this makes it look as though the writer had more depth and
intelligence than the reader. This is, indeed, one of those artifices
referred to above, by means of which mediocre authors unconsciously,
and as it were by instinct, strive to conceal their poverty of thought
and give an appearance of the opposite. Their ingenuity in this
respect is really astounding.

It is manifestly against all sound reason to put one thought obliquely
on top of another, as though both together formed a wooden cross. But
this is what is done where a writer interrupts what he has begun
to say, for the purpose of inserting some quite alien matter; thus
depositing with the reader a meaningless half-sentence, and bidding
him keep it until the completion comes. It is much as though a man
were to treat his guests by handing them an empty plate, in the hope
of something appearing upon it. And commas used for a similar purpose
belong to the same family as notes at the foot of the page and
parenthesis in the middle of the text; nay, all three differ only in
degree. If Demosthenes and Cicero occasionally inserted words by ways
of parenthesis, they would have done better to have refrained.

But this style of writing becomes the height of absurdity when the
parenthesis are not even fitted into the frame of the sentence, but
wedged in so as directly to shatter it. If, for instance, it is an
impertinent thing to interrupt another person when he is speaking, it
is no less impertinent to interrupt oneself. But all bad, careless,
and hasty authors, who scribble with the bread actually before their
eyes, use this style of writing six times on a page, and rejoice in
it. It consists in--it is advisable to give rule and example together,
wherever it is possible--breaking up one phrase in order to glue in
another. Nor is it merely out of laziness that they write thus. They
do it out of stupidity; they think there is a charming _legerete_
about it; that it gives life to what they say. No doubt there are a
few rare cases where such a form of sentence may be pardonable.

Few write in the way in which an architect builds; who, before he
sets to work, sketches out his plan, and thinks it over down to its
smallest details. Nay, most people write only as though they were
playing dominoes; and, as in this game, the pieces are arranged half
by design, half by chance, so it is with the sequence and connection
of their sentences. They only have an idea of what the genera