stinct. If, after working his way through a long and involved
sentence in which the meaning is rough hewn, the writer were to try its
effect upon ear and intellect, he might see its defects and re-shape it
into beauty and clearness. But in general men shirk this labour, partly
because it is irksome, and partly because they have no distinct
conception of the rules which would make the labour light.

The law of Sequence, we have seen, rests upon the two requisites of
Clearness and Harmony. Men with a delicate sense of rhythm will
instinctively distribute their phrases in an order that falls agreeably
on the ear, without monotony, and without an echo of other voices; and
men with a keen sense of logical relation will instinctively arrange
their sentences in an order that best unfolds the meaning. The French
are great masters of the law of Sequence, and, did space Permit, I
could cite many excellent examples. One brief passage from Royer
Collard must suffice:--"Les faits que l'observation laisse epars et
muets la causalite les rassemble, les enchaine, leur prete un langage.
Chaque fait revele celui qui a precede, prophetise celui qui va suivre."

The ear is only a guide to the harmony of a Period, and often tempts us
into the feebleness of expletives or approximative expressions for the
sake of a cadence. Yet, on the other hand, if we disregard the subtle
influences of harmonious arrangement, our thoughts lose much of the
force which would otherwise result from their logical subordination.
The easy evolution of thought in a melodious period, quietly taking up
on its way a variety of incidental details, yet never lingering long
enough over them to divert the attention or to suspend the continuous
crescendo of interest, but by subtle influences of proportion allowing
each clause of the sentence its separate significance, is the product
of a natural gift, as rare as the gift of music, or of poetry. But
until men come to understand that Style is an art, and an amazingly
difficult art, they will continue with careless presumption to tumble
out their sentences as they would lilt stones from a cart, trusting
very much to accident or gravitation for the shapeliness of the result.
I will write a passage which may serve as an example of what I mean,
although the defect is purposely kept within very ordinary limlts--

"To construct a sentence with many loosely and not obviously dependent
clauses, each clause containing an important m