say it all, just at that moment, to...–Times. (implies that others have refrained from browsing)
But in 1798 the Irish rising was crushed in a defeat of the insurgents at Vinegar Hill; and Tippoo's death in the storm of his own capital, Seringapatam, only saved him from witnessing the English conquest of Mysore.–J. R. Green. (implies that that was all it saved him from)
51. Ambiguous Position
In this matter judgement is required. A captious critic might find examples on almost every page of almost any writer; but most of them, though they may strictly be called ambiguous, would be quite justifiable. On the other hand a careless writer can nearly always plead, even for a bad offence, that an attentive reader would take the thing the right way. That is no defence; a rather inattentive and sleepy reader is the true test; if the run of the sentence is such that he at first sight refers whatever phrase is in question to the wrong government, then the ambiguity is to be condemned.
Louis XVIII, dying in 1824, was succeeded, as Charles X, by his brother the Count d'Artois.–Sanderson. (The sleepy reader, assisted by memories of James the First and Sixth, concludes, though not without surprise, which perhaps finally puts him on the right track, that Louis XVIII of France was also Charles X of some other country)
In 1830 Paris overthrew monarchy by divine right.–Morley. (By divine right looks so much more like an adverbial than an adjectival phrase that the sleepy reader takes it with overthrew)
(From review of a book on ambidexterity) Two kinds of emphatic type are used, and both are liberally sprinkled about the pages on some principle which is not at all obvious. The practice may have its merits, like ambidexterity, but it is generally eschewed by good writers who know their business, although they are not ambidextrous.—Times. (The balance of the sentence is extremely bad if the although clause is subordinated to who; and the sleepy reader accordingly does not take it so, but with is eschewed, and so makes nonsense)
It was a temper not only legal, but pedantic in its legality, intolerant from its very sense of a moral order and law of the lawlessness and disorder of a personal tyranny.–J. R. Green.
The library over the porch of the church, which is large and handsome, contains one thousand printed books.–R. Curzon (A large and handsome library, or porch, or church?)
