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diff --git a/28097.txt b/28097.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ddf8aed --- /dev/null +++ b/28097.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13274 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of English: Composition and Literature, by W. +F. (William Franklin) Webster + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: English: Composition and Literature + + +Author: W. F. (William Franklin) Webster + + + +Release Date: February 16, 2009 [eBook #28097] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH: COMPOSITION AND +LITERATURE*** + + +E-text prepared by Carl Hudkins, Fred Robinson, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 28097-h.htm or 28097-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/0/9/28097/28097-h/28097-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/0/9/28097/28097-h.zip) + + + + + +ENGLISH: COMPOSITION AND LITERATURE + +by + +W. F. WEBSTER + +Principal of the East High School +Minneapolis, Minnesota + + + + + + + +Houghton Mifflin Company +Boston: 4 Park Street; New York: 85 Fifth Avenue +Chicago: 378-388 Wabash Avenue + +The Riverside Press Cambridge + +Copyright, 1900 and 1902, by W. F. Webster +All Rights Reserved + + + + +PREFACE + + +In July, 1898, I presented at the National Educational Association, +convened in Washington, a Course of Study in English. At Los Angeles, +in 1899, the Association indorsed the principles[1] of this course, +and made it the basis of the Course in English for High Schools. At +the request of friends, I have prepared this short text-book, +outlining the method of carrying forward the course, and emphasizing +the principles necessary for the intelligent communication of ideas. + +It has not been the purpose to write a rhetoric. The many fine +distinctions and divisions, the rarefied examples of very beautiful +forms of language which a young pupil cannot possibly reproduce, or +even appreciate, have been omitted. To teach the methods of simple, +direct, and accurate expression has been the purpose; and this is all +that can be expected of a high school course in English. + +The teaching of composition differs from the teaching of Latin or +mathematics in this point: whereas pupils can be compelled to solve a +definite number of problems or to read a given number of lines, it is +not possible to compel expression of the full thought. The full +thought is made of an intellectual and an emotional element. Whatever +is intellectual may be compelled by dint of sheer purpose; whatever is +emotional must spring undriven by outside authority, and uncompelled +by inside determination. A boy saws a cord of wood because he has been +commanded by his father; but he cannot laugh or cry because directed +to do so by the same authority. There must be the conditions which +call forth smiles or tears. So there must be the conditions which call +forth the full expression of thought, both what is intellectual and +what is emotional. This means that the subject shall be one of which +the writer knows something, and in which he is interested; that the +demands in the composition shall not be made a discouragement; and +that the teacher shall be competent and enthusiastic, inspiring in +each pupil a desire to say truly and adequately the best he thinks and +feels. + +These conditions cannot be realized while working with dead fragments +of language; but they are realized while constructing living wholes of +composition. It is not two decades ago when the pupil in drawing was +compelled to make straight lines until he made them all crooked. The +pupil in manual training began by drawing intersecting lines on two +sides of a board; then he drove nails into the intersections on one +side, hoping that they would hit the corresponding points on the +other. Now no single line or exercise is an end in itself; it +contributes to some whole. Under the old method the pupil did not care +or try to draw a straight line, or to drive a nail straight; but now, +in order that he may realize the idea that lies in his mind, he does +care and he does try: so lines are drawn better and nails are driven +straighter than before. In all training that combines intellect and +hand, the principle has been recognized that the best work is done +when the pupil's interest has been enlisted by making each exercise +contribute directly to the construction of some whole. Only in the +range of the spiritual are we twenty years behind time, trying to get +the best construction by compulsion. It is quite time that we +recognized that the best work in composition can be done, not while +the pupil is correcting errors in the use of language which he never +dreamed of, nor while he is writing ten similes or ten periodic +sentences, but when both intellect and feeling combine and work +together to produce some whole. Then into the construction of this +whole the pupil will throw all his strength, using the most apt +comparisons, choosing the best words, framing adequate sentences, in +order that the outward form may worthily present to others what to +himself has appeared worthy of expression. + +There are some persons who say that other languages are taught by the +word and sentence method; then why not English? These persons overlook +the fact that we are leaving that method as rapidly as possible, and +adopting a more rational method which at once uses a language to +communicate thought. And they overlook another fact of even greater +importance: the pupil entering the high school is by no means a +beginner in English. He has been using the language ten or twelve +years, and has a fluency of expression in English which he cannot +attain in German throughout a high school and college course. The +conditions under which a pupil begins the study of German in a high +school and the study of English composition are entirely dissimilar; +and a conclusion based upon a fancied analogy is worthless. + +It is preferable, then, to practice the construction of wholes rather +than the making of exercises; and it is best at the beginning to study +the different kinds of wholes, one at a time, rather than all +together. No one would attempt to teach elimination by addition and +subtraction, by comparison and by substitution, all together; nor +would an instructor take up heat, light, and electricity together. In +algebra, or physics, certain great principles underlie the whole +subject; and these appear and reappear as the study progresses through +its allied parts. Still the best results are obtained by taking up +these several divisions of the whole one after another. And in English +the most certain and definite results are secured by studying the +forms of discourse separately, learning the method of applying to each +the great principles that underlie all composition. + +If the forms of discourse are to be studied one after another, which +shall be taken up first? In general, all composition may be separated +into two divisions: composition which deals with things, including +narration and description; and composition which deals with ideas, +comprising exposition and argument. It needs no argument to justify +the position that an essay which deals with things seen and heard is +easier for a beginner to construct than an essay which deals with +ideas invisible and unheard. Whether narration or description should +precede appears yet to be undetermined; for many text-books treat one +first, and perhaps as many the other. I have thought it wiser to begin +with the short story, because it is easier to gain free, spontaneous +expression with narration than with description. To write a whole page +of description is a task for a master, and very few attempt it; but +for the uninitiated amateur about three sentences of description mark +the limit of his ability to see and describe. To get started, to gain +confidence in one's ability to say something, to acquire freedom and +spontaneity of expression,--this is the first step in the practice of +composition. Afterward, when the pupil has discovered that he really +has something to say,--enough indeed to cover three or four pages of +his tablet paper,--then it may be time to begin the study of +description, and to acquire more careful and accurate forms of +expression. Spontaneity should be acquired first,--crude and unformed +it may be, but spontaneity first; and this spontaneity is best gained +while studying narration. + +There can be but little question about the order of the other forms. +Description, still dealing with the concrete, offers an admirable +opportunity for shaping and forming the spontaneous expression gained +in narration. Following description, in order of difficulty, come +exposition and argument. + +I should be quite misunderstood, did any one gather from this that +during the time in which wholes are being studied, no attention is to +be given to parts; that is, to paragraphs, sentences, and words. All +things cannot be learned at once and thoroughly; there must be some +order of succession. In the beginning the primary object to be aimed +at is the construction of wholes; yet during their construction, parts +can also be incidentally studied. During this time many errors which +annoy and exasperate must be passed over with but a word, in order +that the weight of the criticism may be concentrated on the point then +under consideration. As a pupil advances, he is more and more +competent to appreciate and to form good paragraphs and well-turned +sentences, and to single out from the multitude of verbal signs the +word that exactly presents his thought. The appreciation and the use +of the stronger as well as the finer and more delicate forms of +language come only with much reading and writing; and to demand +everything at the very beginning is little less than sheer madness. + +Moreover there never comes a time when the construction of a +paragraph, the shaping of a phrase, or the choice of a word becomes an +end in itself. Paragraphs, sentences, and words are well chosen when +they serve best the whole composition. He who becomes enamored of one +form of paragraph, who always uses periodic sentences, who chooses +only common words, has not yet recognized that the beauty of a phrase +or a word is determined by its fitness, and that it is most beautiful +because it exactly suits the place it fills. The graceful sweep of a +line by Praxiteles or the glorious radiancy of a color by Angelico is +most beautiful in the place it took from the master's hand. So +Lowell's wealth of figurative language and Stevenson's unerring choice +of delicate words are most beautiful, not when torn from their +original setting to serve as examples in rhetorics, but when +fulfilling their part in a well-planned whole. And it is only as the +beauties of literature are born of the thought that they ever succeed. +No one can say to himself, "I will now make a good simile," and +straightway fulfill his promise. If, however, the thought of a writer +takes fire, and instead of the cold, unimpassioned phraseology of the +logician, glowing images crowd up, and phrases tipped with fire, then +figurative language best suits the thought,--indeed, it is the +thought. But imagery upon compulsion,--never. So that at no time +should one attempt to mould fine phrases for the sake of the phrases +themselves, but he should spare no pains with them when they spring +from the whole, when they harmonize with the whole, and when they give +to the whole added beauty and strength. + +It is quite unnecessary at this day to urge the study of literature. +It is in the course of study for every secondary school. Yet a word +may be said of the value of this study to the practice of composition. +There are two classes of artists: geniuses and men of talent. Of +geniuses in literature, one can count the names on his fingers; most +authors are simply men of talent. Talent learns to do by doing, and by +observing how others have done. When Brunelleschi left Rome for +Florence, he had closely observed and had drawn every arch of the +stupendous architecture in that ancient city; and so he was adjudged +by his fellow citizens to be the only man competent to lift the dome +of their Duomo. His observation discovered the secret of Rome's +architectural grandeur; and the slow accumulation of such secrets +marks the development of every art and science. Milton had his method +of writing prose, Macaulay his, and Arnold his,--all different and all +excellent. And just as the architect stands before the cathedrals of +Cologne, Milan, and Salisbury to learn the secret of each; as the +painter searches out the secret of Raphael, Murillo, and Rembrandt; so +the author analyzes the masterpieces of literature to discover the +secret of Irving, of Eliot, and of Burke. Not that an author is to be +a servile imitator of any man's manner; but that, having knowledge of +all the secrets of composition, he shall so be enabled to set forth +for others his own thought in all the beauty and perfection in which +he himself conceives it. + +One thing further. A landscape painter would not make a primary study +of Angelo's anatomical drawings; a composer of lyric forms of music +would not study Sousa's marches; nor would a person writing a story +look for much assistance in the arguments of Burke. The most direct +benefit is derived from studying the very thing one wishes to know +about, not from studying something else. That the literature may give +the greatest possible assistance to the composition, the course has +been so arranged that narration shall be taught by Hawthorne and +Irving, description by Ruskin and Stevenson, exposition by Macaulay +and Newman, and argument by Webster and Burke. Literature, arranged in +this manner, is not only a stimulus to renewed effort, by showing what +others have done; it is also the most skillful instructor in the art +of composition, by showing how others have done. + +It would be quite impossible for any one at the present time to write +a text-book in English that would not repeat what has already been +said by many others. Nor have I tried to. My purpose has been rather +to select from the whole literature of the subject just those +principles which every author of a book on composition or rhetoric has +thought essential, and to omit minor matters and all those about which +there is a difference of opinion. This limits the contents to topics +already familiar to every teacher. It also makes it necessary to +repeat what has been written before many times. Certain books, +however, have treated special divisions of the whole subject in a +thorough and exhaustive manner. There is nothing new to say of Unity, +Mass, and Coherence; Mr. Wendell said all concerning these in his book +entitled "English Composition." So in paragraph development, Scott and +Denney hold the field. Other books which I have frequently used in the +classroom are "Talks on Writing English," by Arlo Bates, and Genung's +"Practical Rhetoric." These books I have found very helpful in +teaching, and I have drawn upon them often while writing this +text-book. + +If the field has been covered, then why write a book at all? The +answer is that the principles which are here treated have not been put +into one book. They may be found in several. These essentials I have +repeated many times with the hope that they will be fixed by this +frequent repetition. The purpose has been to focus the attention upon +these, to apply them in the construction of the different forms of +discourse, paragraphs, and sentences, and to repeat them until it is +impossible for a student to forget them. If the book fulfils this +purpose, it was worth writing. + +Acknowledgments are due to Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons for their +kind permission to use the selections from the writings of Robert +Louis Stevenson contained in this book; also, to Messrs. D. Appleton & +Co., The Century Co., and Doubleday & McClure Co. for selections from +the writings of Rudyard Kipling. + + W. F. WEBSTER. + +MINNEAPOLIS, 1900. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + Chapter I.--Forms of Discourse + + Composition 1 + English Composition 1 + Composition, Written and Oral 2 + Conventions of Composition 2 + Five Forms of Discourse 3 + Definitions 4 + Difficulty in distinguishing 4 + Purpose of the Author 6 + + Chapter II.--Choice of Subject + + Form and Material 8 + Author's Individuality 8 + Knowledge of Subject 9 + Common Subjects 10 + Interest 11 + The Familiar 11 + Human Life 12 + The Strange 12 + + Chapter III.--Narration + + Material of Narration 13 + In Action 14 + The Commonest Form of Discourse 14 + Language as a Means of Expression 15 + Without Plot 15 + Plot 16 + Unity, Mass, and Coherence 20 + Main Incident 20 + Its Importance 21 + Unity 21 + Introductions and Conclusions 23 + Tedious Enumerations 23 + What to include 24 + Consistency 25 + An Actor as the Story-teller 26 + The Omniscience of an Author 27 + The Climax 28 + Who? Where? When? Why? 29 + In what Order? 29 + An Outline 32 + Movement 32 + Rapidity 32 + Slowness 33 + Description and Narration 34 + Characters few, Time short 35 + Simple Plot 36 + Suggestive Questions and Exercises 38 + + Chapter IV.--Description + + Difficulties of Language for making Pictures 49 + Painting and Sculpture 50 + Advantages of Language 50 + Enumeration and Suggestion 52 + Enumerative Description 54 + Suggestive Description 55 + Value of Observation 55 + The Point of View 56 + Moving Point of View 58 + The Point of View should be stated 58 + Mental Point of View 59 + Length of Descriptions 63 + Arrangement of Details in Description 64 + The End of a Description 70 + Proportion 73 + Arrangement must be natural 74 + Use Familiar Images 75 + Simile, Metaphor, Personification 77 + Choice of Words. Adjectives and Nouns 78 + Use of Verbs 79 + Suggestive Questions and Exercises 81 + + Chapter V.--Exposition + + General Terms difficult 89 + Definition 91 + Exposition and Description distinguished 91 + Logical Definition 91 + Genus and Differentia 92 + Requisites of a Good Definition 93 + How do Men explain? First, by Repetition 94 + Second, by telling the obverse 95 + Third, by Details 96 + Fourth, by Illustrations 97 + Fifth, by Comparisons 98 + The Subject 99 + The Subject should allow Concrete Treatment 100 + The Theme 100 + The Title 102 + Selection of Material 102 + Scale of Treatment 104 + Arrangement 108 + Use Cards for Subdivisions 108 + An Outline 109 + Mass the End 110 + The Beginning 112 + Proportion in Treatment 114 + Emphasis of Emotion 115 + Phrases indicating Emphasis 116 + Coherence 116 + Transition Phrases 118 + Summary and Transition 119 + Suggestive Questions and Exercises 121 + + Chapter VI.--Argument + + Induction and Deduction 129 + Syllogism Premises 129 + Terms 129 + Enthymeme 130 + Definition of Terms 130 + Undistributed Middle 131 + False Premises 131 + Method of Induction 132 + Arguments from Cause 133 + Arguments from Sign 134 + Sequence and Cause 135 + Arguments from Example 137 + Selection of Material 138 + Plan called The Brief 138 + Climax 139 + Inductive precedes Deductive 140 + Cause precedes Sign 140 + Example follows Sign 141 + Refutation 141 + Analysis of Burke's Oration 142 + Suggestive Questions 148 + + Chapter VII.--Paragraphs + + Definition 151 + Long and Short Paragraphs 151 + Topic Sentence 157 + No Topic Sentence 161 + The Plan 162 + Kinds of Paragraphs 163 + Details 163 + Comparisons 165 + Repetition 167 + Obverse 169 + Examples 171 + Combines Two or More Forms 173 + Unity 173 + Need of Outline 174 + Mass 174 + What begins and what ends a Paragraph? 175 + Length of opening and closing Sentences 178 + Proportion 179 + Coherence and Clearness 180 + Two Arrangements of Sentences in a Paragraph 181 + Definite References 187 + Use of Pronouns 188 + Of Conjunctions 190 + Parallel Constructions 192 + Summary 195 + Suggestive Questions 196 + + Chapter VIII.--Sentences + + Definition and Classification. Simple Sentences 200 + Compound Sentences 200 + Short Sentences 204 + Long Sentences 204 + Unity 205 + Mass 207 + End of a Sentence 208 + Effect of Anti-climax 210 + Use of Climax 211 + Loose and Periodic 212 + The Period 212 + Periodic and Loose combined 214 + Which shall be used? 215 + Emphasis by Change of Order 217 + Subdue Unimportant Elements 219 + The Dynamic Point of a Sentence 221 + Good Use 223 + Clearness gained by Coherence 224 + Parallel Construction 226 + Balanced Sentences 227 + Use of Connectives 228 + Suggestive Questions 231 + + Chapter IX.--Words + + Need of a Large Vocabulary 236 + Dictionary 237 + Study of Literature 238 + Vulgarisms are not reputable 240 + Slang is not reputable 240 + Words must be National. Provincialisms 242 + Technical and Bookish Words 242 + Foreign Words 243 + Words in Present Use 244 + Words in their Present Meaning 245 + Words of Latin and Saxon Origin 245 + General and Specific 248 + Use Words that suggest most 249 + Synecdoche, Metonymy 250 + Care in Choice of Specific Words 250 + Avoid Hackneyed Phrases 253 + "Fine Writing" 253 + In Prose avoid Poetical Words 254 + + Chapter X.--Figures of Speech + + Figurative Language 257 + Figures based upon Likeness 259 + Metaphor 260 + Epithet 260 + Personification 260 + Apostrophe 261 + Allegory 261 + Simile 261 + Figures based upon Sentence Structure 262 + Inversion 262 + Exclamation 262 + Interrogation 262 + Climax 262 + Irony 262 + Metonymy 263 + Synecdoche 263 + Allusion 263 + Hyperbole 263 + Exercises in Figures 264 + + Chapter XI.--Verse Forms + + Singing Verse 269 + Poetic Feet 272 + Kinds of Metre 273 + Stanzas 275 + Scansion 276 + Variations in Metres 276 + First and Last Foot 281 + Kinds of Poetry 284 + Exercises in Metres 286 + + APPENDIX + + A. Suggestions to Teachers 293 + B. The Form of a Composition 296 + C. Marks for Correction of Compositions 300 + D. Punctuation 301 + E. Supplementary List of Literature 309 + + + + +A COURSE OF STUDY + +IN LITERATURE AND COMPOSITION + + +The Course of Study which follows is presented, not because it is +better than many others which might be made. For the purposes of this +book it was necessary that some course be adopted as the basis of the +text. The principles which guided in arranging this course I believe +are sound; but the preferences of teachers and the peculiarities of +environment will often make it wise to use other selections from +literature. Of this a large "supplementary list" is given at the back +of the book. + +It is now a generally accepted truth that the study of English should +continue through the four years of a high-school course. The division +of time that seems best is to take Narration and Description in the +first year. In connection with Description, Figures of Speech should +be studied. The next year, Exposition and Paragraphs form the major +part of the work. This may be pleasantly broken by a study of Poetry, +following the outline in the chapter on Verse Forms. In the third +year, while the work in literature is mainly the Novel and the Drama, +Sentences and Words should be studied in composition, with a review of +the chapters on Narration and Description. Towards the close of the +year, Exposition should be reviewed and the study of Argument taken +up. The fourth year should be devoted to the study of such College +Requirements as have not been taken in the course, and to the study of +the History of English Literature as given in some good text book. + +In some instances, it will be found impossible to give so much time to +the study of English. In such cases, the amount of literature to be +studied should be decreased, and the work in the text book should be +more rapidly done. The sequence of the parts should remain the same, +but the time should be modified to suit the needs of any special +environment. + + + NARRATION. + + Composition. + + _To give Spontaneity._ + + I. External Form of Composition (p. 296). + II. Marks for the Correction of Compositions (p. 300). +III. Simple Rules for Punctuation (pp. 301-309). + IV. Forms of Discourse. Definitions (pp. 1-7). + V. Choice of Subject (pp. 8-12). + VI. Study of Narration (pp. 13-48). + a. Definition and General Discussion. + b. Narration without Plot. + Interest the Essential Feature. + c. Narration with Plot. + 1. Selection of Main Incident of first Importance. + It gives to the story + Unity, + ridding it of + Long Introductions and Conclusions, + Tedious Enumerations, and + Irrelevant Details. + 2. Arrangement of Material. + Close of Story contains Main Incident. + Opening of Story contains Characters, Place, and Time. + Incidents generally follow in Order of Time. + 3. Movement. + 4. Use of Description in Narration. + 5. Some General Considerations. + + Literature. + +The Great Stone Face, The Gentle Boy, The Gray Champion, Roger + Malvin's Burial, and other Stories. _Hawthorne._ + +Tales of a Wayside Inn. _Longfellow._ + +The Gold Bug. _Poe._ + +Marmion, or The Lady of the Lake. _Scott._ + +A Christmas Carol, or The Cricket on the Hearth. _Dickens._ + +The Vision of Sir Launfal, and other Narrative Poems. _Lowell._ + +An Incident of the French Camp, Herve Riel, The Pied Piper, How they + brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix. _Browning._ + + Meaning of the Author, calling for + A Study of Words. + Outline of Story. + Turning Points in the Story. + Central Idea, or Purpose of the Story. + + Method of the Author. + Is there a Main Incident? + Do all other Incidents converge to it? + Is the Order a Sequence of Time alone? + Is the Interest centred in Characters or Plot? + + Style of the Author. + Compare the Works of the Author. + + + DESCRIPTION. + + Composition. + + _To secure Accuracy of Expression_ (pp. 49-88). + + I. Definition and General Discussion. + Difficulties in Language as a Means of Picturing. + Value of Observation. + II. Structure of Whole. + a. To secure Unity. + Select a Point of View. + b. To secure Coherence. + Arrange Details in Natural Order. + c. To secure Emphasis. + Arrange and proportion Treatment to effect your Purpose. +III. Paragraph Structure. + Definition. + Length of Paragraphs. + Development of Paragraphs. + IV. Words. + Specific rather than General. + Adjectives, Nouns, and Verbs. + V. Figures Of Speech (pp. 257-268). + Based on Likeness. + Based on Sentence Structure. + Miscellaneous Figures. + + Literature. + +The Old Manse, The Old Apple Dealer. _Hawthorne._ + +An Indian-Summer Reverie, The Dandelion, The Birch, The Oak, and other + Descriptive Poems. _Lowell._ + +The Fall of the House of Usher. _Poe._ + +The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Selections from the Sketch Book. _Irving._ + +Selections from Childe Harold. _Byron._ + +The Deserted Village. _Goldsmith._ + +Julius Caesar. _Shakespeare._ + +Poems selected from Palgrave's Golden Treasury. + + Meaning of the Author (as under Narration). + + Method of the Author. + Does the Author keep his Point of View? + Are the Details arranged in a Natural Order? + Has any Detail a Supreme Importance? + Are the Details treated in Proper Proportion? + Has the Whole a Unity of Effect? Do you see the Picture + distinctly? + For what Purpose has the Author used Description? + Does the Author employ Figures? + + Style of the Author. + + + EXPOSITION, PARAGRAPHS, VERSE FORMS. + + Composition. + + _To encourage Logical Thinking and Adequate Expression_ + (pp. 89-127). + + _Exposition._ + + I. Definition and General Considerations. + II. Exposition of Terms. Definition. +III. Exposition of Propositions. + a. Clear Statement of the Proposition in a "Key Sentence." + This will limit + b. The Discussion. + 1. What shall be included? + 2. What shall be excluded? + 3. How shall Important Matters be emphasized? + Mass and Proportion. + Expansion and Condensation. + To effect these ends use an + 4. Outline. + + _Paragraphs_ (pp. 151-199). + + I. Definition. + II. Length of Paragraphs. +III. Development of Paragraphs. + IV. Principles of Structure. + Unity. + Mass. + Coherence. + + _Verse Forms_ (pp. 269-291). + +Poetry Defined. +Kinds of Feet. +Number of Feet in a Verse. +Substitutions and Rests. +Kinds of Poetry. + + Literature. + +Essay on Milton. _Macaulay._ + +Essay on Addison. _Macaulay._ + +Commemoration Ode. _Lowell._ + +The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. _Coleridge._ + +Intimations of Immortality, and other Poems. _Wordsworth._ + +Selections from Palgrave's Golden Treasury. + +The Bunker Hill Oration, or Adams and Jefferson. _Webster._ + +Sesame and Lilies. _Ruskin._ + + Meaning of the Author. + Outline showing the Main Thesis with the Dependence + of Subordinate Propositions. + + Method of the Author. + Does he hold to his Point and so gain Unity + Does he arrange his Material so as to secure Emphasis? + Does one Paragraph grow out of another? + Does each Paragraph treat a Single Topic? + Are the Sentences dovetailed together? + Does the Author use Figures? + Are the Figures Effective? + Are his Words General or Specific? + + Style of the Author. + Is it Clear? + Has it Force? + Is the Diction Elegant? + How has he gained these Ends? + + + SENTENCES, WORDS, ARGUMENT. + + Composition. + + _Sentences_ (pp. 200-234). + + I. Definition and Classification. + II. Principles of Structure. + a. Unity. + b. Mass. + 1. Prominent Positions in a Sentence. + 2. Periodic Sentences. + 3. Loose Sentences. + c. Coherence. + 1. Parallel Constructions. + 2. Connectives. + + _Words_ (pp. 235-256). + +Reputable Words. +Latin or Saxon Words. +General or Specific. +Figures of Speech. +The One Rule for the Use of Words. + + _Narration and Description Reviewed._ + + _Exposition Reviewed._ + + Literature. + + _Argument_ (pp. 128-150). + + I. Kinds of Argument. + II. Order of Arguments. +III. Refutation. + +Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. _Addison._ + +The Vicar of Wakefield. _Goldsmith._ + +Silas Marner. _Eliot._ + +Ivanhoe. _Scott._ + +Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer Night's Dream. + _Shakespeare._ + +Conciliation with the Colonies. _Burke._ + + + COMPOSITION. + +In the last year of the course, the compositions should be such as +will test the maturer powers of the pupil. They should be written +under the careful supervision of the teacher. They should be of all +forms of discourse, and the subjects should be drawn from the subjects +of study in the high school, especially from the literature. + + + LITERATURE. + + _Difficult Selections._ + +L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas. _Milton._ + +Paradise Lost. Two Books. _Milton._ + +Essay on Burns. _Carlyle._ + +In Memoriam, The Princess, and other Poems. _Tennyson._ + +Selections. _Browning._ + +Selections. _Emerson._ + +A History of English Literature + + + * * * * * + + + ENGLISH: + + COMPOSITION AND LITERATURE + + + + + CHAPTER I + + FORMS OF DISCOURSE + + + Composition. + +Composition, from the Latin words _con,_ meaning together, and +_ponere,_ meaning to place, signifies a placing together, a grouping +or arrangement of objects or of ideas. This arrangement is generally +made so that it will produce a desired result. Speaking accurately, +the putting together is the composition. Much of the desired result is +gained by care in the selection of materials. Placing together a +well-worn book, a lamp, and a pair of heavy bowed spectacles makes a +suggestive picture. The selection and grouping of these objects is +spoken of as the composition of the picture. So in music, an author +composes, when he groups certain musical tones and phrases so that +they produce a desired effect. In literature, too, composition is, +strictly speaking, the selection and arrangement of materials, whether +the incidents of a story or the details of a description, to fulfill a +definite purpose. + + English Composition. + +In practice, however, English composition has come to include more +than the selection and arrangement of the materials,--incidents, +objects, or ideas, as the case may be; the term has been extended to +include the means by which the speaker or writer seeks to convey this +impression to other persons. As a painter must understand drawing, the +value of lights and shades, and the mixing of colors before he can +successfully reproduce for others the idea he has to express, so the +artist in literature needs a knowledge of elementary grammar and of +the simpler usages of language in order clearly to represent to others +the idea which lies in his own mind. As commonly understood, then, +_English composition_ may be defined as _the art of selecting, +arranging, and communicating ideas by means of the English language._ + + Composition, Written and Oral. + +The term "English composition" is now generally understood to mean +written composition, and not oral composition. At first thought they +seem to be the same thing. So far as the selection and arrangement of +matter is concerned, they are the same. Moreover, both use words, and +both employ sentences; but here the likeness ends. If sentences should +be put upon paper exactly as they were spoken, in most instances they +would not convey to a reader the same thought they conveyed to a +listener. It is much more exacting to express the truth one wishes to +convey, by silent, featureless symbols than by that wonderful organ of +communication, the human voice. Now, if to the human voice be added +eyes, features, gestures, and pose, we easily understand the great +advantage a speaker has over a writer. + + Conventions of Composition. + +Moreover, there are imposed upon a writer certain established rules +which he must follow. He must spell words correctly, and he must use +correctly marks of punctuation. These things need not annoy a speaker; +yet they are conditions which must be obeyed by a writer. A man who +eats with a knife may succeed in getting his food to his mouth, yet +certain conventions exclude such a person from polite society. So in +composition, it is possible for a person to make himself understood, +though he write "alright" instead of "all right," and never use a +semicolon; still, such a person could hardly be considered a highly +cultured writer. To express one's thoughts correctly and with +refinement requires absolute obedience to the common conventions of +good literature. + +The study of composition includes, first, the careful selection of +materials and their effective arrangement; and second, a knowledge of +the established conventions of literature: of spelling; of the common +uses of the marks of punctuation,--period, question mark, exclamation +point, colon, semicolon, comma; of the common idioms of our language; +and of the elements of its grammar. From the beginning of the high +school course, the essay, the paragraph, the sentence, the word, are +to be studied with special attention to the effective use of each in +adequately communicating ideas. + + Five Forms of Discourse. + +All written composition may be arranged in two classes, or groups. The +first group will include all composition that deals with actual +happenings and real things; the second, all that deals with abstract +thoughts and spiritual ideas. The first will include narration and +description; the second, exposition, argument, and persuasion. All +literature, then, may be separated into five classes,--narration, +description, exposition, argument, and persuasion. + +Narration tells what things do; description tells how things look. +Narration deals with occurrences; description deals with appearances. +Exposition defines a term, or explains a proposition; argument proves +the truth or falsity of a proposition; persuasion urges to action upon +a proposition. Exposition explains; argument convinces; persuasion +arouses. These are the broad lines of distinction which separate the +five forms of discourse. + + Definitions. + +_Narration is that form of discourse which recounts events in a +sequence._ It includes stories, novels, romances, biographies, some +books of travel, and some histories. + +_Description is that form of discourse which aims to present a +picture._ It seldom occurs alone, but it is usually found in +combination with the other forms of discourse. + +_Exposition is that form of discourse which seeks to explain a term or +a proposition._ Text-books, books of information, theses, most +histories, many magazine articles, and newspaper leaders are of this +class of literature. + +_Argument is that form of discourse which has for its object the proof +of the truth or falsity of a proposition._ + +_Persuasion is that form of discourse the purpose of which is to +influence the will._ + + Difficulty in distinguishing. + +Though these definitions seem to set apart the great classes of +literature, and to insure against any danger of confusion, it is not +always easy to place individual pieces of literature in one of these +divisions. Whittier's "Barbara Frietchie" and Stevenson's "Treasure +Island" are narrative beyond any question; but what about "Snow-Bound" +and "Travels with a Donkey" by the same authors? Are they narration or +description? In them the narrative and descriptive portions are so +nearly equal that one hesitates to set them down to either class; the +reader is constantly called from beautiful pictures to delightful +stories. The narrative can easily be separated from the descriptive +portions; but when this has been done, has it been decided whether the +whole piece is narration or description? + +When a person takes up the other forms of discourse, the difficulty +becomes still greater. Description and narration are frequently used +in exposition. If a boy should be asked to explain the working of a +steam engine, he would, in all likelihood, begin with a description of +an engine. If his purpose was to explain how an engine works, and was +not to tell how an engine looks, the whole composition would be +exposition. So, too, it is often the easiest way to explain what one +means by telling a story. The expression of such thoughts would be +exposition, although it might contain a number of stories and +descriptions. + +Narration and description may be found in a piece of exposition; and +all three may be employed in argument. If a person should wish to +prove the dangers of intemperance, he might enforce his proof by a +story, or by a description of the condition of the nervous system +after a drunken revel. And one does not need to do more than explain +the results of intemperance to a sensible man to prove to him that he +should avoid all excesses. The explanation alone is argument enough +for such a person. Still, is such an explanation exposition or +argument? If the man cared nothing about convincing another that there +are dangers in intemperance, did not wish to prove that the end of +intemperance is death and dishonor, the composition is as much +exposition as the explanation of a steam engine. If, on the other +hand, he explained these results in order to convince another that he +should avoid intemperance, then the piece is argument. + +Persuasion introduces a new element into composition; for, while +exposition and argument are directed to a man's reason, persuasion is +addressed to the emotions and the will. Its purpose is to arouse to +action. One can readily imagine that a simple explanation of the evils +of intemperance might be quite enough to convince a man that its +dangers are truly great,--so great that he would determine to fight +these evils with all his strength. In such a case explanation alone +has convinced him; and it has aroused him to do something. Is the +piece exposition, or argument, or persuasion? Here, as before, the +answer is found in the purpose of the author. If he intended only to +explain, the piece is exposition; if to convince, it is argument; if +to arouse to action, it belongs to the literature of persuasion. + +It must now be plain that few pieces of literature are purely one form +of discourse. The forms are mingled in most of our literature. Hardly +a story can be found that does not contain some descriptions; and a +description of any considerable length is sure to contain some +narrative portions. So, too, narration and description are often found +in exposition, argument, and persuasion; and these last three forms +are frequently combined. + + Purpose of the Author. + +It must also be evident that the whole piece of literature will best +be classified by discovering the purpose of the author. If his purpose +is simply to tell a good story, his work is narration; if the purpose +is merely to place a picture before the reader's mind, it is +description; if to explain conditions and nothing more, it is +exposition; if to prove to the reason the truth or falsity of a +proposition, it is argument; while, if the writer addresses himself to +the emotions and the will, no matter whether he tells anecdotes or +paints lurid pictures, explains conditions or convinces of the dangers +of the present course,--if he does all these to urge the reader to do +something, the composition belongs to the literature of persuasion. +The five forms of discourse are most easily distinguished by +discovering the purpose of the author. + +One addition should be made. Few novels are written in which there is +nothing more than a story. Nearly all contain some teaching; and it is +a safe conclusion that the authors have taught "on purpose." In "Baa, +Baa, Black Sheep," Kipling has shown the imperative necessity of a +"real, live, lovely mamma;" in "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," Irving +has placed before us a charming picture of rural life in a dreamy +Dutch village on the Hudson; and in his "Christmas Carol," Dickens +shows plainly that happiness is not bought and sold even in London, +and that the only happy man is he who shares with another's need. Yet +all of these, and the hundreds of their kind, whatever the purpose of +the authors when writing them, belong to the "story" or "novel" class. +The purpose _in telling_ the story is secondary to the purpose _to +tell_ a story. They are to be classified as narration. + +English composition, then, is a study of the selection and arrangement +of ideas, and of the methods of using the English language to +communicate them. All composition is divided into five great classes. +These classes have broad lines of distinction, which are most easily +applied by determining the purpose of the author. + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER II + + CHOICE OF SUBJECT + + + Form and Material. + +From the considerations in the preceding chapter may be derived +several principles regarding the choice of subject. If the composition +is to be narrative, it should be upon a subject that readily lends +itself to narrative form. One can tell a story about "A Day's Hunt" or +"What We did Hallowe'en;" but it would try one's powers of imagination +to write a story of "A Tree" or "A Chair." The latter subjects do not +lend themselves to narration, but they may be described. Josiah P. +Cooke has written a brilliant exposition of "Fire" in "The New +Chemistry;" yet a young person would be foolish to take "Fire" as a +subject for exposition, though he might easily write a good +description of "How the Fire looked from My Window," or narrate "How a +Fireman rescued My Sister." So in all work in composition, _select a +subject that readily lends itself to the form of discourse demanded; +or, conversely, select the form of discourse suitable for presenting +most effectively your material._ + + Author's Individuality. + +If an author is writing for other purposes than for conscious +practice, he should choose the form of discourse in which he can best +work, and to which he can best shape his material. Some men tell +stories well; others are debaters; while yet others are wonderfully +gifted with eloquence. Emerson understood life thoroughly. He knew +man's feelings, his motives, his hopes, his strength, his weakness; +yet one cannot imagine Emerson shaping this material into a novel. But +just a little way down the road lived a wizard who could transmute the +commonest events of this workaday world to the most beautiful shapes; +no one wishes that Hawthorne had written essays. The second principle +guiding in the choice of a subject is this: _Select a subject which is +suited to your peculiar ability as an author._ + + Knowledge of Subject. + +The form, then, should suit the matter; and it should be the form in +which the author can work. There is a third principle that should +guide in the choice of a subject. _It should be a subject of which the +author knows something._ Pupils often exclaim, "What can I write +about!" as if they were expected to find something new to write. An +exercise in composition has not for its object the proclaiming of any +new and unheard-of thing; it is an exercise in the expression of +things already known. Even when the subject is known, the treatment +offers difficulties enough. It is not true that what is thoroughly +understood is easily explained. Many excellent scholars have written +very poor text-books because they had not learned the art of +expression. A necessary antecedent of all good composition is a full +and accurate knowledge of the subject; and even when one knows all +about it, the clear expression of the thought will be difficult +enough. + +To demand accurate knowledge of the subject before an author begins +work upon it narrows the field from which themes may be drawn. +Burroughs is an authority on all the tenants of our groves; +"Wake-Robin," "Pepacton," and his other books all show a master's +certain hand. So Stedman is an authority in matters relating to +literature. But Burroughs and Stedman alike would find difficulty in +writing an essay on "Electricity in the Treatment of Nervous +Diseases." They do not know about it. A boy in school probably knows +something of fishing; of this he can write. A girl can tell of "The +Last Parlor Concert." Both could write very entertainingly of their +"First Algebra Recitation;" neither could write a convincing essay on +"The Advantages of Free Trade." + + Common Subjects. + +This will seem to limit the list of subjects to the commonplace. The +fact is that in a composition exercise the purpose is not to startle +the world with some new thing; it is to learn the art of expression. +And here in the region of common things, things thoroughly understood, +every bit of effort can be given to the manner of expression. The +truth is, it does not require much art to make a book containing new +and interesting material popular; the matter in the book carries it in +spite of poor composition. Popular it may be, but popularity is not +immortality. Columns of poorly written articles upon "Dewey" and "The +Philippines" have been eagerly read by thousands of Americans; it +would require a literary artist of great power to write a one-column +article on "Pigs" so that it would be eagerly read by thousands. Real +art in composition is much more manifest when an author takes a common +subject and treats it in such a way that it glows with new life. +Richard Le Gallienne has written about a drove of pigs so beautifully +that one forgets all the traditions about these common animals.[2] +Choose common subjects, then,--subjects that allow every particle of +your strength to go into the manner of saying what you already know. + +The requirement that the subject shall be common does not mean that +the subject shall be trivial. "Sliding to First," "How Billy won the +Game," with all of this class of subjects, at once put the writer into +a trifling, careless attitude toward his work. The subjects themselves +seem to call forth a cheap, slangy vocabulary and the vulgar phrases +of sporting life. An equally common subject could be selected which +would call forth serious, earnest effort. If a boy knew nothing except +about ball games, it would be advisable for him to write upon this +subject. Such a condition is hardly possible in a high school. _Choose +common subjects, but subjects that call for earnest thinking and +dignified expression._ + + Interest. + +Interest is another consideration in the choice of a subject. It +applies equally to writer and reader. _Choose subjects that are +interesting._ Not only must an author know about the subject; he must +be interested in it. A pupil may have accurate knowledge of the uses +of a semicolon; but he would not be likely to succeed in a paragraph +about semicolons, largely because he is not much interested in +semicolons. This matter of interest is so important that it is well to +know what things all persons, authors and readers alike, are +interested in. What, then, is generally interesting? + + The Familiar. + +First, _the familiar is interesting._ When reading a newspaper each +one instinctively turns to the local column, or glances down the +general news columns to see if there is anything from his home town. +To a former resident, Jim Benson's fence in Annandale is more +interesting than the bronze doors of the Congressional Library in +Washington. For the same reason a physician lights upon "a new cure +for consumption," a lawyer devours Supreme Court decisions, while the +dealer in silks is absorbed in the process of making silk without the +aid of the silkworm. Each is interested in that which to him is most +familiar. + + Human Life. + +Second, _human life in all its phases is interesting._ The account of +a fire or of a railroad accident takes on a new interest when, in +addition to the loss of property, there has been a loss of life. War +is horribly fascinating, not so much because there is a wanton +destruction of property, as because it involves the slaughter of men. +Stories about trees and animals are usually failures, unless handled +by artists who breathe into them the life of man. Andersen's +"Tannenbaum" and Kipling's "Jungle Books" are intensely interesting +because in them trees and animals feel and act just as men do. + + The Strange. + +Third, _the romantic, the unique, and the impossible are interesting._ +A new discovery, a new invention, a people of which little is +known,--anything new is interesting. The stories of Rider Haggard and +Jules Verne have been popular because they deal with things which eye +hath not seen. This peculiar trait of man allows him to relish a good +fish story, or the latest news from the sea-serpent. Just for the same +reason, children love to hear of Little Red Riding Hood and +Cinderella. Children and their parents are equally interested in those +things which are entirely outside of their own experience. + +These, then, are the general conditions which govern the choice of a +subject. It shall easily lend itself to the form of discourse chosen; +it shall be suited to the peculiar ability of the author; it shall be +thoroughly understood by the author,--common, but not trivial; it +shall be interesting to both reader and author. + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER III + + NARRATION + + + Material of Narration. + +Narration has been defined as the form of discourse which recounts +events in a sequence. It includes not only letters, journals, memoirs, +biographies, and many histories, but, in addition, that great body of +literature which people generally include in the comprehensive term of +"stories." + +If this body of literature be examined, it will be found that it deals +with things as opposed to ideas; incidents as opposed to propositions. +Sometimes, it is true, the author of a story is in reality dealing +with ideas. In the fable about "The Hare and the Tortoise," the +tortoise stands for the idea of slow, steady plodding; while the hare +is the representative of quick wits which depend on their ability to +show a brilliant burst of speed when called upon. The fable teaches +better than an essay can that the dullness which perseveres will +arrive at success sooner than brilliancy of mind which wastes its time +in doing nothing to the purpose. Andersen's "Ugly Duckling," Ruskin's +"King of the Golden River," and Lowell's "Sir Launfal" stand for deep +spiritual ideas, which we understand better for this method of +presentation. In an allegory like "Pilgrim's Progress," the passions +and emotions, the sins and weaknesses of men are treated as if they +were real persons. Ideas are represented by living, breathing persons; +and we may say that all such narratives deal, not with ideas, but, for +want of a better word, with things. + + In Action. + +Not only does narration deal with things, but with things doing +something. Things inactive might be written of, but this would be +description. It is necessary in narration that the things be in an +active mood; that something be doing. "John struck James," then, is a +narrative sentence; it tells that John has been doing something. +Still, this one sentence would not ordinarily be accepted as +narration. For narration there must be a series, a sequence of +individual actions. _Recounting events in a sequence is narration._ + + The Commonest Form of Discourse. + +Narration is the most popular form of discourse. Between one fourth +and one third of all books published are stories; and more than one +half of the books issued by public libraries belong to the narrative +class. Such a computation does not include the large number of stories +read in our papers and magazines. In addition to being the most +popular form of discourse, it is the most natural. It is the first +form of connected discourse of the child; it is the form employed by +the uncultured in giving his impressions; it is the form most used in +conversation. Moreover, narration is the first form found in great +literatures: the Iliad and the Odyssey, the songs of the troubadours +in France, and the minnesingers in Germany, the chronicles and ballads +of England,--all are narrative. + + Language as a Means of Expression. + +Narration is especially suited to the conditions imposed by language. +Men do not think in single words, but in groups of words,--phrases, +clauses, and sentences. In hearing, too, men do not consider the +individual words; the mind waits until a group of words, a phrase, or +a simple sentence perhaps,--which expresses a unit of thought, has +been uttered. In narration these groups of words follow in a sequence +exactly as the actions which they represent do. Take this rather lurid +bit from Stevenson:-- + + "He dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the + pistol, whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring + out an oath; and at the same time either my courage came + again, or I grew so much afraid as came to the same thing; + for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the body." + ("Kidnapped.") + +Each phrase or clause here is a unit of thought, and each follows the +others in the same order as the events they tell of occurred. On the +other hand, when one attempts description, and exposition too in many +cases, he realizes the great difficulties imposed by the language +itself; for in these forms of discourse the author not infrequently +wishes to put the whole picture before the reader at once, or to set +out several propositions at the same time, as belonging to one general +truth. In order that the reader may get the complete picture or the +complete thought, he must hold in mind often a whole paragraph before +he unites it into the one conception the author intended. In narration +one action is completed; it can be dropped. Then another follows, +which can also be dropped. They need not be held in mind until the +paragraph is finished. Narration is exactly suited to the means of its +communication. The events which are recorded, and the sentences which +record them, both follow in a sequence. + + Without Plot. + +The sequence of events in narration may be a simple sequence of time, +in which case the narrative is without plot. This is the form of +narration employed in newspapers in giving the events of the day. It +is used in journals, memoirs, biographies, and many elementary +histories. It makes little demand upon an author further than that he +shall say clearly something that is interesting. Interesting it must +be, if the author wishes it to be read; readers will not stay over +dull material. Newspapers and magazines look out for interesting +material, and it is for the matter in them that they are read. So +memoirs and biographies are read, not to find out what happens at +last,--that is known,--but to pick up information concerning an +interesting subject. + + Plot. + +Or the sequence may be a more subtle and binding relation of cause and +effect. This is the sequence employed in stories. One thing happens +because another thing has happened. Generally the sequence of time and +the sequence of cause and effect correspond; for effects come after +causes. When, however, more than one cause is introduced, or when some +cause is at work which the author hides until he can most +advantageously produce it, or when an effect is held back for purposes +of creating interest, the events may not be related exactly in the +order in which they occurred. When any sequence is introduced in +addition to the simple sequence of time, or when the time sequence is +disturbed for the purpose of heightening interest, there is an +arrangement of the parts which is generally termed plot. + +Plot is a term difficult to define. We feel, however, that Grant's +"Memoirs" have no plot, and we feel just as sure that "King Lear" has +a plot. So, too, we say that "Robinson Crusoe" has little, almost no +plot; that the plot is simple in "Treasure Island," and that "Les +Miserables" has an intricate plot. A plot seems to demand more than a +mere succession of events. _Any arrangement of the parts of a +narrative so that the reader's interest is aroused concerning the +result of the series of events detailed is a plot._ + +It often occurs that a book which, as a whole, is without a plot, +contains incidents which have a plot. In "Travels with a Donkey," by +Stevenson, no one cares for the plot of the whole book,--in fact there +is none; yet the reader is interested in the purchase of the "neat and +high bred" Modestine up to the "last interview with Father Adam in a +billiard-room at the witching hour of dawn, when I administered the +brandy." This incident has a plot. The following is a paragraph from +"An Autumn Effect" by Mr. Stevenson. The simple events are perfectly +ordered, and there is a delightful surprise at the end. This paragraph +has a plot. Yet the thirty pages of "An Autumn Effect" could not be +said to have a plot. + + "Bidding good-morning to my fellow-traveler, I left the road + and struck across country. It was rather a revelation to + pass from between the hedgerows and find quite a bustle on + the other side, a great coming and going of school-children + upon by-paths, and, in every second field, lusty horses and + stout country-folk a-ploughing. The way I followed took me + through many fields thus occupied, and through many strips + of plantation, and then over a little space of smooth turf, + very pleasant to the feet, set with tall fir-trees and + clamorous with rooks, making ready for the winter, and so + back again into the quiet road. I was now not far from the + end of my day's journey. A few hundred yards farther, and, + passing through a gap in the hedge, I began to go down hill + through a pretty extensive tract of young beeches. I was + soon in shadow myself, but the afternoon sun still colored + the upmost boughs of the wood, and made a fire over my head + in the autumnal foliage. A little faint vapor lay among the + slim tree-stems in the bottom of the hollow; and from + farther up I heard from time to time an outburst of gross + laughter, as though clowns were making merry in the bush. + There was something about the atmosphere that brought all + sights and sounds home to one with a singular purity, so + that I felt as if my senses had been washed with water. + After I had crossed the little zone of mist, the path began + to remount the hill; and just as I, mounting along with it, + had got back again from the head downwards, into the thin + golden sunshine, I saw in front of me a donkey tied to a + tree. Now, I have a certain liking for donkeys, principally, + I believe, because of the delightful things that Sterne has + written of them. But this was not after the pattern of the + ass at Lyons. He was of a white color, that seemed to fit + him rather for rare festal occasions than for constant + drudgery. Besides, he was very small, and of the daintiest + proportions you can imagine in a donkey. And so, sure + enough, you had only to look at him to see he had never + worked. There was something too roguish and wanton in his + face, a look too like that of a schoolboy or a street Arab, + to have survived much cudgeling. It was plain that these + feet had kicked off sportive children oftener than they had + plodded with freight through miry lanes. He was altogether a + fine-weather, holiday sort of a donkey; and though he was + just then somewhat solemnized and rueful, he still gave + proof of the levity of his disposition by impudently wagging + his ears at me as I drew near. I say he was somewhat + solemnized just then; for with the admirable instinct of all + men and animals under restraint, he had so wound and wound + the halter about the tree that he could go neither back nor + forwards, nor so much as put his head down to browse. There + he stood, poor rogue, part puzzled, part angry, part, I + believe, amused. He had not given up hope, and dully + revolved the problem in his head, giving ever and again + another jerk at the few inches of free rope that still + remained unwound. A humorous sort of sympathy for the + creature took hold upon me. I went up, and, not without some + trouble on my part, and much distrust and resistance on the + part of Neddy, got him forced backwards until the whole + length of the halter was set loose, and he was once more as + free a donkey as I dared to make him. I was pleased (as + people are) with this friendly action to a fellow-creature + in tribulation, and glanced back over my shoulder to see how + he was profiting by his freedom. The brute was looking after + me; and no sooner did he catch my eye than he put up his + long white face into the air, pulled an impudent mouth at + me, and began to bray derisively. If ever any one person + made a grimace at another, that donkey made a grimace at me. + The hardened ingratitude of his behavior, and the + impertinence that inspired his whole face as he curled up + his lip, and showed his teeth and began to bray, so tickled + me and was so much in keeping with what I had imagined to + myself of his character, that I could not find it in my + heart to be angry, and burst into a peal of hearty laughter. + This seemed to strike the ass as a repartee, so he brayed at + me again by way of rejoinder; and we went on for awhile, + braying and laughing, until I began to grow a-weary of it, + and shouting a derisive farewell, turned to pursue my way. + In so doing--it was like going suddenly into cold water--I + found myself face to face with a prim, little old maid. She + was all in a flutter, the poor old dear! She had concluded + beyond question that this must be a lunatic who stood + laughing aloud at a white donkey in the placid beech-woods. + I was sure, by her face, that she had already recommended + her spirit most religiously to Heaven, and prepared herself + for the worst. And so, to reassure her, I uncovered and + besought her, after a very staid fashion, to put me on my + way to Great Missenden. Her voice trembled a little, to be + sure, but I think her mind was set at rest; and she told me, + very explicitly, to follow the path until I came to the end + of the wood, and then I should see the village below me in + the bottom of the valley. And, with mutual courtesies, the + little old maid and I went on our respective ways." + +Books of travel, memoirs, and biographies, as whole books, are +generally without any arrangement serious enough to be termed a plot; +yet a large part of the interest in such books would be lost were the +incidents there collected not well told, with a conscious attempt to +set them out in the very best fashion; indeed, if each incident did +not have a plot. In "Vanity Fair" with its six hundred pages, in +"Silas Marner" with its two hundred pages, in the short stories of our +best magazines, in the spicy little anecdotes in the "Youth's +Companion,"--in the least bit of a good story as well as the +three-volume novel, the authors have used the means best suited to +retain the interest to the end. They have constructed plots. + + Unity, Mass, and Coherence. + +In the construction of any piece of composition there are three +principles of primary importance: they are Unity, which is concerned +with the material itself; and Mass and Coherence, which are concerned +with the arrangement of the material. A composition has unity when all +the material has been so sifted and selected that each part +contributes its share to the central thought of the whole. Whether of +a sentence, a paragraph, or a whole composition, all those parts must +be excluded which do not bring something of value to the whole; and +everything must be included which is necessary to give a clear +understanding of the whole. Mass, the second principle of structure, +demands that those parts of a composition, paragraph, or sentence +which are of most importance shall be so placed that they will arrest +the attention. By coherence is meant that principle of structure +which, in sentences, paragraphs, and whole compositions, places those +parts related in thought near together, and keeps separate those parts +which are separated in thought. + + Main Incident. + +For the construction of a story that will retain the reader's interest +to the end, for the selection of such material as will contribute to a +central thought, for the arrangement of this material so that the most +important matter shall occupy the most important position in the +theme, one simple rule is of value. It is this: _First choose the main +incident_ towards which all the other incidents converge, and for the +accomplishment of which the preceding incidents are necessary. A few +pages will be given to the application of this rule, and to the +results of its application. + + Its Importance. + +There should be in each story, however slight the plot, some incident +that is more important than the others, and toward which all the +others converge. A reader is disappointed if, after reading a story +through, he finds that there is no worthy ending, that all the +preparation was made for no purpose. If, in "Wee Willie Winkie," +Kipling had stopped just before Miss Allardyce started across the +river, it would have been a poor story. It would have had no ending. +It is because a story gets somewhere that we like it. Yet not just +somewhere; it must arrive at a place worthy of all the preparation +that has preceded. A very common fault with the compositions of young +persons is that they begin big and end little. It is not infrequent +that the first paragraph promises well; the second is not quite so +good; and the rest gradually fall off until the end is worthless. The +order should be changed. Have the first paragraph promise well, make +the second better, and the last best of all. The main incident should +be more important than each incident that precedes it. Get the main +incident in mind before beginning; be sure it is the main incident; +then bend all your energies to make it the most important incident +toward which all the other incidents converge. + + Unity. + +The choice of a main incident will determine what incidents to +exclude. The world is full of incidents--enough to make volumes more +than we now have. A phonograph and a camera could gather enough any +day at a busy corner in a city to fill a volume; yet these pictures +and these bits of conversation, interesting as each in itself might +be, would not be a unit,--not one story, but many. Few persons, +indeed, would write anything so disjointed as the report made by this +phonograph; yet good writers are often led astray by the brilliancy of +their own ideas. They have so many good stories on hand which they +would like to tell, that they force some of them into their present +story, and so spoil two stories. In the very popular "David Harum," it +would puzzle any one to know why the author has introduced the ladies +from the city and the musical party at the lake. The episode is good +enough in itself; but in this story it has not a shadow of excuse. +There is a phrase of Kipling's that should ring in every +story-teller's ears. Not once only, but a number of times, this prince +of modern story-tellers catches himself--almost too late +sometimes--and writes, "But that is another story." One incident calls +up another; paragraph follows paragraph naturally. It is easy enough +to look back and trace the road by which the writer arrived at his +present position; yet it would be very hard to tell why he came +hither, or to see how the journey up to this point will at all put him +toward his destination. He has digressed; he has left the road. And he +must get back to the road. By this digression he has wasted just as +much time as it has taken to come from the direct road to this point +added to the time it will take to go back. Do not digress; tell one +story at a time; let no incident into your story which cannot answer +the question, "Why are you here?" by "I help;" keep your eye on the +main incident; things which do not unquestionably contribute something +to the main incident should be excluded. + + Introductions and Conclusions. + +The choice of the main incident towards which all other incidents +converge will rid compositions of worthless introductions and trailing +conclusions. A story should get under way at once; and any +explanations at the beginning, the introduction of long descriptions +or tedious paragraphs of "fine writing," will be headed off if the +pupil keeps constantly in mind that it must all lead directly toward +the main incident. Again, if everything converges to the main +incident, when that has been told the story is finished. After that +there must be no explanations, no moralizing, nothing. When the story +has been told it is a good rule to stop. + +An excellent example of a short story well told is "An Incident of the +French Camp," by Robert Browning. Only the absolutely necessary has +been introduced. The incidents flash before the reader. Nothing can be +said after the last line. "Herve Riel" is a vivid piece of narrative +too. Such an exhibition of manliness appeals to all. Was it necessary +to attach the last stanza? If this poem needed it, why not the other? +If the story has no moral in it, no man can tie it on; if there is +one, the reader should be accounted intelligent enough to find it +without any help. + + Tedious Enumerations. + +Making all the incidents converge to one main incident will avoid +tiresome enumerations of inconsequential events, which frequently fill +the compositions of young pupils. Such essays generally start with "a +bright, clear morning," and "a party of four of us." After recounting +a dozen events of no consequence whatever, "we came home to a late +supper, well repaid for our day's outing." These compositions may be +quite correct in the choice of words, sentences, and paragraphs, and +with it all be flat. There is nothing to them; they get the reader +nowhere. Pick out one of the many incidents. Work it up. Turn back to +the paragraph from Stevenson and notice how little there is to it when +reduced to bare outline. He has worked it up so that it is good. +Always remember that a short anecdote well told is worth pages of +aimless enumeration. + + What to include. + +The selection of the main incident will guide in determining what to +include; for every detail must be included that is necessary to make +the main incident possible. A young pupil wrote of a party in the +woods. The girls had found pleasant seats in a car and were chatting +about their friends, when they felt a sudden lurch, and soon one of +the party was besmeared by slippery, sticky whites of eggs. Now, if +eggs were in the habit of clinging to the roofs of cars and breaking +at unfortunate moments, there would be no need of any explanation; but +as the cook forgot to boil the eggs and the girl had put them up into +the rack herself, some of this should have been told. Enough at least +should be told to make the main incident a possibility. Stories are +full of surprises, but they can be understood easily from the +preceding incidents; or else the new element is one that happens +frequently, and of itself is nothing new. In the paragraph from +Stevenson, the entrance of the "prim, little old maid" is a surprise, +but it is a very common thing for ladies to walk upon a public +highway. Any surprise must be natural,--the result of causes at work +in the story, or of circumstances which are always occurring and by +themselves no surprises. If the story be a tangled web of incidents +culminating in some horror, as the death of the beautiful young wife +in Hawthorne's "Birthmark," all the events must be told that are +necessary to carry the reader from the first time he beholds her +beauty until he sees her again, her life ebbing away as the fairy hand +fades from her cheek. In "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep" it would be +impossible to pass directly from the sweet boy of the first chapter to +the little liar of the last; something must be told of those miserable +days that intervene, and their telling effect on the little fellow. So +a reader could not harmonize his idea of old Scrooge gained in the +first chapter with generous Mr. Scrooge of the last without the +intermediate chapters. Keeping the main incident in mind, include all +that is necessary to make it possible. + + Consistency. + +This same rule more than any other will make a story consistent. If +incidents are chosen with relation to the one main incident, they will +all have a common quality; they can scarcely be inconsistent. It is +much more essential that a story be consistent than that it be a fact. +Indeed, facts are not necessary in stories, and they are dangerous. +Ian Maclaren says that the only part of his stories that has been +severely criticised is a drowning episode, which was a fact, and the +only one he ever used. Yet to those who have read "The Bonnie Brier +Bush," the old doctor is as well known as any person who lives across +the street; he is real to us, though he never lived. "Old Scrooge" and +"Brom Bones" are better known than John Adams is. A good character or +a good story need not be drawn from facts. Indeed, in literature as in +actual life, facts are stubborn things, and will not accommodate +themselves to new surroundings. Make the story consistent; be not too +careful about the facts. + +A story may be good and be entirely contrary to all known facts. "The +Ugly Duckling" is as true as Fiske's "History of the United States," +and every whit as consistent. "Alice in Wonderland" is an excellent +story; yet it contains no facts. The introduction of a single fact +would ruin the story; for between the realm of fact and the region of +fancy is a great gulf fixed, and no man has successfully crossed it. +Whatever conditions of life and action are assumed in one part of a +story must be continued throughout. If walruses talk and hens are +reasonable in one part of the story, to reduce them to every-day +animals would be ruinous. Consistency, that the parts stand together, +that the story seem probable,--this is more essential than facts. And +to gain this consistency the surest rule is to test the material by +its relation to the main incident. + +The choice of the main incident, then, will determine to a great +degree what to exclude and what to include; it will assist in ridding +compositions of countless enumerations, aimless wanderings, and flat +endings; it will help the writer to get started, and insure a stop +when the story is told; and it will give to the story the quality most +essential for its success, consistency. + + An Actor as the Storyteller. + +There is yet another condition that enters into the selection of +materials: it makes a difference who tells the story. If the story be +told in the first person, that is, if one of the actors tell the +story, he cannot be supposed to know all that the other persons do +when out of sight and hearing, nor can he know what they think. To +take an illustration from a pupil's essay. A girl took her baby sister +out upon the lake in a rowboat. A violent storm arose, lashing the +lake into a fury. The oars were wrenched from her hands. Helpless on +the water, how was she to be saved? Here the essayist recited an +infinite amount of detail about the distress at home, giving the +conversation and the actions. These things she could not have known in +the character she had assumed at the beginning, that of the chief +actor. All of that should have been excluded. When Stevenson tells of +the fight in the round house, though he knew what those old salts were +doing outside, matters of great interest to the reader, he does not +let David say anything except what he could see or hear, and a very +little of what he "learned afterwards." Stevenson knew well who was +telling the story; David is too good a story-teller to tell what he +could not know. In the pupil's essay and in "Kidnapped," all such +matters would have a direct bearing on the main incident; they could +be included without destroying the unity of the story. But they cannot +be included when the story is told by one of the actors. + + The Omniscience of an Author. + +Many stories, probably most stories, are told in the third person. In +this case the author assumes the position of an omniscient power who +knows everything that is done, said, or thought by the characters in +his story. Not only what happens in the next room, but what is thought +at the other side of the world, is comprehended in his omniscience. +This is the position assumed by Irving in "The Legend of Sleepy +Hollow," by Kipling in the series of stories included with "Wee Willie +Winkie," by Scott in "Marmion," and by most great novelists. +Omniscience is, however, a dangerous prerogative for a young person. +The power is so great that the person who has but recently come into +possession of it becomes dizzy with it and uncertain in his movements. +A young person knows what he would do under certain conditions; but to +be able to know what some other person would do and think under a +certain set of circumstances requires a sure knowledge of character, +and the capability of assuming entirely different and unaccustomed +points of view. It is much safer for the beginner to take the point of +view of one of the actors, and tell the story in the first person. +Then when the grasp has become sure from this standpoint, he may +assume the more difficult role of the omniscient third person. + +To sum up what has been said about the selection of materials: only +those materials should be admitted to a story which contribute to its +main incident, which are consistent with one another, and which could +have been known by the narrator. + + The Climax. + +When the materials for a story have been selected, the next +consideration is their arrangement. If the materials have been +selected to contribute to the main incident and converge toward it, it +will follow that _the main incident_ will come last in the story; it +_will be the climax_ towards which the several parts of the story are +directed. Moreover, it should be last, in order to retain the interest +of the reader up to that time. This is in accordance with the demands +of the second great principle of structure, Mass. An essay is well +massed if the parts are so arranged that things of importance will +arrest the attention. In literature to be read, to arrest the +attention is almost equivalent to catching the eye. The positions that +catch the eye, whether in sentence, paragraph, or essay, are the +beginning and the end. Were it not for another element which enters +into the calculation, these positions would be of nearly equal +importance. Since, however, the mind retains the most vivid impression +of the thing it received last, the impression of the end of the +sentence, paragraph, or essay is stronger than the impression made by +its beginning. The climax of a story should come at the end, both +because it is the result of preceding incidents, and because by this +position it receives the additional emphasis due to its position. + + Who? Where? When? Why? + +The beginning is the position of second importance. What, then, shall +stand in this place? A story resembles a puzzle. The solution of the +puzzle is given at the end; the thing of next importance is the +conditions of the puzzle. In "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep" the story +culminates in the surprise of a devoted mother when she discovers that +her boy is a secretive little liar, who now deserves to be called +"Black Sheep." This is the end; what was the beginning,--the +conditions necessary to bring about this deplorable result? First, +they were _the persons;_ second, _the place;_ third, _the time._ In +many stories there is introduced the reason for telling the story. +These conditions, answering the questions Who? Where? When? and Why? +are all, or some of them, introduced at the beginning of any +narrative, and as soon as it can be done, they ought all to be given. +In a short essay, they are in the first paragraph; in a novel, in the +first chapters. In "Marmion" the time, the place, and the principal +character are introduced into the first canto. So Irving begins "The +Legend of Sleepy Hollow" with the place and time, then follow the +characters. In all stories the beginning is occupied in giving the +conditions of the story; that is, the principal characters, the time, +and the place. + + In what Order? + +Having the end and the beginning clearly in mind, the next question is +how best to get from one to the other. Shall the incidents be arranged +in order of time? or shall other considerations govern? If it be any +narrative of the journal form, whether a diary or a biography, the +chronological arrangement will direct the sequence of events. Again, +if it be a simple story with a single series of events, the time order +will prevail. If, however, it be a narrative which contains several +series of events, as a history or a novel, it may be wise, even +necessary, to deviate from the time sequence. It would have been +unwise for Scott to hold strictly to the order of time in "Marmion;" +after introducing the principal character, giving the time and the +setting, it was necessary for him to bring in another element of the +plot, Constance, and to go backward in time to pick up this thread of +the story. The really essential order in any narrative is the order of +cause and effect. As causes precede effects, the causal order and the +time order generally coincide. In a single series of events, that is, +where one cause alone produces an effect, which in turn becomes the +cause of another effect, the time order is the causal order. In a +novel, or a short story frequently, where there are more than one +series of incidents contributing to and converging towards the main +incident, these causes must all be introduced before the effect, and +may break the chronological order of the story. In "Roger Malvin's +Burial," it would be impossible to tell what the stricken father was +doing and what the joyous mother was thinking at the same time. +Hawthorne must leave one and go to the other until they meet in their +awful desolation. The only rule that can be given is, introduce causes +before effects. In all stories, short or long, this will result in an +approximation to the order of time; in a simple story it will +invariably give a time sequence. + +There is one exception to this rule which should be noted. It is +necessary at the very beginning to have some incident that will arrest +the attention. This does not mean that persons, place, and time shall +not come first. They shall come first, but they shall be so introduced +as to make an interesting opening to the story. The novels of some +decades ago did not sufficiently recognize the principle. One can +frequently hear it said of Scott's stories, "I can't get started with +them; they are too dry." The introductory chapters are often +uninteresting. So much history is introduced, so much scenery is +described before the author sets out his characters; and all this is +done before he begins the story. Novelists of to-day realize that they +must interest the reader at the beginning; when they have caught him, +they are quite certain that he will bear with them while they bring up +the other divisions of the story, which now have become interesting +because they throw light on what has already been told. Even more than +novelists, dramatists recognize this principle. When the curtain rises +on the first act, something interesting is going on. The action +frequently begins far along in the time covered by the story; then by +cleverly arranged conversation all circumstances before the time of +the opening that are necessary to the development of the plot are +introduced. The audience receives these minor yet essential details +with no impatience, since they explain in part a situation already +interesting. The time order may be broken in order to introduce at the +beginning of the story some interesting situation which will +immediately engage the reader's attention. + +In arranging the materials of a story, the main considerations are +Mass and Coherence. Mass demands important matters at the beginning +and at the end of a story. Coherence demands that events closely +related shall stand close together: that an effect shall immediately +follow its cause. Beginning with some interesting situation that will +also introduce the principal characters, the time, and the setting, +the story follows in the main the order of time, and concludes with +the main incident. + + An Outline. + +One practical suggestion will assist in arranging the parts of a +story. Use an outline. It will guard against the omission of any +detail that may afterward be found necessary, and against the +necessity of offering the apology, inexcusable in prepared work, of +"forgetting to say;" it will help the writer to see the best +arrangement of the parts, to know that causes have preceded effects. +The outline in narration should not be too much in detail, nor should +it be followed if, as the story progresses, new light comes and the +writer sees a better way to proceed. The writer should be above the +outline, not its slave; but the outline is a most valuable servant of +the writer. + + Movement. + +_Movement is an essential quality of narrative;_ a story must advance. +This does not mean that the story shall always go at the same rate, +though it does mean that it shall always go. If a story always had the +rapidity and intensity of a climax, it would be intolerable. Music +that is all rushing climaxes is unbearable; a picture must not be a +glare of high lights. The quiet passages in music, the grays and low +tones in the background of the picture, the slow chapters in a story, +are as necessary as their opposites; indeed, climaxes are dependent on +contrasts in order to be climaxes. + + Rapidity. + +The question of movement resolves itself into these two: how is +rapidity of movement obtained, and how can the writer delay the +movement. Rapidity is gained by the omission of all unnecessary +details, and the use of the shortest, tersest sentences to express the +absolutely essential. Dependent clauses disappear; either the +sentences are simple, just one sharp statement, or they are made of +coordinate clauses with no connectives. Every weight that could clog +the story is thrown away, and it runs with the swiftness of the +thought. At such a time it would be a waste of good material to +introduce beautiful descriptions or profound philosophy. Such things +would be skipped by the reader. Everything must clear the way for the +story. + + Slowness. + +What has been said of rapidity will indicate the answer to the second +question. Slowness of movement is obtained by introducing long +descriptions, analyses of characters, and information regarding the +history or customs of the time. Sentences become long and involved; +dependent clauses abound; connective words and phrases are frequent. +Needless details may be introduced until the story becomes wearisome; +it has almost no movement. + +Very closely connected with what has been said above is another fact +concerning movement. Strip the sentences as you may, there are still +the verbs remaining. Verbs and derivatives from verbs are the words +which denote action. If other classes of words be taken out, the ratio +of verbs to the other words in the sentence is larger. Shorter +sentences and an increased ratio of verbs mark the passages in which +the movement is more rapid. In "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep" the sentences +average twenty-five words in the slower parts; in the intenser +paragraphs the sentences have an average of fifteen words. Poe's +"Gold-Bug" changes from thirty-eight to twenty-one. Again, Stevenson's +essays have a verb to eight words, while the fight at the round house +has a verb to about five and a half words. One of Kipling's stories +starts in with a verb to eight and a half words, and the climax has a +verb in every four words. These figures mean that as the sentences are +shortened, adjectives, adverbs, phrases, connectives, disappear. +Everything not absolutely necessary is thrown away when the passage is +to express rapid movement. + +No person should think that, by eliminating all dependent clauses, +cutting away all unnecessary matters, and putting in a verb to every +four words, he can gain intensity of expression. These are only +accompanying circumstances. Climaxes are in the thought. When the +thought moves rapidly, when things are being done with a rush, when +the climax has been reached, then the writer will find that he can +approach the movement of the thought most nearly by using these means. + + Description and Narration. + +_A valuable accessory to narration is description;_ in truth, +description for its own sake is not frequently found. The story must +be somewhere; and it is more real when we know in what kind of a place +it occurs. Still it is not wise to do as Scott so often has +done,--give chapters of description at the beginning of the story. +Rather the setting should be scattered through the story so that it is +hardly perceptible. At no time should the reader halt and realize that +he is being treated to a description. Even in the beautiful +descriptions by Stevenson quoted in the next chapter, the work is so +intimately blended with the story that the reader unfortunately might +pass over it. A large part of the pleasure derived from the best +stories is supplied by good descriptions, giving a vivid picture of +the setting of the story. + +Description has another use in narration beside giving the setting of +the story; it is often used to accent the mood of the action. In "The +Fall of the House of Usher" by Poe, much of the gloomy foreboding is +caused by the weird descriptions. Hawthorne understood well the +harmony between man's feelings and his surroundings. The Sylvan Dance +in "The Marble Faun" is wonderfully handled. Irving, in "The Legend of +Sleepy Hollow," throws about the story a "witching influence," and +long before the Headless Horseman appears, the reader is quite sure +that the region abounds in "ghosts and goblins," dwelling in its +"haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted +houses." The danger in the use of description for this purpose is in +overdoing it. The fact is, as Arlo Bates says, "the villains no longer +steal through smiling gardens whose snowy lilies, all abloom, and +sending up perfume like incense from censers of silver, seem to rebuke +the wicked." Yet when handled as Stevenson and Irving handled it, +description assists in accenting the mood of the action. + + Characters few, Time short. + +_The number of characters should be few_ and the time of the action +short. Pupils are not able to handle a large number of persons. There +is, however, a stronger reason for it than incapacity. A young person +would have great trouble in remembering the large number of persons +introduced into "Little Dorrit." Many of them would always remain +entire strangers. Such a scattering of attention is unfavorable to a +story. To focus the interest upon a few, to have the action centred in +these few, increases the movement and intensity of the narrative. The +writers of short stories in France (perhaps the best story-tellers of +the present), Kipling, Davis, Miss Wilkins, and some others of our +best authors, find few characters all that are necessary, and they +gain in intensity by limiting the number of characters. + +For the same reason _the time should be short._ If all the incidents +chosen are crowded into a short period of time, the action must be +more rapid. The reader does not like to know five years have elapsed +between one event and the next, even if the story-teller does not try +to fill up the interim with matters of no consequence to the +narrative. One exception must be made to this rule. In stories whose +purpose is to portray a change of character, a long time is necessary; +for the transformation is not usually the result of a day's +experience, but a gradual process of years. "Silas Marner" and "Baa, +Baa, Black Sheep" demand time to make naturally the great changes +recounted. In general, however, the time should be short. + + Simple Plot. + +Moreover, _the plot should be simple._ This is not saying that the +plot should be evident. No one is quite satisfied if he knows just how +the story will turn out. There are, however, so many conditions in a +story that the accentuation of one or the subordination of another may +bring about something quite unexpected, yet perfectly natural. +Complicated plots have had their day; simple plots are now in vogue. +They are as natural as life, and quite as unfathomable. In Davis's +"Gallegher" there is nothing complicated; one thing follows another in +a perfectly natural way; yet there are many questions in the reader's +mind as to how the little rascal will turn out, and whether he will +accomplish his mission. Much more cleverness is shown by the +sleight-of-hand trickster, who, unassisted and in the open, with no +accessories, dupes his staring assembly, than by him who, on the +stage, with the aid of mirrors, lights, machines, and a crowd of +assistants, manages to deceive your eyes. A story that by its frank +simplicity takes the reader into its confidence, and brings him to a +conclusion that is so natural that it should have been foreseen from +the beginning, has a good plot. The conclusion of a story must be +natural,--the result of the causes at work in the story. It must be an +expected surprise. If it cannot be accounted for by the causes at work +in the story, the construction is faulty. In the world of fiction +there is not the liberty one experiences in the world of fact. There +things unexpected and unexplainable occur. But the story-teller has no +such privilege. Truth is stranger than fiction dare be. A simple, +natural story, with few characters and covering but a short period of +time, has three elements of success. + +Paragraph structure, sentence structure, and choice of words are taken +up in subsequent chapters. Of paragraphs it may be wise to say that +there will be as many as there are divisions in the outline; and +sometimes, by reason of the length of topic, a subdivision may be +necessary. The paragraph most common in narration is the paragraph of +details, the first form presented in the chapter on paragraphs. What +needs to be said of sentences has already been said when treating of +movement. Of words one thing may be suggested. Choose live words, +specific words, words that have "go" in them. + +It should be remembered that everything cannot be learned at once. The +study of the whole is the principal occupation just now. Select the +main incident; choose other incidents to be consistent with it; start +out at once giving the conditions of the story; proceed now fast, now +slow, as the thought demands, arriving at a conclusion that is an +expected surprise, the result of forces at work in the story. + + + SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES + +The questions are only suggestive. They indicate how literature can be +made to teach composition. Some questions may seem hard, and will +provoke discussion. To have even a false opinion, backed by only a few +facts, is better than an entire absence of thought. Encourage +discussion. The answers to the questions have not been suggested in +the questions themselves. The object has been to throw the pupil upon +his own thinking. + +These questions upon the "Method of the Author" should not be +considered until the far more important work of deriving the "Meaning +of the Author" has been finished. Only after the whole piece has been +carefully studied can the relation of the parts to the whole be +understood. Reserve the questions for the review. + + + QUESTIONS. + + THE GREAT STONE FACE. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 40.) + +In what paragraphs is the main incident? + +Can you find one sentence on the second page of the story that +foreshadows the result? + +How many incidents or episodes contribute to the story? + +Do these help in the development of Ernest's character? If not, what +is the use of them? + +Why are they arranged in this order? + +Introduce into its proper place an incident of a scientist. Write it +up. + +Do you think one of the incidents could be omitted? Which one? + +Are the incidents related in the order in which they occurred? Is one +the cause of another? + +Has the story a plot? Why do you think so? What is a plot? + +Where are introduced the time, place, and the principal character? + +What is the use of the description of "the great stone face"? + +Why does the author tell only what "was reported" of the interior of +Mr. Gathergold's palace? Is it better so? + +Are the descriptions to accent the mood of the story? or are they +primarily to make concrete and real the persons and places? + +Is there any place where the movement of the story is rapid? + +Does the author begin at once, and close when the story is told? + +Did you find any use of comparisons in the piece? (See top of p. 6, +top of p. 19, middle of p. 22.)[3] + +Of what value are they in composition? + + + THE GENTLE BOY. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 145.) + +What is the main incident? + +In relation to the whole story, in what place does it stand? + +Do the other incidents serve to develop the character of "the gentle +boy"? or are they introduced to open up to the reader that character? +(Compare with "Wee Willie Winkie.") + +Do you consider all the incidents necessary? + +Why has the author introduced the fact that Ilbrahim gently cared for +the little boy who fell from the tree? + +What is the use of the first two pages of the story? + +Where does the story really begin? + +How could you know the time, if the first page were not there? Is it a +delicate way of telling "when"? + +Notice that time, place, and principal characters all are introduced +into the first paragraph of the real story. + +Why does the author note the change in Tobias's circumstances? Does it +add to the interest of the story? Would you omit it? + +Do you think this plot more complicated than that of "The Great Stone +Face"? + +What is the use of the description on p. 31? + +What do you note as the difference between +(a) second line of p. 19, sixth line of p. 27, sixteenth line of p. +29, and (b) fourth line of p. 25, the figure in the complete paragraph +on p. 40? + + + THE GRAY CHAMPION. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 145.) + +Note the successive stages by which the time is approached. (Compare +with the beginning of "Silas Marner.") + +Can you feel any difference between the movement of this story and the +movement in "The Gentle Boy"? + +Is there any difference in the length of the sentences? (Remember that +the independent clauses of a compound sentence are very nearly the +same as simple sentences.) + +Is there any difference in the proportion of verbs and verbals? What +parts of speech have almost disappeared? + + + ROGER MALVIN'S BURIAL. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 145.) + +Why is the first paragraph needed? + +Why could the incident in the first paragraph on p. 50 not be omitted? +Do you find it later? + +How many chapters could you divide the story into? What is the basis +of division? + +Why did not Hawthorne tell the result of the shot at once? + +A plot is usually made by introducing more than one cause, by hiding +one of the causes, or by holding back an effect. Which in this story? + +Is there a change of movement between the beginning and the end of the +story? Look at the last two pages carefully. How has the author +expressed the intensity of the situation? + +Does the story end when it is finished? + + + THE WEDDING KNELL. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 145.) + +Of the three common ways of giving uncertainty to a plot, which has +been used? + +Do you call this plot more complicated than those of the other tales +studied? + +Why does the author say, at the top of p. 72, "necessary preface"? +Could it not be omitted? If not, what principle of narrative +construction would be violated by its omission? + +Why has he introduced the last paragraph on p. 74 reaching over to p. +75? + + + THE AMBITIOUS GUEST. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 40.) + +In what order are the elements of the story introduced? + +Pick out phrases which prepare you for the catastrophe. + +Can you detect any difference in the movement of the different parts +of the story? What aids its expression? + + + THE GOLD-BUG. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 120.) + +Would you have been satisfied if the story had stopped when the +treasure was discovered? What more do you want to know? + +What, then, is the main incident? Was the main incident the last to +occur in order of time? Why did Poe delay telling it until the end? + +Do you see how relating the story in the first person helped him to +throw the main incident last? Why could he not tell it before? + +Does Poe tell any other stories in the first person? + +In what person are "Treasure Island" and "Kidnapped" told? Are they +interesting? + +If a friend is telling you a story, do you care more for it if it is +about a third party or about himself? Why? + +What, then, is the advantage of making an actor the narrator? What are +some of the disadvantages? + +Do you think this plot as good as those of Hawthorne's stories? + +Why was it necessary to have "a day of remarkable chilliness" (p. 3), +and a Newfoundland dog rushing into the room (p. 6)? + +What principle would it violate to omit these little matters? +(Text-book, p. 24.) + +What of the rapidity of movement when they are digging? How has +rapidity been gained? + +What form of wit does Poe attempt? Does he succeed? + +Do you think the conversation is natural? If not, what is the matter +with it? + +Are negroes usually profane? Does Jupiter's general character lead you +to expect profanity from him? Is anything gained by his oaths? Is +anything sacrificed? In this story is profanity artistic? (To know +what is meant by "artistic," read the last line of "L'Envoi" on p. 253 +of the text-book.) + + + THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 30.) + +What is the purpose of the first stanza? + +What connection in thought is there between the second, third, and +fourth stanzas? What have these stanzas to do with the story? If they +have nothing to do with it, what principle of structure do they +violate? Would Lowell be likely to do this? + +What is the use of the description beginning "And what is so rare as a +day in June"? + +Would the story be complete without the preludes? Would the teaching +be understood without them? + +Are time and place definitely stated in the poem? Why should they be, +or not be? + +Why does so much time elapse between Part I. and Part II. of the +story? + +In what lines do you find the main incident? + +In the first prelude is Lowell describing a landscape of New England +or Old England? Where is the story laid? What comment have you to make +upon these facts? + +Pick out the figures. Are they useful? + +Can you find passages of exposition and description in this narrative? +Why do you call it narration? + +What is Lowell's criticism upon himself? (See "Fable for Critics.") + + + A CHRISTMAS CAROL. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 57.) + +Is the opening such as to catch the attention? + +What is the essential idea in the description of Scrooge? Do all +details enforce this idea? Do you know Scrooge? + +In what paragraph does Dickens tell where the story occurs? + +Find places on p. 19 and p. 96 where Dickens has used "in" or "into." + +What advantage to the story is the appearance in Scrooge's office of +his nephew and the two gentlemen? Do they come into the story again? + +Are the details in the description of the apparition on p. 41 in the +order in which they would be noted? Which is the most important +detail? Where is it in the description? + +Is the description of Mrs. Fezziwig on p. 52 successful? + +What helps express rapidity of movement in the paragraph at the bottom +of p. 53? (See also paragraph on p. 85.) + +Examining the words used by Dickens and Hawthorne, which are longer? +Which are most effectual? Are you sure? Rewrite one of Hawthorne's +paragraphs with a Dickens vocabulary. What is the result? + +What word is the topic of the last paragraph on p. 73? + +Recast the first sentence of the last paragraph on p. 77. + +Does Dickens use slang? (Do not consider conversation in the answer to +this question.) + +What is the main incident? Is there one of the minor incidents that +could be omitted? + +Which one could you most easily spare? + +What is the need of the last chapter? + + + MARMION. + (Rolfe's Student's Series, Vol. 2.) + +How do you know the time of "Marmion"? + +Do you see any reason why stanza vi. of Canto I. would better precede +stanza v.? + +Where is the first mention of De Wilton? the first intimation of Clara +de Clare? of Constance? + +What form of discourse in stanza vii. of Canto II.? + +What part in the development of the narrative does Fitz-Eustace's song +make? + +Does the tale related by the host break the unity of the whole? Is it +"another story"? What value has it? + +Why does Scott not tell of Marmion's encounter with the Elfin Knight +in Canto III.? Where is it told? Why there? + +Why is Canto II. put after Canto I.? Did the events related in II. +occur after those related in I.? + +How many of the descriptions of persons in "Marmion" begin with the +face? How many times are they of the face only? + +Try to write the incident related in stanzas xix., xx., xxi., and +xxii. of Canto III. in fewer words than Scott has done it without +sacrificing any detail. + +Are you satisfied with the description of King James in stanza viii. +Canto V.? Do you see him? + +Write an outline of the plot of "Marmion" in two hundred words. + +Why is the story of Lady Clare reserved until Canto V.? + +What cantos contain the main incident? + +Were all that precedes omitted, would "The Battle" be as interesting? + +Do you think the plot good? Is it complicated? + +What of the number of figures used in the last canto compared with +those used in any other canto? Do you find more in narrative or +descriptive passages? Why? + +Read stanza viii. Canto III. Can you describe a voice without using +comparison? + +Do the introductions to the several cantos form any part of the story? +Would they be just as good anywhere else? Would the story be better +with them, or without them? What principle of structure do they +violate? + + + EXERCISES. + +The subjects for composition given below are not intended as a course +to be followed, but only to suggest a plan for the work. The +individual topics for essays may not be the best for all cases. Long +lists of topics can be found in rhetorics. Bare subjects, however, are +usually unsuggestive. They should be adapted to the class. Put the +subjects in such shape that there is something to get hold of. Give +the pupils a fair start. + +1-4. In order to place before the pupils good models for constructing +stories, read one like "A Piece of String" in "An Odd Number," by +Maupassant. Stories for this purpose should not be long. Talk the +story over with the pupils, bringing out clearly the main incident and +the several episodes which contribute to it. Have them notice how +characters, time, and place are introduced; and how each succeeding +event is possible and natural. Then have it rewritten. This will fix +the idea of plan. For this purpose some of Miss Wilkins's stories are +excellent; Kenneth Grahame's "The Golden Age," and Miss Jewett's short +stories are good material. Some of the short stories in current +magazines serve well. + +5, 6. Read the first of a story and its close,--enough to indicate the +main incident and the setting of the story. Have the pupils write it +complete. + +7. Read the close of a story. The pupils will then write the whole. + +8. Read the opening of a story. Have the pupils complete it. + +9. Finish "The Circus-Man's Story" (Text-book, p. 297.) + +10. My First Algebra Lesson. Remember that in composition a good story +is worth more than a true one. The basis may be a fact. Do not +hesitate to fix it up. + +11. A delivery horse runs away. No persons are in the wagon. Tell +about it. + +12. Write about a runaway in which you and your little sister are +injured. (I have found it very helpful to use the same subject, but +having the relation of the narrator to the incident very different. It +serves to bring out a whole new vocabulary in order to express the +difference in the feelings of the narrator.) + +13. Write the story suggested to your mind by these words: Digging in +the sand I found a board much worn by the waves, on which were cut, in +characters scarcely traceable, these words: "Dec.----18 9, N. J." + +14. A humorous incident in a street car, in which the joke was on the +other fellow. + +15. Another in which the joke was on me. The same incident may be used +with good effect. The choice of new words to express the difference of +feelings makes an excellent exercise. + +16. Tell the story that Doreas related to her neighbors about her +husband's escape and her father's death. + +17. To bring out the fact that the language must be varied to suit the +character of the reader or listener, tell a fairy story to a sleepy +five-year old so that he will not go to sleep. Do not hesitate at +exaggerations. Only remember it must be consistent. + +18. Have "The Gentle Boy" tell one of the incidents in which he was +cruelly treated. This may well be an incident of your own life adapted +to its purpose. + +19, 20. Jim was a mean boy. Meanness seemed to be in his blood. He was +all mean. His hair was mean; his freckles were mean; his big, chapped +hands were mean. And he was always mean. He was mean to his pets; he +was meaner to small boys; and he was as mean as he dared to be to his +equals in size. + +Write one incident to show Jim's meanness. + +Write another to show how Jim met his match, and learned a lesson. + +21. Work up the following into a story. It all occurs in one day at +the present time. Place, your own city. Characters, a poor sewing +girl, her little sick brother, and a wealthy society lady. Incidents: +a conversation between brother and sister about some fruit; a +conversation between the sewing girl and the lady about money due for +sewing; stealing apples; arrest; appearance of the lady. Title: Who +was the Criminal? + +22. A story of a modern Sir Launfal. + +23. The most thrilling moment of my life. + +24. Tell the whole story suggested by the stanza of "A Nightingale in +the Study," by Lowell, which begins, "Cloaked shapes, a twanging of +guitars." + +25. Write a story which teaches a lesson. Remember that the lesson is +in the story, not at its end. + +In the work at this time but little attention can be given to the +teaching of paragraphs and sentences. The pupil should learn what a +paragraph is, and should have his composition properly divided into +paragraphs. But the form and massing of paragraphs cannot be taken up +at this time. The same may be said of sentences. He should have no +sentences broken in two by periods; nor should he have two sentences +forced into one. Grammatical errors should be severely criticised. +However, the present work is to get the pupils started; and they +cannot get started if there is a teacher holding them back by +discouraging criticisms. Mark all mistakes of whatever kind; but put +the stress upon the whole composition: its unity, its coherence, its +mass, and its movement. Everything cannot be done at once; many +distressing faults will have to be passed over until later. + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER IV + + DESCRIPTION + + + Difficulties of Language for making Pictures. + +Description has been defined as the form of literature which presents +a picture by means of language. In the preceding chapter, it has been +pointed out that the sequence of language is perfectly adapted to +detail the sequence of action in a narrative. For the purpose of +constructing a picture, the means has serious drawbacks. The picture +has to be presented in pieces; and the difficulties are much as would +be experienced if "dissected maps and animals" used for children's +amusement were to be put together in the head. It would not be easy to +arrange the map of the United States from blocks, each containing a +small part of it, taken one at a time from a box. Yet this closely +resembles the method language forces us to adopt in constructing a +picture. Each phrase is like one of the blocks, and introduces a new +element into the picture; from these phrases the reader must +reconstruct the whole. This means not alone that he shall remember +them all, but there is a more serious trouble: he must often rearrange +them. For example, a description by Ruskin begins, "Nine years old." +Either a boy or a girl, the reader thinks, as it may be in his own +home. In the case of this reader it is a boy, rather tall of his age, +with brown hair and dark eyes. But the next phrase reads, "Neither +tall nor short for her age." Now the reader knows it is a girl of +common stature. Later on he learns that her eyes are "deep blue;" her +lips "perfectly lovely in profile;" and so on through the details of +the whole sketch. Many times in the course of the description the +reader makes up a new picture; he is continually reconstructing. Any +one who will observe his own mind while reading a new description can +prove that the picture is arranged and rearranged many times. This is +due to the means by which it is presented. Language presents only a +phrase at a time,--a fragment, not a whole,--and so fails in the +instantaneous presentation of a complete picture. + + Painting and Sculpture. + +The painter or sculptor who upon canvas or in stone flashes the whole +composition before us at the same instant of time, has great +advantages over the worker in words. In these methods there is needed +no reconstruction of previous images, no piecing together of a number +of fragments. Without any danger of mistakes which will have to be +corrected later, the spectator can take in the whole picture at +once,--every relation, every color, every difference in values. + +It is because pictures are the surest and quickest means of +representing objects to the mind that books, especially text-books, +and magazines are so profusely illustrated. No magazine can claim +popularity to-day that does not use illustrations where possible; no +text-book in science or history sells unless it contains pictures. And +this is because all persons accurately and quickly get the idea from a +picture. + + Advantages of Language. + +Whatever be the disadvantages of language, there are some advantages. +Who could paint this from Hawthorne? + + "Soon the smoke ascended among the trees, impregnated with + _savory incense,_ not _heavy, dull,_ and _surfeiting,_ like + the steam of cookery indoors, but _sprightly_ and _piquant._ + The _smell_ of our feast was akin to the woodland odors with + which it mingled." ("Mosses from an Old Manse.") + +Or this from Lowell?-- + + "Under the yaller-pines I house, + When sunshine makes 'em all _sweet-scented,_ + An' _hear_ among their furry boughs + The _baskin'_ west wind _purr contented,_ + While 'way o'erhead, ez _sweet_ an' _low + Ez distant bells thet ring for meetin',_ + The wedged wil' geese _their bugles blow,_ + Further an' further South retreatin'."[4] + +Or cut this from marble?-- + + "O mother Ida, many-fountained Ida, + Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die. + For now the noonday quiet holds the hill; + The grasshopper is silent in the grass; + The lizard, with his shadow on the stone, + Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead. + The purple flower droops; the golden bee + Is lily-cradled; I alone awake. + My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, + My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim, + And I am all aweary of my life."[5] + +The painter cannot put sounds upon a canvas, nor can the sculptor +carve from marble an odor or a taste. We use the other senses in +determining qualities of objects; and words which describe effects +produced by other senses beside sight are valuable in description. As +Lowell says, "we may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing" a +large number of beautiful things. Moreover, language suggests hidden +ideas that the representative arts cannot so well do. The following +from a "Song" by Lowell has in it suggestions which the picture could +not present. + + "Violet! sweet violet! + Thine eyes are full of tears; + Are they wet + Even yet + With the thought of other years? + Or with gladness are they full, + For the night so beautiful, + And longing for those far-off spheres? + + "Thy little heart, that hath with love + Grown colored like the sky above, + On which thou lookest ever,-- + Can it know + All the woe + Of hope for what returneth never, + All the sorrow and the longing + To these hearts of ours belonging?" + + Enumeration and Suggestion + +Description, like narration, has two large divisions: one simply to +give information or instruction; the other to present a vivid picture. +One is _representative_ or _enumerative;_ the other, _suggestive._ One +may be illustrated by guide-books; the other by the descriptions of +Stevenson or Ruskin. And in the most artistic fashion the two have +been made to supplement each other in the following picture of "bright +and beautiful Athens" by Cardinal Newman. From the first, to the +sentence beginning "But what he would not think of," there is simply +an enumeration of features which a commercial agent might see; the +rest is what the artistic soul of the lover of beauty saw there. One +is enumeration; the other a gloriously suggestive picture. + + "A confined triangle, perhaps fifty miles its greatest + length, and thirty its greatest breadth; two elevated rocky + barriers, meeting at an angle; three prominent mountains, + commanding the plain,--Parnes, Pentelicus, and Hymettus; an + unsatisfactory soil; some streams, not always full;--such is + about the report which the agent of a London company would + have made of Attica. He would report that the climate was + mild; the hills were limestone; there was plenty of good + marble; more pasture land than at first survey might have + been expected, sufficient, certainly, for sheep and goats; + fisheries productive; silver mines once, but long since + worked out; figs fair; oil first-rate; olives in profusion. + But what he would not think of noting down was that that + olive-tree was so choice in nature and so noble in shape + that it excited a religious veneration; and that it took so + kindly to the light soil as to expand into woods upon the + open plain, and to climb up and fringe the hills. He would + not think of writing word to his employers, how that clear + air, of which I have spoken, brought out, yet blended and + subdued, the colors on the marble, till they had a softness + and harmony, for all their richness, which in a picture + looks exaggerated, yet is after all within the truth. He + would not tell how that same delicate and brilliant + atmosphere freshened up the pale olive, till the olive + forgot its monotony, and its cheek glowed like the arbutus + or beech of the Umbrian hills. He would say nothing of the + thyme and the thousand fragrant herbs which carpeted + Hymettus; he would hear nothing of the hum of its bees; nor + take account of the rare flavor of its honey, since Gaza and + Minorca were sufficient for the English demand. He would + look over the Aegean from the height he had ascended; he + would follow with his eyes the chain of islands, which, + starting from the Sunian headland, seemed to offer the + fabled divinities of Attica, when they would visit their + Ionian cousins, a sort of viaduct thereto across the sea; + but that fancy would not occur to him, nor any admiration of + the dark violet billows with their white edges down below; + nor of those graceful, fan-like jets of silver upon the + rocks, which slowly rise aloft like water spirits from the + deep, then shiver, and break, and spread, and shroud + themselves, and disappear in a soft mist of foam; nor of the + gentle, incessant heaving and panting of the whole liquid + plain; nor of the long waves, keeping steady time, like a + line of soldiery as they resound upon the hollow shore,--he + would not deign to notice the restless living element at all + except to bless his stars that he was not upon it. Nor the + distinct details, nor the refined coloring, nor the graceful + outline and roseate golden hue of the jutting crags, nor the + bold shadows cast from Otus or Laurium by the declining + sun;--our agent of a mercantile firm would not value these + matters even at a low figure. Rather, we must turn for the + sympathy we seek to yon pilgrim student, come from a + semi-barbarous land to that small corner of the earth, as to + a shrine, where he might take his fill of gazing on those + emblems and coruscations of invisible unoriginate + perfection. It was the stranger from a remote province, from + Britain or from Mauritania, who in a scene so different from + that of his chilly, woody swamps, or of his fiery, choking + sands, learned at once what a real University must be, by + coming to understand the sort of country which was its + suitable home."[6] + + Enumerative Description. + +Enumerative description has one point of great difference from +suggestive description. In the former everything is told; in the +latter the description is as fortunate in what it omits as in what it +includes. Were an architect to give specifications for the building of +a house, every detail would have to be included; but after all the +pages of careful enumeration the reader would know less of how it +looked than after these few words from Irving. "A large, rickety +wooden building stood in its place, with great gaping windows, some of +them broken and mended with old hats and petticoats, and over the door +was painted 'The Union Hotel, by Jonathan Doolittle.'" So the manual +training student uses five hundred words to describe in detail a box +which would be thrown off with but a few words in a piece of +literature. In enumerative description, one element is of as much +importance as another; no special feature is made primary by the +omission or subdual of other qualities. It has value in giving exact +details of objects, as if for their construction, and in including an +object in a class. + + Suggestive Description. + +Suggestive description, description the aim of which is not +information, but the reproduction of a picture, is the kind most +employed in literature. To present a picture, not all the details +should be given. The mind cannot carry them all, and, much worse, it +cannot arrange them. Nor is there any need for a detailed enumeration. +A room has walls, floor, and ceiling; a man naturally has ears, arms, +and feet. These things may be taken for granted. It is not what is +common to a class that describes; it is what is individual, what takes +one object out of a class. + + Value of Observation. + +This leads to the suggestion that _good description depends largely on +accurate observation._ A selection frequently quoted, but none the +less valuable because often seen, is in point here. It is the last +word on the value of observation. + + "Talent is long patience. It is a question of regarding + whatever one desires to express long enough and with + attention close enough to discover a side which no one has + seen and which has been expressed by nobody. In everything + there is something of the unexplored, because we are + accustomed to use our eyes only with the thought of what has + already been said concerning the thing we see. The smallest + thing has in it a grain of the unknown. Discover it. In + order to describe a fire that flames or a tree in the plain, + we must remain face to face with that fire or that tree + until for us they no longer resemble any other tree or any + other fire. This is the way to become original. + + "Having, moreover, impressed upon me the fact that there are + not in the whole world two grains of sand, two insects, two + hands, or two noses absolutely alike, he forced me to + describe a being or an object in such a manner as to + individualize it clearly, to distinguish it from all other + objects of the same kind. 'When you pass,' he said to me, 'a + grocer seated in his doorway, a concierge smoking his pipe, + a row of cabs, show me this grocer and this concierge, their + attitude, all their physical appearance; suggest by the + skill of your image all their moral nature, so that I shall + not confound them with any other grocer or any other + concierge; make me see, by a single word, wherein a + cab-horse differs from the fifty others that follow or + precede him.'... Whatever may be the thing which one wishes + to say, there is but one word for expressing it; only one + verb to animate it, but one adjective to qualify it. It is + essential to search for this verb, for this adjective, until + they are discovered, and never to be satisfied with anything + else."[7] + + The Point of View. + +With the closest observation, an author gets into his own mind what he +wishes to present to another; but with this essential step taken, he +is only ready to begin the work of communication. For the successful +communication of a picture there are some considerations of value. And +first is _the point of view._ It has much the same relation to +description as the main incident has to narration. In large measure it +determines what to exclude and what to include. When a writer has +assumed his point of view, he must stay there, and tell not a thing +more than he can see from there. It would hardly be possible for a +man, telling only so much as he saw while gazing from Eiffel Tower +into the streets below, to say that the people looked like +Lilliputians and that their hands were dirty. To one lying on the bank +of a stream, it does not look like "a silver thread running through +the landscape." Things do not look the same when they are near as when +at a distance. This fact has been acted upon more by the modern school +of painting than ever before in art. Verboeckhoven painted sheep in a +marvelous way. The drawing is perfect, giving the animal to the life. +Still, no matter how far away the artist was standing, there are the +same marvelously painted tufts of wool, showing almost the individual +fibres. Tufts of wool were on the sheep, and made of fibres; but no +artist at twenty rods could see them. The new school gives only what +actually can be seen. Its first law is that each "shall draw the thing +as he sees it for the God of Things as They Are." Make no additions to +what you can actually see because, as a result of experience, you know +that there are some things not yet mentioned in your description; the +hands may be dirty, but the man on the tower cannot see the dirt. +Neither make an addition simply because it sounds well; the "silver +thread through the landscape" is beautiful, but, unfortunately, it is +not always true. + +Not only does distance cut out details from a picture; the fact that +man sees in a straight line and not around a corner eliminates some +features. In describing a house, remember that as you stand across the +street from it, the back porch cannot be seen, neither can the +shrubbery in the back yard. A writer would not be justified in +speaking of a man's necktie, if the man he was describing were walking +in front of him. In enumerative description the inside of a box may be +told of; a man may be turned around, as it were; but to present a +picture, only one side can be described, just as it would be shown in +a photograph. Any addition to what can actually be known from the +point of view assumed by the author is a fault and a source of +confusion. Choose your point of view; stay there; and tell only what +is seen from that point. + + Moving Point of View. + +It has been said that the point of view should not be changed. This +requires one modification. It may be changed, if the reader is kept +informed of the changes. If a person wished to describe an interior, +he would be unable to see the whole from any one point of view. As he +passed from room to room he should inform his reader of his change of +position. Then the description, though a unit, is a combination of +several descriptions; just as the house is one, though made of +dining-room, sitting-rooms, bedrooms, and attic. This kind of +description is very common in books of travel, in which the author +tells what he sees in passing. The thing to be remembered in writing +this kind of description is to inform the reader where the author is +when he writes the different parts of the description,--to give the +points of view. + + The Point of View should be stated. + +The point of view, whether fixed or moving, should be made clear. +Either it should be definitely stated, or it should be suggested by +some phrase in the description. In the many examples which are quoted +in this chapter, it would be well to see what it is that gives the +point of view. The picture gains in distinctness when the point of +view is known. The following sentences are from "The Old Manse;" there +is no mistake here. The reader knows every move the author makes. It +opens with:-- + + "Between two tall gateposts of rough-hewn stone (the gate + itself having fallen from its hinges at some unknown epoch) + we beheld the gray front of the old parsonage terminating + the vista of an avenue of black ash-trees." + +From the street the reader is taken to "the rear of the house," where +there was "the most delightful little nook of a study that ever +offered its snug seclusion to a scholar." Through its window the +clergyman saw the opening of the "deadly struggle between two +nations." He heard the rattle of musketry, and + + "there needed but a gentle wind to sweep the battle smoke + around this quiet house. Perhaps the reader, whom I cannot + help considering as my guest in the Old Manse and entitled + to all courtesy in the way of sight-showing,--perhaps he + will choose to take a nearer view of the memorable spot. We + stand now on the river's brink."... "Here we are, at the + point where the river was crossed by the old bridge."... + "The Old Manse! We had almost forgotten it, but will return + thither through the orchard."... "What with the river, the + battle-field, the orchard, and the garden, the reader begins + to despair of finding his way back into the Old Manse. But + in agreeable weather it is the truest hospitality to keep + him out-of-doors. I never grew quite acquainted with my + habitation till a long spell of sulky rain had confined me + beneath its roof. There could not be a more sombre aspect of + external nature than as then seen from the windows of my + study." + +And so Hawthorne continues through this long and beautiful description +of "The Old Manse;" every change in the point of view is noted. + + Mental Point of View. + +Closely connected with the physical point of view is the mood or +purpose of the writer; this might be called _the mental point of +view._ Not everything should be told which the author could know from +his position, but only those things which at the time serve his +purpose. In the description already quoted from Newman, the mercantile +gentleman notes a large number of features which are the commercial +advantages of Attica; of these but three are worthy of mention by "yon +pilgrim student" in giving his impression of Athens as "a shrine where +he might take his fill of gazing on those emblems and coruscations of +invisible unoriginate perfection." The others--the soil, the streams, +the climate, the limestone, the fisheries, and the silver mines--do +not serve his purpose. Hawthorne in the long description already +mentioned has retained those features which suggest quiet and peace. +Such a profusion of "quiet," "half asleep," "peaceful," "unruffled," +"unexcitable" words and phrases never "loitered" through forty pages +of "dreamy" and "whispering" description. + +In the following bit from "Lear," where Edgar tells his blinded father +how high the cliff is, only those details are included which measure +distance. + + "How fearful + And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low! + The crows and choughs that wing the midway air + Show scarce so gross as beetles; half way down + Hangs one that gathers samphire,--dreadful trade! + Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: + The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, + Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, + Diminished to her cock; her cock, a buoy + Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge, + That on th' unnumbered idle pebbles chafes, + Cannot be heard so high.--I'll look no more, + Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight + Topple down headlong." + +The following is from Kipling's "The Light that Failed:"-- + + "What do you think of a big, red, dead city built of red + sandstone, with green aloes growing between the stones, + lying out neglected on honey-colored sands? There are forty + dead kings there, Maisie, each in a gorgeous tomb finer than + all the others. You look at the palaces and streets and + shops and tanks, and think that men must live there, till + you find a wee gray squirrel rubbing its nose all alone in + the marketplace, and a jeweled peacock struts out of a + carved doorway and spreads its tail against a marble screen + as fine pierced as point-lace. Then a monkey--a little black + monkey--walks through the main square to get a drink from a + tank forty feet deep. He slides down the creepers to the + water's edge, and a friend holds him by the tail, in case he + should fall in. + + "Is all that true? + + "I have been there and seen. Then evening comes and the + lights change till it's just as though you stood in the + heart of a king-opal. A little before sundown, as punctually + as clockwork, a big bristly wild boar, with all his family + following, trots through the city gate, churning the foam on + his tusks. You climb on the shoulder of a big black stone + god, and watch that pig choose himself a palace for the + night and stump in wagging his tail. Then the night-wind + gets up, and the sands move, and you hear the desert outside + the city singing, 'Now I lay me down to sleep,' and + everything is dark till the moon rises." + +Note how every detail introduced serves to make the city dead. Dead +kings, a wee gray squirrel, a little black monkey, a bristly wild +boar, the night wind, and the desert singing,--these could not be seen +or heard in a live city with street cars; but all serve to emphasize +the fact that here is "a big, red, dead city." + +At the risk of over-emphasizing this point that the purpose of the +author, the mental point of view of the writer, the feeling which the +object gives him and which he wishes to convey to the reader, the +central thought in the description, is primary, and an element that +cannot be overlooked in successful description, I give another +example. This point really cannot be over-emphasized: a writer cannot +be too careful in selecting materials. Careless grouping of +incongruous matters cannot make a picture. Nor does the artistic +author leave the reader in doubt as to the purpose of the description; +its central thought is usually suggested in the first sentence. In the +quotations from Shakespeare and Kipling, the opening sentences are the +germ of what follows. Each detail seems to grow out of this sentence, +and serves to emphasize it. In the following by Stevenson, the +paragraphs spring from the opening sentence; they explain it, they +elaborate it, and they accent it. + + "Night is a dead monotonous period under a roof; but in the + open world it passes lightly, with its stars and dews and + perfumes, and the hours are marked by changes in the face of + Nature. What seems a kind of temporal death to people choked + between walls and curtains is only a light and living + slumber to the man who sleeps afield. All night long he can + hear Nature breathing deeply and freely; even as she takes + her rest she turns and smiles; and there is one stirring + hour unknown to those who dwell in houses, when a wakeful + influence goes abroad over the sleeping hemisphere, and all + the outdoor world are on their feet. It is then that the + first cock crows, not this time to announce the dawn, but + like a cheerful watchman speeding the course of the night. + Cattle awake on the meadows; sheep break their fast on the + dewy hillsides, and change to a new lair among the ferns; + and houseless men, who have lain down with the fowls, open + their dim eyes and behold the beauty of the night. + + "At what inaudible summons, at what gentle touch of Nature, + are all these sleepers thus recalled in the same hour to + life? Do the stars rain down an influence, or do we share + some thrill of mother earth below our resting bodies? Even + shepherds and old country-folk, who are the deepest read in + these arcana, have not a guess as to the means or purpose of + this nightly resurrection. Towards two in the morning they + declare the thing takes place; and neither know nor inquire + further. And at least it is a pleasant incident. We are + disturbed in our slumber only, like the luxurious Montaigne, + 'that we may the better and more sensibly enjoy it.' We have + a moment to look upon the stars. And there is a special + pleasure for some minds in the reflection that we share the + impulse with all outdoor creatures in our neighborhood, that + we have escaped out of the Bastille of civilization, and are + become, for the time being, a more kindly animal and a sheep + of Nature's flock." ("Travels with a Donkey.") + + Length of Descriptions. + +There is one more step in the exclusion of details. This considers +neither the point of view nor the purpose of the writer, but it is +what is due the reader. Stevenson says in one of his essays that a +description which lasts longer than two minutes is never attempted in +conversation. The listener cannot hold the details enumerated. The +clearest statement regarding this comes from Jules Lemaitre in a +criticism upon some descriptions by Emile Zola which the critic says +are praised by persons who have never read them. He says:-- + + "It has been one of the greatest literary blunders of the + time to suppose that an enumeration of parts is a picture, + to think that forever placing details side by side, however + picturesque they may be, is able in the end to make a + picture, to give us any conception of the vast spectacles in + the physical universe. In reality, a written description + arranges its parts in our mind only when the impression of + the first features of which it is formed are remembered + sufficiently, so that we can easily join the first to those + which complete and end it. In short, a piece of description + is ineffective if we cannot hold in mind all its details at + one time. It is necessary that all the details coexist in + our memory just as the parts of a painting coexist under our + eye. This becomes next to impossible if the description of + one definite object last over fifteen minutes of reading. + The longer it is, the more obscure it becomes. The + individual features fade away in proportion to the number + which are presented; and for this reason one might say that + we cannot see the forest for the trees. Every description + which is over fifty lines ceases to be clear to a mind of + ordinary vigor. After that there is only a succession of + fragmentary pictures which fatigues and overwhelms the + reader."[8] + +These, then, are the principles that guide in the choice of materials +for a description. First, the point of view, whether fixed or movable, +should be made clear to the reader; it should be retained throughout +the description, or the change should be announced. By regard for it +the writer will be guided to the exclusion of matters that could not +be observed, and to the inclusion of such details as can be seen and +are essential. Second, the writer will keep out matters that do not +contribute to his purpose, and will select only those details which +assist in producing the desired impression. Third, the limitations of +the reader's powers advise a writer to be brief: five hundred words +should be the outside; two hundred are enough for most writers. These +principles will give to the whole that unity of materials and of +structure which is the first requisite of an effective description. + +The next matter for consideration is the arrangement of the materials. +The arrangement depends on the principles that guided in narration, +Mass and Coherence. + + Arrangement of Details in Description. + +After we have looked at any object long enough to be able to write +about it, one feature comes to assume an importance that sets it far +above all others. To a writer who has looked long at a man, he may +shrink to a cringing piece of weakness, or he may grow to a strong, +self-centred power whose presence alone inspires serenest trust. +Hawthorne, standing in St. Peter's, saw only the gorgeous coloring; +proportions, immensity, and sacredness were as nothing to the +harmonious brilliancy of this expanded "jewel casket."[9] Stevenson, +thinking of the beast of burden best suited to carry his great +sleeping sack, discarded the horse, for, as he says, "she is a fine +lady among animals."[10] The description of a horse which follows this +statement emphasizes the fact that a horse is not intended for +carrying burdens. From the germinal impression of a description, all +the details grow; to this primary impression they all contribute. In +the case of buildings, or other things material, this impression is +generally one of form, sometimes of the height of the object; if +striking, it may be color. The strongest impression of persons is a +quality of character which shows itself either in the face or in the +pose of a man. An example of each may be found in the following +paragraphs from "David Copperfield:"-- + + "At length we stopped before a very old house bulging out + over the road; a house with long, low lattice-windows + bulging out still farther, and beams with carved heads on + the ends bulging out too, so that I fancied the whole house + was leaning forward, trying to see who was passing on the + narrow pavement below. It was quite spotless in its + cleanliness. The old-fashioned brass knocker on the + low-arched door, ornamented with carved garlands of fruits + and flowers, twinkled like a star; the two stone steps + descending to the door were as white as if they had been + covered with fair linen; and all the angles and corners, and + carvings and mouldings, and quaint little panes of glass, + and quainter little windows, though as old as the hills, + were as pure as any snow that ever fell upon the hills. + + "When the pony-chaise stopped at the door, and my eyes were + intent upon the house, I saw a cadaverous face appear at a + small window on the ground floor (in a little round tower + that formed one side of the house), and quickly disappear. + The low arched door then opened, and the face came out. It + was quite as cadaverous as it had looked in the window, + though in the grain of it there was that tinge of red which + is sometimes to be observed in the skins of red-haired + people. It belonged to a red-haired person--a youth of + fifteen, as I take it now, but looking much older whose hair + was cropped as close as the closest stubble; who had hardly + any eyebrows, and no eyelashes, and eyes of a red-brown; so + unsheltered and unshaded that I remember wondering how he + went to sleep. He was high-shouldered and bony; dressed in + decent black, with a white wisp of a neck cloth; buttoned up + to the throat; and had a long, lank, skeleton hand, which + particularly attracted my attention, as he stood at the + pony's head, rubbing his chin with it, and looking up at us + in the chaise." + +Hawthorne thus begins his description of "The House of the Seven +Gables:"-- + + "Maule's Lane, or Pyncheon Street, as it were now more + decorous to call it, was thronged, at the appointed hour, as + with a congregation on its way to church. All, as they + approached, looked upward at the imposing edifice, which was + henceforth to assume its rank among the habitations of + mankind." + +And in the same volume his description of "The Pyncheon of To-day" +begins:-- + + "As the child went down the steps, a gentleman ascended + them, and made his entrance into the shop. It was the + portly, and, had it possessed the advantage of a little more + height, would have been the stately figure of a man, + considerably in the decline of life, dressed in a black suit + of some thin stuff, resembling broadcloth as closely as + possible." + +If the description be long, and the object will lend itself to such a +treatment, a definite, tangible, easily understood shape or form +should be suggested at once. Notice Newman's first sentence describing +Attica: "A confined triangle, perhaps fifty miles its greatest length, +and thirty its greatest breadth." Like this is the beginning of the +description of the battle of Waterloo by Victor Hugo. + + "Those who would get a clear idea of the battle of Waterloo + have only to lay down upon the ground in their mind a + capital letter A. The left stroke of the A is the road to + Nivelles, the right stroke is the road from Genappe, the + cross of the A is the sunken road from Ohain to Braine + l'Alleud. The top of the A is Mont Saint Jean, Wellington is + there; the left-hand lower point is Hougomont, Reille is + there with Jerome Bonaparte; the right-hand lower point is + La Belle Alliance, Napoleon is there. A little below the + point where the cross of the A meets and cuts the right + stroke, is La Haie Sainte. At the middle of this cross is + the precise point where the final battle word was spoken. + There the lion is placed, the involuntary symbol of the + supreme heroism of the Imperial Guard. The triangle + contained at the top of the A, between the two strokes and + the cross, is the plateau of Mont Saint Jean. The struggle + for this plateau was the whole of the battle."[11] + +In "The Vision of Sir Launfal" Lowell opens his beautiful description +with the words, "And what is so rare as a day in June?" From this +general and comprehensive sentence follow all the details which make a +June day perfect. + +Hawthorne, after telling how he happened to write of him, begins his +long description of "The Old Apple Dealer" with the following +paragraph:-- + + "He is a small man, with gray hair and gray stubble beard, + and is invariably clad in a shabby surtout of snuff color, + closely buttoned, and half concealing a pair of gray + pantaloons; the whole dress, though clean and entire, being + evidently flimsy with much wear. His face, thin, withered, + furrowed, and with features which even age has failed to + render impressive, has a frost-bitten aspect. It is a moral + frost which no physical warmth or comfortableness could + counteract. The summer sunshine may fling its white heat + upon him, or the good fire of the depot room may make him + the focus of its blaze on a winter's day; but all in vain; + for still the old man looks as if he were in a frosty + atmosphere, with scarcely warmth enough to keep life in the + region about his heart. It is a patient, long-suffering, + quiet, hopeless, shivering aspect. He is not + desperate,--that, though its etymology implies no more, + would be too positive an expression,--but merely devoid of + hope. As all his past life, probably, offers no spots of + brightness to his memory, so he takes his present poverty + and discomfort as entirely a matter of course; he thinks it + the definition of existence, so far as himself is concerned, + to be poor, cold, and uncomfortable. It may be added, that + time has not thrown dignity as a mantle over the old man's + figure: there is nothing venerable about him: you pity him + without a scruple." + +So this old apple dealer shivers all through this description of nine +pages to the last sentences:-- + + "God be praised, were it only for your sake, that the + present shapes of human existence are not cast in iron nor + hewn in everlasting adamant, but moulded of the vapors that + vanish away while the essence flits upward to the Infinite. + There is a spiritual essence in this gray and lean old shape + that shall flit upward too. Yes; doubtless there is a region + where the lifelong shiver will pass away from his being, and + that quiet sigh, which it has taken him so many years to + breathe, will be brought to a close for good and all." + +The prominent characteristic may be the feeling aroused by the object. +It may be horror, as in a description of a haunted house or a +murderer; it may be love, as in the picture of an old home or a +sainted mother. The emotion occasioned is often mentioned or suggested +at once, and the details are afterward given which have called forth +the feeling. Poe uses this in the first paragraph of "The House of +Usher." + + "During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the + autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in + the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through + a singularly dreary tract of country, and at length found + myself, as the shades of evening drew on, within view of the + melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was--but, with + the first glimpse of the building, _a sense of insufferable + gloom pervaded my spirit._ I say insufferable; for the + feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, + because poetic, sentiment with which the mind usually + receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or + terrible. I looked upon the scene before me--upon the mere + house, and the simple landscape features of the domain--upon + the bleak walls--upon the vacant, eye-like windows--upon a + few rank sedges--and upon a few white trunks of decayed + trees--with an utter depression of soul which I can compare + to no earthly sensation more properly than to the + after-dream of a reveler upon opium--the bitter lapse into + every-day life--the hideous dropping off of the veil. There + was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart--an + unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the + imagination could torture into aught of the sublime.... It + was, possible, I reflected, that a mere different + arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details + of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to + annihilate, its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, + acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous + brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in unruffled lustre + by the dwelling, and gazed down--but with a shudder even + more thrilling than before--upon the remodeled and inverted + images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree-stems, and + the vacant and eye-like windows." + +And one may see from looking back at the illustrations given that the +dominant impression which gives the character to the whole +description, this leading quality which is the essence of the whole, +usually stands at the very beginning, and to it all the succeeding +details cling. + + The End of a Description. + +The end of a description is equally as important as the opening. In +most descriptions, whether short or long, the most important detail, +the detail that emphasizes most the general feeling of the whole, +stands at the end. If the description be short, the necessity of a +comprehensive opening statement is not imperative,--indeed, it may be +made so formal and ostentatious when compared with the rest of the +description as to be ridiculous; yet even in the short description +some important detail should close it. In a long description the +repetition of the opening statement in a new form sometimes stands at +the end. If the description be of movement or change, the end will be +the climax of the movement, the result of the change. + +In the examples already given there are illustrations of the methods +of closing. In each case, there is an important detail or an artistic +repetition of the general impression. Many examples of short +characterization can be found in all narratives. In Irving's +description of Ichabod Crane, the next to the last sentence gives the +significant detail, and the last gives another general impression. It +reads:-- + + "The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. + He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, + long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his + sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his + whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, + and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, + and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock + perched upon his spindle neck to tell which way the wind + blew." ("The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.") + +So far this is but an amplification of his likeness to a crane; +certainly "a long snipe nose" "upon his spindle neck" is the most +important detail. Next the author gives another general impression:-- + + "To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy + day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him, one + might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending + upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield." + +The following is from "The House of Usher:"-- + + "Shaking off from my spirit what _must_ have been a dream, I + scanned more narrowly the real aspect of the building. Its + principal feature seemed to be that of an excessive + antiquity. The discoloration of ages had been great. Minute + fungi overspread the whole exterior, hanging in a fine + tangled web-work from the eaves. Yet all this was apart from + any extraordinary dilapidation. No portion of the masonry + had fallen, and there appeared to be a wild inconsistency + between its still perfect adaptation of parts and the + crumbling condition of the individual stones. In this there + was much that reminded me of the specious totality of old + woodwork which has rotted for long years in some neglected + vault with no disturbance from the breath of the external + air. Beyond this indication of extensive decay, however, the + fabric gave little token of instability. Perhaps the eye of + a scrutinizing observer might have discovered a barely + perceptible fissure, which, extending from the roof of the + building in front, made its way down the wall in a zigzag + direction, until it became lost in the sullen waters of the + tarn." + +In this every detail emphasizes the "excessive antiquity" of the +house; and on reading the story there is no question of the importance +of the "barely perceptible fissure." Thereby hangs the tale. + +The two following are descriptions of dawn, of change; they have +marked climaxes. The first is by Edward Everett, the second by +Stevenson. The similarity in choice of words and in the feelings of +the men is remarkable. + + "Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. As + we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more + perceptible; the intense blue of the sky began to soften; + the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest; + the sister-beams of the Pleiades soon melted together; but + the bright constellations of the west and north remained + unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. + Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the + scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into + the glories of dawn. The blue sky now turned more softly + gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes; the + east began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed + along the sky; the whole celestial concave was filled with + the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pouring + down from above in one great ocean of radiance, till at + length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flash of purple + blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy + teardrops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a + few seconds, the everlasting gates of morning were thrown + wide open, and the lord of day, arrayed in glories too + severe for the gaze of man, began his state." ("The Uses of + Astronomy.") + + + "At last she began to be aware of a wonderful revolution, + compared to which the fire of Mittwalden Palace was but a + crack and flash of a percussion cap. The countenance with + which the pines regarded her began insensibly to change; the + grass, too, short as it was, and the whole winding staircase + of the brook's course, began to wear a solemn freshness of + appearance. And this slow transfiguration reached her heart, + and played upon it, and transpierced it with a serious + thrill. She looked all about; the whole face of nature + looked back, brimful of meaning, finger on lip, leaking its + glad secret. She looked up. Heaven was almost emptied of + stars. Such as still lingered shone with a changed and + waning brightness, and began to faint in their stations. And + the color of the sky itself was most wonderful; for the rich + blue of the night had now melted and softened and + brightened; and there had succeeded a hue that has no name, + and that is never seen but as the herald of the morning. + 'Oh!' she cried, joy catching at her voice, 'Oh! it is the + dawn!' + + "In a breath she passed over the brook, and looped up her + skirts and fairly ran in the dim alleys. As she ran, her + ears were aware of many pipings, more beautiful than music; + in the small, dish-shaped houses in the fork of giant arms, + where they had lain all night, lover by lover, warmly + pressed, the bright-eyed, big-hearted singers began to + awaken for the day. Her heart melted and flowed forth to + them in kindness. And they, from their small and high + perches in the clerestories of the wood cathedral, peered + down sidelong at the ragged Princess as she flitted below + them on the carpet of the moss and tassel. + + "Soon she had struggled to a certain hilltop, and saw far + before her the silent inflooding of the day. Out of the East + it welled and whitened; the darkness trembled into light; + and the stars were extinguished like the street-lamps of a + human city. The whiteness brightened into silver; the silver + warmed into gold, and the gold kindled into pure and living + fire; and the face of the East was barred with elemental + scarlet. The day drew its first long breath, steady and + chill; and for leagues around the woods sighed and shivered. + And then, at one bound the sun had floated up; and her + startled eyes received day's first arrow, and quailed under + the buffet. On every side, the shadows leaped from their + ambush and fell prone. The day was come, plain and garish; + and up the steep and solitary eastern heaven, the sun, + victorious over his competitors, continued slowly and + royally to mount." ("Prince Otto.") + + Proportion. + +One thing further should be said regarding Mass. Not everything can +stand first or last; some important details must be placed in the +midst of a description. These particulars will not be of equal +importance. The more important details may be given their +proportionate emphasis by relatively increasing the length of their +treatment. If one detail is more important than another, it requires +more to be said about it; unimportant matters should be passed over +with a word. Proportion in the length of treatment is a guide to the +relative importance of the matters introduced into a description. + +In the description of "The House of Usher," position emphasizes the +barely perceptible fissure. Proportion singles out the crumbling +condition of the individual stones and makes this detail more emphatic +than either the discoloration or the fungi. And in Newman's +description, the olive-tree, the brilliant atmosphere, the thyme, the +bees, all add to the charms of bright and beautiful Athens; but most +of all the Aegean, with its chain of islands, its dark violet billows, +its jets of silver, the heaving and panting of its long waves,--the +restless living element fascinates and enraptures "yon pilgrim +student." Position and proportion are the means of emphasis in a +paragraph of description. + + Arrangement must be natural. + +Having settled the massing of the description, the next matter for +consideration is the arrangement. In order that the parts of a +description may be coherent, hold together, they should be arranged in +the order in which they would naturally be perceived. What strikes the +eye of the beholder as most important, often the general +characteristic of the whole, should be mentioned first; and the +details should follow as they are seen. In a building, the usual way +of observing and describing is from foundation to turret stone. A +landscape may be described by beginning with what is near and +extending the view; this is common. Sometimes the very opposite plan +is pursued; or one may begin on either hand and advance toward the +other. Of a person near by, the face is the first thing observed; for +it is there that his character can be best discovered. Afterward +details of clothing follow as they would naturally be noticed. If a +person be at a distance his pose and carriage would be about all that +could be seen; as he approaches, the other details would be mentioned +as they came into view. To arrange details in the order in which they +are naturally observed will result in an association in the +description of the details that are contiguous in the objects. Jumping +about in a description is a source of confusion. How entirely it may +ruin a paragraph can be estimated by the effect upon this single +sentence, "He was tall, with feet that might have served for shovels, +narrow shoulders, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, long +arms and legs, and his whole frame most loosely hung together." This +rearrangement makes but a disjointed and feeble impression; and the +reason is entirely that an order in which no person ever observed a +man has been substituted for the commonest order,--from head to foot. +Arrange details so that the parts which are contiguous shall be +associated in the description, and proceed in the order in which the +details are naturally observed. + +The following is by Irving; he is describing the stage-coachman:-- + + "He has commonly a broad, full face, curiously mottled with + red, as if the blood had been forced by hard feeding into + every vessel of the skin; he is swelled into jolly + dimensions by frequent potations of malt liquors, and his + bulk is still further increased by a multiplicity of coats, + in which he is buried like a cauliflower, the upper one + reaching to his heels. He wears a broad-brimmed, low-crowned + hat; a huge roll of colored handkerchief about his neck, + knowingly knotted and tucked in at the bosom; and has in + summer time a large bouquet of flowers in his buttonhole, + the present, most probably, of some enamored country lass. + His waistcoat is commonly of some bright color, striped, and + his small-clothes extend far below the knees, to meet a pair + of jockey boots which reach about half way up his legs."[12] + + Use Familiar Images. + +When the materials have been selected and arranged, the hardest part +of the work has been done. It now remains to express in language the +picture. A few suggestions regarding the kind of language will be +helpful. The writer must always bear in mind the fact that in +constructing a mental picture each reader does it from the images he +already possesses. "Quaint arabesques" is without meaning to many +persons; and until the word has been looked up in the dictionary, and +the picture seen there, the beautiful line of "Sir Launfal" suggests +no image whatever. So when Stevenson speaks of the birds in the +"clerestories of the wood cathedral," the image is not distinct in the +mind of a young American. Supposing a pupil in California were asked +to describe an orange to an Esquimau. He might say that it is a +spheroid about the size of an apple, and the color of one of +Lorraine's sunsets. This would be absolutely worthless to a child of +the frigid zone. Had he been told that an orange was about the size of +a snowball, much the color of the flame of a candle, that the peeling +came off like the skin from a seal, and that the inside was good to +eat, he would have known more of this fruit. The images which lie in +our minds and from which we construct new pictures are much like the +blocks that a child-builder rearranges in many different forms; but +the blocks do not change. From them he may build a castle or a mill; +yet the only difference is a difference in arrangement. So it is with +the pictures we build up in imagination: our castle in Spain we have +never seen, but the individual elements which we associate to lift up +this happy dwelling-place are the things we know and have seen. A +reader creates nothing new; all he does is to rearrange in his own +mind the images already familiar. Only so may he pass from the known +to the unknown. + +The fact that we construct pictures of what we read from those images +already in our minds warns the writer against using materials which +those for whom he writes could not understand. It compels him to +select definite images, and it urges him to use the common and the +concrete. It frequently drives him to use comparisons. + + Use of Comparisons. + +To represent the extremely bare and unornamented appearance of a +building, one might write, "It looked like a great barn," or "It was a +great barn." In either case the image would be definite, common, and +concrete. In both cases there is a comparison. In the first, where the +comparison is expressed, there is a _simile;_ in the second, where the +comparison is only implied, there is a _metaphor._ These two figures +of speech are very common in description, and it is because they are +of great value. One other is sometimes used,--_personification,_ which +ascribes to inanimate things the attributes of life which are the +property of animate nature. What could be happier than this by +Stevenson: "All night long he can hear Nature breathing deeply and +freely; even as she takes her rest she turns and smiles"? or this, "A +faint sound, more like a moving coolness than a stream of air"? And at +the end of the chapter which describes his "night under the pines," he +speaks of the "tapestries" and "the inimitable ceiling" and "the view +which I command from the windows." In this one chapter are +personification, simile, metaphor,--all comparisons, and doing what +could hardly be done without them. Common, distinct, concrete images +are surest. + + Choice of Words. Adjectives and Nouns. + +To body forth these common, distinct, concrete images calls for a +discriminating choice of words; for in the choice of words lies a +large part of the vividness of description. If the thing described be +unknown to the reader, it requires the right word to place it before +him; if it be common, still must the right word be found to set it +apart from the thousand other objects of the same class. The words +that may justly be called describing words are adjectives and nouns; +and of these the adjective is the first descriptive word. The rule +that a writer should never use two adjectives where one will do, and +that he should not use one if a noun can be found that completely +expresses the thought, is a good one to follow. One certain stroke of +the crayon is worth a hundred lines, each approaching the right one. +One word, the only one, will tell the truth more vividly than ten that +approach its expression. For it must be remembered that a description +must be done quickly; every word that is used and does nothing is not +only a waste of time, but is actually in the way. In a description +every word must count. It may be a comparison, an epithet, +personification, or what not, but whatever method is adopted, the +right word must do it quickly. + +How much depends on the nice choice of words may be seen by a study of +the selections already quoted; and especially by a careful reading of +those by Stevenson and Everett. To show the use of adjectives and +nouns in description, the following from Kipling is a good +illustration. Toomai had just reached the elephants' "ball-room" when +he saw-- + + "white-tusked wild males, with fallen leaves and nuts and + twigs lying in the wrinkles of their necks and the folds of + their ears; fat, slow-footed she-elephants, with restless + pinky-black calves only three or four feet high, running + under their stomachs; young elephants with their tusks just + beginning to show, and very proud of them; lanky, scraggy, + old-maid elephants, with their hollow, anxious faces, and + trunks like rough bark; savage old bull-elephants, scarred + from shoulder to flank with great weals and cuts of by-gone + fights, and the caked dirt of their solitary mud bath + dropping from their shoulders; and there was one with a + broken tusk and the marks of the full-stroke, the terrible + drawing scrape of a tiger's claw on his side."[13] + +One third of the words in this paragraph are descriptive nouns and +adjectives, none of which the reader wishes to change. + + Use of Verbs. + +Verbs also have a great value in description. In the paragraph +picturing the dawn, Stevenson has not neglected the verbs. "Welled," +"whitened," "trembled," "brightened," "warmed," "kindled," and so on +through the paragraph. Try to change them, and it is apparent that +something is lost by any substitution. Kaa, the python, "_pours_ +himself along the ground." If he is angry, "Baloo and Bagheera could +see the big swallowing-muscles on either side of Kaa's throat _ripple_ +and _bulge._" + +Yet in the choice of words, one may search for the bizarre and unusual +rather than for the truly picturesque. Stevenson at times seems to +have lapsed. When he says that Modestine would feel a switch "more +_tenderly_ than my cane;" that he "must _instantly_ maltreat this +uncomplaining animal," meaning constantly; and at another place that +he "had to labor so _consistently_ with" his stick that the sweat ran +into his eyes, there is a suspicion of a desire for the sensational +rather than the direct truth. On the other hand, the beginner finds +himself using words that have lost, their meaning through +indiscriminate usage. "Awful good," "awful pretty," and "awful sweet" +mean something less than good, pretty, and sweet. "Lovely," "dear," +"splendid," "unique," and a large number of good words have been much +dulled by the ignorant use of babblers. Superlatives and all words +denoting comparison should be used with stinginess. One cannot afford +to part with this kind of coin frequently; the cheaper coins should be +used, else he will find an empty purse when need arises. Thackeray has +this: "Her voice was the sweetest, low song." How much better this, +Her voice was a sweet, low song. All the world is shut out from this, +while in the former he challenges the world by the comparison. +Shakespeare was wiser when he made Lear say,-- + + "Her voice was ever soft, + Gentle, and low,--an excellent thing in woman." + +Avoid words which have lost their meaning by indiscriminate use; shun +the sensational and the bizarre; use superlatives with economy; but in +all you do, whether in unadorned or figurative language, choose the +word that is quick and sure and vivid--the one word that exactly +suggests the picture. + + + SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES + + + QUESTIONS. + + THE OLD MANSE. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 69.) + +Are there narrative portions in "The Old Manse"? paragraphs of +exposition? + +Do you term the whole narration, description, or exposition? Why? + +Frame a sentence which you think would be an adequate topic sentence +for the whole piece. + +What phrase in the first paragraph allows the author to begin the +second with the words, "Nor, in truth, had the Old Manse," etc.? Where +in the second paragraph is found the words which are the source of "my +design," mentioned in the third? How does the author pass from the +fourth paragraph to the fifth? In the same way note the connections +between the succeeding paragraphs. They are most skillfully dovetailed +together. Now make a list of the phrases in the first fifteen pages +which introduce paragraphs, telling from what in the preceding +paragraph each new paragraph springs. Do you think that such a +felicitous result just happened? or did Hawthorne plan it? + +Does Hawthorne generally introduce his descriptions by giving the +feeling aroused by the object described, a method very common with +Poe? + +In the paragraph beginning at the bottom of p. 18, what do you think +of the selection of material? What have guided in the inclusion and +exclusion of details? + +Write a paragraph upon this topic: There could not be a more joyous +aspect of external nature than as seen from the windows of my study +just after the passing of a cooling shower. Be careful to select +things that have been made happy, and to use adjectives and nouns that +are full of joy. + +Make a list of the words used to describe "The Old Apple Dealer." + +Has this description Unity? + +What relation to the whole has the first sentence of paragraph three? +the last? + +Do you think there is a grammatical error in the third sentence of +this paragraph? + +By contrasts to what has Hawthorne brought out better the character of +the Apple Dealer? When can contrasts help? + + + AN INDIAN-SUMMER REVERIE, AND OTHER POEMS. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 30.) + +In this poem what purpose is served by the first two stanzas? + +Where in the landscape does the author begin? Which way does he +progress? + +Quote stanzas in which other senses than sight are called upon. + +Make a list of the figures of speech. How many similes? metaphors? +examples of personification? Which seems most effective? Which +instance of its use do you prefer? Has Lowell used too many figures? + +Read "The Oak," "The Dandelion," and "Al Fresco." + +Are they description or exposition? Do they bear out Lowell's estimate +of himself? + + + THE SKETCH-BOOK. + (Riverside Literature Series, Nos. 51, 52.) + +Why has Irving given four pages to the description of Sleepy Hollow +before he introduces Ichabod Crane? + +Why, then, seven pages to Ichabod before the story begins? + +What gives the peculiar interest to this tale? + +In the "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" how many paragraphs of description +close with an important detail? + +In how many with a general characterization? + +In all the descriptions of buildings by Irving that you have read, +what are the first things mentioned,--size, shape, color, or what? +Make a list, so as to be sure. + +Does Irving use many comparisons? Are the likenesses to common things? +Select the ten you think best. Are there more in narrative or +descriptive passages? What do you gather from this fact? + +In "Christmas Day," on p. 51 (R. L. S., No. 52), does Irving proceed +from far to near in the landscape? Is this common? Find another +example. + +How has Irving emphasized the littleness of the minister described on +p. 56 (R. L. S., No. 52)? + + + THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 119.) + +Is the arrangement of the details in the last two lines of the first +paragraph stronger than the arrangement of the same details on p. 63? +Why, or why not? + +In the description of the hall, pp. 67 and 68, do the details produce +the effect upon you which they did upon Poe? + +Find a description in this piece which closes with an important +detail. + +Is Usher described at all when Poe says, "I gazed upon him with a +feeling half of pity, half of awe"? Do the details enumerated arouse +such feelings in you? Would the feeling have been called forth if it +had not been suggested by Poe? Is there, then, any advantage in this +method of opening a description? + +What good was done by describing Usher as Poe knew him in youth? + +Why is the parenthetical clause on p. 72 necessary? + +On p. 80, should Poe write "previously to its final interment"? + +What do you think of the length of the sentence quoted on p. 85? + +Does Poe use description to accent the mood of the narrative, or to +make concrete the places and persons? + +Why is "The Haunted Palace" introduced into the story? + +Is this story as good as "The Gold-Bug"? + + + SILAS MARNER. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 83.) + +Why is not the early history of Silas Marner related first in the +story? + +By what steps has the author approached the definite time? + +From the fragments about his appearance, do you get a clear idea of +how Marner looks? + +Do you approve this method of scattering the description along through +the story? Write a description of Marner on the night he was going to +the tavern. + +Could not the quarrel between Godfrey and Dunsey been omitted? + +Describe the interior of Marner's cottage. + +Why should Sally Oates and her dropsy be admitted to the story? + +Do you know as well how George Eliot's characters look as how they +think and feel? + +What do you think of the last sentence of Chapter IV.? Why does not +Chapter V. go on with Dunsey's story? Why is Chapter VI. introduced at +all? What of its close? + +What figure in the last sentence of Chapter X.? + +Would you prefer to know how tall Eppie was, what kind of clothes she +wore, etc., to the knowledge you gain of her on p. 178? + +Suppose that Dunsey came home the night he staked Wildfire, recite the +conversation between him and Godfrey. + +Have Dolly Winthrop, Priscilla Lammeter, and Mr. Macey talk over "The +New Minister." + +Write on "What I see in George Eliot's Face." + + + THE DESERTED VILLAGE. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 68.) + +Is this piece description or exposition? + +In the first stanza where is the topic sentence? + +The author has made two groups of charms. Would it be as well to +change them about? Give your reasons. + +Where has he used the ear instead of the eye to suggest his picture? +Is it clear? + +What method is adopted in lines 125-128? See also lines 237-250. + +Can you unite the paragraphs on p. 25? Why do you think so? + +Could you suggest a new arrangement of details in lines 341-362 that +would be as good as the present? What are the last four lines for? + + + EXERCISES. + +Enumerative Description may well employ a few lessons. In it accuracy +of detail must be studied, and every detail must be introduced. + +1. The Teacher's Desk. + +2. Write a letter to a carpenter giving details for the construction +of a small bookcase. + +3. By telling how you made it, describe a camp, a kite, a dress, or a +cake. Narration may be employed for the purpose of description. A good +example may be found in "Robinson Crusoe" in the chapter describing +his home after the shipwreck. + +4. Describe an unfurnished room. Shape, size, position, and number of +windows, the fireplace, etc., should be definite. Be sure to give the +point of view. To say "On my right hand," "In front of me," or any +similar phrases means nothing unless the reader knows where you are. + +In these exercises the pupil will doubtless employ the paragraph of +particulars. This is the most common in description. Other forms are +valuable. + +5. Using a paragraph telling what it was not, finish this: I followed +the great singer to her home. Imagine my surprise in finding that the +house in which this lady lived was not a home of luxury and +splendor,--not even a home of comfort. Go on with the details of a +home of luxury which were _not_ there. Finish with what you did see. +This is really a description of two houses set in artistic contrast to +heighten the effect. Remember you are outside. + +6. By the use of comparison finish this: The home of my poor little +friend was but little better than a barn. Choose only such details as +emphasize the barn-like appearance of the home. There is but one room. +Remember where you are standing; and keep in mind the effect you wish +to produce. + +7. Using a moving point of view, describe an interior. Do not have too +many rooms. + +8. Furnish the room described in number four to suit your taste. Tell +how it looks. Remember that a few things give character to a room. + +9. Describe your childhood's home as it would look to you after years +of absence. + +10. Using a paragraph of the obverse, describe the appearance of the +house from which you were driven by the cruelty of a drunken father. + +11. Describe a single tree standing alone in a field. It will be well +for the teacher to read to the class some descriptions of +trees,--Lowell's "Birch" and "Oak," "Under the Willows," and some +stanzas from "An Indian Summer Reverie." Holmes has some good +paragraphs on trees in "The Autocrat." Any good tree descriptions will +help pupils to do it better than they can without suggestion. They +should describe their own tree, however. + +12. Describe some single flower growing wild. Read Lowell's +"Dandelion," "Violet, Sweet Violet," Wordsworth's "Daisy," "The +Daffodils," "The Small Celandine," and Burns's "Daisy." These do not +so much describe as they arouse a feeling of love for the flowers +which will show itself in the composition. + +13. Describe a view of a lake. If possible, have your point of view +above the lake and use the paragraph of comparison. + +14. Describe a landscape from a single point of view. Read Curtis's +"My Castles in Spain" from "Prue and I," many descriptions in "An +Inland Voyage" by Stevenson, and "Bay Street" by Bliss Carman in "The +Atlantic Monthly." + +15. Describe your first view of a small cluster of houses or a small +town. + +16. Approach the town, describing its principal features. Keep the +reader informed as to where you are. + +17. Describe a dog of your own. + +18. Describe a dog of your neighbor's. Before the description is +undertaken read "Our Dogs" and "Rab" by Dr. Brown; "A Dog of Flanders" +by Ouida. Scott has some noble fellows in his novels. + +19. Describe a flock of chickens. There are good descriptions of +chickens in "The House of the Seven Gables" and in "Sketches" by +Dickens. + +20. Describe the burning of your own home. Be careful not to narrate. + +21. Describe a stranger you met on the street to-day. It is easier to +describe a person if you and the person you describe move toward each +other. Remember that you begin the description at a distance. Details +should be mentioned as they actually come into view. + +22. Describe your father in his favorite corner at home. + +23. Describe a person you do not like, by telling what he is not. + +24. Describe a person you admire, but are not acquainted with, using +the paragraph of comparisons. + +25. Describe a picture. + +It would be well to have at the end of this year four or five stories +written, in which description plays a part. Its principal use is to +give the setting to the story, to give concreteness to the characters, +and to accent the mood of the story. + +Most passages of description are short. Rarely will any pupil write +over three hundred words. One hundred are often better. The short +composition gives an opportunity for the study of accuracy of +expression. What details to include; in what order to arrange them +that they produce the best effect, both of vividness and naturalness; +and the influence of the point of view and the purpose of the author +on the unity of description should be kept constantly present in the +exercises. Careful attention should be paid to choice of words, for on +right words depends in a large degree the vividness of a description. +Right words in well-massed paragraphs of vivid description should be +the object this term. + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER V + + EXPOSITION + + +So far we have studied discourse which deals with things,--things +active, doing something, considered under the head of narration; and +things at rest, and pictured, considered in description. Now we come +to exposition, which deals with ideas either separately or in +combinations. Instead of Mr. Smith's horse, exposition treats of the +general term, horse. "The Great Stone Face" may have taught a lesson +by its story, but the discussion of the value of lofty ideals is a +subject for exposition. + + General Terms Difficult. + +That general terms and propositions are harder to get hold of than +concrete facts is readily apparent in the first reading of an author +like Emerson. To a young person it means little. Yet when he puts in +the place of the general terms some specific examples, and so verifies +the statements, the general propositions have a mine of meaning, and +"the sense of the author is as broad as the world." This stanza from +Lowell is but little suggestive to young readers:-- + + "Such earnest natures are the fiery pith, + The compact nucleus, round which systems grow! + Mass after mass becomes inspired therewith, + And whirls impregnate with the central glow."[14] + +Yet when Columbus and Luther and Garrison are mentioned as +illustrations of the meaning, it becomes world-wide in its +application. Still in order to get at the thought, there is first the +need of the specific and the concrete; afterward we pass to the +general and the abstract. + +As abstract ideas are harder to get hold of than concrete facts, so +exposition has difficulties greater than those found in narration and +description. It is not so hard to tell what belongs in a story; the +events are all distinct. Nor is it so difficult to know what to +include in a description; one can look and see. In exposition this is +not so. In most minds ideas do not have distinct limits; the edges +rather are indistinct. It is hard to tell where the idea stops. In +writing of "The Uses of Coal," it is easy to wander over an indistinct +boundary and to take a survey of "The Origin of Coal." Not only may +one include what unquestionably should be excluded, but there is no +definite guide to the arrangement of the materials, such as was found +in narration. There a sequence of time was an almost infallible rule; +here the writer must search carefully how to arrange hazy ideas in +some effective form. As discourse comes to deal more with general +ideas, the difficulties of writing increase; and the difficulties are +not due to any new principles of structure which must be introduced. +When one says that the material should be selected according to the +familiar law of Unity, he has given the guiding principle. Yet the +real difficulty is still before an author: it is to decide what stamp +to put upon such elusive matter as ideas. They cannot be kept long +enough in the twilight of consciousness to analyze them; and often +ideas that have been marked "accepted" have, upon reexamination, to be +"rejected." To examine ideas--the material used in this form of +discourse--so thoroughly that they may be accurately, definitely known +in their backward relation and their bearing upon what follows, this +is the seat of the difficulty in exposition. + +Exposition may conveniently be classified into exposition of a term, +or definition; and exposition of a proposition, which is generally +suggested by the term exposition. + + Definition. + +Definition of a word means giving its limits or boundaries. Of man it +might be said that it is a living animal, having a strong bony +skeleton; that this skeleton consists of a trunk from which extend +four limbs, called arms and legs, and is surmounted by a bony cavity, +called a skull; that the skeleton protects the vital organs, and is +itself covered by a muscular tissue which moves the bones and gives a +rounded beauty to their ugliness; that man has a highly developed +nervous system, the centre of which is the brain placed in the skull. +So a person might go on for pages, enumerating the attributes which, +taken together, make up the general idea of man. + + Exposition and Description distinguished. + +This sort of exposition is very near description; indeed, were the +purpose different, it would be description. The purpose, however, is +not to tell how an individual looks, but to place the object in a +class. It is therefore not description, but exposition. Moreover, the +method is different. In description those characteristics are given +that distinguish the object from the rest of the class; while in +exposition those qualities are selected which are common to all +objects of its class. + + Logical Definition. + +On account of the length of the definition by an enumeration of all +the attributes, it is not frequently used except in long treatises. +For it there has been substituted what is called a _logical +definition._ Instead of naming all the characteristics of an object, a +logical definition groups many attributes under one general term, and +then adds a quality which distinguishes the object from the others of +the general class. Man has been defined as the "reasoning animal." In +this definition a large number of attributes have been gathered +together in the general term "animal;" then man is separated from the +whole class "animal" by the word "reasoning." A logical definition +consists, then, of two parts: the general term naming the genus, and +the limiting term naming the distinguishing attribute called the +differentia. + + Genus and Differentia. + +Genus and differentia are found in every good definition. The _genus_ +should be a term more general than the term defined. "Man is a person +who reasons" is a poor definition; because "person" is no more general +than "man." "A canine is a dog that is wild" is very bad, because +"dog," the general term in the definition, is less general than the +word defined. However, to say that "a dog is a canine that has been +domesticated," is a definition in which the genus is more general than +the term defined. + +Next, the genus should be a term well understood. "Man is a mammal who +reasons" is all right, in having a genus more general than the term +defined, but the definition fails with many because "mammal" is not +well understood. "Botany is that branch of biology which treats of +plant life" has in it the same error. "Biology" is not so well +understood as "botany," though it is a more general term. In cases of +this sort, the writer should go farther toward the more general until +he finds a term perfectly clear to all. "Man is an animal that +reasons," "botany is the branch of science that treats of plant life," +would both be easily understood. The genus should be a term better +understood than the term defined; and it should be a term more general +than the term defined. + +A definition may be faulty in its _differentia_ also. The differentia +is that part of a definition which names the difference between the +term defined and the general class to which it belongs. "Man is a +reasoning animal." "Animal" names the general class, and "reasoning" +is the differentia which separates "man" from other "animals." On the +selection of this limiting word depends the accuracy of the +definition. "Man is an animal that walks," or "that has hands," or +"that talks," are all faulty; because bears walk, monkeys have hands, +and parrots talk. Supposing the following definitions were given: "A +cat is an animal that catches rats and mice;" "A rose is a flower that +bears thorns;" "Gold is a metal that is heavy;" all would be faulty +because the differentia in each is faulty. Notice, too, the +definitions of "dog" and "canine" already given. Even "man is a +reasoning animal" may fail; since many men declare that other animals +reason. The differentia should include all the members that the term +denotes, and it should exclude all that it does not denote. + + Requisites of a good Definition. + +The requisites of a good definition are: first, that it shall include +or denote all the members of the class; second, that it shall exclude +everything which does not belong to its class; third, that the words +used in the definition shall be better understood than the word +defined; fourth, that it shall be brief. + +A definition may perfectly expound a term; and because of the very +qualities that make it a good definition, accuracy and brevity, it may +be almost valueless to the ordinary reader. For instance, this +definition, "An acid is a substance, usually sour and sharp to the +taste, that changes vegetable blue colors to red, and, combining with +an earth, an alkali, or a metallic oxide, forms a salt," would not +generally be understood. So it frequently becomes necessary to do more +than give a definition in order to explain the meaning of a term. This +brings us to the study of exposition, as it is generally understood, +in which all the resources of language are called into service to +explain a term or a proposition. + + How do Men explain? First, by Repetition. + +What, then, are the methods of explaining a proposition? First, _a +proposition may be explained by the repetition of the thought in some +other form._ To be effective, repetition must add something to what +has been said; the words used may be more specific or they may be more +general. For example, "A strong partisan may not be a good citizen. +The stanchest Republican may by reason of a blind adherence to party +be working an injury to the country he loves. Indeed, one can easily +conceive a body of men so devoted to a theory, beautiful though it may +be in many respects, that they stand in the way of the world's +progress." The second sentence repeats the thought of the first in +more specific terms; the third repeats it in more general terms. The +specific may be explained by the general; more often the general is +cleared up by the specific. In either case, the proposition must be +brought one step nearer to the reader by the restatement, or the +repetition is not good. + +Speaking of written or printed words, Barrett Wendell writes:-- + + "In themselves, these black marks are nothing but black + marks more or less regular in appearance. Modern English + type and script are rather simple to the eye. Old English + and German are less so; less so still, Hebrew and Chinese. + But all alphabets present to the eye pretty obvious traces + of regularity; in a written or printed page the same mark + will occur over and over again. This is positively all we + see,--a number of marks grouped together and occasionally + repeated. A glance at a mummy-case, an old-fashioned + tea-chest, a Hebrew Bible, will show us all that any eye can + ever see in a written or printed document. The outward and + visible body of style consists of a limited number of marks + which, for all any reader is apt to know, are purely + arbitrary." ("English Composition.") + +In this paragraph every sentence is a repetition of some part of the +opening or topic sentence, and serves to explain it. + + Second, by telling the obverse. + +Second, _a proposition may be explained by telling what it is not._ At +times this is as valuable as telling what it is. Care should be taken +that the thing excluded or denied have some likeness to the +proposition or term being explained; that the two be really in some +danger of being confused. Unless to a hopelessly ignorant person, it +would not explain anything to say "a horse is not a man;" but to +assert that "a whale is not a fish, though they have many points in +common," would prepare the way for an explanation of what a whale is. +The obverse statement is nearly always followed by a repetition of +what the thing is. + +The following from Newman illustrates the method: + + "Now what is Theology? First, I will tell you what it is + not. And here, in the first place (though of course I speak + on the subject as a Catholic), observe that, strictly + speaking, I am not assuming that Catholicism is true, while + I make myself the champion of Theology. Catholicism has not + formally entered into my argument hitherto, nor shall I just + now assume any principle peculiar to it, for reasons which + will appear in the sequel, though of course I shall use + Catholic language. Neither, secondly, will I fall into the + fashion of the day, of identifying Natural Theology with + Physical Theology; which said Physical Theology is a most + jejune study, considered as a science, and really no science + at all, for it is ordinarily no more than a series of pious + or polemical remarks upon the physical world viewed + religiously, whereas the word 'Natural' comprehends man and + society, and all that is involved therein, as the great + Protestant writer, Dr. Butler, shows us. Nor, in the third + place, do I mean by Theology polemics of any kind; for + instance, what are called 'Evidences of Religion,' or 'the + Christian Evidences.'... Nor, fourthly, do I mean by + Theology that vague thing called 'Christianity,' or 'our + common Christianity,' or 'Christianity the law of the land,' + if there is any man alive who can tell what it is.... + Lastly, I do not understand by Theology, acquaintance with + the Scriptures; for, though no person of religious feeling + can read Scripture but he will find those feelings roused, + and gain much knowledge of history into the bargain, yet + historical reading and religious feeling are not a science. + I mean none of these things by Theology. I simply mean the + Science of God, or the truths we know about God put into a + system; just as we have a science of the stars, and call it + astronomy, or of the crust of the earth, and call it + geology."[15] + + Third, by Details. + +Third, _a common way of explaining a proposition is to go into +particulars about it._ Enough particulars should be given to furnish a +reasonable explanation of the proposition. Macaulay, writing of the +"muster-rolls of names" which Milton uses, goes into details. He +says:-- + + "They are charmed names. Every one of them is the first link + in a long chain of associated ideas. Like the dwelling place + of our infancy revisited in manhood, like the song of our + country heard in a strange land, they produce upon us an + effect wholly independent of their intrinsic value. One + transports us back to a remote period of history. Another + places us among the novel scenes and manners of a distant + region. A third evokes all the dear classical recollections + of childhood,--the schoolroom, the dog-eared Virgil, the + holiday, and the prize. A fourth brings before us the + splendid phantoms of chivalrous romance, the trophied lists, + the embroidered housings, the quaint devices, the haunted + forests, the enchanted gardens, the achievements of + enamoured knights, and the smiles of rescued + princesses."[16] + + Fourth, by Illustrations. + +Fourth, _a proposition may be explained by the use of a single example +or illustration._ The value of this method depends on the choice of +the example. It must in no essential way differ from the general case +it is intended to illustrate. Supposing this proposition were advanced +by some woman-hater: "All women are, by nature, liars," and it should +be followed by this sentence, "For example, take this lady of +fashion." Such an illustration is worthless. The individual chosen +does not fairly represent the class. If, on the other hand, a teacher +in physics should announce that "all bodies fall at the same rate in a +vacuum," and should illustrate by saying, "If I place a bullet and a +feather in a tube from which the air has been exhausted, they will be +found to fall equally fast," his example would be a fair one, as the +two objects differ in no manner essential to the experiment from "all +bodies." + +Here should be included anecdotes used as illustrations. They are of +value if they are of the same type as the general class they are +intended to explain. They may be of little value, however. It could +safely be said that half the stories told in campaign speeches are not +instances in point at all, but are told only to amuse and deceive. +Specific instances must be chosen with care if they are to serve a +useful purpose in exposition. + +This example is from Newman:-- + + "To know is one thing, to do is another; the two things are + altogether distinct. A man knows that he should get up in + the morning,--he lies abed; he knows that he should not lose + his temper, yet he cannot keep it. A laboring man knows that + he should not go to the ale-house, and his wife knows that + she should not filch when she goes out charing, but, + nevertheless, in these cases, the consciousness of a duty is + not all one with the performance of it. There are, then, + large families of instances, to say the least, in which men + may become wiser, without becoming better."[17] + + Fifth, by Comparisons. + +Last, _a thing may be explained by telling what it is like, or what it +is not like._ This method of comparison is very frequently employed. +To liken a thing to something already known is a vivid way of +explaining. Moreover in many cases it is easier than the method of +repetition or that of details. By this method Macaulay explains his +proposition that "it is the character of such revolutions that we +always see the worst of them first." He says:-- + + "A newly liberated people may be compared to a northern army + encamped on the Rhine or the Xeres. It is said that when + soldiers in such a situation first find themselves able to + indulge without restraint in such a rare and expensive + luxury, nothing is to be seen but intoxication. Soon, + however, plenty teaches discretion, and, after wine has been + for a few months their daily fare, they become more + temperate than they had ever been in their own country. In + the same manner, the final and permanent fruits of liberty + are wisdom, moderation, and mercy. Its immediate effects are + often atrocious crimes, conflicting errors, skepticism on + points the most clear, dogmatism on points the most + mysterious."[18] + +The comparison may be a simile or a metaphor, as when Huxley writes, +explaining "the physical basis of life:"-- + + "Protoplasm, simple or nucleated, is the formal basis of all + life. It is the clay of the potter: which, bake it and paint + it as he will, remains clay, separated by artifice, and not + by nature, from the commonest brick or sun-dried clod."[19] + +These, then, are the methods commonly adopted for explaining terms and +propositions. First, by the use of definitions; second, by repeating +the proposition either directly or obversely, adding something to the +thought by each repetition; third, by enumerating particulars which +form the ground for the statement; fourth, by selecting an instance +which fairly illustrates the proposition; fifth, by the use of +comparisons and analogies. + + The Subject. + +Some general considerations regarding the choice of a subject have +been given. A subject should lend itself to the form of discourse +employed; next, it should be a subject interesting to the readers; and +third, it should be interesting to the writer and suited to his +ability. The last condition makes it advisable to limit the subject to +a narrow field. Few persons have the ability to view a general subject +in all its relations. "Books" everybody knows something of; yet very +few are able to treat this general subject in all its ramifications. A +person writing of the general topic "books" would not only be +compelled to know what a book is, what may truly be called a book, and +what is the value of books to readers, and therefore the influence of +the different kinds of literature; he would also be driven to study +the machinery for making books, the history of printing, illustrating, +and binding books, and all the mechanical processes connected with the +manufacture of books. The subject might take quite another turn, and +be the development of fiction or drama; it might be a discussion of +the influences, political or social, that have moulded literature; it +might be a study of character as manifested in an author's works. No +one is well fitted to write on the general topic "books." A subject +should be limited. + + The Subject should allow Concrete Treatment. + +For young persons _the subject should be so selected and stated that +the treatment may be concrete._ As persons advance they make more +generalizations; few, however, go so far as to think in general terms. +Macaulay says, "Logicians may reason about abstractions, but the great +mass of men must have images." That author depended largely for his +glittering effects upon the use of common, concrete things which the +masses understand. The subject should be such that it can be treated +concretely. "Love," as a general proposition, is beautiful; but what +more can a young writer say about it? Let him leave the whole horde of +abstract subjects found in old rhetorics alone. They are subjects for +experience; they cannot be handled by youth. + + The Theme. + +After the subject has been chosen, the writer next considers how he +shall treat it. He selects the attitude he will assume toward the +proposition, his point of view; and this position he embodies in a +short sentence, called his _theme._ For instance, "patriotism" is the +subject; as it stands it is abstract and very general. However, this, +"Can a partisan be a patriot?" would be sufficiently concrete to be +treated. Even yet there is no indication of the author's point of +view. Should he write, "A real partisan is no patriot," his theme is +announced, and his point of view known. + +A _theme,_ either explicit or implicit, _is essential in exposition._ +It is not necessary that it shall be stated to the reader, but it must +be clearly stated by the writer for his own guidance. It is, however, +usually announced at the opening of the essay. Whether announced or +not, it is most essential to the success of the essay. It is the +touchstone by which the author tries all the material which he has +collected. Not everything on the subject of patriotism should be +admitted to an essay that has for its theme, "A real partisan cannot +be a true patriot." It would save many a digression if the theme were +always written in bold, black letters, and placed before the author as +he writes. Every word in a theme should be there for a purpose, +expressing some important modification of the thought. For instance, +the statement above regarding a partisan may be too sweeping; perhaps +the essayist would prefer to discuss the modified statement that "a +blind partisan cannot always be a true patriot." The theme should +state exactly what will be treated in the essay. The statement of it +should employ the hardest kind of thinking; and when the theme is +determined definitely and for all, the essay is safe from the +intrusion of foreign ideas which disturb the harmony of the whole. + +Another advantage in the theme is that, when once chosen, it will go +far toward writing the essay. One great trouble with the young writer +is that he is not willing to rely on his theme to suggest his +composition. Mr. Palmer well says:-- + + "He examines his pen point, the curtains, his inkstand, to + see if perhaps ideas may not be had from these. He wonders + what the teacher will wish him to say, and he tries to + recall how the passage sounded in the Third Reader. In every + direction but one he turns, and that is the direction where + lies the prime mover of his toil, his subject. Of that he is + afraid. Now, what I want to make evident is that his subject + is not in reality the foe, but the friend. It is his only + helper. His composition is not to be, as he seems to + suppose, a mass of laborious inventions, but it is made up + exclusively of what the subject dictates. He has only to + attend. At present he stands in his own way, making such a + din with his private anxieties that he cannot hear the rich + suggestions of his subject. He is bothered with considering + how he feels, or what he or somebody else will like to see + on his paper. This is debilitating business. He must lean on + his subject, if he would have his writing strong, and busy + himself with what it says, rather than with what he would + say."[20] + + The Title. + +Having selected a subject, and with care stated the theme, it yet +remains to give the essay a name. There is something in a name, and +those authors who make a living by the pen are the shrewdest in +displaying their wares under the most attractive titles. _The title +should be attractive,_ but it should not promise what the essay does +not give. Newspaper headlines are usually attractive enough, but +shamefully untruthful. Next, the title should _indicate the scope of +the essay._ When Mr. Palmer calls his little book "Self-Cultivation in +English," it is evident that it is not a text-book, and that it will +not treat English as literature or as a science. Then, the title +should be _short._ The theme can rarely be used as a title; it is too +long. But the paramount idea developed in the essay should be embodied +in the title. "Partisanship and Patriotism" would be a good subject to +give the essay we have spoken of. The title, then, should be +attractive; it should be short; and it should truthfully indicate the +contents of the essay. + + Selection of Material. + +One of the important factors in the construction of an essay is the +selection of material. Though theme and title have already been +discussed, it was not because they are the things for a writer to +consider next after he has chosen his subject, but because they are so +intimately bound up in the subject that their consideration at that +time was natural. Before a writer can decide upon the position he will +assume toward a proposition, he should have looked over the field in a +general way; for only with the facts before him is he competent to +choose his point of view and to state his theme. The title is not in +the least essential to the writing of the essay; it may be deferred +until the essay is finished. It is necessary, however, that the writer +have much knowledge of his subject, and that from this knowledge he be +able to frame an opinion regarding the subject. When this has been +done he is ready to begin the work of constructing his essay; and the +first question in exposition, as in narration and description, is the +selection of material to develop the theme he has chosen. + +The selection of material is a more difficult matter in exposition +than in narration and description. It requires the shrewdest scrutiny +to keep out matter that does not help the thought forward. In +narration we decided by the main incident; in description by the +purpose and the point of view; in exposition we test all material by +its relation to the theme. Does it help to explain the theme? If not, +however good material it may be, it has no business in the essay. + +Association of ideas is a law by which, when one of two related ideas +is mentioned, the other is suggested. To illustrate, when Manila is +mentioned, Admiral Dewey appears; when treason is spoken of, Arnold is +in the mind. This law is of fundamental importance in arranging an +essay; one thing should suggest the next. But valuable as it is, even +indispensable, it may become the source of much mischief. For +instance, a pupil has this for a topic, "Reading gives pleasure to +many." He writes as his second sentence, "By pleasure I mean the +opposite of pain," and goes on. "All things are understood by their +opposites. If we did not know sickness, we could not enjoy our health. +Joy is understood through sorrow. I remember my first sorrow. My +father had just given me a new knife,--my first knife," and so on from +one thing to another. And not so unnaturally either; each sentence has +suggested the next, but not one is on the topic. The most anxious +watch must be kept in the selection of material. Some will be admitted +without any question; some will be excluded with a brusqueness almost +brutal. There is a third class, however, that is allied with the +subject, yet it is not so easy to determine whether it should be +admitted or rejected. This class requires the closest questioning. It +must contribute to the strength of the essay, not to its pages, or it +has no place there. + + Scale of Treatment. + +_There is another condition which must be considered in the selection +of material, the scale of treatment._ If Macaulay had been asked by a +daily paper to contribute a paragraph of five hundred words on Milton, +he could not have introduced all the numerous topics which have their +place in his essay of one hundred pages. He might have mentioned +Milton's poetry and his character, the two main divisions of the +present essay; but Dante and Aeschylus, Puritan and Royalist, would +scarcely have received notice. The second consideration in selecting +material is the purpose and length of the essay, and the consequent +thoroughness with which the subject is to be treated. + +_The exhaustiveness with which an author treats any subject depends, +first, on his knowledge._ Any person could write a paragraph on +Milton; Macaulay and Lowell wrote delightful essays on the topic; +David Masson has written volumes about him. These would have been +impossible except to a person who had been a special student of the +subject. Second, the thoroughness of the treatment depends _on the +knowledge of the readers._ For persons acquainted with the record of +the momentous events of Milton's time, it would have been quite +unnecessary, it might be considered even an insult to intelligence, to +go into such details of history. The shortest statement suffices when +the reader is already familiar with the subject and needs only to know +the application in this case. Third, the scale of treatment depends +_on the purpose for which the essay is written._ If a newspaper +paragraph, it is one thing; if for a magazine, it is quite another; if +it is to be the final word on the subject, it may reach to volumes. + +An apt illustration of proportion in the scale of treatment has been +given by Scott and Denny in their "Composition-Rhetoric." They suggest +that three maps of the United States, one very large, another half the +size of the first, and a third very small, be hung side by side. If a +comparison be made, it will be found that, whereas a great number of +cities are represented on the largest map, only half as many appear on +the middle-sized map. If the smallest map be examined, only the +largest cities, the longest rivers, the greatest lakes, and the +highest mountains can be found; all others must be omitted. On all +three maps the same relation of parts is maintained. In proportion to +the whole, New York State will hold the same position in all of them. +The Mississippi River will flow from Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico, +and the Gulf will sweep in a curve from Texas to Florida. The scale is +different, but the proportion does not change. + +This principle applies in the construction of themes. In a paragraph +only very important topics will receive any mention. In an essay these +important topics retain their proper place and relation, while many +other points of subordinate rank will be introduced. If the treatment +be lengthened to a book, a host of minor sub-topics will be +considered, each adding something to the development of the theme, and +each giving to its principal topic the relative importance which +belongs to the main divisions of the essay. The scale of treatment +will have much to do with the selection of material. + +Using Macaulay's "Milton" as an illustration, the analyses below will +show how by increasing the size of the essay new subjects come into +the field for notice. The first is but a paragraph and has the two +main divisions of the essay. The second is an outline for an essay of +two thousand words. In the third only one of the sub-topics is +analyzed, as Macaulay has discussed it. It would take too much space +to analyze minutely the whole essay. + + MILTON. + +A. Milton's poetry has given him his position among great men. +B. His conduct was such as was to be expected from a man of a spirit + so high and of an intellect so powerful. + +In the following outline the same main headings are retained, and the +sub-topics which explain them are introduced. The numbers indicate the +paragraphs in Macaulay's essay given to each topic. + + INTRODUCTION (1-8). + +A. Milton's poetry has given him his position among men. (9-46.) + I. No poet has ever triumphed over greater difficulties than + Milton. (10-19.) + II. In his lesser works he shows his great power. (20-31.) + III. There is but one modern poem that can be compared with + "Paradise Lost;" Dante's "Divine Comedy" has great power, is + upon a kindred subject, but in style of treatment widely + different. (32-46.) + Transition. (47-49.) +B. His conduct was such as was to be expected from a man of a spirit + so high and of an intellect so powerful. (50-90.) + I. He lived at one of the most memorable eras in the history of + mankind, and his conduct must be judged as that of the people + is judged. (50-78.) + II. There were some peculiarities which distinguished him from + his contemporaries. (79-90.) + Conclusion. (91-94.) + +Again, taking up but one section, B, II., the analysis is as +follows:-- + +II. There were some peculiarities which distinguished him from his + contemporaries. (79-90.) + A. Milton adopted the noblest qualities of every party-- + 1. Puritans. (80-84.) + a. They excited contempt. However + b. They were no vulgar fanatics; but + c. They derived their peculiarities from their daily + contemplation of superior beings and eternal + interests. + d. Thus the Puritan was made up of two men,--the one + all self-abasement, the other all pride. + e. Resume of character of Puritans. + 2. Heathens were passionate lovers of freedom. (85.) + 3. Royalists had individual independence, learning, and + polite manners of the Court. + B. But he alone fought the battle for the freedom of the mind. + (88.) + 1. This led him to discard parties; and (89) + 2. To dare the boldest literary services. (90.) + +The fundamental principle guiding in the selection of material is +unity. It decides what may with propriety be admitted to the essay, +and it determines in part what must be left out. Another principle, +secondary to this, is scale of treatment. If the essay is to be short, +only essentials may be used; if long, many related sub-topics must +take their subordinate positions in the essay. + + Arrangement. + +Following the selection of material comes its arrangement. Here also +there is greater difficulty than was experienced in narration or +description. Though the same principles of Coherence and Mass guide, +they are more difficult to apply. The seat of the difficulty is in the +elusiveness of the material. It is hard to picture distinctly the +value and relation of the different topics of an essay. Suppose the +subject is "The Evils of War." The first paragraph might contain a +general statement announcing the theme. Then these topics are to be +discussed:-- + + 1. The effect on the _morale_ of a nation. + 2. The suffering of friends and relatives. + 3. The destruction of life. + 4. The backward step in civilization. + 5. The destruction of property. + +The order could not be much worse. How shall a better be obtained? + + Use Cards for Subdivisions. + +The most helpful suggestion regarding a method of making the material +in some degree visible, capable of being grasped, is that each +subdivision be placed on a separate card, and that, as the material is +gathered, it be put upon the card containing the group to which it +belongs. By different arrangements of these cards the writer can find +most easily the order that is natural and effective. It is much like +anagrams, this ordering of matter in an essay. Take these letters, +s-l-y-w-a-r-e, and in your head try to put them together to make a +word; you will have some trouble, probably. If, however, these same +letters be put upon separate slips of paper, you may with some +arrangement get out the rather common word, lawyers. It is much the +same with topic cards in exposition; they can be moved and rearranged +in all possible ways, and at last an order distinctly better than any +other will be found. + +Speaking of cards, it might be well to say that the habit of putting +down a fact or an idea bearing on a topic just as soon as it occurs to +one is invaluable for a writer. All men have good memories; some +persons have better ones than others. But there is no one who does not +forget; and each catches himself very often saying, "I knew that, but +I forgot it." It is a fact, not perhaps complimentary, that paper +tablets are surer than the tablets of memory. + + An Outline. + +In exposition, where the whole attention of the reader should be given +to the thought, where more than ever the mind should be freed from +every hindrance, and its whole energy directed to getting the meaning, +the greatest care should be given to making a plan. No person who has +attained distinction in prose has worked without a plan. Any piece of +literature, even the most discursive, has in it something of plan; but +in literature of the first rank the plan is easily discovered. How +clear it is in Macaulay's essay has been seen. In Burke it is yet more +logical and exact. However beautiful a piece may be, however naturally +one thought grows out of another, as though it were always so and +could be no other way, be sure it is so because of some man's thought, +on account of careful planning. And it may be said without a chance of +contradiction that when an essay has been well planned it is half +done, and that half by far the harder. "We can hardly at the present +day understand what Menander meant, when he told a man who inquired as +to the progress of his comedy that he had finished it, not having yet +written a single line, because he had constructed the action of it in +his mind. A modern critic would have assured him that the merit of his +piece depended on the brilliant things which arose under his pen as he +went along." The brilliant things are but the gargoyles and the +scrolls, the ornaments of the structure; and when so brilliant as to +attract especial attention, they divert the mind from the total effect +much as a series of beautiful marbles set between those perfect +columns would have ruined the Parthenon. It was not in any single +feature--not in pediment, column, or capital, not in frieze, +architrave, or tympanum--that its glorious beauty lay, but in the +simple strength and the harmonious symmetry of the whole, in the +general plan. Webster planned his orations, Newman planned his essays, +Carlyle planned his Frederick the Great. Their works are not a +momentary inspiration; they are the result of forethought, long and +painstaking. The absolute essential in the structure of an essay, that +without which it will fail to arrive anywhere, that compared to which +all ornament, all fine writing, is but sounding brass and a tinkling +cymbal, that absolute essential is the total effect secured by making +a plan. + + Mass the End. + +The principles governing the arrangement of material are Mass and +Coherence. Both are equally essential, but in practice some questions +regarding Mass are settled first. _The important positions in an essay +are the beginning and the end; of these the more important is the +end._ In this place, then, there shall be those sentences or those +paragraphs which deserve that distinction. Here frequently stands the +theme, the conclusion of the whole matter, that for which the +composition was constructed. So that if one wished to know the theme +of an essay, he would be justified in looking at its conclusion to +find it. In the essay on "Milton," it is evident from the last +paragraph that Macaulay never intended it to be only a criticism of +his poetry, though he has devoted many pages to this discussion. Here +is just the last sentence: "Nor do we envy the man who can study +either the life or the writings of the great poet and patriot without +aspiring to emulate, not indeed the sublime works with which his +genius has enriched our literature, but the zeal with which he labored +for the public good, the fortitude with which he endured every private +calamity, the lofty disdain with which he looked down on temptations +and dangers, the deadly hatred which he bore to bigots and tyrants, +and the faith which he so sternly kept with his country and his fame." +Notice the last sentence of a delightful essay by George William +Curtis; one could easily guess the contents and the title. "Fear of +yourself, fear of your own rebuke, fear of betraying your +consciousness of your duty and not doing it--that is the fear that +Lovelace loved better than Lucasta; that is the fear which Francis, +having done his duty, saved, and justly called it honor." Examples of +the ending in which the theme of the essay stands in the place of +greatest distinction are so plentiful that there needs no collector to +establish the assertion. + +In a single paragraph of exposition not exceeding two or three hundred +words, it is a very safe rule for a beginner always to have the theme +in the last sentence; or if he has stated the theme in the opening, to +have a restatement of it in different form, fuller and more explicit +usually, sometimes a shorter and more epigrammatic form, in the +conclusion. + +If the pupil should obey this little rule to have at the end something +worthy of the position, a vast amount of time would be saved both to +teacher and to pupil. It can be safely said that not more than one +half the essays end when the thought ends. Instead of quitting when he +has finished, the writer dribbles on, repeating in diluted fashion +what he has said with some force before, and often introducing matters +that are not within hailing distance of his theme. When one has said +what he started out to say, it is time to stop. If he stops then, he +will have something important in the place of distinction. + + The Beginning. + +_The position of second importance is the beginning._ If but a +paragraph be written, the topic is usually announced at the opening. +In short essays this is the most frequent beginning, and it may safely +be used at all times. Exposition is explanation; the natural thing is +to let the reader know at once what the writer is attempting to +explain. Then the reader knows what the author is talking about and +can relate every statement to the general proposition. To delay the +topic compels the reader to hold in mind all that has been said up to +the time the real theme is uncovered; this frequently results in +inattention. In the little book by Mr. Palmer, the first paragraph +opens with these two sentences: "English as a study has four aims: the +mastery of our language as a science, as a history, as a joy, and as a +tool. I am concerned with but one, the mastery of it as a tool." So, +too, the essay of which the last sentence has been quoted begins: +"These are very precious words of Lovelace:-- + + 'I could not love thee, dear, so much, + Loved I not honor more.' + +And Francis First's message to his mother after Pavia, 'All is lost +but honor,' is in the same key." + +Instead of announcing the theme at the very beginning, in essays of +some length there is sometimes an account of the occasion which led to +the composition. Macaulay has used this opening in the essay on +"Milton." Second, the opening may be the clearing away of matters +unrelated in reality, but which people have commonly associated with +the topic. And third, the essay may open with definitions of the terms +that will be used in the discussion. Of these three, only the first +will be much used by young persons. It makes an easy approach to the +subject, and avoids the unpleasant jar of an abrupt start. It is +common with Macaulay, Lowell, and many essayists that write in an +easy, almost conversational style. + +There is one case in which the theme should not be announced at the +opening. If the proposition were distasteful, if it were generally +believed to be false, it would not be policy to announce it at the +beginning. However reasonable men may be, it is still true that reason +is subject to emotions and beliefs to a greater degree than is +praiseworthy. If a man should open an address upon Abraham Lincoln by +saying that he was a cringing coward, he would have difficulty to get +an audience to hear anything he said after that, no matter how much +truth he spoke. The author of such a statement would be so disliked +that nothing would win for him favor. When an unwelcome theme is to be +discussed, it must be approached carefully by successive steps which +prepare the reader for the reception of a truth that before seemed +false to him. In this case the theme will be stated at the end, but +not at the beginning of the essay. + +Get started as soon as you can, and stop when you have finished; by so +doing you will have important matters in those places which will +emphasize them. Shun the allurements of high-sounding introductions +and conclusions. Professor Marston used to tell his pupils to write +the best introduction they could, to fashion their most gorgeous +peroration, and to be sure to have the discussion clear, logical, and +well expressed. Then he said that when he had cut off both ends, he +generally had left a good essay. An essay should be done much as a +business man does business. He does not want the gentleman who calls +on him during business hours to bow and scatter compliments before he +takes up the matter which brought him there; nor does he care to see +him swaying on the doorknob after the business is finished. To the +business at once, and leave off when you have done. Introductions, +exordiums, perorations, and conclusions are worthless unless they be +in reality a part of the discussion and necessary to the understanding +of the whole. + + Proportion in Treatment. + +Everything, however, cannot occupy the first and last places. How can +other matters be emphasized? To refer to the parallel of the map, in +order to make people see that the Mississippi River is longer than the +Hudson, the designer made it longer on the map. That is exactly what +is done in an essay. If one matter is of greater importance than +another, it should take up a larger part of the essay. When Macaulay +passes over Milton's sonnets with a paragraph, while he devotes +sixteen paragraphs to "Paradise Lost," he indicates by the greater +mass the greater value he ascribes to the epic. So again, a very good +proof that he did not intend this essay to be a literary criticism +primarily, another evidence beside the closing paragraph, is found in +his division of the whole essay. To Milton's poetry he has given +forty-one paragraphs, and to his character fifty-two paragraphs. The +most common way of emphasizing important divisions of an essay is by +increasing the length of treatment. + + Emphasis of Emotion. + +However, there are times when this cannot be done: a point may be so +well known that it needs no amplification. In such a case there may be +an emphasis of emotion; that is, the statement may be made with an +intensity that counterbalances the weight of the larger treatment. It +might be said that the one has great velocity and little mass, while +the other has great mass and little velocity. By hurling forth the +smaller mass at a higher velocity, the momentum may be as great as +when the larger mass moves with little velocity. The dynamic force of +burning words may give an emphasis to a paragraph out of all +proportion to the length of treatment. In one paragraph Macaulay +dashes aside all the defenses of Charles. He writes:-- + + "The advocates of Charles, like the advocates of other + malefactors against whom overwhelming evidence is produced, + generally decline all controversy about the facts, and + content themselves with calling testimony to character. He + had so many private virtues! And had James II. no private + virtues? Was Oliver Cromwell, his bitterest enemies + themselves being the judges, destitute of private virtues? + And what, after all, are the virtues ascribed to Charles? A + religious zeal, not more sincere than that of his son, and + fully as weak and narrow-minded, and a few of the ordinary + household decencies which half the tombstones in England + claim for those who lie beneath them. A good father! A good + husband! Ample apologies indeed for fifteen years of + persecution, tyranny, and falsehood." ("Essay on Milton.") + + Phrases indicating Emphasis. + +Moreover, phrases and sentences may be introduced to show that a +writer considers some topics of equal importance to others, or even of +greater importance, though they do not demand the same length of +treatment. _Of equal importance, not less weighty, beyond question the +most pertinent,_ illustrate what is meant by phrases which indicate +values. These and many of their class which the occasion will call +forth are necessary to give certain topics the rank they hold in the +writer's conception of the whole subject. In discussing the temper and +character of the American people, Burke ascribes it to six powerful +causes. The relative value of these is indicated in the last three by +phrases. I quote only the opening sentences. + + "First, the people of the colonies are descendants of + Englishmen."... "They were further confirmed in this + pleasing error by the form of their provincial legislative + assemblies."... "If anything were wanting to this necessary + operation of the form of government, religion would have + given it a complete effect."... "There is a circumstance + attending these [southern] colonies which makes the spirit + of liberty _still more_ high and haughty than in those to + the northward."... "Permit me, Sir, to add another + circumstance which contributes _no mean part_ towards the + growth and effect of this untractable spirit."... "The last + cause of this disobedient spirit in the colonies is _hardly + less powerful_ than the rest."[21] + +Emphasis is indicated, then, by position; by the length of treatment; +by dynamic statement; and by phrases denoting values. + + Coherence. + +Coherence is the second principle which modifies the internal +structure of a composition. That arrangement should be sought for that +places in proximity one to another those ideas which are most closely +related. More than in composition dealing with things, in those forms +of discourse dealing with intangible, invisible ideas,--with thoughts, +with speculations,--the greatest care is necessary to make one topic +spring of necessity from a preceding topic. And this is not impossible +when the material has been carefully selected. The principal divisions +of the subject bear a necessary and logical relation to the whole +theme, and the subordinate divisions have a similar relation to their +main topic. In the essay on "Milton," Macaulay is seeking to commend +his hero to the reader for two reasons: first, because his writings +"are powerful, not only to delight, but to elevate and purify;" +second, because "the zeal with which he labored for the public good, +the fortitude with which he endured every private calamity, the lofty +disdain with which he looked down on temptations and dangers, the +deadly hatred which he bore to bigots and tyrants, and the faith which +he so sternly kept with his country and with his fame" made him a +patriot worthy of emulation. We feel instinctively that this +arrangement, poetry first and character next, and not the reverse, is +the right order. To discuss character first and poetry last would have +been ruinous to Macaulay's purpose. Notice next the development of a +sub-topic in the same essay. Only one sentence from a paragraph is +given. The defenders of Charles do not choose to discuss "the great +points of the question," but "content themselves with exposing some of +the crimes and follies to which public commotions necessarily give +birth." "Be it so." "Many evils were produced by the Civil War." "It +is the character of such revolutions that we always see the worst of +them first." Yet "there is only one cure for the evils which newly +acquired freedom produces, and that cure is freedom." "Therefore it is +that we decidedly approve of the conduct of Milton and the other wise +and good men who, in spite of much that was ridiculous and hateful in +the conduct of their associates, stood firmly by the cause of public +liberty." No other arrangement of these paragraphs seems possible. To +shift the sequence would break the chain. Each paragraph grows +naturally from the paragraph preceding. Closely related topics stand +together. There is Coherence. + + Transition Phrases. + +The logical connection between topics which have been well arranged +may be made more evident by the skillful use of words and phrases that +indicate the relation of what has been said to what is to be said. +These phrases are guideposts pointing the direction the next topic +will take. They advise the reader where he is and whither he is going. +Cardinal Newman, who had the ability to write not only so that he +could be understood, but so that he could not be misunderstood, made +frequent use of these guides. The question in one of his essays is +"whether knowledge, that is, acquirement, is the real principle of +enlargement, or whether that is not rather something beyond it." These +fragments of sentences open a series of paragraphs. 1. "For instance, +let a person ... go for the first time where physical nature puts on +her wilder and more awful forms," etc. 2. "Again, the view of the +heavens which the telescope opens," etc. 3. "And so again, the sight +of beasts of prey and other foreign animals," etc. 4. "Hence Physical +Science generally," etc. 5. "Again, the study of history," etc. 6. +"And in like manner, what is called seeing the world," etc. 7. "And +then again, the first time the mind comes across the arguments and +speculations of unbelievers," etc. 8. "On the other hand, Religion has +its own enlargement," etc. 9. "Now from these instances, ... it is +plain, first, that the communication of knowledge certainly is either +a condition or a means of that sense of enlargement, or enlightenment +of which at this day we hear so much in certain quarters: this cannot +be denied; but next, it is equally plain, that such communication is +not the whole of the process." How extremely valuable such phrases are +may be realized from the fact that, though the matter is entirely +unknown, any one can know the relation of the parts of this essay, +whither it tends, and can almost supply Newman's thoughts. + + Summary and Transition. + +To secure coherence between the main divisions of an essay, instead of +words and phrases, there are employed sentences and paragraphs of +summary and transition. Summaries gather up what has been said on the +topic, much like a conclusion to a theme; transitions show the +relation between the topic already discussed and the one next to be +treated. Summaries at the conclusion of any division of the whole +subject are like the seats on a mountain path which are conveniently +arranged to give the climber a needed rest, and to spread out at his +feet the features of the landscape through which he has made his way. +Summaries put the reader in possession of the situation up to that +point, and make him ready for the next stage of the advance. At the +end of the summary there is frequently a transition, either a few +sentences or sometimes a short paragraph. The sentence or paragraph of +transition is much more frequent than the paragraph which summarizes. + +The examples of these summaries and transitions are so frequent in +Macaulay and Burke that one transition is sufficient to indicate their +use. Macaulay writes:-- + + "There are several minor poems of Milton on which we would + willingly make a few remarks.... Our limits, however, + prevent us from discussing the point at length. We hasten on + to that extraordinary production which the general suffrage + of critics has placed in the highest class of human + compositions." ("Essay on Milton.") + +To conclude, exposition embraces definition and explanation. +Definition is usually too concise to be clear, and needs an added +explanation. In any piece of exposition there must be unity, and this +principle will dispense with everything that is not essential to the +theme; there must be judicious massing, that those parts of the essay +deserving emphasis may receive it; and there must be a coherence +between the parts, large and small, so close and intimate that the +progress from one topic to another shall be steady and without +hindrance. Unity, Mass, and Coherence should be the main +considerations in composition the aim of which is to explain a term or +a proposition. + + + SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES. + + + QUESTIONS. + + MACAULAY'S ESSAY ON MILTON. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 103.) + +What makes up the introduction of this essay? Does he use the same +method in the Essay on Addison? Take a volume of his essays and see +how many begin in similar fashion. At what paragraph of this Essay on +Milton does the introduction end? Would it be as well to omit it? Give +reasons for your opinion. + +Make an analysis of his argument of the proposition, "No poet has ever +triumphed over greater difficulties than Milton." + +Does Macaulay give a definition of poetry on page 13, or is it an +exposition of the term? + +What figure of speech do you find in the last sentence of the +paragraph on page 43? + +When Macaulay begins to discuss "the public conduct of Milton," what +method of introduction does he adopt? What value is there in it? + +Do the trifles mentioned at the end of the paragraph on page 55 make +an anticlimax? + +What arrangement of sentences in the paragraph does he use most, +individual or serial? + +Does he close his paragraphs with a repetition of the topic more +frequently than with a single detail emphasizing the topic? + +Is his last sentence, in case it is a repetition of the topic, longer +or shorter than the topic sentence? + +Does Macaulay frequently use epigrams? antitheses? + +Find all transition paragraphs. + +Find ten full sentence transitions outside of the transition +paragraphs. + +Where, in such paragraphs, is the topic sentence? + +In this essay find examples of the five methods of expounding a +proposition. + +Which method does Macaulay use oftenest? + +Is his treatment of the subject concrete? + +What advantage is there in such treatment? + + + OF KINGS' TREASURIES. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 142.) + +Do you think the title good? + +Is Ruskin wise in disclosing his subject at once? + +In section 3 what purpose does the first paragraph fulfill? What +method of exposition is adopted in the last paragraph? What method in +section 4? + +For what purpose is the first paragraph of section 5 introduced? Is +the last paragraph of this section a digression? + +Do you think the last sentence of section 9 upon the topic announced +in the first sentence? Where does Ruskin begin to treat the second +topic? Should there be two paragraphs? + +Find the genus and differentia in the definition of "a good book of +the hour." + +What is the use of the analogy in section 13? + +What figure do you find in section 14? + +Do you think a large part of section 30 a digression? + +What do you think of the structure of sentences 4 and 8 in section 32? +Could you improve it by a change of punctuation? + +What is the effect of the supposed case at the end of section 33? Is +it a fair deduction? Is it at the right place in the paragraph, and +why? + +Where would you divide the paragraph in section 37? + +Is the example in section 36 a fair one, and does it prove the case? + +What is a very common method with Ruskin of connecting paragraphs? + +Could you break up the sixth sentence of section 31 so that it would +be better? + +If his audience had been hostile to him would he have been fortunate +in some of his assertions? Make an analysis of the whole essay. Does +he seem to you to have digressed from his topic? At what point? Should +it be two essays? + +What led Ruskin into this long criticism of English character? + +Could you include all the main topics that Ruskin has included, and by +a change in proportion keep the essay on the subject? + + + WEBSTER'S BUNKER HILL ORATION. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 56.) + +Number the paragraphs in this oration. + +Why is paragraph 3 introduced? + +What method of development is used in paragraph 7? In paragraph 8? + +In how many paragraphs is the last sentence short? + +In how many is the last sentence a repetition of the topic? + +What purpose is served in paragraphs 8, 9, and 10? + +In paragraph 12 note the use of contrast. + +What kind of development in paragraph 27? + +Analyze the oration from paragraph 28. + +Does he place the topic sentence near the beginning of the paragraphs? + +Does he frequently use transition sentences? + +Do you think the outline of this as distinct as that of Macaulay's +Essay on Milton? Should it be? + +What figure of speech in the word "axe" in paragraph 32, and "bayonet" +in paragraph 36? + +What figure at the end of paragraph 40? + +Does he use figures as frequently as Macaulay? + + + EXERCISES. + +This year, taking up the study of exposition, offers especially good +opportunities for exercises in paragraph and sentence construction. +During the first eight or ten weeks the pupils will write isolated +paragraphs. The unity and arrangement of these should be carefully +criticised. Also the exercises should be arranged so that the pupils +will employ all forms of paragraphs. Before he begins to write a +paragraph, the pupil should know what he is to include in it, and in +what order; otherwise the paragraph will fail in unity and effective +massing. Paragraphs are made by forethought, not by inspiration. + +Following the writing of isolated paragraphs is the composition of the +long essay. The first thing is a study of outlines. This will take up +six or eight weeks. To secure the view of the whole in different +arrangements, use the cards. + +When the class has gained some grasp of outlines, the writing of +essays should be begun. At the option of the pupils, they may write +some of the essays already outlined, or study new themes. Two or three +paragraphs are all that can be well done for a lesson. Good, not much, +should be the ideal. In this way a single essay may occupy a class +from three to six weeks. + +It should be remembered that these exercises are written consciously +for practice. They are exercises--no more. Their purpose is to give +skill and judgment in composition. It is because they are exercises +that they may be somewhat stereotyped and artificial in form, just as +exercises in music may be artificially constructed to meet the +difficulties the young musician will have to confront. + +During the writing of these essays special attention should be given +to sentence construction. The inclusion of just the ideas needed in +the sentence and no more; the massing that makes prominent the thought +that deserves prominence; and the nice adjustment of one sentence to +the next: these objects should be striven for during this semester. + +1, 2. Write definitions of such common terms as jingoism, civil +service, gold standard, the submerged tenth, sweat shop, internal +revenue, cyclonic area, foreign policy, imperialism, free silver, +mugwump, political pull, Monroe doctrine, etc. Five or six terms which +are not found in a dictionary will make a hard exercise; and two or +three lessons in definitions will set the pupils in the direction of +accurate and adequate statements. + +For isolated paragraphs write upon the following subjects:-- + +3. Novel reading gives one a knowledge of the world not to be gained +in any other way. Particulars. + +4. Novel reading unfits people for the actualities of life. Specific +instances. + +5. Among the numerous uses of biography three stand forth +preeminent,--it furnishes the material of history, it lets us into the +secrets of the good and great, and it sets before us attainable ideals +of noble humanity. Repetition. + +6. It is beyond any possibility of successful contradiction that the +examination system encourages cheating. Proofs. + +7. Electric cars and automobiles are driving horses out of the cities. +Instances. + +8. Every great development in the culture of a nation has followed a +great war. Proofs. + +9. From the following general subjects have the pupils state definite +themes. Write isolated paragraphs on a few of them. + + Political Parties. + War. + Books. + Machines. + Inventions. + Great Men. + Planets. + Civil Service. + Coeducation. + Roads. + Tramps. + Boycotts. + +10. Place another similar list on the board and have the pupils vote +on what three they prefer. Use these in making outlines. Then select +more. + +Supposing they had settled upon this theme: The tramp is the logical +result of our economic system; have it outlined. The result might be +as follows:-- + +A. What is a tramp? + 1. Who become tramps? + 2. Their number. + 3. Where are they? +B. Why is he a tramp? + 1. Inventions have increased the power of production more rapidly + than the demand for products has grown. + a. On the farm. + b. Transportation. + c. Factories. + d. Piecework. + 2. Women now do much work formerly done by men. + a. As clerks. + b. As typewriters, stenographers, and bookkeepers. + c. In the professions. + 3. The result of these causes is that many men willing to work + are out of employment. +C. What must be done? + +11. Fill out the following outline. + +Subject: The Thermometer. + A. Its Invention. + B. Its Construction. + C. Its Value and Uses. + +12. Outline six more themes. + +13. Beginning the writing of long essays, write essays in sections. +Using "Tramps" for an illustration, as it is outlined it contains +about twelve paragraphs. All of section "A" may be included in one +paragraph. "B, 1" may be a paragraph of repetition; "a," "b," "c," +"d," may each make a paragraph of particulars. By stating "B, 2" in +the following way, it may be a paragraph of "what not:" It was once +considered unladylike for women to engage in any occupation outside of +the home. Men said that they could not retain, etc.--Go on with the +things woman could not do, closing with a statement of what she does +do. + +"B, 2, a." On account of their fidelity, honesty, and courtesy, women +succeed as clerks. Repetition. + + b. The quickness of their intelligence and the accuracy of their + work have made women more desirable for routine work in an + office than men. Comparison and Contrast. + + c. There are certain feminine qualities which especially fit women + for the practice of teaching and medicine. Details. + +"B, 3." By Combination of Forms. + +"C." By Details. + +It would be a pleasure to go on with this list of exercises, but it is +unnecessary and it is unwise. These indicate the objects to be sought +for in the exercises. They are not a specific course, though they +might suit a certain environment. Each teacher knows her own +pupils,--their attainments and their interests. The subjects should be +chosen to suit their special cases. Only make them interesting; put +them into such form that there is something to get hold of; and adapt +them so that all the topics to be studied will be illustrated in the +work. The pupils should be able to write any form of paragraph, to +arrange it so that any idea is made prominent, and to make easy +transitions. Arrange the exercises to accomplish definite results. + +During the third year, attention should be given to words and to the +refinements of elegant composition. These the pupils will best learn +by careful watch of the literature. The teacher should be quick to +feel the strength and beauty of any passage and able to point out the +means adopted to obtain the delightful effect. Clearness first is the +thing to be desired; if to this can be added force and a degree of +elegance during the last two years, the work of the instructor has +been well done. + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER VI + + ARGUMENT + + +Argument has been defined as that form of discourse the purpose of +which is to convince the reader of the truth or falsity of a +proposition. It is closely allied with exposition. To convince a +person, it is first necessary that the proposition be explained to +him. This is all that is necessary in many cases. Did men decide all +matters without prejudice, and were they willing to accept the truth +at any cost, even to discard the beliefs that have been to them the +source of greatest happiness, the simple explanation would be +sufficient. However, as men are not all-wise, and as they are not +always "reasonable," they are found to hold different opinions +regarding the same subject; and one person often wishes to convince +another of the error of his beliefs. Men continually use the words +_because_ and _therefore;_ indeed, a great deal of writing has in it +an element of argument. + +From the fact that argument and exposition are so nearly alike, it +follows that they will be governed by much the same principles. As +argument, in addition to explaining, seeks to convince, it is +necessary, in addition to knowing how to explain, to know what is +considered convincing,--what are proofs; and secondly, what is the +best order in which to arrange proofs. + + Induction and Deduction. + +Arguments have been classified as inductive and deductive.[22] +Induction includes arguments that proceed from individual cases to +establish a general truth. Deduction comprises arguments that proceed +from a general truth to establish the proposition in specific +instances, or groups of instances. + + Syllogism. Premises. + +If one should say "Socrates is mortal because he is a man," or +"Socrates will die because all men are mortal," or "Socrates is a man, +therefore he will die," by any of these he has expressed a truth which +all men accept. In any of these expressions are bound up two +propositions, called premises, from which a third proposition, called +a conclusion, is derived. If expanded, the three propositions assume +this form: All men are mortal. Socrates is a man. Therefore Socrates +is mortal. This is termed a syllogism. A syllogism consists of a major +premise, a predication about all the members of a general class of +objects; a minor premise, a predication that includes an individual or +a group of individuals in the general class named by the major +premise; and a conclusion, the proposition which is derived from the +relation existing between the other two propositions. The propositions +above would be classified as follows:-- + + Major premise: All men are mortal, a predication about _all_ + men. + + Minor premise: Socrates is a man, including an individual in + the general class. + + Conclusion: Socrates is mortal. + + Terms. + +In every syllogism there are three terms,--major, minor, and middle. +The middle term is found in both the premises, but not in the +conclusion. It is the link connecting the major and minor terms. The +major term is usually the predicate of the major premise and the +predicate of the conclusion. The minor term is the subject of the +minor premise and the subject of the conclusion. "Men" is the middle +term, "are mortal" the major term, and "Socrates," the minor term. + + Enthymeme. + +It is rarely the case in literature that the syllogism is fully +stated: generally one of the premises is omitted. Such a form of +statement is termed an enthymeme. "Socrates will die because all men +are mortal" is an enthymeme. The minor premise has been omitted. +"Socrates is mortal because he is a man" is also an enthymeme, because +the major premise which states that "all men are mortal" has been +omitted. + +The conclusions arrived at by means of syllogisms are irresistible, +provided the form be correct and the premises be true. It is +impossible here to discuss the forms of syllogisms; they are too many. +It will be of value, however, to call attention to a few of the +commonest errors in syllogisms. + + Definition of Terms. + +The first error arises from a misunderstanding of terms. It is often +said that George Eliot is a poet; there are some who disagree. Certain +it is that she wrote in verse form; and it is true that she has +embodied noble thoughts in verse; but it is quite as true that she +lacks "the bird-note." If this were reduced to a syllogism, it would +not be a discussion of whether George Eliot be a poet, but rather a +discussion of what is a poet. Stated, it reads: All persons who embody +noble thoughts in verse form are poets. George Eliot is a person who +has embodied noble thoughts in verse form. Therefore George Eliot is a +poet. If the major premise of this syllogism be granted, the +conclusion is unquestionable. The terms should be defined at the +beginning; then this error, springing from a misunderstanding of +terms, perhaps the most common, would be avoided. + + Undistributed Middle. + +The second error arises from the fact that the middle term is not +"distributed;" that is, the major premise makes no statement about all +the members of a class. The premises in the following are true, but +the conclusion is nonsense. + + A horse is an animal. + Man is an animal. + Therefore, man is a horse. + +The middle term, in this case "animal," must be "distributed;" some +statement must be made of _all_ animals. The following would be true: +All animals have life; therefore man has life. The major premise +predicates life of all animals. + + False Premises. + +A third error in a syllogism is in the premises themselves. If either +premise be false, the conclusion is not necessarily true. A parent +might say to his son, "You are doing wrong, and you will pay the +penalty for it soon." Generally he would be right. However, if this +were put into a syllogism, it would read as follows: All persons who +do wrong pay the penalty soon. You are such a person. Therefore, etc. +Admitting the son is breaking the law, the fact is that the major +premise is not always true, and the conclusion holds the weakness of +the weak premise. Again, supposing everybody accepted the general +truth, "All unrepentant sinners will be punished." The minister might +then say to a young man, "You will certainly be punished, because all +unrepentant sinners will be punished." The young man might deny the +suppressed minor premise, which is, "You are an unrepentant sinner." +Both premises must be true if they prove anything. The conclusion +contains the weakness of either premise. In both of these examples +note that the mistake is in the premise which does not appear. In an +enthymeme, great care should be taken with the suppressed premise. Be +sure it is true when you use this form of argument, and be sure to +look for it and state it in full when examining another's argument. It +is a common way of hiding a weak point to cover it in the suppressed +premise of an enthymeme. + + Method of Induction. + +Induction, which proceeds directly opposite to the method of +deduction, is the method by which all our ultimate knowledge has been +obtained. By observing individual instances man has gathered a great +store of general truths. There was a time when the first man would not +have been justified in saying, "The sun will rise in the east +to-morrow." The general law had not been established. To-day it is +practically certain that the sun will rise in the east to-morrow +morning, because it has done so for thousands of years; the large +number of instances establishes the general truth. Yet there may come +a day when it will rise in the south, or not rise at all. Until every +case has been tried and found to conform to the law, theoretically man +cannot be absolutely certain of any general truth. There may come an +exception to the general rule that all men must die. So far, however, +there is no experience to justify any man in hoping to escape death. +"As sure as death" means in practice absolutely sure, though this is +not what is called a perfect induction; that is, an induction in which +every possible case has been included. "All the other States are +smaller than Texas" is a perfect induction, but it forms no basis for +argument. All the cases must be known for a perfect induction; there +is no unknown to argue to. This, then, is only a short statement of +many individual truths, and has but little of value. Induction that is +imperfect is more valuable; for with many cases the probability +becomes so strong that it is a practical certainty. It is the method +of science. + +More valuable for literature is another division of arguments into +arguments from cause, arguments from sign, and arguments from example. + + Arguments from Cause. + +Arguments from cause include those propositions which, if they were +granted, would account for the fact or proposition maintained. The +decisive test is to suppose the proposition to be true; then, if it +will account for the condition, it is an argument from cause. A child +holds its finger in a flame; therefore its finger is burned. If the +first proposition be supposed to be true, it will account for a burned +finger. It is an argument from cause, and it is conclusive. Again, if +a man severs his carotid artery, he will die. If the first proposition +be supposed to be true, it will account for the man's subsequent +death. Now, supposing a man takes strychnine, he will die. This is not +quite so sure. If a stomach-pump were used or an antidote given, he +might not die. The cause has been hindered in its action, or another +cause has intervened to counterbalance the first. If, then, a cause be +adequate to produce the effect, and if it act unhindered or +unmodified, the effect will certainly follow the active cause. An +argument that uses as a premise such a cause may predicate its effect +as a conclusion with absolute certainty. Such an argument is +conclusive. + +The argument from cause is used more frequently to establish a +probability than to prove a fact or proposition. However strong the +proofs of a statement may be, men hesitate to accept either the +statement or the proofs if the proposition is not plausible, or, as +people say, if "they do not understand it," or if "it is not +reasonable." If a murder be done and circumstances all point to your +friend, you do not believe your friend to be the criminal until some +fact is produced sufficient to cause your friend to commit the +crime,--until some motive is established. If it be shown that the +friend hated the murdered man and would be benefited by his death, a +motive is established,--the proposition is made plausible. A man could +"understand how he came to do it." The hatred and the benefit being +granted, they would account for his deed. It is an argument from +cause, used not as a proof, but to establish a probability. It makes +the proposition ready for proof. + + Arguments from Sign. + +The second class of arguments, arguments from sign, is most often used +for proof. If two facts or conditions always occur together, the +presence of one is a sign of the presence of the other. Cause and +effect are so related that if either be observed, it is an indication +of the other. No cause acts without a consequent effect; an effect is +a sure sign of a preceding cause. Supposing one should say, "Because +the flowers are dead, there was a frost," or "If ice has formed on the +river, it must have been cold," in both instances the argument would +be an argument from sign. Both also proceed from the effect to the +cause. Only a low temperature forms ice on the river; the argument +from effect to cause is conclusive. In the first case, the argument is +not conclusive, because flowers may die from other causes. In a case +like this, it is necessary to find all possible causes, and then by +testing each in succession to determine which could not have acted and +leave the one that is the only actual cause. A man is found dead; +death has resulted from natural causes, from murder, or from suicide. +Each possible cause would be tested; and by elimination of the other +possible causes the one right cause would be left. This method of +elimination is frequently employed in arguments from effect to cause. +When this method is used the alternatives should be few, else it gives +rise to confusion and to lack of attention caused by the tediousness +of the discussion. And an enumeration of all possible causes must be +made; for if one be omitted it may be the one that is in fact the +right one. + +The relation between cause and effect is so intimate that the +occurrence of one may be regarded as a sure sign of the presence of +the other. If an effect is produced by only one cause, the presence of +the effect is a certain indication of the cause. If several causes +produce the same effect, some other methods must be used to determine +the cause operating in this special case. + + Sequence and Cause. + +In reasoning from effect to cause, one must be sure that he is dealing +with a cause. As effect follows cause, there is danger that anything +that follows another may be considered as caused by it. Because a man +died just after eating, it would not be quite reasonable to connect +eating and death as cause and effect. The fact is that death is surer +to follow starvation. The glow at evening is generally followed by +fair weather the next day; but the fair weather is not an effect of a +clear sunset. Common sense must be used to determine whether the +relation is one of cause and effect; something more than a simple +sequence is necessary. + +Another argument from sign associates conditions that frequently occur +together, though one is not the cause of the other. "James is near, +because there is his blind father," means that James always +accompanies his father; where the father is, the son is too. If one +had noticed that potatoes planted at the full of the moon grew well, +and potatoes planted at other times did not thrive, he might say as a +result of years of observation that a certain crop would be a failure +because it was not planted at the right time. This argument might have +weight with ignorant people, but intelligent persons do not consider +it a sure sign. All signs belong to this class of arguments; they are +of value or worthless as they come true more or less frequently. Every +time there is an exception the argument is weakened; another case of +its working strengthens it. Where there is no sure relation like cause +and effect, the strength of the argument depends on the frequency of +the recurrence of the associated conditions. + +A third argument from sign associates two effects of the same cause. A +lad on waking exclaims, "The window is covered with frost; I can go +skating to-day." The frost on the window is not the cause of the ice +on the river. Rather, both phenomena are results of the same cause. +This kind of argument is not necessarily conclusive; yet with others +it always strengthens a case. + +Testimony is usually called an argument from sign. The assertion by +some one that a thing occurred is not sure proof; it is only a sign +that it occurred. People have said that they have seen witches, +ghosts, and sea serpents, and unquestionably believed it; men +generally do not accept their testimony. In a criminal case, it would +be difficult to accept the testimony of both sides. Though testimony +seems a strong argument, it is or it is not, according to the +conditions under which it is given. One would care little for the +testimony of an ignorant man in a matter that called for wisdom; he +would hesitate to accept the testimony of a man who claimed he saw, +but upon cross-examination could not report what he saw; and he would +not think it fair to be condemned upon the testimony of his enemies. +Books have been written upon evidence, but three principles are all +that are needed in ordinary arguments. First, the person giving +testimony must be capable of observation; second, he must be able to +report accurately what he has observed; third, he must have a desire +to tell the exact truth. + + Arguments from Example. + +The third large division comprises arguments from example. That is, if +a truth be asserted of an individual, it can therefore be predicated +of the class to which the individual belongs. For instance, if the +first time a person saw a giraffe, he observed that it was eating +grass, he would be justified in saying that giraffes are herbivorous. +All gold is yellow, heavy, and not corroded by acid, though no one has +tested it all. However, every giraffe does not have one ear brown and +the other gray because the first one seen happened to be so marked; +neither is all gold in the shape of ten-dollar gold pieces. Only +common sense will serve to pick out essential qualities; but if +essential and invariable qualities be selected, the argument from the +example of an individual to all members of its class is very powerful. + +Analogies resemble examples. In exposition they are used for +illustration; in argument they are employed as proofs. Though two +things belong to different classes of objects, they may have some +qualities that are similar, and so an argument may be made from one to +another. "Natural Law in the Spiritual World" is a book written to +show how the physical laws hold true in the region of spirit. It is +not because an enemy sowed tares in a neighbor's field that there are +wicked men in the world; nor is it because a lover of jewels will sell +everything that he has to buy the pearl of greatest price that men +devote everything they have to the kingdom of heaven. Analogies prove +nothing. They clear up relations and often help the reader to +appreciate other arguments. They are valuable when the likeness is +broad and easily traced. They should never be used alone. + +These, then, are the principal forms of argument: deduction and +induction; arguments from cause, from sign, and from example. Upon +these men depend when they wish to convince of truth or error. + + Selection of Material. + +In argument the material is selected with reference to its value as +proof. Every particle of matter must be carefully tested. While a +piece of material that could be omitted without loss to the +explanation may sometimes find a place in exposition, such a thing +must not occur in argument. As soon as a reader discovers that the +writer is off the track, either he loses respect for the author's +words, or he suspects him of trying to hide the weakness of his +position in a cloud of worthless and irrelevant matters. Every bit of +material should advance the argument one step; it should fill its +niche in the well-planned structure; it should contribute its part to +the strength of the whole. + + Plan called The Brief. + +When the material has been selected, it must be arranged. An argument +is a demonstration. Each of its parts is the natural result of what +has preceded, and, up to the last step, each part is the basis for the +next step. As in geometry a demonstration that omits one step in its +development, or, which comes to the same thing, puts the point out of +its logical order, is worthless as a demonstration, so in argument not +one essential step can be omitted, nor can it be misplaced. The plan +in an argument may be more evident than in exposition. We are a little +offended if the framework shows too plainly in exposition; but there +is no offense in a well-articulated skeleton in an argument. It is +quite the rule that the general plan and the main divisions of the +argument are announced at the very beginning. Any device that will +make the relation of the parts clearer should be used. Over and over +again the writer should arrange the cards with the topics until he is +certain that no other order is so good. The writing is a mere trifle +compared with the outline, called in argument the brief. + +Though the brief is so essential, it is unfortunately a thing about +which but few suggestions can be given. The circumstances under which +arguments are written--especially whether written to defend a position +or to attack it--are so various that rules cannot be given. Still a +few general principles may be of value. + + Climax. + +Proofs should be arranged in a climax. This does not mean that the +weakest argument should come first, and the next stronger should +follow, and so on until the last and strongest is reached. It is +necessary to begin with something that will catch the attention; and +in argument it is frequently a proof strong enough to convince the +reader that the writer knows what he is contending for, and that he +can strike a hard blow. Then again, it is evident that in all +arguments there are main points in the discussion that must be +established by points of minor importance. The main points should be +arranged in a logical climax, and the sub-topics which go to support +one of the main divisions should have their climax. At the end of the +whole should be the strongest and the most comprehensive argument. It +should be a general advance of the whole line of argument, including +all the propositions that have previously been called into action, +sweeping everything before it. + + Inductive precedes Deductive. + +To gain this climax what kind of arguments should precede? Of +inductive and deductive, the inductive proofs generally go first. The +advance from particular instances to general truths is the best suited +to catch the attention, for men think with individual examples, and +general truths make little appeal to them. Moreover, if one is +addressing people of opposing views,--and in most cases he is, else +why is he arguing?--it is unwise to begin with bald statements of +unwelcome truths. They will be rejected without consideration. They +can with advantage be delayed until they are reached in the regular +development, and the reader has been prepared for their reception. +General truths and their application by deductive arguments usually +stand late in the brief. + + Cause precedes Sign. + +Of arguments from cause, sign, or example, it is ordinarily wise to +place arguments from cause first. A person does not listen to any +explanation of an unknown truth until he knows that the explanation is +plausible; that the cause assigned is adequate to produce the result. +After one knows that the cause is sufficient and may have brought +about the result, he is in a position to learn that it is the very +cause that produced the effect. Arguments from cause are very rarely +conclusive proofs of fact. They only establish a probability. And it +would be unwise to prove that a thing might be a possibility after one +had attempted to prove that it is a fact. It would be a long step +backward, a retreat. Therefore arguments from cause, unless absolutely +conclusive proof of fact, should not come last; but by other +arguments,--by testimony, by example, by analogy,--the possibility, +which has been reached by the argument from cause, may be established +as a fact. + + Example follows Sign. + +Of the two, sign and example, example generally follows sign. In +arguments about human affairs, examples seldom prove anything; for +under similar conditions one person may not act like another. Though +this be true, the argument from example is one of the most +effective--it is not at all conclusive--in that class of cases where +oratory is combined with argument to convince and persuade. This is +because men learn most readily from examples. To reason about matters +of conduct on abstract principles of morality convinces but few; to +point to a Lincoln or a Franklin has persuaded thousands. Examples are +of most use in enforcing and illustrating and strengthening a point +already established, and they generally follow arguments from sign. + + Refutation. + +One other class of arguments finds a place in debate: namely, indirect +arguments. It is often as much an advantage to a debater to dispose of +objections as it is to establish his own case. This is because a +question usually has two alternatives. If one can refute the arguments +in favor of the opponent's position, he has by that very process +established his own. If the points of the refutation are of minor +importance and are related to any division of his own direct argument, +the refutation of such points should be taken up in connection with +the related parts of the direct argument. If, however, it is an +argument of some weight and should be considered separate and apart +from the direct argument, it is generally wisest to proceed to its +demolition at the end of the direct argument and before the conclusion +of the whole. For then the whole weight of the direct argument will be +thrown into the refutation and will render every word so much the more +destructive. Again, if the opposing argument be very strong and have +taken complete possession of the audience, it must be attacked and +disposed of at the very beginning. Otherwise it is impossible for the +direct argument to make any advance. + +From these suggestions one derives the general principle that each +case must be considered by itself. There will be cases of conflict +among the rules, and there must be a careful weighing of methods. +Common sense and patient labor are the most valuable assistants in +arranging a powerful argument. + +It hardly needs to be said that the suggestions made in the chapter on +Exposition regarding Mass and Coherence should be observed here. In +argument as in exposition, topics are emphasized by position, and by +proportion in the scale of treatment. Here as there, matters that are +closely related in thought should be connected in the discourse, and +matters that are not related in thought should not be associated in +the essay. + +It will be an advantage now to look through "Conciliation with the +Colonies" and note its general plan of structure. Only the main +divisions of this powerful oration can be given, as to make a full +brief would deprive this piece of literature of half its value for +study. + + Analysis of Burke's Oration. + +Mr. Burke begins by saying that it is "an awful subject or there is +none this side of the grave." He states that he has studied the +question for years, and while Parliament has pursued a vacillating +policy and one aggravating to the colonies, he has a fixed policy and +one sure to restore "the former unsuspecting confidence in the Mother +Country." His policy is simple peace. This by way of introduction. He +then divides the argument into two large divisions and proceeds. + +I. OUGHT YOU TO CONCEDE? + A. What are "the true nature and the peculiar circumstances of + the object which we have before us?" + I. America has a rapidly growing population. + II. It has a rapidly increasing commercial value, shown by + 1. Its demand for our goods. + 2. The value of its agricultural products. + 3. The value of the products of its fisheries. + III. There is in the people a "fierce spirit of liberty." + This is the result of + 1. Their descent from Englishmen. + 2. Their popular form of government. + 3. Religion in the North. + 4. The haughty spirit of the South. + 5. Their education. + 6. Their remoteness from the governing body. + B. "You have before you the object." "What ... shall we do with + it?" "There are but three ways of proceeding relative to this + stubborn spirit in the colonies." + I. To change it by removing the causes. This is + impracticable. + II. To prosecute it as criminal. This is inexpedient. + III. _To comply with it as necessary._ This is the answer to + the first question. + +II. OF WHAT NATURE OUGHT THE CONCESSION TO BE? + A. A concession that grants to any colony the satisfaction of the + grievances it complains of brings about conciliation and + peace. This general proposition is established by the + following examples. It has done so in + 1. Ireland, + 2. Wales, + 3. Durham, and + 4. Chester. + B. The grievances complained of in America are unjust taxation + and no representation. + C. Therefore these resolutions rehearsing facts and calculated to + satisfy their grievances will bring about conciliation and + peace. + I. They are unrepresented. + II. They are taxed. + III. No method has been devised for procuring a representation + in Parliament for the said Colonies. + IV. Each colony has within itself a body with powers to + raise, levy, and assess taxes. + V. These assemblies have at sundry times granted large + subsidies and aids to his Majesty's service. + VI. Experience teaches that it is expedient to follow their + method rather than force payment. + D. As a result of the adoption of these resolutions, "everything + which has been made to enforce a contrary system must, I take + it for granted, fall along with it. On that ground, I have + drawn the following resolutions." + I. It is proper to repeal certain legislation regarding + taxes, imports, and administration of justice. + II. To secure a fair and unbiased judiciary. + III. To provide better for the Courts of Admiralty. + E. He next considers objections. + Conclusion. + +Notice first the introduction. It goes straight to the question. To +tell a large opposition that it has vacillated on a great question is +not calculated to win a kind hearing; yet this point, necessary to +Burke's argument, is so delicately handled that no one could be +seriously offended, nor could any one charge him with weakness. The +introduction serves its purpose; it gains the attention of the +audience and it exactly states the proposition. + +He then divides the whole argument into two parts. The framework is +visible, and with intent. These great divisions he takes up +separately. First, that there may be a perfect understanding of the +question, he explains "the true nature and the peculiar circumstances +of the object which we have before us." This illustrates the use of +exposition in argument. The descent and education did not prove that +the Americans had a fiery spirit; that was acknowledged and needed no +proof. It simply sets forth the facts,--facts which he afterward uses +as powerful instruments of conviction. As long as a man can use +exposition, he can carry his readers with him; it is when he begins to +argue, to force matters, that he raises opposition. So this use of +exposition was fortunate. America was an English colony. Her strength +and riches were England's strength and wealth. It would be pleasing to +all Englishmen to hear the recital of America's prosperity. Up to the +time he asks, "What, in the name of God, shall we do with it," the +oration is not essentially argument; it does nothing more than place +"before you the object." + +In the section marked "I. B," Burke begins the real argument by the +method of elimination. He asserts that there are only three ways of +dealing with this fierce spirit of liberty. Then he conclusively +proves the first impracticable and the second inexpedient. There is +left but the one course, concession. This method of proof is +absolutely conclusive if every possible contingency is stated and +provided for. Notice that in this section "B" everything that was +mentioned in the first section "A" is used, and the whole is one solid +mass moving forward irresistibly to the conclusion of the first and +the most important part of this argument. + +The second main division is devoted to the conclusion of the first. If +you must concede,--the conclusion of the first half,--what will be the +nature of your concession? A concession, to be a concession, must +grant what the colonists wish, not what the ministry thinks would be +good for them. Then by the history of England's dealings with Ireland, +Wales, Chester, and Durham, he proves that such a concession has been +followed by peace. This makes the major premise of his syllogism, +stated in "II. A." The minor premise is a statement of the grievances +of the colonies. The conclusion is in the resolutions for the redress +of the grievances of the colonies. The second part is then one great +syllogism, the premises of which are established by ample proof, the +conclusion of which cannot well be disputed. + +"And here I should close," says the orator; the direct argument is +finished. There are some objections which demand dignified +consideration. At this point, however, it is easy to refute any +objections, for behind each word there is now the crushing weight of +the whole argument. + +The conclusion recites the advantages of Burke's plan over all others, +and reasserts its value, now proven at every point. It is a powerful +summary, and a skillful plea for the adoption of a policy of +conciliation with the colonies of America. + +Every kind of argument is used in this oration. One would look long +for a treasury better supplied with illustrations. The great +conclusions are reached by the certain methods of elimination and +deduction. In establishing the minor points Burke has used arguments +from sign, cause, example, and induction. He calls in testimony; he +quotes authority; he illustrates. Not any device of sound argument +that a man honest in his search for truth may use has been omitted. It +is worthy of patient study. + +In conclusion, the student of argument should learn well the value of +different kinds of argument; he should exercise the most careful +scrutiny in selecting his material, without any hesitation rejecting +irrelevant matter; he should state the proposition so that it cannot +be misunderstood; he must consider his readers, guiding his course +wisely with regard for all the conditions under which he produces his +argument; he should remember that the law in argument is climax, and +that coherence should be sought with infinite pains. Above all, the +man who takes up a debate must be fair and honest; only so will he win +favor from his readers, and gain what is worth more than victory,--the +distinction of being a servant of truth. + + + SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS + + + QUESTIONS. + + MACAULAY'S ESSAY ON MILTON. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 103.) + +Put into a syllogism, Macaulay's opponents said, "An educated man +living in an enlightened age has better facilities for writing poetry +than an uneducated man at the dawn of civilization. Milton was an +educated man, living in an enlightened age; therefore Macaulay had +better facilities," etc. + +Which premise does Macaulay attack? Does he demolish it? + +What value is there in an analogy between experimental sciences and +imitative arts? Between poetry and a magic-lantern? Is either an +argument that is convincing? Are both effective in the essay? + +What do you think of Macaulay's estimate of Wordsworth? Granting that +this estimate is true, what kind of a proof is it of the proposition +that "his very talents will be a hindrance to him"? + +Is it a uniform phenomenon that as civilization advances, poetry +declines? Name some instances that prove it. + +Name some instances that disprove it. What method of proof have you +used in both? + +Is an uncivilized state of society the cause of good poetry, or only +an attendant circumstance? + +What method of proof is adopted on pages 34 and 35? + +Granting that you cannot conceive "a good man and an unnatural +father," does that prove anything about the first sentence at the +bottom of page 55? + +Does the example of the prisoner on page 60 prove anything? + + + BURKE'S SPEECH ON CONCILIATION WITH THE COLONIES. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 100.) + +What argument does Burke use to prove that hedging in the population +is not practicable? + +When he says that they will occupy territory because they have done +so, is that an inductive or deductive argument, or is it an argument +from sign? + +If it is deductive, what is the suppressed premise? + +Are the arguments from 48 to 64 more in the nature of direct or +indirect proofs? + +What value is there in an indirect argument? + +"Americans speak the English language, therefore they are English." Is +the argument good? Where is the fault? Look for the suppressed +premise. + +Is paragraph 55 direct or indirect argument? + +Does he prove that criminal procedure against the colonies would fail, +by sign or by deduction? + +Do the four precedents which he cites of Ireland, Wales, Durham, and +Chester prove that his plan will work in America? + +Upon what general principle do all arguments from example depend? + +Is paragraph 79 in itself exposition or argument? + +What method is adopted in paragraph 88 to prove that the principle of +concession is applicable to America? + +How does he prove that Americans were grieved by taxes? + +How does he establish the competence of the colony assemblies? + +How could the arguments have made "the conclusion irresistible"? +(Paragraph 112.) + +What principle of argument is stated in paragraph 114? + +In paragraph 127 is the one example cited enough to prove the rule? + +Find an example of argument from sign. Is it a relation of cause and +effect? Is it conclusive? + +In paragraph 129 what does Burke mention as arguments of value? + +What kind of arguments in paragraphs 128 to 136? What is the +conclusion? + +Whenever Burke states a general truth it forms a part of what? Supply +the other premise in five cases, and derive a conclusion. + +Does he ever use an argument from cause to establish a probability? To +establish a fact? + +Does he use deduction more frequently than sign? + +Does he seek for a climax in the arrangement of the parts of his +brief? + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER VII + + PARAGRAPHS + + + Definition. + +So far we have been dealing with whole compositions; we now take up +the study of paragraphs, sentences, and words. A paragraph in many +respects resembles a whole composition. It may be narrative, +descriptive, expositive, or argumentative. It must have a beginning, a +middle, and an end. It is constructed with regard to Unity, Mass, and +Coherence. And as a whole composition treats a single theme, so a +paragraph treats one division of a theme. It has been defined as a +composition in miniature. A paragraph is a sentence or a group of +sentences serving a single purpose in the development of a theme. The +purpose may be simply to announce the theme-subject, to make a +conclusion, to indicate a transition; but in the great majority of +cases its purpose is to treat a single topic. So true is this that +many authors, with good reason, define a paragraph as a group of +sentences treating a single topic. + + Long and Short Paragraphs. + +Nobody would have trouble in telling where on a page a paragraph began +and where it ended. The indention at the beginning, and usually the +incomplete line at the end, mark its visible limits. Unfortunately +there is no specified length after which the writer is to make a break +in the lines and begin a new paragraph. The length of a paragraph +depends on something deeper than appearances; as the topic requires a +lengthy or but a short treatment, as the paragraph may be a long +summary or a short transition, the length of a paragraph varies. Yet +there is one circumstance which should counsel an author to keep his +paragraphs within certain bounds: he should always have regard for his +readers. Readers shirk heavy labor. If a book or an article looks +hard, it is passed by; if it looks easy, it is read. If the paragraphs +be long and the page solid, the composition looks difficult; if the +paragraphs be short and the page broken, the piece looks easy. This +fact should advise a writer to make the page attractive by using short +paragraphs; provided, and the provision is important, he can so make +real paragraphs, divisions of composition that fully treat one topic. +These divisions may in reality be but one sentence, and they may just +as unquestionably be two pages of hard reading. + +Successive paragraphs, each more than a page of ordinary print in +length, repel as too hard; and a series of paragraphs of less than a +quarter of a page impresses a reader as scrappy, and the work seems to +lack the authority of complete treatment. An author will serve his +readers and himself best by so subdividing his subject that the +paragraphs are within these limits. + +The following paragraph is much too long and can with no difficulty be +subdivided. The paragraphs in the next group are too short, and they +are incomplete. + + "Keating rode up now, and the transaction became more + complicated. It ended in the purchase of the horse by Bryce + for a hundred and twenty, to be paid on the delivery of + Wildfire, safe and sound, at the Batherley stables. It did + occur to Dunsey that it might be wise for him to give up the + day's hunting, proceed at once to Batherley, and, having + waited for Bryce's return, hire a horse to carry him home + with the money in his pocket. But the inclination for a run, + encouraged by confidence in his luck, and by a draught of + brandy from his pocket-pistol at the conclusion of the + bargain, was not easy to overcome, especially with a horse + under him that would take the fences to the admiration of + the field. Dunstan, however, took one fence too many, and + got his horse pierced with a hedge-stake. His own + ill-favored person, which was quite unmarketable, escaped + without injury; but poor Wildfire, unconscious of his price, + turned on his flank, and painfully panted his last. It + happened that Dunstan, a short time before, having had to + get down to arrange his stirrup, had muttered a good many + curses at this interruption, which had thrown him in the + rear of the hunt near the moment of glory, and under this + exasperation had taken the fences more blindly. He would + soon have been up with the hounds again, when the fatal + accident happened; and hence he was between eager riders in + advance, not troubling themselves about what happened behind + them, and far-off stragglers, who were as likely as not to + pass quite aloof from the line of road in which Wildfire had + fallen. Dunstan, whose nature it was to care more for + immediate annoyances than for remote consequences, no sooner + recovered his legs, and saw that it was all over with + Wildfire, than he felt a satisfaction at the absence of + witnesses to a position which no swaggering could make + enviable. Reinforcing himself, after his shake, with a + little brandy and much swearing, he walked as fast as he + could to a coppice on his right hand, through which it + occurred to him that he could make his way to Batherley + without danger of encountering any member of the hunt. His + first intention was to hire a horse there and ride home + forthwith, for to walk many miles without a gun in his hand, + and along an ordinary road, was as much out of the question + to him as to other spirited young men of his kind. He did + not much mind about taking the bad news to Godfrey, for he + had to offer him at the same time the resource of Marner's + money; and if Godfrey kicked, as he always did, at the + notion of making a fresh debt, from which he himself got the + smallest share of advantage, why, he wouldn't kick long: + Dunstan felt sure he could worry Godfrey into anything. The + idea of Marner's money kept growing in vividness, now the + want of it had become immediate; the prospect of having to + make his appearance with the muddy boots of a pedestrian at + Batherley, and to encounter the grinning queries of + stablemen, stood unpleasantly in the way of his impatience + to be back at Raveloe and carry out his felicitous plan; and + a casual visitation of his waistcoat-pocket, as he was + ruminating, awakened his memory to the fact that the two or + three small coins his fore-finger encountered there were of + too pale a color to cover that small debt, without payment + of which the stable-keeper had declared he would never do + any more business with Dunsey Cass. After all, according to + the direction in which the run had brought him, he was not + so very much farther from home than he was from Batherley; + but Dunsey, not being remarkable for clearness of head, was + only led to this conclusion by the gradual perception that + there were other reasons for choosing the unprecedented + course of walking home. It was now nearly four o'clock, and + a mist was gathering: the sooner he got into the road the + better. He remembered having crossed the road and seen the + finger-post only a little while before Wildfire broke down; + so, buttoning his coat, twisting the lash of his + hunting-whip compactly round the handle, and rapping the + tops of his boots with a self-possessed air, as if to assure + himself that he was not at all taken by surprise, he set off + with the sense that he was undertaking a remarkable feat of + bodily exertion, which somehow, and at some time, he should + be able to dress up and magnify to the admiration of a + select circle at the Rainbow. When a young gentleman like + Dunsey is reduced to so exceptional a mode of locomotion as + walking, a whip in his hand is a desirable corrective to a + too bewildering dreamy sense of unwontedness in his + position; and Dunstan, as he went along through the + gathering mist, was always rapping his whip somewhere. It + was Godfrey's whip, which he had chosen to take without + leave because it had a gold handle; of course no one could + see, when Dunstan held it, that the name _Godfrey Cass_ was + cut in deep letters on that gold handle--they could only see + that it was a very handsome whip. Dunsey was not without + fear that he might meet some acquaintance in whose eyes he + would cut a pitiable figure, for mist is no screen when + people get close to each other; but when he at last found + himself in the well-known Raveloe lanes without having met a + soul, he silently remarked that that was part of his usual + good luck. But now the mist, helped by the evening darkness, + was more of a screen than he desired, for it hid the ruts + into which his feet were liable to slip--hid everything, so + that he had to guide his steps by dragging his whip along + the low bushes in advance of the hedgerow. He must soon, he + thought, be getting near the opening at the Stone-pits: he + should find it out by the break in the hedgerow. He found it + out, however, by another circumstance which he had not + expected--namely, by certain gleams of light, which he + presently guessed to proceed from Silas Marner's cottage. + That cottage and the money hidden within it had been in his + mind continually during his walk, and he had been imagining + ways of cajoling and tempting the weaver to part with the + immediate possession of his money for the sake of receiving + interest. Dunstan felt as if there must be a little + frightening added to the cajolery, for his own arithmetical + convictions were not clear enough to afford him any forcible + demonstration as to the advantages of interest; and as for + security, he regarded it vaguely as a means of cheating a + man by making him believe that he would be paid. Altogether, + the operation on the miser's mind was a task that Godfrey + would be sure to hand over to his more daring and cunning + brother: Dunstan had made up his mind to that; and by the + time he saw the light gleaming through the chinks of + Marner's shutters, the idea of a dialogue with the weaver + had become so familiar to him, that it occurred to him as + quite a natural thing to make the acquaintance forthwith. + There might be several conveniences attending this course: + the weaver had possibly got a lantern, and Dunstan was tired + of feeling his way. He was still nearly three quarters of a + mile from home, and the lane was becoming unpleasantly + slippery, for the mist was passing into rain. He turned up + the bank, not without some fear lest he might miss the right + way, since he was not certain whether the light were in + front or on the side of the cottage. But he felt the ground + before him cautiously with his whip-handle, and at last + arrived safely at the door. He knocked loudly, rather + enjoying the idea that the old fellow would be frightened at + the sudden noise. He heard no movement in reply: all was + silence in the cottage. Was the weaver gone to bed, then? If + so, why had he left a light? That was a strange + forgetfulness in a miser. Dunstan knocked still more loudly, + and, without pausing for a reply, pushed his fingers through + the latch-hole, intending to shake the door and pull the + latch-string up and down, not doubting that the door was + fastened. But, to his surprise, at this double motion the + door opened, and he found himself in front of a bright fire, + which lit up every corner of the cottage--the bed, the loom, + the three chairs, and the table--and showed him that Marner + was not there."[23] + + + "The country, all white, lit up by the fire, shone like a + cloth of silver tinted with red. + + "A bell, far off, began to toll. + + "The old 'Sauvage' remained standing before her ruined + dwelling, armed with her gun, her son's gun, for fear lest + one of those men might escape. + + "When she saw that it was ended, she threw her weapon into + the brasier. A loud report rang back. + + "People were coming, the peasants, the Prussians. + + "They found the woman seated on the trunk of a tree, calm + and satisfied. + + "A German officer, who spoke French like a son of France, + demanded of her:-- + + "'Where are your soldiers?' + + "She extended her thin arm towards the red heap of fire + which was gradually going out, and she answered with a + strong voice:-- + + "'There!' + + "They crowded round her. The Prussian asked:-- + + "'How did it take fire?' + + "She said:-- + + "'It was I who set it on fire.'"[24] + + Topic Sentence. + +Paragraphs are developments of a definite topic; and this topic is +generally announced at the beginning of the paragraph. In isolated +paragraphs, paragraphs that are indeed compositions in miniature, the +topic-sentence is the first sentence. The reader is then advised of +the subject of the discussion; and as sentence after sentence passes +him, he can relate it to the topic, and the thought is a cumulative +whole. If the subject be not announced, the individual sentences must +be held in mind until the reader catches the drift of the discussion, +or the author at last presents the topic. + +Below are four paragraphs, from different forms of discourse, all +having the topic-sentence at the beginning. + + "_But success or defeat was a minor matter to them, who had + only thought for the safety of those they loved._ Amelia, at + the news of the victory, became still more agitated even + than before. She was for going that moment to the army. She + besought her brother with tears to conduct her thither. Her + doubts and terrors reached their paroxysm; and the poor + girl, who for many hours had been plunged into stupor, raved + and ran hither and thither in hysteric insanity,--a piteous + sight. No man writhing in pain in the hard-fought field + fifteen miles off, where lay, after their struggles, so many + of the brave--no man suffered more keenly than this poor + harmless victim of the war. Jos could not bear the sight of + her pain. He left his sister in the charge of her stouter + female companion and descended once more to the threshold of + the hotel, where everybody still lingered, and talked, and + waited for more news."[25] + + + "_Yet the fact remains that the honey-bee is essentially a + wild creature, and never has been and cannot be thoroughly + domesticated._ Its proper home is the woods, and thither + every new swarm counts on going; and thither many do go in + spite of the care and watchfulness of the bee-keeper. If the + woods in any given locality are deficient in trees with + suitable cavities, the bees resort to all kinds of + makeshifts; they go into chimneys, into barns and outhouses, + under stones, into rocks, and so forth. Several chimneys in + my locality with disused flues are taken possession of by + colonies of bees nearly every season. One day, while + bee-hunting, I developed a line that went toward a farmhouse + where I had reason to believe no bees were kept. I followed + it up and questioned the farmer about his bees. He said he + kept no bees, but that a swarm had taken possession of his + chimney, and another had gone under the clapboards in the + gable end of his house. He had taken a large lot of honey + out of both places the year before. Another farmer told me + that one day his family had seen a number of bees examining + a knot-hole in the side of his house; the next day as they + were sitting down to dinner their attention was attracted by + a loud humming noise, when they discovered a swarm of bees + settling upon the side of the house and pouring into the + knot-hole. In subsequent years other swarms came to the same + place."[26] + + + "_It is important, therefore, to hold fast to this: that + poetry is at bottom a criticism of life;_ that the greatness + of a poet lies in his powerful and beautiful application of + ideas to life,--to the question: How to live. Morals are + often treated in a narrow and false fashion; they are bound + up with systems of thought and belief which have had their + day; they have fallen into the hands of pedants and + professional dealers; they grow tiresome to some of us. We + find attraction, at times, even in a poetry of revolt + against them; in a poetry which might take for its motto + Omar Khayyam's words: 'Let us make up in the tavern for the + time which we have wasted in the mosque.' Or we find + attractions in a poetry indifferent to them; in a poetry + where the contents may be what they will, but where the form + is studied and exquisite. We delude ourselves in either + case; and the best cure for our delusion is to let our minds + rest upon that great and inexhaustible word _life,_ until we + learn to enter into its meaning. A poetry of revolt against + moral ideas is a poetry of revolt against _life;_ a poetry + of indifference toward moral ideas is a poetry of + indifference toward _life._"[27] + + + "_The advantages arising from a system of copyright are + obvious._ It is desirable that we should have a supply of + good books: we cannot have such a supply unless men of + letters are liberally remunerated; and the least + objectionable way of remunerating them is by means of + copyright. You cannot depend for literary instruction and + amusement on the leisure of men occupied in the pursuits of + active life. Such men may occasionally produce compositions + of great merit. But you must not look to such men for works + which require deep meditation and long research. Works of + that kind you can expect only from persons who make + literature the business of their lives. Of these persons few + will be found among the rich and the noble. The rich and the + noble are not impelled to intellectual exertion by + necessity. They may be impelled to intellectual exertion by + the desire of distinguishing themselves, or by the desire of + benefiting the community. But it is generally within these + walls that they seek to signalize themselves and to serve + their fellow-creatures. Both their ambition and their public + spirit, in a country like this, naturally take a political + turn. It is then on men whose profession is literature, and + whose private means are not ample, that you must rely for a + supply of valuable books. Such men must be remunerated for + their literary labor. And there are only two ways in which + they can be remunerated. One of those ways is patronage; the + other is copyright."[28] + +Frequently the topic-sentence is delayed until after the connection +between what was said in the preceding paragraph and what will be said +has been made. To establish this relation requires sometimes but a +word or a short phrase, and sometimes sentences. In these cases the +topic-sentence follows the transition, and it may come as late as the +middle of the paragraph. + + "The crows we have always with us, but it is not every day + or every season that one sees an eagle. _Hence I must + preserve the memory of one I saw the last day I went + bee-hunting._ As I was laboring up the side of a mountain at + the head of a valley, the noble bird sprang from the top of + a dry tree above me and came sailing directly over my head. + I saw him bend his eye down upon me, and I could hear the + low hum of his plumage, as if the web of every quill in his + great wings vibrated in his strong, level flight. I watched + him as long as my eye could hold him. When he was fairly + clear of the mountain he began that sweeping spiral movement + in which he climbs the sky. Up and up he went without once + breaking his majestic poise till he appeared to sight some + far-off alien geography, when he bent his course + thitherward, and gradually vanished in the blue depths. The + eagle is a bird of large ideas, he embraces long distances; + the continent is his home. I never look upon one without + emotion; I follow him with my eye as long as I can. I think + of Canada, of the Great Lakes, of the Rocky Mountains, of + the wild and sounding sea-coast. The waters are his, and the + woods and the inaccessible cliffs. He pierces behind the + veil of the storm, and his joy is height and depth and vast + spaces."[29] + + + "Now these insinuations and questions shall be answered in + their proper places; here I will but say that I scorn and + detest lying, and quibbling, and double-tongued practice, + and slyness, and cunning, and smoothness, and cant, and + pretence, quite as much as any Protestants hate them; and I + pray to be kept from the snare of them. But all this is just + now by the bye; _my present subject is my Accuser;_ what I + insist upon here is this unmanly attempt of his, in his + concluding pages, to cut the ground from under my feet;--to + poison by anticipation the public mind against me, John + Henry Newman, and to infuse into the imaginations of my + readers suspicion and mistrust of everything that I may say + in reply to him. This I call poisoning the wells." + ("Apologia.") + +In exposition and argument, and sometimes in the other forms of +discourse, the topic-sentence may be at the end of the paragraph. This +is for emphasis in narration and description. In exposition and +argument it is better to lead up to an unwelcome truth than to +announce it at once. + + "Thus the matter of life, so far as we know it (and we have + no right to speculate on any other), breaks up, in + consequence of that continual death which is the condition + of its manifesting vitality, into carbonic acid, water, and + nitrogenous compounds which certainly possess no properties + but those of ordinary matter. And out of these same forms of + ordinary matter, and from none which are simpler, the + vegetable world builds up all the protoplasm which keeps the + animal world a-going. _Plants are the accumulators of the + power which animals distribute and disperse._"[30] + + No Topic-Sentence. + +Sometimes no topic-sentence appears in the paragraph. In such a case +it is easily discovered; or at times it is too fragile to be +compressed into any definite shape--a feeling, or a sentiment too +delicate, too volatile for expression. A paragraph with no +topic-sentence is most common in narration and description. + + "The tide of color has ebbed from the upper sky. In the west + the sea of sunken fire draws back; and the stars leap forth, + and tremble, and retire before the advancing moon, who slips + the silver train of cloud from her shoulders, and, with her + foot upon the pine-tops, surveys heaven." ("Richard + Feverel," by George Meredith.) + + The Plan. + +Whether the topic form a part of the paragraph or not, it should be +distinctly before the writer, and he should write upon the topic. +Nothing contributes so much to the success of paragraphs as a definite +treatment of one single topic. The paragraph is the development, the +growth of this topic, as the plant is the development of its seed. +Moreover, the development is according to a definite plan. The +different steps are not usually laid out, as was done in the outline +of a theme. Genung, in the "Practical Elements of Rhetoric," presents +what he calls a typical form for a paragraph. It shows that a +paragraph which is fully developed is in reality a miniature theme. It +is as follows:-- + + The Subject proposed. + + I. Whatever is needed to explain the subject. + Repetition. + Obverse. + Definition. + II. Whatever is needed to establish the subject. + Exemplification or detail. + Illustration. + Proof. +III. Whatever is needed to apply the subject. + Result or consequence. + Enforcement. + Summary or recapitulation. + + Kinds of Paragraphs. + +This typical form of a paragraph embodies all that paragraphs may do, +and it is the logical arrangement. However, it is rare, perhaps it +never occurs, that a paragraph is found having all these elements +developed. The purpose determines which part of a paragraph should +receive the amplification. If it be narrative or descriptive, there is +no definition or proof; but the development by details will +predominate. In an argument, definition and proof will form the large +part of the paragraphs. Again, the position in the theme determines +what kind of a paragraph should be used. In exposition the first +paragraphs would be devoted to stating the proposition, and would +therefore be largely given up to definition and repetition; the body +would be especially paragraphs of detail and illustration; while the +closing paragraph would be taken up with results and a summary. As one +of the elements of a paragraph has been especially developed, +paragraphs have been named paragraphs of repetition,[31] of the +obverse, of details, of instances or examples, and of comparisons. +Such a division is somewhat mechanical; but for purposes of study and +for conscious practice in construction it has value. + + Details. + +The paragraph of details is by far the most common. It is found in all +kinds of discourse. It originates from the fact that persons generally +give the general truth first and follow this statement with the +details or particulars. Whether the storyteller begins by saying, "Now +I'll tell you just how they happened to be there;" or the traveler +writes, "From the Place de la Concorde one has about him magnificent +views," or "There were many unfortunate circumstances about the +Dreyfus affair;" in each case he will follow the general statement of +the opening sentence with sentences going into particulars or details. + + _"All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet + schoolroom._ The scholars were hurried through their lessons + without stopping at trifles; those who were nimble skipped + over half with impunity, and those who were tardy had a + smart application now and then in the rear, to quicken their + speed or help them over a tall word. Books were flung aside + without being put away on the shelves, inkstands were + overturned, benches thrown down, and the whole school was + turned loose an hour before the usual time, bursting forth + like a legion of young imps, yelping and racketing about the + green in joy at their early emancipation."[32] + + + "It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of + the Heer Van Tassel, _which he found thronged with the pride + and flower of the adjacent country._ Old farmers, a spare + leathern-faced race, in homespun coats and breeches, blue + stocking, huge shoes, and magnificent pewter buckles. Their + brisk, withered little dames, in close crimped caps, + long-waisted short-gowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors + and pincushions, and gay calico pockets hanging on the + outside. Buxom lasses, almost as antiquated as their + mothers, excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or + perhaps a white frock gave symptoms of city innovation. The + sons, in short square-skirted coats, with rows of stupendous + brass buttons, and their hair generally queued in the + fashion of the times, especially if they could procure an + eelskin for the purpose, it being esteemed throughout the + country as a potent nourisher and strengthener of the + hair."[32] + + + "The enemies of the Parliament, indeed, rarely choose to + take issue in the great points of the question. They content + themselves with exposing some of _the crimes and follies_ to + which public commotions necessarily give birth. They bewail + the unmerited fate of Strafford. They execrate the lawless + violence of the army. They laugh at the scriptural names of + the preachers. Major-generals fleecing their districts; + soldiers reveling on the spoils of a ruined peasantry; + upstarts, enriched by the public plunder, taking possession + of the hospitable firesides and hereditary trees of the old + gentry; boys smashing the beautiful windows of cathedrals; + Quakers riding naked through the market-place; + Fifth-monarchy men shouting for King Jesus; agitators + lecturing from the tops of tubs on the fate of Agag,--all + these, they tell us, were the offspring of the great + Rebellion."[33] + +In narration and in a short paragraph of description this paragraph of +details is frequently without a topic-sentence. The circumstances that +make up a transaction are grouped, but there is no need of writing, "I +will now detail this." In the following, since the paragraph is +plainly about the preparation for the fight, it is unnecessary to say +so. Such a patent statement would hinder the movement of the story. + + "Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case + they should run in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered + up into the berth with an armful of pistols and something of + a heavy heart, and set open the window where I was to watch. + It was a small part of the deck that I could overlook, but + enough for our purpose. The sea had gone down, and the wind + was steady and kept the sails quiet; so that there was a + great stillness on the ship, in which I made sure I heard + the sound of muttering voices. A little after, and there + came a clash of steel upon the deck, by which I knew they + were dealing out the cutlasses, and one had been let fall; + and after that silence again."[34] + + Comparisons. + +The paragraph of comparisons tells what a thing is like and what a +thing is not like. It is much used in description and exposition. It +is often the clearest way to describe an object or to explain a +proposition. One thing may be likened to a number of things, drawing +from each a quality that more definitely pictures it; or it may be +compared with but one, and the likeness may be followed out to the +limit of its value. In the same manner it is often of value to tell +what a thing or a proposition does not resemble, to contrast it with +one or more ideas, and by this means exclude what might otherwise be +confusing. Note that after the negative comparison the paragraph +closes with what it is like, or what it is. + +From Macaulay's long comparison of the writings of Milton and Dante, +one paragraph is enough to illustrate the use of contrast. + + "Now let us _compare_ with the exact details of Dante the + dim intimations of Milton. We will cite a few examples. The + English poet has never thought of taking the measure of + Satan. He gives us merely a vague idea of vast bulk. In one + passage the fiend lies stretched out, huge in length, + floating many a rood, equal in size to the earth-born + enemies of Jove, or to the sea monster which the mariner + mistakes for an island. When he addresses himself to battle + against the guardian angels, he stands like Teneriffe or + Atlas; his stature reaches the sky. Contrast with these + descriptions the lines in which Dante has described the + gigantic spectre of Nimrod: 'His face seemed to me as long + and as broad as the ball of St. Peter's at Rome, and his + other limbs were in proportion; so that the bank, which + concealed him from the waist downwards, nevertheless showed + so much of him that three tall Germans would in vain have + attempted to reach to his hair.'" ("Essay on Milton.") + +The following indicates the use of similarity. + + "It is the character of such revolutions that we always see + the worst of them at first. Till men have been some time + free, they know not how to use their freedom. The natives of + wine countries are generally sober. In climates where wine + is a rarity intemperance abounds. A newly liberated people + may be _compared to_ a northern army encamped on the Rhine + or the Xeres. It is said that, when soldiers in such a + situation first find themselves able to indulge without + restraint in such a rare and expensive luxury, nothing is to + be seen but intoxication. Soon, however, plenty teaches + discretion, and, after wine has been for a few months their + daily fare, they become more temperate than they had ever + been in their own country. In the same manner, the final and + permanent fruits of liberty are wisdom, moderation, and + mercy. Its immediate effects are often atrocious crimes, + conflicting errors, skepticism on points the most clear, + dogmatism on points the most mysterious. It is just at this + crisis that its enemies love to exhibit it. They pull down + the scaffolding from the half-finished edifice; they point + to the flying dust, the falling bricks, the comfortless + rooms, the frightful irregularity of the whole appearance, + and then ask in scorn where the promised splendor and + comfort is to be found. If such miserable sophisms were to + prevail, there would never be a good house or a good + government in the world." ("Essay on Milton," by Lord + Macaulay.) + + Repetition. + +A third method of developing a paragraph from a topic-sentence is by +repetition. Simply to repeat in other words would be useless +redundancy; but so to repeat that with each repetition the thought +broadens or deepens is valuable in proposing a subject or explaining +it. No person has attained greater skill in repetition than Matthew +Arnold, and much of his clearness comes from his repetition, often of +the very same phrases. + + "Wordsworth has been in his grave for some thirty years, and + certainly his lovers and admirers cannot flatter themselves + that this great and steady light of glory as yet shines over + him. He is not fully recognized at home; he is not + recognized at all abroad. Yet I firmly believe that the + poetical performance of Wordsworth is, after that of + Shakespeare and Milton, of which all the world now + recognizes the worth, undoubtedly the most considerable in + our language from the Elizabethan age to the present time. + Chaucer is anterior; and on other grounds, too, he cannot + well be brought into the comparison. But taking the roll of + our chief poetical names, besides Shakespeare and Milton, + from the age of Elizabeth downwards, and going through + it,--Spenser, Dryden, Pope, Gray, Goldsmith, Cowper, Burns, + Coleridge, Scott, Campbell, Moore, Byron, Shelley, Keats (I + mention those only who are dead),--I think it certain that + Wordsworth's name deserves to stand, and will finally stand, + above them all. Several of the poets named have gifts and + excellencies which Wordsworth has not. But taking the + performance of each as a whole, I say that Wordsworth seems + to me to have left a body of poetical work superior in + power, in interest, in the qualities which give enduring + freshness, to that which any one of the others has left." + ("Essay on Wordsworth," by Matthew Arnold.) + + + "Perhaps no person can be a poet, or can even enjoy poetry, + without a certain unsoundness of mind, if anything which + gives so much pleasure ought to be called unsoundness. By + poetry we mean not all writing in verse, nor even all good + writing in verse. Our definition excludes many metrical + compositions which, on other grounds, deserve the highest + praise. By poetry, we mean the art of employing words in + such a manner as to produce an illusion on the imagination, + the art of doing by means of words what the painter does by + means of colors. Thus the greatest of the poets has + described it, in lines universally admired for the vigor and + felicity of their diction, and still more valuable on + account of the just notion which they convey of the art in + which he excelled:-- + + 'As imagination bodies forth + The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen + Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing + A local habitation and a name.' + + These are the fruits of the 'fine frenzy' which he ascribes + to the poet,--a fine frenzy, doubtless, but still a frenzy. + Truth, indeed, is essential to poetry, but it is the truth + of madness. The reasonings are just, but the premises are + false. After the first suppositions have been made, + everything ought to be consistent; but those first + suppositions require a degree of credulity which almost + amounts to a partial and temporary derangement of the + intellect. Hence, of all people, children are the most + imaginative. They abandon themselves without reserve to + every illusion. Every image which is strongly presented to + their mental eye produces in them the effect of reality. No + man, whatever his sensibility may be, is ever affected by + Hamlet or Lear as a little girl is affected by the story of + poor Red Riding Hood. She knows it is all false, that wolves + cannot speak, that there are no wolves in England. Yet in + spite of her knowledge she believes; she weeps; she + trembles; she dares not go into a dark room lest she should + feel the teeth of the monster at her throat. Such is the + despotism of the imagination over uncultivated minds." + ("Essay on Milton," by Macaulay.) + + Obverse. + +A fourth method of building up a paragraph from a topic-sentence +consists in telling what it is not; that is, giving the obverse. This +is very effective in argument, and is employed in exposition and +description. The obverse usually follows a positive statement, and +again is followed by the affirmative; that is, first what it is, then +what it is not, and last, what it is again. In the following +description by Ruskin, the method appears and reappears. Notice the +"nots" and "buts," indicating the change from the negative to the +positive statement. It would be a sacrilege to omit the last +paragraph, though it does not illustrate this manner of development. + + "For all other rivers there is a surface, and an underneath, + and a vaguely displeasing idea of the bottom. But the Rhone + flows like one lambent jewel; its surface is nowhere, its + ethereal self is everywhere, the iridescent rush and + translucent strength of it blue to the shore, and radiant to + the depth. + + "Fifteen feet thick, not of flowing, but flying water; not + water, neither--melted glacier, rather, one should call it; + the force of the ice is with it, and the wreathing of the + clouds, the gladness of the sky, and the continuance of + Time. + + "Waves of clear sea are, indeed, lovely to watch, but they + are always coming or gone, never in any taken shape to be + seen for a second. But here was one mighty wave that was + always itself, and every fluted swirl of it, constant as the + wreathing of a shell. No wasting away of the fallen foam, no + pause for gathering of power, no helpless ebb of discouraged + recoil; but alike through bright day and lulling night, the + never-pausing plunge, and never-fading flash, and + never-hushing whisper, and, while the sun was up, the + ever-answering glow of unearthly aquamarine, ultramarine, + violet-blue, gentian-blue, peacock-blue, river-of-paradise + blue, glass of a painted window melted in the sun, and the + witch of the Alps flinging the spun tresses of it forever + from her snow. + + "The innocent way, too, in which the river used to stop to + look into every little corner. Great torrents always seem + angry, and great rivers are often too sullen; but there is + no anger, no disdain in the Rhone. It seemed as if the + mountain stream was in mere bliss at recovering itself again + out of the lake-sleep, and raced because it rejoiced in + racing, fain yet to return and stay. There were pieces of + wave that danced all day, as if Perdita were looking on to + learn; there were little streams that skipped like lambs and + leaped like chamois; there were pools that shook the + sunshine all through them, and were rippled in layers of + overlaid ripples, like crystal sand; there were currents + that twisted the light into golden braids, and inlaid the + threads with turquoise enamel; there were strips of stream + that had certainly above the lake been mill-stream, and were + looking busily for mills to turn again; and there were + shoots of stream that had once shot fearfully into the air, + and now sprang up again, laughing, that they had only fallen + a foot or two;--and in the midst of all the gay glittering + and eddied lingering, the noble bearing by of the midmost + depth, so mighty, yet so terrorless and harmless, with its + swallows skimming in spite of petrels, and the dear old + decrepit town as safe in the embracing sweep of it as if it + were set in a brooch of sapphires."[35] + +This extract from Burke's speech is a good example of the same method. + + "I put this consideration of the present and the growing + numbers in the front of our deliberation, because, Sir, this + consideration will make it evident to a blunter discernment + than yours, that _no_ partial, narrow, contracted, pinched, + occasional system will be at all suitable to such an object. + It will show you that it is _not_ to be considered as one of + those _minima_ which are out of the eye and consideration of + the law; _not_ a paltry excrescence of the state; _not_ a + mean dependent, who may be neglected with little damage and + provoked with little danger. It will prove that some degree + of care and caution is required in the handling such an + object; it will show that you ought not, in reason, to + trifle with so large a mass of the interests and feelings of + the human race. You could at no time do so without guilt; + and be assured you will not be able to do it long with + impunity."[36] + + Examples. + +A fifth method of expanding a topic is by means of illustrations and +examples. It is used largely in establishing or enforcing a +proposition. The author selects one example, or perhaps more than one, +to illustrate his proposition. Note the words that may introduce +specific instances: _for example, for instance, to illustrate, a case +in point,_ and so forth. + +In the first of the following quotations, Cardinal Newman is showing +that simply to acquire is not true mental enlargement. The paragraph +is made up of a series of instances. The second paragraph is by +Macaulay. + + "The _case is the same still more strikingly when_ the + persons in question are beyond dispute men of inferior + powers and deficient education. Perhaps they have been much + in foreign countries, and they receive, in a passive, + otiose, unfruitful way, the various facts which are forced + upon them there. Seafaring men, _for example,_ range from + one end of the earth to the other; but the multiplicity of + external objects which they have encountered forms no + symmetrical and consistent picture upon their imagination; + they see the tapestry of human life, as it were, on the + wrong side, and it tells no story. They sleep, and they rise + up, and they find themselves, now in Europe, now in Asia; + they see visions of great cities and wild regions; they are + in the marts of commerce, or amid the islands of the South; + they gaze on Pompey's Pillar, or on the Andes; and nothing + which meets them carries them forward or backward, to any + idea beyond itself. Nothing has a drift or relation; nothing + has a history or a promise. Everything stands by itself and + comes and goes in its turn, like the shifting scenes of a + show, which leave the spectator where he was. Perhaps you + are near such a man on a particular occasion, and expect him + to be shocked or perplexed at something which occurs; but + one thing is much the same to him as another; or, if he is + perplexed, it is as not knowing what to say, whether it is + right to admire, or to ridicule, or to disapprove, while + conscious that some expression of opinion is expected from + him; for in fact he has no standard of judgment at all, and + no landmarks to guide him to a conclusion. Such is mere + acquisition, and, I repeat, no one would dream of calling it + philosophy." ("Idea of a University," by Cardinal Newman.) + + + "I will give _another instance._ One of the most + instructive, interesting, and delightful books in our + language is Boswell's 'Life of Johnson.' Now it is well + known that Boswell's eldest son considered this book, + considered the whole relation of Boswell to Johnson, as a + blot in the escutcheon of the family. He thought, not + perhaps altogether without reason, that his father had + exhibited himself in a ludicrous and degrading light. And + thus he became so sore and irritable that at last he could + not bear to hear the 'Life of Johnson' mentioned. Suppose + that the law had been what my honorable and learned friend + wishes to make it. Suppose that the copyright of Boswell's + 'Life of Johnson' had belonged, as it well might, during + sixty years, to Boswell's eldest son. What would have been + the consequence? An unadulterated copy of the finest + biographical work in the world would have been as scarce as + the first edition of Camden's 'Britannia.'" (Speech, + "Copyright," by Macaulay.) + + Combines Two or More Forms. + +As was said at the beginning, a paragraph is seldom made exclusively +of one form. One part of the typical paragraph is usually developed +more than any other and gives to the paragraph its character and its +name. By far the most common variety of paragraph is that which +combines two or more of the other forms. It is not necessary to cite +examples; they are everywhere. Though combination is the commonest +method of development, it should be guarded. It is a poor paragraph +that combines the forms indiscriminately. It should follow some plan; +and the best plan is the one already given in the typical paragraph. + +All paragraphs, whatever be the special method of development, are +governed by the three principles which have guided in the structure of +whole compositions. Whether the purpose be to prove or to narrate, to +enforce a conclusion or to illustrate, if a paragraph is to produce +its greatest effect, it should have unity, it should be well massed, +and it should be coherent. + +It is not necessary now to define unity in a paragraph; the need is +rather to notice the offenses against it that frequently occur. They +are manifestly two: too much may be included, and not all may be +included. The accompanying circumstance of the one, not necessarily +the cause, however, is often a very long paragraph, and of the other a +short paragraph. + + Unity. + +Violations of the unity of a paragraph most frequently result from +including more than belongs there. The theme has been selected; it is +narrow and concise. When one begins to write, many things crowd in +pell-mell. Impressions, which come and go, we hardly know how or why, +are the only products of most minds. Impressions, not shaped and +logical thoughts, make up the mixed confusion frequently called a +theme. The writer puts down enough of these impressions to make a +paragraph, and then goes on to do it again, fancying that so he is +really paragraphing. Even should he keep within the limits of his +theme, he cannot in this way paragraph. As everything upon a subject +does not belong in a theme, so everything in a theme may not be +introduced indiscriminately into any paragraph. + +The other danger lies in the short paragraph. It does not allow a +writer room to say all he has to say upon the topic, so it runs over +into the next paragraph. All of the thought-paragraph should appear in +one division on the page. This error is not so common as the former. +Examples of each are to be found on pages 152-157. + + Need of Outline. + +The remedy for this confusion clearly is hard thinking; and a great +assistance is the outline. Before a word is written, think through the +theme; get clearly the purpose of each paragraph in the development of +the whole. Then write just what the paragraph was intended to include, +and no more. More will be suggested because the parts of a whole theme +are all closely related, but that more belongs somewhere else. Make a +sharp outline, and follow it. + + Mass. + +A paragraph should be so arranged that the parts which arrest the eye +will be important.[37] When a person glances down a page, his eye +rests upon the beginning and the end of each paragraph. A reader going +rapidly through an article to get what he wants of it does not read +religiously every word; he knows that he will be directed to the +contents of each paragraph by the first and last sentences. If a +writer considers his readers, if he desires to arrange his paragraph +so that it will be most effective, he will have at these points such +sentences as will accurately indicate its contents and the trend of +the discussion; and he will form these sentences so well that they +will deserve the attention which is given them by reason of their +position in the paragraph. + + What begins and what ends a Paragraph? + +What are the words that deserve the distinction of opening and closing +a paragraph? As in the theme, so in a paragraph, the first thing is to +announce the subject of discussion. When the subject is simply +announced without giving any indication as to the drift of the +discussion, the conclusion of the discussion is generally stated in +the last sentence. Burke says, "The first thing we have to consider +with regard to the nature of the object is the number of people in the +colonies." He concludes the paragraph with, "Whilst we are discussing +any given magnitude, they are grown to it. Whilst we spend our time in +deliberating on the mode of governing two millions, we shall find we +have millions more to manage. Your children do not grow faster from +infancy to manhood than they spread from families to communities, and +from villages to nations." In other cases the opening sentence states +the conclusion at which the paragraph will arrive. Then the closing +sentence may be a repetition of the opening or topic sentence; or it +may be one of the points used to exemplify or establish the +proposition which opens the paragraph. Again, in a short paragraph the +topic need not be announced at the beginning; in this case it should +be given in the concluding sentence. Or, should the topic be given in +the opening sentence of a short paragraph, it is unnecessary to repeat +it at the end. In any case, whether the paragraph opens with a simple +announcement of the topic to be discussed, or with the conclusion +which the paragraph aims to explain, establish, or illustrate, or +whether it closes with the conclusion of the whole matter, or with one +of the main points in the development, the sentences at the beginning +and the end of a paragraph should be strong sentences worthy of their +distinguished position. + +In the first paragraph below, there is a proposition in the first +sentence and its repetition in the last. In the two following, though +they close with no general statement, the specific assertions used to +substantiate and illustrate the first sentences are strong and carry +in themselves the truth of the topic-sentence. + + "The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character, + and formed, indeed, a part of it. It was bold, manly, and + energetic; and such the crisis required. When public bodies + are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great + interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing + is valuable in speech farther than as it is connected with + high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, + and earnestness are the qualities which produce conviction. + True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It + cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for + it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be + marshaled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must + exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. + Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of + declamation, all may aspire to it; they cannot reach it. It + comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain + from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, + with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught + in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied + contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men when their own + lives and the fate of their wives, their children, and their + country hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have + lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate + oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked + and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then + patriotism is eloquent; then self-devotion is eloquent. The + clear conception, outrunning the deductions of logic, the + high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, + speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing + every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward + to his object--this, this is eloquence: or rather it is + something greater and higher than all eloquence; it is + action, noble, sublime, godlike action."[38] + + + "The prejudiced man travels, and then everything he sees in + Catholic countries only serves to make him more thankful + that his notions are so true; and the more he sees of + Popery, the more abominable he feels it to be. If there is + any sin, any evil in a foreign population, though it be + found among Protestants also, still Popery is clearly the + cause of it. If great cities are the schools of vice, it is + owing to Popery. If Sunday is profaned, if there is a + carnival, it is the fault of the Catholic Church. Then, + there are no private houses, as in England; families live in + staircases; see what it is to belong to a Popish country. + Why do the Roman laborers wheel their barrows so slow in the + Forum? why do the Lazzaroni of Naples lie so listlessly on + the beach? why, but because they are under the _malaria_ of + a false religion. Rage, as is well known, is in the Roman + like a falling sickness, almost as if his will had no part + in it and he had no responsibility; see what it is to be a + Papist. Bloodletting is as frequent and as much a matter of + course in the South as hair-cutting in England; it is a + trick borrowed from the convents, when they wish to tame + down refractory spirits."[39] + + + "Excuse me, Sir, if turning from such thoughts I resume this + comparative view once more. You have seen it on a large + scale; look at it on a small one. I will point out to your + attention a particular instance of it in the single province + of Pennsylvania. In the year 1704 that province called for + L11,459 in value of your commodities, native and foreign. + This was the whole. What did it demand in 1772? Why, nearly + fifty times as much; for in that year the export to + Pennsylvania was L507,909, nearly equal to the export to all + the colonies together in the first period."[40] + +The following illustrates the weakness of closing with a specific +instance when it does not rise to the level of the remainder of a +paragraph. The last sentence would better be omitted. + + "We often hear of the magical influence of poetry. The + expression in general means nothing; but, applied to the + writings of Milton, it is most appropriate. His poetry acts + like an incantation. Its merit lies less in its obvious + meaning than in its occult power. There would seem, at first + sight, to be no more in his words than in other words. But + they are words of enchantment. No sooner are they pronounced + than the past is present and the distant near. New forms of + beauty start at once into existence, and all the + burial-places of memory give up their dead. Change the + structure of the sentence, substitute one synonym for + another, and the whole effect is destroyed. The spell loses + its power; and he who should then hope to conjure with it + would find himself as much mistaken as Cassim in the Arabian + tale, when he stood crying, 'Open Wheat,' 'Open Barley,' to + the door which obeyed no sound but 'Open Sesame.' In the + miserable failure of Dryden in his attempt to translate into + his own diction some parts of the 'Paradise Lost' is a + remarkable instance of this." ("Essay on Milton," by + Macaulay.) + + Length of opening and closing Sentences. + +By examination, one finds that the first sentence of a paragraph of +exposition and of argument is usually a terse statement of the +proposition; and that after the proposition has been established there +follows a longer sentence gathering up all the points of the +discussion into a full, rounded period which forms a suitable climax +and conclusion of the paragraph. Of Macaulay's "Milton" one is quite +inside the truth when he says that of those paragraphs containing an +opening topic-sentence and its restatement as a conclusion, the +closing sentence is the longer in the ratio of two to one. In Burke's +"Conciliation," the ratio rises as high as four to one. There are, +however, exceptions to the rule. Paragraphs sometimes close with a +shorter statement of the proposition, a sort of aphorism or epigram. +As this kind of sentence is fascinating, some books have said that +paragraphs should close so; that it is like cracking a whip, and gives +a snap to the paragraph not gained in any other way. Even if readers +enjoyed having paragraphs close in this cracking manner, it must be +borne in mind that not all conclusions are capable of such a +statement, and, what is worse, that the tendency to seek for epigrams +leads to untruth and a degenerated form of witticism. Such forced +sentences are only half truths, or they are a bit of cheap repartee. +Such a close is effective, if the whole truth can be so expressed; but +to seek for such sentences is dangerous. The best rule is the one +already stated; it applies to the long sentence and the short sentence +alike. It is that a paragraph should close with words that deserve +distinction. + + Proportion. + +The body of a paragraph should have the matter so proportioned that +the more important points shall receive the longer treatment. In a +paragraph of proof, details, or comparison, that point in the proof, +that particular, that part of the comparison, which for the specific +purpose has most significance, should have proportionately fuller +treatment. It is the same principle already noticed in exposition. +Indicate the relative importance of topics in a paragraph by the +relative number of words used in their treatment. + +For mass in a paragraph, then, keep in mind that the last sentence +should contain matter and form worthy of the position it occupies; +that the position of next importance is at the beginning; and that the +relative importance of the matters in the body of a paragraph is +pretty correctly indicated by the relative length of treatment. + + Coherence and Clearness. + +Coherence, the third principle of structure, is the most important; +and it is the most difficult to apply. For one can make a beginning +and an end, he can select his materials so that there is unity, but to +make all the parts stick together, to arrange the sentences so that +one grows naturally from the preceding and leads into the next, +requires nice adjustment of parts, and rewriting many times. How +essential coherence in a paragraph is, simply to make the thought easy +to grasp, may be seen by taking a paragraph to pieces and mixing up +its sentences, and at the same time removing all words that bind its +parts together. The following can hardly be understood at all, but in +its original condition it is so clear that it cannot be misunderstood. +If the sentences be arranged in the following order, the original +paragraph will appear: 1, 5, 3, 9, 8, 6, 2, 4, 7, 10. + + 1. "The first question which obviously suggests itself is + how these wonderful moral effects are to be wrought under + the instrumentality of the physical sciences. 2. To know is + one thing, to do is another; the two things are altogether + distinct. 3. Does Sir Robert Peel mean to say, that whatever + be the occult reasons for the result, so it is; you have but + to drench the popular mind with physics, and moral and + religious advancement follows on the whole, in spite of + individual failures? 4. A man knows he should get up in the + morning,--he lies abed; he knows he should not lose his + temper, yet he cannot keep it. 5. Can the process be + analyzed and drawn out, or does it act like a dose or a + charm which comes into general use empirically? 6. It is + natural and becoming to seek for some clear idea of the + meaning of so dark an oracle. 7. A laboring man knows he + should not go to the ale-house, and his wife knows she + should not filch when she goes out charing, but, + nevertheless, in these cases, the consciousness of a duty is + not all one with the performance of it. 8. Or rather, does + he mean, that, from the nature of the case, he who is imbued + with science and literature, unless adverse influences + interfere, cannot but be a better man? 9. Yet when has the + experiment been tried on so large a scale as to justify such + anticipations? 10. There are, then, large families of + instances, to say the least, in which men may become wiser, + without becoming better; what, then, is the meaning of this + great maxim in the mouth of its promulgators?" + +Coherence, so necessary to the easy understanding of a paragraph, is +gained in three ways: by the order in which the sentences are +arranged; by the use of parallel constructions for parallel ideas; and +by the use of connectives. + + Two Arrangements of Sentences in a Paragraph. + +Material which has been selected with regard to the principle of unity +is all informed with one idea. Yet though one thought runs through it +all and unites it, the parts do not stand in an equally close relation +to the conclusion, nor is each part equally related to every other +part. Had they been, the last paragraph quoted would have been as well +in one order as another. Rather the sentences seem to fall into groups +of more closely related matters; or at times one sentence seems to +follow as the direct consequence of the preceding sentence. With +respect to the way in which the sentences contribute to the topic of +the paragraph, whether the topic be announced first or last, sentences +may be said to contribute directly to the proposition or indirectly. +If directly, the paragraph is a collection of sentences, each having a +common purpose, each having a similar relation to the topic, arranged, +as it were, side by side, and advancing as one body to the conclusion. +This may be termed an individual arrangement of sentences, since as +individuals they each contribute to the topic. The conclusion derives +its force from the combined mass of all. If indirectly, the paragraph +is a series of sentences, each growing out of the one preceding it, +each receiving a push from the sentence before, and the last having +the combined force of all. This may be styled a serial arrangement of +sentences, since in such a case each contributes to the topic only as +one in a chain. The former overcomes by its mass; the latter strikes +by reason of its velocity. The one advances in rank; the other +advances in single file. + +An illustration of each will help to an understanding of this. In the +following paragraph from Macaulay's essay on Milton, each of the +details mentioned points directly to "those days" when the race became +a "byword and a shaking of the head to the nations." Their aggregate +mass enforces the topic of the paragraph. They are all one body +equally informed with the common principle which is the topic. Notice +that one sentence is not the source of the next, but that all the +sentences stand in a similar relation to the conclusion. This +arrangement is common in description. In the second paragraph, from +Irving's "Legend of Sleepy Hollow," each detail contributes to the +appearance of Ichabod, not through some other sentence, but directly. + + "Then came those days, never to be recalled without a blush, + the days of servitude without loyalty and sensuality without + love; of dwarfish talents and gigantic vices; the paradise + of cold hearts and narrow minds; the golden age of the + coward, the bigot, and the slave. The king cringed to his + rival that he might trample on his people; sank into a + viceroy of France, and pocketed with complacent infamy her + degrading insults and her more degrading gold. The caresses + of harlots and the jests of buffoons regulated the policy of + the state. The government had just ability enough to + deceive, and just religion enough to persecute. The + principles of liberty were the scoff of every grinning + courtier, and the Anathema Maranatha of every fawning dean. + In every high place, worship was paid to Charles and James, + Belial and Moloch; and England propitiated those obscene and + cruel idols with the blood of her best and bravest children. + Crime succeeded to crime, and disgrace to disgrace, till the + race, accursed of God and man, was a second time driven + forth to wander on the face of the earth, and to be a byword + and a shaking of the head to the nations." + + + "Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode + with short stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to + the pommel of the saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like + grasshoppers'; he carried his whip perpendicularly in his + hand, like a sceptre, and as his horse jogged on, the motion + of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. + A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his + scanty strip of forehead might be called, and the skirts of + his black coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail. + Such was the appearance of Ichabod and his steed as they + shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it was + altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in + broad daylight." + +The following paragraph in the essay on Milton contains an example of +the second method of arrangement. Each sentence is the result of the +one before it. The sentences advance in single file. Notice that each +sentence does not contribute directly to the conclusion, but that it +acts through the succeeding sentence. The phrases from which a +succeeding sentence springs are in small capitals; and the phrases +which refer back are in italics. + + "Most of the remarks which we have hitherto made on the + public character of Milton apply to him only as one of A + LARGE BODY. WE SHALL PROCEED to notice some of the + peculiarities which distinguished him _from his + contemporaries._ _And for that purpose_ it is necessary to + take a short survey of THE PARTIES into which the political + world was at that time divided. We must premise that our + observations are intended to apply only to THOSE WHO + ADHERED, from a sincere preference, to one or to the other + side. In days of public commotion, _every faction,_ like an + Oriental army, is attended by a crowd of camp-followers, a + useless and heartless RABBLE, who prowl round its line of + march in the hope of picking up something under its + protection, but desert it in the day of battle, and often + join to exterminate it after defeat. England, at the time of + which we are treating, abounded with fickle and _selfish + politicians,_ who transferred their support to every + government as it rose; who kissed the hand of the king in + 1640, and spat in his face in 1649; who shouted with equal + glee when Cromwell was inaugurated in Westminster Hall, and + when he was dug up to be hanged at Tyburn; who dined on + calves' heads or broiled rumps, and cut down oak branches or + stuck them up, as circumstances altered, without the + slightest shame or repugnance. _These_ we leave out of + account. We take our estimate of parties from _those who_ + really deserve to be called partisans." + +(For other examples of the same arrangement see the next quotation, +and also a paragraph quoted on page 222.) + +Paragraphs are most frequently found to combine the two methods. In +the following, notice that the second sentence grows out of the first, +the third from the second, and so the serial arrangement is maintained +until the eighth is reached. Sentences nine, ten, eleven, and twelve +give body to sentence eight. Then begins again the regular succession. +Sentences sixteen to twenty are the outgrowth of the phrase "on his +account." + + "1. The Puritans were men whose minds had derived a peculiar + character from the daily contemplation of superior beings + and eternal interests. 2. Not content with acknowledging in + general terms an overruling Providence, they habitually + ascribed every event to the will of the Great Being, for + whose power nothing was too vast, for whose inspection + nothing was too minute. 3. To know Him, to serve Him, to + enjoy Him, was with them the great end of existence. 4. They + rejected with contempt the ceremonious homage which other + sects substituted for the pure worship of the soul. 5. + Instead of catching occasional glimpses of the Deity through + an obscuring veil, they aspired to gaze full on the + intolerable brightness, and to commune with Him face to + face. 6. Hence originated their contempt for terrestrial + distinctions. 7. The difference between the greatest and the + meanest of mankind seemed to vanish when compared with the + boundless interval which separated the whole race from Him + on whom their own eyes were constantly fixed. 8. They + recognized no title to superiority but His favor; and, + confident of that favor, they despised all the + accomplishments and all the dignities of the world. 9. If + they were unacquainted with the works of philosophers and + poets, they were deeply read in the oracles of God. 10. If + their names were not found in the registers of heralds, they + were recorded in the Book of Life. 11. If their steps were + not accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of + ministering angels had charge over them. 12. Their palaces + were houses not made with hands; their diadems, crowns of + glory which should never fade away. 13. On the rich and the + eloquent, on nobles and priests, they looked down with + contempt; for they esteemed themselves rich in a more + precious treasure, and eloquent in a more sublime language, + nobles by the right of an earlier creation, and priests by + the imposition of a mightier hand. 14. The very meanest of + them was a being to whose fate a mysterious and terrible + importance belonged, on whose slightest action the spirits + of light and darkness looked with anxious interest; who had + been destined, before heaven and earth were created, to + enjoy a felicity which should continue when heaven and earth + should have passed away. 15. Events which short-sighted + politicians ascribed to earthly causes had been ordained on + his account. 16. For his sake empires had risen, and + flourished, and decayed. 17. For his sake the Almighty had + proclaimed His will by the pen of the Evangelist and the + harp of the prophet. 18. He had been wrested by no common + deliverer from the grasp of no common foe. 19. He had been + ransomed by the sweat of no vulgar agony, by the blood of no + earthly sacrifice. 20. It was for him that the sun had been + darkened, that the rocks had been rent, that the dead had + risen, that all nature had shuddered at the sufferings of + her expiring God." + +This division has been made because by its aid an approach can be made +toward rules for arrangement. In the paragraph quoted on page 183, the +different sentences are equally related to the topic. Is there, then, +no reason why one should be first rather than another? Notice the +topics of the sentences and the order becomes a necessity. King, state +policy, government, liberty, religion,--it is an ascending scale. On +page 96 is a paragraph on the charmed names used by Milton. "One," +"another," "a third," "a fourth,"--for all one can see as to the +relation of each to the topic, "a fourth" might as well have been +"one" as fourth. But upon reading the paragraph it is evident that +Macaulay thought the last more important than the first. So in the +paragraph just quoted about the Puritans, when the arrangement of the +first eight sentences changes in sentences nine through eleven, and +again in sentences sixteen to twenty, the order is a climax. Moreover, +those topics are associated which are more closely related in thought. +King is more closely related to government than to religion, and +religion is more intimately associated with the idea of liberty than +with king. The order, then, is the natural order of association. From +these examples we derive the first principle of arrangement. In a +paragraph where several sentences contribute individually to the +topic, they must be arranged in the order in which the thoughts are +associated and follow each other; and, when possible, they should take +the order of a climax. + + Definite References. + +In the paragraph made up of sentences in a series, each linked to the +sentence before and after, the difficulty is in transmitting the force +of one sentence to the next one undiminished. This is done by binding +the sentences so closely together that one cannot slip on the other. +In the paragraph about the Puritans, of the second sentence the "Great +Being" goes back to "superior beings" of the first; and "Him" in the +next springs from "Great Being." "To know Him, to serve Him, to enjoy +Him,"--what is it but the "pure worship" of the fourth? while +"ceremonious homage" of the fourth is the "occasional glimpses of the +Deity through an obscuring veil" of the fifth. One sentence grows out +of some phrase of the preceding sentence; the sentences are firmly +locked together by the repetition, a little modified, of the thought +of a preceding phrase. There is no slipping. To get this result there +must be no question of the thought-sequence in the sentences. Each +sentence must be a consequence of a preceding sentence. And there must +be attention to the choice and position of the words from which the +following sentence is to spring. Such words cannot be indefinite, +mushy words; they must be definite, firm words. Moreover, they must +not be buried out of sight by a mass of unimportant matters; they must +be so placed that they are unhindered, free to push forward the +thought toward its ultimate conclusion. This often requires inversion +in the sentence. That phrase which is the source of the next sentence +must be thrown up into a prominent position; and it is usually pressed +toward the end of the sentence, nearer to the sentence which is its +consequence. In a paragraph quoted on page 222, where this same +subject is taken up in connection with sentences, there is an +excellent illustration of this. "Slow and obscure," "inadequate +ideas," "small circle," and the numerous phrases which repeat the +thought, though not the words, are firm words binding the sentences +together indissolubly. + + Use of Pronouns. + +Not all sentences permit such clear reference as this. Still it must +be said that where the thought is logical and clear, the reference is +never missed: the binding words are important words and they occupy +prominent positions. There is, however, a whole group of words whose +function is to make the references sure. They are pronouns. Pronouns +refer back, and they point forward. Their careful use is the commonest +method of making sure of references, and so of binding sentences +together. The ones in common use are _this, that, the former, the +latter;_ the relatives _who, which,_ and _that;_ and the personal +pronouns _he, she, it._ To these may be added some adverbs: _here, +there, hence, whence, now, then, when,_ and _while._ The binding force +of these words is manifest in every paragraph of composition. + +The following paragraph, from Burke's speech on "Conciliation with the +Colonies," illustrates the use of pronouns as words referring back, +and binding the whole into one inseparable unit. + + "As to the wealth which the colonies have drawn from the sea + by their fisheries, you had all that matter fully opened at + your bar. You surely thought _those_ acquisitions of value, + for _they_ seemed even to excite your envy; and yet the + spirit by which _that_ enterprising employment has been + exercised ought rather, in my opinion, to have raised your + esteem and admiration. And pray, Sir, what in the world is + equal to _it?_ Pass by the other parts, and look at the + manner in which the people of New England have of late + carried on the whale fishery. Whilst we follow _them_ among + the tumbling mountains of ice, and behold _them_ penetrating + into the deepest frozen recesses of Hudson's Bay and Davis's + Straits, whilst we are looking for _them_ beneath the arctic + circle, we hear that _they_ have pierced into the opposite + region of polar cold, that _they_ are at the antipodes, and + engaged under the frozen Serpent of the south. Falkland + Island, which seemed too remote and romantic an object for + the grasp of national ambition, is but a stage and + resting-place in the progress of _their_ victorious + industry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more discouraging to + _them_ than the accumulated winter of both the poles. We + know that whilst _some_ of _them_ draw the line and strike + the harpoon on the coast of Africa, _others_ run the + longitude and pursue _their_ gigantic game along the coast + of Brazil. No sea but what is vexed by _their_ fisheries; no + climate that is not witness to _their_ toils. Neither the + perseverance of Holland, nor the activity of France, nor the + dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterprise ever + carried _this_ most perilous mode of hardy industry to the + extent to which _it_ has been pushed by _this_ recent + people; a people who are still, as it were, but in the + gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood. When + I contemplate _these_ things; when I know that the colonies + in general owe little or nothing to any care of ours, and + that they are not squeezed into this happy form by the + constraints of watchful and suspicious government, but that, + through a wise and salutary neglect, a generous nature has + been suffered to take her own way to perfection; when I + reflect upon _these_ effects, when I see how profitable + _they_ have been to us, I feel all the pride of power sink, + and all presumption in the wisdom of human contrivances melt + and die away within me. My rigor relents. I pardon something + to the spirit of liberty." + + Of Conjunctions. + +Another group of words which give coherence to a paragraph is +conjunctions. They indicate the relations between sentences, and they +point the direction of the new sentence. The common relations between +sentences indicated by conjunctions are coordinative, subordinative, +adversative, concessive, and illative. Each young writer has usually +but one word, at the most two words, in his vocabulary to express each +of these relations. He knows _and, but, if, although,_ and +_therefore._ Each person should learn from a grammar the whole list, +for no class of words indicates clear thinking so unmistakably as +conjunctions. + +Two words of advice should be given regarding the use of conjunctions. +If the thought all bends one way, if this direction is perfectly +clear, there is no need of conjunctions. It is when the course of the +discussion is tortuous, when the road is not direct, when the reader +may lose the way without these guides, that conjunctions should be +used. On the other hand, conjunctions are an annoyance when not +needed. Just as guideposts along a road where there is no chance to +leave the direct path are useless, and their recurrence is a cause of +aggravation, so it is with unnecessary conjunctions. They attract +attention to themselves, and so draw it from the thought. The first +caution is, Do not use conjunctions unless needed. + +In the following, the repetition of _and_ is unnecessary and annoying. + + "Six shillings a week does not keep body and soul together + very unitedly. They want to get away from each other when + there is only such a very slight bond as that between them; + and one day, I suppose, the pain and the dull monotony of it + all had stood before her eyes plainer than usual, and the + mocking spectre had frightened her. She had made one last + appeal to friends, but, against the chill wall of their + respectability, the voice of the erring outcast fell + unheeded; _and_ then she had gone to see her child--had held + it in her arms and kissed it, in a weary, dull sort of way, + _and_ without betraying any particular emotion of any kind, + _and_ had left it, after putting into its hand a penny box + of chocolate she had bought it, _and_ afterwards, with her + last few shillings, had taken a ticket _and_ come down to + Goring. + + "It seemed that the bitterest thoughts of her life must have + centred about the wooded reaches and the bright green + meadows around Goring; but women strangely hug the knife + that stabs them, and, perhaps, amidst the gall, there may + have mingled also sunny memories of sweetest hours, spent + upon those shadowed deeps over which the great trees bend + their branches down so low. + + "She had wandered about the woods by the river's brink all + day, _and_ then, when evening fell _and_ the gray twilight + spread its dusky robe upon the waters, she stretched out her + arms to the silent river that had known her sorrow and her + joy. _And_ the old river had taken her into its gentle arms, + _and_ had laid her weary head upon its bosom, _and_ had + hushed away the pain." + +The other word is: When possible put the conjunction that connects two +sentences into the body of the sentence, rather than at its beginning. +In this way its binding power is increased. This principle should +limit the use of _and_ and _but_ at the beginning of a sentence. +Rarely is _and_ needed in such a place. If the thought goes straight +forward--and it must do so if _and_ correctly expresses the +relation--there is usually no gain in its use. At times when the +reader might be led to expect some change of direction from some +phrase in the preceding sentence, then it would be wise to set him +right by the use of _and._ Moreover, there are times when coordinate +thoughts are so important, and the expression of the coordination is +so important, that a sentence beginning with _and_ is the only +adequate means of expressing it. However, be very sure that there is +need for every _and_ that you use. The same caution may be given about +_but._ _But_ indicates an abrupt turn in the thought. Is such a +contrast in the thought? If so, is there no other word to express the +thought? Some persons go so far as to say that these words should +never begin a sentence. This is too pedantic and not true. When +coordinative and adversative relations are to be expressed, however, +it is certainly more elegant if some variety can be obtained, and the +union is closer if the conjunction be placed in the body of the +sentence. This requires the use of other words besides _and_ and +_but._ _Also, in like manner, besides, too, nevertheless, however, +after all, for all that,_ should be as familiar as the two overworked +words _and_ and _but._ Look for ways to bind sentences in the middle +rather than at the end. It is more elegant and it is much safer. + + Parallel Constructions. + +A third principle of arrangement is the use of parallel constructions +for parallel thoughts. By parallel structure is meant that the +principal elements of the sentences shall be arranged in the same +order. If subordinate clauses precede principal clauses in one +sentence, they shall in the other; if they follow in one, they shall +follow in the other. If an active voice be used in one, it shall be +used in the other; if the predicate go before the subject in one, it +shall in the other. The use of parallel structure frequently demands +repetition of forms and even of identical words and phrases. It is +very effective in giving clearness to a paragraph and in securing +coherence of its parts. + +In the first of the two illustrations below, read one sentence this +way and observe the ruin that is wrought. "The North American colonies +made such a struggle against the mother country." In the second +paragraph, change two of the sentences to the passive voice. The +effect is evident loss in clearness and strength. + + "All history is full of revolutions, produced by causes + similar to those which are now operating in England. A + portion of the community which had been of no account, + expands and becomes strong. It demands a place in the + system, suited, not to its former weakness, but to its + present power. If this is granted, all is well. If this is + refused, then comes the struggle between the young energy of + one class and the ancient privileges of another. Such was + the struggle between the Plebeians and Patricians of Rome. + Such was the struggle of the Italian allies for admission to + the full rights of Roman citizens. Such was the struggle of + our North American colonies against the mother country. Such + was the struggle which the Third Estate of France maintained + against the aristocracy of birth. Such was the struggle + which the Roman Catholics of Ireland maintained against the + aristocracy of creed. Such is the struggle which the free + people of color in Jamaica are now maintaining against the + aristocracy of skin. Such, finally, is the struggle which + the middle classes in England are maintaining against an + aristocracy of mere locality, against an aristocracy, the + principle of which is to invest a hundred drunken + pot-wallopers in one place, or the owner of a ruined hovel + in another, with powers which are withheld from cities + renowned to the furthest ends of the earth for the marvels + of their wealth and of their industry."[41] + + + "Man is a being of genius, passion, intellect, conscience, + power. He exercises these various gifts in various ways, in + great deeds, in great thoughts, in heroic acts, in hateful + crimes. He founds states, he fights battles, he builds + cities, he ploughs the forest, he subdues the elements, he + rules his kind. He creates vast ideas, and influences many + generations. He takes a thousand shapes, and undergoes a + thousand fortunes. Literature records them all to the + life.... He pours out his fervid soul in poetry; he sways to + and fro, he soars, he dives, in his restless speculations; + his lips drop eloquence; he touches the canvas, and it glows + with beauty; he sweeps the strings, and they thrill with an + ecstatic meaning. He looks back into himself, and he reads + his own thoughts, and notes them down; he looks out into the + universe, and tells over and celebrates the elements and + principles of which it is the product."[42] + +(The principles of Mass and Coherence in paragraphs are closely allied +with these same principles regarding sentences. Some further +discussion of these important matters, as well as more illustrations, +will be found in the next chapter.) + +Good sense must be exercised in the use of parallel constructions. +Although a short series of sentences containing parallel thoughts is +common and demands this treatment, it is not at all frequent that one +has such a long series as these paragraphs contain. In these +paragraphs the parallel is in the thought; it has not been searched +out. Because one is pleased with these effects of parallel +construction, he should not be led to seek for opportunities where he +can force sentences into similar shapes. The thoughts must be +parallel. If the thought is actually parallel, a parallel treatment +may be adopted with great advantage to clearness and force; if it is +not parallel, any attempt to treat it as such is detected as a shallow +trick. To search for thoughts to trail along in a series results in +thinnest bombast. As everywhere else in composition, so here a writer +must rely on his good taste and good sense. + + Summary. + +Whatever may be the special mode of development, of whatever form of +discourse it is to be a part, the three fundamental principles which +guide in making a paragraph are Unity, Mass, and Coherence. The unity +of the paragraph is secured by referring all of the material to the +topic, including what contributes to the main thought and excluding +what has no value. Paragraphs excessively long or very short may lead +to offenses against unity. Mass in a paragraph is gained by placing +worthy words in the positions of distinction; by treating the more +important matters at greater length; and, when possible without +disturbing coherence, by arranging the material in a climax. Coherence +is secured by keeping together matters related in thought; by a wise +choice and placing of all words which bind sentences together; and by +the use of parallel constructions for parallel ideas. Carefully chosen +material, arranged so that worthy words occupy the positions of +distinction, and all so skillfully knit together that every sentence, +every phrase, every word, takes the reader one step toward the +conclusion,--this constitutes a good paragraph. + + + SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS + + + THE OLD MANSE. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 69.) + +In the paragraph beginning at the bottom of page 19, what do you think +of the selection of material? Does the last detail give the finishing +touch to the paragraph? Is it a real climax? + +On page 25 a paragraph begins, "Lightly as," etc. In the second +sentence "bound volume" goes back to what words in the first sentence? +"he," of the third, to what of the second? "thus it was" to what +before? + +Now take the paragraph on pages 34 and 35 and trace the connection of +the sentences, drawing two lines under the phrase from which a +succeeding sentence springs, and one line under words that refer back +to a preceding phrase; also trace out the dovetailing in the sentences +on pages 6 and 7. In the paragraph on pages 18 and 19 the development +is not so. Each sentence emphasizes "the sombre aspect of external +nature." What is the law of their arrangement? (See text-book, pages +181-187.) + +Find other paragraphs arranged in this way. (See pages 35, 36.) + +What is the topic of the second paragraph? + +Can you divide the paragraph filling the middle of page 8? Where? + +What is the relation between the first sentence and the last in the +paragraph at the bottom of page 11? Give the words that join the +sentences of the paragraph together. + +In the paragraph beginning on page 13, what is the purpose of the +first two sentences? + +On page 14, does it seem to you that Hawthorne had forgotten the Old +Manse enough so that it could be called a digression? or do you think +that the delightful, rambling character of the essay permits it? Can +you divide this paragraph on pages 14 and 15? Where? + +What figure at the bottom of page 15? Is it the custom to use a +capital letter in such a case? Has the paragraph in which the figure +occurs unity? Where could you divide it? Give the topic of both new +paragraphs. + +Of the paragraph on pages 16 and 17, what is the relation of the last +three sentences to the topic? + +What comment would you make upon the last sentence of the paragraph +ending at the top of page 25? + +At the opening of the paragraph beginning on page 29, do you like the +figure? Trace the relation between the first and second sentences; +between the second and the third. Could this paragraph be divided? + + + RIP VAN WINKLE AND THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 51.) + +In the paragraph on page 11, what is the relation between the first +and last sentences? Why is the middle of the paragraph introduced? Is +it effective? + +What method of development is adopted in the next paragraph? + +Trace out the connection of the paragraphs in the first five pages of +this essay. What words at the beginning of each paragraph are +especially helpful in joining the parts? + +On page 13 Irving writes, "Times grew worse and worse for Rip Van +Winkle," etc. How many paragraphs are given to this topic? Could all +of them be put into one? Should they? What is the last part of the +first sentence of this paragraph? + +Why are there so few topic sentences in this essay? How did Irving +know where to paragraph? Give topics of the paragraphs on pages 16, +17, 18. In the paragraph beginning at the bottom of p. 17, why are the +clothes of the man mentioned first? + +What method of paragraph development is adopted in the paragraph +beginning in the middle of page 23? Is the last detail important? + +From the use on pages 24 and 25, what do you gather as to the rule for +paragraphing where dialogue is reported? + +In the paragraph on page 40, what reason has Irving for saying +"therefore"? From what sentence does the last of this paragraph arise? +Do you think the specific closing of the paragraph worthy of the +position? + +When Irving says on page 41 that he was "an odd mixture of small +shrewdness and simple credulity," did he mean that he was shrewd, or +that he was not shrewd? Can you find anything in the paragraphs to +develop the thought that he was shrewd? How many paragraphs are given +to his simple credulity? Why so many? + +In the paragraph beginning at the bottom of page 42, what advantage is +there in the exclamatory sentences? + +Would it be as well to divide the next paragraph into three sentences? +Give your reasons. As the paragraph stands, is the sentence loose or +periodic? + +In the paragraph beginning at the bottom of page 45, what is the +method of development? Why is the chanticleer mentioned last? + +Are Irving's sentences long? Do they seem long? Why, or why not? + +What is the relation of the first sentence of the first paragraph on +page 55 to the last? + +What is the topic of the next paragraph? Do you think it would be just +as well to put the second sentence of this paragraph last? + +In the paragraph beginning at the bottom of page 55, what method of +development has been used? Why is the "blue jay" mentioned last? + + + THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 119.) + +Do you think the first paragraph too long? Where can you divide it? +What is the test of the length of a paragraph? + +At the bottom of page 67, do you think the first sentence of the +paragraph the topic? or is it the last sentence? Give reasons. + +Is the detail at the end of the paragraph beginning on the middle of +page 71 upon the topic of the paragraph? Is it good there? How do you +know that Usher did not say "him"? + +Of the paragraph on page 73, what sentence is the topic? + +What proportion of the paragraphs have topic sentences? Have the +others topics? Give them for the paragraphs on the first five pages. + +What method of paragraph development has Poe adopted in the paragraph +beginning in the middle of page 81? What is the relation between the +opening and the close of the paragraph? Why is the middle needed? + +Do you like the second sentence of the next paragraph? What is there +disagreeable in it? + +As you read along do the paragraphs run into one another? Is such a +condition good? + + + SILAS MARNER. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 83.) + +Divide paragraphs on pages 10 and 11. What is the topic of each of the +new paragraphs? + +In the first paragraph of chapter two each sentence grows out of the +one preceding. Put two lines under the words in each sentence which +are the source of the next sentence. Draw one line under the words in +each sentence which refer back to the preceding sentence. + +In the paragraph beginning at the bottom of page 94, what is the topic +sentence? What relation has the last sentence to the first? What +method of development in the paragraph? + +Can the paragraphs of exposition usually be divided? Do they violate +unity? If not, upon what principle can you divide them? + +What is the tendency in regard to the length of paragraphs in recent +literature? + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER VIII + + SENTENCES + + + Definition and Classification. Simple Sentences. + +A sentence is a group of words expressing a complete thought. +Sentences have been classified as simple, complex, and compound. In +reality there are but two classes of sentences,--simple and compound. +It is not material to the construction of a sentence whether a +modifier be a word, a phrase, or a clause; it still remains an +adjective, adverb, or noun modifier, and the method in which the +subject and predicate are developed is the same. By means of +modifiers, a subject and predicate of but two words may grow to the +size of a paragraph, and yet be a group of words expressing one +complete thought. + +In the sentence below, the subject and predicate are "we are free." +This does not, however, express Burke's complete thought. It is not +what he meant. Free to do what? How free? When may it be done? Why +now? What bill? All these introduce modifications to the simple +assertion, "we are free," modifications which are essential to the +completeness of the thought. + + "By the return of this bill, which seemed to have taken its + flight forever, we are at this very instant nearly as free + to choose a plan for our American government as we were on + the first day of the session." + + Compound Sentences. + +On the other hand, the compound sentence is usually said to consist of +at least two independent clauses; and the very fact of their +independence, which is only a grammatical independence, to be sure, +makes the clauses very nearly independent sentences. So near to +sentences may the clauses be in their independence that some writers +would make them so. The following group of sentences Kipling certainly +could have handled in another way. "The reason for her wandering was +simple enough. Coppy, in a tone of too hastily assumed authority, had +told her over night that she must not ride out by the river. And she +had gone to prove her own spirit and teach Coppy a lesson." Certainly +the last two sentences could be united into a compound sentence, nor +would it be straining the structure to put all three sentences into +one. This example is not exceptional. Many similar cases may be found +in all prose writers; and in Macaulay's writings there are certainly +occasions when it would be better to unite independent sentences. If +the fundamental ideas of the two clauses bear certain definite and +evident relations to each other, they should stand in one compound +sentence. These evident relations are: first, an assertion and its +repetition in some other form; second, an assertion and its contrast; +third, an assertion and its consequence; and fourth, an assertion and +an example. If the clauses do not bear one of these evident relations +to each other, they should receive special attention; for they may be +two separate, independent thoughts requiring for their expression two +sentences. The following sentences illustrate the common relations +that may exist between the clauses of a compound sentence. + +_Repetition._ "Nothing has a drift or relation; nothing has a + promise or history." + + "But the religion most prevalent in our northern colonies is + a refinement on the principle of resistance; it is the + dissidence of dissent, and the protestantism of the + Protestant religion." + +_Contrast._ "If the people approve the way in which these + authorities are interpreting and using the Constitution, + they go on; if the people disapprove, they pause, or at + least slacken their pace." + + "Every court is equally bound to pronounce, and competent to + pronounce, on such questions, a State court no less than a + Federal court; but as all the more important questions are + carried by appeal to the supreme Federal court, it is + practically that court whose opinion determines them." + +_Consequence._ "The British and American line had run near it + during the war; it had, _therefore,_ been the scene of + marauding, and infested with refugees, cow-boys, and all + kinds of border chivalry." + +_Example._ "He found favor in the eyes of the mothers by petting + the children, particularly the youngest; and like the lion + bold, which whilom so magnanimously the lamb did hold, he + would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle with + his foot for whole hours together." + +There is another condition which masses many details into one compound +sentence. If in narration a writer wishes to give the impression that +many things are done in a moment of time, and together form one +incident, he may group many circumstances, nearly independent except +for the matter of time, into one compound sentence. In description he +may present groups of details hastily in one sentence, and so give the +impression of unity. The same thing may be done in exposition. Many +independent ideas may bear a common relation to another idea, either +expressed or understood; and in order to get them before the reader as +one whole, the author may group them in a single sentence. The +examples below illustrate this method of sentence development. + +_Narration._ "For a moment the terror of Hans Van Ripper's wrath + passed across his mind, for it was his Sunday saddle; but + this was no time for petty fears; the goblin was hard on his + haunches; and (unskillful rider that he was!) he had much + ado to maintain his seat; sometimes slipping on one side, + sometimes on another, and sometimes jolted on the high ridge + of his horse's backbone, with a violence that he verily + feared would cleave him asunder."[43] + +_Description._ "In one corner stood a huge bag of wool, ready to + be spun; in another, a quantity of linsey-woolsey just from + the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of dried apples + and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled + with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him + a peep into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs + and dark mahogany tables shone like mirrors; andirons, with + their accompanying shovel and tongs, glistened from their + covert of asparagus tops; mock oranges and conch shells + decorated the mantelpiece; strings of various-colored birds' + eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich egg was hung + from the centre of the room, and a corner cupboard, + knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old + silver and well-mended china."[43] + +_Exposition._ "That perfection of the Intellect, which is the + result of Education, and its _beau ideal,_ to be imparted to + individuals in their respective measures, is the clear, + calm, accurate vision and comprehension of all things, as + far as the finite mind can embrace them, each in its place, + and with its own characteristics upon it. It is almost + prophetic from its knowledge of history; it is almost + heart-searching from its knowledge of human nature; it has + almost supernatural charity from its freedom from littleness + and prejudice; it has almost the repose of faith, because + nothing can startle it; it has almost the beauty and harmony + of heavenly contemplation, so intimate is it with the + eternal order of things and the music of the spheres."[44] + +(Notice the use of the semicolon in the last two groups of sentences. +The parts of compound sentences such as these should be separated by +semicolons.) + + Short Sentences. + +Having determined approximately what relations may be grouped in a +single sentence, the first question for consideration is whether +sentences should be long or short. This cannot be definitely answered. +Since they should be concise, the short sentence is well suited for +definitions. Since a proposition should be announced in as few words +as can be used, without sacrificing brevity to clearness, short +sentences serve best for this purpose. As changes in the direction of +the development of a thought should be quickly indicated, a short +sentence is generally used for transition. And as at times when the +mind is under a stress of strong feeling, or the action of a story is +rapid, all explanatory matters are cut away, the barest statements in +shortest sentences serve best to express strong emotion and rapid +action. + + Long Sentences. + +Long sentences have the very opposite uses. To amplify a topic, to +develop a proposition by repetition, by details, by proofs, or by +example, long sentences are serviceable; by them the finer +modifications of a thought can be expressed. So, too, a summary of a +paragraph or a chapter frequently employs long sentences to express +the whole thought with precision and with proper subordination of +parts. Again, as short sentences best express haste and intensity, so +long sentences give the feeling of quiet deliberation and dignified +calm. + +Illustrations of definitions, propositions, transitions, and +exemplifications are to be found everywhere. Slow movement expressed +by long sentences is well illustrated in Irving and Hawthorne. One +selection from George Meredith, to show the peculiar adaptation of the +short sentence to express intensity of feeling, is given. Richard +Feverel has just learned that the wife whom he had deserted has borne +him a son. Description and narration are mingled. The short, nervous +sentences express both the vividness of his impressions and the +intensity of his emotions. + + "A pale gray light on the skirts of the flying tempest + displayed the dawn. Richard was walking hurriedly. The green + drenched woods lay all about his path, bent thick, and the + forest drooped glimmeringly. Impelled as a man who feels a + revelation mounting obscurely to his brain, Richard was + passing one of those little forest-chapels, hung with votive + wreaths, where the peasants halt to kneel and pray. Cold, + still, in the twilight it stood, rain-drops pattering round + it. He looked within, and saw the Virgin holding her Child. + He moved not by. But not many steps had he gone before the + strength went out of him, and he shuddered. What was it? He + asked not. He was in other hands. Vivid as lightning the + Spirit of Life illumined him. He felt in his heart the cry + of his child, his darling's touch. With shut eyes he saw + them both. They drew him from the depths; they led him a + blind and tottering man. And as they led him he had a sense + of purification so sweet he shuddered again and again." + + Unity. + +In a sentence, as in a theme or a paragraph, the first question +regarding its structure is what to put into it. The germ of a +paragraph is usually a sentence; of the sentence it is one word or but +very few words. This kernel of a sentence may be developed through the +many modifications of the thought; but always the additions must be +distinctly related to the germ words. If this relation of parts to the +kernel of the sentence be unmistakable, the sentence has unity; if +there are parts whose connection with the germ of the sentence cannot +be easily traced, they should be rejected as belonging to another +sentence. The pith of the whole sentence can be stated in a few words, +if the sentence has unity. + +Long sentences should be watched. One thing easily suggests another, +interesting too, it may be; and when an essay is to be written, +anything,--especially if it have so worthy a quality as interest to +recommend it,--anything is allowed to go in. Such a sentence as the +following can be explained on no other principle: "Just then James +came rushing downstairs like mad to find the fellow who had punched a +hole in the tire of his bicycle, which was a Columbia which he got two +years before at a second-hand store, paying for it in work at fifteen +cents an hour." Plainly everything after "bicycle" is nothing to the +present purpose and should be excluded. The following from a +description of Cologne Cathedral is as bad, in some respects, worse; +for there is one point where the break is so abrupt that a child would +detect it. "The superintendence was intrusted to Mr. Ahlert, whose +ideas were not well adapted to inspire him for his grand task, under +his direction much of the former beauty and artistical skill was lost +sight of, but at all events it was a great satisfaction to see the +work go on and to have the expenses defrayed by the State." In this +case the writer, beyond doubt, thinks long sentences the correct +thing. Long sentences are necessary at times; but the desire simply to +write long sentences or to fill up space should never lead one to +forget that a sentence is the expression of one--not more--of one +complete thought. + +On the other hand, sentences should contain the whole of one thought; +none of it should run over into another sentence. Strange as it may +seem, sentences are sometimes found like the following: "James was on +the whole a bad boy. But he had some redeeming qualities." "The first +day at school was all new to me. While it was interesting as well." +"He said that he was going. And that I might go with him." There is no +ground for an explanation of such errors as these except laziness and +grossest illiteracy. It is by no device so simple as the insertion of +a period that man can separate what has been joined in thought. _And_ +and _but_ rarely begin sentences; in nearly all cases it will be found +that the sentences they purport to connect are but the independent +clauses of one compound sentence. _While_ or any other subordinating +conjunction introduces a dependent clause; a dependent clause is not a +sentence; it can never stand alone. + +The offenses against the unity of a sentence are including too much +and including too little. Both are the result of carelessness or +inability to think. The purpose, the kernel, the germ of the sentence, +should be so clearly in mind that every necessary modification of the +thought shall be included and every unnecessary phrase be excluded. +Some further suggestions concerning unity are found in the paragraphs +treating primarily of mass and coherence. + + Mass. + +As advance is made in the ability to grasp quickly the thought of a +book, it becomes more and more evident that the eye must be taken into +account when arranging the parts of a composition. The eye sees the +headings of the chapters; it catches the last words of one paragraph +and the first words of the next; it lights upon the words near the +periods; so the parts of a composition should be arranged so that +these points shall contain worthy words. Moreover, within the sentence +the colon marks the greatest independence of the parts; the semicolon +comes next; and the comma marks the smallest division of thought. +Following the guidance of the eye, then, the words before a period +should be the most important; those near a colon, a semicolon, and a +comma will have a descending scale of value. A speaker has no +difficulty with punctuation; unconsciously he pauses with the thought. +So true is this, that one is inclined to say that if the writer will +read aloud his own composition, and punctuate where he pauses in the +reading, always remembering the rank of the marks of punctuation, he +will not be far from right. It will be noticed that he has paused in +the reading after important words, as if the thought stayed a moment +there for the help of the reader. Naturally we pause after important +words; and conversely, the places of importance in a sentence are near +the marks of punctuation, increasing from the comma to the period. + + End of a Sentence. + +The end of a sentence is more important than the beginning; and the +difference in value is greater than in a paragraph. In a paragraph the +opening is very important, generally containing the topic. In a +sentence, however, the beginning more often has some phrase of +transition, or some modifier; while it is the end that contains the +gist of the sentence. This fact makes it imperative that no unworthy +matter stand at the end. How important a position it is, and how much +is expected of the final words of a sentence, is evident from the +effect of failure produced by a sentence that closes with weak words. +In the following sentences, phrases have been moved from their places; +the weakness is apparent. + + Abstract liberty is not to be found; and this is true of + other mere abstractions. + + This is a persuasion built upon liberty, and not only + favorable to it. + + I pass, therefore, to their agriculture, another point of + view. + +Of course Burke never wrote such sentences as these. However, +sentences like them can be found in school compositions. + + "Lincoln's character is worthy to be any young man's ideal; + having in it much to admire." + + "Euclid Avenue, with its broad lawns, and with Wade Park as + the fitting climax of its spacious beauty, is the most + attractive driveway in the United States, which is saying a + good deal." + + "Minnesota has many beautiful lakes; Mille Lacs, fringed + with dark pines; Osakis, with its beach of glistening sand; + Minnetonka, skirted by a lovely boulevard bordered by cool + lawns and cosy cottages; and many others not so big." + +Such sentences as these are not uncommon. Their ruin is wrought by the +closing words. Watch for trailing relatives, dangling participles, and +straggling generalities at the end of sentences. The end of a sentence +is a position of distinction; it should be held by words of +distinction. + +So influential is position in a sentence that by virtue of it a word +or a clause of equal rank with others can be made to take on a certain +added authority. By observing the end of a sentence, a reader can +determine what was uppermost in the mind of an author careful of these +things. In the following sentence as it was written by Burke the +emphasis is on the duration of the time; but by a change of position +it is put upon the fact. "Refined policy ever has been the parent of +confusion; and ever will be so, as long as the world endures." +Changing the last clause it reads, "and, as long as the world endures, +ever will be so." This is not weak; but the stress is not where Burke +placed it. The position of the words gives them an importance that +does not inhere in the words themselves. + + Effect of Anti-climax. + +Still, as the tenure of a place of distinction cannot save a fool from +the reputation of folly, position in a sentence cannot redeem empty +words from their truly insipid character. Indeed, as the imbecility of +a shallow pate is made all the more apparent by a position of +distinction, so is the utter unfitness of certain words for their +position painfully manifest. This is the secret of anti-climax. By +reason of its very position in a sentence, the last phrase should be +distinguished; instead the position is held by a silly nothing. +Disappointing anti-climaxes, like those already cited, are frequently +made by young writers; and they are sometimes met with in the works of +the best authors. The following sentence is from Newman: from the +point of view of an ardent churchman, it may be a climax; but from the +point of view of the general reader who considers the whole greater +than any of its parts, in spite of all the sense preceding the final +phrase, that is absurd and disappointing nonsense. + + "I protest to you, gentlemen, that if I had to choose + between a so-called university, which dispensed with + residence and tutorial superintendence, and gave its degrees + to any person who passed an examination in a wide range of + subjects, and a university which had no professors and + examinations at all, but merely brought a number of young + men together for three or four years, and then sent them + away as the University of Oxford is said to have done some + sixty years since, if I were asked which of these methods + was the better discipline of the intellect,--mind, I do not + say which is _morally_ the better, for it is plain that + compulsory study must be a good and idleness an intolerable + mischief,--but if I must determine which of the two courses + was the more successful in training, moulding, and enlarging + the mind, which sent out men the more fitted for their + secular duties, which produced better public men, men of the + world, men whose names would descend to posterity, I have no + hesitation in giving the preference to that university which + did nothing, over that which exacted an acquaintance with + every science under the sun. And, paradox as this may seem, + still if results be the test of systems, the influence of + the public schools and colleges of England, in the course of + the last century, at least will bear out one side of the + contrast as I have drawn it. What could come, on the other + hand, of the ideal systems of education which have + fascinated the imagination of this age, could they ever take + effect, and whether they would not produce a generation + frivolous, narrow-minded, and resourceless, intellectually + considered, is a fair subject for debate; but so far is + certain, that the universities and scholastic + establishments, to which I refer, and which did little more + than bring together first boys and then youths in large + numbers, these institutions, with miserable deformities on + the side of morals, with a hollow profession of + Christianity, and a heathen code of ethics,--I say, at + least, they can boast of a succession of heroes and + statesmen, of literary men and philosophers, of men + conspicuous for great natural virtues, for habits of + business, for knowledge of life, for practical judgment, for + cultivated tastes, for accomplishments, who have made + England what it is,--able to subdue the earth, _able to + domineer over Catholics._"[45] + + Use of Climax. + +From what has been said, it is evident that the parts of a sentence, +as far as may be, should be arranged in a climax. The climax should be +in the thought, with a corresponding increase in the weight of the +phrases. If the thoughts increase in importance, the words that +express them should increase in number. The number of words in the +treatment bears a pretty constant ratio to the importance of the +subject treated. The paragraph quoted from Newman is an excellent +illustration of the use of climax,--until it comes to that last +phrase. Note in the first sentence the repetition of the condition, +three times repeated. Change the second to the third and see how +different it is. Then he has "public men, men of the world, men whose +names would descend to posterity,"--a steady increase in the thought, +and a corresponding increase in the length of phrases. The last +sentence contains a fine example of climax. "Of heroes and statesmen, +of literary men and philosophers, of men conspicuous for great natural +virtues, for habits of business, for knowledge of life, for practical +judgment, for cultivated tastes, for accomplishments, who have made +England what it is,--able to subdue the earth." Climax is the +arrangement that produces the effect of vigorous strength. In +arranging a succession of modifiers, so far as possible without +breaking some other more important principle, a writer will gain in +force if he seeks for climax. + + Loose and Periodic. + +Sentences are divided into two classes: loose and periodic. A loose +sentence may be broken at some point before the end, and up to that +point be grammatically a complete sentence. An arrangement of the +parts of a sentence that suspends the meaning until the close is +called periodic. The periodic sentence is generally so massed that the +end contains words of distinction, and the sentence forms a climax. +Not all climaxes are periods; but nearly all periods are climaxes. + + The Period. + +The philosophy of the periodic sentence has been best stated by +Herbert Spencer. He starts with the axiom that the whole amount of +attention a reader can give at any moment is limited and fixed. A +reader must give a part of it to merely acquiring the meaning; the +remainder of his attention he can give to the thought itself. In +reading Cicero the pupil has to put a large part of his attention upon +the vocabulary, upon the order and construction of the words; the +barest fragment of attention he can bestow upon the thought of the +great orator. So when the reader attacks one of Browning's most +involved and obscure passages, he is kept from the thought by the +difficulties in the language. As it is the purpose of language to +convey thought, and as it is usually the wish of an author to be +understood, he should use up as little as possible of the reader's +limited attention for the mere acquisition of the thought, and leave +the reader as much as he can to put upon the meaning. In applying this +to sentences, the question is, which form of sentence demands least +effort to get at its meaning: the periodic sentence, which suspends +the meaning to the end; or the loose sentence, which may be broken at +several points and gives its meaning in installments? The old example +is as good as any: shall we say as the French do, a horse black; or +shall we say as the English do, a black horse? for in the arrangement +of these three words there lies the difference between a loose and a +periodic sentence. Consider the French order first. When a person +hears the words "a horse," he at once thinks of the horse he knows +best; that is, generally, a bay horse. When the word "black" follows, +the whole image has to be changed from the bay horse he knows to the +black horse he has occasionally seen. There has been a waste of +attention. On the other hand, when the words "a black" are heard, the +mind constructs no image; it waits until the noun modified is spoken. +Then the whole image springs up at once; it is correct and it needs no +remodeling. The following sentence illustrates the point. "I am +wasting time" is the beginning. It would be difficult to enumerate the +many thoughts suggested by these words; each person has his own idea +of wasting time. When the rest of the sentence is added, "trying to +learn my geometry lesson," the whole has to be reconstructed. On the +other hand the periodic statement suspends the meaning to the end. +There is no place where, without additions to the words used, the mind +can rest. "Trying to learn a geometry lesson is for me a waste of +time." Theoretically the periodic sentence is better than the loose +sentence; for it economizes attention. + +There is another side to the question, however. If the details be +many, and if each be long, they would be more than the mind could +carry without great effort; and instead of economy of attention, there +is improvident waste. The mind will carry a long, carefully arranged +period at intervals; but a succession of periods is sure to result in +its absolute refusal to do so any longer. There is a limit to the +length of a period that economizes attention; and there is a limit to +the number of successive periods which a reader can endure. + + Periodic and Loose combined. + +There is another form of sentence, which combines the loose and the +periodic. It generally begins with the periodic form and sustains this +until it is better to relieve the mind of the stress, when the period +ends or the loose structure begins; and the sentence may as a whole be +periodic while containing parts that are loose. This kind of sentence +is a common form for long sentences. It gives to prose much of the +dignity of the period, together with the familiarity of the loose +sentence. + +The sentence below may be changed, by putting the last clause first, +to a loose sentence; and by placing it after the word "subject" it +becomes mixed. + + "By all persons who have written of the subject, for the + grandeur of its mountains and the deep quiet of its green + valleys for the leaping torrents of its foaming rivers and + blue calm of its crag-walled lakes, Switzerland has been + named 'the Paradise of Europe.'" + +The following paragraph from Burke contains examples of loose, +periodic, and mixed sentences:-- + + "To restore order and repose to an empire so great and so + distracted as, ours, is, merely in the attempt, an + undertaking that would ennoble the flights of the highest + genius, and obtain pardon for the efforts of the meanest + understanding. Struggling a good while with these thoughts, + by degrees I felt myself more firm. I derived, at length, + some confidence from what in other circumstances usually + produces timidity. I grew less anxious, even from the idea + of my own insignificance. For, judging of what you are by + what you ought to be, I persuaded myself that you would not + reject a reasonable proposition because it had nothing but + its reason to recommend it. On the other hand, being totally + destitute of all shadow of influence, natural or + adventitious, I was very sure that, if my proposition were + futile or dangerous--if it were weakly conceived, or + improperly timed,--there was nothing exterior to it of power + to awe, dazzle, or delude you. You will see it just as it + is; and you will treat it just as it deserves."[46] + + Which shall be used? + +Which shall be used, loose sentences or periodic? In literature the +loose more frequently occur. They are informal and conversational, and +are especially suited to letter-writing, story-telling, and the light +essay. The period is formal; it has the air of preparation. The +oration, the formal essay, well-wrought argument,--forms of literature +where preparation is expected,--may use the period with good effect. +It has a finish, a scholarly refinement, not found in the loose +sentence; and yet a series of periods would be as much out of place in +a letter as a court regalia at a downtown restaurant. The loose +sentence is easy, informal, and familiar; the periodic is stiff, +artificial, and aristocratic. To use none but loose sentences gives a +composition an air of familiarity even to the verge of vulgarity; to +employ only periodic sentences induces a feeling of stiff +artificiality bordering on bombast. The fitness of each for its +purpose is the guide for its use. + +There is, however, a reason why young persons should be encouraged to +use periodic sentences. Usually they compose short sentences, so there +is little danger of overburdening the reader's attention. With this +danger removed, the result of the generous use of periodic sentences +will be nothing worse than a too obvious preparation. The sentences +will all be finished to a degree, and unquestionably will give a +feeling of artificiality. However, the attention to sentence-structure +necessary in order to make it periodic is a thing devoutly to be +wished at this stage of growth. No other fault is so common in +sentence-construction as carelessness. A theme will be logically +outlined, a paragraph carefully planned, but a sentence,--anybody +standing on one foot can make a sentence. A well-turned sentence is a +work of art, and it is never made in moments when the writer "didn't +think." The end must be seen at the beginning: else it does not end; +it plays out. There is no other remedy for careless, slipshod +sentence-making so effective as the construction of many periodic +sentences. + +Not only will there be care in the arrangement of the material, but +when all details must be introduced before the principal thought, +there will be little chance of any phrase slipping into the sentence +that does not in truth belong there. Dangling participles, trailing +relatives, and straggling generalities can find no chance to hang on +to a periodic sentence. Every detail must be a real and necessary +modification of the germ thought of the sentence, else it can hardly +be forced in. Periodic sentences, then, besides insuring a careful +finish to the work, are also a safeguard against the introduction of +irrelevant material,--the commonest offense against sentence-unity. + + Emphasis by Change of Order. + +Closely connected with the emphasis gained by the periodic arrangement +of the parts of a sentence is the emphasis gained by forcing words out +of their natural order. In a sentence the points which arrest the eye +and the attention are the beginning and the end. However, if the +subject stands first and the words of the predicate in their natural +order, there is no more emphasis upon them than these important +elements of a sentence ordinarily deserve. To emphasize either it is +necessary to force it out of its natural position. "George next went +to Boston," is the natural order of this sentence. Supposing, however, +that a writer wished to emphasize the fact that it was George who went +next, not James or Fred, he could do it by forcing the word "George" +from its present natural position to a position unnatural. He could +write, "It was George who next went to Boston," or, "The next to go to +Boston was George." Forcing the subject toward the position usually +occupied by the predicate emphasizes the subject. This is similar to +the emphasis given by the period. "It was George" is so far periodic, +followed by the loose structure; and the last arrangement is quite +periodic. Every device for throwing the subject back into the sentence +makes the sentence up to the point where the subject is introduced +periodic; this arrangement throws the emphasis forward to the word +that closes the period. + +Other parts of a sentence may be emphasized by being placed out of +their natural order. In the natural order, adjectives and adverbs +precede the words they modify; conditional and concessive clauses +precede the clauses they modify; an object follows a verb; and +prepositional phrases and adjective clauses follow the words they +modify. These rules are general. Moving a part of a sentence from this +general order usually emphasizes it. "George went to Boston next" +emphasizes a little the time; but "Next George went to Boston" places +great emphasis on the time. So "It was to Boston that George went +next" emphasizes the place. "Went" cannot be so dealt with. It seems +irrevocably fixed that in a prose declarative sentence the verb shall +never stand first. It is not allowed by good use. + +The rearrangement of the following sentence illustrates the emphasis +given by putting words out of their natural order:-- + + The strong and swarthy sailors of the Patria slowly rowed + the party to the shore. + + The sailors of the Patria, strong and swarthy, slowly rowed + the party to the shore. + + Slowly the strong and swarthy sailors of the Patria rowed + the party to the shore. + + Of the steamer Patria, the sailors, strong and swarthy, + rowed the party to the shore. + +To show the arrangement of clauses the following will be sufficient:-- + + He cannot make advancement, even if he studies hard. + + Even if he studies hard, he cannot make advancement. + + + "Your Irish pensioners would starve, if they had no other + fund to live on than the taxes granted by English + authority." + + If they had no other fund to live on than the taxes granted + by English authority, your Irish pensioners would starve. + +The latter arrangement emphasizes the conclusion much more than the +former; at the same time it subordinates the condition. Burke wished +the emphasis to be upon the condition; he placed it after the +conclusion. + + Subdue Unimportant Elements. + +Emphasis is gained by placing words in important positions in a +sentence by arranging the parts to form a climax; by the use of the +period; by forcing words out of their natural order. It is also gained +by the subdual of parts not important. This emphasis is a matter of +relative intensity. The beauty and strength of any artistic product +depend as much upon the subdual of the accessories as upon the +intensifying of the necessaries. In order to get the emphasis upon +certain phrases, it is necessary to subordinate other phrases. In the +talk of a child every thought phrases itself as a simple sentence. Not +until it grows to youth does the child recognize that there is a +difference in values, and adopt means for expressing it. To grasp +firmly the principal idea and then subdue all other ideas is an +elegant way of emphasizing. + +The subdual of parts is accomplished by reducing to subordinate +clauses, to phrases, to words, some of the ideas which in a child's +talk would be expressed in sentences. A thought of barely enough +importance to be mentioned should be squeezed into a word. If it +deserves more notice, perhaps a prepositional phrase will express it. +A participial phrase will often serve for a clause or a sentence. A +subordinate clause may be needed if the thought is of great +importance. And last, if it deserves such a distinction, the thought +may demand an independent clause or a sentence for itself. If the +following sentence be broken into bits as a child would tell it, the +nice effects of emphasis which Irving has given it are ruined:-- + + "When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a + knot of the sager folks, who, with old Van Tassel, sat + smoking at one end of the piazza, gossiping over former + times, and drawing out long stories about the war."[47] + +Put into simple sentences, it would be like this: The dance was at an +end. Ichabod was attracted to a knot of folks. The folks were older. +They sat at the end of the piazza. Old Van Tassel was with them. They +were smoking, etc. + +In such sentences, nothing is emphatic; it is all alike. In Irving's +sentences, where ideas are reduced to clause, phrase, even a word, +there is no question about what is important and what is unimportant. +He has secured an exquisite emphasis by a discriminating subdual of +subordinate ideas. + +This brings up the sentences by Kipling already quoted on page 201. +The author has used three independent sentences. They can be written +as one, thus: The reason of her wandering was simple enough; for +Coppy, in a tone of too-hastily-assumed authority, had told her over +night that she must not ride out by the river, and she had gone to +prove her own spirit and teach Coppy a lesson. + +There is a reason, however, why Kipling wished that last sentence to +stand alone. Subordinated as it is here rewritten, it does not half +express the spiteful independence she assumed to teach Coppy a lesson. +It needs the independent construction. Just as surely as Kipling is +right in putting the reasons into two sharp, independent sentences, is +Irving right when he puts the reason in the following sentence into a +subordinate clause. It is not important enough to deserve a sentence +all by itself. + + "He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a man of great + erudition, for he had read several books quite through, and + was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's 'History of New + England Witchcraft,' in which, by the way, he most firmly + and potently believed." + +In the following sentence the effect of subordination is +unmistakable:-- + + "He had a name in the village for brutally misusing the ass; + yet it is certain that he shed a tear _which_ made a clean + mark down one cheek." + +Now read it again:-- + + "He had a name in the village for brutally misusing the ass; + yet it is certain that he shed a tear, _and the tear_ made a + clean mark down one cheek." + +The last clause has burst away from its former submission, and in its +independence has made the most important announcement of the +sentence,--the witty climax. Emphasis is, to a large degree, a matter +of position, but position cannot emancipate any clause from the +thralldom of subordination. To emphasize one idea, subordinate +ancillary ideas; make them take their proper rank in the sentence. +Reduce them to a clause or to a phrase; and if a word justly expresses +the relative importance of the thought, reduce its expression to a +single word. + + The Dynamic Point of a Sentence. + +In the chapter on paragraphs it was said that one sentence is often +the source of the succeeding sentence; that such a sentence seemed to +be charged like a Leyden jar, and to discharge its whole power through +a single word or phrase; and further, that this word or phrase should +be left free to act,--it should be uncovered. How a sentence can be +arranged so that this word or phrase shall have the prominence it +deserves, and can unhindered transmit the undiminished force of one +sentence to the next, has now been explained. First, such words can be +made dynamic by placing them at the beginning or the end of a +sentence; second, by placing them near the major marks of punctuation; +third, by forcing them from their natural order; and fourth, by the +subdual of the other parts of the sentence. The greatest care in +massing sentences so that none of their power be lost in transmission +is one of the secrets of the literature that carries the reader +irresistibly forward. Sometimes he may be annoyed by the repetition of +phrases; but he cannot get away; he must go forward. In the paragraph +below, quoted from Matthew Arnold, every phrase that is the point from +which the next sentence springs is in a position where it can act +untrammeled. Through it the whole force of the sentence passes:-- + + "It will be said that it is a very subtle and indirect + action which I am thus prescribing for criticism, and that, + by embracing in this manner the Indian virtue of detachment + and abandoning the sphere of practical life, it condemns + itself as a slow and obscure work. Slow and obscure it may + be, but it is the only proper work of criticism. The mass of + mankind will never have any ardent zeal for seeing things as + they are; very inadequate ideas will satisfy them. On these + inadequate ideas reposes, and must repose, the general + practice of the world. That is as much as saying that + whoever sets himself to see things as they are will find + himself one of a very small circle; but it is only by this + small circle resolutely doing its own work that adequate + ideas will ever get current at all. The rush and uproar of + practical life will always have a dizzying and attracting + effect upon the most collected spectator, and tend to draw + him into its vortex; most of all will this be the case where + that life is so powerful as it is in England. But it is only + by remaining collected, and refusing to lend himself to the + point of view of the practical man, that the critic can do + the practical man any service; and it is only by the + greatest sincerity in pursuing his own course, and by at + last convincing even the practical man of his sincerity, + that he can escape misunderstandings which perpetually + threaten him."[48] + + Good Use. + +Good use has been mentioned. In massing the parts of a sentence for +the purpose of emphasizing some idea, a writer has not entire freedom. +Good use, which is the use of acknowledged masters, decides what may +be done. There are certain arrangements of words to which we are +accustomed; and the disregard of them leads to obscurity or downright +contrariety in the thought. "Brutus stabbed Caesar" is the common +order; "Brutus Caesar stabbed," or "Stabbed Brutus Caesar," is obscure; +while "Caesar stabbed Brutus" is the very opposite of the truth. Those +who have studied Latin know that as far as understanding the sentence +is concerned, it would make no difference in which order the three +Latin words should be arranged; though it would make a mighty +difference in the emphasis. In Latin the case endings determine the +construction of the words. In an inflected language the words may be +massed almost to suit the writer; in an uninflected language, within +certain limits the order determines the relation between groups of +words. Though for emphasis it might be advisable to have the object +first, for the sake of clearness in a short sentence the object cannot +stand first. The primary consideration in making any piece of +literature is that it may be understood. To be understood, the +sentence must be arranged in the order to which we are accustomed. The +order to which we are accustomed has been determined by good use. + +The variety in the arrangement of the parts of a sentence that has +been sanctioned by good usage is great, yet there are limits. Grammar +is based upon the usage of the best writers. Any offense against the +grammar of our language is a sin against good use. Browning may use +constructions so erratic that the ordinary reader does not know what +he is reading about; Carlyle may forge a new word rather than take the +trouble to find one that other people have used. But the young writer, +at least, is far safer while keeping within the limits of good use. + + Clearness gained by Coherence. + +Coherence in a sentence is that principle of structure by which its +parts are best arranged to stick together. The parts of a sentence +containing related ideas should be so associated that there can be no +mistake regarding the reference or the modification. Such a sentence +as the following cannot be understood; the reference is obscure. +"James told him that he did not see what he was to do in the matter." +If the reader were sure of the first "he," he could not come nearer +than a guess at the reference of the second "he." The third personal +pronoun--he, she, it--in all its cases is especially uncertain in its +references. + +The first sentence below is from an English grammar. The second is +from a recently published biography. Both are obscure in the reference +of the pronouns. + + "When 'self' is added to a pronoun of the First and Second + person, it is preceded by the Possessive case. But when it + is added to a pronoun of the Third person, it is preceded by + a pronoun in the Objective case." + + "I am reminded of Swinburne's view of Providence when he + said that he never saw an old gentleman give a sixpence to a + beggar, but he was straightway run over by a 'bus." + +The relative pronoun is also uncertain in its references. + + Some Southerners were among the ship's passengers, of whom a + few had served in the Rebellion. (Obscure reference.) + + Red lights were displayed in a peculiar succession, which + warned of impending storm. (No antecedent.) + +To make the reference of pronouns, personal and relative, distinct, +the antecedent must be made prominent; sometimes the only way out of +the difficulty is a repetition of the antecedent. And the pronoun +should stand near the word to which it refers. Keep associated ideas +together. + +Like pronouns in the uncertainty of their reference are participles. +Either the subject is not expressed, or it is uncertain. + + Hastening up the steps, the door opened. (None.) + + Coming from the spring, with a pail of water in either hand, + he saw her for the first time. (Uncertain.) + +Adverbs are sometimes placed so that they make a sentence ridiculous; +and frequently their meaning is lost by being separated from the words +they modify. "Only" is a word to be watched. Like adverbs are +correlative conjunctions. They are frequently so placed that they do +not join the elements they were intended to unite. + + He seized the young girl as she rose from the water almost + roughly. + + I think I hardly shall. + + I only went as far as the gate. + + "Who shall say, of us who know only of rest and peace by + toil and strife?" + + He not only learned algebra readily but also Latin. + +Phrases and clauses may lose their reference by being removed from the +words they modify. + + Toiling up the hill, he arrived at Hotel Bellevue through a + drizzling rain. + + Addison rose to a post which dukes, the heads of the great + houses of Talbot, Russell, and Bentinck, have thought it an + honor to fill without high birth, and with little property. + + "Fred was liked well; but he had the habit of that class + that cannot get the English Language in the right order when + a little excited." + +All the classes of errors which have been exemplified here are due to +the infringement of one rule: things that belong together in thought +should stand together in composition. Nothing should be allowed to +come between a pronoun, an adjective, an adverb, a correlative, a +phrase, or a clause, and the word it modifies. Sometimes other +modifiers have to be taken into account: where more than one word or +phrase modifies the same word, a trial will have to be made to arrange +them so that there shall be no obscurity or absurdity. Keep related +ideas together; keep unrelated ideas apart. + + Parallel Construction. + +The second principle which helps to make the relation of parts clear +is parallel construction. It has already been explained in paragraphs. +In sentences the commonest errors are in linking an infinitive with a +gerund, a participle with a verb, an active with a passive voice, a +phrase with a clause. The result is sentences like the following:-- + + You cannot persuade him to go and into buying what he does + not want. + + Thus he spoke, and turning to the door. + + The king began to force the collection of duties, and an + army was sent by him to execute his wishes. + + He was resolved to use patience and that he would often + exercise charity. + +Such sentences are offensive to the ear; and were they as long as the +ones below, they would not be clear. + + "You cannot persuade them _to burn_ their books of curious + science; _to banish_ their lawyers from their courts of + laws; or _to quench_ the lights of their assemblies by + refusing to choose those persons who are best read in their + privileges." + + "For though rebellion is declared, it _is_ not _proceeded + against_ as such, nor _have_ any steps _been taken_ towards + the apprehension or conviction of any individual offender, + either on our late or our former Address; but modes of + public coercion _have been adopted,_ and such as have much + more resemblance to a sort of qualified hostility towards an + independent power than the punishment of rebellious + subjects." + + "My Resolutions therefore mean TO ESTABLISH the equity and + justice of a taxation of America by grant and not by + imposition; TO MARK the legal competency of the colony + Assemblies for the support of their government in peace, and + for public aids in time of war; TO ACKNOWLEDGE _that this + legal competency has had_ a dutiful and beneficial exercise; + and _that experience has shown_ the benefit of their grants, + and the futility of Parliamentary taxation as a method of + supply."[49] + +In the second sentence Burke has used a passive voice when it would +certainly be more elegant to change to the active. "Is proceeded +against" is surely awkward, but for uniformity and resulting clearness +he has retained the passive. In the last sentence the infinitives "to +establish," "to mark," and "to acknowledge" are in the same +construction; they are objects of "mean." Then comes a change of form +to show that the clauses "that this legal competency has had," etc., +and "that experience has shown," etc., are in a like relation to the +infinitive "to acknowledge." Though the last clause by reason of the +punctuation looks correlative with the others, it is not related as +object to the verb "mean," as the others are, but it is the object of +"to acknowledge." There could hardly be a better example of the value +of parallel constructions for the purpose of avoiding confusion, and +linking together parts that are related. + + Balanced Sentences. + +Parallel constructions are used in balanced sentences. In balanced +sentences one part is balanced against another,--a noun and a noun, an +adjective and an adjective, phrase and phrase. Balanced sentences are +especially suited to express antithesis, the figure of speech where +two ideas are sharply opposed to each other. In the following from +Newman, the balancing is admirable: "Inebriated with the cup of +insanity, and flung upon the stream of recklessness, she dashes down +the cataract of nonsense and whirls amid the pools of confusion." This +is not antithesis, however; but the following from Macaulay is: "She +seems to have written about the Elizabethan age, because she had read +much about it; she seems, on the other hand, to have read a little +about the age of Addison, because she had determined to write about +it." + +The danger in the use of balanced sentences is excess. Macaulay is +very fond of brilliant contrasts. _But_ is a very common word with +him. In some cases the reader feels that for the sake of the figure he +has forced the truth. Balanced sentences are palpably artificial, and +should be used but sparingly. + +There is, however, but little danger of overdoing the parallel +construction where there is no antithesis. The parts of succeeding +sentences do not resemble each other so much in thought that there is +great danger of resulting monotony in its expression. However, should +the difficulty arise, the monotony may be broken up by a trifling +variation. Macaulay has done this well in the sentences quoted on page +186, beginning with the words, "For his sake empires had risen, and +flourished, and decayed," and continuing to the end of the paragraph. + + Use of Connectives. + +The third method of securing coherence in a sentence is by the use of +connectives. The skillful use of prepositions and conjunctions +indicates a master of words. The use of connectives has been discussed +when treating of emphasis secured by subdual of unimportant details. +Such parts are connected, and in a very definite way. The relations +are evident. Two examples will illustrate. The first group of +sentences are the fragments of but one of Irving's. + + He did not look to the right or left. He did not notice the + scene. The scene was of rural wealth. He had often gloated + on this scene. He went straight to the stable. He kicked and + cuffed his steed several times, and so forth. + +Now note the value of prepositions in giving these separate sentences +coherence. + + "Without looking to the right or left to notice the scene of + rural wealth, on which he had so often gloated, he went + straight to the stable, and with several hearty cuffs and + kicks roused his steed most unceremoniously from the + comfortable quarters in which he was soundly sleeping, + dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole valleys of + timothy and clover." + +The next also is from Irving, and shows the skillful use of +conjunctions to point out unerringly the relation of the clauses in a +sentence. + + "What seemed particularly odd to Rip was that, though these + folks were evidently amusing themselves, yet they maintained + the gravest faces, the most mysterious silence, and were, + withal, the most melancholy party of pleasure he had ever + witnessed." + +Coherence, the principle of structure that surely holds the parts of a +sentence together, is of greater importance than Mass. Upon Coherence +depends the meaning of a sentence; upon Mass the force with which the +meaning is expressed. That the meaning may be clear, it is necessary +that the relation of the parts shall be perfectly evident. This +lucidity is gained by placing related parts near together, and +conversely, by separating unrelated ideas; by using parallel +constructions for parallel thoughts; and by indicating relations by +the correct use of prepositions and conjunctions. + +To summarize, sentences are the elements of discourse. The ability of +a sentence to effect with certainty its purpose depends upon Unity, +Mass, and Coherence. A sentence must contain all that is needed to +express the whole thought, but it must contain no more. A sentence +must be arranged so that its important parts shall be prominent. +Position and proportion are the means of emphasis in a sentence. By +placing the important words near the major marks of punctuation, by +arranging the parts in a climax or a period, by forcing words out of +the natural order, and by subduing unimportant details, a sentence is +massed to give the important elements their relative emphasis. Last, +the parts of a sentence should be arranged so that their relations +shall be clear and unmistakable. Proximity of related parts, parallel +construction for parallel ideas, and connectives are the surest means +of securing Coherence in a sentence. + + + SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS + + + SILAS MARNER. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 83.) + +On page 18 put together the sentence beginning "Every man's work," +etc., with the next. What connective and what punctuation will you +use? What is the difference in effect? What one of the relations of a +compound sentence does the second part bear to the first? + +On page 26 could you make two sentences of the sentence beginning, +"Raveloe lay low among the bushy trees"? Would it be as well? Would it +be better? + +On page 35 do the three parts of the compound sentence beginning, "He +would have liked," etc., belong to one sentence? Which one? + +Is it right to say, "He would have liked to spring," or would it be +better to say, "He would have liked to have sprung"? + +Do you think colons are used too frequently in Silas Marner? Compare +their use with their use in Hawthorne's Stories and Irving's Sketches. + +In the sentence beginning, "Let him live," etc., at the bottom of page +94, is "a possible state of mind in some possible person not yet +forthcoming," a climax or an anti-climax? Why? + +At the bottom of page 183 why was it necessary to crowd so much into +one sentence? + + + MACAULAY'S ESSAY ON MILTON. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 103.) + +Re-write the sentence on page 33 beginning, "Of all poets," etc., +making it loose. Is it better or worse? + +Why does "here" stand first in the next sentence? + +What poets with whom you are familiar have philosophized too much? + +Is the first sentence of the paragraph beginning in the middle of page +36 periodic or loose? + +How many periodic sentences in this paragraph? + +In the paragraph on pages 37 and 38 trace the relation of the +succeeding sentences. + +At the bottom of page 45 what is the reason for putting first in the +sentence, "of those principles"? What do you think of the massing of +the whole sentence? What has been made emphatic? + +Note the last two sentences at the end of the paragraph on page 58. Is +their arrangement effective? Change one. What is the effect? (See also +the middle of page 64.) + +On page 60 why did he not say, "She grovels like a beast, she hisses +like a serpent, she stings like a scorpion"? + +What arrangement of clauses in the first sentence in the paragraph +beginning at the bottom of page 66? Does it add clearness? + +In the same paragraph find a balanced sentence. + +What advantage is there in the short sentences on page 68? + +In the first sentence of the paragraph, beginning on page 71, read one +of the clauses, "by whom king, church, and aristocracy were trampled +down." What is the effect of the change? + +Is the parallel construction in the last sentence beginning on page 77 +good? Is it good in the last sentence of this paragraph? + +In the next paragraph, why is Macaulay's way better than this: "He was +neither Puritan, free thinker, nor royalist"? + +When a sentence is introduced by a participial phrase or a dependent +clause it is in part or wholly periodic. Does Macaulay frequently use +this introduction? What is the effect upon his style? + +Can you find examples of sentences beginning with a loose structure, +and having within them examples of the periodic structure? + +In the paragraph filling pages 79 and 80 there are many examples of +periodic and parallel structure. Contrast this paragraph with some of +Lamb's paragraphs. + +What is the effect of position upon the phrase, "Even in his hands," +on page 67? + +When Macaulay inverts the order of a sentence does he usually do it +for emphasis or to secure coherence? + +Does he use many pronouns and conjunctions? + +Does he repeat words? + + + BURKE'S SPEECH ON CONCILIATION WITH THE COLONIES. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 100.) + +How many sentences in the first paragraph are periodic? + +What kind of sentences in paragraph 10? + +What is the effect of this paragraph? + +Notice the arrangement of loose and periodic clauses in the last +sentence in paragraph 12. Make this sentence entirely loose. + +In the long sentence in paragraph 25 do the he's and him's all refer +to the same person? + +What would you say of Burke's use of pronouns? + +Find examples of balanced sentences in this oration. + +Are you ever astray regarding Burke's meaning? + +What has he done to gain clearness? + +For what purpose does he frequently use questions? + + + WEBSTER'S BUNKER HILL ORATION. + (Riverside Literature Series, No. 56.) + +What relation has the second sentence of paragraph 1 to the first? + +Is the last sentence in paragraph 3 clear? How has he made it so? + +Compare this sentence with the one beginning at the bottom of page 12. + +In the last sentence of paragraph 6 where does loose structure change +to the periodic? + +In paragraph 7 why would it be a blemish to write, "That we may keep +alive similar sentiments"? + +Why does he repeat "We wish" so many times? Why did he not substitute +synonyms? + +In paragraph 18 why has he used the word "interest" more than once? If +the thought is to be repeated, why not some other word? + +In the eighth sentence of paragraph 21 is the structure periodic or +loose? + +Reverse the order of clauses in the last sentence of paragraph 28. +What is the effect? + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER IX + + WORDS + + +A word is the sign of an idea. Whether the idea be an object, a +quality, an action, simple existence, or a relation, if it be +communicated to another, it must have some sign; in language these +signs are words. Infinitely varied are the ideas man has to express. +Each day, each moment, has its new combination of circumstances; yet +by the common person the effect of the novel situation is described as +"horrid" or "awful" or "perfectly lovely." Three adjectives to +describe all creation! No wonder that people are constantly +misunderstood; that others do not get their ideas. How can they? Do +the best the master can, the thought will not pass from him to his +reader without considerable deflection. He cannot say exactly what he +would. His words do not hold the same meaning for him as for others. +"Mother" to him is a dear woman with a gentle voice, always dressed in +black, sitting by the window of home; to another she is a shrieking +termagant, whose phrases are punctuated by blows. There is not a word +that means exactly the same to two persons; yet with words men must +express their thoughts, their feelings, their hopes, their +purposes,--always changing, ever new,--and for all this shall they use +but a few score of words? Words are the last, least elements of +language; without these least elements, these atoms of language, no +sentence, however simple, can be made; by means of them, the master +drives mobs to frenzy or soothes the pain of eternal loss. The calm +and peace which Emerson knew, we know; the perpetual benediction of +past years which Wordsworth felt, all may feel. These thoughts masters +have expressed in words, but not in three words. Thousands are not +enough accurately to transfer their visions of this changing universe +from them to us. Ideas infinite in their variety demand for their +expression all the means which our language has placed at the disposal +of the master. For this true expression the whole dictionary with its +thousands of words is all too small. + + Need of a Large Vocabulary. + +Whoever hopes to be understood must acquire a full, rich vocabulary. +However clearly he may think, however much he may feel, until he has +words, the thought, the emotion, must remain his alone. To get a +vocabulary, then, is a person's business. He who has it can command +him who has it not. Not in literature alone, but in business,--in +medicine, in law, behind the accountant's desk or the salesman's +counter,--he is master who can say what he means so that the person to +whom he speaks must know just what he means. Now it is a singular +truth that when we read any great author, the words which we do not +understand are remarkably few. Even in Shakespeare there are not many; +and the few are unknown by reason of a constantly changing vocabulary. +It was probably true then, as it would certainly be to-day, that the +large majority of audiences lost not a word of his fifteen thousand, +while they themselves used less than eight hundred. We know what +others say; yet we say nothing ourselves. What a vocabulary one could +accumulate, if from six to eighteen he added only two words a day! +Twelve years, and each year more than seven hundred words! It does not +look a difficult task. Children do more, and never realize the +superiority of their achievement. Nine thousand words at eighteen! +Shakespeare alone used more. Macaulay needed scarcely six thousand. + + Dictionary. + +How shall a vocabulary be accumulated? One method is by the use of a +dictionary; and many persons find it a source of great pleasure. The +genealogy and biography of words are as fascinating to a devoted +philologist as stamps to a philatelist or cathedrals to an architect. +"Canteen" is quite an unassuming little word. Yet imperious Caesar knew +it in its childhood. The Roman camp was laid out like a small city, +with regular streets and avenues. On one of these streets called the +"Via Quintana" all the supplies were kept. When the word passed into +the Italian, it became "cantina;" and cantinas may be found among all +nations who have drawn their language from the Latin. There is this +difference, however: that whereas eatables were to be had in the Roman +quintana, only drinkables can be found in the Italian cantina. When +the English adopted the word, the middle meaning, a place where wines +are stored, a wine-cellar, came to be a small flask especially fitted +for the rough usage of a soldier's life, in which a necessary supply +of some sort of liquid may be carried. So the name of a street has +become the much-berated canteen of the sutler and the much needed +canteen of the soldier. The dictionary is full of such fascinating +biographies. Still its fascination is not the reason why most people +study the dictionary: it is because such a study is necessary for the +person who hopes for an accurate knowledge of the words he reads. It +is not impossible to know "pretty nearly what it means" from the +context; but no master uses words without knowing exactly what they +mean. Certainty of meaning precedes frequency of use; and this +necessary confidence is gained from a study of the dictionary. In a +general way we know all the words of Macaulay's vocabulary; but the +average man uses only eight hundred of them. His knowledge of words is +no more than an indistinct, mumbling knowledge. To lift each word out +of its context, to make it a distinct, living entity, capable of +serving, the definition must be studied. Then the student knows just +what service the word is fitted for, and finds a pleasure in being +competent to command that service. The dictionary is a necessity to +the person who hopes to use words. + + Study of Literature. + +Yet the knowledge of words that the student derives from the +dictionary is not sufficient. When one hears an educated foreigner +speak, he detects little errors in his use of words,--errors which are +not the fault of definition, but errors in the idiomatic use of words. +This use cannot be learned from a dictionary, where words are studied +individually, but only by studying them in combination with other +words where the influence of one word upon another may be noted. There +is little difference in the size of a pile of stones, whether we say a +great pile of stones or a large pile of stones; but a great man is of +much more consequence than a large man. A dictionary could hardly have +told a foreigner this. A man may pursue or chase a robber, as the +author wishes; but he may not chase a course. Prepositions are +especially liable to be misused, and their correct use comes from a +study of literature, not of the dictionary. The nice and +discriminating refinements in the use of words are learned by careful +reading. When a phrase is met, such as "the steep and solitary eastern +heaven," where each word has been born to a new beauty; or this, "And +the sweet city with her dreaming spires," where the adjectives "sweet" +and "dreaming" have a richer content, they should be regarded with +great care and greeted with even more delight than words entirely new. +How to read that we may gain this complete mastery of words, Mr. +Ruskin has best told us in "Sesame and Lilies." Every person should +know "Of Kings' Treasuries" by reading and re-reading. Literature, the +way masters have used words, will furnish a knowledge of the nicer +discriminations in their use. + +The dictionary and literature are the sources of a full and refined +vocabulary. But the vocabulary which may be perfectly understood is +not entirely in one's possession until it is used. Seek the first +opportunity to use the newly acquired word. It will be hard to utter +it; you will feel an effort in getting it out. Only once, however; +after that it rises as easily as any old familiar word. Because the +companion with whom you speak is always "just as mad as" she can be, +is no reason why you may not at times be vexed, annoyed, aggravated, +exasperated, or angry. Men are not always either "perfectly lovely" or +"awful;" neither are all ladies "jewels." There are degrees of +villainy and nobility; and all jewels have not the same lustre. Know +what you want to say, and find the one word that will exactly say it. +This costs work, it is true; but what is there worth having which has +not cost some one work? Do the work; search for the word; then use it. +In this way a vocabulary becomes a real possession. + +The words which a person may use are generally described as reputable, +national, and present. Words must be reputable; that is, sanctioned by +the authority of the creators of English literature. They must be +national; words that are the property of the mass of the people, not +of a clique or a district. And they must be of the present; Chaucer's +vocabulary, though it be the source of English, will not satisfy the +conditions of to-day. + + Vulgarisms are not reputable. + +First, words must be of reputable use. No person would consider +vulgarisms reputable. When a person says "I hain't got none," he has +reached about the acme of vulgarisms, the language of the illiterate. +Grammar has been disregarded; a word has been used which is not a +word; and another word has no reason for its appearance in the +sentence. Yet sometimes this expression is heard; seldom seen written. +It is always set down to the account of an illiterate home; for no one +can reach a high school without knowing its grammatical errors. The +unerring use of _don't, me, I, lie, lay, set,_ and _sit,_ is not so +assured that the list can be omitted. Adjectives are used for adverbs; +"real good" is not yet forgotten. Nouns are called upon to do the work +of verbs. This is the language of the illiterate, and it should be +avoided; for vulgarisms are not reputable. + + Slang is not reputable. + +Neither is slang reputable. He would be a prude who would not +recognize that slang is sometimes right to the point; and that many of +our strongest idioms were originally slang. Still, although many +phrases which to-day are called slang were at one time reputable, the +fact of their respectable birth cannot save them from the slight +imputation that now they are slang. Notwithstanding the fact that we +owe some of our strongest idioms to slang, the free use of slang +always vulgarizes. It generally is called upon to supply a deficiency +either in thought or in the power of expression. People too lazy to +think, too indolent to read, with little to say, and but a few slang +phrases to say it with, may be allowed to practice this vulgarity; but +cultured persons in cultured conversation will eschew all acquaintance +with it. To find it in the serious composition of educated persons +always raises a question of their refinement. It is the stock in trade +of the lazy and the uncultured. It is used to divert attention from +poverty of thought and a threadbare vocabulary. It is unnecessary for +the complete expression of thought by the scholar and man of +refinement. + +It is a real misfortune that many good words have been tarnished by +the handling of the illiterate. "Awful," "horrid," and "lovely" are +good words; but they have been sullied by common use. So common have +they become that they approach slang. They may be rescued from that +charge in each person's writing, if he shows by accurate use of them +that he is master of their secret strength. + +Milton wrote in "Paradise Lost:"-- + + "No! let us rather choose, + Armed with Hell-flames and fury, all at once + O'er Heav'n's high towers to force resistless way, + Turning our tortures into _horrid_ arms + Against the Torturer." + +Lord Lytton makes Richelieu exclaim:-- + + "Look where she stands! Around her form I draw + The _awful_ circle of our solemn church." + +And in the New Testament we read:-- + + "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever + things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever + things are pure, whatsoever things are _lovely,_ whatsoever + things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if + there be any praise, think on these things." + +There is no question here of the words; they have all the freshness +and vigor of their youth. Do not hesitate to use such words exactly. +When the thought calls for them, they say with certainty what can be +expressed only doubtfully by other words. + + Words must be national. Provincialisms. + +Second, words must be of national use. They cannot be words confined +to a locality. When Morris talks of a house that has been "gammoned," +he deprives a large number of readers of his meaning. "Gums" and +"brasses" may be good in certain districts of England, but in +literature they should not be used, for they would not generally be +understood. For the same reason much of the common conversation of the +South is foreign to a native of New York. Whoever employs the language +of a locality limits his circle of readers to that locality. To write +for all he must use the language of all; he must avoid provincialisms. + + Technical and Bookish Words. + +Like words that are used by a small region are words which are +understood by a clique of persons. Scholars are inclined to use a +scholarly vocabulary. The biologist has one; the chemist another; the +philosopher a third. This technical vocabulary may be a necessity at +times; but when a specialist addresses the public, his words must be +the words which an average cultured man can understand. Such words can +be found if the writer will look for them; if he does not, his work +can scarcely be called literature. Technical words and bookish terms +are not words of national use. + +The following by Josiah Royce illustrates how clearly a most abstruse +topic can be handled by a man willing to take the trouble:[50]-- + + "If you ask what sort of thing this substance is, the first + answer is, that it is something eternal; and that means, not + that it lasts a good while, but that no possible temporal + view of it could exhaust its nature. All things that happen + result from the one substance. This surely means that what + happens now and what happened millions of years ago are, for + the substance, equally present and necessary results. To + illustrate once more in my own way: A spider creeping back + and forth across a circle could, if she were geometrically + disposed, measure out in temporal succession first this + diameter, and then that. Crawling first over one diameter, + she would say, 'I now find this so long.' Afterwards + examining another diameter, she would say, 'It has now + happened that what I have just measured proves to be + precisely as long as what I measured some time since, and no + longer.' The toil of such a spider might last many hours, + and be full of such successive measurements, each marked by + a spun thread of web. But the true circle itself within + which the web was spun, the circle in actual space as the + geometer knows it, would its nature be thus a series of + events, a mere succession of spun threads? No, the true + circle would be timeless, a truth founded in the nature of + space, outlasting, preceding, determining all the weary + web-spinning of this time-worn spider. Even so we, spinning + our web of experience in all its dreary complications in the + midst of the eternal nature of the world-embracing + substance, imagine that our lives somehow contain true + novelty, discover for the substance what it never knew + before, invent new forms of being. We fancy our past wholly + past, and our future wholly unmade. We think that where we + have yet spun no web, there is nothing, and that what we + long ago spun has vanished, broken by the winds of time into + nothingness. It is not so. For the eternal substance there + is no before and after; all truth is truth. 'Far and forgot + to me is near,' it says. In the unvarying precision of its + mathematical universe, all is eternally written. + + 'Not all your piety nor wit + Can lure it back to cancel half a line, + Nor all your tears wash out one word of it.'" + + Foreign Words. + +Words and phrases from a foreign language should be used only as a +last resort. _Bon mot, sine qua non,_ and _dolce far niente_ are all +very apt, and to a person like Mr. Lowell, who was intimately +acquainted with many languages, they may come as soon as their English +equivalents. In the case of such a person, the reason why they should +not be used is that the reader cannot understand them. But when a +young smatterer uses them to advertise his calling acquaintance with a +language, he is but proclaiming his own lack of good taste. In his +composition they are as ineffective to make it respectable as a large +diamond on a gamester's finger to make him an honored gentleman. Use +the English language when writing for English-speaking people. It has +the fullest, richest vocabulary in the world. It will not be found +unequal to the task of expressing your thoughts. + + Words in Present Use. + +Third, words should be in present use. Words may be so new that people +do not know them; they may have passed out of use after years of good +service. Of new words, but little can be said. The language constantly +changes. New discoveries and inventions demand new words. What ones +will be more than temporary cannot be prophesied. "Blizzard" and +"mugwump" were new but a short time ago: the latter is dying from +disuse, the former has come to stay. In this uncertainty one thing can +be said, however. No word which has not secured recognition should be +used by a young person, if by reputable words already in the language +he can express his meaning. And just as he should not be the first to +take up an untried word, so the young writer should not be the last to +drop a dead one. There is at present a sort of fad for old English. A +large number of words that have been resting quietly in their graves +for centuries have been called forth. Some may enjoy a second life; +most of them will feel only the weakness of a second obsolescence. +"Foreword" and "inwit" were good once; but "preface" and "conscience" +mean as much and have the advantage of being alive. To be understood +use the words of the present. + + Words in their Present Meaning. + +Use words in their present signification. Not only has language cast +out many words; it has changed many others so that they are hardly +recognized. When Chaucer wrote, + + "Ther may no man Mercury mortify + But hit be with his brother knowleching," + +"mortify" meant to make dead, to kill. To-day a lady may say she was +mortified to death; but that is hyperbole. In "Paradise Lost" Satan +may + + "Through the palpable obscure find out + His uncouth way." + +But a person to-day is not justified in using "uncouth" for "unknown." +The works of Shakespeare and Milton abound in words whose life has +been prolonged to the present, but whose signification has been +changed. The writer who seeks to use words with these old meanings is +standing in his own light. Such use always attracts attention to the +words themselves, and by so much subtracts attention from the thought. + + Words of Latin and Saxon Origin. + +Words that are in good use have been divided into two classes, as they +have been drawn from two sources. Some differences between Anglo-Saxon +and Latin words are marked. Saxon words are generally short; Latin +words long. The first are the words of home and are concerned with the +necessities of life; the second are the words of the court and the +adornments of polite society. The former made the foundation of our +language and gave to it its idiomatic strength; the latter came later, +and added to the strength of the language its grace and refinement. + +In our speech there can be no doubt that short words are used when the +purpose is to be understood quickly, even harshly, while the longer +words are frequently employed for saying unpleasant things pleasantly. +Euphemism, the choice of words not harsh for harsh ideas, has its +uses. It is not always wrong to say, "He was taken away" for "He was +killed." But when the plain truth is to be spoken, when, as in most +composition, the object is to be understood, the words should be +chosen which exactly express the thought, be those words Latin or +Saxon. For any one to say, "Was launched into eternity" for "Was +hanged," or "When the fatal noose was adjusted about the neck of the +unfortunate victim of his own unbridled passions" for "When the halter +was put around his neck," is a useless parade of vocabulary.[51] One +knows that such phrases are made by a writer who is ignorant of the +value of words, or by a penny-a-liner, willing to sacrifice every +effect of language to the immediate needs of his purse. Such writing +has no power. The words are dictated by too low a motive to have any +force in them. Let a writer go straight to the point as directly as +the hindrances of language will allow. Even then his expression will +lag behind his thought. + +This does not mean that one is to use Saxon words always. It means +that one shall use the words that say exactly what is to be said, so +that the reader can get the exact thought with the least outlay of +attention to the words. Latin words are as common as Saxon words. To +search out a Saxon word because it is Saxon and short is as +reprehensible as to use the indirection of Latin words where +directness is wanted. Latin words have a place; they express the finer +distinctions and gradations of thought. In the discussion of any +question requiring nice precision of statement Latin words are +necessary. In the following from Newman, it would be difficult, +perhaps impossible, to substitute words of Anglo-Saxon origin for the +words of Latin origin, and could it be done, the passage would not +then have the clearness it now has from his use of common words, +though they be Latin:-- + + "I mean then by the Supreme Being, one who is simply + self-dependent, and the only Being who is such; moreover, + that He is without beginning or Eternal, and the only + Eternal; that in consequence He has lived a whole eternity + by Himself; and hence that He is all-sufficient, sufficient + for his own blessedness, and all-blessed, and ever-blessed. + Further, I mean a Being who, having these prerogatives, has + the Supreme Good, or rather is the Supreme Good, or has all + the attributes of good in infinite intenseness; all wisdom, + all truth, all justice, all love, all holiness, all + beautifulness; who is omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent; + ineffably one, absolutely perfect; and such that what we do + not know of Him is far more wonderful than what we do and + can."[52] + +Latin words, moreover, have a fullness of sound which gives them an +added weight and dignity. One would hesitate long before changing one +of Milton's big-sounding phrases, even if he were not compelled to +sacrifice the metre. In Webster's orations there is a dignity, a +sublimity, gained by the use of full-mouthed polysyllables. Supposing +he had said at the beginning of his eulogy of Adams and Jefferson, +"This is a new sight" instead of "This is an unaccustomed spectacle," +the whole effect of dignified utterance commensurate with the occasion +would have been lost. The oration abounds in examples of reverberating +cadences. Milton's sentences are a stately procession of gorgeous +words: the dignified pomp of the advance is occasioned by the wealth +of essential beauty and historical association in the individual +words:-- + + "That proud honor claimed + Azazel as his right, a Cherube tall: + Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd + Th' imperial ensign, which, full high advanc't + Shon like a meteor streaming to the wind, + With gemms and golden lustre rich emblaz'd + Seraphic arms and trophies; all the while + Sonorous metall blowing martial sounds: + At which the universal host up-sent + A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond + Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. + All in a moment through the gloom were seen + Ten thousand banners rise into the air, + With orient colours waving; with them rose + A forrest huge of spears; and thronging helms + Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array + Of depth immeasurable." ("Paradise Lost.") + +The choice of words does not depend on whether they are of Latin or of +Saxon origin. In use it will be found that short words, like short +sentences, give more directness and force to the composition; while +long words have a dignified elegance and refinement of discrimination +not the property of monosyllables. No one should think, however, that +short words cause the force or long words cause the dignity. These +qualities belong to the thought; the completeness of its expression is +approached by a choice in words. Choose words for their fitness to say +what you think, or feel, or purpose, having no regard for their +origin. + + General and specific. + +Words are also classified as general and specific. By a general word +is meant a word common to or denoting a large number of ideas. By +specific is meant a word that denotes or specifies a single idea. +"Man," "move," "bad," are general and denote a large number of ideas; +while "Whittier," "glide," "thieving," are specific, denoting but one +man, one movement, one kind of badness. "Man" denotes the whole human +race, while it implies a feeling, thinking, speaking, willing animal. +"Whittier" denotes but a single person, but beside all the common +qualities implied by the, word "man," "Whittier" suggests, among other +things, a homely face, serious and kind, a poet, and an anti-slavery +worker. + + Use Words that suggest most. + +As a principle in composition, it may be said that the more a word or +phrase can be made to imply or suggest, while at the same time +expressing all that the writer wishes to say, the more valuable does +that word or phrase become. Yet it should be remembered that words may +be so specific that they do not include all that the author wishes to +include. For instance, if instead of "Blessed are the peacemakers," +the beatitude should be made to read "Blessed are the Quakers," though +this organized body of persons labor for the blessings of peace, yet +the meaning would be restricted by the limited denotation of the term. +It does not include enough. So in almost all of Emerson's writing, it +would not be possible to express his entire thought with more specific +words. Therefore regard must always be had for the thought,--that it +may be expressed in its perfect fullness and entirety. Keeping this +full expression in view, those words are strongest, truest, richest, +which suggest most. To say of a person that he is a bad man is one +thing; that he is a traitor is quite another; but when one writes that +he is a veritable Judas, words fail to keep pace with suggestions, and +reason yields to emotion. Specific words, if they denote the whole +idea, are as much better than general terms as their suggestion +exceeds the suggestion of general terms. + + Synecdoche, Metonymy. + +Much of the force of figures of speech is derived from the suggestive +quality of the specific words employed. When a man calls another a +dog, he has used a metaphor. He has availed himself of a term that +gathers up all the snarling qualities of the worst of the dog species. +The figure has high suggestive power. Synecdoche, too, that figure of +speech in which a part is used for the whole or the whole for a part, +employs a term of higher suggestive power for one of lower connoting +force. "All hands took hold" is better than "All persons went to +work." Metonymy is the substitution of the name of one thing for that +of another to which the former bears a known and close relation. The +most common of these known and close relations are those of cause and +its effects, of container and the thing contained, and of sign and the +thing signified. "He has read Shakespeare," "He was addicted to the +use of the bottle," "All patriots fight for the flag," are examples of +metonymy. All these figures depend in large degree for their power +upon the greater suggestiveness of specific words; and their use gives +to composition an efficiency and directness commensurate with the +greater connoting value of the specific words. + + Care in Choice of Specific Words. + +A writer should keep in mind the fact that the same word may mean +widely different things to two persons. For this reason the specific +word that appeals to him most may be of no value in addressing others. +"Free silver" means to one set of men the withdrawal of money from +investment, consequent stagnation in business, followed by the closing +of factories and penury among laborers. To others it means three +dollars a day for unskilled labor, fire, clothes, and something to +eat. Again, if one wished to present the horrors of devastating +disease, in the South he would mention yellow fever, in the North +smallpox; but to a lady who saw six little brothers and sisters dead +from it in one week, three carried to the graveyard on the hillside +one chill November morning, all the terrors of contagious disease are +suggested by the word "diphtheria." Words are weighted with our +experiences. They are laden with what we have lived into them. As +persons have different experiences, each word carries to each person a +different meaning. The wise writer chooses those specific words which +suggest most to the men he addresses,--in general, to the average man. + +There are many words that carry some of the same suggestions to all. +These words are connected with the common things of life: such words +as "home," "death," "mother," and the many more that have been with +all people from childhood. They are simple little words crowded with +experiences. Such words carry a weight of suggestion not found in +strange new words. It is for this reason that simple language goes +straight to the heart; it is so loaded with life. Of two expressions +that convey the thought with equal accuracy, always choose the +simpler. + +The following poems--one by Tennyson,[53] steeped in pain, perfect in +its phrasing; the other by Kipling, rising to a conception of a true +artist's work, never before so simply expressed--are both written in +home words, little words, but words all know, words that carry to all +a common meaning:-- + + "Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean: + Tears from the depth of some divine despair + Rise in the heart and gather to the eyes, + In looking on the happy autumn fields, + And thinking of the days that are no more. + + "Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail + That brings our friends up from the underworld; + Sad as the last which reddens over one + That sinks with all we love below the verge; + So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. + + "Ah! sad and strange as in dark summer dawns + The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds + To dying ears, when unto dying eyes + The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; + So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. + + "Dear as remembered kisses after death, + And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned + On lips that are for others; deep as love, + Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; + O Death in Life, the days that are no more!" + + + L'ENVOI.[54] + + "When Earth's last picture is painted + and the tubes are twisted and dried, + When the oldest colors have faded, + and the youngest critic has died, + We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it-- + lie down for an aeon or two, + Till the Master of All Good Workmen + shall put us to work anew! + + "And those that were good shall be happy: + they shall sit in a golden chair; + They shall splash at a ten-league canvas + with brushes of comets' hair; + They shall find real saints to draw from-- + Magdalene, Peter, and Paul; + They shall work for an age at a sitting + and never be tired at all! + + "And only the Master shall praise us, + and only the Master shall blame; + And no one shall work for money, + and no one shall work for fame; + But each for the joy of the working, + and each, in his separate star, + Shall draw the Thing as he sees It + for the God of Things as They Are!" + + Avoid Hackneyed Phrases. + +Much like general terms, which mean something or nothing, are +expressions that have become trite and hackneyed. At some time they +were accurate phrases, saying just what was needed. By being used for +all sorts of purposes, they have lost the original thought of which +they were the accurate expression. They have no freshness. The +sounding phrases repeated in the pulpit, or the equally empty phrases +of the scientist, however good they were at their inception, are, in +the writing of many persons, but theological and scientific cant +relied upon by ignorant people to cover up the vacuity of their +thought. One's own expression, even though it be not so elegant and +graceful, is better than any worn-out, hackneyed phrase. Think for +yourself; then say what you have thought in the best language you can +find yourself. + + "Fine Writing." + +"Fine writing," the subjection of noble words to ignoble service, is +to be avoided. Mr. Micawber was addicted to this pomposity of +language; and Dickens, by the creation of this character, has done +literature a real service, by showing how absurd it is, how valueless +for anything more than humor. "'Under the impression,' said Mr. +Micawber, 'that your peregrinations in this metropolis have not as yet +been extensive, and that you might have some difficulty in penetrating +the arcana of the Modern Babylon in the direction of the City Road--in +short,' said Mr. Micawber, in another burst of confidence, 'that you +might lose yourself--I shall be happy to call this evening, and +install you in the knowledge of the nearest way.'" Here are great +words in profusion to dress out a little thought. "Fine writing" is as +much out of taste as over-dressing. When the thought calls for noble +expression, then all one's energies should be bent to finding noble +phrases; but for common things common expressions are the only ones in +good taste. + + In Prose avoid Poetical Words. + +Much like "fine writing" is the use of poetical words in prose. _Enow, +erstwhile, besprent, methinks, agone,_ and _thine_ are examples of a +large class of words which, though in perfectly good taste in poetry, +are in extremely poor taste in prose. They are out of place; and so +attract attention to themselves, not to the thought they express. When +writing prose, avoid poetical words. + +All of this comes at last to one rule: be exact, be accurate in the +choice of words. Not a word that half expresses the thought, not even +one that is pretty near, but the only word that exactly expresses the +meaning, that word must be used. It is not a question of long or +short, of Latin or Saxon, of general or specific; it is a question of +accuracy or inaccuracy, the whole or a part, the whole or too much, of +just right or about right. No one would entirely misunderstand the +following sentence; and just as certainly no one would derive from +these words the impression the author had when he wrote it. He has +phrased it as follows: "Another direction in which free education is +most valuable to society, is the way in which it removes the gulf +affixed between the rich and poor." The boy wanted the opening +sentence to sound big, and forgot that the first use of words is +accurately to express the thought. In this sentence are the commonest +errors in the choice of words. "Most valuable" says more than truth; +"direction" says less than truth; and "affixed" does not say anything. +Had the boy studied the dictionary, had he been familiar with the +Bible, had he carefully considered the figure he introduced with the +word "gulf," he would not have written this incongruous sentence; he +would not have been inaccurate. Spare no pains in your effort to be +exact. Search through the words of your own vocabulary; if these fall +short, find others in the dictionary. Get the word that exactly +expresses the thought. Let no fine-sounding or high-born word trick +you into saying what you do not mean. Be master of your words; never +let fine expressions enslave you. In a word, be accurate. + +Such painstaking labor has its reward not alone in the increased power +of expression; there is also a corresponding growth in the ability to +observe accurately and to think clearly. No man can write such +descriptions as Ruskin and Stevenson have written without seeing +accurately; nor can a man speak with the definite certainty of Burke +without thinking clearly. The desire to be accurate in expression +drives a writer to be accurate in thinking. To think is the highest +that man can hope from education. Anything that contributes to this +highest attainment should be undertaken with joy. Whether planning a +story or constructing an argument; whether excluding irrelevant matter +or including what contributes to the perfection of the whole; whether +massing the material so that all the parts shall receive their due +emphasis; whether relating the parts so that the thought advances +steadily and there can be no misunderstanding,--in all this the +student will find arduous labor. Yet after all this is done,--when the +theme, the paragraphs, and the sentences contain exactly what is +needed, are properly massed, and are set in perfect order,--then comes +the long labor of revision, which does not stop until the exact word +is hunted out. For upon words, at last, we are dependent for the +expression of our observation and thought. He is most entirely master +of his thoughts who can accurately express them: clearly, that he +cannot be misunderstood; forcefully, that he will not be unread; and +elegantly, that he give the reader joy. And this mastery he evinces in +a finely discriminating choice of words. + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER X + + FIGURES OF SPEECH + + + Figurative Language. + +There is a generally accepted division of language into literal and +figurative. Language that is literal uses words in their accepted and +accurate meaning. Figurative language employs words with meanings not +strictly literal, but varying from their ordinary definitions. + +Much of our language is figurative. When a person says, "He is a +bright boy," he has used the word "bright" in a sense that is not +literal; the use is figurative. In the following there is hardly a +sentence that has not some variation from literal language. + + "Down by the river there is, as yet, little sign of spring. + Its bed is all choked with last year's reeds, trampled about + like a manger. Yet its running seems to have caught a + happier note, and here and there along its banks flash + silvery wands of palm. Right down among the shabby burnt-out + underwood moves the sordid figure of a man. His hat is + battered, and he wears no collar. I don't like staring at + his face, for he has been unfortunate. Yet a glimpse tells + me that he is far down the hill of life, old and + drink-corroded at fifty." (Le Gallienne.) + +In the second sentence there are at least three figurative +expressions. "Bed," "choked," and "trampled like a manger" are not +literal. So, too, in the next sentence there are two beautiful +variations from literal expression. Going on through the +selection the reader will find frequently some happy change from +literalness,--sometimes just a word, sometimes a phrase. + +Figurative language is of great value. It adds clearness to our +speech; it gives it more force; or it imparts to literature beauty. +The last use is the most common; indeed, it is so common that +sometimes the other uses are overlooked. However, when such a sentence +as the following is read, the comparison is of value in giving +_clearness_ to the thought, although it does not state the literal +truth. + + "In the early history of our planet, the moon was flung off + into space, as mud is thrown from a turning wagon wheel." + +_Force_ is often gained by the use of figurative language. The +following is a good illustration:-- + + "Neither the perseverance of Holland, nor the activity of + France, nor the dextrous and firm sagacity of English + enterprise, ever carried this most perilous mode of hardy + industry to the extent to which it has been pushed by these + people [Americans]; a people who are still, as it were, but + in the gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone of + manhood." + +The next is an illustration of a figure used for _beauty:--_ + + "Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, + Having some business, do entreat her eyes + To twinkle in their spheres till they return." + +_A figure of speech is any use of words with a sense varying from +their literal definition, to secure clearness, force, or beauty of +expression._ + +Figures add so much to the attractiveness of literature, that every +one would like to use them. Yet figures should never be sought for. +When they come of themselves, when they insist on being used, and are +a part of the thought itself, and seem to be its only adequate +expression, then they should be used. In most cases figures are +ornaments of literature; it must be remembered that ornament is always +secondary, and that no ornament is good unless it is in entire harmony +with the thing it is to beautify. (See Preface, p. viii.) + +When a figure suggests itself, it must be so clearly seen that there +can be no mixing of images. Some people are determined to use figures, +and they force them into every possible place. The result is that +there is often a confusion of comparisons. The following is bad: "His +name went resounding in golden letters through the corridors of time." +Just how a name could resound "in golden letters" is a difficult +question. Longfellow used the last phrase beautifully:-- + + "Not from the grand old masters, + Not from the bards sublime, + Whose distant footsteps echo + Through the corridors of time." + +Of the two hundred or more figures of speech which have been named and +defined, only a few need be mentioned here. And the purpose is not +that you shall use them more, but that you may recognize them when you +meet them in literature. + + Figures based upon Likeness. + +There is a large group of figures of speech based upon likeness. One +thing is so much like another that it is spoken of as like it, or, +more frequently, one is said to be the other. Yet if the things +compared are very much alike, there is no figure. To say that a cat is +like a panther is not considered figurative. It is when in objects +essentially different we detect and name some likeness that we say +there is a figure of speech. There is at first thought no likeness +between hope and a nurse; yet were it not for hope most persons would +die. Thackeray was right when he said that "Hope is the nurse of +life." + +The principal figures based upon likeness are metaphor, epithet, +personification, apostrophe, allegory, and simile. + +_A metaphor is an implied comparison between things essentially +different, but having some common quality._ Metaphor is by far the +most common figure of speech; indeed, so common is it that figurative +language is often called metaphorical. + + "Tombs are the clothes of the dead; a grave is but a plain + suit, and a rich monument is one embroidered." + + "Let me choose; + For as I am, I live upon the rack." + + "The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep." + +Only a little removed from metaphor is epithet. _An epithet is a word, +generally a descriptive adjective or a noun, used, not to give +information, but to impart strength or ornament to diction._ It is +like a shortened metaphor. It is very often found in impassioned prose +or verse. Notice that in each epithet there is a comparison; that the +figure is based on likeness. + + "Here are sever'd lips + Parted with _sugar_ breath." + + "Base _dog!_ why shouldst thou stand here?" + +_Personification is a figure that ascribes to inanimate things, +abstract ideas, and the lower animals the attributes of human beings._ +It is plain that there must be some resemblance of the lower to the +higher, else this figure could not be used. Personification, like the +epithet, is a modification of the metaphor. Indeed, in every +personification there is also a metaphor. + + "When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees + And they did make no noise." + + "But ever heaves and moans the restless Deep." + +_Apostrophe is an address to the dead as if living; to abstract ideas +or inanimate objects as if they were persons._ It is a variety of +personification. + + "O Caledonia! stern and wild, + Meet nurse for a poetic child!" + + "Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower, + Thou's met me in an evil hour; + For I maun crush amang the stoure + Thy slender stem." + + "Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour." + +_Allegory is a narrative in which material things and circumstances +are used to illustrate and enforce high spiritual truths._ It is a +continued personification. Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" and Spenser's +"Faerie Queene" are good examples of allegory. + +All these figures are varieties of metaphor. In them there is always +an implied, not an expressed, comparison. + +_A simile is an expressed comparison between unlike things that have +some common quality._ This comparison is usually indicated by _like_ +or _as._ + + "Ilbrahim was like a domesticated sunbeam, brightening moody + countenances, and chasing away the gloom from the dark + corners of the cottage." + +(Does this figure change to another in its course?) + + "How far that little candle throws its beams! + So shines a good deed in a naughty world." + +Of retired Dutch valleys, Irving wrote:-- + + "They are like those little nooks of still water which + border a rapid stream; where we may see the straw and bubble + riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic + harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current." + + Figures based upon Sentence Structure. + +There are a number of figures that express emotion by simply changing +the normal order of the sentence. Among these are inversion, +exclamation, interrogation, climax, and irony. + +_Inversion is a figure intended to give emphasis to the thought by a +change from the natural order of the words in a sentence._ + + "_Thine_ be the glory!" + + "_Few_ were the words they said." + + "He saved others; _himself_ he cannot save." + +_Exclamation is an expression of strong emotion in abrupt, inverted, +or elliptical phrases._ It is among sentences what the interjection is +among words. + + "How far that little candle throws its beams!" + + "Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!" + +_Interrogation is a figure in which a question is asked, not to get an +answer, but for the sake of emphasis._ + + "Do men gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles?" + + "Fear ye foes who kill for hire? + Will ye to your homes retire?" + + "Am I a coward?" + +_Climax is a figure in which the intensity of the thought and emotion +gradually increases with the successive groups of words or phrases._ +(See p. 211.) + + "Your children do not grow faster from infancy to manhood + than they [the American colonists] spread from families to + communities, from villages to nations." + +_Irony is a figure in which one thing is said and the opposite is +meant._ + + "And Job answered and said, No doubt but ye are the people, + and wisdom shall die with you." + + "O Jew, an upright judge, a learned judge!" + +Four other figures should be mentioned: metonymy, synecdoche, +allusion, and hyperbole. + +_Metonymy calls one thing by the name of another which is closely +related to the first._ The most common relations are cause and effect, +container and thing contained, and sign and the thing signified. + + "From the cradle to the grave is but a day." + + "I did dream of money-bags to-night." + +_Synecdoche is that figure of speech in which a part is put for the +whole, or the whole for a part._ + + "Fifty sail came into harbor." + + "The redcoats are marching." + +_Allusion is a reference to something in history or literature with +which every one is supposed to be acquainted._ + + "A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!" + + Men still sigh for the flesh pots of Egypt; still worship + the golden calf. + + There is no "Open Sesame" to the treasures of learning; they + must be acquired by hard study. + +Milton and Shakespeare are full of allusions to the classic literature +of Greece and Rome. + +_Hyperbole is an exaggerated statement made for effect._ + + "He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, + long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his + sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his + whole frame most loosely hung together." + + "And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw + Millions of acres on us, till our ground, + Singeing his pate against the burning zone, + Make Ossa like a wart!" + + Exercises in Figures. + +Name the following figures. Of those that are based upon likeness, +tell in what the similarity consists. In many of the selections more +than one figure will be found.[55] + + 1. "The long, hard winter of his youth had ended; the + spring-time of his manhood was turning green like the + woods." + + 2. A pig came up to a horse and said, "Your feet are + crooked, and your hair is worth nothing." + + 3. "The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but + war was in his heart; his words were softer than oil, but + they were drawn swords." + + 4. "The lily maid of Astolat." + + 5. "O Truth! O Freedom! how are ye still born + In the rude stable, in the manger nursed!" + + 6. "The birch, most shy and ladylike of trees, + Her poverty, as best she may, retrieves, + And hints at her foregone gentilities + With some saved relics of her wealth of leaves." + + 7. "O friend, never strike sail to a fear! Come into port + grandly, or sail with God the seas!" + + 8. "Primroses smile and daisies cannot frown." + + 9. "How deeply and warmly and spotlessly Earth's nakedness + is clothed!--the 'wool' of the Psalmist nearly two feet + deep. And as far as warmth and protection are concerned, + there is a good deal of the virtue of wool in such a + snow-fall. It is a veritable fleece, beneath which the + shivering earth ('the frozen hills ached with pain,' says + one of our young poets) is restored to warmth." + + 10. "We can win no laurels in a war for independence. + Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor are + there places for us by the side of Solon and Alfred and + other founders of States. Our fathers have filled them." + + 11. "I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my + judgment was as a robe and diadem. + + "I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. + + "I was father to the poor; and the cause which I knew not I + searched out. + + "And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and plucked the spoil + out of his teeth." + + 12. "His head and his heart were so well combined that he + could not avoid becoming a power in his community." + +Spenser, writing of honor, says:-- + + 13. "In woods, in waves, in wars, she wonts to dwell, + And will be found with peril and with pain; + Nor can the man that moulds an idle cell + Unto her happy mansion attain: + Before her gate high God did Sweat ordain, + And wakeful watches ever to abide; + But easy is the way and passage plain + To pleasure's palace: it may soon be spied, + And day and night her doors to all stand open wide." + + 14. "Over the vast green sea of the wilderness, the moon + swung her silvery lamp." + + 15. "The peace of the golden sunshine was supreme. Even a + tiny cloudlet anchored in the limitless sky would not sail + to-day." + + 16. "A short way further along, I come across a boy + gathering palm. He is a town boy, and has come all the way + from Whitechapel thus early. He has already gathered a great + bundle--worth five shillings to him, he says. This same palm + will to-morrow be distributed over London, and those who buy + sprigs of it by the Bank will know nothing of the blue-eyed + boy who gathered it, and the murmuring river by which it + grew. And the lad, once more lost in some squalid court, + will be a sort of Sir John Mandeville to his companions--a + Sir John Mandeville of the fields, with their water-rats, + their birds' eggs, and many other wonders. And one can + imagine him saying, 'And the sparrows there fly right up + into the sun, and sing like angels.' But he won't get his + comrades to believe _that._" + + 17. "We wandered to the Pine Forest + That skirts the Ocean's foam; + The lightest wind was in its nest, + The tempest in its home. + The whispering waves were half asleep, + The clouds were gone to play, + And on the bosom of the deep + The smile of heaven lay; + It seemed as if the hour were one + Sent from beyond the skies + Which scattered from above the sun + The light of Paradise. + + "We paused amid the pines that stood + The giants of the waste, + Tortured by storms to shapes as rude + As serpents interlaced,-- + And soothed by every azure breath + That under heaven is blown, + To harmonies and hues beneath, + As tender as its own: + Now all the tree-tops lay asleep + Like green waves on the sea, + As still as in the silent deep + The ocean woods may be." + + 18. "When a bee brings pollen into the hive, he advances to + the cell in which it is to be deposited and kicks it off as + one might his overalls or rubber boots, making one foot help + the other; then he walks off without ever looking behind + him; another bee, one of the indoor hands, comes along and + rams it down with his head and packs it in the cell as the + dairy-maid packs butter into a firkin." + + 19. "For thy desires + Are wolfish, bloody, starved, and ravenous." + + 20. "What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how + infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and + admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how + like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of + animals!" + + 21. "And in her cheeks the vermeil red did shew + Like roses in a bed of lilies shed." + + 22. He betrayed his friend with a Judas kiss. + + 23. "A true poet is not one whom they can hire by money and + flattery to be a minister of their pleasures, their writer + of occasional verses, their purveyor of table wit; he cannot + be their menial, he cannot even be their partisan. At the + peril of both parties let no such union be attempted. Will a + Courser of the Sun work softly in the harness of a + Dray-horse? His hoofs are of fire, and his path is through + the heavens, bringing light to all lands; will he lumber on + mud highways, dragging ale for earthly appetites from door + to door?" + + 24. "Hath a dog money? is it possible + A cur can lend three thousand ducats?" + + 25. "Kind hearts are more than coronets, + And simple faith than Norman blood." + + 26. They sleep together,--the gray and the blue. + + 27. "Have not the Indians been kindly and justly treated? + Have not the temporal things--the vain baubles and filthy + lucre of this world--which were apt to engage their worldly + and selfish thoughts, been benevolently taken from them? And + have they not, instead thereof, been taught to set their + affections on things above?" (Quoted from Meiklejohn's "The + Art of Writing English.") + + 28. "Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes." + + 29. "His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine, + And they fell on Sir Launfal as snows on the brine, + That mingle their softness and quiet in one + With the shaggy unrest they float down upon." + + 30. Too much red tape caused a great amount of suffering in + the beginning of the war. + + 31. "Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! + Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain." + + 32. "The old Mountain has thrown a stone at us for fear we + should forget him. He sometimes nods his head, and threatens + to come down." + + 33. "But pleasures are like poppies spread: + You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; + Or like the snow falls in the river, + A moment white--then melts for ever; + Or like the borealis race, + That flit ere you can point their place; + Or like the rainbow's lovely form + Evanishing amid the storm." + + + * * * * * + + + CHAPTER XI + + VERSE FORMS[56] + + + Preparer's note: In this chapter, the rhythms of the sample + poetry lines were indicated with musical notes and rests. + In this text version, an eighth note is indicated by e, a + quarter note by q, and an eighth rest by r. + +No pupil has passed through the graded schools without being told that +he should not sing verses, though no one is inclined to sing prose. +One can scarcely help singing verse, and one cannot well sing prose. + +What is there about the form that leads a person to sing verses of +poetry? For example, when a person reads the first lines of "The Lady +of the Lake," he falls naturally into a sing-song which can be +represented by musical notation as follows:-- + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e q | e q | e q | e q | + "The stag at eve had drunk his fill, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e q | e q | e q | e q | + Where danced the moon on Mon an's rill, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e q | e q | e q | e q | + And deep his mid night lair had made + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e q | e q | e q | e q | + In lone Glenart ney's ha zel shade." + +The second, fourth, sixth, and eighth syllables in each of these lines +are naturally accented in reading, while the other syllables are read +without stress. The eight syllables of each line fall naturally into +groups of two, an unaccented syllable followed by an accented +syllable, just as in the musical notation given, an unaccented eighth +note is followed by an accented quarter. + +In "Hiawatha" the accented syllable comes first, and the unaccented +follows it. + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | q e | q e | q e | + "By the shores of Gitchee Gumee, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | q e | q e | q e | + By the shining Big-Sea-Water, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | q e | q e | q e | + Stood the wigwam of No komis, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | q e | q e | q e | + Daughter of the Moon, No komis." + +So, too, there are groups in which there are three syllables. The +accent may fall on any one of the three. In the following stanza from +"The Bridge of Sighs," the accent falls on the first syllable of each +group. + + | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | + "Touch her not scornfully; + | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | + Think of her mournfully, + | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | + Gently and humanly, + | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | + Not of the stains of her; + | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | + All that re mains of her + | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | + Now is pure womanly." + +The accent may be upon the second syllable of the group. This is not +common. The following is from "The Three Fishers." + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | e e e | e q | + "Three fishers went sailing out into the West, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | e q | e q | + Out into the West as the sun went down; + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | e e e | e q | + Each thought on the woman that loved him the best; + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | [e] e e e | e e e | e e e | e q | + [And] the children stood watching them out of the town." + +Or the accent may be upon the last syllable of the group. This form is +very common. It is found in the poem entitled "Annabel Lee." + + | ^ | ^ | ^ ^| | + | e e e |e e e |e e e |e q | + "It was man y and man y a year ago, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e q | e q | + In a king dom by the sea, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e |e e e | e q | e q | + That a maid en there lived whom you may know + | ^ | ^| ^ | + | e e e | e q| e e e | + By the name of An nabel Lee; + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e |e e e | e q | e e e | + And this maid en she lived with no other thought + | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e |e q | + Than to love and be loved by me." + + Poetic Feet. + +If all these verses be observed carefully, it will be seen that in +each group of syllables there is one accented syllable combined with +one or two unaccented. Such a group of syllables is called a foot. The +foot is the basis of the verse; and from the prevailing kind of foot +that is found in any verse, the verse derives its name. + +_A foot is a group of syllables composed of one accented syllable +combined with one or more unaccented._ It will be noticed further that +if musical notation be used, all of these forms are but variations of +the one form, represented by the standard measure 3/8. They are:-- + + | ^ | | ^ | | ^ | | ^ | | ^ | + | e q |; | q e |; | e e e |; | e e e |; and | e e e |. + +Accordingly there are five forms of poetic feet made of this musical +rhythm. Of these, four are in common use. + +_An Iambus is a two-syllable foot accented on the last syllable. Verse +made of this kind of feet is called iambic._ It is the most common +form found in English poetry. Example:-- + + "The stag at eve had drunk his fill." + +_A Trochee is a two-syllable foot accented on the first syllable. +Verse made of this kind of feet is called trochaic._ Example:-- + + "Stood the wigwam of Nokomis." + +_A Dactyl is a three-syllable foot accented on the first syllable. +Such verse is called dactylic._ Example:-- + + "Touch her not scornfully." + +_An Amphibrach is a three-syllable foot accented on the middle +syllable._ It is uncommon. Example:-- + + "Three fishers went sailing out into the West." + +_An Anapest is a three-syllable foot accented on the last syllable._ +Example:-- + + "It was many and many a year ago." + +A Spondee is a very uncommon foot in English. It consists of two long +syllables accented about equally. It occurs as an occasional foot in a +four-syllable rhythm. No English poem is entirely spondaic. The +four-syllable foot and the spondee are so uncommon that there is +little use in the pupil's knowing more than that there are such +things. The example below is quoted from Lanier's "The Science of +English Verse." + + | ^ | ^ | ^ ^ | + | e e e e | q e e | q q | + "Ah, the autumn days fade out, and the nights grow chill + | ^ | ^ | ^ ^ | + | e e e e | e e e e | q q | + And we walk no more to gether as we used of yore + When the rose was new in blossom and the sun was on the hill, + And the eves were sweetly vocal with the happy whippoorwill, + And the land-breeze piped its sweetest by the ocean shore." + + Kinds of Metre. + +_A verse is a single line of poetry._ It may contain from one foot to +eight feet. + +_A line made of one foot is called monometer._ It is never used +throughout a poem, except as a joke, but it sometimes occurs as an +occasional verse in a poem that is made of longer lines. The two lines +which follow are from the song of "Winter" in Shakespeare's "Love's +Labour's Lost." The last is monometer. + + "Then nightly sings the staring owl + Tu-whit." + +_A line containing two feet is called dimeter._ It also is uncommon; +but it does sometimes make up a whole poem; as, "The Bridge of Sighs," +already mentioned. Another example is:-- + + ^ ^ + "I'm wearing awa', Jean, + ^ ^ + Like snaw when it's thaw, Jean, + ^ ^ + I'm wearing awa' + ^ ^ + To the land o' the leal." + +It is frequently met as an occasional line in a poem. Wordsworth's +"Daisy" shows it. + + "Bright _Flower!_ for by that name at last, + When all my reveries are past, + I call thee, and to that cleave fast, + Sweet, silent creature! + That breath'st with me in sun and air, + Do thou, as thou art wont, repair + My heart with gladness, and a share + Of thy meek nature!" + +_A line containing three feet is called trimeter._ Example:-- + + ^ ^ ^ + "The snow had begun in the gloaming, + ^ ^ ^ + And busily all the night + ^ ^ ^ + Had been heaping field and highway + ^ ^ ^ + With a silence deep and white." + +_A line containing four feet is called tetrameter._ "Marmion" is +written in tetrameters. See the extract on p. 276. + +_A line containing five feet is called pentameter._ This line is very +common in English poetry. It gives room enough for the poet to say +something, and is not so long that it breaks down with its own weight. +Shakespeare's Plays, Milton's "Paradise Lost," Tennyson's "Idylls of +the King,"--indeed, most of the great, serious work of the +master-poets has been done in this verse. + +_A line containing six feet is called hexameter._ This is the form +adopted in the Iliad and the Odyssey of the Greeks, and the Aeneid of +the Romans; it has been used sometimes by English writers in treating +dignified subjects. "The Courtship of Miles Standish" and "Evangeline" +are written in hexameter. + +Verses of seven and eight feet are rare; they are called heptameter +and octameter, respectively. The heptameter is usually divided into a +tetrameter and a trimeter; the octameter, into two tetrameters. Poe's +"Raven" and Tennyson's "Locksley Hall" are in octameters, and Bryant's +"The Death of the Flowers" is in heptameters. + +A verse is named from its prevailing kind of foot and the number of +feet. For example, "The Merchant of Venice" is in iambic pentameter, +and "The Courtship of Miles Standish" is in dactylic hexameter. + + Stanzas. + +A stanza is a group of verses, but these verses are not necessarily of +the same length. Monometer, dimeter, and trimeter are not often used +for a whole stanza; but they are frequently found in a stanza, +introducing variety into it. A stanza made up of tetrameter +alternating with trimeter is very common. The stanzas from "Annabel +Lee" and "The Village Blacksmith," found on pages 278 and 279, are +excellent examples. + + Scansion. + +_Scansion is the separation of a verse of poetry into its component +feet._ Poetry was originally sung or chanted by bards and troubadours. +The accompaniment was a simple strumming on a harp of very few +strings, and was hardly more than the beating of time. The chanting +must have been much like the sing-song that some people fall into when +reading verses now. The first thing in scanning a line of poetry is to +drop into its rhythm,--to let it sing itself. When the regular accent +is felt, the lines can easily be separated into their metrical feet. +Read these lines from "Marmion," and mark only the accented syllables. + + ^ ^ ^ ^ + "And there she stood so calm and pale, + ^ ^ ^ ^ + That but her breathing did not fail, + And motion slight of eyes and head, + And of her bosom, warranted + That neither sense nor pulse she lacks, + You might have thought a form of wax + Wrought to the very life was there; + So still she was, so pale, so fair." + +The marked verses have an accented syllable preceded by an unaccented +syllable. Such a foot is iambic. There are four feet in each verse; so +the poem is written in iambic tetrameter. In the same way, one decides +that "The Song of Hiawatha" is written in trochaic tetrameter. + + Variations in Metres. + +In music the bar or measure is not always filled with exactly the same +kind of notes arranged in the same order. If the signature reads 3/8, +the measure may be filled by any notes that added together equal three +eighth notes. It may be a quarter and an eighth, an eighth and a +quarter, a dotted quarter, or three eighth notes. So, in poetry the +verses are not always as regular as in "Marmion" and "Hiawatha," +although poetry is more regular than music and there are usually few +variations of metre in any one poem. A knowledge of the most common +forms of variation is necessary to correct scansion. + +The commonest variation in verse is the substitution of three eighths +for the quarter and the eighth, or the eighth and the quarter. And the +very opposite of this often occurs; that is, the substitution of the +two-syllable foot for the three-syllable foot. The following, from +"The Burial of Sir John Moore," illustrates what is done. Notice, +however, that the beat is quite regular, and the lines lilt along as +if there were no change. + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ + | e e e | e q | e e e |e e e | + "Not a drum was heard, not a fun eral note, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | e e e [e] | + As his corse to the ram part we hur[ried]; + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e | e q | e q | + Not a sol dier discharged his fare well shot + | ^ | ^| ^ | + | e e e | e e e| e e e [e] | + O'er the grave where our he ro we bur[ied]." + +In reading this the first time, a person is not likely to notice that +there are three feet in it containing but two syllables. The rhythm is +perfectly smooth, and cannot be called irregular. The accent remains +on the last syllable of the foot. + +In the following selection from "Evangeline," trochees are substituted +for dactyls, yet there is no break in the rhythm. It does not seem in +the least irregular. + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | e e e | q e | + "Be hind them followed the watch-dog, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ + | q e | e e e| e e e | e e e | e e e | q e | + Patient, full of im portance, and grand in the pride of his instinct, + Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly + Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers." + +These examples are enough to illustrate the fact that one kind of foot +may be substituted for another and not make the rhythm feel irregular. +So long as the accent is not changed from the first syllable to the +last, or from the last to the first, there is no jar in the flow of +the lines. _The trochee and the dactyl are interchangeable; and the +iambus and the anapest are interchangeable._ + +We may take a step further. There are many times when some sudden +change of thought, some strong emotion forces a poet to break the +smooth rhythm, that the verses may harmonize with his feeling. Such a +variation is like an exclamation or a dash thrown into prose. The +following is taken from "Annabel Lee." The regular foot has the accent +on the last syllable. It is anapestic, in tetrameters and trimeters. +But note the shudder in the third line when the accent is changed on +the word "chilling." The music and the thought are in perfect harmony. + + "And this was the reason that, long ago, + In this kingdom by the sea, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + |e q | e q |e e e | q e | + A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling + My beautiful Annabel Lee; + So that her highborn kinsman came + And bore her away from me + To shut her up in a sepulchre + In this kingdom by the sea." + +Another beautiful example is found in the last stanza of the same +poem. It is in the first two feet of the fifth line. Here the regular +accent has yielded to an accent on the middle syllable and there are +two amphibrachs. Notice, too, how it is almost impossible to tell in +the next foot whether the accent goes upon the second or upon the +third syllable. It is hovering between the form of the first two feet +and the anapest of the last foot. + + "For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams + Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; + And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes + Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; + | ^ | ^ | ^ ^ | ^ | + | e e e | e e e |e e e | e e e | + And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side + Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride, + In her sepulchre there by the sea + In her tomb by the sounding sea." + +As has already been said, the iambus is the common foot of English +verse. It is made of a short and a long syllable. At the beginning of +a poem an unaccented syllable seems weak; and so very frequently the +first foot of a poem is trochaic; often the first two or three feet +are of this kind. At such a place the irregularity does not strike +one. The following is an illustration:-- + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e |e q | e q | e q | + "Under a spread ing chest nut tree + | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | e q | e q |e q | + The vil lage smith y stands; + The smith, a mighty man is he, + With large and sinewy hands; + And the muscles of his brawny arms + Are strong as iron bands." + +In this stanza the prevailing foot is iambic, but the first foot is +trochaic. In the following beautiful lines by Ben Jonson, there is the +same thing:-- + + | ^ | ^| ^ | ^ | + | q e |e q|e q | e q | + "Drink to me on ly with thine eyes + And I will pledge with mine; + Or leave a kiss but in the cup + And I'll not look for wine. + The thirst that from the soul doth rise + Doth ask a drink divine; + But might I of Jove's nectar sup, + I would not change for thine." + +A similar substitution may occur in any other verse of the stanza; but +we feel the change more than when it is found in the first verse. The +second stanza of Jonson's song furnishes an example of the +substitution of a trochee for an iambus:-- + + "I sent thee late a rosy wreath, + | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | e q |e e e | + Not so much hon oring thee + As giving it a hope that there + It could not withered be, + But thou thereon didst only breathe + And sent'st it back to me; + Since when it grows and smells, I swear, + Not of itself, but thee." + +Of all the great poets, but few have been such masters of the art of +making musical verse as Spenser. The following stanza is from "The +Faerie Queene;" and the delicate changes from one foot to another are +so skillfully made that one has to look twice before he finds them. + + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + "A little lowly hermitage it was, + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + Down in a dale, hard by a forest's side, + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + Far from resort of people that did pass + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + In travel to and fro; a little wide + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + There was a holy chapel edified, + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + Wherein a hermit duly wont to say + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + His holy things each morn and eventide; + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + Thereby a crystal stream did gently play, + ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ + Which from a sacred fountain welled forth alway." + + First and Last Foot. + +From the lines on "The Burial of Sir John Moore," another fact about +metres may be derived. The second and fourth lines apparently have one +too many syllables. _This may occur when the accent is upon the last +syllable of the foot;_ that is, when the foot is an iambus or an +anapest. + +Again, the last foot of each line may be one syllable short. _This may +occur when the accent is on the first syllable of a foot;_ that is, +when the foot is trochaic or dactylic. The scheme is like this: + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | q e | q e | q e | + "Tell me not in mournful numbers + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | q e | q e | q r | + Life is but an empty dream." + +The last foot of a verse of poetry, then, may have more or fewer +syllables than the regular number; still the foot takes up the regular +time and cannot be deemed unrhythmical. + +The first foot of a line, too, may contain an extra syllable; a good +example has been given in the lines on page 273, beginning,-- + + "Ah, the autumn days fade out, and the nights grow chill." + +And the first foot of a line may lack a syllable, as in the first line +of "Break, Break, Break," by Tennyson. + +In a line like the following, it is sometimes difficult to tell +whether the syllable is omitted from the first or the last foot. If +from the first, the verse is iambic, and is scanned like this:-- + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | r q | e q |e q | e e e | + "Proud and low ly, beg gar and lord." + +If the last foot is not full, the line is trochaic. + + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + | q e | q e | e e e | q r | + "Proud and low ly, beg gar and lord." + +Now if the whole of "London Bridge," from which this line is quoted, +be read, there will be found several lines that are trochaic beyond +question; and the last line of the chorus is iambic. The majority of +trochaic lines leads us to decide that the verse is trochaic. From +this example one learns to appreciate how nearly alike are trochaic +and iambic verses. Both are composed of alternating accented and +unaccented syllables; and the kind of metre depends upon which comes +first in the foot. In Blake's "Tiger, Tiger," there is not a line that +clearly shows what kind of verse the poet used. If the unaccented +syllable is supplied at the beginning the poem is iambic; if at the +end, it is trochaic. + + "Tiger, Tiger, burning bright + In the forests of the night, + What immortal hand or eye + Framed thy fearful symmetry?" + +Silences may occur in the middle of a verse of poetry as well as at +the beginning or the end. In the following nursery rhyme it is clear +that the prevailing foot is anapestic, though several feet are iambic, +and in the first two lines and the last line a single syllable makes a +foot. Silences are introduced here as rests are in music. + + | r q | r q | r q | + "Three blind mice! + | r q | r q | e q | + See how they run! + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + Hurrah, hurrah for the farm er's wife! + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + She cut off their tails with a carv ing knife! + | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | + Did you ev er see such a sight in your life + |e q | r q | r q | + As three blind mice!" + +Like this is the scansion of Tennyson's "Break, Break, Break." + + | r q | r q | r q | + "Break, break, break! + On thy cold gray stones, O sea! + And I would that my tongue could utter + The thoughts that arise in me." + +In scanning, then, it is necessary-- + +_First._ To determine by reading a number of verses the kind of foot +that predominates, and to make this the basis of the metrical scheme. + +_Second._ To remember that one kind of foot may be substituted for +another, at the will of the poet, introducing into the poem a delicate +variety of rhythm. + +_Third._ To keep in mind that the first foot of a verse and the last +foot may have more or fewer syllables than the regular foot of the +poem. + +_Fourth._ That silences, like rests in music, may be introduced into a +verse and give to it a perfect smoothness of rhythm. + + Kinds of Poetry. + +It is a difficult thing to give a definition of poetry. Many have done +so, yet no one has been fortunate enough to have his definition go +without criticism. In general, it may be said that poetry deals with +serious subjects, that it appeals to the feelings rather than to the +reason, that it employs beautiful language, and that it is written in +some metrical form. + +Poetry has been divided into three great classes: narrative, lyric, +and dramatic. + +Narrative poetry deals with events, real or imaginary. It includes, +among other varieties, the epic, the metrical romance, the tale, and +the ballad. + +_The epic is a narrative poem of elevated character telling generally +of the exploits of heroes._ The "Iliad" of the Greeks, the "Aeneid" of +the Romans, the "Nibelungen Lied" of the Germans, "Beowulf" of the +Anglo-Saxons, and "Paradise Lost" are good examples of the epic. + +_The metrical romance is any fictitious narrative of heroic, +marvelous, or supernatural incidents derived from history or legend, +and told at considerable length._ "The Idylls of the King" are +romances. + +The tale is but little different from the romance. It leaves the field +of legend and occupies the place in poetry that a story or a novel +does in prose. "Marmion" and "Enoch Arden" are tales. + +_A ballad is a short narrative poem, generally rehearsing but one +incident._ It is usually vigorous in style, and gives but little +thought to elegance. "Sir Patrick Spens," "The Battle of Otterburne," +and "Chevy Chase" are examples. + +Lyric poetry finds its source in the author's feelings and emotions. +In this it differs from narrative poems, which find their material in +external events and circumstances. Epic poetry is written in a grand +style, generally in pentameter, or hexameter; while the lyric adopts +any verse that suits the emotion. The principal classes of lyric +poetry are the song, the ode, the elegy, and the sonnet. + +_The song is a short poem intended to be sung._ It has great variety +of metres and is generally divided into stanzas. "Sweet and Low," "Ye +Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon," "John Anderson, My Jo, John," are +songs. + +_An ode is a lyric expressing exalted emotion; it usually has a +complex and irregular metrical form._ Collins's "The Passions," +Wordsworth's "Intimations of Immortality," and Lowell's "Commemoration +Ode," are well known. + +_An elegy is a serious poem pervaded by a feeling of melancholy._ It +is generally written to commemorate the death of some friend. Milton's +"Lycidas" and Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" are examples of +this form of lyric. + +_A sonnet is a lyric that deals with a single thought, idea, or +sentiment in a fixed metrical form. The sonnet always contains +fourteen lines._ It has, too, a very definite rhyme scheme. Some of +the best English sonnets have been written by Shakespeare, Wordsworth, +and Mrs. Browning. + +Dramatic poetry presents a course of human events, and is generally +designed to be spoken on the stage. Because such poetry presents human +character in action, the term "dramatic" has come to be applied to any +poetry having this quality. Many of Browning's poems are dramatic in +this sense. In the first sense of the word, dramatic poetry includes +tragedy and comedy. + +_Tragedy is a drama in which the diction is dignified, the movement +impressive, and the ending unhappy._ + +_Comedy is a drama of a light and amusing character, with a happy +conclusion to its plot._ + + Exercises in Metres. + +Enough of each poem is given below so that the kind of metre can be +determined. Always name the verse form and write the verse scheme. +Some hard work will be necessary to work out the irregular lines, but +it is only by work on these that any ability in scanning can be +gained. Always read a stanza two or three times to get the swing of +the rhythm. Remember the silences, and the substitutions that may be +made. + + 1. "I stood on the bridge at midnight + As the clocks were striking the hour, + And the moon rose over the city, + Behind the dark church tower. + + "Among the long black rafters + The wavering shadows lay, + And the current that came from the ocean + Seemed to lift and bear them away." + + 2. "All things are new;--the buds, the leaves, + That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest, + And even the nest beneath the eaves;-- + There are no birds in last year's nest!" + + 3. "Meanwhile we did our nightly chores,-- + Brought in the wood from out of doors, + Littered the stalls, and from the mows + Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows; + Heard the horse whinnying for his corn; + And, sharply clashing horn on horn, + Impatient down the stanchion rows + The cattle shake their walnut bows; + While, peering from his early perch + Upon the scaffold's pole of birch, + The cock his crested helmet bent + And down his querulous challenge sent." + + 4. "You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: + A mile or so away, + On a little mound, Napoleon + Stood on our storming day; + With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, + Legs wide, arms locked behind, + As if to balance the prone brow + Oppressive with its mind." + + 5. "Come, read to me some poem, + Some simple and heartfelt lay, + That shall soothe this restless feeling, + And banish the thoughts of day. + + "Not from the grand old masters, + Not from the bards sublime, + Whose distant footsteps echo + Through the corridors of Time. + + "For, like strains of martial music, + Their mighty thoughts suggest + Life's endless toil and endeavor; + And to-night I long for rest. + + "Read from some humbler poet + Whose songs gushed from his heart, + As showers from the clouds of summer, + Or tears from the eyelids start; + + "Who through long days of labor, + And nights devoid of ease, + Still heard in his soul the music + Of the wonderful melodies." + + 6. "Hickory, dickery, dock, + The mouse ran up the clock; + The clock struck one, + And the mouse ran down; + Hickory, dickery, dock." + + 7. "Two brothers had the maiden, and she thought, + Within herself: 'I would I were like them; + For then I might go forth alone, to trace + The mighty rivers downward to the sea, + And upward to the brooks that, through the year, + Prattle to the cool valleys. I would know + What races drink their waters; how their chiefs + Bear rule, and how men worship there, and how + They build, and to what quaint device they frame, + Where sea and river meet, their stately ships; + What flowers are in their gardens, and what trees + Bear fruit within their orchards; in what garb + Their bowmen meet on holidays, and how + Their maidens bind the waist and braid the hair.'" + +(In this quotation we have blank verse; that is, verse that does not +rhyme. It is iambic pentameter,--the most common verse in great +English poetry. What poems are you familiar with that use this +verse-form?) + + 8. "A wet sheet and a flowing sea, + A wind that follows fast + And fills the rustling sails + And bends the gallant mast; + And bends the gallant mast, my boys, + While like the eagle free + Away the good ship flies, and leaves + Old England on the lee. + + "O for a soft and gentle wind; + I heard a fair one cry; + But give to me the snoring breeze + And white waves heaving high; + And white waves heaving high, my lads, + The good ship tight and free-- + The world of waters is our home, + And merry men are we. + + "There's tempest in yon horned moon, + And lightning in yon cloud; + But hark the music, mariners! + The wind is piping loud; + The wind is piping loud, my boys, + The lightning flashes free-- + While the hollow oak our palace is, + Our heritage the sea." + + 9. "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, + Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, + While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, + As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door-- + ''T is some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-- + Only this, and nothing more.'" + + 10. "Somewhat back from the village street + Stands the old-fashioned country-seat, + Across its antique portico + Tall poplar trees their shadows throw; + And from its station in the hall + An ancient timepiece says to all,-- + 'Forever--never! + Never--forever!'" + + 11. "Listen, my children, and you shall hear + Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, + On the eighteenth of April, in seventy-five; + Hardly a man is now alive + Who remembers that famous day and year." + + 12. "Sweet and low, sweet and low, + Wind of the western sea, + Low, low, breathe and blow, + Wind of the western sea! + Over the rolling waters go, + Come from the dying moon, and blow, + Blow him again to me; + While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. + + "Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, + Father will come to thee soon; + Rest, rest, on mother's breast, + Father will come to thee soon; + Father will come to his babe in the nest-- + Silver sails all out of the west + Under the silver moon: + Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep." + + 13. "See what a lovely shell, + Small and pure as a pearl, + Lying close to my foot, + Frail, but a work divine, + Made so fairily well + With delicate spire and whorl, + How exquisitely minute, + A miracle of design!" + +(If the pupils have Palgrave's "Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics," +they have a great fund of excellent material illustrating all +varieties of metrical variation. There are very few pieces of +literature that illustrate so many varieties of metre as Wordsworth's +"Ode on the Intimations of Immortality.") + + + * * * * * + + + APPENDIX + + + A. SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS. + +The Course of Study on pages xx-xxvi contemplates five days a week for +the study of English. The text which is to be the subject of the +term's work should first be studied for a few weeks. After it has been +mastered, three days of each week should be given to literature and +two to composition. In practice I have found it best to have the study +of literature occupy three consecutive days,--for example, Tuesday, +Wednesday, and Thursday. This arrangement leaves Monday and Friday for +composition. Friday is used for the study of the text-book and for +general criticism and suggestion. On Monday the compositions should be +written in the classroom. To have them so written is, at least during +the first year, distinctly better. The first draft of the composition +should be brought to class ready for amendment and copying. During the +writing the teacher should be among the pupils offering assistance, +and insisting upon good penmanship. Care at the beginning will form a +habit of neatness, and keep the penmanship up to a high standard. + +The arrangement suggested is only one plan. This works well. Many +others may be adopted. But no plan should be accepted which makes the +number of essays fewer than one a week; nor should the number of days +given to literature be smaller than three a week. + +During the second year, if the instructor thinks it can be done +without loss, the compositions may be written outside of school hours +and brought to class on a definite day. A pupil should not be allowed +to put off the writing of a composition any more than a lesson in +geometry. On Monday of each week a composition should be handed in; +irregularity only makes the work displeasing and leads to shirking. +Writing out of school gives more time for criticism and study of +composition, and during the second year this extra time is much +needed. + +By the third year the pupils certainly can do the work out of school. +As the compositions increase in length, more time will be necessary +for their preparation. The teacher should, however, know exactly what +progress has been made each week; and by individual criticisms and by +wise suggestions she should help the pupil to meet the difficulties of +his special case. + +In order that the instructor may have time for individual criticism, +she should have two periods each day vacant in which to meet pupils +for consultation. To make this clear, suppose that a teacher of +English has one hundred pupils in her classes. She should have no +more, for one hundred essays a week are enough for any person to +correct. If there be six recitation periods daily, place twenty-five +pupils in each of four sections for the study of literature, +composition, and general criticism. This leaves two periods each day +to meet individuals, giving ten pupils for each period. These should +come on scheduled days, with the same regularity as for class +recitation. The pupil's work should have been handed in on the second +day before he comes up for consultation, in order that the teacher may +be competent to give criticisms of any value. The inspiration of the +first reading cannot be depended upon to suggest any help, nor is +there time for such a reading during the recitation. + +There will be need of class recitation in argument. Ten days or two +weeks are all that is necessary for text-book work. This should be +done before pupils read the "Conciliation." In the reading constantly +keep before the pupils the methods of the author. + +Every teacher should be able to do what she asks of the pupils. No +person would dare to offer herself as a teacher of Latin or algebra +until she could write all the translations of the one and solve all +the problems of the other. Yet there are persons who have the audacity +to offer their services as teachers of English, when they cannot write +a letter correctly, to say nothing of a more formal piece of +composition. If an instructor in physics, who had asked his pupils to +solve a problem in electricity, should say to each unfortunate person +as he handed in his solution, "No, that isn't right; you'll have to +try again," without offering any help or suggestion, and should +continue this discouraging process until some bright pupil worked it +out, or perhaps some one guessed it, we should say that such a person +was no instructor at all. We might go so far as to question his +intellectual competency. We certainly should think him quite deserving +of dismissal. Still many teachers of English do nothing more than say, +"It isn't right. Make it so." If the teacher does not know how to do +the thing she asks the pupils to do, she should not be teaching. And +even when she can do it, she will often benefit herself and the pupils +by actually writing the composition. In this way not only does she +gain command of her own powers of expression, but she finds out the +difficulties with which the pupils have to contend. Every teacher of +English composition should be able to do some creditable work in +English; and every teacher of English should put this talent into +actual use. + +Numerous examples of correct paragraphs, well-made sentences, and apt +words have not been included in the text. They have been omitted +because they can be found in the literature study. It is better for +pupils to find these for themselves. It will put them in the way of +reading with the senses always alert for something good; and all good +paragraphs and sentences lose something of their beautiful adaptation +when torn from the place of their birth and growth. + +So, too, there are no long lists of errors. One hundred pupils in a +term make enough to fill a volume. When a teacher knows that Sentences +is to be her next subject she should begin three months in advance to +get a good collection of specimens. These should be classified so that +they may be most usable. By the time the class comes to the study of +Sentences some new, live material will be on hand for illustration. + +In the pupils' exercises each week those errors should be singled out +and dwelt upon which are the special subject of text-book work. If the +pupils are studying Coherence in sentence structure, select all +violations of this principle in the week's exercises, and by means of +them nail that one principle down instead of trying to lay down the +whole set of principles given in the chapter on Sentences. Alongside +of this collection of mistakes in Coherence of sentences show the +pupils the best examples of tight-jointed sentences to be found in the +literature they are studying. Point out how these sentences have been +made to hold together, and how their own shambling creations can be +corrected. + +Some teachers will fear the amount of literature required. It may seem +large, especially in the first two years. It certainly would be quite +impossible to read aloud in class all of this. However, that is not +intended. There would be but sorry progress either in the course of +study or in the power to analyze literature if the class time were +taken up with oral reading of narration and description. The whole of +a short story or one or two chapters of a novel are not too much for a +lesson. The discussion of the meaning and the method of the author +should take up the largest part of the time. Then such portions should +be read aloud as are especially suited to an exercise in oral reading. +In this way the apparently large list will be easily covered within +the time. + +Moreover, there is distinct gain in reading much. If only three or +four pages be given for a lesson, the study of literature degenerates +into a study of words. A study of words is necessary, but it is only a +part of the study of literature. Such a method of study gives the +pupil no sense of values. He does not get out into the wide spaces of +the author's thought, but is eternally hedged about by the dwarfing +barriers of etymology and grammar. + + + B. THE FORM OF A COMPOSITION. + +THE MARGIN. It is the custom to leave a margin of about an inch at the +left side of the page. In this margin the corrections should be +written, not in the composition. There should be no margin at the +right. The device of writing incomplete lines, or of making each +sentence a paragraph, is sometimes adopted by young persons in the +hope of deceiving the teacher as to the length of the composition. +Remember that pages do not count for literature any more than yards of +hideous advertising boards count as art. Write a full page with a +straight-lined margin at the left. + +INDENTION. To designate the beginning of a new paragraph, it is +customary to have the first line begin an inch farther in than the +other lines. This indention of the margin and the incomplete line at +the end mark the visible limits of the paragraph. + +THE HEADING. The heading or title of the composition should be written +about an inch and a half from the top of the page, and well placed in +the middle from left to right. There should be a blank line between +the title and the beginning of the composition. Some persons prefer, +in addition to the title, the name of the writer and the date of +writing,--an unnecessary addition, it seems to me. If they are to +appear, the name should be at the left and the date at the right, both +on one line. The title will be on the next line below. + + Jay Phillips. Jan. 27, 1900. + + The Circus-Man's Story. + + "There was once an old man whom they called a wizard, and + who lived in a great cave by the sea and raised dragons. Now + when I was a very little boy, I had read a great deal about + this old man and felt as if he were quite a friend of mine. + I had planned for a long time to pay him a visit, although I + had not decided just when I should start. But the day Jim + White's father brought him that camel, I was crazy to be + after my dragon at once. + + "When bedtime came, I had made all my plans; and scarcely + had Nurse turned her back when I was on my way. It was + really very far, but I traveled so swiftly that I arrived in + a remarkably short time at the wizard's house. When I + rapped, he opened the door and asked me in. + + "'I came to see if you had any dragons left,' I told him. 'I + should like a very good, gentle dragon,' I added, 'that + would not scare Nurse; and if it is isn't too much trouble, + I should want one that I could ride.'" + +THE INDORSEMENT. When the composition is finished, it should be folded +but once up and down the middle of the page. The indorsement upon the +back is generally written toward the edges of the leaves, not toward +the folded edge. I prefer the other way, however; and for this reason. +If in a bunch of essays a teacher is searching for a particular one, +she generally holds them in the left hand and with the fingers of the +right lifts one essay after another. Indorsing toward the folded edge +insures lifting a whole essay every time; while if the edges of the +leaves be toward the right hand, too many or too few may be lifted. + +The indorsement should contain: first, the name of the writer; second, +the term and period of his recitation; third, the title of the essay; +and fourth, the date. In describing the class and period, it is well +to use a Roman numeral for the term, counting two terms in each year, +and an Arabic numeral to denote the period of his recitation. + + ||============================= + || | + || Jay Phillips. | + || | + || II, 3. | + || | + || The Circus-Man's Story. | + || | + || Jan. 27, 1900. | + | | + - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + +PENMANSHIP. The penmanship should be neat and legible. Not all persons +can write elegantly; but all can write so that their work can be +easily read, and all can make a clean page. Scribbling is due to +carelessness. A scribbled page points to a scribbling mind; clean-cut +handwriting, perhaps not Spencerian, but a clear, legible handwriting +is not only an indication of clear-cut thinking but a means and +promoter of accurate thought. Moreover, as a business proposition, one +cannot afford to become a slovenly penman. Every composition should be +a lesson in penmanship, and by so much improve one's chances in the +business world. And last, the teacher who has to read and correct the +compositions of from one hundred to two hundred persons each week +demands some consideration. No one but a teacher knows the drudgery of +this work; it can be much lightened if each pupil writes so that the +composition can be read without difficulty. By doing this, the pupil +is sure of better criticism; for the teacher can give all her +attention to the composition, none being demanded for the penmanship. + + + C. MARKS FOR CORRECTION OF COMPOSITIONS. + +In correcting compositions certain abbreviations will save a teacher +much time. Some of the common ones are given below. Underscore the +element that needs correcting, and put the abbreviation in the margin. +In case the whole paragraph needs remodeling, draw a line at its side +and note the correction in the margin. + + Cap. Use a capital letter. + l. c. Use a small letter. + D. See the dictionary for the correct use of the word. + Sp. Spelling. + Gr. A mistake in grammatical use of language. + Cnst. The construction of the sentence is awkward or + unidiomatic. + Cl. Not clear. The remedy may be suggested by reference to + certain pages of the text. + W. Weak. As above, point out the trouble by a page + reference. + Rep. Repetition is monotonous; or it may be necessary for + clearness. + p. Punctuation. + Cond. Condense. + Exp. Expand. + Tr. Transpose. + ? Some fault not designated. It is well to use page + reference. + P Make a new paragraph. + No P Unite into one paragraph. + [Greek lower-case delta] Cut out. + ^ There is something omitted. + + [Transcriber's note: The paragraph symbol cannot be displayed + with ascii characters. It is best described as a reversed + "P" with two vertical lines. We have substituted an upper + case "P".] + +In addition to the above very common corrections, many others should +be made. Instead of abbreviations, it will be better to refer the +pupil to the page of the book which treats of the special fault. For +instance, if there be an unexpected change of construction, underscore +it, and write in the margin "226;" on this page is found "parallel +construction" of sentences. It may be well to use the letters U., C., +and M., in connection with the page numbers to indicate that the fault +is in the unity, coherence, or mass of the element to be corrected. +The constant reference to the fuller statement of the principles +violated will serve to fix them in the mind. + + + D. PUNCTUATION. + +Punctuation seeks to do for written composition what inflections and +pauses accomplish in vocal expression. It makes clear what kind of an +expression the whole sentence is: whether declarative, exclamatory, or +interrogative. And it assists in indicating the relations of the +different parts within a sentence. While there is practically +uniformity in the method of punctuation at the end of a sentence, +within a sentence punctuation shows much variety of method. Where one +person uses a comma, another inserts a semicolon; and where one finds +a semicolon sufficient, another requires a colon. It should be +remembered that the parts of a sentence have not equal rank; and that +the difference in rank should, as far as possible, be indicated by the +marks of punctuation. Keeping in mind, also, the fact that the +internal marks of punctuation,--the colon, the semicolon, and the +comma,--have a rank in the order mentioned, from the greatest to the +least, a writer will use the stronger marks when the rank of the parts +of a sentence demands them, and the weaker marks to separate the +lesser elements of the sentence. The sentences below illustrate the +variety which may be practiced, and the use of punctuation to show the +relation and rank of the elements of a sentence. + +1. Internal punctuation is largely a matter of taste but there are +definite rules for final punctuation. + +2. Internal punctuation is largely a matter of taste; there are, +however, definite rules for final punctuation. + +3. Internal punctuation, the purpose of which is to group phrases and +clauses which belong together and to separate those which do not +belong together, and to indicate the relative rank of the parts +separated, is, to a great extent, a matter of taste: on the other +hand, there are definite rules for final punctuation, the object of +which is to separate sentences, and also to assist in telling what +kind of a sentence precedes it; that is, whether it be declarative, +interrogative, or exclamatory. + +Looking at the first sentence, we find two elements of equal rank +separated by a comma. Some authors would prefer no punctuation at all +in a sentence as short as this. Again, if one wished to make the two +elements very independent, he would use a semicolon. There would be +but little difference in meaning between no punctuation and a comma; +but there is a wide difference in meaning between no punctuation and a +semicolon. The independence caused by the use of the semicolon is felt +in the second sentence, where the words are the same except one. In +this sentence a colon might be used; and one might go so far as to +make two sentences of it. Notice that in these two sentences the +question is how independent you wish the elements to be, and it is +also a question of taste. In the third sentence, there are elements of +different rank. To indicate the rank, punctuation of different value +must be introduced. The two independent elements are separated by a +colon. A semicolon might be used, if a semicolon were not used within +the second independent element. This renders the greater mark +necessary. Look at the commas in the first independent element. The +assertion is that "internal punctuation is a matter of taste." This is +too sweeping. It is modified by an explanatory phrase, "to a large +extent;" and this phrase is inclosed by commas. Moreover, the long +clause indicating the purpose of internal punctuation is inclosed by +commas. The use of a semicolon in the second part falls under the +third rule for the semicolon. If one should substitute for this +semicolon a comma and a dash, he could use a semicolon instead of a +colon for separating the two main divisions of the sentence. However, +the method in which they are first punctuated is in accord with the +rules generally accepted. The simplest of these rules are given below +but one must never be surprised to find a piece of literature in which +the internal punctuation is at variance with these rules. + + CAPITAL LETTERS. + +1. A capital letter begins every new sentence. + +2. A capital letter begins every line of poetry. + +3. All names of Deity begin with a capital letter. + +4. All proper names begin with capital letters. + +5. All adjectives derived from proper nouns begin with capital +letters. + +6. The first word of every direct quotation begins with a capital +letter. + +7. Most abbreviations use capital letters. + + COMMAS. + +8. A series of words or a series of phrases, performing similar +functions in a sentence, are separated from each other by commas, +unless all the connectives are expressed. + + "Her voice was ever soft, + Gentle, and low,--an excellent thing in woman." + + "Good my lord, + You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I + Return those duties back as are right fit, + Obey you, love you, and most honor you." + +But, "shining and tall and fair and straight," because all the +connectives are expressed. + +9. Words out of their natural order are separated from the rest of the +sentence by commas. + + "To the unlearned, punctuation is a matter of chance." + +10. Words and phrases, either explanatory or slightly parenthetical, +are separated from the rest of the sentence by commas. + + "Then poor Cordelia! + And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love 's + More richer than my tongue." + +However when phrases and clauses are quite parenthetic, they are +separated from the remainder of the sentence by parentheses, or by +commas and dashes. The comma and dash is more common, and generally +indicates a lesser independence of the inclosed element. + + "Then Miss Gunns smiled stiffly, and thought what a pity it + was that these rich country people, who could afford to buy + such good clothes (really Miss Nancy's lace and silk were + very costly), should be brought up in utter ignorance and + vulgarity." + +11. The nominative of direct address, and phrases in the nominative +absolute construction are cut off by commas. + + "Goneril, + Our eldest born, speak first." + + "The ridges being taken, the troops advanced a thousand + yards." + +12. Appositive words and phrases are separated from the remainder of +the sentence by commas. + + "In the early years of this century, such a linen weaver, + named Silas Marner, worked at his vocation, in a stone + cottage that stood among the nutty hedgerows near the + village of Raveloe, and not far from the edge of a deserted + stone-pit." + +13. When words are omitted, the omission is indicated by the use of a +comma. + + "Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; + Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despis'd!" + +14. A comma is used before a short and informal quotation. + + "In the bitterness of his wounded spirit, he said to + himself, '_She_ will cast me off too.'" + +15. A comma is used to separate the independent clauses of a compound +sentence sufficiently involved to necessitate some mark of +punctuation, and yet not involved enough to require marks of different +ranks. + + "But about the Christmas of the fifteenth year a second + great change came over Marner's life, and his history became + blent in a singular manner with the life of his neighbors." + +6. Small groups of more closely related words are inclosed by commas +to indicate their near relation and to separate them from words they +might otherwise be thought to modify. + + "In this strange world, made a hopeless riddle to him, he + might, if he had had a less intense nature, have sat + weaving, weaving--looking towards the end of his pattern, or + towards the end of his web, till he forgot the riddle, and + everything else but his immediate sensations; but the money + had come to mark off his weaving into periods, and the money + not only grew, but it remained with him." + + SEMICOLONS. + +17. A semicolon is used to separate the parts of a compound sentence +if they are involved, or contain commas. It is also used to give +independence to the members of a compound sentence when not very +complex. + + "The meadow was searched in vain; and he got over the stile + into the next field, looking with dying hope towards a small + pond which was now reduced to its summer shallowness, so as + to leave a wide margin of good adhesive mud." + + "As for the child, he would see that it was cared for; he + would never forsake it; he would do everything but own it." + +18. Semicolons are used to separate a series of clauses in much the +same way as commas are used to separate a series of words. + + "I love you more than words can wield the matter; + Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty; + Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; + No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honor; + As much as child e'er loved, or father found; + A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; + Beyond all manner of so much I love thee." + +19. A semicolon is generally used to introduce a clause of repetition, +a clause stating the obverse, and a clause stating an inference. + +(Many examples of the last two rules will be found in the discussion +of compound sentences on pages 202, 203.) + + COLONS. + +20. A colon is used to introduce a formal quotation. It is frequently +followed by a dash. + + "Under date of November 28, 1860, she wrote to a friend:-- + + "'I am engaged now in writing a story--the idea of which + came to me after our arrival in this house, and which has + thrust itself between me and the other book I was + meditating. It is Silas Manner, the Weaver of Raveloe.'" + + "On the last day of the same year she wrote: 'I am writing a + story which came across my other plans by a sudden + inspiration, etc.'" + +21. A colon is used to introduce a series of particulars, either +appositional or explanatory, which the reader has been led to expect +by the first clause of the sentence. These particulars are separated +from each other by semicolons. + + "The study of the principles of composition should include + the following subjects: a study of words as to their origin + and meaning; a study of the structure of the sentence and of + the larger elements of discourse--in other words, of + concrete logic; a study of the principles of effective + literary composition, as illustrated in the various + divisions of literature; and also a study of the aesthetics + of literature." + + "What John Morley once said of literature as a whole is even + more accurate when applied to fiction alone: its purpose is + 'to bring sunshine into our hearts and to drive moonshine + out of our heads.'" + +22. A colon is used to separate the major parts of a very complex and +involved sentence, if the major parts, or either of them, contain +within themselves semicolons. + + "For four years he had thought of Nancy Lammeter, and wooed + her with a tacit patient worship, as the woman who made him + think of the future with joy: she would be his wife, and + would make home lovely to him, as his father's home had + never been; and it would be easy, when she was always near, + to shake off those foolish habits that were no pleasures, + but only a feverish way of annulling vacancy." + +23. A colon is sometimes used to mark a strong independence in the +parts of a compound sentence. + + "He didn't want to give Godfrey that pleasure: he preferred + that Master Godfrey should be vexed." + + THE DASH. + +24. A dash is frequently used with a colon to introduce a formal +quotation. The quotation then begins a new paragraph. + + (Example under colon.) + +25. A dash is used alone or with a comma to inclose a phrase or clause +which is parenthetic or explanatory. + + "'But as for being ugly, look at me, child, in this + silver-colored silk--I told you how it 'ud be--I look as + yallow as a daffadil.'" + + (Example under comma.) + +26. A dash is used to denote a sudden turn of the thought. + + "I've no opinion of the men, Miss Gunn--I don't know what + _you_ have." + + "'It does make her look funny, though--partly like a + short-necked bottle wi' a long quill in it." + +27. A dash is frequently used when the composition should be +interrupted to indicate the intensity of the emotion. + + "No--no--I can't part with it, I can't let it go,' said + Silas abruptly. 'It's come to me--I've a right to keep it.'" + + "And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life! + Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, + And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, + Never, never, never, never, never!-- + Pray you, undo this button:--thank you, sir.-- + Do you see this? Look on her,--look,--her lips,-- + Look there, look there!"-- + +28. A dash is sometimes used alone before an appositive phrase or +clause. + + "For the first time he determined to try the coal-hole--a + small closet near the hearth." + + PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT, INTERROGATION MARK. + +29. A period closes every declarative sentence. + +30. A period is used after abbreviations. + +31. An exclamation point follows an expression of strong emotion. + +32. An interrogation mark follows a direct question. + +33. An interrogation mark is sometimes used in the body of a sentence, +when the writer wishes to make the assertion forceful and uses a +rhetorical question for the purpose. + + "The shepherd's dog barked fiercely when one of these + alien-looking men appeared on the upland, dark against the + early winter sunset; for what dog likes a figure bent under + a heavy bag?--and these pale men rarely stirred abroad + without that mysterious burden." + +34. Quotation marks inclose every quotation of the exact words of +another. When one quotation is made within another, the inner or +secondary quotation is inclosed with single marks, the main or outer +quotation is included within the double marks. + + (Examples of both may be found above.) + + SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHING PUNCTUATION. + +At the time the pupils are studying the rules for punctuation they are +reading Hawthorne or some other author equally careful of his +punctuation. In his writing they will find numerous examples of the +rules for punctuation. Let them take five rules for the comma, finding +all the examples in five pages of text. In the same way furnish +semicolons, colons, and dashes. When the rules have all been learned, +they should be able to give the reason for every mark they find in +literature. Next place upon the board paragraphs not punctuated, and +have the pupils punctuate them. Remember that there is not absolute +uniformity in the use of the comma, semicolon, and colon; though in +each author there is a general adherence to the principles he adopts. +Punctuation should be consistent. Insist that the pupil punctuate his +written work consistently. + + + E. SUPPLEMENTARY LIST OF LITERATURE.[57] + +HAWTHORNE . . . . . . . A Wonder-Book for Girls and Boys. +TENNYSON. . . . . . . . Enoch Arden. +LONGFELLOW. . . . . . . Tales of a Wayside Inn. +WHITTIER. . . . . . . . The Tent on the Beach. +MACAULAY. . . . . . . . Lays of Ancient Rome. +DICKENS . . . . . . . . A Christmas Carol. +KIPLING . . . . . . . . Wee Willie Winkie, and Other Stories. +KIPLING . . . . . . . . The Jungle Books. +HAWTHORNE . . . . . . . Twice-Told Tales. +HAWTHORNE . . . . . . . Mosses from an Old Manse. +DICKENS . . . . . . . . The Cricket on the Hearth. +BROWN . . . . . . . . . Rab and his Friends. +OUIDA . . . . . . . . . A Dog of Flanders. +HALE. . . . . . . . . . The Man without a Country. +DEFOE . . . . . . . . . Robinson Crusoe. +POE . . . . . . . . . . The Gold-Bug. +SCOTT . . . . . . . . . Marmion. +SCOTT . . . . . . . . . The Lady of the Lake. +BROWNING. . . . . . . . Herve Riel, an Incident of the French Camp, + and other Narrative Poems. +FRANKLIN. . . . . . . . Autobiography. +COOPER. . . . . . . . . The Last of the Mohicans. +LONGFELLOW. . . . . . . Evangeline. +LONGFELLOW. . . . . . . Miles Standish. +DAVIS . . . . . . . . . Gallegher, and Other Stories. +MAUPASSANT. . . . . . . Number Thirteen. +MISS WILKINS. . . . . . Short Stories. +MISS JEWETT . . . . . . Short Stories. +POPE. . . . . . . . . . The Iliad. +ALDRICH . . . . . . . . Marjorie Daw. +LOWELL. . . . . . . . . The Vision of Sir Launfal, and Other Poems. +IRVING. . . . . . . . . Tales of a Traveller. +IRVING. . . . . . . . . The Sketch Book. +POE . . . . . . . . . . The Fall of the House of Usher. +WHITTIER. . . . . . . . Snow-Bound. +BURROUGHS . . . . . . . Sharp Eyes; Birds and Bees; Pepacton. +GOLDSMITH . . . . . . . The Deserted Village. +SCOTT . . . . . . . . . Ivanhoe. +DICKENS . . . . . . . . David Copperfield. +SHAKESPEARE . . . . . . Julius Caesar. +SHAKESPEARE . . . . . . The Merchant of Venice. +IRVING. . . . . . . . . Rip Van Winkle. +IRVING. . . . . . . . . The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. +BRYANT. . . . . . . . . Selected Poems. +GRAY. . . . . . . . . . An Elegy in a Country Churchyard. +TENNYSON. . . . . . . . The Princess; Idylls of the King. +DICKENS . . . . . . . . The Pickwick Papers. +BURNS . . . . . . . . . Selected Poems. +DRYDEN. . . . . . . . . Alexander's Feast. +BYRON . . . . . . . . . Childe Harold. +GEORGE ELIOT. . . . . . Silas Marner. +COLERIDGE . . . . . . . The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. +MACAULAY. . . . . . . . Essay on Milton. +RUSKIN. . . . . . . . . Sesame and Lilies. +EMERSON . . . . . . . . Friendship; Self-Reliance; Fortune of the + Republic; The American Scholar. +ARNOLD. . . . . . . . . On the Study of Poetry; Wordsworth and Keats. +LOWELL. . . . . . . . . Emerson, the Lecturer; Milton; Books and + Libraries. +HOLMES. . . . . . . . . The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. +ADDISON . . . . . . . . The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. +WORDSWORTH. . . . . . . Intimations of Immortality, and Other Poems. +KEATS . . . . . . . . . Selected Poems. +SHELLEY . . . . . . . . Selected Poems. +SHAKESPEARE . . . . . . Macbeth. +SHAKESPEARE . . . . . . A Midsummer Night's Dream. +SHAKESPEARE . . . . . . As You Like It. +WEBSTER . . . . . . . . Bunker Hill Monument Oration; Adams and + Jefferson. +GOLDSMITH . . . . . . . The Vicar of Wakefield. +MILTON. . . . . . . . . L'Allegro; Il Penseroso; Comus; Lycidas. +DE QUINCEY. . . . . . . Confessions of an English Opium Eater, and + Other Papers. +JOHN HENRY NEWMAN . . . Selected Essays. +THACKERAY . . . . . . . Henry Esmond. +STEVENSON . . . . . . . Virginibus Puerisque. +STEVENSON . . . . . . . Memories and Portraits. +SCHURZ. . . . . . . . . Abraham Lincoln. +GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS . Selected Addresses. +CHARLES LAMB. . . . . . Essays of Elia. +STEVENSON . . . . . . . Travels with a Donkey. +STEVENSON . . . . . . . An Inland Voyage. +BURKE . . . . . . . . . Conciliation with the Colonies. +LINCOLN . . . . . . . . Cooper Union Address; Gettysburg Speech. +CHAUCER . . . . . . . . Prologue, and Two Canterbury Tales. +MILTON. . . . . . . . . Paradise Lost, and Sonnets. +CARLYLE . . . . . . . . Essay on Burns. +TENNYSON. . . . . . . . In Memoriam, and Lyrics. +BROWNING. . . . . . . . Rabbi Ben Ezra; Saul; A Grammarian's Funeral. +THOREAU . . . . . . . . Walden. +AUSTEN. . . . . . . . . Pride and Prejudice. +GEORGE ELIOT. . . . . . Romola. +SHAKESPEARE . . . . . . King Lear. +SHAKESPEARE . . . . . . Hamlet. +MACAULAY. . . . . . . . Essay on Johnson. +THACKERAY . . . . . . . Vanity Fair. +LOWELL. . . . . . . . . Democracy; Lincoln. +STEVENSON . . . . . . . Lantern Bearers; A Humble Remonstrance; Gossip + about Romance. + + + * * * * * + + + INDEX + + +Abstract vs. concrete, 89, 90. + +"Adams and Jefferson," Webster's, quotation from, 176. + +Adjectives, 78. + +"Alice in Wonderland," a story without facts, 25. + +Allegory, 261. + +Allusion, 263. + +Amphibrach, 273. + +Analogy, use of, 137. + +Anapest, defined, 273; + interchangeable with iambus, 278. + +"And," use of, 192. + +Andersen, Hans Christian, his "Tannenbaum," 12. + +Anecdotes in exposition, 97. + +"Annabel Lee," quotations from, 271, 278, 279. + +Anti-climax, 210. + +Antithesis, 227. + +"Apologia," Newman's, quotation from, 160. + +Apostrophe, 261. + +Argument, 4, 128-137; + from cause, 133; + sign, 133-137; + example, 137. + +Arnold, Matthew, quotation from, 159; + quotation to illustrate repetition, 167; + to illustrate sentence structure, 222. + +Arrangement, in narration, 29-32; + description, 74, 75; + exposition, 108-114; + argument, 138-141; + sentence, 222, 223. + +Association of ideas, 103. + +"Autumn Effect, An," quotation from, 17. + + +"Baa, Baa, Black Sheep," its purpose, 7; + beginning, 29; + length of sentences in, 33; + time for the action, 36. + +Balanced sentences, 227, 228. + +Ballad, defined, 285. + +"Barbara Frietchie," a narrative poem, 4. + +Bates, Arlo, quoted, 35. + +Beauty, gained by use of figurative language, 258. + +Beginning of a story, 29. + +Bellamy, Edward, his "Looking Backward," 7. + +"Biglow Papers," quotation from, 51. + +"Birthmark," Hawthorne's, 24. + +Blake, William, "Tiger, Tiger," quoted, 282, 283. + +"Bonnie Brier Bush, Beside the," 25. + +Bookish words, 242. + +"Break, Break, Break," quotation from, 283. + +"Bridge of Sighs, The," quotation from, 270. + +Brief in argument, 138, 139. + +Browning, Robert, vivid narration of, 23. + +"Burial of Sir John Moore, The," quotation from, 277. + +Burke, Edmund, quotation from his speech on "Conciliation with the + Colonies," 116; + that speech analyzed, 142-147; + quotations to illustrate paragraph structure, 171, 175, 177, 188; + quotations to show sentence structure, 200, 209, 214, 226. + +Burroughs, John, his knowledge of his field, 9; + quotations from, 158, 160. + +"But," use of, 192. + + +Capital letters, 303. + +Cause and effect, 133-136. + +Characters, number of, 35. + +Chaucer, Geoffrey, quotation from, 245. + +Choice of subject, 8-12. + +Choice of words, 78-80, 239-255. + +"Cinderella," 12. + +Clearness and coherence, 180-193, 224, 225. + +Clearness gained by use of figurative language, 258. + +Climax, 139-141, 211, 218; + defined, 262. + +Coherence, 20; + in narration, 31, 32; + in description, 74, 75; + in exposition, 116-118; + in paragraphs, 180-193; + in sentences, 224, 225. + +Colons, 306, 307. + +Comedy, 286. + +Commas, 303, 304. + +Comparisons, use of, 77, 98; + paragraph of, 165; + confusion of, 259. + +Composition, 1; + oral and written, 2; + conventions of, 2. + +"Conciliation with the Colonies," Burke's speech on, quoted, 116, 171, + 175, 177, 188, 214, 226; + analyzed, 142-147. + +Conclusion of a story, 23. + +Concrete facts, use of, 89, 90. + +Conjunctions, use of, 190, 191. + +Connectives in sentences, 228, 229. + +Consistency, 25. + +Cooke, Josiah P., his essay on "Fire," 8. + +"Copyright," quotations from Macaulay's speech on, 159, 172. + +Correction, marks for, 300. + +Curtis, George William, quoted, 111. + + +Dactyl, defined, 272; + interchangeable with trochee, 278. + +"Daisy, The," Wordsworth's quotation from, 274. + +"Darkness and Dawn," 8. + +Dash, 307, 308. + +"David Copperfield," description quoted from, 65. + +"David Harum," its construction criticised, 22. + +Davis, Richard Harding, small number of characters in his books, 35; + simple plot in his "Gallegher," 36. + +Deduction, 129. + +Definition, a, 91-94. + +Description, 4, 49-80; + an aid to narration, 34; + and exposition, 91. + +Description and painting, 50. + +Details, in narration, 22-25; + paragraph of, 163. + +Dickens, Charles, his "Nicholas Nickleby" as an exposition, 5; + description from his "David Copperfield" quoted, 65; + quotations from Mr. Micawber's conversation, 253. + +Dictionary, use of, 237. + +Differentia, 92, 93. + +Digression, 22. + +Dimeter, 274. + +Discourse, forms of, 3-7. + +"Discussions and Arguments," Newman's, quotation from, 97. + +Dramatic poetry, 286. + +Dynamic point of sentence, 221. + + +Elegy, the, 285. + +Eliot, George, her "Silas Marner," 13; + quotation from, 152-156. + +Emerson, Ralph Waldo, primarily an essayist, 9. + +Emotional statement, 115. + +Emphasis, how secured, 110-112, 115, 116, 217-219. + +End of a paragraph, 175-179; + of a sentence, 208-212. + +"English Composition," Wendell's, quotation from, 94. + +Enthymeme, 130. + +Enumeration _vs._ suggestion, 52. + +Enumerative description, 54. + +Epic, the, 284. + +Epithet, 260. + +"Evangeline," quotation from, 277, 278. + +Events, order of, 29, 30. + +Everett, Edward, description from, quoted, 71. + +Examples, paragraph of, 171. + +Exclamation, 262. + +Exclamation point, 308. + +Exclusion of details, 22, 23, 26. + +Exposition, 4, 89-120; + and description, 91. + + +Facts in stories, 25. + +"Faerie Queene, The," quotation from, 281. + +"Fall of the House of Usher, The," descriptions in, 34; + quotation from, 69, 71. + +Familiar images, 76. + +Farrar, Canon, as a writer of sermons, 8. + +"Feathertop," 13. + +Figurative language, 257; + value of, 258. + +Figures of speech, 77, 250, 257-268. + +Fine writing, 253. + +"First Snow-Fall, The," quotation from, 274. + +Fiske, John, his "History of the United States," 25. + +Foot, a, in poetry, 272; + one kind may be substituted for another, 277-281; + first and last foot of a verse may be irregular, 281, 282. + +Force, gained by use of figurative language, 258. + +Foreign words, 243. + +Francis I. quoted, 113. + +"Function of Criticism at the Present Time," Arnold's, quotation from, + 222. + + +"Gallegher," simple plot of, 36. + +General terms, 89, 248-252. + +Genung, J. F., on paragraph structure, 162. + +Genus and differentia, 92, 93. + +"Gold Bug," length of sentences in, 33. + +Good usage, 222, 223, 239-245. + +Grant, U. S., his "Memoirs" have no plot, 16. + + +Hackneyed phrases, 253. + +Haggard, Rider, 12. + +Hawthorne, Nathaniel, a story writer, 9; + his "Feathertop," 13; + his descriptions in "The Marble Faun," 34; + quoted, 50; + quotations from, about "The Old Manse," 58, 59; + descriptions from his "House of the Seven Gables" quoted, 66; + from "The Old Apple Dealer," 67. + +Heading of essay, 297. + +Heptameter, 275. + +"Herve Riel" as a piece of narrative, 23. + +Hexameter, 275. + +"Hiawatha," quotation from, 270. + +"Historical Sketches," Newman's, quotation from, 52-54. + +Hood, Thomas, "The Bridge of Sighs" quoted, 270. + +"House of the Seven Gables," descriptions quoted from, 66. + +Hugo, Victor, his description of Waterloo quoted, 67. + +Huxley, Thomas, example of his use of comparison, 98; + quotation from, to illustrate paragraph structure, 161. + +Hyperbole, 263. + + +Iambus, defined, 272; + the common foot of English verse, 272, 279; + interchangeable with anapest, 278. + +"Idea of a University," quotations from, 95, 171, 193, 203, 210, 247. + +Illustrations, their value, 97. + +"Impressions de Theatre," quotation from, 63. + +"Incident of a French Camp, An," as an example of a short story, 23. + +Incident, the main, 20, 21. + +Incidents, order of, 29, 30. + +Inclusion of material, 24. + +Indention of paragraph, 297. + +Individual arrangement of paragraph, 181-188. + +Individuality of author, 8. + +Indorsement of essay, 298. + +Induction, 128, 132. + +Interest, 11, 12. + +Interrogation, 262. + +Interrogation point, 308. + +Introduction of story, 23. + +Inversion, 262. + +Irony, 262. + +Irrelevant matter, 22, 23. + +Irving, Washington, as a story writer in the third person, 27; + description from, quoted, 54; + short characterization quoted, 70; + description of a coachman quoted, 75; + quotations to illustrate paragraph structure, 164, 183; + to illustrate sentence construction, 202, 203, 219, 220, 229. + + +Jonson, Ben, quotation from, 280. + +"Jungle Books," 12; + quotation from, 78. + + +"Kidnapped," quotations from, 15, 165; + its unity, 27. + +"King Lear," its plot, 16; + quotation from, 60. + +Kingsley, Charles, "The Three Fishers" quoted, 271. + +Kipling, Rudyard, his "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep," 7; + his "Jungle Books," 12; + his use of climax, 21; + as a story-teller, 22, 27; + small number of characters in his stories, 35; + quotation from his "Light that Failed," 60; + description quoted from his "Jungle Books," 78; + quotation to illustrate sentence construction, 201; + his "L'Envoi" quoted, 252. + + +"Lady of the Lake, The," quotation from, 269. + +Language _vs._ painting, 49-52. + +Lanier, Sidney, "The Science of English Verse," cited, 269; + quoted, 273. + +Latin words, 245-248. + +Le Gallienne, Richard, his essay on pigs, 10; + quoted, 257. + +"Legend of Sleepy Hollow, The," 27, 29; + description in, 34; + quotation from to show paragraph structure, 163, 183; + to show sentence structure, 202, 219. + +Lemaitre, Jules, criticism of Zola quoted, 63. + +Length, of a description, 63, 64; + of a paragraph, 151-156; + of a sentence, 178, 179, 204, 205. + +"L'Envoi" to "The Seven Seas," quoted, 252. + +"Les Miserables," its intricate plot, 16; + quotation from, 67. + +"Light that Failed, The," quotation from, 60. + +"Little Dorrit," large number of characters in, 35. + +"Little Red Riding Hood," 12. + +Logical definition, 91. + +"London Bridge," quotation from, 282. + +Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, "Hiawatha" quoted, 270; + "Evangeline" quoted, 277, 278; + "The Village Blacksmith" quoted, 279, 280. + +"Looking Backward," as a novel with a purpose, 7. + +Loose sentences, 212, 214, 215. + +Lovelace, Richard, quoted, 112. + +Lowell, James Russell, his "Sir Launfal," 13; + quotation from "Biglow Papers," 51; + from a "Song," 52; + from "To W. L. Garrison," 89; + from "The First Snow-Fall," 274. + +Lyric poetry, 285. + +Lytton, Lord, quotation from, 241. + + +Macaulay, Lord, quotation on Milton from, 96; + quotation to illustrate comparison, 98; + his essay on "Milton" analyzed, 106; + last sentence of that essay quoted, 111; + that essay as an example of proportion in treatment, 114; + his denunciation of Charles I. quoted, 115; + further quotations from his "Milton," 117; + his speeches on "Copyright" and the "Reform Bill" quoted, 159, 172, + 193; + quotations from the "Milton" to illustrate paragraph structure, 164, + 166, 168, 178, 182, 184. + +"Macbeth," 13. + +Maclaren, Ian, 25. + +Main incident, 20-26. + +Major term, 129. + +"Marble Faun, The," description in, 34. + +Margin of composition, 296. + +"Marmion," 27, 29; + quoted, 276. + +Mass, 20; + in description, 64-75; + in exposition, 108-114; + in paragraphs, 174-178; + in sentences, 207-212. + +Masson, David, 104. + +Maupassant, Guy de, quotation from his "Pierre et Jean," 56; + from his "Odd Number," 156. + +Meredith, George, quotation from, to illustrate paragraph structure, + 161; + sentence structure, 205. + +Metaphor, 77, 260. + +Metonymy, 250, 263. + +Metre, kinds of, 273-275; + variations in, 276. + +Metrical romance, the, 284. + +Middle term, 130. + +"Milton," Macaulay's essay on, quotations from, 96, 98, 111, 115, 117, + 119, 164, 166-168, 178, 184; + analyzed, 106. + +Milton, John, quotations from, 241, 245, 248. + +Minor term, 129. + +Monometer, 273. + +Mood in description, 59-62, 67-69. + +"Mosses from an Old Manse," quotation from, 50. + +Movement of story, 32, 33. + + +Narration, 4, 13-37. + +Narrative poetry, 284. + +National usage, 242. + +"New Testament," quotation from, 241. + +Newman, Cardinal, quotation from, about Athens, 52; + quotation on theology, 95; + quotation to illustrate the use of specific instances in exposition, + 97; + to illustrate paragraph structure, 160, 171, 177, 193; + to show sentence construction, 203, 210; + to show use of words, 247. + +"Nicholas Nickleby," as an exposition of school abuses, 5. + +Nouns, 78. + +Number of characters, 35. + + +Observation, its value, 55. + +Obverse statement, 95, 96; + paragraph of, 169-171. + +Octameter, 275. + +"Odd Number, The," quotation from, 156. + +Ode, defined, 285. + +"OEnone," quotation from, 51. + +"Old Apple Dealer, The," quotation from, 67. + +Omniscience of an author, 27. + +Order of events in stories, 29; + of words in sentences, 217-219. + +Outline, use of, 32, 109, 110, 138, 139, 174. + + +Palmer, Professor G. H., quotations from, on composition writing, 101, + 112. + +"Paradise Lost," quotations from, 241, 245, 248. + +Paragraphs, 151-195. + +Parallel construction, 192-194, 226, 227. + +Particulars in exposition, 96; + paragraph of, 163. + +Penmanship, 300. + +Pentameter, 274. + +"Pepacton," 9; + quotations from, 158, 160. + +Period, 308. + +Periodic sentences, 212-216. + +Personification, 77, 260. + +Persuasion, 4. + +Philippians iv. 8, 241. + +"Physical Basis of Life," Huxley's, quotations from, 98, 161. + +"Pierre et Jean," quotation from, 55. + +"Pilgrim's Progress," 13. + +Place of a story, 29. + +Plot, 15-20, 36. + +Poe, Edgar Allan, his sentences, 33; + his use of description in "The Fall of the House of Usher," 34; + quotations from that work, 68, 71; + "Annabel Lee" quoted, 271, 278, 279. + +Poetic feet, 272. + +Poetical words, 254. + +Poetry, kinds of, 284-286. + +Point of view, 56-59; + change of, 58; + mental, 59. + +Position of words in sentences, 217. + +"Praeterita," Ruskin's, quotations from, 169. + +Premises, 129; + false, 131. + +"Present Position of Catholics in England," Newman's, quotation from, + 177. + +Present usage of words, 244, 245. + +"Prince Otto," quotations from, 72, 73. + +"Princess, The," quotation from, 251. + +Pronouns, use of, 188, 189. + +Proportion in description, 73; + in exposition, 104-108, 114; + in paragraphs, 179. + +"Prose Fancies," 10. + +Provincialisms, 242. + +Purpose, of an author, 6, 7; + in description, 59-62. + + +Quotation marks, 308. + +"Quo Vadis," 7. + + +Rapidity of movement, 32. + +"Reform Bill," quotation from Macaulay's speech on, 193. + +Refutation in argument, 141. + +Repetition, its value, 94; + paragraph of, 167. + +Reputable words, 239-241. + +"Richard Feverel," quotations from, 161, 205. + +"Richelieu," quotation from, 241. + +"Robinson Crusoe," has little plot, 16. + +Royce, Josiah, quotation from, 242. + +Ruskin, John, 49; + quotation to illustrate building up a paragraph, 169; + his "Sesame and Lilies," 239. + + +Saxon words, 245-248. + +Scale of treatment, 104-108. + +Scansion, 275-284; + requisites for scanning, 283, 284. + +"Science of English Verse, The," quotation from, 273. + +Scott, Sir Walter, as a story-teller in the third person, 27; + his dull introductory chapters, 31; + "The Lady of the Lake" quoted, 269; + "Marmion" quoted, 276. + +Selection of material in narration, 21-28; + in description, 56-62; + in exposition, 102-104; + in argument, 138. + +"Self-Cultivation in English," quotation from, 101, 112. + +Semicolons, 202, 203, 305, 306. + +Sentences, 200-230; + simple and compound, 200, 201; + long or short, 204, 205. + +Sequence of events, 29, 30. + +Serial arrangement of paragraph, 181-188. + +"Sesame and Lilies," 239. + +Sienkiewicz, Henry, his "Quo Vadis," 7. + +"Silas Marner," written for a purpose, 13; + example of a plot, 20; + time consumed in the story, 36; + quotation to show paragraph length, 152-156. + +Simile, 77, 261. + +Sing-song, natural tendency toward, 269, 276. + +Slang, 240. + +Slowness of movement, 33. + +"Snow-Bound," narrative or descriptive?, 4. + +Song defined, 285. + +Sonnet defined, 285. + +Specific words, 248-252. + +Spencer, Herbert, on the philosophy of the periodic sentence, 212. + +Spenser, Edmund, "The Faerie Queene" quoted, 281. + +"Spirit of Modern Philosophy," Royce's, quotation from, 242. + +Spondee, 273. + +Stanza, 275. + +Stedman, E. C., an authority on literature, 9. + +Stevenson, Robert Louis, his "Treasure Island" and "Travels with a + Donkey" as narratives, 4; + quotation from "Kidnapped," 15; + his "An Autumn Effect" quoted, 17; + unity in his stories, 27; + descriptions from, quoted, 62, 72; + examples of personification from, 77; + his unusual use of words, 79; + quotation to show paragraph structure, 165. + +Subdual of subordinate parts, 219. + +Subject, 8-12; + common, 11; + interesting, 11; + in exposition, 99, 100. + +Suggestion _vs._ enumeration, 52. + +Suggestions to teachers, 257-260. + +Suggestive description, 55. + +Summary, a, 119. + +Superlatives, 80. + +Syllogism, 129-132. + +Synecdoche, 250, 263. + + +"Tannenbaum," 12. + +Technical words, 242. + +Tennyson, Lord, quotations from, 51, 251, 283. + +Terms of syllogism, 129, 130. + +Testimony, 136. + +Tetrameter, 274. + +Thackeray, W. M., quotation from, 157. + +Theme in exposition, 100, 101. + +"Three Fishers, The," quotation from, 271. + +"Tiger, Tiger," quotation from, 283. + +Time of story, 35. + +Title in exposition, 102. + +"To W. L. Garrison," quotation from, 89. + +Topic-sentence, 157; + its position, 157-161. + +Tragedy, 286. + +Transitions, 118, 119. + +"Travels with a Donkey," narrative or descriptive? 4; + absence of plot, 17; + quotations from, 62, 65, 157. + +"Treasure Island," a narrative, 4; + plot simple, 16. + +Trimeter, 274. + +Trochee, defined, 272; + interchangeable with dactyl, 278. + +Type-form of paragraph, 162. + + +"Ugly Duckling, The," 25. + +Undistributed middle, 131. + +Unity, 20; + in narration, 21, 22; + in description, 56-64; + in exposition, 102, 103; + in argument, 138; + in paragraphs, 173; + in sentences, 205. + +"Uses of Astronomy, The," quotation from, 72. + + +Value of observation, 55. + +"Vanity Fair," example of a plot, 19; + quotation from, 157. + +Variations in metre, 276-284. + +Verbs in description, 79. + +Verne, Jules, 12. + +Verse, a, definition of, 273; + how named, 275. + +Verse forms, 269-291. + +"Village Blacksmith, The," quotation from, 279, 280. + +"Vision of Sir Launfal, The," 13; + quotation from, 67. + +Vocabulary, need of, 236. + +Vulgarisms, 240. + + +"Wake Robin," 9. + +Webster, Daniel, quotation from, to illustrate paragraph structure, + 176; + his use of words, 247. + +"Wee Willie Winkie," its climax, 21. + +Wendell, Barrett, quotation on printed words from, 94. + +Whittier, John G., his "Barbara Frietchie" and "Snow-Bound" as + narratives, 4. + +Wilkins, Miss, small number of characters in her books, 35. + +Wolfe, Charles, "The Burial of Sir John Moore" quoted, 277. + +Words, 235-256; + choice of, 78, 79, 80, 254-260; + reputable, 240, 241; + national, 242; + in present use, 244, 245; + Latin and Saxon, 245-248; + general and specific, 248-252. + +"Wordsworth," Arnold's essay on, quotations from, 158, 167; + "The Daisy" quoted, 274. + + + * * * * * + + + FOOTNOTES + + +1. See pp. 13, 14, of the Report of Committee on College Entrance + Requirements. + +2. See the first essay in _Prose Fancies._ + +3. Unless otherwise stated, all page references are to the Riverside + Literature Series. + +4. _Biglow Papers,_ No. X. + +5. Tennyson's _OEnone._ + +6. _Historical Sketches,_ by Cardinal Newman. + +7. _Pierre et Jean,_ by Maupassant. Quoted from Bates's _Talks on + Writing English._ + +8. _Impressions de Theatre,_ by Jules Lemaitre. + +9. _The Marble Faun,_ by Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +10. _Travels with a Donkey,_ by R. L. Stevenson. + +11. _Les Miserables,_ by Victor Hugo. + +12. _The Stage Coach,_ in Irving's _Sketch Book._ + +13. _The Jungle Book,_ by Rudyard Kipling. + +14. _To W. L. Garrison,_ by J. R. Lowell. + +15. _Idea of a University,_ by Cardinal Newman. + +16. _Essay on Milton,_ by Lord Macaulay. + +17. _Discussions and Arguments._ + +18. _Essay on Milton._ + +19. _The Physical Basis of Life,_ by T. H. Huxley. + +20. _Self-Cultivation in English,_ by Professor G. H. Palmer. + +21. Speech on _Conciliation with the Colonies,_ by Burke. + +22. A text-book on Logic, such as Jevons's, should be used to + illustrate the kinds of argument more fully. + +23. _Silas Marner,_ by George Eliot. + +24. _The Odd Number,_ by Guy de Maupassant. + +25. _Vanity Fair,_ by W. M. Thackeray. + +26. _Idyl of the Honey-Bee,_ from Burroughs's _Pepacton._ + +27. _Essay on Wordsworth,_ by Matthew Arnold. + +28. Speech on _Copyright,_ by Lord Macaulay. + +29. _Idyl of the Honey-Bee,_ from Burroughs's _Pepacton._ + +30. _The Physical Basis of Life,_ by T. H. Huxley. + +31. See Scott and Denney's _Composition-Rhetoric._ + +32. _Legend of Sleepy Hollow,_ by W. Irving. + +33. _Essay on Milton,_ by Lord Macaulay. + +34. _Kidnapped,_ by R. L. Stevenson. + +35. _Praeterita,_ by John Ruskin. + +36. Speech on _Conciliation with the Colonies,_ by Burke. + +37. Barrett Wendell's _English Composition._ + +38. Oration on _Adams and Jefferson,_ by Daniel Webster. + +39. _Present Position of Catholics in England,_ by Cardinal Newman. + +40. Speech on _Conciliation with the Colonies,_ by Burke. + +41. Speech on the _Reform Bill of 1832,_ by Lord Macaulay. + +42. _Idea of a University,_ by Cardinal Newman. + +43. _Legend of Sleepy Hollow,_ by W. Irving. + +44. _Idea of a University,_ by Cardinal Newman. + +45. _Idea of a University,_ by Cardinal Newman. + +46. _Speech on Conciliation with the Colonies,_ by Burke. + +47. _Legend of Sleepy Hollow,_ by W. Irving. + +48. _Function of Criticism at the Present Time,_ by Matthew Arnold. + +49. _Speech on Conciliation with the Colonies,_ by Burke. + +50. _The Spirit of Modern Philosophy,_ by Josiah Royce. + +51. See Lowell's _Biglow Papers,_ Introduction to Second Series. + +52. _Idea of a University,_ by Cardinal Newman. + +53. From _The Princess: a Medley,_ Part IV. + +54. From _The Seven Seas,_ published by D. Appleton & Co., New York. + Copyright, 1896, by Rudyard Kipling. + +55. In any piece of literature there are many figures. The following + should be used only to make pupils familiar with varieties of + figures. They will find many more in the literature they read. + +56. The treatment of this subject is based upon Lanier's _The Science + of English Verse._ + +57. See p. xix. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH: COMPOSITION AND +LITERATURE*** + + +******* This file should be named 28097.txt or 28097.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/0/9/28097 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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