fw_M
ENGLISH COMPOSITION
EHETOEIC
MANUAL.
BY
ALEXANDER BAIN, M.A.,
PKOFESSOB OF LOGIC IN THE FNITEKSITT OF ABEEDEEK.
AMERICAN EDITION, REVISED.
NEW YORK :
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
443 & 445 BKOADTVAY.
1867.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S66, by
D. APPLETON & CO.,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.
PREFACE
Numerous attempts have been made, and are still
making, to methodize instruction in English Compo-
sition. In these attempts, two distinct efforts are made
for the benefit of the pupils ; to cultivate in them a co-
pious fund of expression, and to render more delicate
their discrimination of good and ill effects.
As regards increasing the pupils' fund of expression,
the English teacher can do comparatively little. The
reason is obvious. The command of language is a grand
total, resulting from the practice of a life ; a small frac-
tion of that total is all that can grow up within the
limits of a Course of English Composition.
"With respect to the other aim — the discrimination
between good and bad in expression — the case is differ-
ent. Much of the necessary instruction can be con-
densed into principles, and may be impressed by care-
fully chosen examples. The teacher is here a trainer,
and can impart in a short compass, what, without him,
would be acquired slowly, if at all. It is this, accord-
ln »b r ) that I account his principal vocation.
4: PKEFACE.
All the principles and rules of composition that seem
to me capable of affording aid or direction in the art, I
have endeavored to bring together, omitting the notice
of such technical terms as are of little practical use.
The fulfilment of this design has ended in a work more
closely allied to Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric,
Blair's Lectures, and "Whately's Rhetoric, than to the
majority of recent works on English Composition.
I have divided the subject of Composition into two
Parts : first, what pertains to Composition in general ;
and secondly, what is special to each of the five leading
Kinds of Composition, — namely, Description, Narration,
Exposition, Oratory, and Poetry.
Under Part First, the Figures of Speech are dis-
cussed. The leading Qualities of Style are next ex-
plained, and the conditions that they depend on stated.
Under the same Part, I have laid down the principles
governing the structure of the Sentence and the Para-
graph. I attach great importance to these principles.
The Second Part comprises the Kinds of Compo-
sition.
The subject of Description is perhaps the one that
most signally attests the utility of Rhetorical precepts.
In delineating any complicated object, there is a well-
defined method ; which being attended to, the most ordi-
nary mind may attain success, and being neglected, the
greatest genius will fail.
Narrative includes the laws of Historical Compo-
sition, and these I have dwelt upon with some minute-
ness.
PREFACE. 5
Exposition belongs to Science, and to all information
in the gnise of general principles. The methods to be
observed in rendering expository style as easy as the
subjects will allow, are worthy of a full consideration.
Oratory, or Persuasion, is the original subject of the
Rhetorical art, and its rules were highly elaborated in an-
cient times. It presents great difficulties to the teacher.
Besides the wide range of the matters involved in per-
suasive address, there is a complication with the art of
Proof, or Logic, that could not be relieved, until Logic
itself was put on the more comprehensive basis given to
it in the system of John Stuart Mill.
Poetry demands a full share of attention, both on its
own account, and also as supplementary to the other
departments, all which cherish, as a secondary aim,
matters of interest to human feeling, while these are a
primary aim in poetry.
In conclusion, I may state what I consider the best
mode of employing such a work as the present in
tuition.
The rules and principles are accompanied with ex-
amples ; the number of these is still farther increased by
the Analyzed Extracts in the Appendix. It is recom-
mended that, in the course of the pupil's reading, the
principles should be applied to point out the merits and
demerits of select passages. A reading book may be
used for the purpose.
To obtain suitable exercises for practice in writing
English, is a prime consideration with the teacher.
Many kinds of exercises have been suggested ; and
6 PKEFACE.
there must always be a difference of opinion as to the
most suitable. The writing of Themes involves the
burden of finding matter as well as language ; and be-
longs rather to classes in scientific or other departments,
than to a class in English composition. The matter
should in some way or other be supplied, and the pupil
disciplined in giving it expression. I know of no better
method than to prescribe passages containing good mat-
ter, but in some respects imperfectly worded, to be
amended according to the laws and the proprieties of
style. Our older writers might be extensively, although
not exclusively, drawn upon for this purpose. Another
exercise is the conversion of Poetry into Prose. Much
value is also attached to Abridging or Summarizing ;
and this might be coupled with the opposite exercise of
filling up and expanding brief sketches.
The sustained practice of ''Rhetorical parsing, or the
applying of the designations, principles, and rules of
Ehetoric, to authors studied, whether in English or in
other languages, would eventually form, in the mind of
the pupil, an abiding ideal of good composition.
Aberdeen, March, I860.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
Definition and Divisions of Rhetoric 19
PAET I.
STYLE IN GENERAL.
CHAPTER I.
FIGUEES OF SPEECH.
1. The Figure of Speech defined, 20
2. Figures having reference to the Operations of the Human Under-
standing, '. 20
FIGUEES FOUNDED OX SIMILARITY.
3. The intellectual power of Similarity explained, 22
OP SIMILITUDES GENERALLY.
4. The tracing of Resemblances an avocation of the human mind, ... 22
5. Comparisons addressed to the Understanding, 23
6. The things compared must be different in kind, 23
7. Comparisons addressed to the Feelings, 24.
8. Comparisons with a mixed effect, 24
9. Picturesque Comparisons, 25
10. Comparisons causing agreeable Surprise, 25
11. Requisites of Comparisons to aid the Understanding, 25
12. Requisites of those addressed to the Feelings, 26
13. Necessity of Novelty, .^ 26
Necessity of Harmony, 27
14. Figures of Similarity having no effect, 27
15. Figures of Resemblance co-extensive with human knowledge,. ... 27
SIMILE, OR COMPARISON*.
16. Simile defined and exemplified, 29
METAPUOR.
17. Metaphor defined and exemplified, 30
18. Personifying Metaphors, 31
19. Metaphors increase the names of a language, 31
20. Metaphors express the more hidden operations of the mind, 32
8 CONTENTS.
PAGE
21. Metaphors may lose their figurative character, 32
22. Faults special to Metaphor : — (1) The mixed Metaphor ; (2) The
Straining of a Metaphor ; (3) Excess of Metaphors, 32
PERSONIFICATION.
23. Highest degree of Personification, 34
24. Inferior degree, 36
25. Advantages of our language in Personification, 36
26. Interest attaching to Personification 36
ALLEGORY — FABLE — PARABLE.
27. Allegory defined and exemplified, 3*7
28. The Fable, 38
29. The fictitious Example, 38
30. The Parables of the Bible, 38
REMAINING FIGURES OF SIMILARITY.
31. Certain kinds of Synecdoche, 39
Exercise on Figures of Similarity, 40
FIGURES OF CONTIGUITY.
32. Resolvable principally into Metonymy and Synecdoche, 41
33. Metonymies classified, % 42
34. Forms of Synecdoche, 43
35. The Transferred Epithet, 45
FIGURES OF CONTRAST.
36. Contrast a Fundamental Law of the Mind, 45
37. The Antithesis proper, 46
38. Secondary forms of Antithesis, 47
39. Proper employment of Antithesis, 49
Exercise on Figures of Contiguity and Contrast, 49
OEPIGRAM.
40. Defined as, in most instances, Apparent Contradiction,. 51
41 . Epigram of the Identical Assertion, 52
42. The Seeming Irrelevance, 53
43. A familiar saying turned into a new form,. ; 53
44. T~ie arrestive conjunctions are epigrammatic, 54
45. The Pun, 54
HYPERBOLE.
46. Origin of the tendency to Exaggeration, 65
47. Limits of Hyperbole, 5 ^
48. The Extreme Case in exposition, 5 '
CLIMAX.
49. Climax defined and exemplified, 6 ^
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTERROGATION.
50. Interrogation denned and exemplified, 59
EXCLAMATION.
61. Use of Exclamation, 60
APOSTROPHE.
52. Forms of the Apostrophe, 60
53. Vision, 61
TNNUENDO, OR LNSLNUATION.
54. Meaning of Innuendo, 61
EBONY.
55. Expresses the contrary of what is meant. — Sarcasm defined, 62
56. Other Figures of the old Rhetoricians :— Ellipsis, Asyndeton, Hy-
perbaton, 63
Exercise on Figures 64
CHAPTER II.
EXERCISE ON FIGURES.— NUMBER OF -WORDS.
57. Figures of Speech, 66
58. Brevity a virtue of language, 66
59. Sources of Brevity, 66
60. Effects gained by "diffuseness, 67
61. Violations of Brevity.— I. Tautology, 68
62. II. Redundancy, 70
63. III. Circumlocution. — The Paraphrase, 71
CHAPTER HI.
ARRANGEMENT OF WORDS.
64. The grammatical order frequently departed from, 73
65. Qualifying words should precede the object qualified, 75
66. Words nearly related in thought should be placed together, 76
CHAPTER IV.
THE QUALITIES OF STYLE.
67. Enumeration of the leading qualities, 78
SIMPLICITY.
68. Simplicity defined, 79
69. Simplicity in Terms : — Xames of common things, 79
Names of things palpable and conceivable, 80
The Individual and Concrete, as opposed to the General and
Abstract, 80
1*
10 CONTENTS.
PAGE
70. The Abstract Noun, 81
71. A series of Abstract Terms difficult, 82
72. Exceptions, 82
73. Simplicity of Structure, 83
74. The avoiding of a complication of Negatives, 83
CLEAENESS.
75 Opposed to Obscurity and Vagueness, 84
76. Management of ambiguous words, 84
77. The same word not to recur in two senses, 85
78. Parallelism in drawing comparisons, 86
79. Use of words in their well-understood meanings, 86
STEENGTH.
80. Strength the quality that gives the elation of Power, 86
81. Essential pleasure of Power, a rebound from Weakness, 88
82. Sympathy with Power in others, 88
83. Anger or Indignation allied to the Sublime, 89
84. Terror in its relations to Strength, or the Sublime, 89
85. Contemplation of Power in Nature, 90
86. Vocabulary of Strength, 90
87. Conditions of Strength in Composition : — Originality, 92
88. Harmony or Keeping, 93
89. Variety, or Alternation of Effects 94
90. Variety in Composition generally, „ 94
91. Avoiding the repetition of the same word, 94
92. Variety in the length and structure of Sentences, .*. 95
93. Variety in a long composition, 95
94. Contrast the extreme case of Variety, 95
95. Exciting effects should be relieved, 96
96. The Specific and Concrete a means of Strength, 96
97. Strength from Objectivity, 97
98. Importance of being easily understood, 97
99. Soaring, or taking a flight, 97
100. Strength in Scientific Composition, 97
101. Resources for causing strength, 98
102. The sublime of Nature extended by the Poet, 98
FEELING— PATHOS.
103. Tender Feeling allied to inactivity or repose, <= 99
104. Modes of awakening Tender Feeling, 99
Vocabulary of Tenderness, 101
105. Conditions similar to those of Strength, 101
106. Natural objects sometimes suggest Tenderness, 102
107. Examples of Pathos, 102
THE LUDICEOUS— HUMOE— WIT.
108. The Ludicrous defined, 104
109. Based on the degradation of some object possessing dignity, . . . 104
110. Laughter has two extremes : — Derision, 106
111. The genial extreme is Humor, 106
CONTENTS. 11
PAGE
112. Wit defined, 108
113. Wit combined with the Ludicrous, , 109
MELODY.
114. Involves the voice and the ear, 110
115. Letters of the alphabet in the order of easy pronunciation, 110
116. Abrupt consonants should alternate with rowels, Ill
117. A sharp and a flat mute difficult to combine, Ill
118. Cumulation of consonants harsh, Ill
119. Alternation of vowel and consonant in successive words, 112
120. Clash of vowels should be avoided, 112
121. Long vowels out of accent, 112
122. Varying the letters, 118
1 23. The succession of syllables, 113
124. The closing syllables of a sentence, 114
125. Variety of sound in composition generally, 115
Examples of the rules of melody, 115
HARMONY OF SOUND AND BENKEL
126. An example of the general Law of Harmony, 116
127. Imitation of Sounds, 116
128. Imitation of Movements, 117
129. Bulk expressed by slowness cf rhythm, 119
130. Expression of the Feelings or Passions, 119
TASTE— ELEGANCE— POLISH-REFINEMENT.
131. Meanings of Taste, 120
The Permanent and the Variable in Taste, 120
CHAPTER V.
THE SENTENCE AND THE PAEAGEAPH.
THE SENTENCE.
132. Grammatical laws of the Sentence, 122
133. Rhetorical division of Sentences. — The Period and the Loose
Sentence, 122
134. The Participial construction in the Period,. 124
135. The periodic form favorable to Unity, 125
136. Short and Long Sentences, 125
137. The Balanced Sentence, 125
138. Balance aids the Memory, 120
139. Balance gives an agreeable Surprise, 123
140. Extreme form of the Balance, 127
141. Balance combined with Antithesis, 127
142. Balance with Obverse Iteration, 128
143. Balance with Epigram, 128
144. Pointed expression of difference, 12§
145. Keeping up the same leading term,. 129
146. The Condensed Sentence, 129
12 CONTENTS.
PAGE
147. The Condensed Sentence used for Comic effect, 130
148. The Pointed Style,...., 130
149. Requisites of the Sentence generally, 130
150. A conspicuous place to the Principal Subject : — (1.) In the be-
ginning, 131
151. (2.) After an adverbial phrase or clause, 132
152. (3.) At the end, 133
153. The Predicate is also a principal part, 133
154. The places of emphasis for important words, 133
155. Unity of the Sentence, 135
156. Clauses united in a Sentence without breach of unity, 136
157. It is often requisite to include in a Sentence several distinct
facts. — Examination of a Narrative Extract, 136
THE PARAGKAPH.
158. Paragraph denned, 142
159. Requisites in composition generally, 142
First requisite, Explicit Reference, 142
160. Use of the proper Conjunctions, 142
161. Cumulative Conjunctions, 142
162. Adversative Conjunctions, 143
163. Illative Conjunctions, 143
164. Phrases of reference, 144
165. Subordinating Conjunctions 144
166-170. Cases in which connecting words are unnecessary, 145
171. Demonstrative Phrases of reference, 146
172. Repetition in substance of what has been said, 147
173. Inversion with a view to reference, 147
174. De Quincey remarkable for explicit reference, 148
175. Second Requisite of the Paragraph. — The rule of Parallel Con-
struction, 148
176. Third Requisite. — The opening sentence to indicate the subject
of the Paragraph, 150
177. Fourth Requisite. — Freedom from dislocation, 151
178. Fifth Requisite. — Unity of the Paragraph, , 151
179. Sixth Requisite. — A due proportion between Principal and Sub-
ordinate statements, 152
PART II.
KINDS OF COMPOSITION.
CHAPTER I.
DESCRIPTION.
1. Complication demands an Art of Description, 153
2. First, — To combine with the Enumeration of the parts a Plan of
the whole, 154
3. The Form, or Outline, may be the comprehensive plan, 154
4. The Magnitude to be also stated, 154
CONTENTS. 13
1>AGE
5. Some objects may be viewed as branching from a Centre, 154
6. Any feature may be chosen suggesting a comprehensive aspect. —
Examples of the general rule, 155
7. Second. — The Description may be panoramic, 156
8. Third. — Description aided by Individuality, 15*7
9. Fourth. — Description by Associated Circumstances, 158
10. Associated human Feelings in Description, 159
11. The particulars of a Description may be mutually supporting,. ... 159
12. Description of Mind. — First, the proper vocabulary of Mind, 160
13. Intellectual Processes. — Examples of subjective description, 160
14. Second. — Feelings may be suggested by their Associations, 162
15. Description involved in all other kinds of Composition, 163
16. In Exposition or Science, 163
17. In Poetry. "What Descriptions may be undertaken by the poet,. 164
CHAPTER H.
NAEEATIYE.
18. Narrative implies sequence or shifting of the scenes. Conditions
to be observed, 166
19. First rule.— To follow the Order of Events, 167
20. Importance of Chronology, 167
21. A backward reference may be necessary, 168
22. Sometimes what is recent is best to start from, 169
23. Second. — The narrative of concurring streams of events. — A prin-
cipal action and subordinates, 169
24. A comprehensive scheme possible in narrative, 170
25. Concurring streams of equal importance, 170
26. Contending parties. — Danger of stealthy transition, 171
27. Plurality of departments, 171
28. Third. — Relieving the detail bv Summaries, 172
29. Art of Abridgment, 173
30. Fourth. — The Explanatory Narrative, 174
31. Fifth. — The ends of Historical Composition. — Instruction, 174
32. Interest, or the gratification of the Feelings, 176
33. Sixth. — History based on Geography, 178
34. Seventh. — History a series of delineations with intermediate nar-
rative, 178
35. A nation's existence analyzed into departments, 179
36. History involves the arts of Exposition and of Poetry, 183
37. Much of what has been said on History applies to Biography,.. . . 184
38. The Environment should be delineated, 184
39. The form of Narrative in Science, and in Poetry, 184
CHAPTER IH.
EXPOSITION.
40. Applies to knowledge in the form of Science, 185
41. Chief attribute of Science, Generality, 185
42. Constituents of Science, *. 186
14 CONTENTS.
PAGE
43. Whenever truth is expressed generally, we hare Science, 1 87
44. Clearness of statement presupposed, 1 87
45. Individual facts, by themselves, not peculiar to science, 188
46. First generalized element, the Notion, 188
47. Definition, 188
48. Defining by Particulars, 1S8
49. Defining by Antithesis or Contrast, 189
50. The two methods combined, 190
51. The Complex Notion Defined by Analysis. — The Verbal Definition, 190
52. The scholastic definition a form of Analysis, 192
53. The other methods superadded to Analysis, 192
54. The Proposition, or Principle, 193
55. Methods of expounding the Proposition. — Iteration, 193
56. There should always be one chief statement, 194
57. Obverse Iteration, 194
58. Advantages of the Obverse Statement, 195
59. The principal medium of Exposition is Examples, 196
60. Choice of Examples, '. . , 197
61. The particulars may precede the generality, 197
62. The Example in the form of the Extreme Case, 197
63. Principles embodied in Examples, 198
64. Unscientific generalities. — The popular Essay, 198
65. Delineation of Character, and Criticism, 199
66. Illustrations as distinguished from Examples, 199
67. The imparting of extended human interest to Science. — Plato, . . . 201
68. The choice of Examples and Illustrations with this view, 202
69. The conditions of the employment of Illustrations for expository
ends, 203
70. Calling attention to Difficulties, 205
71. The Proof of a principle contributes to its exposition, 205
72. Inferences and Applications serve to elucidate principles, 207
73. The Expository Paragraph 208
74. Various forms of the Paragraph, 210
75. Management of novel terms, 211
76. Maxim of proceeding from the known to the unknown, 211
CHAPTER IV.
PEE SUASION.
77. Persuasion defined, = 212
78. The Ends of Oratory, 212
79. Oratory of the Law Courts, 213
80. Political Oratory. — Argument and Exhortation, 213
81. Pulpit Oratory. — Cultivation of the Religious Feelings, 215
82. Moral Suasion, 215
83. Knowledge op the persons addressed. — Sources and extent of
the knowledge required. — Consideration of men's ordinary max-
ims and received opinions, 215
84. An orator has to overbear men's special views by means of larger
principles of action, 219
85. Knowledge of a class or assemblage, 219
CONTENTS. 15
PAGE
83. Examples of the failure of great efforts of genius from unsuit-
ability to the minds addressed — History of the abolition of
the Censorship of the press in England, 220
87. Means of Persuasion, 223
83. A thorough knowledge of the subject a chief requisite. — Re-
sources of language and illustration also requisite, 224
89. Different aspects of Persuasion, 22.3
90. Persuasion as based on Description, Narration, or Exposition,. . 226
.-< . i
91. Persuasion aided by all the arts that impress ideas,.
92. Persuasion by Argument, or Proof, 223
93. An Argument defined, 229
94. First requisite in Argument, certain admitted principles, 229
95. Second requisite, an admitted similarity between the principles
and the point to be establishe 1, 229
96. Deductive Arguments, 230
97. Inductive Arguments, 231
98. Arguments from Analogy, 233
99. Probable Arguments. . .*. ■ 234
100. Devices for stifling Arguments, 236
101. How to arrange a Plurality of Arguments. — Stating them sep-
arately, '...«/ 236
102. Number and Order of Arguments, 237
103. Refutation or Reply, 237
104. Setting forth all that is admitted on the other side, 237
105. Separating the arguments on the other side, 238
106. Refutation fellows' all the methods of Proof, 235
I 1 )?. Kind of Refutation called Argumentum ad hominem, 240
108. Exposure of defective Arguments from Analogy, 241
109. Debate often turns on opposing Probabilities, 242
110. Throwing the Burden of Proof on the other side, 242
111. Tactics of Debate, 243
112. Oratory of the Feelings. — Classes of human motives, 244
113. Address to the Feelings considered under three heads : — First,
our own Pleasures and Pains considered as remote, 245
1 14. Secondly, Sympathy with the Pleasures and Pains of others, .... 248
115. Thirdly, the Emotion* and Passions : — Fear, Love, Vanity, and
Pride, Anger, Ridicule, Fine Art Emotion, the Moral Senti-
ment, 249
116. Management of the Feelings generally, 255
117. The Demeanor of the Speaker, 256
CHAPTER V.
POETEY.
118. Previous references to Poetry, 257
119. Poetry a Fine Art, working by Language. — Pleasures of Fine
Art generally, 257
120. Subjects and Form peculiar to Poetry. — Pure and mixed kinds,. 259
121. External Nature furnishes materials for Poetry, 260
122. Our interest in Humanity enters into Poetry,. 262
123. Concreteness and Combination are characteristic of Poetry, 263
16 CONTENTS.
PAGE
124. Harmony is an essential of every work of Art. — Harmonies in
Poetry, 264
125. The Ideal is sought after, 267
126. The Imitation of Nature imposes limitations on Poetry, 269
127. Plot Interest, 270
128. Painful effects should be redeemed. — Tragedy, 271
129. Metre— its uses, 272
SPECIES OF POETET.
130. Species classified, „ 274
LYRIC POETRY.
131. Lyric poetry an effusion of some strong feeling, 274
132. Lyric poems classified : — 274
(1.) The Song, 275
I. The Second Song, 275
II. The Secular Song — its varieties, 275
(2.) The Ode, 276
(3.) The Elegy, 277
(4.) The Sonnet, 277
(5.) The Simple or nondescript Lyric, 277
EPIC POETRY.
133. The peculiarities of the Epic, 277
134. Epic poems classified : — 278
(1.) The great Epic— Examples, 278
(2.) The Romance, 279
(3.) The Tale, 279
(4.) The Ballad, 279
(5.) The Metrical History, 280
(6.) The Mixed Epic, 280
(7.) The Pastoral Idyll, &c, 280
(8.) The Prose Fiction, 281
DRAMATIC POETRY.
135. The Drama constructed for acting on the stage, 281
Nature of the dramatic interest, 282
136. Division of the Drama, 282
(1.) Tragedy, 282
(2.) Comedy. — Its various forms 283
Didactic Poetry. — Satiric Poetry, 2S4
VERSIFICATION.
137. The metrical features of English poetry, 285
METRE.
138. English metre depends upon accent, .- . . 285
The position of the accent gives rise to five measures, 285
CONTENTS. IT
PAGE
139. Examples of the different Measures, 286
Dissyllabic Measures (Trochaic, Iambic), 286
Trisyllabic Measures (Dactylic, Amphibrachic, Anapaestic), . . 287
Alliteration.
140. Alliteration is of the nature of Metre, 28S
Alliteration in later English poetry, 2S9
Rhyme.
141. Rhyme is also metrical in the wide sense, 289
The three Conditions of perfect Rhyme, 290
Assonance, 290
KINDS OF VERSE.
142. The Elements that make up the kinds of Yerse, 291
Blank or Unrhymed Yerse, 291
143. Rhymed Yerse, 292
Iambic Octosyllabics, 292
Heroic Couplet, 292
Elegiac Metre, 292
Rhyme Royal, 292
Ottava Eyma, 293
Sonnet, 293
Spenserian Stanza, 293
Ballad, Metre, , 294
Trochaic Combination, 294
APPENDIX.
EXTRACTS ANALYZED.
I. Forbes on the Glacier. — Allegory, Comparisons, Strength,
Climax, Laws of the Sentence and the Paragraph, 295
II. Locke on Memory. — Figures of Similitude, Exposition re-
lieved by appeal to Feeling, the Sentence, 297
III. Dr. Campbell's allegorical comparison of Probability and
Plausibility. — Laws of the Sentence and the Paragraph,. . . 299
IY. Cowley on Cromwell. — Interrogation, Strength, &c, 303
«"- Y. Addison on the Pleasures of the Imagination. — Melody, the
Sentence and the Paragraph, Climax, &c, 304
VI. Robert Hall's Reflections on War.— The Sentence, Pathos,
Strength, Climax, &c, 308
~Yn. Gibbon's Description of Arabia. — Sentence, Paragraph, De-
scription, 313
VIII. Examples of Description from Sir Walter Scott, 316
IX. Carlyle's Description of Silesia, 319
. X. Narrative Extract from Robertson's Charles V., 321
18 CONTENTS.
PAGE
XI. Hobbes on Laughter. — Sentence, Paragraph, Exposition, 324
XII. Dryden's criticisms on Ben Jonson and Shakespeare. — Sen-
tence, Paragraph, Exposition, 327
XIII. Expository Extract from Mr. Samuel Bailey. — Application of
Principles, 330
■"* XIV. Expository and moralizing passage from Macaulay, 333
XV. Confused chain of reasoning from Campbell's Rhetoric, 335
XVI. Passage from Adam Smith. — Exposition applied to Moral
Suasion, 336
XVII. Oratorical passage from Demosthenes on the Crown, 338
XVIII. Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. — Passage examined for Poetic
Figures and Qualities, 338
XIX. Coleridge's Mont Blanc. — Poetic rendering of Nature, 341
XX. Byron's Thunder Storm. — The Impressiveness of Action,. . . . 342
XXI. Dyer's Grongar Hill. — Poetical Description, 343
XXII. Thomson's Seasons. — The Golden Age, exemplifying the Ideal
in Poetry, 343
EHE T O EI 0.
Ehetoeic discusses the means whereby language,
spoken or written, may be rendered effective.
There are three principal ends in speaking, — to in-
form, to persuade, to please. They correspond to the
three departments of the human mind, the Understand-
ing, the "Will, and the Feelings. The means being to
some extent different for each, they are considered under
separate heads.
But as there are various matters pertaining to all
modes of address, it is convenient to divide the entire
subject into the two following parts: —
Part First, which relates to Style generally, embraces
the following topics : — I. The Figures of Speech. II.
The Number of Words. III. The Arrangement of
Words. IY. The Qualities of Style. V. The Sen-
tence and the Paragraph.
Part Second treats of the different Kinds of Compo-
sition.
Those that have for their object to inform the Un-
dekstaot)ing, fall under three heads — Description, Nar-
ration, and Exposition. The means of influencing the
Well are given under one head, Persuasion. The em-
ploying of language to excite pleasurable Feelings, is
one of the chief characteristics of Poetry.
The Will can be moved only through the Under-
standing or through the Feelings. Hence there are
really but two Khetorical ends.
PART I.
STYLE IN GENERAL,
CHAPTER I.
THE FIGURES OF SPEECH.
1. A Figure of Speech is a deviation from the plain
and ordinary mode of speaking, with a view to greater
effect. When, instead of saying, " that is very strange,"
we exclaim " how strange ! " we nse a figure. " Now is
the winter of our discontent," is figurative ; the word
" winter " is diverted from signifying a season of the
year, to express a condition of the human feelings.
The ancient Rhetoricians distinguished between Figures and
Tropes. A Figure, says Quintilian, is a form of speech differ-
ing from the ordinary mode of expression ; as in the first ex-
ample given above. A Trope is the conversion of a word from
its proper signification to another, in order to give force, as in
the second example above. The distinction is more in appear-
ance than in substance, and has no practical value.
The Figures are classed under a variety of names. The
most common are Simile, Metaphor, Allegory, Antithesis or
Contrast, Metonymy, Synecdoche, Epigram, Hyperbole, Inter-
rogation, Exclamation, Apostrophe, Climax, Irony.
2. Several of the more important Figures have ref-
erence to the operationsof the human Understanding,
or Intellect, and may be classified accordingly. All
FIGURES OF SPEECH. 21
our intellectual powers are reducible to three simple
modes of working.
The first is Discrimination, or the Feeling of Difference,
Contrast, Relativity. It means that the mind is affected by-
change, as in passing from rest to motion, from cold to heat,
from light to dark ; and that, the greater and the more sudden
the change, the more strongly is it affected. The figure de-
nominated Antithesis, or Contrast, derives its force from this
fact.
The second power is called Similarity, or the Feeling of
Agreement. This signifies that, when like objects come under
our notice, we are impressed by the circumstance, as when we
see the resemblance of a child to its parent. It signifies farther
that we are made to understand things better, and to feel them
more strongly, by means of other similar things. We are en-
abled to know something of the Desert of Sahara, by being
told that it resembles a sea of sand. The Figures named
Simile, Metaphor, Allegory, are modes of increasing the force
of style in this way.
The third power of the Intellect is Retentiveness, or Ac-
quisition. The ability to retain successive impressions without
confusion, and to bring them up afterwards, distinguishes mind ;
it is a power familiarly known as Memory. Now, the chief
way in which memory works is this : impressions occurring to-
gether, become associated together, as sunrise with daylight ;
and, when we are made to think of one, we are reminded of
the accompaniments. We cannot think of the sun's rising,
without remembering daylight, and the other circumstances
that go along with it. Hence, things contiguously placed are
associated mentally ; and one of the many consequences is that
we often name a thing by some of its adjuncts, as when we say
" the throne " for the sovereign, " gold " for wealth. Such is
the nature of Metonymy.
Of the three powers of Intellect now named — Discrimina-
tion or Contrast, Similarity, and Retentiveness; — the second,
Similarity, is most fruitful in figures, and may be considered
first.
22 FIGURES OF SPEECH,
FIGUEES FOUNDED ON SIMILARITY.
3. The intellectual power named Similarity, or Feel-
ino* of Agreement, is the chief inventive power of the
mind. By it similitudes are brought np to the view.
When we look ont upon a scene of nature, we are re-
minded of other similar scenes that we have formerly
known.
This power of like to recall like (there being also diversity)
varies in different individuals. The fact is shown by the great
abundance of comparisons that occur to some men ; for exam-
ple, the great poets. Homer, speaking of the descent of Apollo
from Olympus, says, " He came like night" The eloquence of
Ulysses is described by the help of a similitude : —
" Soft as the fleeces of descending snoics,
The copious accents fall with easy art ;
Melting they fall, and sink into the heart ! "
The Figures of Similarity are these : — 1. Simile, or Com-
parison. 2. Metaphor. 3. Personification. 4. Allegory. 5.
Certain forms of Synecdoche. We shall first remark on the
features common to them all.
OF SIMILITUDES GENERALLY.
4. The tracing of resemblances among the objects
and events of the world, is a constant avocation of the
human mind.
In Science, general notions are classed together on xne basis
of some feature that they possess in common. We identify a
great number of objects on the property of roundness, all else
being different.
Some sciences are expressly styled Comparative ; as, Com-
parative Anatomy, Comparative Grammar. The purpose of the
former is to find out the points of community or likeness in the
structure of Animals : the latter shows the similarities occurring
in the midst of diversities in Languages.
SIMILITUDES. 23
Reasoning is often based on the similarity or identity of two
or more things. When we infer that the men now alive will
die, it is because of their likeness in constitution to those that
went before them. This is called reasoning by Analogy.
A comparison is often intended to serve for an argument, as
well as for an illustration. The following is an example : —
" It is remarked by Anatomists, that the nutritive quality is not
the only requisite in food; — that a certain degree of distention of
the stomach is required, to enable it to act with its full powers : —
and that it is for this reason hay or straw must be given to horses,
as well as corn, in order to supply the necessary bulk. Something
analogous to this takes place with respect to the generality of
minds ; which are incapable of thoroughly digesting and assimila-
ting what is presented to them, however clearlv, in a small corn-
pas's." (^nately.)
5. In all departments of composition addressed to
the UiTDEESTAirDmG — in Description, Narration, and
Exposition — Similitudes are made use of to render the
subjects more intelligible.
If, from some cause or other, a subject is but dimly con-
ceived, one mode of assisting the mind, is to bring forward
something of the same kind that we already understand. Our
knowledge of the familiar throws light upon the unfamiliar ob-
ject. Thus, the action of the heart, which is concealed from
our view, may be made intelligible by comparison to a force-
pump for supplving water to a town. An event in ancient his-
tory may be illustrated by something that has happened in
more recent times. A man's character is brought home to us,
when likened to that of some one that we already know. TTe
often make subjects mutually illustrative through their com-
munity of nature ; thus Painting and Poetry, as Fine Arts,
elucidate each other.
6. A Eesemblance is not a Figure of Speech, unless
the things compared be different in kind.
The comparison of Napoleon to Caesar is literal and not
figurative ; the subjects are of the same kind. The compari-
son of a great conqueror to a destructive conflagration, or a
24: FIGURES OF SPEECH.
tempest, is a figure. The things compared are different in na-
ture, although sufficiently similar to render the one illustrative
of the other.
7. In compositions addressed to the Feelings — Ora-
tory and Poetry — resemblances are songht ont to give
greater intensity or impressiveness to the meaning.
For this purpose, the comparison should be to something
that excites the feelings more strongly than the thing com-
pared. Thus, Sir Philip Sidney, in endeavoring to give a
lively idea of the rousing effect of the ballad of Chevy Chase,
says, " it stirs the heart like the sound of a trumpet:'
Chaucer's description of the Squire, contains several com-
parisons for raising the feelings : —
" Embrouded was he, as it were a mede,
All full offrcshe flour es white and rede ;
Singing he was, or floyting all the day ;
He was as freshe as is ike moneth of May?
So, the following simile from the Odyssey is calculated to
give a more lively sense of the speaker's sentiment of venera-
tion : — " I follow behind, as in the footsteps of a God."
Again, "Justice," says Aristotle, "is more glorious than 'the
Eastern Star or the Western Star."
An example of a simile elevating a common subject to a
poetic character, occurs in Tennyson's description of the miller
in " Enoch Arden."
" Him, like the working bee in blossom dust,
Blanched with his mill, they found."
Of the examples of the Simile on page 29, the 5th ap-
peals to the feelings almost exclusively; the 1st and 6th are
addressed to the undertanding ; while the rest fall under a
class to be mentioned presently, § 10.
8. Many comparisons have a mixed effect, partly as-
sisting tbe understanding, and partly giving rise to feel-
ing.
Demosthenes likened the statesmanship of such politicians
as his rival ^Eschines to old sores in the body, which come out
SIMILITUDES. 25
into painful prominence, when the general health happens to be
disturbed.
Extract I. (Appendix) may be referred to as exemplifying
mixed effects.
In not a few instances, even in Expository Composition, the
understanding is sacrificed to the feelings. (See Extract II.)
9. Some Similitudes enable us to picture an object
vividly to the mind, and are called, on that account,
picturesque / as in Chaucer's Squire, " "With lockes
crull, as they were laide in pressed
These comparisons are much used in Poetiy, and m the
more poetical forms of Descriptive and Narrative composition.
10. Original comparisons, besides having the effects
just stated, cause an agreeable suepeise, and are intro-
duced into composition with that view.
A comparison that is new and not obvious, strikes us with
a pleasurable flash, even although contributing little, either to
elucidate a subject, or to excite livelier feelings in connection
with it. In the following instance, the agreeable effect arises,
partly from the elevation of the subject (See Qualities of
Style, Strength), and partly from the detection of a certain
resemblance between two things lying remote in nature : — " The
actions of princes are like those great rivers, whose course
every one beholds, but their springs have been seen by but
few."
"When comparisons have no other effect than the pleasure
of surprise, they are often termed fanciful. This indicates one
of the meanings of Fancy. Luxuriant composition, as the
poetry of Shelley or Keats, is apt to abound in this species of
effect.
11. I. When Figures of Similarity are employed to
give intelligibility and clearness — that is, to aid the
Understanding — they must satisfy the following condi-
tions : —
2
26 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
(1.) The resemblance should turn on the relevant cir-
cumstance.
(2.) The comparison should be more intelligible to
those addressed than the thing compared.
(3.) The accompanying circumstances should not be
such as to distract the mind from the real point.
This is the most common fault in the use of figures of simi-
larity, and is most likely to occur when they are most pro-
fusely employed.
12. II. "With a view to heighten the Feelings, the
conditions are these : —
(1.) The figure employed should be more impressive
than the plain form of expression.
(2.) The degree of elevation should be within the
bounds that the hearer can tolerate. (See Hyperbole.)
(3.) The similitude should be neither obvious nor
trite.
Some degree of novelty, originality, or rarity, is essential to
any powerful effect.
(4.) A mere intellectual comparison should not be
tendered for an emotional one.*
On the other hand, the absence of intellectual similarity is
consistent with emotional keeping. Hence the admissibility of
the following : —
" The noble sister of Poplfcola,
The moon of Rome ; chaste as the icicle
That's curdled by the frost from purest snow
An d hangs on Dian's temple."
13. III. To render comparison, as such, a source of
pleasure, the following points must be attended to : —
(1.) Novelty, originality, or freshness, is still more
requisite than in the previous case.
* The profuse cniployment of intellectual similitudes without emotional
keeping, is the peculiarity of the class of poets designated by Johnson as
"metaphysical" (Life of Cowley). For a precise discrimination of the
characteristics of this class, see Masscn's Life of Milton (VoL I. p. 441).
CONDITIONS OF EFFECTIVE COMPARISON. 27
(2.) There should be a harmony between the things
compared, and no distasteful accompaniments.
The following well-known passage from Lucretius contains a
fine harmony, and also a circumstance that jars on the mind : —
" Sweet it is, when the winds are agitating the waters on a wide
sea, to witness from the land the spectacle of another's distress;
not because it is agreeable to us that any one should suffer, but
because it is pleasant to behold the ills ourselves are free from.
Sweet also is it to look upon the mighty encounters of war spread
over the plains, without sharing the danger. But nothing is
sweeter than to occupy the well-girt serene temple raised by the
learning of the wise, whence we may look down upon others and
see them straying and wandering, rivals in intellect, and in the
pride of birth, striving night and day by surpassing labor to rise to
wealth and to win dominion. 1 '
The two comparisons quoted are in full harmony with the
situation to be illustrated ; there is one pervading emotion —
the grateful feeling of security from visible woes. But it jars
on our sympathies to represent the misery of others as our
delight ; and the clause of explanation, so awkward in a poem,
does not redeem the discord. Better to have simply compared
the three situations, without giving any name to the feeling.
" Like a man witnessing from the land the strugoles of the
mariner with the storm, or like one viewing the shock of war
from a safe distance, is he that occupies the temple raised by
wisdom, and looks down upon the erring crowd beneath."
14. Many figures of similarity are to be fonnd in
literature that fail to yield any of the results just
named.
It would not be easy to attribute any effect to such as the
following from Bacon : — " Certainly it is heaven on earth, to
have a man's mind move in charity, rest in providence, and
turn upon the poles of truth." The old writers abound in
comparisons equally unmeaning and insipid.
15. The sources of Figures of Resemblance are co-
extensive with human knowledge.
An idea may be formed of the wide range of figurative
28 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
comparison by glancing at some of the objects to which it has
been extended.
Natural Agents : — Gravity, Heat, Light, Electricity, Magnetism,
affinity, attraction, repulsion, force, solution, diffusion, expansion,
matter, solid, liquid, gas.
Celestial Bodies and Operations : — Sun, moon, stars, orbits,
eclipses, cycles, seasons, nebula?, galaxies.
Terrestrial Objects on a grand scale : — Winds, storms, clouds,
rain, thunder, lightning, oceans, shores, tides, waves, continents,
plains, mountains, villages, rivers, floods, forests, deserts, sands,
swamps, rocks, strata.
Minerals and their Properties : — Stone, granite, flint, metal,
diamond, ruby, emerald, gold, silver, iron, brass, crystal, transpa-
rency, brilliancy, lustre, opaque, hard, rough, smooth, symmetrical.
Vegetation: — Seed, root, stem, branch, flower, bud, fruit, leaf,
growth, sap, ripeness, decay, excrescence. The "rose, thorn, lily,
oak, fungus, upas-tree.
Animal Life : — Organic processes, and names of parts, as in
plants: — Birth, procreation, health, disease, food, nourishment,
bone, sinew, heart, head, eyes, tongue, foot, arm, breath, digestion.
Special Animals : — Lion, tiger, elephant, dog, fox, eagle, lark,
nightingale, parrot, serpent, viper, shark, worm, grub, oyster, bee,
ant, spider, butterfly.
Operations of Human Industry : — (Agriculture), shepherd,
flocks, herds, dig, till, plough, manure, water, sow, reap, harvest,
thresh, winnow, prune, graft. (Mining), vein, ore. (Building),
foundation, stone, cement, wall, roof, door, house, palace, temple,
pyramid. (Seamanship), launch, set sail, chart, steer, compass,
tack, breeze, wreck, founder. (War), army, array, battle, conquest,
defeat, sword, arms, shot, broadside, parry, strategy, generalship.
(Trade), buy, sell, import, traffic, capital, interest, borrow, credit,
security, market, goods, exchange, money, currency, weight, meas-
ure. (Manufactures), hammer, forge, shape, carve, cut, joint,
dovetail, spin, weave, embroider, tinsel.
Government: — Sovereign, king, rule, court, regulate, minister,
judge, law.
Social Relations : — Father, mother, friend, neighbor, companion,
society, communion, wedlock.
Social Intercourse : — Road, highway, carriage, conveyance,
canal, harbor, haven, post, letter, arts of writing and printing.
Medicine :— Physic, pill, unguent, syrup, purge, plaster, bleed,
blister, disease, symptom, remedy, fever, inflammation, pulse, scar,
sore, ache, wound, delirium, heart-burn, dropsy, gangrene.
Teaching : — Master, pupil, lesson, school.
Science : — Sum, fraction, equation, equivalent, theorem, axiom,
postulate, definition, demonstrate, induction.
Fine Arts : — Melody, harmony, discord, dance, rhythm, paint,
color, sculpture, engrave, carve.
SIMILE. 29
Religion: — God, angel, offering, sacrifice, atonement, prayer,
propitiation, intercession, sacrament, priest, -worship, bible, revela-
tion, inspiration, divine, heaven, hell.
Recreations : — Games, sports, cards, dice, chess, counters, hunt,
snare, trap, decoy, angle, hook, bait.
Historical Allusions : — The geese in the capitol, the gordian
knot, crossing the Rubicon, magna charta.
Customs of Nations : — Avatar, Juggernaut, palaver, ordeal.
Feelings and Operations of the Mind : — Sweet, soft, harsh, sour,
charm, rejoice, kiss, laugh, smile, frown, angry, loving, relent, dis-
dain.
SIMILE, OE COMPAEISON.
16. Simile, or Comparison, consists in likening one
thing to another formally or expressly. " As the stars,
so shall thy seed be." " The condemnation of Socrates
took him away in his full grandeur and glory, like the
setting of a tropical sun."
The following are further examples : —
(1.) " True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest who hare learnt to dance."
(2.) " We have often thought that the public mind in our coun-
try resembles that of the sea when the tide is rising. Each succes-
sive wave rushes forward, breaks, and rolls back; but the great
flood is steadily coming on."
(3.) " Nothing is more dangerous to reason than the flights of
imagination, and nothing has been the occasion of more mistakes
among philosophers. Men of bright fancies may, in this respect,
be compared to those angels whom the Scriptures represent as cov-
ering their eyes with their wings."
(4.) " I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory."
(5.) "It is on the death-bed, on the couch of sorrow and of
pain, that the thought of one purely virtuous action is like the
shadow of a lofty rock in the desert — like the light footsteps of
that little child who continued to dance before the throne of the
unjust king, when his guards had fled, and his people had forsaken
him — like the single thin stream of light which the unhappy cap-
tive has at last learned to lore— like the soft sigh before the breeze
that wafts the becalmed vessel and her famished crew to the haven
where they would be. "
(6.) " the illusion that great men and great events came oftener
in early times than now, is partly due to historical perspective. As
30 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
in a range of equidistant columns, the farthest off look the closest;
so the conspicuous ohjects of the past seem more thickly clustered,
the more remote they are."
The characteristic effects of these examples have been given
by anticipation (p. 24).
The terms "simile" and "comparison" are sometimes con-
sidered as slightly different in meaning. When a likeness is
followed out in detail, it is called a comparison, in the stricter
meaning of the term.
METAPHOK.
17. Metaphor is a comparison implied in the lan-
guage used : as, he bridles his anger ; he was a lion in
combat ; the fact is clear.
This figure is in frequent use. By dispensing with the
phrases of comparison — like, as, &c. — it has the advantages of
being brief and of not disturbing the structure of the composi-
tion.
Like similitudes generally, Metaphors may (1) aid the
understanding, (2) deepen the impression on the feelings, and
(3) give an agreeable surprise.
Examples : —
(1.) To aid the understanding: — "The wish is father to
the thought ; " " the light of Nature ;" " the geological record ; "
" reasoning in a circle ; " " the moralist is a scout for conse-
quences."
" Athens, the eye of Greece,
Mother of arts and eloquence."
(2.) To deepen the impression on the feelings : — " I speared
him with a jest ; " " the town was stormed ; " " to let loose these
horrible hounds of war;" "the news was a dagger to his
heart ; " " the power of directing the local disposition of the
army is the royal prerogative, the master-feather in the eagle's
wing. 1 '' (Chatham.)
" At length Erasmus
Stemmed the wild torrent of a barbarous age,
And drove those holy Vandals off the stage.' 1 ''
METAPHOR. 31
" Canst thou minister unto a mind diseased —
Pluck from the heart a rooted sorrow ? "
The following is a picturesque metaphor : — " They sank like
lead in the mighty waters."
(3.) Agreeable surprise : — Speaking of the king's honor,
Junius varies the figure of Chatham : " The feather that adorns
the royal bird, supports his flight. Strip him of his plain age,
and you fix him to the earth." Again, " In the shipwreck of
the state, trifles float and are preserved ; while everything solid
and valuable sinks to the bottom, and is lost for ever."
The condensation obtained by the metaphor, as compared
with the simile, may be shown in this instance. (Simile :) " As,
in passing through the crystal, beams of white light are de-
composed into the colors of the rainbow ; so, in traversing the
soul of the poet, the colorless rays of truth are transformed
into brightly-tinted poetry." Transformed into metaphors : —
"The white light of truth, in traversing the many-sided trans-
parent soul of the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry."
(Spencer's Essays — Philosophy of Style.)
18. The personifying ALetaphors are chiefly subser-
vient to the purposes of poetry.
The following are examples : —
" gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse.''' 1
" Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green."
"But yonder comes the powerful king of day,
Rejoicing in the east."
19. The coining of Metaphors is a means of increas-
ing the names in a lano-ua^e.
Metaphorical expressions pervade every language. All the
simple prepositions— of, to, for, in, at, with— originally referred
to place and motion ; but they have been extended by meta-
phor to other relations: — "honor to the brave."
The technical language of Anatomy is in great part meta-
phorical :—pons varolii, hippocampus major, true skin, labyrinth
32 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
of the ear. It is the same with the language of the common
arts.
20. Metaphor is largely employed in expressing the
more hidden operations of the mind. Thus, knowledge
is light, passion is fire, depression of spirits is gloom :
the thought struck him.
So we speak of a ray of hope, a shade of doubt, a flight
of fancy, a flash of wit, ebullitions of anger. All the names
of mental operations were originally applied to something
sensible ; as perception, apprehension, conception, recollection,
deliberation, inspiration, imagination, sagacity (originally quick-
ness of smell), acuteness, penetration, emotion, expression.
Words originally applied to the operations of the senses,
are transferred to those of the understanding : " I see (that is,
understand) what you mean." So " taste " is made to signify
discrimination in the fine arts.
21. By frequent use, metaphors may lose their fig-
urative character.
As in the case of melancholy (black bile), edify (build),
acuteness (sharpness), ardor (heat), express (to press out), en-
hance (lift), provide (see beforehand), detect (unroof), &c.
In these instances, the original meaning is no longer sug-
gested to the mind. In other cases, the words are still used in
their primitive as well as in a figurative sense, and hence they
continue to have a certain illustrative force of similarity ; as,
light, color, fire, fountain, sources, root, life, thunder, star, field,
clear, hard, piercing, follow, shelter, mask, ruminate.
22. Besides the faults arising in the employment of
figures of similarity in general, there are some more
particularly attaching to the metaphor.
(1.) The Mixed Metaphor. This arises when in the
same expression metaphors from different subjects are
combined ; as, " to Hndle a seed," " to take arms against
a sea of troubles."
We may sow a seed or kindle a flame ; but the mind is
MIXED METAPHORS. 33
confused when incompatible operations are required to be
joined.
The following example has often been quoted from Addi-
son's poem on the victories of Marlborough : —
" I bridle in my struggling muse with pain,
That longs to launch into a bolder strain."
Three different actions are here conjoined in one.
" The noble harbor of the Golden Horn, five miles in length,
crowded with all the flags of Europe lying in its bosom."
The following line from Young, although a mixed metaphor,
is considered elegant and expressive : —
" Her voice is but the shadow of a sound."
In like manner, many of the mixed metaphors in Shakespeare
are redeemed by their effectiveness and originality.
The mixture of the metaphorical and the plain, or literal,
is also objectionable. Dryden, speaking of the aids he had in
bis translations, says, " I was sailing in a vast ocean without
other help than the pole-star of the ancients, and the rules of
the French stage among the moderns." " Boyle was the father
of Chemistry, and brother to the Earl of Cork."
"When words have lost their metaphorical meaning, the in-
congruity is no longer felt. There are, however, many words
that have ceased to be metaphors, but still so far suggest their
original meaning as to give the sense of harmony when the
figure is attended to. Thus, to say " the impression was con-
veyed" involves a certain degree of inconsistency, although
quite intelligible. " Upon the style it is that these perplexities
depend for their illumination." Perplexity should be disen-
tangled, and obscurity illuminated.
Our language has many combinations of words, indifferent
as regards the metaphor, but fixed by use, and therefore not to
be departed from. We say "use or employ means," and "take
steps," but not use steps. One may acquire knowledge, take
degrees, contract habits, lay up treasure, obtain rewards, win
prizes, gain celebrity, arrive at honors, conduct affairs, espouse
a side, interpose authority, pursue a course, turn to account,
serve for a warning, bear no malice, profess principles, cultivate
34 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
acquaintance, pass over in silence ; all which expressions owe
their suitability, not to the original sense of the words, but to
the established usages of the language.
(2.) The straining of a Metaphor. By this is meant
the pursuing of the figure into details that are irrelevant
or out of keeping.
Young, speaking of old age, says it should
" Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore
Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon ;
And put good works on board ; and wait the wind
That shortly blows us into worlds unknown. "
In the last two lines, the feelings suggested are out of keep-
ing with what goes before. At first an emotion of deep so-
lemnity is excited ; the figure then changes to the prosaic and
calculating operations of a sea-faring enterprise.
This fault is, therefore, a case of discord, which is every-
where a blemish in composition.
(3.) Excess of Metaphors.
When metaphors are greatly multiplied, it becomes diffi-
cult to preserve their congruity, and the variety of subjects
necessarily distracts the mind. There is also the evil attending
profusion of figures generally ; the mind is kept too much on
the strain.
The ancient critics particularly adverted to this fault. In
the opinion of Longinus, Demosthenes observed the just mean
and Plato often exceeded it. Such excess, however, is not
likely to be confined to metaphors, but extends to all kinds of
figures, constituting the florid or figurative style.
PERSONIFICATION.
23. Personification consists in attributing life and
mind to inanimate things. "The mountains sing to-
gether, the hills rejoice and clap their hands."
Personification is a figure of various degrees.
I. The highest degree ascribes to inanimate objects
human feelings and purposes, as well as sex.
PERSONIFICATION. 35
As in Milton, on Eve's taking the forbidden fruit : —
" So saying, her rash hand, in evil hour,
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she ate !
Earth felt the wound ; and Nature from her seat
Sighing, through all her works gave signs of woe,
That all was lost: 1
1 It is in this form that the figure appears in the boldest
flights of poetry. In figurative boldness it is surpassed only
by the Apostrophe. Shelley's "Cloud" is personification
throughout. The following stanza is an example : —
" I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers
From the seas and the streams ;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under ;
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder."
Besides the actual objects of Nature, it is not un-
usual to personify abstractions of the mind ; as, time,
life, death, truth, love, virtue, evil, sin, hope, wisdom,
genius, friendship, pleasure, vengeance.
" Can wisdom lend, with all her boasted power,
The pledge of joy's anticipated hour ? "
By a process short of personification, abstractions may be
represented as real things, and thereby be rendered more vivid.
Thus time is a river, a shore, a wave on the ocean of eternity.
Life is a vapor, a dream, a shadow.
Ancient mythology gave personal existence to all the im-
posing objects and appearances of Nature ; the sun, moon, and
stars ; the sky, earth, seas, mountains, rocks, hills, valleys,
rivers, springs, floods; the winds, clouds, thunder, hail; the
day, night, dawn, light, dark ; the seasons. Likewise to the
important productions of nature, as corn and wine.
These personifications are retained in the poetry of all lan-
guages, for the sake of clothing the objects with the interest
that personality gives.
36 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
24. II. Another and inferior degree of personifica-
tion consists in merely attributing some quality of living
beings to things inanimate.
As, the thirsty ground, a dying lamp, the angry sea, a cruel
disaster, the smiling year. Thomson, describing the influence
of the sunbeams upon the snow in the valley, says,
" Perhaps the vale
Relents awhile to the neglected ray."
" Upon a rock whose haughty brow."
The two forms of personification shade into each other.
The second is also included among Metaphors, constituting
one species of that figure.
25. The English language, by reserving the distinc-
tion of gender for living beings that have sex, gives
especial scope for personification.
In many languages, as Greek, Latin, French, German, &c,
gender is attributed to inanimate objects, in a manner that
deprives it of all its meaning. In English, the masculine and
feminine pronouns are regularly applied only to persons and to
the more distinguished animals. Hence they are closely asso-
ciated in our minds with personality ; and their occasional ap-
plication to things without life has at once a personifying effect.
26. The special value of personification arises from
the interest awakened in us by the actions, feelings, and
deportment of beings like ourselves.
Some of the strongest feelings of our nature have reference
to persons; such are love, admiration, vanity, the thirst for
power, revenge, derision. It is one effect of advancing civiliza-
tion to enlarge the interest that we take in our fellow-creatures.
The compositions that touch the deepest chords of the mind
deal principally with persons, as Poetry, Romance, and His-
tory. From the earliest times, this interest has been extended,
by ascribing human feelings to the objects of the outer world
on some pretext of remote resemblance. Thus the powers of
nature, as the winds and running streams, have been assimilated
THE ALLEGORY. 37
to living beings, and fancifully endowed with will, purpose, and
feeling, so as to be recommended to our human sympathies.
The highest merits of style are expressed by the words anima-
tion, vivacity, liveliness, as if the conferring of life were the
means of awakening our strongest interest. (See Strength,
Poetry.)
The highest form of personification should be used seldom,
and only when justified by the presence of strong feeling.
ALLEGORY— FABLE- PARABLE.
27. "When, with a view to some moral or instruction,
subjects remote from one another are brought into a
comparison sustained throughout the details, the result
is an Allegory.
The Pilgrim's Progress is a well-known example. In it the
spiritual life or progress of the Christian is represented at
length by the story of a pilgrim in search of a distant country,
which he reaches after many struggles and difficulties.
Comparisons of such length as Extract I. (Appexdix) are
allegories.
Examples occur in the Spectator — the Vision of Mirza, 159;
Luxury and Avarice, 55 ; The Paradise of Fools, 460. In the
Appendix, Extract III., is an allegorical contrast of Probability
and Plausibility, from Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric.
Chaucer's House of Fame is an allegory, imitated by Pope
in his Temple of Fame.
Spenser's Faery Queen is allegorical throughout ; the vir-
tues and vices being personified, and made to act out their
nature in a series of supposed adventures.
Thomson's Castle of Indolence is one of the many imita-
tions of Spenser.
Swift's Tale of a Tub is an allegory, wherein the divisions
of Christianity (Catholic, Lutheran, and Calvinistic) are repre-
sented as three brothers, whose adventures are related. So, in
the Travels of Gulliver, the vices of politicians are ridiculed by
being exemplified in communities made up of imaginary beings
38 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
(Liliputians or dwarfs, Brobdingnagians or giants, Houyhnhnms,
Yahoos). Arbuthnot's John Bull is another celebrated alle-
gory of the same age.
In the Allegory, for the most part, a complete story is told,
so that there is a double meaning, the obvious and the implied,
or allegorical. There must often be a great deal of straining to
sustain the parallelism throughout a long composition. The
most powerful effects realized in this style have been comic.
28. A Fable is a short allegory.
According to Lessing, the Fable embodies a moral in a
special case ; this is invested with reality and narrated as a
story, which suggests the moral at once. Thus the narrative
of " the Man and the Bundle of Sticks " embodies an import-
ant truth — the power of union — in a particular case, represent-
ed as real, and calculated to suggest and bring home the moral.
Many fables are made to turn on the actions and charac-
ters of certain animals, regarded as representatives of the
qualities by which they are most distinguished. The fox
figures as the embodiment of cunning, the lamb of meekness,
the lion of strength.
29. Moral tales, and other compositions that com-
bine the interest of a story with the conveying of in-
struction or the teaching of some practical lesson, are
sometimes called Fictitious Examples.
The Iliad and the Odyssey of Homer were constantly ap-
pealed to by the ancients in the way of enforcing important
moral maxims.
The moral apologue called the " Choice of Hercules "
(given in the Memorabilia of Socrates) is a fictitious example.
In this case there is nothing that can be called figurative,
except the double intention.
30. The Parables of the Bible are, for the most part,
fictitious examples.
In the parable which Nathan relates to David, to make him
realize the wickedness of his conduct, a supposed case is pre-
SYNECDOCHE. 39
sented, setting forth David's offence as committed by another,
with a change of circumstances — the object unlawfully taken
being a ewe lamb instead of a wife.
REMAINING FIGUEES OF SIMILAEITY.
31. The term " Synecdoche " is applied to different
kinds of Figures. The following forms of synecdoche
are figures of similarity : —
(1.) Putting the Species for the Genus : as, bread for
the necessaries of life generally ; cut-throat for murderer
or assassin ; sums for arithmetic.
The force of this figure depends on the superior effect — as
regards both the understanding and the feelings — of the Special
and the Concrete over the General and the Abstract. Food
is general ; bread is particular, and more readily calls up a dis-
tinct object to the mind. The principle is one that will fre-
quently re-appear.
(2.) The Antonomasia puts an Individual for the
Species. " Every man is not a Solomon ; " " he is a Crce-
sus " (in wealth) ; a Jezebel.
This merely carries the same effect a step farther. Special-
ity or Concreteness reaches the utmost point in the Individual.
See the stanza in Gray's Elegy—" Some village Hampden,"
&c.
(3.) Putting the Genus for the Species ; as, a vessel
for a ship, a creature for a man.
To substitute the more general for the less is a rare and ex-
ceptional form. It can impart force only when by chance the
generic name has a peculiar expressiveness. Thus, in designat-
ing a dance as a measure, the effect lies in stating one of the
characteristic attributes, the measured or rhythmical step.
This is a common form of the figure called " Euphemism," Or
the indicating of something that delicacy forbids being specifi-
cally named. Thus, to avoid naming death, we have such
40 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
phrases as deceased, departed, removed, falling asleep, gone to
rest Campbell suggests that the translators of the Bible
might have used this figure in Martha's expression respecting
Lazarus, " Lord, by this time he smelleth," for " he stinketh."
(4.) Putting the Concrete for the Abstract.
As in Dryden : —
" Nor durst begin
To speak, but wisely kept the fool within."
Again : —
" A tyrant's power in rigor is exprest,
The father yearns in- the true prince's breast."
Fool is put for folly, and father, the concrete, is used for
fatherly affection.
The opposite case of putting the abstract for the concrete
is, like the general for the particular, an exception. Youth,
beauty, may sometimes stand for the young, the beautiful ; the
figurative effect lies in isolating, as it were, the main quality,
and thus giving it greater prominence.
A minor figure of similarity is the application of numbers
to things that can not be estimated with numerical precision ;
as when, in describing a public man's patriotism, we say, " He
gave one to his country and two to himself." u Nine-tenths of
every man's happiness," says Paley, " depends on the reception
he meets with in the world." The advantage gained is obvious.
EXEECISE.
Point out and name the figures in the following passages : —
A second Daniel come to judgment.
The stream of time, which is continually washing the dissolu-
ble fabric of other poets, passes without injury by the adamant of
Shakespeare.
The soul of man is like the rolling world,
One half in day, the other dipt in night.
Galileo was the Columbus of the heavens.
Benevolence descends into the cellars, where Poverty lies on
the damp floor, while Pestilence stands at the door, like the cheru-
bim at the entrance of Eden, forbidding Selfishness to enter.
Teachers are the parents of the mind.
EXERCISE. 4:1
Terrors are turned npon me ; they pursue my soul as the wind,
and my welfare passeth away as a cloud.
Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent.
Thus saith the Lord God ; I will also take of the highest branch
of the high cedar, and will set it ; I will crop off from the top of
his young twigs a tender one, and will plant it upon an high moun-
tain and eminent : in the mountain of the height of Israel will I
plant it : and it shall bring forth boughs, and bear fruit, and be a
goodly cedar : and under it shall dwell all fowl of every wing ; in
the shadow of the branches thereof shall they dwell. And all the
trees of the field shall know that I the Lord have brought down
the high tree, have exalted the low tree, have dried up the green
tree, and have made the dry tree to flourish.
Destruction and Death say, we have heard thereof with our
ears.
Night is the summer when the soul grows ripe
With Life's full harvest.
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay ;
And Freedom shall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there.
Correct the following figures : —
In the ferment of political revolutions, the dregs of society are
sure to rise to the surface, and once there assume the reins of
power with bold and unscrupulous hand.
Many a youth launches forth on the journey of life with no
fixed goal in view.
The fire of jealousy will soon root all happiness out of the do-
mestic circle.
Happy is it for the community when there are some unselfish
hearts ready to step forward, and pluck the thoughtless and erring,
like brands, from the abyss of vice.
Followers and friends, around the dying hero's couch, hold their
breath, while the last spark of life is ebbing and the soul is prepar-
ing to take its heavenward flight.
FIGURES OF CONTIGUITY.
32. In this class of Figures, a thing is named, either
by some accompaniment (Metonymy), or by some part
(Synecdoche), that is peculiarly forcible or suggestive.
42 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
33. Metonymies have been classified according to
the nature of the accompaniment singled out.
(1.) The Sign, or Symbol, is nsed for the thing Sig-
nified.
As the crown or sceptre for royalty ; the mitre, the lawn,
the altar, the baton, the silk-gown, the purple, the ermine, the
ballot-box. Red tape is the routine of office. Peace is signi-
fied by sheathing the sword, shutting the temple of Janus.
These signs and circumstances are usually more striking
than the main subject ; in many instances, however, all that is
sought or gained is variety of expression.
(2.) The Instrument for the Agent.
Cowley says of Cromwell, " he set up Parliaments by the
stroke of his pen, and scattered them with the breath of his
mouth," the intention being to substitute for the hidden opera-
tions of the mind, some outward and expressive action.
In like manner, we say the arbitration of the sword ; a
thousand horse, a hundred lances ; " to associate to our arms
the tomahawk and the scalping-knife of the savage."
(3.) The Container for the thing Contained.
" They smote the city" " Ye devour widows' houses" So
we say familiarly, the kettle boils. The bottle is a powerful
figure for intoxicating drink. " He keeps a good table" " He
drank the cup." A carpet bag, for luggage. The purse for
money. From the cradle to the grave. The palace and the
cottage. " I should rather be ruled by St. James's (the resi-
dence of the Court) than by St. Giles's (peopled by the lowest
population)." " France would not consent."
A period of time is sometimes used for the productions or
events included in it. In trade, we hear of a good season, a
successful voyage.
" Blossoms, and fruits, and flowers, together rise,
And the whole year in gay confusion lies."
The whole year stands for all the vegetable productions of
the year.
METONYMY. 43
(4.) An Effect for the Cause ; as, the shade for trees.
When gray hairs is put for age, we may call it both an
effect and a sign.
(5.) An Author for his Works : " they have Moses
and the prophets ; " "a copy of Milton"
In like manner, the name of the inventor is used for his in-
vention ; as when the miner speaks of his Davy, meaning his
safety lamp (invented by Davy). The names of mythological
personages were similarly used in old times; as, Ceres for
bread, Bacchus for wine. So, Mars, Neptune, Pallas, Venus,
are put for war, the ocean, wisdom, love.
The interest attaching to personification, already alluded to,
is what gives force to the figure in the present case also.
34. (1.) The chief form of the Synecdoche consists
in naming a thing by some Part of it.
As, fifty sail ; all hands at work ; they sought his blood ;
the rule of three.
In putting sail for ship, the part is selected on account of
its prominence or suggestiveness ; the expression is thereby
rendered more picturesque. So, when we speak of the red-
coats, the greenbacks, the loaves.
In the other instances, the part chosen is what most con-
cerns the end in view ; a workman's efficiency depends on his
hands ; the blood is more particularly identified with life.
" How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that
bringeth good tidings."
Other examples : — A passenger in a -cab is called a fare.
" 1 abjure all roofs." " She gave her hand but not her heart."
"She had seen sixteen summers; his life had extended to
seventy winters." Parts are here selected that will express the
contrast between youth and age. A colt is said to be " three
years old next grass," that is, — next spring. "The moment is at
hand." " He was useful in his day."
On the same principle, a person is named by the part of his
character suited to the occasion. " Thus spoke the tempter."
44 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
" The avenger of blood was on his tract." When the Deity is
mentioned by one of his attributes, what is predicated of him
should be consistent therewith. " The Judge of all the earth
will do righf" " The Lord of Hosts is on our side." It would
be an impropriety to say, " the Almighty knows our thoughts."
" This subject reminds me of what I was told at Calais from
a very good hand:'' It is not the hand that tells.
The designation of a great man. by his locality is a figure
useful only for varying the expression; as the Stagirite, the
bard of Mantua, the distinguished Florentine.
(2.) The reverse operation of using the Whole for
a Part is a species of synecdoche : as, the smiling
year, for the spring ; " cursed be the day when a man-
child was born."
As in the case already mentioned of putting the genus for
the species, this must be a rare figure, since it runs contrary to
the general principle regulating vividness of impression. It
may sometimes happen that there is something in the aspect
of a whole that arrests the attention more forcibly than the
part would do. The phrase " the Roman world " is intended
to impress the mind with the vastness of the Roman empire.
(3.) The name of the Material is given for the thing
Made : as, the glittering steel (for the sword) ; the mar-
hie speaks ; the canvas glows ; wine ten years in the
wood.
The name of the material is strongly suggestive of the visi-
ble aspect of the thing, and especially the color, which it is
more difficult to realize vividly than the form or outline.
Hence this is one of the picturesque figures.
(4.) The name of a passion is sometimes given for
the object that inspires it; as, my love, my joy, my de-
light, my admiration, my aversion, my horror, for the
causes of those feelings.
By this figure the Deity is styled " the terror of the op-
pressor, and the refuge of the oppressed." Again, " The Lord
SYNECDOCHE. 45
is my song, He is become my salvation." Dryden introduces
the Duke of Monmouth as
" The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme,
The young men's vision, and the old men's dream."
Song, salvation, prayer, vision, dream, are used instead of
their several objects. "The sigh of her sacred soul," in Ossian,
designates him that is sighed for.
The name of a person is occasionally put for his fame or
renown. " Kant, the greatest name in the philosophy of Ger-
many." " The dreaded name of Demogorgon."
The effectiveness of the present variety of the Synecdoche
is explained on the general principle of selecting the prominent
or the pertinent portion of the thing designated.
The Euphemism is sometimes a figure of contiguity ; as,
stopping payment, for becoming bankrupt.
35. The Transferred Epithet is a common figure in
poetry.
The shifting of an epithet from its proper subject to some
allied subject or circumstance is illustrated in these examples:
" Hence to his idle bed." " He plods his weary way." " The
ignorant fumes that mantle their dearer reason." " With easy
eye thou mayest behold."
" The little fields made green
By husbandry of many thrifty years."
Kindred ideas are thus brought closer together ; as, idle and
bed. Thrifty years is vigorous by condensation.
We have cases in ordinary prose where this figure is used,
for the sake of conciseness* as, a criminal court, the condemned
cell.
FIGURES OF CONTRAST.
36. It is a first principle of the human mind that
we are affected only by change of impression, as by
passing from hot to cold, from hunger to repletion,
from sound to silence. This applies to both Feeling
and Knowledge.
46 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
Every outburst of feeling implies that we have passed from
one condition to another. In some emotions, as wonder, the
prominent fact is a transition from a previous state ; the shock
of change is the cause of the feeling. In like manner, a sense
of freedom presupposes restraint, and the sentiment of power
some previous state of impotence or weakness.
Knowledge, likewise, implies transition. We know light
by having passed out of the dark, height by comparison with
depth, hardness with softness. In short, knowledge is never
single ; it must have at least two objects, sometimes more than
two. Our knowledge of man, for instance, takes in all that we
ever contrast with man — God, angel, animal, &c.
The essential plurality of Knowledge is not fully represented
in ordinary language ; we are supposed to be capable of recall-
ing the full contrast involved in each case — heat as against cold,
man as opposed to brute, &c. Still, it not unfrequently hap-
pens that our understanding of a thing is aided by the express
mention of contrasting objects ; this mention is therefore a de-
vice of Rhetoric, and is called Antithesis or Contrast.*
So it is in the production of Feeling. A speaker may con-
vey a more forcible impression of Liberty by conjoining, with
the language usually applied to it, an explicit description of the
opposite conditiou of Restraint, The reference to the opposite
contrasting state is almost unavoidable in description ; but by
the figure of Antithesis this reference amounts to a fully drawn
parallel picture.
37. Antithesis, properly so called, consists in the ex-
plicit statement of the contrast implied in the meaning
of any term or description.
This is exemplified in Motion and Rest, Hot and Cold, Lib-
erty and Restraint, Pain and Pleasure, Industry and Idleness.
These are the contrasts that give the contrasted words their
principal meaning. The following are examples : —
* It is like judging qualities by placing them beside their contrasts, in-
stead of trusting for these to memory. Thus a white surface appears
brighter in proximity to black ; a weight is compared with a present, in-
stead of a remembered, standard.
ANTITHESIS. 47
"To be a blessing, and not a curse."''' " Two men I honor, and
no third."
" In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As mild behavior and humanity ;
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Let us be tigers in our fierce deportment."
Here the characteristic attitude of war is sufficiently given
in the last two lines ; but for additional vividness the poet pre-
pares the way by an explicit reference to peace.
So in Tennyson's Brook : —
" Men may come and men may go,
But I go on for every
The idea of perpetuity is more fully impressed by putting
beside it an example of its natural opposite, the transitory.
An apposite example occurs in Froude's Henry VIII. : " The
petition claims especial notice, not only because it was the first
active movement towards a separation from Rome, but because
it originated, not with the King, not ivith the parliament, not
with the people, but with a section of the clergy themselves."
38. There are several forms of Antithesis, in which
the contrast is only of a secondary kind.
(1.) The contrast of the members of a comprehen-
sive class.
For example, Heat and Light (class of sensations, or of
natural agents) ; Liberty and Plenty (class of worldly bless-
ings) ; Industry and Frugality (means to wealth) ; Sublimity
and Beauty (artistic effects); Painting and Poetry (fine arts).
The process of classification, whereby things are brought
together on some point of resemblance, is accompanied with
the marking of differences. AYe come to know heat, not merely
by its fundamental opposite cold, but by its difference from
light, another member of the class of natural agents. Heat
thus acquires a new meaning, consisting in the peculiarities
wherein it differs from light ; and, to indicate that meaning ex-
plicitly, we should mention light. So Liberty, besides being
opposed to Restraint, is opposed to Plenty, to Health, to Honor,
in the class of worldly advantages ; every one of those con-
48 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
trasts is something added to its meaning ; and, to make that
meaning certain, the contrast may be stated. This form of
Antithesis is frequent in literature. It is common to contrast
points of character that are different phases of excellence or
defect, as Sense and Sensibility, Genius and Judgment, the
Irascible and the Pusillanimous ; these are not fundamentally
opposed, like Sense and Folly, which are merely the two sides
of the same property. The balanced descriptions of Homer
and Virgil by Dryden, and of Dryden and Pope by Johnson,
are but secondary contrasts. The antithesis of the sycophant
and the honest politician, in Demosthenes on the Crown, is
more of a real contrast, and is highly effective both as exposi-
tion and as oratory.
The qualities contrasted under the foregoing head may also
possess a certain agreeable effect when brought together. Thus
the contrast of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza is the means
of producing situations, sometimes harmoniously pleasing, at
other times ludicrously incongruous.
The harmony of different qualities is brought about when
they mutually supply each other's deficiencies. Thus, a man
of inventive genius and a man of practical judgment may com-
bine with advantage to both ; and such harmonious combina-
tions form an agreeable picture.
As no one pleasure can endure long, it is usual to provide
for variety of excitement. Thus, a poem alternates from sub-
limity to tenderness, from description to interest of narrative,
from the ornate to the plain. In so doing, the moods must not
be incompatible or mutually destructive, as would be a com-
bination of the solemn and the ludicrous ; in other words, a
certain keeping must be preserved.
(2.) Another form of Antithesis is seen when things
contradictory are brought pointedly together to increase
the oratorical effect.
As in Chatham: "Who is the man that has dared to call
into civilized alliance the wild and inhuman inhabitant of the
WO ods? — to delegate to the merciless Indian the defence of
0BAT0KICAL ANTITHESIS. 49
disputed rights, and to wage the horrors of his barbarous war
against our brethren ? "
So in the speech of Brutus over the body of Lueretia : —
" Xow look re where she lies,
That beauteous flower, that innocent sweet rose,
Torn up by ruthless violence.' 1 ''
" Is dust and ashes proud ? " Want of intellect " makes a
village an Eden, a college a sty." The most common example
of this kind of contrast is Life and Death.
(3.) Contradictory or conflicting statements are some-
times made for the purpose of exciting wonder.
See the commencement of Extract IV. "What can be
more extraordinary than that a person of mean birth," &c.
The contrast of great results flowing from small agencies
excites wonder in its highest form — the sentiment of power, or
the sublime.
39. The chief thing to be considered in the employ-
ment of the trne Antithesis is the need there is for it.
Assuming that the contrast is genuine, and not fanciful, it
is still possible to multiply antitheses unnecessarily. In most
cases, a single statement sufficiently suggests the implied oppo-
site. When from obscurity or feebleness this is not the case,
the explicit mention of the contrast is a valuable aid.
The term Antithesis is also applied to modes of construc-
tion afterwards described under the Balanced Sentence.
EXEECISE.
Point out and name the figures in the following 'passages : —
Favors to none, to all she smiles extends.
Wisdom is grey hair to men.
Let us pass from the Stagirite to the philosopher of Malmes-
bury.
We bury love ;
Forgetfulness grows over it, like grass.
All Switzerland is in the field.
Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy
are deceitful.
3
50 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
Before his honesty of purpose, calumny was dumb.
Worn out with anguish, toil, and cold, and hunger,
Down sunk the wanderer ; sleep had seized her senses.
There did the traveller find her in the morning :
God had released her.
Panoplied in brass, they came from the ships and tents.
There be some who, with everything to make them happy, plod
their discontented and melancholy way through life, less grateful
than the dog which licks the hand that feeds it.
A hundred head of cattle sometimes passed in a drove.
In Demosthenes we find a fiery energy, but not that polish and
elegance that characterize Cicero.
His roof was at the service of the outcast ; the unfortunate
ever found a welcome at his threshold.
Still in harmonious intercourse they lived
The rural day, and talked the flowing heart.
Talent convinces ; Genius but excites :
That tasks the reason ; this the soul delights.
Talent from sober judgment takes its birth,
And reconciles the pinion to the earth ;
Genius unsettles with desires the mind,
Contented not till earth be left behind.
Talent, the sunshine on a cultivated soil,
Ripens the fruit by slow degrees for toil ;
Genius, the sudden Iris of the skies,
On cloud itself reflects its wondrous dyes,
And to the earth in tears and glory given,
Clasps in its airy arch the pomp of heaven !
It is the decree of Providence that man shall earn his bread by
the sweat of his brow.
Petitions having proved unsuccessful, it was next determined to
approach the throne more boldly.
Gold cannot make a man happy any more than rags can render
him miserable.
OTHER IMPORTANT FIGURES.
In addition to the three classes of Figures that have been
enumerated, corresponding to the three great powers of the
Intellect, we may single out, as involving principles of import-
ance, the Epigram, Hyperbole, Climax, Interrogation, Exclama-
tion, Apostrophe, Innuendo, and Irony.
THE EPIGRAM. 51
THE EPIGRAM.
40. Iii the Epigram * the mind is roused by a con-
flict or contradiction between the form of the language
and the meaning really conveyed. " The child is father
to the man " is an epigram. The language contradicts
itself, but the meaning is apparent. " Beauty, when
unadorned, 's adorned the most," is an epigrammatic
form of saying that natural beauty is better without
artificial decoration.
This is a figure of frequent occurrence. It is naturally
confounded with Antithesis, from the presence of an element
of contrariety. The intention, however, is not to elucidate a
truth otherwise than by awakening the attention through the
form given to it. Any contradiction gives a shock of sur-
prise, which is a state favorable to receiving an impression.
The following are examples of the epigram in its most
usual form, as now defined : —
" When you have nothing to say, say it."
" Conspicuous for its absence."
Grote says of the legendary age, that to it was a past that
never was present." The seeming contradiction conveys a real
and important meaning.
" We cannot see the wood for trees," is an impressive illus-
tration of the difficulty of attaining a general view, when en-
grossed with the details.
" Verbosity is cured by a wide vocabulary." This inti-
mates a truth under the guise of a self-contradiction. By the
*" Epigram" signified originally an inscription on a monument. It
came next to mean a short poem, containing some single thought pointedly
expressed, the subjects being very various — amatory, convivial, moral,
eulogistic, satirical, humorous, &c. Of the various devices for brevity and
point employed in such compositions, especially in modern times, the most
frequent is a play upon words. Under whatever name described, this is a
well-marked and distinct effect ; and, as all the other modes of giving point
have separate designations (metaphor, balance, &c), I have regarded it as
the principal form of epigram, and named it accordingly.
52 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
command of a wide vocabulary, we can make so nappy a selec-
tion as to give our meaning in few words.
Hesiod, illustrating the desirableness of simplicity of life,
exclaims, " How much is the half greater than the whole ! "
"By indignities men come to dignities," is a characteristic
saying of Bacon.
" The favorite has no friend."
" Some people are too foolish to commit follies."
" A soul of goodness in things evil."
" The better is the enemy of good," is a German proverb,
intended to reprove aspirations after impracticable improve-
ments. It is analogous to the homely saying, "More haste,
worse speed."
" By merit raised to that bad eminence."
" One secret in education is to know how wisely to lose
time." (Herbert Spencer.)
" Nothing so fallacious as facts, except figures." (Canning.)
"Every man desires to live long; but no man would be
old."
" Language is the art of concealing thought."
" 'Tis all thy business, business how to shun,"
" He surpassed himself."
" Out-heroding Herod."
" He is so good that he is good for nothing," is a play upon
the word good ; in the one clause it means mere amiability of
disposition, in the other the power of being useful.
Pope is especially fertile in epigrams : —
" And most contemptible to shun contempt."
" And now the chapel's silver bell you hear,
That summons you to all the pride of prayer."
" Nature, like liberty, is best restrained,
By the same laws which first herself ordained."
41. The effect of the Epigram in giving a shock of
surprise may be produced by the Identical Assertion : as,
" Fact is fact ; " " What I have written, I have written ; "
" Bread is bread."
To say that a thing is what it is, conveys no additional in-
THE EPIGEAM. 53
formation, and we are surprised that any one should make so
unmeaning an assertion. We then cast about, and find that
there are two senses in the words, and that the subject takes
one, and the predicate another. " What I have written," means
simply the inscription as set up by Pilate ; the second clause
"I have written" is intended to insinuate the further meaning,
not necessarily conveyed, that the inscription is written finally,
and is not to be amended or reconsidered. When Johnson
said " Sensation is sensation," it was his way of expressing
that his uneasy feeling on the occasion was too great to be
done away with by reasoning, or mastered by mere reso-
lution.
Bentham made an emphatic statement of the principle of
the equal rights of men, in the apparently identical proposi-
tion, " Everybody to count for one, and nobody to count for
more than one."
" His coming was an event ; " that is, something unusual.
42. Seeming Irrelevance, also, has the effect of an
epigrammatic surprise.
When Emerson says, " Where snow falls, there is a free-
dom," he puts together two things that have no obvious con-
nection ; the proposition appears not so much contradictory as
irrelevant and nonsensical. When we reflect a little, we see
that he means to describe the influences of tropical heat in de-
bilitating the energies of men, and so preparing them for politi-
cal slavery.
43. When a familiar saving is unexpectedly turned
into a new form which completely changes the meaning,
we may class it as an epigram.
As in the saying of Horace Walpole : " Summer has set in
with its usual severity." We might invert Spenser's designa-
tion of the old English, and say, " the well of English unpuri-
fied." " Do unto others, as ye would not that they should do
unto you."
In such a case as this last, it is known that the speaker
54 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
does not mean to contradict the highest maxim of morality,
aad therefore it is necessary to look out for his real drift, which
is probably ironical.
The following example is from Kinglake's History of the
Crimean War : " In the eyes of the Czar, Lord Stratford's way
of keeping himself eternally in the right and eternally moder-
ate was the mere contrivance, the inverted Jesuitism, of a man
resolved to do good that evil might come — resolved to be for-
bearing and just, for the sake of doing a harm to the church."
"He went to his imagination for his facts, and to his
memory for his tropes," is renowned as a cutting insinuation,
or sarcasm. It is an epigrammatic inversion of the province
of each of the two faculties named.
44. The use of the arrestive conjunctions gives-
something of the force of the epigram. " We hate the
sin, but pity the sinner." " The world will tolerate many
vices, but not their diminutives."
"Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull."
The epigram is evidently dependent upon a plurality of
significations in the same word. Many words have, besides
the obvious or familiar sense, some other acceptation that rec-
onciles the seeming contradiction, and gives a real and valua-
ble meaning. When Milton describes the leader of the Satanic
host, as " by merit raised to that bad eminence," the double
epigram turns upon the words merit and eminence; these, in
their first and obvious meaning, express qualities that we ad-
mire and approve, but they are also employed to denote un-
usual superiority of body or mind, although exhibited in ways
that we disapprove.
45. The Paronomasia, or Pun, is well known in or-
dinary conversation, and in comic writing, but rarely
enters into serious composition. It is a variety of the
Epigram ; being a play on the various meanings of the
same word. It is occasionally brought in with effect.
Ferrier, in his Philosophy, terms our Faculty of Sense a
HYPERBOLE; 55
Faculty of Nonsense, availing himself of the double meaning
of the word to suggest a doctrine.
The Conundrum pushes to the utmost limits the playing at
cross purposes with the meaning of words.
HYPERBOLE.
46. Hyperbole consists in magnifying objects beyond
their natural bounds, so as to make them more impres-
sive or intelligible. " Swift as the wind ; " " rivers of
blood and hills of slain," are hyperbolical expressions.
So far as the feelings are concerned, the tendency to hyper-
bole or exaggeration may be referred mainly to two causes.
1. Every strong passion magnifies whatever concerns it.
Love, fear, hatred, exaggerate their several objects in propor-
tion to their intensity. The Psalmist expresses his devotion
by the sentence, " A day in Thy courts is better than a thousand."
Affection has always been permitted to enhance its objects far
above their reality. Fear exaggerates danger. Hatred in-
tensifies, and even creates, bad qualities in the person or thing
hated.
This has to be attended to in depicting character. Any
one under strong passion is represented as magnifying the
object of the passion. The terrified scout, in Ossian, is made
to describe the enemy thus : " I saw their chief tall as a rock
of ice; his spear the blasted fir; his shield the rising moon;
he sat on the shore, like a cloud of mist on the hill." Satan's
despair is portrayed in the famous passage, " Me miserable," &c.
Flattery and Adulation are names for the figure in one
particular application.
2. Human desire is naturally illimitable. Hence, whatever
pleases us in poetry, or in the fine arts generally, is magnified
as far as can be done without offending our sense of reality and
truth.
Wordsworth, in his praise of Duty, exclaims,
" And the most ancient heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong."
56 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
It is a function of poetry to please us by objects of sur-
passing grandeur or loveliness, taken from nature and from
humanity. Accordingly, it raises actual things by the force of
elevated description, and by all the arts of admissible exagger-
ation. On account of this feature of the poetic art, Plato
banished poets from his Republic, and Bentham styled poetry
" misrepresentation in verse."
As a familiar instance, we may quote from Milton,
" So frowned the mighty combatants, that hell
Grew darker at their frown. 11
The hyperboles of Shakespeare are in keeping with the
force and profusion of his genius. They minister to the in-
tensity of passion in his characters. See, as an example, the
soliloquy of Macbeth before the murder, Act L, Scene 7.
Exaggeration is largely resorted to for comic effect. As
the ludicrous requires that a certain object should be deprecia-
ted in some mode or other, this is not unfrequently effected by
gross exaggeration. Voltaire, speaking of our language, said
" The English gain two hours a day by clipping words."
47. Hyperbole must be kept within the limits im-
posed upon the bolder figures. All such figures (1)
should have regard to what the hearer is disposed to
admit in the way of departure from the known reality,
(2) should be sparingly used, and (3) should not be trite.
(1.) The feelings of those addressed must be sufficiently
strong to come up to the hyperbolical expression. Few were
prepared, in this respect, for Dryden's couplet on Charles II. : —
" The star that at your birth shone out so bright,
It stained the duller sun's meridian light."
The hyperboles of love are admissible only with the lover.
(2.) A continued strain of Hyperboles, as in the Ossianic
poems, is condemned as too exhausting.
(3.) Originality is indispensable to hyperbole. A mere
exaggeration is easy ; the kind that yields pleasurable surprise
must have novelty, grandeur, or point, to recommend it. Plato
CLIMAX. 57
compared the Idea of Good to the Sun. Horace speaks of a
man " striking the stars with his sublime head."
Burke's famous passage on Marie Antoinette is a hyper-
bole, rendered impressive by chivalrous devotion and by origi-
nality in the language.
The following example is from Shelley : —
u There was such silence through the host, as when
An earthquake, trampling on some populous town,
Has crushed ten thousand with one tread, and men
Expect the second."
48. What is called putting an Extreme Case, is an
important device of exaggeration for the purpose of
illustrating truth.
We reproach a man for neglecting some common duty, by
putting it to him what would be the consequences if every one
were to be equally remiss.
To show the influence of the mind on the body, it is usual
to quote the extreme instances of persons dying of a broken
heart, or killed by a shock of grief or of joy.
Xenophanes illustrates the origin of the pagan gods, by the
remark that, if oxen or lions were to become religious, they
would in like manner provide for themselves gods of their own
shape and character.
CLIMAX.
49. Climax is the arranging of the particulars of a
period, or other portion of discourse, so as to rise in
strength to the last.
The common example of this figure is from the Oration of
Cicero against Verres. The orator, wishing to raise the indig-
nation of the audience to the highest pitch, refrained from
specifying the crime of the accused at once, and led the way
up to it by successive steps : " It is an outrage to bind a Roman
citizen; to scourge him is an atrocious crime; to put him to
death is almost a parricide ; but to crucify him — what shall I
call it?"
3*
58 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
Climax owes its effect to the peculiar constitution of the
mind. A slight stimulus is at first sufficient to afford gratifica-
tion ; as this palls, we must have something stronger ; and so
by successive steps the highest degree of strength is called for,
and the greatest effect secured.
The principle of rising in this way by successive degrees
applies to the sentence or period, to the paragraph, and to the
entire composition. A play, or a romance, increases in excite-
ment by degrees to the final catastrophe; and so ought an
oration.
We do not here particularly inquire what constitutes de-
grees of strength or impressiveness. Whatever be the reasons
why one expression, circumstance, or situation, stirs up a more
lively feeling than another, the less lively should precede the
stronger. It has been seen that the special or concrete is more
impressive than the general or abstract. On this ground,
Campbell considers that the following passage in the Song of
Solomon constitutes a climax : " For lo, the winter is past, the
rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the
time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the
turtle is heard in our land ; the fig-tree putteth forth her green
figs, and the vines, with the tender grape, give a good smell."
The description commences with the generalities, " winter," the
season of " rain ; " proceeds to specialize the " flowers," the
"birds; " and comes at last to individuals, "the turtle," "the
fig-tree," and " the vine."
The Climax is exemplified in the Appendix, Extracts I., IV.,
&c.
Burke's peroration in the impeachment of Warren Hast-
ings, seems intended for a climax, but the gradation is
scarcely apparent. "I impeach him in the name of the
Commons of Great Britain in Parliament assembled, whose
parliamentary trust he has abused (1). I impeach him in the
name of our holy religion, which he has disgraced (2). I im-
peach him in the name of the English constitution, which he
has violated and broken (3). I impeach him in the name of
the Indian millions, whom he has sacrificed to injustice (4).
INTEEB0GATI0N. 59
I impeach him by the name and by the best rights of human
nature, which he has stabbed to the heart (5)." The third
sentence should have been second; between the third and
fourth there would then have been a natural connection. The
fourth derives its strength from speciality, while the fifth can
merit the highest place only by the width of its comprehension,
which redeems the abstractness of the subject, " the rights of
human nature."
Any great departure from the order of ascending strength
is called an Anti-climax.
INTERROGATION.
50. The Interrogation aims at conveying an opinion
more strongly by giving it the form of a question. " Hath
he said it, and shall he not do it ? " affirms strongly that
what is said will be done.
We may be listless while one is merely making declarations,
but on being appealed to by a question we are obliged to attend.
The commencement of Cicero's First Oration against Cati-«
line is considered a striking and well-timed employment of this
figure. Demosthenes exemplifies it in his passages of denun-
ciation in the Philippics, and in the Speech on the Crown.
" Will you continue to go about to each other and ask, What's
the news ? Can anything be more new than that a man from
Macedonia should subjugate Greece ? Is Philip dead ? Xo in-
deed ; but he is ill. What matters it to you ? To you, who,
if he were to come to grief, would quickly get yourselves
another Philip?"
Chatham, in his grandest outburst, demands, " Who is the
man that . . . has dared to authorize and associate to
our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage ? "
Pope concludes his passage in Addison : —
"Who would not laugh, if such a man there be?
Who would not weep, if Atticus were he ? "
It will be seen from these examples that the negative inter-
rogation affirms, and the positive denies.
60 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
A certain pitch of excitement is requisite to justify the
boldness of this figure.
EXCLAMATION.
51. "When from sudden and intense emotion, we give
utterance to some abrupt, inverted, or elliptical expres-
sion, we are said to use an Exclamation ; as " bravo,"
" dreadful," " the fellow," " what a pity ! "
To comply -with the full forms of ordinary speech demands
a certain coolness and deliberation, the opposite of a state of
sudden excitement.
The Interjection is a species of exclamation. Most inter-
jections have no meaning except as indicating sudden emo-
tion ; oh, bah, hurrah. The cheers, hisses, and groans called
forth by a public speaker are of this nature.
The Exclamation proper usually consists of words with
meaning. Sometimes a part of the complete sentence is
dropped : "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse ! " " Oh,
the riches both of the goodness and the mercy of God ! " At
other times, it is the strong expression of a wish, as in Cow-
per's lines : —
" Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness," &c.
APOSTROPHE.
52. Apostrophe consists in addressing something
absent, as if present ; as when an orator invokes some
hero of other times, or a preacher appeals to angels and
departed saints. It supposes great intensity of emotion.
This figure is often combined with personification. "O
death, where is thy sting ! " " thou sword of the Lord, how
long will it be ere thou be quiet ! "
So in Campbell's apostrophe : —
"Eternal Hope, when yonder spheres began," &c.
INNITENDO. 61
This figure is frequently employed for comic effect ; as in
Burns's "Tarn o' Shanter":—
" Ah, Tarn ! Ah, Tam ! thou'll get thy fair-in' ! "
It is a liberty taken with exalted objects and persons to
address them with familiarity, and the result is degrading and
thence ludicrous. The writings of Carlyle abound with this
figure thus employed.
53. The figure called Vision is allied to Apostrophe,
and consists in bringing the absent before the mind with
the force of present reality.
Something approaching this occurs in Chatham: "From
the tapestry that adorns these walls, the immortal ancestor of
this noble lord frowns with indignation at the disgrace of his
country."
Byron's Gladiator is supposed to be seen in the body, on
the mere suggestion of the statue.
A striking apostrophe, raised to Vision, occurs in the pero-
ration of Robert Hall's Sermon on the Threatened Invasion of
1803.
INNUENDO, OR INSINUATION.
54. When a thing, instead of being plainly stated,
is suggested or implied merely, the effect is sometimes
much greater. This is Innuendo.
When it was said of a member of Parliament that "he did
his party all the harm in his power, he spoke for it and voted
against it " — his unskilful oratory is denounced with a peculiar
force. The omission of the direct statement makes the fact
seem so notorious, that it can be assumed and proceeded on
without that formality.
A compliment is rendered more forcible by being merely
insinuated. The recipient of direct praise dreads the jealousy
of others, and is laid under the necessity of professing grati-
tude and humility ; all which is saved by the indirect compli-
ment.
62 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
When the Innuendo is employed in vituperation, it has an
advantage belonging in a still greater measure to the next
figure ; it baffles reply. The thing is said, and yet said so
that the person reflected upon cannot lay hold of it in the way
of refutation or retort.
A good example is furnished in Pope's lines on the Lord
Mayor's pageant : —
" Now night descending, the gay scene is o'er ;
But lives in Settle's numbers one day more.''''
Fuller's saying on Camden, the antiquarian, is a witty in-
nuendo : " He had a number of coins of the Roman Emperors,
and a good many more of the later English Kings. 11
In the progress of refinement, innuendo takes the place of
open vituperation.
The device of suggesting, instead of openly expressing, is
made to ramify widely in literature and the fine arts. The full
illustration of it does not belong to this place. The moral tale
evades our usual repugnance to a moral lecture, by conveying
its lesson under the guise of an amusing story. But the
painter and the poet have other intentions besides this. They
introduce particulars that imply a great deal more than they
express, and thus give a starting-point to the thoughts. This
is always a source of pleasure to the mind, which likes to have
a certain scope for desire and imagination.
Suggestion may be employed with advantage when a full or
direct statement would involve what is harsh or offensive, as in
depicting violent anguish or horror, and even in such extreme
manifestations of pleasure as the observer cannot sympathize
with.
IRONY.
55. Irony expresses the contrary of what is meant,
there being something in the tone or manner to show
the real drift of the speaker ; as in Job's address to his
friends, " No doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom
will die with yon."
ERONY. 63
The ironical address gives an opponent no handle, and is
thus an embarrassing instrument of vituperation.
Carlyle, speaking of the much abused Cromwellian Puri-
tans, says, " yet they were not altogether imbeciles, these men."
The cloak of Irony was put on by Swift in his masterpieces
of allegory — Gulliver, the Tale of a Tub, and the Battle of the
Books.
There is a delicate stroke of irony in Sir G. C. Lewis's re-
mark on the pretended antiquity of the Babylonian Astronomy.
" The story of the astronomical observations, extending over
31,000 years, sent from Babylon to Aristotle, zoould be a con-
clusive proof of the antiquity of the Chaldcean Astronomy, if it
were true.'''' The irony consists in seeming to accept the enor-
mous allegation, with merely the slight reservation, if it were true.
Sarcasm is vituperation softened in the outward expression
by the arts and figures of disguise— epigram, innuendo, irony
— and embellished with the figures of illustration. The Letters
of Junius come under this description.
Pope's Atticus is a mixture of direct vituperation, epigram,
innuendo, and irony.
There is irony amounting to sarcasm in Locke's remark
upon the Aristotelian Logic: "God did not make man, and
leave it to Aristotle to make him rational."
56. Of the figures of the old rhetoricians only a
small number have been selected in the foregoing expo-
sition. Many are mere varieties of those now given ;
some will appear in other connections ; while a consid-
erable number are so minute or trivial that they are
scarce worth attending to.
Ellipsis, or the omission of a word or words essential to
the construction but not to the sense, is a figure of both gram-
mar and rhetoric. It conduces to brevity, and is sometimes
a sign of strong feeling. It is also a suggestive figure ; what
is unexpressed being left to the imagination to fill up.
The single word " Impossible " is more expressive than a
complete sentence affirming impossibility.
64 FIGURES OF SPEECH.
Asyndeton, or the omission of connectives, is a figure con-
ducing to energy. " The wind passeth over it — it is gone."
" Thou sentest forth thy -wrath — it consumed them as stubble."
See also the song of Moses, and Psalm civ. 28-30. Great
stress was laid on this figure by the Greek rhetoricians.
The Hyperbaton (much used, it is said, by Demosthenes) is
purposed inversion and perplexity, before announcing some-
thing of great emphasis and import, thus giving to a meditated
expression the effect of an impromptu.
EXERCISE.
Point out and name the figures in the following passages : —
No light, but rather darkness visible.
A frame of adamant, a soul of fire,
No dangers fright him, and no labors tire.
Art thou the first man that was born ? or wast thou made be-
fore the hills? Hast thou heard the secret of God ? and dost thou
restrain wisdom to thyself?
He lived to die, and died to live.
Harmonious discord everywhere.
But there are even some, O Komans, who say that Catiline has
been cast into exile by me. That timid and very modest man, no
doubt, was unable to endure the voice of the consul ; as soon as he
was ordered to go into exile, he obeyed, he went.
Ossian's Address to the Moon : — Daughter of heaven, fair art
thou ! The silence of thy face is pleasant. Thou comest forth in
loveliness. The stars attend thy blue course in the east. The clouds
rejoice in thy presence, Moon ! They brighten their dark-brown
sides. "Who is like thee in heaven, light of the silent night ? The
stars are ashamed in thy presence. They turn away their spark-
ling eyes. Whither dost thou retire from thy course, when the
darkness of thy countenance grows? Hast thou thy hall, like
Ossian ? Dwellest thou in the shadow of grief? Have thy sisters
fallen from heaven ? Are they who rejoiced with thee at night no
more? Yes, they have fallen, fair light! and thou dost often retire
to mourn. But thou thyself shalt fail one night, and leave thy blue
path in heaven. The stars will then lift their heads; they who
were ashamed in thy presence will rejoice. Thou art now clothed
with thy brightness. Look from thy gates in the sky. Burst the
EXEECISE. 65
cloud, O wind ! that the daughters of night may look forth ; that
the shaggy mountains may brighten, and the ocean roll its -white
waves in light.
The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ;
And, like an insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.
If I had as many tongues as there are stars in heaven, as many
words as there are grains of sand on the shore, my tongues would
be tired, and my words exhausted, before I could do justice to your
immense merit.
"War and Love are strange compeers.
War sheds blood, and Love sheds tears ;
War has swords, and Love has darts ;
War breaks heads, and Love breaks hearts.
And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith, virtue ;
and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; and to
temperance, patience ; and to patience', godliness ; and to godliness,
brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity.
Hasten slowly.
Oh for a lodge in some vast -wilderness !
Some boundless contiguity of shade !
How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morn-
ing!
As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and
drieth up : so man lieth down, and riseth not : till the heavens be
no more, they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep. O
that thou wouldest hide me in the grave, that thou wouldest keep
me secret, until thy wrath be past, that thou wouldest appoint me
a set time, and remember me !
A Scotch mist becomes a shower ; and a shower, a flood ; and
a flood, a storm ; and a storm, a tempest ; and a tempest, thunder
and lightning ; and thunder and lightning, heaven-quake and earth-
quake.
For contemplation he and valor formed ;
For softness she and sweet attractive grace ;
He for God only, she for God in him.
Me miserable ! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ?
Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep,
Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
66 NUMBER OF WORDS.
CHAPTER II.
THE NUMBER OF WORDS.
57. The Figures of Speech all conduce to the great-
er effectiveness of style ; they either present a thought
more vividly to the intellect, or operate more power-
fully upon the feelings.
It is now requisite to consider two other devices
having the same objects in view as figures. The one
regards the Number of Words employed, and the other
their Arrangement.
58. On the principle of attaining ends at the small-
est cost, Brevity is a virtue of language.
Every word uttered taxes the attention and occupies a space
in the thoughts; hence when words are used only as instru-
ments, they should be compressed into the least compass con-
sistent with the adequate expression of the meaning. The
epithets " terse," " concise," " laconic," imply strength as the
result of brevity. The veni, vidi, vici of Csesar is unsurpassed
and immortal. Of the ancients, Thucydides, Horace, and
Tacitus were celebrated for brevity. Dante is likewise a great
example. Though the genius of the English language is not
so favorable to condensed forms of expression as that of the
classical tongues, yet some of our writers are models of an
elegant brevity; it is sufficient to mention Shakespeare and
Pope.
59. The chief sources of Brevity are (1) the selec-
tion of the aptest words ; (2) a condensed grammatical
structure ; and (3) the employment of figures, more espe-
cially Comparison and Metaphor, Transferred Epithet,
Antithesis, Epigram, and the admissible forms of El-
lipsis.
(1.) For the selection of words no precise rules can be
SOURCES OF BREVITY. 67
given. The effect, on trial, will show what answers the pur-
pose of conveying much meaning in a small compass.
(2.) There are certain constructions favorable to brevity.
These are — the use of the participle for the clause with a finite
verb; apposition, instead of connectives; the employment of
the abstract noun (See Simplicity) ; the use of adjectives for
adjective clauses,* of nouns for adjectives (" knowledge qualifi-
cation," " stump orator "), of the phrase made up of preposition
and noun, with or without an adjective (" action for trespass,' 1
" the right of the strongest ") ; the contracted and the con-
densed sentence.
(3.) As regards the employment of figures, it is apparent,
from the illustrations already given, that the species named
contribute to Brevity. The following are a few additional
examples: — Pitt's defence of the rotten burgh system was,
" Their amputation would be death " (to the country). Cur-
ran's saying on Irish liberty is equally terse : " I sat at her
cradle, I followed her hearse."
The proverb, or aphorism, is a condensed expression of a
truth, generally embodying an epigram, or a balanced struc-
ture. " Least said, soonest mended."
60. Brevity has to be sought without sacrificing
perspicuity and the proprieties of language.
There are occasions when the desired effects of style
are gained by clifiuseness.
For example, an explanation must be suited in length to
the state of mind of the persons addressed ; while things well
known are recalled by brief allusion. In working up the feel-
ings, a certain length of time is requisite, which the orator and
poet know how to adjust. Again, in suiting the sound to the
sense, a polysyllabic word, or a lengthened clause, may be re-
quired. Thus the long word stupendous better corresponds
with a state of intense astonishment than the monosyllable
* " The clouds . . . .let all their moisture flow,
In large effusion, o'er the freshened world."
Byron describes the Rhine castles as "all tenantless, save to the cran-
nying wind."
68 NUMBER OF WORDS.
vast; magnificent is more powerful than grand. The high-
sounding word ambassador suits a dignified functionary ; while
we often express contempt by a curt appellation, as a flirt, a
fop, a sot, a thief, bosh.
It is a general rule that an excess of the connecting parts
of speech — as pronouns and conjunctions — enfeebles the style.
Yet emphasis sometimes requires their multiplication ; as in
the words of St. Paul, " For I am persuaded that neither life,
nor death, nor," &c.
So in Milton : —
" Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom or summer's rose,
Or flocks or herds, or human face divine."
Other exceptions wttl appear in what follows.
61. The violations of Brevity are of three kinds,
denominated Tautology, Redundancy, and Circumlocu-
tion.
I. Tautology means the repetition of the same
sense in different words ; as when Swift says, " In the
Attic commonwealth, it was the privilege and birth-
right of every citizen and poet, to rail aloud and in
public? The meaning is the same as, " it was the
privilege of every citizen to rail in public."
The following sentence from Tillotson contains numerous
tautologies : " Particularly as to the affairs of this world, in-
tegrity hath many advantages over all the fine and artificial
ways of dissimulation and deceit ; it is much the plainer and
easier, much the safer and more secure way of dealing with the
world ; it has less of trouble and difficulty, of entanglement and
perplexity, of danger and hazard in it. The arts of deceit and
cunning do continually grow weaker, and less effectual and
serviceable to them that use them."
So in Addison : —
" The dawn is overcast ; the morning lowers,
And heavily in clouds brings on the day."
These three clauses all express the same fact.
TAUTOLOGY. 69
Through constantly aiming at a balanced structure of sen-
tence, Johnson sometimes approaches this fault. Speaking of
the style of Pryor, he says : " He had often infused into it
much knowledge and much thought ; had often polished it into
elegance, often dignified it into splendor, and sometimes height-
ened it to sublimity ; and did not discover that it wanted the
power of engaging attention and alluring curiosity."
The coupling of synonymous words and phrases is
admissible under the following circumstances : —
(1.) When one word does not express the full sense
intended.
No two words are exactly synonymous for all purposes ; one
has a shade that the other wants ; and it may take both to give
the whole' meaning. Hence we are accustomed to such phrases
as " ways and means," u passing and transitory," ' ; subject-mat-
ter." -In legal documents synonymous words are joined for the
sake of exhaustive completeness. When Wordsworth couples
"the vision and the faculty divine," he intends that the two
phrases, which are nearly alike, should unfold between them a
greater amount of meaning than either conveys.
(2.) For the sake of putting greater stress on the
prominent points of the exposition.
Good exposition requires that the main subject should be
distinguished from the subordinate parts. This is effected,
among other ways, by dwelling longer upon it ; and repetition
by means of equivalent phrases may be occasionally resorted
to. " The head and front of his offending: " " the end and de-
sign"
It is implied in the foregoing principle that wordy
diffuseness should be especially avoided in subordinate
clauses and statements.
It is often better that a subordinate clause should be feeble
or obscure, than that it should be raised out of its place by
amplification. Gibbon, speaking of the deification of the
Roman Emperors, says : " This legal, and, as it should seem,
70 NUMBER OF WORDS.
injudicious profanation, so abhorrent to our stricter principles,
was received with a very faint murmur by the easy nature of
Polytheism." This is better than, " by Polytheism, which was
of a nature easy and accommodating.' 1 ''
(3.) In strong passion, when the mind is disposed to
dwell npon the object of the passion.
Chatham's famous address abounds in tautoiogies referable
to this principle. "I am astonished, I am shocked, to hear
such principles confessed; to hear them avowed in this house
. and in this country." So, Bolingbrohe exclaims in an invec-
tive against the times : " But all is little, and low, and mean
among us." Cicero's exultation over Catiline's discomfiture
was expressed by the use of four verbs nearly equivalent in
meaning — u Abiit, excessit, evasit, erupit."
Affection and admiration lead to similar repetitions.
It is desirable to avoid such tautologies as the " first ao--
gressor," the " standard pattern," the " verdant green," " some
few." So, excess of inflection is objectionable ; as " chiefest,"
" extremest," " worser," " most highest."
62. II. Redundancy, or Pleonasm, consists of addi-
tions not essential to the sense.
As when something sufficiently implied in the words al-
ready used is also separately expressed. The following is an
extreme illustration : " They returned bach again to the same
city from whence they came forth ; " the five words in italics
are redundant. " The different departments of science and of
art mutually reflect light on each other ; " either of the expres-
sions in italics embodies the whole idea. A very common re-
dundancy is exemplified in the expression, " the universal opin-
ion of all men." In the sentence, " I wrote you a letter
yesterday," the words a letter may be omitted, being already
implied in " I wrote you."
While Tautology adds a superfluous word in the same gram-
matical place, Redundancy repeats the meaning in a different
place : " I rejoiced at the glad sight."
REDUNDANCY. 71
Campbell remarks that our language contains many com-
pound words in which there is redundancy : as, unto, until, self-
same, four-square, devoid, despoil, disannul, oftentimes, nowa-
days, downfall, furthermore, wherewithal. Sometimes termi-
nations are added to words without a specific meaning: as,
mountain, fountain, meadow, valley, island, climate ; for mount,
fount, &c. Again, we find double terminations of the same
import, as in philosophical, tragical, political. In many such
cases, the different words gradually acquire different senses —
climate, clime ; politic, political.
Redundancy is permissible, for the surer conveyance
of important meaning, for emphasis, and in the language
of passion and of poetic embellishment.
In giving directions and instructions, it may be right to add
an explicit statement to what is already implied ; as in military
despatches and official instructions.
" We have seen with our eyes" " we have heard with our
ears" are redundancies that give emphasis to the action ex-
pressed.
The epithets and amplifications of poetry may add nothing
to the meaning, but they fulfil the end of the art, which is to
give pleasure.
" The breezy call of incense-breathing morn "
is an accumulation of picturesque circumstances to which the
rules of brevity would not apply.
Nevertheless, as the loading of style with epithets leads to
the fault called Turgidity, it must be kept under the restrictions
hereafter stated with reference to the quality of strength in
composition.
63. III. CrRcrjMLocrTiox means a diffuse mode of
expression, such that the remedy for it is, not omission
of parts, but the re-casting of the whole in terser lan-
guage.
The following is an example : " Pope professed to have
learned his poetry from Dryden, whom, whenever an opportu-
72 NUMBER OF WORDS.
city was presented, he praised through the whole period of his
existence with unvaried liberality ; and perhaps his character
may receive some illustration, if a comparison be instituted be-,
tween him and the man whose pupil he was ! " Condensed
thus : — " Pope professed himself the pupil of Dryden, whom he
lost no opportunity of praising ; and his character may be illus-
trated by a comparison with his master."
A Paraphrase, or Commentary, which professes to
explain something difficult or obscure, is often a kind of
circumlocution.
The devices of exposition will be fully stated hereafter.
What is called the paraphrase is usually a diffuse rendering of
the original. As applied to Scripture, Campbell and Whately
both animadvert on the practice of expanding " every passage
hard or easy, nearly to the same degree."
Examples of the dilution of a forcible original in a para-
phrase are cited by Macaulay, from Patrick : — " In the Song of
Solomon is an exquisitely beautiful verse. ' I charge you, O
daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him
that I am sick of love.' Patrick's version runs thus : ' So I
turned myself to those of my neighbors and familiar acquaint-
ance who were awakened by my cries to come and see what
the matter was ; and conjured them, as they would answer it to
God, that, if they met with my beloved, they would let him
k n ow — What shall I say ? — What shall I desire you to tell him,
but that I do not enjoy myself now that I want his company,
nor can be well till I recover his love again ? ' "
The term paraphrastic has come to signify a style enfeebled
by circumlocution.
Prolixity expresses the accumulation of circumstances and
particulars to the extent of encumbering the meaning.
There are lengthened forms used for giving emphasis and
importance ; as, " It would take a good deal of argument to
convince me of that," instead of simply "I doubt that;" " If
one were called to fix the period in the history of the world during
which the condition of the human race was most happy and
CIRCUMLOCUTION. Y3
prosperous, one would, without hesitation, name that which
elapsed from the death of Domitian to the accession of Corn-
modus." The periphrasis here is justified by the momentous
nature of the fact to be introduced.
Circumlocution may be employed with poetic effect, as in
Milton :—
" Nine times the space that measures day and night
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
Lay vanquished rolling in the fiery gulf."
There is elegance in Cowley's periphrasis — " set himself up
above all that was ever called sovereign in England."
The Euphemism often takes the form of circumlocution, as
in the following, commended by Longinus : " The appointed
journey," for death ; " The fallen are borne forth publicly by
the state," — that is, buried.
. CHAPTER III.
ARRANGEMENT OF WORDS.
64. As the grammatical order of words is not al-
ways the best for effect, this order is frequently de-
parted from in poetry, and sometimes in prose.
Grammatically, in English, the subject precedes the predi-
cate ; and, in constructions containing a transitive verb, the
order is — subject, verb, object ; but an altered order may add
to the force of the expression.
Thus the predicate may be placed first, " Great is the mys-
tery of godliness." " Blessed is he that cometh in the name of
the Lord." " Silent they lie." " There appeared to them
Moses and Elias."
" The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild sea-mew."
" Ndbal (fool) is his name, and folly is with him."
Campbell observes that our translation of the Bible has
4
74 ARRANGEMENT OF WORDS.
missed the effect of the original in the passage, " Babylon is
fallen, is fallen, that great city." By placing the participle of
the predicate first, the force is restored : " Fallen, fallen, is
Babylou, that great city."
The verbal root may be made to precede the auxiliary in
compound tenses; as, "go I must," "do it he shall."
The object of the verb is brought forward to the place of
emphasis in these examples : " Silver and gold have I none."
" Such bursts of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never
Remember to have heard."
"They could take their rest, for they knew Lord Stratford
-watched. Rim they feared, hirn they trusted, him they obeyed."
The adverb, when unusually emphatic, is occasionally made
to precede ; as, " Up goes my grave Impudence to the maid."
The negative adverb may thus be made emphatic.
" Not in the legions
Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd
In ills to top Macbeth."
" Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord," &c.
The place immediately after a conjunction, adverb, or ad-
verbial clause, beginning a sentence, is emphatic, as in Mil-
ton : —
" At last his sail-broad vans
He spreads for flight."
Also the place after the name of an object addressed :
" Powers and dominions, deities of heaven, —
Me, tho' just right and the fixed laws of heaven
Did first create your leader, — "
" Among many nations there was no king like Solomon ; never-
theless, even Mm did outlandish women cause to sin."
Thirdly, the place after a call to attention ; as, " Behold,
now is the accepted time."
In the following example, the inverted arrangement has to
be aided by a pleonasm : " Your fathers, where are they ? and
the prophets, do they live for ever ? "
The foregoing are Campbell's chief illustrations of the change
of order for effect. We have still to see the reasons.
PLACE OF QUALIFYING WORDS. 75
65. There are certain principles of arrangement that
enable ns more readily to apprehend the meaning of a
complex statement.*
The first is that qualifying words should precede the
object that they qualify ; as, a Mack horse, a decidedly
favorable answer.
This principle is otherwise expressed thus : " No concrete
image should be suggested until the materials for it have been
presented." The reason is, that if the name of the concrete
thing is given first, " horse," for example, the image formed by
the mind is likely to be wrong ; probably a bay horse, as the
most common, is pictured. Hence, when the word " black " is
added, the mental image must be unmade ; the bay color has
to be suppressed and the black inserted, unless we have been
accustomed to suspend the act of conceiving until all the ex-
pected qualifications are known. It is, therefore, better that
the word black should prepare the way for the mention of horse.
The English usage of placing the adjective before the noun is
thus justified on principle. So with the adverb and the verb.
As the predicate of a proposition modifies the subject, like
an adjective immediately qualifying it, there is a ground for
making the predicate precede the subject. The mention of
"great" should precede "the mystery of godliness," as it is
under the condition implied in u great " that the mystery is
meant to be imagined. The following verse from Coleridge's
"Ancient Mariner," although elliptical in its structure, illus-
trates the general principle : —
" Alone, alone, all all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea !
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony."
When the predicate verb is accompanied by some limit or
qualification as its complement, the limiting circumstances
ought to come first. The priority of the verb, as well as of
* Taken from Herbert Spencer's Essay on the Philosophy of Style
(Essays, p. 228).
76 ARRANGEMENT OF WORDS.
the complement, is illustrated in the opening of Keats's " Hy-
perion " : —
" Dee~p in the shady sadness of a vale,
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon and eve's one star,
Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone."
A conditional clause precedes the main clause, from the
same consideration. If the main clause stands first, the hearer
conceives it unconditionally, and then has to re-shape his con-
ception. And generally, subordinate clauses are properly made
to come before their principal. Containing, as the subordinate
proposition does, some qualifying or explanatory idea, its pri-
ority prevents misconception of the principal one, and therefore
saves the mental effort needed to correct such misconception.
The following is an example of the conditional clause placed
first : " Were the honor given to wealth and to title bestowed ex-
clusively on high achievements and intrinsic worth, how immense
would be the stimulus to progress ! "
In the next example, two subordinate statements are given
in advance, and the principal comes last.
" The secrecy once maintained in respect to the parliamentary
debates, is still thought needful in diplomacy; and, in virtue of this
secret diplomacy, England may any day be unawares betrayed by
its ministers into a war costing a hundred thousand lives, and hun-
dreds of millions of treasure ; yet the English pique themselves on
being a self-governed people ! "
66. A second principle is, that the words and expres-
sions most nearly related in thought should be placed
closest together. This consideration may prevent the
foregoing principle from being carried out to the full.
The longer the time that elapses between the mention of the
qualifying clause and that which it qualifies, the longer must
the mind be burdened with unemployed ideas ; and the burden
is increased according to the number of qualifying clauses.
Hence, other considerations being equal, preference is to be
given to the arrangement that entails the fewest and the
shortest suspensions. The following instance will illustrate
what is meant : —
ARRANGEMENT OF QTJALIFYrXG CLAUSES. 77
" A modern newspaper-statement, though probably true,
would be laughed at, if quoted in a book as testimony ; but
the letter of a court gossip is thought good historical evidence,
if written some centuries ago." Here the closely related clauses,
" a modern newspaper-statement," and " if quoted in a book as
testimony," are too far apart. Then, again, if both the quali-
fying clauses to " a newspaper-statement " ( u though probably
true," and " if quoted in a book as testimony "), were to pre-
cede, the suspension would be more than we are accustomed
to. In such a case, the best arrangement is to place the sub-
ject between the two qualifying members, thus bringing it close
to both. " Though probably true, a modern newspaper-state-
ment, quoted in a book as testimony, would be laughed at ; but
the letter of a court gossip, if written some centuries ago, is
thought good historical evidence."
To give another example. " TTe came to our journey's end,
at last, with no small difficulty, after much fatigue, through
deep roads, and bad weather." This sentence violates the
principle just laid down, the qualifications being all placed
after the statement qualified. On the other hand, the strict
carrying out of that principle would cause too many suspen-
sions : " At last, with no small difficulty, after much fatigue,
through deep roads, and bad weather, we came to our journey's
end." By arranging the qualifying clauses on the plan of be-
ginning with the most abstract, and by carrying backward the
verb and its subject we came, so as to enclose them in the mid-
dle of the qualifying clauses, and thereby shorten the suspen-
sions, we get the best arrangement, as follows : " At last, with
no small difficulty, and after much fatigue, we came, through
deep roads, and bad weather, to our journey's end ! "
In the consideration of the Sentence, there will be a farther
reference to the principles of arrangement.
78 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
CHAPTER IV.
THE QUALITIES OF STYLE.
67. Under the great variety of descriptive words em-
ployed to denote the merits and the demerits of style, we
may discern a few leading qualities.
In what has already been said regarding the Figures of
Speech, and the Number and the Arrangement of Words, ex-
planations have been furnished of many characteristics of style.
A composition abounding in any one of the figures would be
described by an epithet derived from the name of that figure ;
as, Metaphorical, Antithetical, Epigrammatic, Hyperbolical,
Ironical, Sarcastic, Elliptical. A profusion of figurative lan-
guage generally would receive the designations — Figurative,
Flowery, Ornate, Imaginative, Illustrative ; to which are opposed
the Plain, Dry, Bald. The number of words employed deter-
mines, on the one hand, the Diffuse or Verbose, and, on the
other, the Terse or Concise. So, according to the arrangement
of the words we would distinguish the Natural or Flowing from
the Inverted or Involved style.
With reference to Thought, or meaning, there are two chief
qualities — Simplicity and Clearness.
As regards Feeling, there is an important contrast between
what is designated by the terms Strength, Energy, the Sub-
lime, — and the qualities denominated Feeling, Pathos, and
Beauty (in a narrow sense) ; a contrast answering to the oppo-
sition of the Active and Passive sides of our nature. To these
two classes of effects, we must add the peculiar qualities denoted
by the Ludicrous, Humor and Wit.
It is necessary, further, to consider the Melody of language,
and also Expressiveness, that is, the suiting of the sound to the
sense.
Finally, a few observations are needed on the meanings of
Taste.
SIMPLICITY OF TERMS. T9
SIMPLICITY.
68. Simplicity is the quality of being easily under-
stood. It is opposed, not so much to the complex, as to
the abstruse.
The possibility of being simple must depend, in the first in-
stance, on the subject as compared with the capacity of the
persons addressed. But apart from this, there are certain gen-
eral peculiarities that render style more or less intelligible.
69. Simplicity may apply to the Terms, or to the
Structure.
Terms are simple, as opposed to abstruse and unin-
telligible, on various grounds.
(1.) They may represent common and familiar ob-
jects and actions, instead of such as are rare and remote.
In the sentence, " He that doeth these sayings is like to
a man that buildeth his house upon a rock," every one
of the terms has the simplicity belonging to things com-
mon and familiar.
Our native Saxon terms, and those foreign terms that have
come into use among people generally, are the most intelligible
of all. Our Latin derivatives are less understood by the unedu-
cated. The phraseology of science aud of special arts and profes-
sions, as Law, Medicine, Navigation, &c, is intelligible only to
such as are acquainted with the subjects concerned. Many
terms belong to scholarly erudition, and are more or less un-
known to the mass of men ; for example, allusions to ancient
mythology, and to the customs of remote nations.
When a subject can be treated in familiar language, it is
pre-eminently popular and intelligible. A man of great genius
will sometimes contrive to express himself, even on a difficult
subject, in popular phraseology ; but this power must soon find
its limit.
Johnson's remarks on Swift are in point here : " The
peruser of Swift wants little previous knowledge ; it will be
sufficient that he is acquainted with common words and com-
80 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
mon things ; he has neither to mount elevations nor to explore
profundities," &c.
(2.) The terms are simple when they relate to things
that are in their nature palpable and easily conceivable.
The objects of our senses are of this nature — the things
that we see, hear, touch, smell, taste. So are our familiar emo-
tions and energies — love, hate, fear, will, desire, &c. But the
world contains, besides these obvious things, a great number of
subtle and impalpable agents, hidden forces, that neither the
senses can discover nor the imagination realize. So that, while
the sun, the stars, the mountains, rivers, fields, houses, bread,
water, fire, are simple, — gas, molecule, electricity, latent heat,
vital force, association of ideas, free-will, are impalpable and ob-
scure. These last have to be understood by special study in
Physics, Chemistry, Physiology, the Human Mind, <fec. Among
the sciences, the Natural History group — Zoology, Botany, &c. —
owe their great popularity and intelligibility to the payable
character of their objects.
It is remarked that the ancient poets took their images from
familiar sources to a greater degree than the moderns ; this be-
ing the natural consequence of their priority.
(3.) The more general a notion is, the more difficult
it is to conceive ; hence terms expressing generalities
and abstractions, are not so simple as the names of indi-
viduals or concrete things.
It is easy to conceive a well-known mountain, river, tree,
house, steam-engine ; or an individual animal, man, or society.
Nothing is required but to remember the individual objects ex-
actly as we have been accustomed to observe them. But when
a whole class has to be viewed collectively, as mountains, rivers,
trees, in general, we have to bring to memory at the same mo-
ment all the individuals, or at least a considerable portion of
them, attending to their common features, and neglecting their
points of difference. A farther step in the same direction is to
conceive a quality in the abstract, or entirely separated from
SIMPLICITY OF WORDS. 81
the other qualities accompanying it in real things ; as, length,
extension, weight, fluidity, elasticity, attraction, intelligence,
goodness, temperance. The mind must still run over the par-
ticular objects possessing the quality, so as to affirm nothing of
the abstract idea that is not true of all the concrete instances
of it. Now it is a work of labor to recall the necessary exam-
ples ; and a speaker or writer should use such language as to
suggest these readily to the mind. Hence the advantage of
the figures that substitute the special, individual, and concrete,
for the general and abstract (§31). It is possible to express a
general truth in terms that shall be themselves highly concrete.
Compare the two following modes of expressing the same prin-
ciple of human nature. " In proportion as the manners, cus-
toms, and amusements of a nation are cruel and barbarous, the
regulation of their penal codes will be severe." " According as
men delight in battles, bull-fights, and combats of gladiators, so
will they punish by hanging, burning, and crucifying."
Such terms as pain, feeling, are less conceivable and less
forcible than ache, penury. Curve is very general, circle is less
so, wheel approaches the particular ; sun, full moon, are indi-
vidual, and the most intelligible of all.
The style of Bishop Butler is rendered difficult by the ex-
cessive employment of general and abstract terms, unrelieved
by such as are specific and concrete. The following sentences
will give an idea of what is meant : — " Self-love and interested-
ness was stated to consist in, or be, an affection to ourselves, a
regard to our own private good. But that benevolence is dis-
tinct from, that is, not the same thing with self-love, is no reason
for its being looked upon with any peculiar suspicion, because
every principle whatever, by means of which self-love is grati-
fied, is distinct from it," &c. (Sermon xi.)
70. The Abstract K'oun is the form that carries ab-
stract naming farthest ; as, motion, whiteness, color,
virtue, comprehension. Xouns denoting whole classes
of objects, Adjectives, Verbs, and Adverbs, tend rather
to suggest the concrete.
82 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
A Class Noun, as river, tree, city, denotes concrete objects,
although requiring a whole class to be taken into account,
which class the mind selects one or two individuals to repre-
sent. An Adjective, — as, large, wise, fruitful, — supposes a name
denoting a whole class, which it limits and renders more con-
crete ; as a " large house," a " fruitful field." The Verb requires
the mention of a subject, and very often an object also ; as, "he
comprehends the meaning," which is more concrete and sug-
gestive than the abstract noun " comprehension." The Adverb,
in this regard, resembles the adjective.
In the following sentence, abstract nouns are employed:
" The understanding of this truth will preclude that great source
of human misery, groundless expectations." To convert these
nouns into verbs and adjectives, the sentence would have to be
changed thus : " If we clearly understand that this is true, we
shall be saved from what often makes us miserable, namely, ex-
pecting what is groundless." In this form, the idea is more
readily conveyed than when expressed, as above, by a succes-
sion of abstract nouns.
It will readily be seen, from the above and other instances,
what are the compensating advantages of using the abstract
noun. In the first place, it is often more concise, which en-
titles it to preference when brevity is an object ; as in subordi-
nate clauses, which must not by their length overwhelm the
principal clause.
In the next place, it allows a passive and impersonal form to
be employed, which is often convenient : " Unless care be taken.''''
71. A series of abstract terms is difficult to follow.
Each separate abstraction requires a reference to examples
in the concrete, and we cannot, without labor, make this refer-
ence as rapidly as abstract words can be uttered.
72. The operation of the foregoing principle is modi-
fied nnder certain circumstances.
(1.) When the abstractions are simple and easy ; as length,
motion, warmth, strength, blackness, pain, sweetness, love.
ABSTRACT TERMS NOT SIMPLE. 83
(2.) When they have some natural connection, or have been
often grouped together ; as, " light and heat," " time and space,"
" number and importance," " virtue and happiness," " learning
and talents," " law, order, and morality."
(3.) When they are repeated in the concrete (Extract V.).
(4.) When they are merely symbols to connect thoughts,
and do not require attention directed upon themselves. This
is the case with the abstractions of mathematics, and in scien-
tific reasoning generally.
(5.) When they are intended to rouse the feelings. Thus,
an enumeration of the virtues may have no other object than to
excite a glow of approving sentiment : as, " faith, hope, charity ; "
" truth, justice, benevolence."
" For, with strong speech I tore the veil that hid
Nature, and Truth, and Liberty, and Love."
Among simple writers in English, we may name More,
Hobbes, Bunyan, Defoe, Tillotson, Addison, Swift, Goldsmith,
Cowper, Paley, Southey, Macaulay, Irving, Prescott, Bryant.
As examples of the more learned and abstruse style, we
have Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, Bacon, Hooker, Milton,
Barrow, Jeremy Taylor, South, Butler, Cowley, Pope, Johnson,
Gibbon, Bentham, Piobert Hall, De Quincey, Carlyle, Bancroft,
Emerson, Longfellow.
73. Simplicity of Structure means an arrangement
of clauses, sentences, and paragraphs, suited for easy
comprehension.
The principles of good arrangement have been in part ad-
verted to already (§65, 66), and will be more fully considered
under various subsequent heads.
74. With a view to simplicity of arrangement, it is
desirable to avoid a complication of negatives.
Such an expression as "The loss of blood destroys the
strength," is not so intelligible as the positive form " Abun-
dance of blood gives strength." Compare " Indifference to
suffering is unfavorable to sympathy," with "Being alive to
84 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
suffering favors sympathy." Again, " If they do not acquiesce
in his judgment, which I think never happened above once or
twice at most," is a puzzling, if not ambiguous, construction.
" It is not to be denied that a high degree of beauty does not
lie in simple forms."
CLEARNESS.
75. Clearness is opposed to obscurity, vagueness, am-
biguity, or ill-defined boundaries.
A statement is clear when there is no possibility of con-
founding it with anything else. This is more than is meant
by simplicity. Some of the means of attaining clearness have
been described under Figures (especially those of Similarity and
Contrast) ; others will be given in treating of Exposition.
76. Ambiguity of language being one chief obstacle
to clearness, words with a plurality of meanings should
be used in such connections only as exclude all but the
one intended.
It is not uncommon to find words used in such connections
as suggest most readily the meaning not intended. For ex-
ample : " A man who has lost his eye-sight has in one sense
less consciousness than he had before." The word sense, being
used after the mention of eye-sight, is naturally supposed to
mean one of our five senses, which is not the case. Again :
" And seeing dreams are caused by the distemper of the inward
parts of the body ; " here the word seeing, followed by dreams,
is apt to suggest the act of vision, instead of the meaning which
the word really has, inasmuch as. " There is something un-
natural in painting, which a skilful eye will easily discern from
native beauty and complexion." Here the first idea suggested
by the word painting is the art of painting ; what we find to be
the meaning is a painted face.
At other times, the word is simply ambiguous ; two mean-
ings being equally suggested. " His presence was against him"
means either " the fact of his being present and not absent," or
PREVENTION OF AMBIGUITY. 85
his " demeanor and appearance." " I remarked the circum-
stance " might imply either " I made a remark to some one,"
or " I was myself struck with the circumstance." The word
common, from its two significations, "usual" and "widely
spread," is a frequent cause of ambiguity.
The most effectual remedy for equivocal language is to men-
tion the term opposed to what is meant This method, however,
being cumbrous, is reserved for cases of special difficulty or im-
portance : we may say, " the moral as opposed to the physical,"
or " as opposed to the intellectual," or " as opposed to the im-
moral," according to the intended signification of the word moral.
To prevent ambiguity, tautology is sometimes allowable.
u Sense and acceptation " determines one meaning of sense ;
" sense or susceptibility " gives the other meaning.
77. The recurrence, at a short interval, of the same
word, in two different senses, is to be avoided.
Such constructions as the following tend to obscurity, be-
sides being inelegant : — " If the show of anything be good for
anything, sincerity is better." " It is many times as trouble-
some to make good the pretence of a good quality, as to have
it." " He turned to the left of the House, and then left ab-
ruptly." " The truth is that error and truth are blended in
their minds." " I look upon it as my duty, so long as I keep
within the bounds of truth, of duty, and of decency."
The two senses of the pronoun we, called the editorial and
the representative, are apt to be contused in this way. " We
(the writer) will now proceed to enquire how we (men gen-
erally) first arrive at such notions." It is in discussing human
nature that this clash arises, and the mode of avoiding it is to
use the singular pronoun for the speaker's self, or else to make
the construction passive or impersonal.
"vVhen a recurring word has one meaning prevailing through
the same discourse, it is wrong to bring it in unexpectedly in
one of its other meanings.
The word wit is said to be used, m Pope's Essay on Criti-
cism, in seven different acceptations.
86 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
78. In drawing comparisons, clearness is greatly pro-
moted by using similar constructions in setting forth the
agreements and differences, and excluding all unneces-
sary matter.
" The wise man is happy when he gains his own approba-
tion, the fool when he recommends himself to the applause of
others ; " say rather " when he gains other people's."
Hume says of Shakespeare : — " There may remain a sus-
picion that we over-rate the greatness of his genius, in the same
manner as bodies appear gigantic on account of their being dis-
proportioned and mis-shapen." The correspondence of the parts
would be improved thus : — " There may remain a suspicion that
the greatness of his genius is over-rated by us, in the same man-
ner as bodies appear" <fec.
This will be illustrated again under the Balanced Sentence,
and under the Paragraph.
79. It is essential to clearness that every word be
employed in one of its well-understood meanings, and
that the aptest terms should always be chosen. But
this cannot be effected by any rules of Rhetoric ; it be-
longs to the general cultivation of the mind. Some
help may be obtained from Dictionaries.
In clearness, our later writers have vastly improved on those
who preceded them. Even in the greatest authors of the Eliza-
bethan period and the times immediately following, ambiguity
is a frequent fault. Hobbes is perhaps the most remarkable ex-
ception to the general rule ; yet even in his works are found
ambiguities that no good writer at the present day would tolerate.
It may be doubted whether the ancient Greek and Roman
authors attended much to this peculiar merit of style. Many
of them certainly overlooked it.
STRENGTH.
80. Strength is that quality of style that elates us
with the pleasurable feeling called the sense or senti-
STEKN'GTH. 87
ment of Power. The highest form of strength is the
Sublime.
Other names for the same quality are Energy, Vio-or, Force
Nerve, Liveliness, Animation, Vivacity, Fervor, Loftiness, Bril-
liancy. Several of these have specific shades of meaning. Thus
Liveliness, or Animation, implies a certain rapidity in the flow
or cadence of the language, so as to render it more excitino*.
The poems of Sir Walter Scott exemplify this characteristic.
Fervor supposes great intensity of passion in the writer, made
apparent in the language. Loftiness scarcely differs from Sub-
limity. Brilliancy implies an ornate or figurative style well
sustained.
Under the general term Vivacity, here given as a synonym e
for Strength, Campbell' comprehends every excellence of style
as far as the feelings are concerned, excluding only the intel-
lectual qualities. Whatever can give effect to composition, or
stir up any of the powerful or agreeable emotions, is regarded
by him as a mode of Vivacity. He discusses the choice, num-
ber, and arrangement of words, and various other points, as
bearing on this general attribute.
But the effects so embraced are various, and some of them
strongly contrasted. Thus Sublimity is very different from
Pathos, and is often opposed even to the comprehensive desig-
nation, Beauty ; while something characteristic and peculiar Is
signified by Humor. It is, therefore, an object to arrive at an
exact definition of these contrasted qualities.
Leaving the humorous out of view for the present, we may
draw a distinction among the other effects, based on the differ-
ence between our Active and our Passive modes of pleasurable
excitement. The one is represented by the emotion of Power—
the sense of Might possessed or imagined ; the other, by what
is variously called Tender Feeling, Pathetic Emotion, Love,
Affection. The first we propose to illustrate under the present
head— Strength and Sublimity; the second will be found to
embrace a large circle of objects generally characterized by
Beauty as opposed to Sublimity, in which meaning it points
to the more soothing and passive enjoyments of Fine Art.
88 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
81. I. The essential pleasure of Power is an elation
or rebound from some state of weakness, impotence, con-
straint, or dread ; and, like the re-action from any de-
pressing condition, it imparts a grateful and hilarious
glow to the mind.
The pleasure is felt most acutely iu those moments when we
ourselves pass from a lower to a higher grade of efficiency ; as
in recovering from sickness, in growing stronger physically or
mentally, in acquiring wealth, and in being raised to a higher
position of influence or command. In a stationary condition,
the necessary contrast is supplied by the recollection of our own
former inferiority, and by a comparison with those at present
our inferiors.
82. II. We derive a pleasurable elation from wit-
nessing manifestations of Power in other beings. This
is an effect of Sympathy.
A thrill of pleasure may arise from the sight of great force
exerted by others. We feel for the time as if ourselves raised
to a higher pitch of energy. We enter (imperfectly and erro-
neously perhaps) into the feelings of the actor, and are sensibly
elated by this transferred or imagined power. Hence the in-
terest we take in superior force, whether bodily or mental, in
eminent fortunes, and in the display of public authority and
high command.
The same effect is due to the recital of deeds of superior
might. The mind is kindled in this way by the prowess of in-
dividuals and by the force of multitudes, as portrayed in the
annals of the world. The attitude of Socrates, on his trial and
before his execution, as set forth by Plato, has always been re-
garded as sublime.
The production of great effects of any kind is the sign of
energy ; as, the moving of a huge mass, or the stopping of a
mass in motion. When the agent appears to work without
effort, the impression is greatly enhanced. It is a favorite
stroke, in literature especially, to show great results from small
SUBLIMITY. by
beginnings and insignificant agencies ; as when the son of
a poor miner revolutionized the world. This is a motive to ex-
aggeration or hyperbole, — the charm of Romance and of fairy-
land.
83. The display of Anger or Indignation, if approved
of by ns, is sublime.
These passions are modes of power or energy, and, unless
they stir us up to disapprobation and hostility, they give us the
agreeable elation of power. In poetry, bursts of indignation are
highly effective. The angry passions and exalted energies of
combatants rouse the feeling of energy in the spectator.
In Gray's Welsh Bard we have an expression of indignation
raised to the sublime.
8-i. An effect of Terror sometimes mixes with the
Sublime, but it detracts from, instead of heightening, the
pleasurable sentiment.
Terror is, in its nature, a cause of weakness and prostration.
So far as an object of might excites dread, it gives pain and not
pleasure. One of the tokens of power is wide-spread destruc-
tion and ruin ; and, if we are ourselves exempted from the
misery, we may enjoy the spectacle as a manifestation of en-
ergy. If, however, there is danger to any of our own inter-
ests, we are overwhelmed by fear, in place of being elated by
sublimity.
The vast power exercised by the Mongol conquerors would
be sublime, if their destructive fury did not excite horror and
indignation.
Mere poetic and undefined terrors have little depressing
effect, and the power that they suggest gives rise to the un-
mingled sublime. There is no real terror inspired by the
speech in Hamlet : — " 'Tis now the very witching time of
night."
So, in Cowper, the lines
" While God performs, upon the trembling stage
Of his own works, his dreadful part alone,"
90 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
are sublime from the Avell-chosen circumstances for suggesting
p 0W er, — " the trembling stage," the acting " alone," and the
" dreadful " part ; while the dread is too vague to bring home
the sense of danger either to ourselves or to any definite per-
sons or interests.
In Milton's " Sin and Death " the sublime reposes upon
mere imagined terror.
85. III. A third form of the feeling is that arising
when we view or contemplate the powers of Nature.
Thus, in watching the ocean wave, the commotion of
the tempest, the flow of rivers and the fall of cataracts,
the mountains as they tower aloft, the volcano, and the
Alpine glacier, we are elevated and pleased by the feel-
ing of superior might.
Here also is a kind of sympathy. We look at such dis-
plays as if a being like ourselves, but vastly more powerful,
were at work. The personifying impulse of the mind led, in
former times, to a belief in actual spirits, of the human type,
investing the sea, the river, and the hurricane. The belief has
passed away, but the fiction is kept up, on account of the grate-
ful elation attending it.
The mere magnitude and expanse of the outer world — the
outspread landscape as seen from a commanding height, and
the plenitude of space with the scattered orbs of heaven — fill
the mind with a sense of vastness, which is a variety of the feel-
ins; of mijrht.
Even the results of man's industry may be on such a scale
as to impress us with the sentiment of superior power ; as in
the case of populous cities, vast buildings, extensive machinery,
mighty fleets, the implements of modern warfare.
86. The mental elation, arising on the view of per-
sonages and objects of superior power, may be imparted
through the mere description of them.
A writer may so describe a conquering army, an heroic
struggle, a grand prospect, a terrific storm, as to produce an
SUBLIMITY. 91
effect little, if it all, short of the reality. He may make up for
the inferiority of imagined scenes by a skilful employment of
the devices of language. When, by such methods, he can ex-
cite the feeling of manifested power, he attains the quality of
Strength, or the Sublime, in composition.
The words that name powerful, vast, and exciting objects,
effects, and qualities, make up the vocabulary of Strength.
Such are break, crush, wreck, destruction, ruin, storm, tornado,
torrent, ocean, mountain, continent, desert, world, planet, sphere,
star, galaxy, nature, chaos. Years, ages, centuries, immortal,
eternal, primeval. Height, loftiness, sublimity, vastness, im-
mensity, glory, expanse, infinite, ineffable, uncreated. Armies,
fleets, war, battles, conquerors, cities, nations, empires, states,
thrones, dominions, majesty, splendor, illustrious, divine, god-
like, hero, demigod, Deity, multitude, thousands, millions.
Magnanimity, resolution, determination, energy, force, might,
elation, will, freedom, genius, virtue, hope, faith. Words of
this class skilfully combined are sublime.
Simply to name one or more objects of superior might, is
not enough. A child could get by heart and repeat the desig-
nations of everything suggestive of power on the vastest scale —
the infinitude of space, the galaxies, the stars, the mountains,
the cataracts, the tempests, the heroes of the past. Even after
much pains, compositions aiming at the sublime are frequently
stigmatized as mock-sublime, bombast, grandiloquence, fustian,
falsetto, pinchbeck.
The following are illustrations of sublimity : —
" The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years ;
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt, amid the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds."
Here we have images of vast power and grandeur, rendered
effective by contrast and by climax.
Xothing was ever so well adapted to suggest utter and uni-
versal ruin as the following from Shakespeare : —
" Though the treasure
Of nature's germins tumble all together
E'en till destruction sicken, answer me to what I ask you."
92 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
See also the Poetical extracts in the Appendix.
87. The description of great and imposing objects,
operations, or events, will not constitute the Sublime in
composition, without certain conditions, already partly
indicated.
I. Originality. Novel comparisons, metaphors, and
other figurative effects, applied to what is intrinsically
great, are a principal means of strength.
In the real world, few things have the same effect after
repetition. So in language ; it is usually when first met that a
striking image or thought possesses the greatest charm. Nov-
elty is essential to many of our chief pleasures.
The literary works that have fascinated mankind, and earned
the lofty title of genius, abound in strokes of invention ; wit-
ness Homer, ^Eschylus, Plato, Virgil, Horace, Dante, Chaucer,
Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, De Foe, Pope, Addison,
Gray, Goethe, Scott, Byron, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley,
Keats, Bryant, Longfellow. No combination of other merits
could place any one in the first rank of poetic fame.
Some explanation is required of the fact that many objects
and compositions have the power to please after frequent repe-
tition.
In the first place, when there is a high degree of com-
plexity and elaboration, the whole effect of a scene or work of
art is not experienced on one occasion. It is often said of the
Swiss mountains, that they give new pleasure every time they
are beheld.
Secondly, our own state of mind may alter, and may render us
susceptible to beauties previously unfelt. This is especially the
case with regard to the greatest classical productions of poetry
and the other fine arts.
Thirdly, works that are far removed from what is habitual
and familiar to us may be said to have a perennial novelty.
This constitutes part of the charm of the ancient classics, of
foreign literature, and of the antique in our own country.
Fourthly, a great pleasure once felt can be revived in the
STRENGTH FROM HARMONY. 93
memory in connection with that which excited it. It is by
this memory or association of pleasure, that we counterwork
the dulling effects of repetition, and the inferior susceptibility
of advanced life. Affection is the memory of pleasure.
Fifthly, in artistic effects, it must not be forgotten how
much depends on the temperament of the individual. When
the mind is in a high degree disposed to some one emotion,
the repetition of the same objects and the same forms of lan-
guage neither palls nor loses effect. As regards the love of
nature, for example, Wordsworth's feelings were so copious that
he could exclaim,
" To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."
The same effect could not be wrought in men generally, ex-
cept by some of the rarest and greatest of scenic combinations.
Johnson's patriotism could burn on the plains of Marathon, and
his piety wax warmer amid the ruins of Iona ; and such would
be the experience of the average man. Wordsworth's heart
could fill on much smaller occasions.
88. II. Harmony and Keeping, or the mutual sup-
port of the language and the subject.
We have already remarked on the power of an apposite
comparison (Figures of Similarity, § 13). The mutual sup-
port of two effects diminishes the intellectual labor of conceiv-
ing, and thus heightens the pleasure. It is part of every fine
art, as will be afterwards seen, to accumulate harmonies. In
aiming at composition of a lofty kind, the difficulty is not so
much to find strong language as to adapt and harmonize it.
An examination of Milton's description of Sin and Death
would disclose an harmonious adjustment of the similes, the cir-
cumstances, and the flow of the language, to the subject aud
to one another. We have in this passage all the elements of
the sublime. The vast power of the objects described, the ex-
pression borrowed from other powerful objects, the originality,
the keeping of the particulars, and the rich cadence of the lan-
guage, — all contribute to the impression.
94 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
Strong epithets are forcible, only when bestowed on suitable
objects. The vague comparisons and ill-assorted circumstances
so frequent in Ossian, are a source of feebleness.
The mixture of Saxon and Classical elements in English has
often a discordant effect, and is adverse to poetry.
89. III. Variety, or the due alternation of effects.
What has been for some time out of mind has a certain
freshness on being renewed. We may derive, considerable
pleasure from varying or alternating effects already experienced.
After an interval, we can revisit impressive scenes, and re-peruse
great compositions, with delight.
On this ground, writing may be powerful by the variety
of its effects, although none are absolutely new. Commonplace
is not at its lowest, till it is narrow-ranging, poor, monotonous.
A full command of the ideas, images, and combinations of orig-
inal minds, will make a second-rate poet, a good play-wrigbt, a
successful novelist, or an eloquent orator.
90. Variety is sought after in all parts of compo-
sition.
The frequent occurrence of the same sound is un-
pleasant. Hence it is a law of melody to alternate the
letters of the alphabet. (See Melody.)
91. We avoid repeating words by the use of pronouns.
The same end is sought by employing general words and
synonymes. The following is an example : —
" The voyage is recommenced. They sail by the sandy shore
of Araya, see the lofty cocoa-nut trees that stand over Cumana,
pursue their icay along that beautiful coast, noticing the Piritu
palm at Maracapana, then traverse the difficult waters of the
gloomy Golfo Triste, pass the province of Venezuela, catch a
glimpse of the white summits of the mountains above Santa Martha,
continue on their course to Darien, now memorable for the failure
of so many great enterprises — and still no temple, no great idol, no
visible creed, no cultus"
A studied variation of terms is often carried too far ; and
there is seen in some eminent writers a readiness to incur repe-
tition to a degree that would once have been reckoned inele-
STRENGTH FROM VARIETY. 95
gant. In this sentence from Macaulay, we find both variety
and repetition : — " As there is no stronger sign of a mind desti-
tute of the poetical faculty than the tendency to turn images into
abstractions — Minerva, for example, into Wisdom — so there is
no stronger sign of a mind truly poetical than a disposition, to
reverse the process, and to make individuals out of gener-
alities."
In introducing synonymes to vary the language, there should,
if possible, be some other reason apparent in the selection. " If
any one take or touch a particle of the hoard, the others join
against him and hang him for the theft.' 1 '' Here, take or touch
describes the mere physical action ; theft is used in connec-
tion with its punishment as criminal. " Views with respect to
human improvement are so comforting to entertain, that even,
although founded in delusion, a wise man would be disposed to
cherish them ; " entertain and cherish are synonymes, but each
has a certain propriety in its own connection.
92. Variety is also sought in the length and in the
structure of sentences.
Some writers affect a succession of curt sentences, as Chan-
ning and Macaulay. In Johnson, we have the excessive itera-
tion of the balanced period, which is a beauty when sparingly
used. In Gibbon, the Johnsonian form is adopted, without
being earned to the same excess. A good style introduces by
turns every type of effective sentence that tits the subject.
93. In a long composition, as a Romance, a Play, or
an Oration, many different kinds of interest or effect are
purposely aimed at.
94. The extreme case of variety is Contrast ; as in
light and shade, cold and hot.
In style, variety amounting to contrast is seen in passing
from the Scientific or abstract, to the Poetic or concrete ; from
the Tragic to the Comic ; from Sublimity to Pathos. In such
transitions, not merely is one state of feeling remitted, but an
opposite is induced.
96 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
95. The more stirring effects should be relieved by
alternating with what gives little excitement.
A bold figure, a strong image, an impressive object, exert
their full force when the composition is in other respects quiet
and unexciting.
In Gray's Bard, the couplet,
" Give ample room and verge enough
The characters of hell to trace,"
exemplifies the effect of a single strong word set among others
of a quieter tenor. Pope is blamed for excess of epigrams and
other strong figures. Young's Night Thoughts are too much on
one key. The Essays of Macaulay want relief to their brilliancy.
Carlyle's French Revolution is saved by its great originality
from palling upon the attention : this is the prerogative of the
highest genius.
Apart from great originality, the strength of a composition
may be sustained by employing all the figures in due alterna-
tion ; now a simile or a metaphor, at another time a metonymy,
then a contrast, again an epigram, an hyperbole, an interroga-
tion, or a climax ; and no one figure should recur disproportion-
ately. Variety may also be attended to in the number of words,
as in alternating the terse with the elegantly diffuse ; and like-
wise in the arrangement, by well-timed inversions.
The effect of an occasional sparkle of imagination — as a
simile or an epigram — in a discourse addressed to the sober
reason, is grateful and exhilarating. When an emphatic ex-
pression comes from a man habitually sober and measured in
his language, the effect is doubly telling.
96. The putting of what is Specific and Concrete for
what is General or Abstract, is a recognized means of
strength.
The superior force of concrete and specific terms has been
seen under the figures, and also in explaining Simplicity. Ex-
amples are abundant in poetry. Every stanza of Gray's Elegy
is in point.
STRENGTH. 97
97. The description of the External or Object "World
is more conducive to strength than the description of
states of the mind.
It is a law of our nature that much attention directed upon
the feelings of the mind has a debilitating effect ; while, on the
contrary, to be taken out of self, and made to regard external
thing?, is inspiriting. In referring to humanity, the names im-
plying its outward and bodily aspects are, as far as practicable,
to be chosen. Better say, " Men (human beings, we) are dis-
posed to over-rate distant good," than " the mind is disposed,"
" our feelings exaggerate," &c. (See Description.)
98. Every aid to the easy understanding of what is
meant, contributes to strength.
All kinds of difficulty and labor, intellectual as well as bodily,
are depressing ; the relief from labor is cheering. Any device
that easily and vividly suggests a picture, is a means of strength.
An incoherent crowd of images oppresses the mind ; order in
the array, mutual harmony, and paucity of number, give the
cheerful feeling of intellectual relief. The first stanzas of the
Elegy of Gray are perhaps overcrowded. Uohenlinden is a
nearer approach to perfection, in the proper number of ideas
and images.
Xotice has already been taken of Brevity and the xVrrange-
ment of Words, as sources of Strength.
99. The peculiar effect known as Soaring, or taking
a night, demands keeping in the language, a climax in
the thought, and a cadence falling to the close.
See p. 91, and examples in Appendix.
100. The quality of strength and the sublime may
appear in scientific composition, although not the direct
aim of science.
The vast objects and powers of Nature are handled in sci-
ence as well as in poetry. Geography embraces the sublime
features of the earth, Astronomy the heavens. But the peculiar
5
98 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
force of science consists in the discovery of general laws, which
embrace in a short statement a wide range of knowledge. Such
enlargements of human insight and power may have the char-
acter that we are considering. The law of universal gravity is
sublime.
101. The modes and effects of strength are commen-
surate with the variety of powers in the physical, the
moral, and the intellectual world, whether cited on
their own account, or adduced in illustration of some-
thing else.
One great aim of composition is to heighten some actual
subject by the force of comparisons, allusions, and impressive
circumstances and groupings ; as, a scene of nature, an abode
of mankind, an event in history. In some instances, a purely
fictitious theme is worked up from borrowed materials, as in
Paradise Lost.
102. The poet enhances the sublime of ^Nature by
opening up new and impressive aspects of personality.
This is sometimes called Interpretation, as if it were the
evoking of hidden meanings in the aspect of things. We should
rather consider it as an agreeable illusion, brought about by
superadding foreign attributes.
The department of Nature-poetry is best represented in
modern times. Reference may be made to Thomson, Cowper,
Beattie, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Shelley, Keats, Tenny-
son, — and, among American poets, to Bryant.
The noble lines of Coleridge on Mount Blanc exemplify the
sublime. The following from Wordsworth is more akin to
Pathos : —
" Then up I rose
And dragged to earth both branch and bough, with crash
And merciless ravage ; and the shady nook
Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower,
Deformed and, sullied, patiently gave up
Their quiet '
TENDER FEELING. 99
FEELIXG— PATHOS.
103. In contrast to the sentiment of Power, there is
a class of emotions allied to inaction, repose, and the
passive side of our nature. They may nourish even
under the consciousness of weakness. The generic title
of these emotions is Tender Feeling.
The word feeling is sometimes used in a restricted sense, to
mean tender feeling, or tenderness. Love and the warm affec-
tions are displays of tender emotions. Pathos and the Pathetic
are other designations of the same quality.
Considered as a large source of human pleasure, these
emotions are important. They are a hond of mutual attrac-
tion, and increase hy being shared ; they manifest themselves
as a soothing and cheering influence in the depths of misery
and depression.
104. The Tender Feelings are awakened by objects
of special affection, by displays of active goodness, by
humane sentiments, by pain and misery, and by pleas-
ures, especially such as are gentle rather than acute. In
highly pathetic situations, several of these modes are
combined.
We have here to do with these influences, not in the actual,
hut as expressed in language ; and the illustration of them will
be determined accordingly.
(1.) As to what relates to the strong special affections of
mankind. Richter says, " Unhappy is the man whose mother
does not make all mothers interesting." Inasmuch as the gen-
erality of human beings have experienced some of the special
attachments of family, friendship, and country, any allusion that
strongly reminds them of these relationships has a tender influ-
ence. Such allusions form a principal ingredient in all kinds
of poetry. The love tale is indispensable to the drama and the
Romance.
(2.) Acts of goodness awaken the tender sentiment both in
100 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
the recipient and in the beholder. Hence the charm of narratives
illustrative of compassion, beneficence, and philanthropy. The
spectacle of devotedness has in every age exercised a fascination
over men's minds. Of the ideal pictures indulged in by poets,
this is the most frequent. The relation of protector and pro-
tected is dwelt upon even to excess.
Burke's picture of Howard is touching : — " He has visited
all Europe, .... to dive into the depths of dungeons ; to
plunge into the infection of hospitals ; to survey the mansions
of sorrow and pain ; to take the gauge and dimensions of mis-
ery, depression, and contempt ; to remember the forgotten, to
attend to the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and compare and
collate the distresses of all men in all countries."
(3.) The mere expression of kindly and humane sentiments
works in the same way. These sentiments are the echo and
approval of active goodness, and lose their power only when
offered as a substitute for the actions themselves.*
(4.) Pain, misery, calamity, — " all the ills that flesh is heir
to " — stir the depths of our tender nature. The words pity,
compassion, mean tenderness at the prompting of distress. It
is most natural that the pains of the affections should awaken
the feeling. The fate of mortality common to all, and its un-
timely arrival and untoward circumstances in the case of the
greater number, keep us in constant readiness for the tender
outburst. The passing away of generation after generation, the
sinking into forgetfidness, the long and last farewell, — are the
* One of the most touching passages in ancient poetry is that contained
in Ovid's Metamorphoses (Book xv.), where the poet, in describing the
tenets of the Pythagoreans, dwells upon their feeling of the sacredness of
animal life. After adverting to the deserved punishment of the wild beast
for his ravages and spoliation, he exclaims, "What have ye done to be so
treated, ye gentle sheep, made to provide for men, ye that bear nectar in
the full teat, that give us your wool for covering, and are more helpful in
life than in death ? What has the ox done, a guileless innocent beast,
made to endure toil ? " " Unmindful he, and not worthy to be repaid with
crops, who could kill the tiller of his fields, as soon as the weight of the
crooked plough was removed ; who struck with the axe that neck worn
with labor, which had so often renewed the hard field and given so many
harvests!" (116-126).
SOURCES OF PATHOS,' 101
touching themes of religion, the inspiration of the tragic poet,
the soul-engrossing actuality.
It is a strong testimony to the power of this emotion, not
merely to tranquillize, but to cause delight, that for the sake of
it we can bear with tales and pictures of distress. Even death
can yield a powerful fascination. Bear witness Gray's Elegy
and Bryant's Thanatopsis.
(5.) Though it appears a contradiction, the tender feeling
is awakened by pleasure as well as by pain ; particularly by the
gentle pleasures, as opposed to the fiery and exciting — by such
as are compatible with repose. The example most relevant
to our present object is the Beautiful in the narrow sense,
as opposed to the Sublime. The characteristic elements of
beauty, as will be seen, are certain sensuous pleasures of the
sight and hearing, coupled with harmonies, and extended by
associations. These incline to, and adopt, tenderness as a kin-
dred quality.
Any very intense pleasure will dispose to tender feeling.
Even the elation of power may show itself in affectionate con-
descension ; and the sentiment of the sublime may be mingled
with what pertains to beauty.
The vocabulary of Tenderness corresponds to these various
sources of emotion.
(1.) Mother, father, sister, brother, son, daughter, child, lover,
husband, wife, home, hearth, friend, country, God, Saviour. (2, 3.)
Good, kind, benevolent, protecting, generous, humane, love, the
heart, fond, devoted, sacrifice, affection, sympathy, pity, compas-
sion, fellow-feeling, disinterestedness. (4.) Pain, agony, torment,
awe, sadness, tears, distress, misery, adversity, calamity, disaster,
trouble, trial, affliction, bitterness, sinking, desolation, bereavement,
fatherless, widow, orphan, wretchedness, tribulation, sorrow, grief,
inconsolable, tragic, pathetic, despairing, doomed, devoted, accursed,
death, the grave, the tomb, the departed. (5.) Pleasure, joy, re-
joicing, delight, charm, happiness, felicity, bliss, transport, glad,
grateful, cordial, genial, heart-felt.
105. With allowance for difference of subject, the
conditions of the employment of language to raise pa-
thetic emotion are the same as for strength. (See p. 89.)
A mere profusion of the phraseology and images of pathos,
102 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
without originality, keeping, or alternation and relief, will fail
to accomplish the end in view. When the language exceeds
the occasion, we have the maudlin and the sentimental, as in
Sterne's episode on the Ass, and not unfrequently in the
speeches of both Sheridan and Burke.
The maudlin is reached by Burke in the following sentence
on the British constitution, a subject which people in general
are unable to regard as an object of affectionate fondness : — "In
this choice of inheritance we have given to our frame of polity
the image of a relation in blood ; binding up the constitution
of our country with our dearest domestic ties; adopting our
fundamental laws into the bosom of owe family affections ; keep-
ing inseparable, and cherishing with the warmth of all their
combined and mutually reflected charities, our state, our hearths,
our sepulchres, and our altars."
In Extract VI., pathos is shown in contrast to tragic
strength on the one hand, and to unredeemed horrors on the
other. The misery that inspires tender feeling must neither
repel nor overwhelm our sympathies.
106. The interest of natural objects is, in many in-
stances, due to their suggesting the tender emotion.
The vastness of the world inspires us with a sense of the
sublime, but there are many objects and situations that touch
us in other ways. The fragile stem indicates weakness ; the
flower on the rock is an image of protection. See, among num-
berless instances, Wordsworth's odes to the Daisy.
" Thou unassuming common place
Of Nature, loith that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace,
Which love makes for thee/"
107. The following are additional examples of Pathos.
" Ye shall seek me in the morning, but I shall not be."
Wolsey's Farewell need only be referred to.
The Clerk's Tale of Griselda in Chaucer, with its incredible
picture of meekness and submission, is replete with pathos.
Griselda's speech to her husband, when about to be cast off,
contains these touching lines : —
EXAMPLES OF PATHOS. 103
" goode God ! how gentle and how kind
Ye seemed by your speech and your visage,
The day that maked was our marriage ! "
Compassion for the oppressed, and for the victims of injus-
tice, is a common form of tenderness.
There is deep pathos in the sense of loneliness, illustrating
the alliance of tender emotion with weakness.
" How can I live without thee ! How forego
Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly join' d,
To live in these wild woods forlorn ! "
The decline of strength with advancing years disposes to
the melting mood.
The circumstances and arts of pathos may be well studied
in Thackeray's picture of Esmond at his mother's grave : —
" Esmond came to this spot in one sunny evening of spring, and
saw, amid a thousand black crosses, casting their shadows across
the grassy mounds, that particular one which marked his mother's
resting-place. Many more of those poor creatures that lay there
had adopted that same name with which sorrow had re-baptized
her, and which fondly seemed to hint their individual story of love
and grief. He fancied her, in tears and darkness, kneeling at the
foot of her cross, under which her carea were buried. Surely he
knelt down, and said his own prayer there, not in sorrow so much
as in awe (for even his memory had no recollection of her) and in
pity for the pangs which the gentle soul in life had been made to
suffer. To this cross she brought them ; for this heavenly bride-
groom she exchanged the husband who had wooed her, the traitor
who had left her. A thousand such hillocks lay round about, the
gentle daisies springing out of the grass over them, and each bear-
ing its cross and requiescat. A nun, veiled in black, was kneeling
hard by, at a sleeping sister's bed-side (so fresh made, that the
spring had scarce had time to spin a coverlid for it) ; beyond the
cemetery walls you had glimpses of life and the world, and the
spires and gables of the city. A bird came down from a roof
opposite, and lit first on a cross, and then on the grass below it,
whence it flew away presently with a leaf in its mouth; then came
a sound as of chanting from the chapel of the sisters hard by ; others
had long since filled the place which poor Mary Madeleine once had
there, were kneeling at the same stall and hearing the same hymns
and prayers in which her stricken heart had found consolation.
Might she sleep in peace — might she sleep in peace ; and we, too,
when our struggles and pains are over! But the earth is the
Lord's, as the heaven is ; we are alike his creatures here and yon-
der. I took a little flower off the hillock and kissed it, and went
my way like the bird that had just lighted on the cross by me,
104: QUALITIES OF STYLE.
back into the world again. Silent receptacle of death ! tranquil
depth of calm, out of reach of tempest and trouble. I felt as one
"who had been walking below the sea, and treading amidst the
bones of shipwrecks."
From the nature of the subject, the Bible abounds with ex-
amples of Pathos, greatly aided by the Saxon style of our
translation.
Every great poetic genius has been able to produce strokes
of pathos ; but in some it is a marked feature. John Paul
Richter is probably unsurpassed. Shakespeare's tenderness is
equal to his sublimity. Chaucer occasionally touches the ten-
der chords ; Spenser still oftener. In recent times Cowper,
Goethe, Burns, Scott, Wilson, Wordsworth, Leigh Hunt, Shel-
ley, have given many examples. It is essential alike to the novel
and to the drama to produce scenes of love and pathos.
THE LUDICROUS— HUMOR— WIT.
108. The Ludicrous and the Laughable are names
for what excites laughter.
Amono: the causes of laughter we mav name abundance of
animal spirits, any sudden accession of pleasure, the special ela-
tion of power and superiority, or an unexpected diversion of the
mind when under excitement.
109. The Ludicrous in composition is for the most
part based on the degradation, direct or indirect, of
some person or interest — something associated with
power, dignity, or gravity. It is farther requisite that
the circumstances of this degradation should not be
such as to produce any other strong emotion, as pity,
anger, or fear.
Comedy took its rise from the jeering and personal vituper-
ation indulged in during the processions in honor of the god
Dionysus, or Bacchus. In the regular comedy, and in every
kind of composition aiming at the laughable, the essential in-
THE LUDICEOCS. 105
gredient is the vilifying and degrading of men or institutions
commanding some degree of veneration or respect.
The pleasure thus afforded is very great, and has a strong
affinity with that feeling of exalted energy entering into the
sublime. To throw down anything from a height is a signal
manifestation of power, and, as such, gratifies the agent and
those that enter into his feelings. Even where the prostration
is not designed by a conscious agent, as when any one tumbles
in the mud, or takes fright at an unexpected appearance, we
experience a degree of enjoyment corresponding to the great-
ness of the effect. When our sympathy is with the object
thrown down, the tendency to laughter is arrested, and some
other feeling takes its place.
The following are examples of this degradation. When
Moliere introduces the celestial messenger of the gods, sitting
tired on a cloud, and complaining of the number of Jupiter's
errands, Night expresses surprise that a god should be weary ;
whereupon Mercury indignantly asks, " Are the gods made of
iron ? " This degradation of divine personages is ludicrous and
delightful to unbelievers. Accordingly, in the decline of Pagan-
ism, the gods came to be a subject of mirth in such composi-
tions as the Dialogues of Lucian.
A Frenchman, disappointed with English cookeiy, ex-
claimed, "Behold a land with sixty religions, and only one
sauce" The putting of religion and sauce upon a level partly
degrades ' religion, but still more degrades the speaker; and
there is a complex effect of the ludicrous.
The hues of Hudibras,
"And, like a lobster boiled, the mom
From black to red began to turn,"
contain an obvious degradation of a dignified subject, although
belonging to the inanimate world. Whatever inspires us with
lofty feelings of admiration or awe can be a subject of ludicrous
prostration, if we are disposed to exult over the fall. We
usually enjoy the laugh at something that we observe other
people respecting, but do not ourselves respect.
The incident of Queen Sophie Charlotte's taking a pinch of
5*
106 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
snuff during the pompous and protracted coronation ceremo-
nial of her husband Friedrich I., of Prussia, is intensely ludi-
crous. The rules of decorum were treated with contempt, and
the splendor of a pageant suddenly dashed by an act suggestive
of ennui.
The Burlesque, the Mock-heroic, Parody, Travesty, Carica-
ture, are modes of composition answering to the general charac-
ter of the ludicrous. Either some elevated object is treated in
a low and vulgar style, or a mean object in the style of things
dignified ; in both cases, there is an effect of degradation.
110. The circumstances of the laughable may vary
between two extremes : —
For the one extreme, we have the pure pleasure of
power shading into malignity, as seen in the laugh
of victory, derision, ridicule, scorn, contumely, con-
tempt.
In composition, this is exemplified in the writings of Swift
and Voltaire, in the letters of Junius, and in the comedies of
Aristophanes. Unmeasured denunciation, abuse, sarcasm, give
this pleasure, provided they do not rouse sympathy towards the
victim.
111. At the other end of the scale, the exultation of
power is disguised by various arts ; and the laugh as-
sumes a genial and kindly character. This is Humor.
We often hear of innocent raillery and harmless jests.
Since degradation must, as a rule, be unpleasant to the per-
son degraded, while it cannot be acceptable to the honest sym-
pathies of men generally, there must be something to redeem
or neutralize the effect.
(1.) It is but raillery, when the degradation attaches to
something that a man does not pride himself upon. We may,
without offence, ridicule the bad handwriting of any one not
pretending to write well.
(2.) A jest may be broken upon a point of character so
unquestionable as to be beyond the reach of depreciation. A
HUMOR. 107
handsome man will allow any slight irregularity or defect to be
laughed at ; not so, he that is really deformed.
(3.) The degradation may be made the occasion of a com-
pliment. An example occurs in De Quincey's criticism on
Kant's style : — " Kant was a great man ; but he was obtuse and
deaf as an antediluvian boulder with regard to language and its
capacities. He has sentences which have been measured by a
carpenter, and some of them run two feet eight by six inches.
Now, a sentence with that enormous span is Jit only for the use
of a megatherium or a pre- Adamite" It is possible to pass off,
by the seasoning of a little jocularity, an amount of adulation
that would be otherwise intolerable.
(4.) An infusion of kindly and tender feeling softens the
harsh effect of ludicrous degradation. Carlyle, in speaking of
John Paul Richter, says, " In Richter's smile itself a touching
pathos lies hidden ; " and he adds, " the essence of humor is sensi-
bility ; warm, tender fellow-feeling with all forms of existence."
This is a widely prevalent, although not the only, mode of con-
verting the ludicrous into humor. It is admirably exemplified
in Don Quixote, whose childish folly is ludicrous, and his chiv-
alrous devotion amiable. The like combination renders Sir
Roger de Coverley a humorous personification. Burns and Sir
Walter Scott exhibit the same kind of humor. We may con-
trast these instances with Swift and Yoltaire, who struck severe
blows, with no palliation of kindliness.
Thus the great masters of pathos are also the greatest
humorists. It should also be noted that a slight touch of the
jocular often enables one to display tender feeling without be-
coming maudlin.
(5.) Jesting at one's own expense is humorous. This is
one mode of sacrificing self for the pleasure of others. Fal-
staff's humor in part consists in surrendering himself as a butt
to his companions. When Sir Hugh Evans, on the eve of his
duel, confesses that he has " a great disposition to cry," he is
highly humorous.
To constitute a genial and good-humored company, it is
essential that each, in his turn, should submit to be laughed at.
108 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
Sydney Smith's remark to the Chapter of St. Paul's, on the
proposal to lay a wooden pavement round the building, — " if
we lay our heads together, the thing is done," — was witty and
humorous. If any one outside had said, " if you lay your heads
together," it would have wanted the humor.
(6.) Humor is reached by combining effects of wit and
poetic beauty with the ludicrous. The pleasure thus arising
is often capable of effectuahV soothing the wounded pride of
the sufferer and his sympathizers. All the great productions
of comic genius might be quoted as examples, and such of
them as have seldom any of the other softening ingredients
yield momentary flashes of geniality from this cause. It is
only thus that either Swift or Voltaire can lay claim to humor;
it is also the principal softening ingredient in Aristophanes.
Chaucer was a great humorist, on several of the grounds
now stated. He did not often derogate from the dignity of
his subjects in a violent or extreme form ; he imparted flatter-
ing and loving touches to his ludicrous depreciation ; and he
could clothe his shafts with delicate wit and poetic imagery
to a degree unsurpassed. His Canterbury Tales abound in
humor. His " Disappearance of the Fairies " is an example of
sarcasm and innuendo invested with the highest beauties of
poetry.
Addison's humor is represented by Thackeray (Lectures on
English Humorists) as depending chiefly on the trivial nature
of the follies ridiculed, and on the lightness of the scourg-
ing hand. It was easy to redeem so gentle an application of
the rod.
112. "Wit may be defined as a combination of ideas,
in the first place, unexpected; secondly, ingenious ; and
thirdly, consisting in a play upon words.
(1.) As regards being unexpected. This is implied in the
terms used in speaking of wit ; as, strokes, sallies, flashes. A
sharp, biting, pungent, racy effect, like that of wit, must be pro-
duced by something sudden and new. Originality or novelty
is indispensable to the highest literary effects.
wit. 109
(2.) The unexpected combination must display ingenuity or
skill, such as gives something to admire. Herein consists what
may be called the interesting and genial element of wit, — the
pleasure of admiration.
(3.) It is a mode of ingenuity consisting in a play upon
words.
The epigram is the purest representative of wit. Next are
innuendo and irony. All the varieties of effect produced by
double meanings, including puns and conundrums, if they pos-
sess the conditions of unexpectedness and ingenuity, are desig-
nated wit.
A striking metaphor is sometimes called witty, because of
its possessing the first two requisites : —
" Bright like the sun her eyes the gazers strike,
And like the sun they shine on all alike."
So, any great ingenuity in turning a figure is admired under
the name of wit. It is remarked by Dry den that, when a poet
describes his mistress's bosom as white as snow, he is at the
utmost poetical ; but, when he proceeds to add " and as cold
too," he becomes witty ! Likewise a double analogy, as in the
retort of Coleridge, during his democratic lectures at Bristol,
to some marks of disapprobation : "lam not at all surprised
that, when the red-hot prejudices of aristocrats are suddenly
plunged into the cool element of reason, they should go off with
a Am."
Thus it is, that any fine effect, bound up more with the
language than with the matter, may receive the praise of wit.
We may apply the name to a stroke of felicitous brevity. A
fop, who possessed fine teeth, and was always grinning in order
to show them, was designated by Horace Walpole as " the gen-
tleman with the foolish teeth."
113. Wit, although distinct from the ludicrous, is
frequently found in combination with it.
We have seen that wit can convert the ludicrous into hu-
mor. It being not always permissible to degrade a person or
thing by open vituperation or depreciatory adjuncts, some dis-
110 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
guise or redeeming ingenuity is sought out, and the forms of
wit are well adapted for the purpose. An anecdote related by-
Lord Bacon is an apt illustration. " Mr. Popham, afterwards
Lord Chief Justice Popham, when he was Speaker, and the
House of Commons had sat long, and done in effect nothing,
coming one day to Queen Elizabeth, she said to him, ' Now,
Mr. Speaker, what hath passed in the Commons' House ? ' He
answered, ' If it please your majesty, seven weeks.'' " Without
this play upon words, the Speaker could not have dared to re-
proach the House for their proceedings.
The witticisms that convey depreciation are probably more
numerous than all others put together. Jerrold's ingenuity
took this form in almost every instance. Thus, when some one
said that a certain musical air " had quite carried him away"
Jerrold looked round the company and asked, " Is there no one
here that can whistle it ? "
MELODY.
114. The Melody, Harmony, or Music, of language
involves both the action of the voice, and the sense of
hearing.
What is hard to pronounce is not only disagreeable in the
act of pronouncing, but also disagreeable to hear ; for in listen-
ing to speech, we cannot help having present to our mind the way
that the words would affect our organs if we had to utter them
ourselves. Even in reading without utterance aloud, we have
a sense of the articulate flow to the voice and to the ear.
115. If we regard the sounds of the letters individ-
ually, we shall find, as a rule, that the abrupt consonants
are the hardest to pronounce, and the vowels the easiest.
The letters, p, t, k, are the most abrupt of all ; next are
their aspirated forms/, th (as in thin), h ; these are called sharp
mutes. The corresponding flat mutes are b, v — d, th (as in
thine) — g. These last allow a certain continuance of the voice,
EASE OF PRONUNCIATION. Ill
and are pronounced with less effort. Thus, above is easier than
puff ; go thou than cut.
The liquids, r, I, m, n, ng, and the sibilants, s, sh, z, zh, all
represent continuous sounds, approaching in this respect to the
vowels ; while w and y are a kind of consonant vowels. There
is no abruptness in rain, loom, sing, shame, leisure. The Greek
and Roman languages (particularly the Greek) showed a prefer-
ence for the flat mutes, the liquids, and the sibilants ; and, for
the most part, softened the sharp mutes, especially p, t, k, by
combination with the more flowing letters, as clepsydra, pru-
rient. We have the benefit of this in English, owing to the
great number of words adopted by us from the classics.
116. The abrupt consonants are easiest in alternation
with vowels, and especially long vowels; as, appear,
Attica, I go to put a cabbage apart, I took a ticket
above.
In these cases, the transition of the voice from consonant to
vowel is easy : with the other class of consonants, it is less easy ;
as, elimination, clamminess, azure. Hence there is a character-
istic lightness and rapidity in the alternation of mutes with
vowels, while the other combination yields a slow and soft
melody.
117. A sharp and a flat mute cannot be easily sounded
together ; as, up, by, eke, go.
In the flat mutes, there is an accompanying vocal sound
from the larynx, which it takes a certain time to commence.
Even an intervening vowel, if short, does not suffice to make
the pronunciation easy, as may be seen in pah, keg, ted. A long
vowel, or a combined liquid or sibilant, will remove the diffi-
culty, as in toad, pobe, trod.
118. The cumulation of consonants makes difficulty
of pronunciation ; which is aggravated when they do
not coalesce, and when the vowels are short and em-
phatic. Thus the words pledged, adjudged, struggled,
scratched, strengthened, disrespect, fifthly , are harsh.
112 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
The lightest and most agreeable words are those that alter-
nate vowels and consonants, or vowels and easy combinations
of consonants. Such are celerity, fertility, intimidation.
119. The alternation of vowel and consonant makes
the succession of words more agreeable ; as, a lovely boy,
a good intention.
The change of the indefinite article into a before a conso-
nant sound is in accordance with this principle.
When the same consonant sound ends one word and begins
the next, the effect is unpleasant ; as, keep people, brief fate,
hear right, come more, gone now, dress soon, tax Xerxes. It is
difficult to make a pause, and go back upon the same letter.
If the consonants differ somewhat, the effort is easier ; as, brief
petition, let there, cut down, comes soft. A liquid and a mute,
or two liquids (not the same), are pronounced without difficulty ;
as, rare doings, come bach, calm retreat.
120. It is desirable to avoid the clash of vowels, both
in the middle of words and between one word and
another ; as in idea, hiatus, re-assume, you unite, potato
only.
Many persons never say idea of, but idear of.
In the clash of vowels, it is better that one should be short
and the other long, or one emphatic and the other not ; as, go
on, the ear. When the precedes an unemphatic syllable, we are
obliged to make it emphatic, the endeavor. If the vowels are
different, the pronunciation is easier ; lively oracles, pity us,
blew over.
121. Long vowels out of accent are somewhat hard
to pronounce ; as, u in contribute, ow in follow, a in
reprobate.
Some words allow more time for these vowels ; as, moun-
taineer, uswal.
122. It contributes to the melody of language,
MELODY. 113
avoid the too frequent repetition of the same letters,
whether consonants or vowels.
Our language maybe said to contain 23 consonants, and 15
vowels in accent, with unaccented vowels, and diphthongs. A
writer aiming at melody will endeavor, instead of repeating the
same letters, whether vowels or consonants, to ring the changes
throughout the entire alphabet. In the first stanza of Gray's
Elegy, nearly all the vowels are introduced.
The commencing of successive words with the same letter,
or syllable, is called Alliteration, and is objectionable, unless
done on a regular plan, as in balanced composition and in some
kinds of poetry. Long live Lewis, come conqueror, are bad
alliterations. It is still worse when the similarity extends to
syllables, as convenient contrivance. The same remark applies
to iterations at the end or in the middle of words. All such
as the following are inharmonious : indulgent parent, instead of
a steady, uniform formality.
Even a short interval is not enough to allow the repetition
of very marked sounds ; as, " I confess with humility, the ster-
ility of my fancy, and the debility of my judgment," " What
is of more importance, the principles being propounded with
reverc?zce, had an influence on the subsequent jurisprudence."
The endings ion, ing, ity,-nce, and ed, often occur too close
for melody. As regards the verb-ending ed, the irregular verbs
afford an important means of variety ; " givc?i and received ; "
" I came, I saw, I conquered."
123. In the succession of syllables, the same regard
should be paid to ease of pronunciation, and the avoid-
ance of monotony.
(1.) As the words of our language usually have but one ac-
cented syllable, words of many syllables are apt to be difficult
of pronunciation. Hence we avoid lengthening words with
numerous prefixes or terminations ; unsuccessfulncss, peremp-
toriness, wrongheadedness, are objectionable in this respect.
(2.) Words containing a succession of unaccented short
vowels are a trial to the voice ; as, primarily, cursorily, sum-
114 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
marily. Still worse is the repetition of the same letter or
syllable ; as in farriery, lowlily.
(3.) A due alternation of long and short, of accented and
unaccented, syllables, is an essential condition of melody. This
is one part of English versification ; and, although prose allows
a greater latitude, yet the principle has to be attended to. The
Shakespearian line, " The pomp and circumstance of glorious
war," is a perfect alternation, besides being melodious through
the variety of the letters and the nature of the closing
syllable.
It is from the want of this due alternation that a series of
monosyllables is usually objectionable : as, " Good Lord, give
us bread now ; " where, except us, every word is emphatic,
rendering the pronunciation heavy. If, however, there be an
even distribution of uncmphatic words, the bad effect does not
arise. " Bless the Lord of hosts, for he is good to us," is not
inharmonious ; every second word is unaccented. So in Mac-
beth :—
" Stars, hide your fires,
Let not light see my black and deep desires,
The eye wink at the hand. Yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see."
In ordinary cases, melody arises through the alternation of
long and short words. A succession of long words is seldom
melodious.
(4.) Even difficult and harsh combinations of letters may
be brought in as an agreeable variety, after a succession of
smooth and liquid sounds. Monotony in sweetness is the most
painful of all.
124. The closing syllables of a sentence should allow
the voice to fall by degrees.
(1.) This will happen if the concluding syllable is long and
ends in a continuing consonant ; as, appear, disgrace. A short
vowel is admissible when the consonants give scope for the
voice to die away ; as, defend, mischance, world.
(2.) The other method is to close with one or more unem-
phatic syllables ; as, blessing, liberty.
VARIETY ESSENTIAL TO MELODY. 115
Very long words do not make a melodious close ; as, in-
timida tion, irresistible.
The worst kind of ending is a syllable short, emphatic, and
abrupt ; as, " He came up." A monosyllable is not necessarily
a bad close. It may be unemphatic, as often happens with the
pronoun it, and with the prepositions of, to, for, &c. : or it may
have liquid or other consonants that protract the sound ; as,
ease, same, shine.
Even an abrupt close may be pleasing in alternation with
others.
The present rule applies with greatest force to the close of
a paragraph.
125. The principle of variety, or alternation, applies
to Clauses, to Sentences, and to Composition throughout.
Melody forbids a succession of clauses of one cadence or ar-
rangement. The structure and length of sentences should be
varied, subject to the more important considerations of meaning
and force in the matter.
Let us consider some farther examples of the foregoing
principles.
Johnson says, " Tediousness is the most fatal of all faults."
The stiffness of this sentence is felt at once. On examination,
we note : 1st, The want of melody in the word tediousness, from
the crowd of consonants, and the iteration of s. 2nd, The ad-
ditional hissing consonant in is (although the hard sound z).
3rd, The occurrence of four unemphatic syllables in succession ;
namely, the last two in tediousness, and is the. 4th, The addi-
tional s in most. 5th, The concurrence of consonants at the
end of most, and the beginning of fatal ; this cannot always be
avoided. 6th, The alliterations, fata£ aZZ,/atal /aults, all faults,
make the last few words singularly unmelodious.
" The men that gave their country liberty," is melodious
from the variety of the vowels and consonants, and from the
suitable fall, although the combination that gave is somewhat
heavy, and there is an alliteration in the last two words.
" They often save, and always illustrate, the age and nation
116 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
in which they appear," is a good example of prose melody from
the alternation of accented and unaccented syllables ; it departs
from the strict regularity of verse, and yet secures an easy move-
ment. There is also great variety in the sounds, and an unusual
avoidance of the clash of consonant with consonant, or of vowel
with vowel, in the succession of the words.
The following sentence violates nearly all the rules : — " Proud
and vain-glorious, swelled with lofty anticipations of his des-
tiny, no danger could appal and no toil could tire him."
There are many admired passages, in which almost the
whole beauty lies in the melody of the words. This we may
see in Campbell's opening stanza of the Battle of Copenha-
gen :—
" Of Nelson and the North,
Sing the glorious day's renown,
When to battle fierce came forth
All the might of Denmark's crown."
Such passages, with nothing strikingly original either in
thought or in language, are sometimes spoken of as admirable in
their simplicity ; the fact being that the poet has been able to
bring out a richly melodious effect by his mode of putting
together a few familiar expressions. Milton's phrase, " the old
man eloquent," is a happy stroke of mere arrangement, and is
both melodious and original.
HARMONY OF SOUND AND SENSE.
126. This is a sj)ecial instance of the effect that more
than any other pervades compositions of Fine Art — the
harmony of the different parts.
In language, it is occasionally possible to make the
sound an echo to the sense, thereby assisting the mean-
ing and heightening the pleasure.
127. The effect is most obvious and easy, when sounds
are the subject-matter.
"Words, being themselves sounds, can imitate sounds. Our
SOUND AXD SENSE. 117
language (as well as others) contains many examples of imita-
tive names ; as, whizz, buzz, burr, hiss, crash, racket, whistle.
The imitation can be extended in a succession of words.
Homer's line, in the beginning of the Iliad, describing the sea,
is celebrated as an instance. The " hoarse Trinacrian shore "
is a similar attempt, one of many in Milton. The grating noise
of the opening of hell's gates is described thus : —
" On a sudden, open fly,
With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound,
Th' infernal doors ; and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder."
Contrast the opening of heaven's doors : —
" Heaven opened wide
Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound,
On golden hinges turning."
Discordant sounds are effectively described in the line from
Lycidas, " Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw."
The sounds of a battle in former times are represented by
the lanoniao-e thus : —
o o
"Arms on armor clashing, bray'd
Horrible discord ; and the madding wheel3
Of brazen chariots raged."
The following is from Byron : —
" I love the language, that soft bastard Latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth,
And sounds as if it should be writ on satin,
With syllables that breathe of the siccet south,
And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in,
That not a single accent seems uncouth,
Like our harsh, northern, whistling, grunting, guttural,
Which we're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all."
128. Motion, also, can be imitated. Here there is a
rrmch wider scope for the adaptation of the sound to the
sense.
A series of long syllables, or of words under accent, with
the frequent occurrence of the voice-prolonging consonants,
being necessarily slow to pronounce, is appropriate to the de-
scription of slow and labored movements. As in Pope's couplet
on the Iliad : —
118 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
" "When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,
The line too labors, and the words move slow."
Of the ten syllables in the first line, only two, when, to, can
be rapidly pronounced ; all the rest, for some reason or other,
detain the voice. In the second, the two tke's are the only
short syllables.
The opposite arrangement, that is to say, an abundance of
short and unaccented syllables, and the more abrupt conso-
nants alternated with vowels, by making the pronunciation rapid,
light, and easy, corresponds to quickness of motion in the sub-
ject ; as in the lines,
"Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main."
These lines by no means illustrate the most rapid combi-
nations of letters ; there being a preponderance of liquids and
sibilants, which detain the voice more than the mute conso-
nants.
The lines in the Odyssey describing Sisyphus are an ad-
mired example in the Greek, and the effect is aimed at by the
English translators : —
" With many a weary step, and many a groan,
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone ;
The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground."
Up to the middle of the third line, w r e have the slow labo-
rious motion ; then the change to the rapid and impetuous
descent.
Besides marking the difference of quick and slow, the lan-
guage may indicate various modes of motion, as in the expres-
sion " Troy's turrets tottered," where there is a sort of resem-
blance to the vibratory action of a building about to tumble.
In many passages, the effect combines sound and motion ;
as, " Tumbling all precipitate down dashed."
So in Pope's famous lines : —
" If nature thundered in our opening ears,
And stunned us with the music of the spheres."
The word stunned, by its short emphasis, well expresses the
effect of a stunning blow.
SOUND AKD SENSE. 119
Obstructed movement is readily imitated by the march of
the language, as in the second of the lines on Sisyphus.
It is to be remarked, however, that the representation of
pain and difficulty, by uncouth and hard combinations of letters
and words, is an attempt that is exceptional, and ought to be
rarely made. Pain, as such, must be avoided in art ; even in a
painful subject, the handling must supply a redeeming amount
of pleasure.
129. Huge unwieldy bulk implies slowness of move-
ment, and may be expressed by similar language : —
" O'er all the dreary coasts
So stretched out, huge in length, the arch-fiend lay."
" But ended foul in many a scaly fold
Voluminous and vast.''''
130. In the natural expression of the feelings or pas-
sions, there are characteristic sounds and movements, to
which articulate language can adapt itself.
This suitability is one of the effects brought out in Milton's
counterpart odes, L' Allegro and II Penseroso. The cheerful
emotions have a lively movement, while melancholy is slow and
drawling.
In poetry, different measures are adapted to different pas-
sions. This power of numbers is fully shown in the Ode on
Alexander's Feast.
The Iambic strain in blank verse, and in the ten line couplet,
is suited to dignity and grandeur, as in the Epic. The Trochaic
measure is frolicsome and gay. The Ariapa?st expresses, says
Campbell, on the one hand, ease and familiarity, and, on the
other, hurry, confusion, and precipitation.
The tender and pathetic emotion is represented by a slow,
gentle melody. The languishing reluctance of the spirit to
quit the earth is finely expressed in the march of Gray's stanza
beginning, " For w T ho to dumb forgetfulness a prey," &c
It is thought by many that, in the origin of words, we may
largely trace the process of imitation, or the suiting of the sound
120 QUALITIES OF STYLE.
to the sense. See, in particular, Wedgwood on the Origin of
Language, and Farrar on Language.
The name Onomatopoeia was anciently applied to the imita-
tive process.
TASTE— ELEGANCE— POLISH— REFINEMENT.
131. The word Taste, employed with reference to
Fine Art, means, in the first instance, the susceptibility
to pleasure from works of art. A person devoid of this
enjoyment is said to have no taste.
There is a further use of the word, to denote the kind
of artistic excellence that gives the greatest amount of
pleasure to cultivated minds. Such minds are said to
have taste, and others to want it. The words " ele-
gance," " polish," " refinement," designate nearly the
same thing. The distinction is sometimes expressed by
the epithet " good taste," implying that taste may be
bad, or enjoyment misplaced, in the judgment of those
that claim to arbitrate between the two.
It being the end of Rhetoric, as a whole, to consider
the various points of excellence in composition, the at-
tention to these must be synonymous with good taste.
In regard to Taste, there is a permanent element and a
variable element.
I. The permanent element comprises all the rules of compo-
sition, grounded on the admitted laws of our sensibility, and
generally followed by' the best speakers and writers. To avoid
discords, to use bold figures sparingly, to set bounds to ex-
aggeration, to admit painful effects only so far as they can be
redeemed, — are rules of Taste, as being rules of Rhetoric.
Refinement in Taste consists partly in enhancing the pleas-
ure of works of art, by the removal of what pains, and the
addition of what pleases, the proper artistic sensibility ; and
partly in avoiding the tendencies of art compositions to in-
fringe on truth, usefulness, humane sentiment, and morality.
TASTE. 121
II. The variable element includes the points on which men
do not feel alike. Ages, countries, and individuals, differ in
their sense of what is excellent in composition.
Thus, as regards age and country : — The taste of the Greeks,
reverentially accepted in many things by after ages, allowed to
orators and poets a license of persoual vituperation that would
now be condemned. Again, nothing has varied so much in
different times as the mode of representing the passion of love ;
allusions forbidden by the taste of our day were permitted in
former times.
As an example of change of taste, compare the ancient
rules of Tragedy (adhered to in the French stage), which forbid
the introduction of comic scenes, with the English practice in
that respect. " It was Dryden's opinion, at least for some time,
and he maintains it in the dedication to this play [The Spanish
Frijar), that the drama required an alternation of comic and
tragic scenes ; and that it is necessary to mitigate by allevia-
tions of merriment the pressure of ponderous events, and the
fatigue of toilsome passions. ' Whoever,' says he, ' cannot per-
form both parts, is but half a writer for the stage. 1 " (Johnson's
Life of Dryden.)
Taste is also a matter of personal peculiarity ; varying with
the emotional constitution, the intellectual tendencies, and the
education of each individual. A person of strong tender feel-
ings is not easily offended by the iteration of pathetic images ;
the sense of the ludicrous and of humor is in many cases en-
tirely wanting ; and the strength of humane and moral senti-
ment may be such as to recoil from inflicting ludicrous degra-
dation. A mind bent on the pursuit of truth views with dis-
taste the exaggerations of the poetic art. Each person is by
education more attached to one school or class of writers than
to another.
122 THE SENTENCE.
CHAPTER V.
THE SENTENCE AND THE PARAGRAPH.
THE SENTENCE.
132. The rules of Syntax apply to the concord, the
government, and the arrangement of words m sentences.
Under the head of Arrangement, it is laid down that
qualifying words should be placed near the words they
qualify, a rule having clearness expressly in view.
A sentence in any way ungrammatical incurs the risk of
being obscure, if not a perversion of the meaning ; more espe-
cially in cases where the rules of syntax are violated, where the
pronouns, conjunctions, and prepositions are not correctly in-
troduced, and where the different parts of the verb are misap-
plied.
In the present work, under the Number of Words (p. 67),
and under the Arrangement of Words (p. 65), principles were
brought forward having reference to the structure of the sen-
tence.
133. In a rhetorical view, sentences are divided into
various classes.
I. A distinction is made between the Period and the
Loose Sentence. In a Period, the meaning is suspended
until the close.
The first sentence of Paradise Lost, if stopped at Heavenly
muse, would be a period; short of that point, no complete
meaning is given. Continued as it is to line 16 in prose or
rhyme, it is loose ; there being several places where the reader
might pause without incompleteness.
The following is another example : — " Shaftesbury's strength
lay in reasoning and sentiment, more than in description ; how-
ever much his descriptions have been admired ! " In this sen-
PEKIODS LOOSE SENTENCES. 123
tence, we might stop (1) at reasoning, (2) at sentiment, (3) at
description, where, at all events, we should expect a final con-
clusion ; to our surprise, a conditional clause is still to be
added. On the general principle of placing qualifying state-
ments before the parts qualified, the sentence should be in-
verted thus : — " However much Shaftesbury's descriptions have
been admired, his strength lay not in description, but in rea-
soning and sentiment."
" It cannot be too deeply impressed on the mind, that ap-
plication is the price to be paid for mental acquisitions, and
that it is as absurd to expect them without it as to hope for a
harvest where we have not sown the seed." A sentence of this
character is rendered periodic, by reserving the predicate —
" cannot be too deeply impressed on the mind" — to the last;
but there is often an advantage in availing ourselves of the con-
struction with "it is," to commence with the predicate. If
the clause " that application .... acquisitions " were
omitted, the sentence would be a good specimen of a period ;
the next clause being kept in suspense by the use of the correl-
atives as — as, and by the adverb where.
The next example brings into view other connectives
whereby the meaning is suspended : — " But on this topic they
are either silent, or speak with such uncertain utterance thai
they might have as well been dumb. A few slight changes
would make it loose ; " they are silent | , or else speak with
uncertain utterance | , so that they might have been dumb |
as well." Compare also, " He speaks so clearly as to be always
understood ; " with, " He speaks clearly | , so as to be always
understood."
To take another instance. " On the whole, while the Essay
on Criticism (Pope's) may be readily allowed to be superior in
execution, as it certainly is in compass, to any work of a sim-
ilar nature in English poetry, it can hardly be said either to re-
deem the class of didactic poems on aesthetics from the neglect
into which they have fallen, or to make us regret that the criti-
cal ability of cur own day should prefer to follow the path
marked out by Dryden, when he chose to discourse of poetry
124 THE SENTENCE.
in his own vigorous and flexible prose." The last clause, when
he chose, &c, is not essential to the completeness, and the sen-
tence is therefore loose.
The loose sentence must be of frequent occurrence ; our lan-
guage not permitting the inversions requisite for the constant
practice of suspending the sense. Even when a meaning is
grammatically complete, we are often aware that something has
yet to be added to explain or qualify what has been said, and
we still keep up the attitude of expectation. In the sentence,
" The mature man, in the desire to get quit of an early habit,
attempts an imitation | , in which he is prevented from suc :
ceeding | by the lasting consequences of the unintentional imi-
tation | into which he had glided when a child," there are
several places where we might close with an intelligible sense,
but we feel that the writer will still add something to make his
meaning more definite and clear.
In the following, the stoppage might occur at a great many
points, yet the sentence is not viciously loose, because the addi-
tions, although they could be dispensed with, chime in to ad-
vantage with what went before : " The only light of every truth
is its contrasting error | ; and, therefore, in the contemplation
and exhibition of truth, a philosopher should take especial care
not to keep himself too loftily aloof from the contemplation and
exhibition of error | , as these proud spirits Plato, Spinoza,
Leibnitz,, and Hegel, most undoubtedly did | , much to the
detriment of their own profound disquisitions | , and to the loss
of mankind | , who, had their method been different, might
have profited more largely by their wisdom ! " The last clause
but one "had their method been different" could have been
placed at the end, which would have added to the looseness.
134. The participial construction is one of the hinges
of the period.
This is one of the advantages accruing from the participle.
The following period would be a very loose sentence, but for
the suspension arising out of the participial clause. " Accustomed
to a land at home where every height, seen dimly in the dis-
SHORT AND LONG SENTENCES. 125
tance, might prove a cathedral tower, a church spire, a pil-
grim's oratory, or at least a way-side cross, these religious ex-
plorers must have often strained their sight in order to recog-
nize some object of a similar character."
135. The periodic form, while keeping up the at-
tention and being a collateral security for the right
placing of qualifying words, is favorable to Unity in
sentences.
This will be illustrated afterwards. In the meantime, the
examples quoted will show that, in the loose sentence, the ad-
ditions tacked on may readily lapse into digressions.
It is desirable, in some measure, to counteract the tendency
of our language to the loose sentence, by interspersing periods
on all suitable occasions.
136. II. Sentences are divided into Short and Bono-
o*
Among the points of mere variety in style, is the length of
the sentence. Irrespective of this, each kind has its advan-
tages. The short sentence is the easier to understand ; the
long, besides affording more room to expand the sense, may
admit of an oratorical cadence and be graduated to a climax.
It is in the long sentence principally that we encounter the
faults of intricacy, prolixity, ambiguity, and vagueness.
Short sentences, unvaried by long, have an abrupt effect in
prose, and are still more unsuited to poetry.
For example : — « Antony has done his part. He holds the
gorgeous East in fee. He has revenged Crassus. He will make
kings, though he be none. He is amusing himself, and Rome
must bear with him. He has his griefs as well as Caesar. Let
the sword settle their disputes. But he is no longer the man
to leave Cleopatra behind. She sails with him, and his coun-
trymen proclaim how low he has fallen."
137. III. The Balanced Sentence. When the dif-
ferent clauses of a compound sentence arc made similar
in form, they are said to be Balanced.
The style of Johnson abounds in this arrangement : — " Con-
126 THE SENTENCE.
tempt is the proper punishment of affectation, and detestation
the just consequence of hypocrisy." " He remits his splendor,
but retains his magnitude ; and pleases more, though he dazzles
less."
Junius affords numerous instances : — " But, my lord, you
may quit the field of business, though not the field of danger ;
and, though you cannot be safe, you may cease to be ridiculous."
" They are still base enough to encourage the follies of your age,
as they once did the vices of your youth." " Even now they
tell you, that as you lived without virtue you should die with-
out repentance."
It will be seen that the sameness in these balanced clauses
lies partly in the grammatical structure, and partly in the sound,
or alternation of emphasis. The meaning is different, and the
words are more or less varied.
138. When a succession of clauses is formed upon
the same plan, a certain aid is given to the memory.
The repetition impresses the mind, and when we have learnt
what is common to the several statements, we need only attend
to the points of difference.
It was a rule given under Clearness that things compared
should have corresponding places in the composition. Balance
is a means of securing this. The following is an example from
Chatham : — " In short, Sir, as I could at first see no reason for
sending our troops to Flanders, unless it was to furnish ministers
with a pretext to load us with the maintenance of 16,000 Hano-
verians, so I now see no reason for our retaining them there,
unless it be to afford a pretext for continuing that load."
139. A further effect of the balanced structure is to
cause an agreeable surprise.
Sameness of form in difference of matter communicates a
pleasurable impression. This is part of our enjoyment of verse.
In passing from one statement to another, we are prepared for
a change, not merely in the words, but in the grammatical
structure and cadence. When we find that successive mean-
THE BALANCED SENTENCE. 127
ings can be expressed in exactly the same form of grammar,
with the same sonnd on the ear, we are affected with some de-
gree of surprise, while also enjoying the pleasure of harmony.
140. When a new and distinct meaning can be con-
veyed in nearly the same wards, onr feeling of surprise
is all the greater.
In the sentence, " this is true but not new, that is new but
not true," there is a double application of the balance. First,
the sameness of sound in the contrasted terms true and new ;
and, secondly, the employment of the identical terms, with a
mere transposition, to convey a new meaning.
" What is Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba ? " is an exam-
ple to the same purpose. " A juggler is a wit in things, and a
wit a juggler in words," is an ingenious combination of simile
and balance, to illustrate the real nature of wit.
A good example, containing a profound truth, is furnished
by Coleridge : — " When we meet an apparent error in a good
author, we are to presume ourselves ignorant of his understand-
ing, until we are certain that we understand his ignorance."
Senior says : — " Charity creates much of the misery it re-
lieves, but does not relieve all the misery it creates."
Napoleon described the tactics of war, as "the art of being
strongest on a given point at a given time."
141. The balanced structure is frequently combined
with antithesis, or contrast.
" In peace, children bury their parents ; in war, parents
bury their children.'''' Here the members are balanced, and are
also made to convey antithetical or opposed meanings. This
addition enhances the effect of the balance.
" If you wish to enrich a person, study not to increase his
stores, but to diminish his desires." " Words are the counters
of wise men, and the money of fools." " The laughter will be
for those that have most wit, the serious for those that have
most reason."
142. The purest form of antithesis is the obverse
128 THE SENTENCE.
iteration, in which character we often find it accom-
panied with balance.
In an obverse proposition, the equivalent fact is stated from
the opposite side ; " heat relaxes the system ; cold braces it."
" Light cheers ; darkness depresses." The following from
Bacon combines this form of antithesis with the balance.
" Prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity doth best
discover virtue." " To buy in the cheapest market, and sell in
the dearest."
The style of the Proverbs of Solomon abounds in obverse
iteration (see chap. xii. xiii.) ; and the iterated statements are
more or less balanced.
143. Sometimes the contrast of the balanced mem-
bers is a species of epigram.
As, " when reason is against a man, he will be against rea-
son." This is the epigram of the obverse identical proposition.
" Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more," is
another of the same. " He should consider often, who can
choose but once" is a kind of epigram turning on the oppo-
sition of often and once.
The following have the full point of the epigram, together
with balance : —
" Frequently we are understood least by those that have
known us longest." *' High life below stairs." " He can buy
but he cannot gain, he can bribe but he cannot seduce, he can
lie but he cannot deceive."
Helps quotes from Southey the balanced and sarcastic in-
nuendo, " as if a number of worldlings made a world."
144. The contrast may amount only to the pointed
expression of difference, without opposition.
In this case also, the balance is often carried out with great
elaboration, as in Pope's -comparison of Homer and Virgil, and
the analogous contrast of Dryden and Pope by Johnson.
" Homer was the greater genius, Virgil the better artist : in
the one, we most admire the man ; m the other, the work."
THE CONDENSED SENTENCE. 129
u Though deep yet clear, though gentle yet not dull ;
Calm without rage, icithout o'erflowing full."
145. Merely to keep up the same leading term,
under change of meaning, has the effect of the balance ;
as, ''Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain
mercy.'''
'- And Rome mar bear the pride of him
Of whom herself is proud."
Bent-ham's celebrated expression of the end of politics and
of morality, — " the greatest happiness of the greatest number,"
— is balanced in sound, in grammar, and in the recurrence of
the word greatest.
" The right man in the right place."
The poet is " dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of
scorn, the love of love." (Tennyson.)
" Man desires not only to be loved, but to be lovely."
u Man proposes, God disposes," is a balance in the termina-
tion of the balanced words. Also, "Cleanliness is next to o-od-
liness."
" Chronic diseases must have chronic cures."
146. IY. The Condensed Sentence. This is a sen-
tence abbreviated by a forced and unusual construction.
Sometimes we find the same verb applied to incongruous
objects, as in the expression M separated by mountains and bv
mutual fear." " Brutus instituted liberty and the consulship.'"
An ordinary writer would have used two verbs to suit these
different objects ; " Brutus obtained freedom for the State, and
instituted the consulship."
Gibbon (who delights in these condensations) describes
Spain as " exhausted by the abuse of her strength, by America,
and by superstition." Again : " The system of Augustus was
adopted by the fears and the vices of his successors." " The
Caledonians were indebted for their independence to their
poverty no less than to their valor.''' u Of the nineteen tyrants
who started up under the reign of Gallienus, there w r as not one
who enjoyed a life of peace or a natural death."
6*
130 THE SENTENCE.
There is an artificial condensation in the line of Pope,
" Nature and Homer were, he found, the same."
Such constructions as the following are admissible occa-
sionally : —
"After a war of about forty years, undertaken by the most
stupid, maintained by the most dissolute, and terminated by the
most timid of all the emperors, the far greater part of the island
(Britain) submitted to the Roman yoke."
" The Danes appeared next year off the eastern coast, in hopes
of subduing a people, who defended themselves by their money,
which invited assailants, instead of their arms, which repelled
them." (Hume.)
" This conduct of the court, which, in all its circumstances, is
so barbarous, imprudent, and weak, both merited and prognosticated
the most grievous calamities." (lb.)
147. The Condensed Sentence is sometimes used for
comic effect.
" Here thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea."
" To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite."
The following sentence from Macaulay on the visit of Peter
the Great to England is a telling satire. " The Russian gran-
dees in London came to the court dropping pearls and vermin."
148. The profuse employment of the Balanced Sen-
tence, in conjunction with antithesis, epigram, and
climax, determines the Pointed Style.
This combination is seen in Pope, Junius, and in a less de-
gree in many others. It is also termed the " Epigrammatic "
style. The French excel in epigram and point. The excess of
this quality in Tacitus, Lucan, and Seneca, is usually identified
with the decline of the Latin language. — It is the nature of all
artifices that call attention to the form of the language, after a
time to become fatiguing ; the more pungent an effect is, the
more sparing should be its introduction.
149. Whatever be the subject, or the kind of com-
position, there are certain things to be attended to in
the structure of the sentence.
PLACE OF THE PRINCIPAL SUBJECT. 131
When we come to treat of the various kinds of composition,
we shall find their several peculiarities occasionally impressing
a special character on the structure of the sentence ; but we are
now to consider the laws that are generally binding. Campbell,
in the Philosophy of Rhetoric, observes, with reference to the
sentence, " The only rule wdiich will never fail, is to beware of
prolixity and of intricacy." Prolixity means overcrowding ;
intricacy arises w r hen it is not easy to ascertain the relation of
one member to another, or when there is a degree of compli-
cation amounting to the unintelligible.
150. I. The Principal Subject of a sentence should
occupy a conspicuous position. This may be : —
(1.) In the beginning. " Learning taketh away the
wildness, barbarism, and fierceness of men's minds."
This sentence occurs in Goldsmith : " Nature, with most
beneficent intention, conciliates and forms the mind of man to
his condition." Here the principal subject (as the context
shows) is not nature, but the mind of man ; accordingly, the
preferable arrangement is, " The mind of man is, by Nature's
beneficent intention, conciliated and formed to its condition."
To quote another example : — " Homer's beautiful descrip-
tion of the heavens, as they appear in a calm evening by the
light of the moon and stars, concludes with this circumstance —
1 and the heart of the shepherd is glad.' Madame Dacier, from
the turn she gives to the passage in her version, seems to think,
and Pope, in order to make out his couplet, insinuates, that the
gladness of the shepherd is owing to his sense of the utility of
those luminaries." Now, in the second sentence, the prominence
is given, not to the main theme of the sentence, which is the
gladness of the shepherd, but to Madame Dacier and Pope.
The desirable order w 7 ould be : " The gladness of the shepherd
seems to be attributed by Madame Dacier, from the turn she
gives to the passage, and by Pope, in order perhaps to make
out his couplet, to the sense of the utility of these luminaries."
" The State was made, under the pretence of serving it, in
reality, the prize of their contention, to each of those opposite
132 THE SENTENCE.
parties, who professed in specious terms, the one a preference
for moderate Aristocracy, the other a desire of admitting the
people at large to an equality of civil privileges." As amended
by Whately, the sentence runs thus : " The two opposite parties,
who professed, in specious terms, the one a preference for mod-
erate Aristocracy, the other a desire of admitting the people at
large to an equality of civil privileges, made the State, which
they pretended to serve, in reality the prize of their contention."
The improvement is manifest. The two opposite parties is now
made prominent at the beginning of the sentence, as its subject ;
the leading idea that they made the State the prize of their
contention is placed at the end as the principal part of the pred-
icate ; and the structure is rendered periodic.
Again : " It is not without a degree of patient attention,
greater than the generality are willing to bestow, though not
greater than the object deserves, that the habit can be acquired
of examining and judging of our own conduct with the same
accuracy and impartiality as that of another." Altered thus
(by Whately) : " The habit of examining our own conduct as
accurately as that of another, and judging of it with the same
impartiality, cannot be acquired without a degree of patient at-
tention, not greater indeed than the object deserves, but greater
than the generality are willing to bestow." The change con-
sists in beginning with the principal subject. The sentence
is unavoidably loose ; any attempt to suspend the sense by
throwing the verb acquired to the end would probably cause,
in the shape of artificial inversion, a worse evil than the
looseness.
151. (2.) After an adverbial phrase, or clause, or some
statement evidently subsidiary.
The prominence of the principal subject is not affected by
qualifying phrases or clauses that are manifestly such. " In
the vacant space between Persia, Syria, Egypt, and Ethiopia, the
Arabian peninsula may be conceived as a triangle of spacious
but irregular dimensions."
The sentence : " A dozen will do, for illustration, as well as
POSITION OF BIPOETAXT WORDS. 133
a million," is more effective thus : — " For illustration, a dozen
will do as well as a million."
A passage already quoted (§ 134) as an example of the
period, " Accustomed to a land," &c, shows also that the prin-
cipal subject may follow a participial clause.
152. (3.) At the end. The close of a sentence gives
prominence no less than the beginning.
The subject of the sentence may be thrown to the end with
a special emphasis : — " The wages of sin is death."
" On whatever side we contemplate Homer, what principally^
strikes us is his wonderful invention?" This is an arrangement
for maintaining the interest, by not disclosing the main idea till /
the very end. „ /
" There is not, and there never was, on this earth, a work
of human policy so well deserving of examination as the Ro-
man Catholic Church."
" On seeking for some clue to the law underlying these cur-
rent maxims, we may see shadowed forth in many of them, the
importance of economizing the reader's attention." Here, as often
happens, the principal subject of discourse is not the grammat-
cal subject of the verb. The writer intends to put it last, and
he accordingly makes it a grammatical object, and so, without
an inversion, secures for it that position.
" Add to your faith, virtue."
153. II. The Predicate of the sentence is also a prin-
cipal part, and should have a situation corresponding to
its importance.
The close of the sentence is, in our language, the usual place
of the predicate, and the opposite order, although" agreeable to
the first principles of arrangement (§ 65), is .Considered an inver-
sion. " Blessed are the merciful."
154. When statements of some/length enter into the
subject, or the predicate, the plfv ce3 of emphasis are to
be reserved for the most important words.
134 THE SENTENCE.
A subordinate phrase should not occupy a position where
we naturally look for a principal.
" Every attempt to dispense with axioms has proved unsuc-
cessful ; somewhere or other in the process assumed theorems
have heen found." In the latter clause, the unimportant word
found has usurped the place of prominence belonging to as-
sumed, on which the real force of the remark hinges. The sen-
tence should either begin or end with assumed : — " Assumed
theorems have been found in the process somewhere or other ; "
or, " Somewhere or other in the process there are found theo-
rems that are assumed."
" That our elder writers to Jeremy Taylor inclusive quoted
to excess, it would be the very blindness of partiality to deny.''''
Transpose the clauses : " It w r ould be the very blindness of par-
tiality to deny that our elder writers quoted to excess."
" Nor is the reason which has led to the establishment of
this moral law difficult to be discerned." The words difficult
to be discerned are not the emphatic words of the sentence.
Better — " Nor is it difficult to discern the reason that has led
to the establishment of this moral law"
il And the convertibility of the ordinary mode of descrip-
tion with this new one may be easily shown in any case."
" And it is easy to show in any case the convertibility of the
ordinary mode of description with this new one."
" The praise of judgment Yirgil has justly contested with
him, but his invention remains yet unrivalled." More em-
phatic thus : — " Yirgil has justly contested with him the praise
of judgment, but no one has yet rivalled his invention."
" He that tells a lie is not sensible how great a task he un-
dertakes ; for he must be forced to invent tw r enty more, to
maintain one." Amended: — "for, to maintain one, he must
invent twenty more."
"Both Greeks and Romans drew prognostics from prodi-
gies : that is to say, from rare natural appearances ; among
which comets, meteors, and eclipses held an important place ; " —
" among the most important of which were comets, meteors, and
eclipses."
UNITY. 135
In the following sentence, the emphasis rests on the condi-
tional clauses, and they are with obvious good effect given
last : — " Of what consequence are all the qualities of a doctrine,
if that doctrine be not communicated ; and communicated it is
not, if it be not understood ? "
The following is from Paley : — " Amongst the causes as-
signed for the continuance and diffusion of the same moral sen-
timents among mankind, we have mentioned imitation.' 1 '' This
is as it ought to be. He continues, " The efficacy of this prin-
ciple is most observable in children ; " here too an important
word occupies the close.
As, in an army on the march, the fighting columns are
placed front and rear, and the baggage in the centre, so the
emphatic parts of a sentence should be found either in the be-
ginning or in the end, subordinate and matter-of-course expres-
sions in the middle.
It may sometimes be the nature of the clause to refuse em-
phasis to itself; so that, though placed at the end, it does not
interfere with the importance of a preceding clause. In the
sentence, " Dissipation wastes health, as well as time," the loose
addition, as well as time, cannot deprive health of the stress that
would naturally be put upon it.
155. III. A Sentence is required to possess Unity.
This means that every part should be subservient to one
principal affirmation.
Blair's rules on this point, together with his examples, have
been copied by succeeding writers. They are these : —
(1.) In the course of the same sentence not to shift the scene.
" After we came to anchor, they put me on shore, where I was
welcomed by all my friends, who received me with the greatest
kindness." Here the putting on shore completes one act, and
what follows changes the scene, and should have made a new sen-
tence.
(2.) To avoid crowding into one sentence heterogeneous ideas.
" Tillotson died in this year. He was exceedingly beloved both by
King William and Queen Mary, who nominated Br. Tennison,
BUhop of Lincoln, to succeed him." The last clause, having no
natural connection with the leading proposition, ought not to have
been included in the same sentence.
136 THE SENTENCE.
" The usual acceptation takes profit and pleasure for two differ-
ent things ; and not only calls the followers or votaries of them by
the several names of busy and idle men ; but distinguishes the
faculties of mind that are conversant about them, calling the opera-
tions of the first, wisdom, and of the other, wit : which is a Saxon
word, used to express what the Spaniards and Italians call ingenio,
and the French esprit, both from the Latin ; though I think wit
more particularly signifies that of poetry, as may occur in remarks
on the Runic language." There is here crowded into one sentence
abundant matter for three.
(3.) To avoid excess of parenthetical clauses.
(4.) Not to add members after a full and perfect close. Temple
says of Fontenelle, " He falls so grossly into the censure of the
old poetry, and preference of the new, that I could not read his
strains without indignation ; which no quality among men is so
apt to raise in me as self -sufficiency.' 1 '' This last clause is an ex-
traneous addition to the sentence, which is naturally closed at in-
dignation.
Such superadded members aggravate the natural looseness of
English sentences.
156. Clauses of Consequence, of Explanation, of Iter-
ation, of Exemplification, of Qualification, and Obverse
Clauses, are often separated by a semicolon or colon from
the main statement, but do not necessarily mar the unity
of the sentence.
" Now surely this ought not to be asserted, unless it can be
proved ; we should sptcak with cautious reverence upon such a
subject." Here the second clause is a reason or justification of
the main statement, and is properly included in the sentence.
" Agriculture is the foundation of manufactures ; the produc-
tions of nature are the materials of art" This last clause may
be viewed either as explanation or as iteration. Examples under
all the heads indicated are of frequent occurrence.
157. In description, and in narrative, it is often re-
quisite to bring together in the same sentence several
distinct facts. A sentence is then a smaller paragraph.
The only rule that can be observed in distinguish-
ing the sentences, is to choose the larger breaks in the
sense.
The sentences, as well as other parts pointed off alike
THE SEXTEXCE BREAK. 137
(by the semicolon, the comma, &c), should, as far as
may be, have a co-ordinate value.
If every distinct statement were always followed by a full
stop, the style would be disagreeably broken up into curt sen-
tences. Moreover, we should lose the advantage of having a
division intermediate between a single affirmation and a para-
graph. Each sentence may contain a plurality of statements,
more closely allied than the matter cf two successive sen-
tences.
The following is an example of what is meant. " Bv night
sweet odors, varying with every hour of the watch, were wafted
from the shore to the vessel lying near ; | and the forest trees,
brought together by the serpent tracery of myriads of strange
parasitical plants, might well seem to the fancy like some great
design of building, | over which the lofty palms, a forest upon
a forest, appeared to present a new order of architecture." Here
three separate facts are expressed, and the including of them
in one sentence is justified by their being more closely allied
in meaning to one another than to the sentence following — "In
the back-ground rose the mist, like incense." "Where the sub-
ject-matter consists of a great number of detached statements,
we avail ourselves of all the grades of punctuation — comma,
semicolon, and full stop — to mark, according to our best judg-
ment, the degrees of connection or separation.
A larger extract from the same work (Helps' Spanish Con-
quest in America) will illustrate the peculiarities of the narra-
tive sentence. The subject is an expedition of Ojeda along the
American coast near the river Darien. He captured a number
of Indians and a quantity of gold in the course of his voyage,
and, disembarking, founded San Sebastian.
" Ojeda sent his stolen gold and Indians home to Saint
Domingo, in order that more men and supplies might in return
be despatched to him ; and he inaugurated the building of his
new town by a foray into the territories of a neighboring Indian
chief, who was reported to possess much gold." Here two
separate facts are stated in one sentence, the author judging it
138 THE SENTENCE.
inexpedient to devote a sentence to each. The facts were closely
related in time, and the separation of a semicolon is thought
enough for them. The concluding clause is explanatory, but it
is an explanation that also saves a narrative clause. It suggests
the purpose of the expedition, namely, the search for gold, and
at the same time accounts for it.
" This foray, however, produced nothing for Ojeda, and his
men were soon driven back by clouds of poisoned arrows."
Again two distinct facts are brought together, merely to avoid
the multiplication of short sentences. In making the four state-
ments now given, the writer has thought fit to introduce the
sentence break between the second and the third. But a minute
attention to the comparative degrees of connection of the four
facts, might suggest the end of the first as the greater break ;
the second, third, and fourth, being all related to the one matter
of the foray against the Indians.
The author now commences a new paragraph, to suit the
transition to a new subject.
" How their people should be fed, seems always to have been
a secondary consideration with these marauding governors ; and,
indeed, on like occasions in all periods of the world, it appears
as if gold were supposed to be meat, drink, and clothing, the
knowledge of what it is in civilized and settled communities cre-
ating a fixed idea of its universal power, of which people are
not able to divest themselves." The second member of this
sentence is a sort of generalization of the remark contained in
the first, which is itself a general observation prefatory to the
next part of the narrative. Long as this second member is, —
being a general maxim, burdened with a clause of explanation, —
the writer did well to place it as an appendage to the previous
clause, to which it ought to be kept in subordination. This
will be seen still better from the next sentence.
" Famine now began to make itself felt at San Sebastian."-
This sentence joins on naturally to the first part of the forego-
ing, and would not have joined on so well to the second part,
if that had been made a separate sentence. The author has
thought fit to confine this sentence to a single fact. Its brev-
unity. 139
ity makes a not unacceptable contrast to the length of the
preceding.
"Just at this point of time, however, a supply from a most
appropriate quarter came suddenly to the aid of the hungry in-
habitants of the new town." A single statement occupies this
sentence also. It might hare been coupled with the foregoino-,
although perhaps the present arrangement is preferable.
" There came in sight a vessel, which had been stolen from
some Genoese by its commander Bernardino de Talavera, who
was bringing it to the new settlement, as being a place where
the title to any possessions would not be too curiously looked
into." The first clause, "there came in sight a vessel," contains
the only fact essential to the narrative ; but the author indulges
in a little digression or by-plot, by informing the reader how
the vessel came. Such digressions are unavoidable, and often
proper in narrative ; and one mode of keeping them from trench-
ing on the main story is to make them subordinate members of
a sentence whose principal is the main story. To erect them
into distinct sentences, on the plea of unity, would be substi-
tuting a greater evil for a less.
" The supplies which this vessel brought were purchased by
Ojeda, and served to relieve, for the moment, his famishing
colony." The principal subject connects this sentence with the
principal member of the foregoing—" There came in sight a
vessel " — and the digressional explanation is no more heard of.
The sentence itself contains two facts, so nearly allied that a
comma is enough to divide them.
" But their necessities soon recommenced, and, with their
necessities, their murmurings." The break between this and
the foregoing is enough to make a distinct sentence. Its two
component facts are, as iu the former case, nearly related, and
proper to be joined in the same sentence.
" The Indians also harassed them by perpetual attacks, for
the fame of Ojeda's deeds was rife in the land, and the natives
were naturally very unwilling to have such a neighbor near
them." The change of subject requires a new sentence ; the
main clause is followed by two clauses of reason or expla-
140 THE SENTENCE.
nation, so necessary as to be added on with merely a comma
break.
" The Spanish Commander did what he could to soothe his
people, by telling them that Enciso, the partner in his expedi-
tion and his alcalde, was coming ; and, as for the Indians, Ojeda
repelled their attacks with his usual intrepidity." Two dis-
tinct but connected facts are here given. The connection, how-
ever, is not of the closest kiud ; and two sentences would not
have been improper.
"His Indian enemies, however, began to understand the
character of the man they had to deal with, and, resolving to
play upon his personal bravery, which amounted to foolhardi-
ness, they laid an ambuscade for him." This has three state-
ments, but the last contains the action, and the two others are
merely preparatory. A good example of a narrative sentence.
"The Indians then feigning an attack, Ojeda rushed out
with his wonted impetuosity, until he came within reach of
their ambuscade, which concealed four bowmen." The circum-
stances here given all concur in describing a single action. The
unity is perfect. The participial form of the commencing clause
is skilfully chosen, so as not to interfere with the prominence of
the principal subject, Ojeda.
" These discharging their poisoned arrows, one of them
passed through his thigh ; and this was the first time, strange
to say, in his adventurous and riskful life, that he had been
wounded." Again we have a unity in the action. The par-
ticipial form commences, for the same reason as before ; the sec-
ond member is an explanatory clause of the periodic form, rightly
included in the same sentence.
"No veteran, however, could have shown more indifference
to pain in the remedy which he insisted upon adopting." This
is properly made a new sentence ; its structure, however, is not
free from exception. The place of the principal subject is oc-
cupied by a subordinate word veteran ; and there is an awk-
wardness in the connection of the parts. Better thus : " But
the remedy that he insisted on adopting, showed him to sur-
pass any veteran in indifference to pain."
UNITY. 141
" He ordered two plates of iron brought to a white heat to
be tied on to the thigh, threatening the reluctant surgeon to
hang him if he did not apply this remedy." This also contains
a single action, and therefore is in accordance with the most
rigorous demands of unity.
" It was so severe that it not only burnt up the leg and the
thigh, but the heat penetrated his whole body, so that it be-
came necessary to expend a pipe of vinegar in moistening the
bandages which were afterwards applied." Otherwise : — " So
severe was the application, that not only were the leg and the
thigh burnt up, but the heat penetrated his whole body, and, in
moistening the bandages that were afterwards applied, they had
to expend a pipe of vinegar." The sentence is an explanatory
addition to the foregoing, and might have made one with it,
but for the length and the prolixity of the resulting compound.
It was also, perhaps, desirable not to accumulate the horrors of
the transaction in one unbroken string.
"All this torture Ojeda endured without being bound."
The impressiveness of the fact stated justifies the separateness
of this brief sentence.
" Would that this terrible energy and power of endurance
had been given to a career more worthy of them ! " — Appropri-
ately closes the paragraph. The last few sentences digress from
the main story, to recount the incidents personal to the chief;
and, after such a digression, it is desirable to resume the narra-
tive in a new paragraph.
It may now be seen with what limitations we are to receive
the precept regarding the unity of the sentence. A narrator
may often have to include in a sentence as many particulars as
are contained in the following from Johnson's Life of Prior,
which is adduced as a violation of unity : —
" He is supposed to have fallen, by his father's death, into the
hands of his uncle, a vintner, near Charing Cross, who sent' him
for some time to Dr. Busby, at Westminster ; but, not intending to
give him any education beyond that of the school, took him, when
he was well advanced in literature, to his own house ; where the
earl of Dorset, celebrated for patronage of genius, found him by
chance, as Burnet relates, reading Horace, and was so well pleased
142 THE PARAGRAPH.
with his proficiency, that he undertook the care and cost of his
academical education.'
In no kind of composition can the strict rule of unity be
carried out. Even in science, where the crowding of separate
facts seems most objectionable, the due subordination of what-
ever is subordinate is a higher necessity. A statement merely
explanatory or qualifying, put into a sentence apart, acquires a
dangerous prominence.
THE PARAGRAPH.
158. The division of discourse next higher than the
sentence is the Paragraph : which is a collection of sen-
tences with unity of purpose.
Like every division of discourse, a paragraph handles and
exhausts a distinct topic ; there is a greater break between the
paragraphs than between the sentences.
159. There are certain principles that govern the
structure of the paragraph, for all kinds of composition.
I. The first requisite of the paragraph is, that the
bearing of each sentence upon what precedes shall be
explicit and unmistakable.
Ambiguity of reference may arise within the sentence, but
is still more likely to occur in a succession of sentences.
160. The employment of the proper Conjunctions
is one condition of explicit reference.
Conjunctions connect sentences as well as clauses. Those
employed for that purpose are of the co-ordinating class. The
others {subordinating) are used to connect a subordinate clause
with a principal in the same sentence.
161. The subdivision of the Co-ordinating conjunc-
tions, and of conjunctive adverbs and phrases, called
CuMULATrvE, frequently connect sentences. They add
a new statement having the same bearing as what pre-
ceded.
EXPLICIT REFERENCE. 143
The head and representative of the list is And. The others
are — Also, yea, likewise, so, in like manner, first, secondly, &c,
again, besides, then, too (following another word), further, more-
over, furthermore, add to this (which). These are all quite
common. The phrases, " Yet another," " Once more," for add-
ing to a cumulation already very much extended, are familiar
to the readers of Mr. Herbert Spencer.
162. Certain of the Adversative conjunctions are
used to indicate the nxutnal bearing of consecutive sen-
tences.
Some of the members of this subdivision are termed Exclu-
sive, because they indicate the exclusion of some circumstances
that would otherwise be allowable. " Else," " otherwise," are
the chief examples ; they occasionally introduce sentences, but
owing to the intimacy of union that they express, their chief
use is to unite clauses.
Those termed Alternative sometimes form a link between
two sentences ; for example, or and nor. "When nor is used
without neither preceding, it is commonly in the sense of and
not : " Nor would he have been mistaken ; " " And he would
not have been mistaken."
We may have one sentence commencing with either and the
next with or ; and so with neither and nor. But, in general,
these intimate a closeness of connection, such as requires the
members to be kept within the same sentence.
The group of Adversative conjunctions represented by But
(called Arrestive) very often institute relations between con-
secutive sentences. They are — But then, still, yet, only, never-
theless, however, at the same time, for all that. These may
operate on a great scale, covering, not only the sentence, but
the paragraph. An entire paragraph is not unfrequently devoted
to arresting or preventing a seeming inference from one preced-
ing, and is therefore appropriately opened by but, still, &c.
163. Many of the conjunctions indicating effect or
consequences, called Illative, often connect sentences,
144 THE PARAGRAPH.
being applicable in reasoning and argument. They
are — Therefore, wherefore, hence, whence, consequently,
accordingly, thus, so, then, so then.
An effect or consequence may be given in the sentence con-
taining the cause or reason. It is equally common to employ
a separate sentence ; whence the foregoing are reckoned Para-
graph conjunctions.
164. Besides the regular conjunctions, there are a
variety of words and phrases serving for reference.
Thus the expressions for the very important ends of stating
opposition or negation, involve a reference to what went before ;
— On the contrary, on the other hand, conversely, obversely. Of
these, the only one properly signifying negation is the first ; the
others are frequently misused for that signification. " On the
other hand " properly implies an alternative. " Conversely " is,
in strict logic, transposing the terms of a proposition (Some
Englishmen are wise ; some wise men are Englishmen). " Ob-
versely " denies the opposite of a proposition (All men are
mortal, no men are immortal), which is to re-affirm it from the
other side.
Nay is an old-fashioned word for introducing an opposite
statement with some emphasis.
For returning after a digression, we employ the phrases —
To return, to proceed, to resume.
In summing up, we have — In short, in a word, on the whole,
to conclude, in conclusion, to sum up, to recapitulate.
Transition to a new line of remark is introduced by —
Hitherto, formerly, so far, thus far.
165. The Subordinating conjunctions (Because, if,
that, in order that, provided, when, &c.) usually join a
subordinate clause to a principal in the same sentence.
Occasionally, however, a subordinate statement rises to
such importance as to be placed in a sentence apart.
This happens with for, when introducing a reason ; also
with the phrase provided that, in Acts of Congress and Par-
OMISSION OF THE CONJUNCTION. 145
liament especially ; and occasionally with the conjunctions of
negative condition, unless &c.
Scarcely any others of this class are found connecting sen-
tences. We may be satisfied of this by observing the manner
in which because, if <fcc, are used. These often begin a sen-
tence, but to indicate subordination to a clause following.
Campbell remarks on the arbitrariness of usage in making
for a paragraph conjunction, and refusing the same latitude to
because.
166. In many instances, no connecting words are
used between consecutive sentences.
Connectives generally — pronouns and conjunctions — having
a tendency to load and encumber the composition, are dispensed
with as far as possible. Their absence has a distinct meaning.
16T. When a sentence either iterates or explains
what goes before, a conjunction is iinnecessary.
These are perhaps the cases where the connective is oftenest
omitted. In like manner, a member of a sentence that iterates
or explains generally stands without a conjunction. The nature
of the reference, in these instances, is supposed to be shown by
the context. When there is any doubt, specific phrases may be
employed. Thus, for iteration we say : — In other words, It
comes to the same thing, This is equal to saying, To vary the
statement. For explanation : — The explanation is, We may ac-
count for the fact, &c.
The omission extends to obverse iteration likewise.
16S. In cumulative statements, the omission of con-
junctions extensively prevails.
When a number of particulars are given in succession —
whether descriptive, narrative, or expository — they are pre-
sumed, in the absence of any contrary indication, to have a
common bearing.
As the omission of connectives is not restricted to this case,
the cumulative conjunctions must be inserted, should there be
any danger that some other interpretation will be put upon
7
146 THE PARAGRAPH.
their absence ; as, for instance, when any sentence might be
supposed to iterate or explain a preceding one.
As in a sentence, when several words or members in suc-
cession are cumulative, the conjunction is generally inserted
only before the last, so in the case of the paragraph the same
usage prevails.
Several of the cumulative conjunctions involve the additional
meaning of comparison ; as, Thus, so, likewise, accordingly.
This renders them less easily dispensed with ; still we find them
occasionally omitted. " Beware of the ides of March, said the
Roman augur to Julius Caesar. Beware of the month of May,
says the British Spectator to his fair countrywoman." The
mere fact of juxtaposition shows that the two sentences are to
be thought of together, and, as the mind can readily perceive
the relation, it is left unexpressed.
169. In the statement of a consequence, the con-
nective is sometimes expressively omitted.
When something is stated as a cause, we are prepared for
the statement of the effect ; and, if the feelings are roused, the
abrupt transition is more forcible. " The result of this week
must convince you of the hopelessness of farther resistance. /
ask the surrender of your army."
" I have been bullied," said the Countess of Dorset to Charles
the Second's Secretary of State, who suggested a member for
her pocket burgh ; " I have been bullied by an usurper, I have
been neglected by a court, but I will not be dictated to by a
subject. Your man shcCrCt stand."
170. It is remarked by Campbell that the omission
of connectives succeeds best, when the connection of the
thoughts is either very distant or very close.
" When the connection in thought is very distant, the copu-
lative appears absurd, and, when very close, superfluous. For the
first of these reasons, it is seldom that we meet with it, except in
the Bible ; and for the second, it is frequently dropt in familiar nar-
rative, where the connection is so obvious as to render it useless."
171. There are Demonstrative phrases for making a
MODES OF REFERENCE. 147
special reference to a preceding sentence : — In this case,
In that case, Under these circumstances, In the manner
now described, By such proceedings as have been de-
tailed, Under the foregoing arrangement, After what
has now been said, jSTot that all men are so affected.
A relative pronoun refers one clause to another in the same
sentence, but rarely connects two successive sentences. The
old English usage of commencing a sentence with who for and
he is now obsolete ; the reason being that the relative expresses
a close connection between the members joined.
The demonstrative phrase of reference does not always com-
mence the sentence. It may be the object of a verb ; as, " Even
although he had foreseen this consequence.'''' Or it may stand
in other positions. " The general, in this emergency, trusted to
his cavalry." The article and a general word is enough for a
reference : — The event deceived him ; The case was not so bad.
172. The reference may be made by repeating, either
literally or in substance, the matter referred to.
The repetition is prefaced by such expressions as, We have
now seen, We have already stated, It was formerly laid down,
It was remarked above. This mode becomes more necessary
when we refer some way back.
173. The reference may also be indicated by the ar-
rangement of the sentence. Inversions often have this
end in view.
" Entering the gulf, he endeavored to find the river Darien.
Tliis riter he could not discover, but he disembarked on the eastern
side of the gulf."
The following passage could be improved on the same prin-
ciple : — " Early in the morning, the nobles and gentlemen, who
attended on the king, assembled in the great hall of the castle,
and here they began to talk of what a dreadful storm it had
been the night before. But Macbeth could scarcely understand
what they said, for he was thinking of something worse ! "
" Wliat they said, Macbeth could scarcely understand."
/
148 THE PAEAGEAPH.
174. The writings of De Quince j deserve especial
mention on the point of explicit reference.
The following sentence will furnish a short example. The
words that make reference to what precedes, are in italics ; it
will be observed that they form a considerable part of the sen-
tence. Such profuseness is characteristic of the author.
"If we do submit to this narrow valuation of style, founded on
the interest of the subject to which it is ministerial [repetition in
substance of what is referred to], still, even on that basis, we Eng-
lish commit a capital blunder, which the French earnestly and sin-
cerely escape; for, assuming that the thoughts involve the primary
interest, still it must make all the difference in the world to the
success of those thoughts, whether they are treated in the way best
fitted to expel the doubts or darkness that may have settled on
them ; and, secondly, in cases where the business is, not to estab-
lish new convictions, but to carry old convictions into operative life
and power, whether they are treated in the way best fitted to re-
kindle in the mind a practical sense of their value.".
175. II. When several consecutive sentences iterate
or illustrate the same idea, they should, as far as possi-
ble, be formed alike. This may be called the rule of
Parallel Construction.
The principal subject and the principal predicate should re-
tain their positions throughout. The variety required, on other
considerations, should interfere, as little as may be, with this
uniformity. ATe ought not to seek variety by throwing the
principal into a subordinate place.
The disposition of corresponding expressions in correspond-
ing places, already recognized for the Sentence (§ 138), is no
less important, as a means of intelligibility, in the arrangement
of the Paragraph.
Macaulay's Milton contains this paragraph ; where the prin-
cipal subject, variously worded, is retained in the place of
prominence throughout.
" The most striking characteristic of the poetry of Milton, is
the extreme remoteness of the associations by means of which
it acts on the reader." This also, in accordance with § 176, is
the theme of the paragraph. " Its effect is produced, not so
PARALLEL COXSTRTJCTICXN'. 149
much by what it expresses, as by what it suggests ; not so much
by the ideas which it directly conveys, as by other ideas which
are connected with them." A sentence of iteration in varied
phrase. " He electrifies the mind through conductors." Under
the Expository art, this would be called an Illustration. " The
most unimaginative man must understand the Iliad ; Homer
gives him no choice, but takes the whole on himself, and sets
his images in so clear a light that it is impossible to be blind to
them." A contrasting sentence, not quite so well managed ;
the Iliad or Homer should have had the place of prominence,
instead of " the unimaginative man." Out of the present con-
nection, this member would have an emphasis by closing with
the Iliad ; but here it is preferable to say, " The Iliad must be
understood by the least imaginative of men ; " with which the
second member corresponds. "Milton does not paint a finished
picture, or play for a mere passive listener. He sketches, and
leaves others to fill up the outline ; he strikes the key-note, and
expects his hearer to make out the melody."
Take another example : — " Heracleitus of Ephesas, who may
be placed in the line of the Ionic Philosophers, is stated to
have flourished about 504 b. c. The active part of his fife
probably belonged to the last part of the sixth and the first part
of the fifth century. He may be considered as nearly contem-
porary with iEschylus. The obscurity of the written style in
which he expressed his philosophical opinions became pro-
verbial." The parallelism is preserved in all these sentences
but the last. Say rather, "He became proverbial for having
written his philosophical opinions in an obscure style." Besides
restoring the subject to its place, this arrangement improves the
predicate ; the emphatic expression being put last.
It does not violate the parallel construction to place the
main subject, for the sake of emphasis, at the end of the first
sentence. Such sentences as that already quoted, " There is
not a work of human policy so well deserving of examination
as the Roman Catholic Church" are to be held as merely pro-
pounding the theme for consideration ; they do not as yet affirm
any of its important predicates. After the subject is thus pro-
150 THE PARAGRAPH.
pounded, it must take its proper position, and be maintained in
that position throughout. " The history of that church joins
together the two great ages of human civilization. No other
institution is left standing which carries the mind back to the
times when the smoke of sacrifice rose from the Pantheon, and
when camelopards and tigers bounded in the Flavian amphi-
theatre. The proudest royal houses are but of yesterday, when
compared with the line of the Supreme Pontiffs. That line we
trace back in an unbroken series, from the Pope who crowned
Napoleon in the nineteenth century, to the Pope who crowned
Pepin in the eighth, &c." The second and third sentences are
contrasting or obverse sentences, and their subjects take the
place corresponding to the main subject ; by which means the
parallelism is maintained.
Further examples occur in Extracts L, III., V., <tc.
176. III. The opening sentence, unless so constructed
as to be obviously preparatory, is expected to indicate
with prominence the subject of the paragraph.
A paragraph describing the constituents of the British Gov-
ernment may begin thus : — " The Government of Britain, called
a mixed government, and sometimes a limited monarchy, is
formed by a combination of the three regular species of gov-
ernment."
The two following sentences are the opening of Graham's
celebrated paper on Dialysis. " The property of volatility pos-
sessed in various degrees by so many substances, affords inval-
uable means of separation, as is seen in the ever-recurring pro-
cesses of evaporation and distillation. So similar in character
to volatility is the Diffusive power possessed by all liquid sub-
stances, that we may fairly reckon upon a class of analogous
analytical resources arising from it." Now the first sentence is
preparatory to the introduction of the main subject (Diffusion)
in the second ; but, as it stands, it seems to propound volatility
as the subject of the paragraph. The author might have said : —
" It has been found with regard to the property of volatility,
possessed, &c." This would have given to the sentence its true
UNITY OF THE PARAGRAPH. 151
character of a preparatory illustration. Then the next sentence
would have been : — " Now, so similar in character to volatility
is the Diffusive power possessed by all liquid substances," &c,
thus propounding the main subject of the paragraph and of the
paper.
177. IY. A paragraph, should be consecutive, or free
from dislocation.
Each paragraph has a plan dictated by the nature of the
composition. According to such plan, every pertinent state-
ment has a suitable place ; in that place, it contributes to the
general effect ; and, out of that place, it makes confusion. For
examples see Extracts III., VII., XI.
178. Y. The paragraph should possess unity ; which
implies a definite purpose, and forbids digressions and
irrelevant matter.
This rule belongs to compositions that address the under-
standing, and is not strictly enforced in Poetry. Thus in Mil-
ton: —
" He scarce had ceas'd, when the superior Fiend
"Was moving towards the shore ; his pond'rous shield,
Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round,
Behind him cast ; the broad circumference
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views
At ev'ning from the top of Fesole,
Or in Yaldarno, to descry new lands,
Rivers, or mountains, on her spotty globe."
The lines beginning whose orb are a pure digression ; but,
as they give an interesting picture, they serve the object of the
poet. See also the Odyssey, VIII. 521-30.
Adapting an old homely maxim, we may say, Loot to the
Paragraphs and the Discourse will look to itself; for, although
a discourse as a whole has a method or plan suited to its nature,
yet the confining of each paragraph to a distinct topic avoids
some of the worst faults of composition ; besides which, he that
fully comprehends the method of a paragraph, will also com-
prehend the method of an entire work.
179. VI. As in the sentence, so in the paragraph, a
152 THE PARAGRAPH.
due proportion should obtain between principal and
subordinate statements.
It is a maxim of style universally, that everything should
have bulk and prominence according to its importance. We
have formerly seen (p. 69) that the arts of condensation are
especially required for this end. Thus Gibbon says : — " The
forms of the old administration were maintained by those faith-
ful counsellors to whom Marcus recommended his son, and for
whose wisdom and integrity Commodus still entertained a re-
luctant esteem."
The following sentences occur in De Quincey's remarks on
Style : — " Darkness gathers upon many a theme, sometimes
from previous mistreatment, but oftener from original perplexi-
ties investing its very nature. Upon the style it is, if we take
that word in its largest sense — upon the skill and art of the de-
veloper — that these perplexities depend for their illumination."
The main subject here is the "Darkness gathering upon a
theme ; " the causes of the darkness are of minor importance,
and should have been given more shortly, — whether from natu-
ral perplexity or from previous mistreatment.
PART II.
KINDS OF COMPOSITION.
We must now consider in detail the peculiarities of
the Five Kinds of Composition. We shall thus bring-
to view a number of other principles and maxims bear-
ing on effectiveness of style. There will, also, be many
opportunities of illustrating farther the precepts already
laid down.
CHAPTER I.
DESCRIPTION.
1. When an object of some degree of complexity
is to be represented in language, there is a certain
method to be observed ; in other words, there is an
Art of Description.
To recall a simple or familiar thing, in its ordinary aspect, —
as, the moon, the sea, or a field, — a word is enough. Even if
there be a qualifying term in addition, — as, the full moon, the
smooth sea, a field of "wheat, — no direction is needed, except to
give, as far as convenient, the qualifying attribute first. But
when we have to describe a varied scene, — the array of a battle,
a town, a prospect, the exterior or interior of a building, a piece-
1*
154 DESCRIPTION.
of machinery, the geography of a country, the structure of a
plant or an animal, — we must proceed according to method.
2. I. The chief rule in Description is to include with
the Enumeration of the parts a comprehensive statement,
or general Plan, of the whole.
The general plan may usually be given first ; and, if there
be danger of its dropping out of view, it should be repeated.
The particulars are to be enumerated in the order that they
occupy in the plan.
3. The Form, or Outline, furnishes, in many in-
stances, the comprehensive type that is sought.
We describe a field as triangular, square, oblong, semicir-
cular, &c. A building is represented as long and narrow, lofty,
circular, or quadrangular. A hill is conical, dome-shaped, or
truncated. A valley is straight or winding. A city is round
and compact, or long and straggling. A geographical tract is
described in the first instance by its form.
4. In a definite description, the Magnitude is stated
as well as the Form : as, a circle one hundred feet' in
diameter ; an oblong tract of country, covering two
hundred square miles.
The Outline and Size together constitute the fundamental
fact of the Object world, — Extension in Space. In the orderly
enumeration of the contents, it is shown how the containing
whole is made up.
Any well recognized form is sufficient, although not one of
the simple mathematical figures. A thing may be heart-shaped,
leaf-shaped, egg-shaped ; it may resemble a boot, like Italy, a
a spider, or a crown. The constellations exemplify groupings
according to arbitrary but familiar shapes. A star is then
known as in the belt of Orion, or in the tail of the Great Bear.
5. Some objects may have their parts arranged as
branches from a centre, or main trunk.
The tree is a suitable type for a variety of things ; as, the
PLAN OF ENUMERATION. 155
tributaries of a river, valleys, and mountain ranges. A parallel
case is furnished in the blood-vessels and nerves of the human
body.
The complication of a tovm is often happily unravelled by
starting from a main trunk. Many towns afford this naturally
in a river, a valley, a ridge, or a principal highway ; the streets
areHlien arranged and described as they branch off from the
trunk ; the larger branches being first pointed out, and then
the smaller as tributary to these. In some cases, the point of
departure may be a very prominent central object, as an ele-
vated castle, or citadel, or a great public building. This refer-
ence may be joined with the other ; aud both may be combined
with an outline.
G. Any feat'ire suggesting a comprehensive aspect
may be chosen. A figurative epithet often answers the
desired end. TILis in Milton : —
" They plucked the seated hills, with all their load —
Rocks, waters, woods — aud by the shaggy tops
Up-liftiug, bore them in their hauds."
Also in Carry le's description of Zorndorf: — "Such is the
poor moorland tract of country ; Zorndorf the centre of it, —
where the battle is likely to be : — Zorndorf and environs, a bare
quasi-island among these woods ; extensive bald croicn of the
landscape, girt with a frizzle of firwoocls all round.''
The subordination of the detail to the type necessarily ap-
j , !k. S. roa^aout In Milton's description of Satan's Palace, the
Avhole building is first characterized, " the ascending pile ; " next
in the interior, "the smooth and level pavement;" and then
the " arch'd roof."
The following passage, describing, the Alps, exemplifies in
part the foregoing rules as applied to Geography.
" The Alps consist, in their eastern portion, of several parallel
ranges, running in a general east and west direction ; westward of
the 9th meridian, these are diminished to two chains, divided by
the valley of the river Bhone ; and still further to the west, where
they bend southward, they form a single main chain, or axis of ele-
vation, though with numerous offsets, which occupy the country on
either side. In this, the most western portion, the entire breadth
15 G DESCRIPTION.
of the mountain mass is about 100 miles : in their more eastern
portion, the breadth is considerably greater, and between the 9th
and 13th meridians, is from 120 to 130 miles. The Alps are high-
est in their western part, where the crest of the range has an aver-
age elevation of between 8,000 and 9,000 feet; Mount Blanc, their
loftiest summit, is 15,730 feet in elevation, and is (if we except
the border chain of Mount Caucasus) the highest mountain in
Europe. Many other summits in this part of the range exceed
12,000 feet in height. The more eastern portion of the Alps have
an average elevation of between 6,000 and 7,000 feet ; but through
their entire course numerous summits exceed 10,000 feet in height,
and rise above the limits of perpetual snow, the line of which
is here between 8,000 and 9,000 feet above the sea-level. The
descent of the Alps is more rapid towards Italy than towards the
north, on which side they form elevated plains and high mountain
valleys."
It will be observed that the horizontal outline or form of the
range is given first. The elevation follows, and the comprehen-
sive figure is finally determined by the description of the slope
on each side. The author afterwards proceeds to describe
the passes, which still farther contribute to the figure, and
chime in with, or support, the assigned elevation of the peaks.
He then adverts to the most prominent of the constituent
features of the Alps — the glaciers, which he describes on the
pie system of comprehensive type and detailed enumer-
ation.
See also Extracts VII., VIII., IX., Appendix.
7. II. The description may follow the Succession of
Aspects disclosed to a spectator surveying the whole.
In those cases where the object cannot be comprehended
in one view, or from one position, it may be described in the
order of actual presentation. By such adaptation to the
natural method of observing, a strong feeling of reality is
given to the picture. The panoramic view is an obvious
example.
This may also be called the Traveller's point of view. Out
of the vastness and variety of the world, it aims at presenting
only what the mind can embrace ; if inadequate, it is at least
intelligible. As the traveller's route may be so conducted as to
exhaust and comprehend an entire object or scene, so likewise
157
may be the description. The precaution requisite in this case
is to shift the poiut of view decidedly and avowedly, and not
to mingle successive aspects of the panorama.
The advantages of the Traveller's point of view have led to
its being adopted as a mode of fiction. The genius of Defoe
stands out distinguished in this kind of representation. His
" Voyage round the World " sets forth all the aspects and inci-
dents of a seafaring and trading life exactly as they would
have met the eye of any one on ship-board. Arthur Helps
constructs an imaginary voyage to present more vividly the
country and the customs of the Indians on the Pearl Coast
(Spanish Conquest in America, vol. ii., p. 123). Goldsmith's
Traveller is an example in poetry. See also a short passage
quoted on p. 94.
It is useful to combine with other modes of describing a
town and its environs, the panoramic prospect from some lofty
position, as Athens from the Pnyx.
8. III. A description is more easily and fully real-
ized when made individual, that is, presented under all
the conditions of a particular moment of time.
As the mind, even when supposed to entertain an abstrac-
tion, must have a concrete instance in view, anything that helps
to suggest our concrete experience adds to the force of descrip-
tion.
All scenes whatsoever are beheld under a certain light, and
at a certain hour of the day. Many things are liable to chang-
ing aspects in themselves ; the sea is smooth, rippled, or piled
up in breakers ; the face of nature generally has its varieties ac-
cording to season ; the plant, as seen in the concrete, is at some
definite stage of its growth ; the animal is in some posture, or
performing some act, characteristic of the moment. Now we
can more easily picture to ourselves an object when individual-
ized to the full, as it appears in a given instant of time, than
when the individualizing features are made an abstraction.
As our mental conception of the visible world is a com-
pound of form and color, these must be sufficiently given in any
158 DESCRIPTION.
description. The form is perhaps the least laborious to con-
ceive ; hence what vivifies the picture is an indication of the
color ; as a " brown visage," a " scarlet lip," " the deep blue
sky," " the amber stream." "When, by metonymy, the material
is used for the thing made of it — as, "the cold steel" — the
effect of the figure is due to its suggesting surface and color.
Next to color is posture or attitude, or the momentary
aspect of the thing described ; as in the following from the
Odyssey : —
" He ceased ; the whole assembly silent sat,
Charmed into ecstasy with his discourse,
Throughout the twilight hall."
Some accompanying action also gives individuality. An-
other principle is here involved, belonging to the art of poetical
description, — namely, that language is suited to express action
better than still life. Thus, in Suckling's Bride : —
" Her feet beneath her petticoat,
Like little mice, stole in and out."
A river in motion is either quick or slow, uniform or inter-
rupted with rapids, muddy or clear ; and the indicating of those
features makes the description individual or concrete : " the
sluggish Ouse."
An interior is more vividly pictured, when a moment is
chosen, and the characteristic attitude and movements are
pointed out : —
" For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, '
Nor busy housewife ply her evening care ;
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share."
9. IV. Associated circumstances are an aid to de-
scription.
Thus, although form and color are the pictorial basis of the
external world, the modifications of these suggest many other
properties. For example, we have an inseparable association
(accounted by some an instinct) between certain visible appear-
ances and the distances and real magnitudes of things. Where-
fore it is possible to aid the visible representation by the men-
ASSOCIATED CIRCUMSTANCES. 159
tion of these allied facts ; as, " the distant hills," " the landscape
shining near.''''
We may also use more casual associations ; as, " the solitary
peaks," " a place where only mountain sheep could be at home"
" the town stands high and windy"
10. The associated human feelings are often adduced
in describing objects, especially in poetry.
The feelings of common utility are reflected from many
things, and help to describe them ; as, a cheerful home, a com-
fortless den, a dainty repast, a toilsome ascent, a, pitiless storm.
The associations with the various emotions of Fine Art are
still more frequently introduced to vivify the pictorial repre-
sentation of nature. Hence such epithets as grand, imposing,
solemn, awe-inspiring, soul-subduing, dreary, gloomy, gay, ani-
mated, cheerful, beautiful. "We speak of a comical face, a noble
pile, a terrible abyss, a sublime peak.
The picture of Dover cliff is principally made up of asso-
ciated feelings.
" Come on, sir, here's the place — stand still. How dreadful
And dizzy His to cast one's eyes so low ! "
"I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.' 1 ''
The intermediate portion — " The crows and choughs, &c." —
assigns the associated circumstances of diminished size, to ex-
press great remoteness.
As each person mingles self with all outward regards, and
as the object world cannot, in the concrete, be separated from
a subject mind ; the acts, feelings, and thoughts of an observer,
real or supposed, have an individualizing effect in description.
" Turning with easy eye, thou maifst behold — ."
11. The particulars of a description may sometimes
support each other.
As mountains, valleys, and rivers are naturally inseparable,
they are thereby mutually suggestive. The description of a
valley implies the sides of the enclosing mountains ; while the
160 DESCRIPTION.
branchings and course of a river determine the valleys. The
separate detail of the three parts, therefore, though appearing
only to fill up the description, in reality repeats it from differ-
ent points of view ; and each part supports and confirms the
others.
Another case of mutual support is the harmonious combina-
tion of the different methods of description. The method of
Plan and Enumeration (I) may be followed up by the Travel-
ler's point of view (II). If the two are managed so as to fit well
together, the result is highly favorable to the ease and vividness
of the picture. In like manner, the associated particulars con-
firm the literal delineation.
If such additional and supporting particulars are not justified
by the difficulty or the importance of the subject, they fall under
the censure of redundancy.
12. The description of the feelings and thoughts of
the mind — sometimes called the Subject World, as op-
posed to the Object or Extended World — has, to a cer-
tain extent, a method of its own.
I. The description of the feelings may be effected by
means of the proper vocabulary of mind ; as, pleasure,
love, rage, fear, unconcern, trust, hope.
Every language provides terms for describing the feelings of
the mind ; and the English language owns an extensive stock
of such. To make known a feeling, therefore, we, in the first
instance, look for the suitable name in this department of our
vocabulary. We can express a large number of mental states
by names appropriated to them. Hunger, repletion, cold, ex-
hilaration, intoxication, ennui, sweetness, charm, pungency, bit-
terness, wonder, sorrow, despair, melancholy, depression, are a
few additional examples.
We attain a more exact delineation of the feelings by as-
signing a genus and a specific difference ; a " faint pleasure,"
" strong affection," " noble rage," " intense curiosity."
13. Intellectual processes have also a language of
SUBJECTIVE DESCRIPTION. 161
their own ; as, perception, memory, imagination, reason.
The resulting ideas may be described by a reference to
their several objects ; as, " the recollection of one's early
years" " the imagination of a feast" " the notion of the
Iii finite"
The matters successively thought of may be mentioned in
order : — " These, however, were but the evening fancies of the
mariner, who had before him fondly in his mind the wreathed
pillars of the cathedral of Burgos, or the thousand-columned
Christian mosque of Cordova, or the perfect fane of Seville."
The predominance of these modes constitutes a subjective
style, and is an extreme to be avoided.
The following passage from Adam Smith comes almost
wholly under the present head. The few objective references
are marked in italics : —
" The violator of the more sacred laws of justice, can never re-
flect on the sentiments which mankind must entertain with regard
to him, without feeling all the agonies of shame, and horror, and
consternation. "When his passion is gratified, and he begins coolly
to reflect on his past conduct, he can enter into none of the motives
which influenced it. They appear now as detestable to him as they
did always to other people. By sympathizing with the hatred and
abhorrence which other men must entertain for him, he becomes, in
some measure, the object of his own hatred and abhorrence. The
situation of the person who suffered by his injustice, now calls upon
his pity. He is grieved at the thought of it ; regrets the unhappy
effects of his own conduct, and feels at the same time that they
have rendered him the proper object of the resentment and indig-
nation of mankind, and of what is the natural consequence of re-
sentment, vengeance and punishment. The thought of this per-
petually haunts him, and fills him with terror and amazement. He
dares no longer look society in the face, but imagines himself as it
were rejected, and thrown out from the affections of all mankind.
He cannot hope for the consolation of sympathy in this his greatest
and most dreadful distress. The remembrance of his crimes has
shut out all fellow-feeling with him from the hearts of his fellow-
creatures. The sentiments which they entertain with regard to
him, are the very thing which he is most afraid of. Every thing
seems hostile, and he would be glad to fly to some inhospitable
desert, where he might never more behold the face of a human crea-
ture, nor read in the countenance of mankind the condemnation of
his crimes. But solitude is still more dreadful than society. His
own thoughts can present him with nothing but what is black, un-
162 DESCRIPTION.
fortunate, and disastrous, the melancholy forebodings of incompre-
hensible misery and ruin."
* 14. II. The feelings may be described, or, to speak
more correctly, suggested, by their various associations.
And first, by their Outward Expression.
The expression of the features, the varying hues of the coun-
tenance, the tones of the voice, the gesticulations of the body,
are characteristic of the great leading emotions. The signs of
pleasure, pain, anger, fear, wonder, tender feeling, are known
and read in all times and in all countries. The description of
them in language is also suggestive. Hence " the smiling coun-
tenance," "the dark frown of anger," "the stare of wonder,"
help us to realize the feelings. Fear has been often pictured
vividly. We need only recall Job iv. 14, and the passage in
Hamlet, " I could a tale unfold — ."
Secondly, by their known Occasions, Causes, or
Provocations.
The mention of a kind or beneficent action suggests to us,
by anticipation, the grateful feeling of the recipient. An im-
pending danger makes us conceive the terror it causes. On
hearing of some great provocation, we recall the emotion of
anger.
Thirdly, by the resulting Actions or Conduct.
There is a specific line of conduct following our stronger
feelings, such as to mark more especially their pleasurable or
painful character. The devotion to knowledge, to art, or to
sportive recreations, suggests the degree of pleasure that they
severally give ; intense avoidance has the contrary meaning.
While feeling and thought are mental or subjective, action
is material or objective, and can be so described. Such char-
acteristics as energetic, lively, slow, taciturn, uncouth, persistent,
applied to human beings, are objective features.
Fourthly, by the External Scenes, Objects, and Cir-
cumstances, that are in harmony with them.
DESCRIPTION EST SCIENCE. 163
We have already referred to the tendency of external nature
to raise certain emotions — the sublime, the terrible, the beauti-
ful, the tender, &c. (§ 102) — and have shown the union thus
arising to be made use of in objective description (p. 159).
TVe may employ it also in subjective description. Thus, to
represent the timid man's feelings, we use the objective illus-
tration, " he saw a lion in his path." Other examples are — " In
the seventh heavens ; " " down in the depths ; " "a sunny
soul ; " " the one with spirits as of men beating, the other with
spirits as of men beaten." See also the expressions in italics,
in the passage quoted on page 161.
15. Description is involved in all the other kinds of
Composition.
The narration of events or operations must often be a series
of descriptions ; as a battle, a campaign, a voyage. Kinglake's
narrative of the battle of the Alma is in great part made up of
descriptions.
In describing machinery and processes in the arts, the main
or essential part of the mechanism is to be carefully distin-
guished from the accessories or details.
Dr. Arnott introduces his account of the steam-engine thus :
— " The name steam-engine to most persons brings the idea of
a machine of the most complex nature, and hence to be under-
stood only by those who will devote much time to the study of
it ; but he that can understand a common pump, may under-
stand a steam-engine. It is, in fact, only a pump in which the
fluid passing through it is made to impel the piston instead of
being impelled by it, that is to say, in which the fluid acts as
the power instead of being the resistance.''''
16. Exposition, or Science, is frequently made up in
a great measure of Description. The Xatural Sciences,
Geography, Anatomy, Zoology, Botany, &c 3 are exam-
ples.
Geography has been already referred to. In Anatomy, there
is an elaborate descriptive method. The larger organs, as the
164 DESCRIPTION.
viscera, are represented by Outline, Plan and Enumeration of
parts ; the blood-vessels and nerves are given on the method of
Main Trunk and Ramifications. In the description of the vagus
nerve, the following comprehensive outline is prefaced : — " The
vao-us has the longest course of any of the cranial nerves. It
extends through the neck and the cavity of the chest to the upper
part of the abdomen ; and it supplies nerves to the organs of
voice and respiration, to the alimentary canal as far as the
stomach, and to the heart."
17. Poetry partakes so largely of Description, that
the principles now laid down are proper to be incor-
porated in the poetic art.
The end of Poetry, which is immediate pleasure or emotional
effect, determines the subjects chosen. Language being inad-
equate to the easy presentation of complicated scenes, the poet
refrains from attempting such, and selects the simpler and more
impressive objects, which a few bold touches will enable him to
depict. He also dispenses with numerical exactness, and em-
ploys largely the language of associated circumstances, and,
more especially, the associated feelings.
Milton's description of the scene from the Mount of Temp-
tation fairly represents the degree of complication that a poet
may undertake : —
" It was a mountain at whose verdant feet
A spacious plain, outstretched in circuit wide,
Lay pleasant ; from its side two rivers flow'd,
The one winding, the other straight, and left between
Fair champaign with less rivers intervein'd,
Then meeting join'd their tribute to the sea ;
With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks the hills ;
Huge cities and high tower'd, that well might seem
The seats of mightiest monarchs ; and so large
The prospect was, that here and there was room
For barren desert, fountainless and dry."
The laws of description are well observed in this passage ;
and, without a laborious effort, the whole scene may be con-
ceived and its beauties enjoyed.
The following is one of Wordsworth's most complicated
descriptions : —
DESCRIPTION IN POETRY. 165
"A point that show'd the valley, stretched
At length before us ; and, not distant far,
Upon a rising ground a gray church-tower,
Whose battlements were screened by tufted trees.
And towards a crystal mere, that lay beyond
Among steep hills and woods embosomed, flowed
A copious stream with boldly-winding course ;
Here traceable, there hidden — there again
To sight restored, and glittering in the sun.
On the stream's bank, and everywhere, appeared
Fair dwellings, single, or in social knots ;
Some scattered o'er the level, others perched
On the hill sides, a cheerful quiet scene,
Now in its morning purity arrayed."
Usually, however, the practice of poets is to give mere
snatches of views, and to overlay them with figures of simili-
tude, associated particulars, and the language of feeling. Scott's
description, in Marmion, of the prospect towards Edinburgh,
from the top of Blackford, is a series of poetic touches : —
" When sated with the martial show
That peopled all the plain below,
The wandering eye could o'er it go,
And mark the distant city glow
With gloomy splendor red ;
For, on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow,
That round her sable turrets flow,
The morning beams were shed,
And tinged them with a lustre proud,
Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud.
Such dusky grandeur clothed the height,
Where the huge castle holds its state,
And all the steep slope down,
Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky,
Piled deep and massy, close and high,
Mine own romantic town !
But northward far, with purer blaze,
On Ochil mountains fall the rays,
And as each heathy top they kissed,
It gleamed a purple amethyst.
Yonder the shores of Fife you saw ;
Here Preston-Bay and Berwick-Law ;
And, broad between them rolled,
The gallant Frith the eye might note,
Whose islands on its bosom float,
Like emeralds chased in gold.
The delineation of character is sometimes called Description.
But in so far as this consists in summing up the conduct of an
individual, or of a nation, or in depicting any other object, in
166 NARRATIVE.
general attributes, it is of the nature of science ; and, when
striking emotional effects are aimed at, it is a species of
poetry.
CHAPTER II.
NARRATIVE.
18. Narrative composition applies to a succession of
views, or to things changing from one phase to another,
and to the stream of events.
Language, being itself successive, is best adapted to inform
us of successions. Hence, in cases where the individual phases
or objects that pass before the view are of a simple and intelli-
gible nature, Narrative is easier both to compose and to com-
prehend than Description. The narrative of incidents in a
Fable is such as to dispense with rules of art. Even when the
subject is of wider scope, there may be no more than a single
thread to follow, the deliberations and dictates of one mind.
But events of importance usually imply a mechanism and a set
of arrangements, more or less complicated, and occupying a
definite space ; thus pre-supposing the means of Description.
Suc'h are the movements of armies, and the occupation of new
countries ; the larger processes of industry ; the busy life of
cities ; the workings of Nature on a grand scale ; the vicissi-
tudes of the seasons, day and night, storms, tides, and the flow
of rivers ; geological changes ; the evolution of vegetable and
animal life. Narration, therefore, may have to put on the guise
of a series of descriptions. Whence the necessity for the two
following precautions : —
(1.) In Narrative, the scenes should not be shifted
oftener, or to a greater extent, than is absolutely neces-
sary.
The reader should be spared the work of often re-construct-
OEDER OF EVENTS. 167
ing the ground plan, as -well as the fatigue of distracting pic-
tures. When one description can, by slight curtailments or
additions, be made to answer throughout, to depart from it is a
■waste of mental force.
(2.) Clear intimation should be given of any change
of scene, or of the introduction or the disappearance of
an important agent.
This essential of perspicuous narrative is often disregarded,
especially by the poets ; they being unable to give such inti-
mations in poetic diction. In the Faerie Queen, personages
appear and disappear without warning ; and the whole action
is rendered hazy by the uncertainty of the groundwork. Stage
directions would be invaluable in these cases.
19. I. The first principle of Xarrative is to follow
the Order of Events. This implies placing the events
before ns as we should have witnessed them.
It is also the order of dependence, or cause and effect,
a relationship commonly made prominent in narrative.
A historian is required, not merely to relate events, but to
explain or account for them. In other words, he has to show
how they conform to the ordinary laws of the world. His per-
sonages must be seen to be actuated by the usual motives of
mankind ; he must find, in the recognized modes of working
of things, adequate causes for whatever has happened.
Such explanatory accompaniments are said to make a his-
tory philosophical. There is, however, no history that is not
philosophical in some degree. The difference between one his-
torian and another has regard to the accuracy and penetration
that they severally display in accounting for the transactions
narrated by them.
20. To assign the date of every transaction is to give
it a definite place, and to institute one vital bond of con-
nection between it and other transactions.
Chronology is the skeleton, the chart, of history. It is what
168 NARRATIVE.
latitude and longitude are to geography. Every event is by
this means set in a definite position towards every other ; any
two events are either contemporary or successive, with a fixed
interval between. Hence there is no rule of historical compo-
sition more imperative than the easily obeyed one of giving
dates. It is hard to comprehend Gibbon's motives in not sup-
plying a marginal chronology.
To fix upon a year and assign the things transacting therein,
throughout all the countries historically known, is a favorite
theme with Macaulay, and would constitute a good exercise for
pupils studying history. Among countries having relations with
each other — in war, alliance, trade, &c. — these contemporaneous
events will often be found connected ; and every sort of connec-
tion both imparts interest and aids memory.
21. For the better explanation of events, a backward
reference may be necessary.
Whatever period an historian selects, he starts with a certain
condition of things, which he is desirous to account for. He
therefore gives a short summary of previous transactions, con-
fining himself to such as bear on this special end.
Macaulay's History of James II. is prefaced by a rapid
survey of the History of England. An historian of the battle
of Waterloo would have to prepare his readers by a summary
like the following : —
The great political event of the end of the last century, the
French devolution of 1789, expelled the dynasty that had ruled
France for many ages, and established a democratic government,
which, after a series of vicissitudes, marked by intense party feel-
ings, gave way to the usurpation of Napoleon, who had distin-
guished himself as a victorious general in the wars of the Republic.
His great military career, begun in Italy, extended over Europe,
ending in the subjugation of the Spanish Peninsula, the Low Coun-
tries, and a great part of Germany. The British power, co-operating
with the subjugated nations, through that memorable struggle
known as the Peninsular War, at last succeeded in wresting from
him his conquests, and in making him a prisoner and an exile in
the island of Elba. He, however, contrived to escape from his con-
finement, to make good a landing in France, and, by the attraction
of his name, to muster the military power of the country, and
INTEREST OF HISTORY. 177
tion of the feelings. In this light, History participates
of the nature of Poetry, of which it commands many
elements.
(1.) There is always a powerful attraction in human person-
ality — man's interest in man. Our sympathy with the race in
general, and with our own, or any other, country in particular,
engages us with human affairs in the past.
(2.) The spectacle of great heroic men, and of the collective
force of nations, displaying itself in war or in peace, is impos-
ing and sublime.
(3.) It is in narration that we enjoy the stir of movement
and the interest of plot.
(4.) Sometimes we are gratified by a righteous moral retri-
butiou, and by the success ol worthy endeavors.
(5.) The progress or imp- ement of mankind is a natural
aspiration, lending interest to the course of events. The follow-
ing passage from Macaulay brings out this special interest, and
is also deserving of being quoted as an example of Strength, and
of the arts of Poetry embodied in prose : —
" The sources of the noblest rivers which spread fertility over
continents, and bear richly laden fleets to the sea, are to be sought
in wild and barren mountain tracts, incorrectly laid down in maps,
and rarely explored by travellers. To such a tract the history of
our country during the thirteenth century may not inaptly be com-
pared. Sterile and obscure as is that portion of our annals, it is
there that we must seek for the origin of our freedom, our pros-
perity, and our glory. Then it was that the great English people
was formed ; that the national character began to exhibit those pe-
culiarities which it has ever since retained ; and that our fathers
became emphatically islanders, — islanders not merely in geographi-
cal position, but in their politics, their feelings, and their manners.
Then first appeared with distinctness that constitution which has
ever since, through all changes, preserved its identity ; that consti-
tution of which all the other free constitutions in the world are
copies, and which, in spite of some defects, deserves to be regarded
as the best under which any great society has ever yet existed
during many ages. Then it was that the House of Commons, the
archetype of all the representative assemblies which now meet either
in the Old or in the New World, held its first sittings. Then it
was that the common law rose to the dignity of a science, and
rapidly became a not unworthy rival of the imperial jurisprudence.
Then it was that the courage of those sailors who manned the rude
8*
178 NAEKATIVE.
barks of the Cinque Ports first made the flag of England terrible on
the seas. Then it was that the most ancient colleges which still
exist at both the great national seats of learning were founded.
Then was formed that language, less musical, indeed, than the lan-
guages of the south, but in force, in richness, in aptitude for all the
highest purposes of the poet, the philosopher, and the orator, in-
ferior to that of Greece alone. Then, too, appeared the first faint
dawn of that noble literature, the most splendid and the most dura-
ble of the many glories of England."
33. VI. A History is appropriately commenced with
the Geography of the country.
It is not an historian's province to teach Geography. Still,
as few readers are well versed in the Geography of any country,
and as the writer of a history knows exactly what are the geo-
graphical features that concern the events to be related, he does
well to preface his work with a sketch adapted to his own ends.
The other method of attaining the object — to introduce the
local descriptions piecemeal, as they are wanted — is less com-
patible with a comprehensive view. In auy case, an acquaint-
ance with localities is essential to realizing the events graphi-
cally, and gives them an additional hold on the memory. Be-
tween Geography and History there is a mutual support.
The physical features of the country constitute the first part
of the delineation, — the coasts, plains, mountains, rivers, fertile
and barren tracts, mines, vegetation, animal life, &c. Then fol-
lows what it is now usual to call the Political Geography — the
races that inhabit the country, their distribution, their industry,
the towns, the government, &c.
In such a detail, opportunities may be found of disburden-
ing the future narrative of explanations necessary to compre-
hend the events. Such matters — pertinent to all national
movements — as the industiy and resources of the country, the
character and habits of the population, the political system, or
the working of the government, are to be understood once for
all, and are merely to derive confirmation from the progress of
the history.
34:. YH. Considered as unfolding the progress or
civilization of a people, and thereby furnishing political
HISTORY OF NATIONAL PROGRESS. 179
and moral lessons, a History might be conceived as a
series of delineations or cross sections of a nation's ex-
istence, selected from different epochs, with an interme-
diate narrative to show how the one passed into the other.
Mere existence does not provide matter for history in the
above sense. If a people maintain the precise routine of their
fathers in the limits of their abode, in their industry, their
usages, their knowledge and beliefs, and all their institutions,
the life of such a people is exhausted by a single delineation ;
they have a geography, but not a history. This state of things
is commonly, though incorrectly, attributed to the Chinese. It
is more true of other Asiatic nations, and of the tribes every-
where reputed savage. Highly dramatic incidents and struggles,
and the lights and shades of human life, would still appear, and
might be seized hold of by a poet-historian, but the only mate-
rial for the politician or the political philosopher would be the
fact that certain institutions could co-exist, and might possibly
have the more intimate bond of cause and effect.
35. The entire mode of existence of a people at any
one epoch would require to be exhibited under well-
defined heads.
By different historians the institutions of a complete society
are differently classed. We append one mode as an example : —
It being assumed that the physical constituents, or geo-
graphical features, of the country are fully set forth, and the
natural characteristics of the population understood, the insti-
tutions may be described in order as follows : —
(1.) The Industrial Arrangements. The Industrial con-
dition not only gives the action of the people on the materials
presented to them by surrounding nature, and their efforts for
the first necessaries of life, but also reflects light upon their in-
telligence and their degree of advancement, and penetrates a
good way into their social relations, many of which, as master
and servant, buyer and seller, grow out of their industry. A
full description of the agricultural, mining, commercial, and
180 NARRATIVE.
manufacturing operations, mates us already familiar with a
large part of a nation's life. It shadows forth the distribution
of the people in towns and villages, the means of communi-
cation, and a considerable portion of the legislative, adminis-
trative, and judicial acts of the Government.
In connection with the material industry, we may treat of
the more intellectual professions — the priest, the teacher, the
physician, the legal adviser — all which are interesting in them-
selves, and suggestive of many other important points.
(2.) There can be no society without a Government.
The political head of the state, whether one person or more,
stands forth in various relations to other states, which relations
history seizes by preference. The constitution of the Govern-
ment needs to be fully described for each epoch. When this
has greatly changed between two epochs, there is always scope
for narrative and explanation.
The extent of liberty granted to the individual citizen is a
vital part of the political system.
The operations of the governing body fall under three heads :
Legislative, or the permanent regulations known as the Laws ;
Administrative, or the daily conduct of such affairs as are man-
aged by the central authority ; and Judicial, or the forms and
processes of distributing justice, in civil suits and in the punish-
ment of criminals. The Legislation can be described only in a
general manner, unless it be very simple and primitive ; but
many of its details come out in the delineation of the other de-
partments of society.
The account of the Government must include local author-
ities, as well as the central, and the extent of the sphere allotted
to these, — in other words, the degree of centralization of po-
litical power.
The System of Ranks is a political institution ; for, although
rank is sometimes found to mean only precedence, yet, in its
first foundations, it must be associated with temporal or spiritual
authority.
(3.) The Family. '
The laws and usages connected with marriage, and the re-
CIVILIZED INSTITUTIONS. 181
spective positions of man, woman, and child, in the family sys-
tem, are points of vital interest. In all societies, the domestic
life covers a large part of each person's existence ; and in some,
as in ancient Rome, the family is a nnit of the state, containing
vv-ithin itself an absolute authority, vested in the head. The
Patriarchal family, was, like the Roman, the framework and
foundation of the political system.
(4.) The arts of Social Intercourse.
By these we understand, first, the machinery of communi-
cation, — roads, vehicles, shipping, <fcc. — requisite alike for indus-
try, for government, and for the pleasures of society ; secondly,
the forms of social co-operation, or the rules for facilitating
collective action ; and thirdly, the courtesies of social life.
(5.) Morality.
The actions counted moral or immoral by a community dif-
fering greatly in different ages, it is expedient to embody, 1st,
the moral code, and 2nd, the prevailing degree of strictness or
laxity in complying with it. Both the one and the other are
highly characteristic of particular periods of history.
(6.) Religion.
Religion comprises a system of doctrines relating to the
nature and the dispensation of a supernatural government ; and
a ritual, or the ceremonies observed as religious worship. There
being usually a class of men set apart to ascertain and teach the
doctrines, and to perform the leading part in the ceremonial
observances, some account of this body, — the priestly or spirit-
ual power — should also be given.
(7.) The state of Science, or the highest kinds of knowledge.
The scientific knowledge possessed in any one age and
country is not expected to be described by the political his-
torian. All countries capable of receiving it, participate in
the existing science of the world ; and its different stages are
traced in a history apart, having an interest peculiar to itself.
Still, the position and spread of science or philosophy in a coun-
try at a given epoch, the applications it has given rise to, and
above all, the diffusion of the scientific spirit or methods, are
of the highest significance.
182 NARRATIVE.
(8.) Literature and the Fine Arts.
The refined and elegant accomplishments, the inventions for
extending and elevating the pleasures of the community, are
worthy to be recorded by the historian. In other words, the
progress made in Poetry, Painting, Sculpture, Architecture,
Decorative Art, the Drama, Polished Manners in Society, Music
— is a distinct thread in the network of a people's existence.
(9.) The Art of Living.
After describing these various resources available for the se-
curity and happiness of a community, the historian would still
find something to say as to their application and adjustment,
under a certain plan or theory of living. The ordinary routine
of mixed occupation and pleasure, the arrangements of dwellings,
the indoor and outdoor amusements and recreations, the social
enjoyments, and all other means resorted to for giving zest to
human existence, — would be the completion of the full-life de-
lineation now chalked out.
It is not to be supposed possible to obtain the materials
needful to complete the above scheme, for any far back period.
Macaulay regrets that he has not the means of picturing an
ordinary English parlor and bedroom two hundred years ago.
Nevertheless, it is desirable to know what things are required
for a full delineation, and how to arrange advantageously what-
ever information is procurable. Many historical facts are ob-
tained by a painful indirect process, the importance attached
to them being the stimulus ; and there is no reason to suppose
that this method has reached its limits in any case. A survey
of all the institutions of a complete social state, with a view to
finding out their mutual dependence, is the preparation for this
indirect or inferential method of ascertaining what is not on
actual record.
As an example of a detailed analysis of society, we may
refer to the account of the Hindoo Institutions, in the first
book of Mill's History of British India. Another will be found
in the delineation of Grecian life, in the Homeric times, by
Grote ; who has also, in detached sketches, presented many
carefully ascertained views of Greek society in the best known
EXAMPLES OF HISTOEICAL ANALYSIS. 183
epochs. The French historians, Guizot, Thierry, Michelet, afford
many partial glimpses of the Middle Ages. De Tocqueville's
work on the state of France before the Revolution of 1789,
contains a minute and searching inquiry into the particulars of
French life and society in the last century. Macaulay's inter-
esting picture of the state of England in the 17th century is
well known. Becker's Charicles and Gallus give, the one for
Greece and the other for Rome, an analysis of the state of society
in ancient times ; the facts being stated both methodically and
in the form of a tale, — attempts worthy of imitation. Many
fictitious narratives have been written, reproducing more or less
accurate pictures of life in the past, the Ivanhoe of Scott hav-
ing given the lead.
The History of Herodotus has the great merit of presenting
an array of trustworthy delineations of the varied social systems
of the 5th century, b. c. The Commentaries of Caesar are a
storehouse of similar information in regard to the countries
where he carried his arms.
In narratives that have to record a series of intellectual
struggles — as Church History, the History of Philosophy, and
Constitutional History — it is well to provide at the outset a
summary view of the points in dispute, or the various principles
contended for at different times.
36. Historical style draws upon the arts of both Ex-
position and Poetry.
Under the scientific aspect of History, general views are con-
stantly put forth regarding men, nations, institutions, modes of
social action. These are the subjects of exposition by iteration,
examples, and illustrations, according to their importance or
abstruseness.
Under the aspect of human interest, or as a work of Fine
Art, a History is arranged with a view to involution of the
plot, dramatic situations, and effective contrasts ; and is accom-
panied besides with an elegant and elevated diction. Gibbon,
Macaulay, Helps, Froude, and Carlyle, are distinguished for the
prominence they give to this aspect of historical composition.
184 NARRATIVE.
37. Much of what has been said on History applies,
with allowances, to Biography.
A Biography professes to give the experience of a life, and
may therefore bring to view and illustrate important truths
respecting man's physical and mental nature. The examples
presented to us in the lives of prominent men and women may
have various bearings. They may instruct us how to preserve
health (see, for instance, George Combe's Life of Andrew
Combe), to attain knowledge and culture (the Lives of Philos-
ophers, Scholars, Poets, &c), to play a part in public affairs, to
prosper in business, to regulate our families, or to do good in
our generation.
Most commonly Biography gratifies our interest in some dis-
tinguished person, and is the more acceptable, the more it is
invested with the colors and touches of Poetry.
38. The Environment, or surrounding circumstances,
physical and social, must be regarded as necessary to the
delineation of a life.
Natural constitution and outward circumstances united are
our means of explaining both a man's character and his career.
The surroundings are no less demanded in a picture aiming only
at poetic interest.
39. The form of Narrative occurs in Science and
Poetry, as well as in History and Biography.
The Physical Sciences represent the operations of the world
under the law of Cause and Effect. It is, however, in the sciences
of Evolution, that we have the most characteristic examples of
narrative. The growth of a plant, or of an animal, has to be
recounted according to the rules of narrative.
In Poetry, narrative is much more abundant than descrip-
tion. The Epic poem and the Drama are based on story. Even
descriptive themes are often bandied by narrative devices.
Homer describes the elaborate shield of Achilles, not by the
direct method of Type and Enumeration, but by relating the
steps of its manufacture, in the hands of its divine fabricators.
0EDEE OF EVENTS. 169
again to threaten the nations that he had previously conquered.
The rest of Europe prepared to resist him. An array composed of
English, Germans, Belgians, and Dutch, assembled and marched by
the Low Countries to the French frontier.
22. It is sometimes best to commence by describing
a recent state of things more familiar to tbe persons ad-
dressed, and then to point ont by what previous steps
that state was arrived at.
In this case also, the inversion of the order of time has a
view to the explanation of the event. It corresponds to a rule
in teaching science, requiring us, before propounding an expla-
nation or solution, to state clearly the point to be explained, or
the problem to be solved.
There could not be a better preparation for studying the
history of Great Britain than a full acquaintance with all its
existing institutions. Knowing exactly the state of things to
be accounted for, we should be more alive to the flow of events
that contributed to produce it.
This method is not unsuited to the case of nations that have
ceased to exist. A full account of the Roman world in the age
of Augustus might, not improperly, precede the early history
of Rome.
In Geology, this plan is followed with advantage. It may
be seen exemplified in Ly ell's Elements, and in his Antiquity
of Man.
23. II. It is necessary to provide for tbe narration
of Concurring Streams of Events.
There are several distinct modes of concurrence.
(1.) A principal action, with subordinates ; as in a
campaign, in the history of a single country or of a col-
lective interest, and in any complex proceeding where
detached operations are carried on. In Eomance and
the Drama, subordinate events are essential to the plot.
Here the art consists in upholding the prominence of the
main stream of the narrative. In relating the subordinate trans-
actions, the historian has to make apparent their subordination.
8
170 NARRATIVE.
The forms of language announcing the transition from the prin-
cipal current to the minor streams, and back again, should be
explicit. The separation into distinct chapters contributes to
the same end.
24. In imitation of the descriptive art, it is possible
to give a comprehensive scheme, or plan, of the events,
principal and subsidiary.
Many narratives may be brought under the similitude of the
tree. Not merely the genealogy of families, but the progress of
colonization, the diffusion of races, and the spread of languages,
are adapted to this representation.
Carry le draws upon his usual boldness of metaphor to sup-
ply these comprehensive narrative plans. We quote a few speci-
mens : — The Royalist army at Worcester, pressed by Cromwell,
is a lion in the folds of a boa ; the confused politics of Poland
in the end of the 17th century, he styles the Polish Donnij-
brook fair ; George II., distracted by opposite alliances, is the
Hanoverian white horse between seven sieves of beans.
Helps, aware of the peculiarly involved nature of the his-
tory of American discovery by the Spaniards, tries various de-
vices for grappling with it. He remarks, on the occasion of a
passing reference to the third voyage of Columbus : —
" This voyage will have, hereafter, to be carefully recounted.
I am so convinced, however, that the best chance for the reader to
remember any of the entangled history of the discovery and settle-
ment of Spanish America is to have it told to him according to
place, and not to date, that I entirely postpone all farther allusion
to Columbus, until that part of the coast which he discovered be-
comes important in the general narrative."
25. (2.) Concurring streams of nearly equal import-
ance ; as in the History of Greece.
In this instance, we may be said to have a plurality of his-
tories, embraced in the same work. In Grecian history, for ex-
ample, Athens, Sparta, Argos, Thebes, Corinth, &c, the Asiatic,
the Italian, and the Sicilian Greeks, — pursue for the most part
their independent career, broken only by their mutual conflicts.
CONCUEEING STEEAMS. 171
The historian of collective Greece has to execute his task by
a series of distinct narratives.
26. (3.) The case of two or more contending parties.
Hostile operations introduce a new element to perplex
and complicate the narrative.
In depicting warfare, or any species of contest, the historian
narrates sometimes from one side, and sometimes from the
other. Now it is essential to a clear understanding of the oper-
ations that the change of position should be open and declared.
Actual conflict involves both parties ; and there is great danger
of bringing about confusion in the picture, by passing in a
stealthy manner between the two sides. An eye-witness, like
Kinglake at the Alma, retains his point of view throughout ; a
compiler from various witnesses differently stationed is liable to
those furtive transitions of scene. The most obvious course
seems to be to describe the preparations first on one side and
then on the other ; and, during the shock of battle, to adhere
to one point of view. This is the usual method of Carlyle. In
describing the battle of Prag, he gives a fall account of the
preparations on the part of the Austrian s, and then makes the
transition thus : — " TTe will now return to Friedrich ; and will
stay on his side through the terrible action that is coming."
27. (4.) The plurality of departments in the same
historical unity.
A nation plays many parts at one time. Its Foreign rela-
tions, which are its wars, diplomacy, and colonization, figure in
the history of the world. Even when they do not absorb the
historian's attention, they are usually recounted apart. The
Internal or Domestic history is itself open to subdivision. The
struggles to determine the Government, or the Political Consti-
tution, rank first in prominence. There may be other questions
that stir the whole life of the nation, and afford an exciting
theme of narrative ; such are the Revolutions in Religion.
After these, come the subjects of quieter interest ; Administra-
tive improvements, and the progress of Literature, Art, and Sci-
172 NARRATIVE.
ence. Although the various currents of events must often come
together, it is the practice of the best historians to follow them
separately. As in battles, so in all other cases of action and re-
action, a view from both sides is desirable. The conduct of a
war is affected by the vicissitudes of political parties at home ;
Religious Revolutions are entwined with Literature ; Adminis-
trative changes (Police, Pauperism, Education, Commercial
Policy) are at the mercy of all other influences; still, the
separation of the parts conduces to the understanding of the
whole.
28. III. The detail of events should be relieved and
assisted by summaries.
We have already noticed the use of the summary to prepare
for the commencement of a narrative. Its application is much
more extensive. It is the comprehensive view that embraces
the details in an organized whole such as the mind can retain.
No department of composition having a host of particulars to
present, is able to dispense with this aid.
An example from Helps is worthy of being given entire : —
" The narrative, after many turnings and windings, in the diffi-
cult navigation of affairs at court, has now come to that point
where Las Oasas, having conquered his troubles in Spain, was ready
to start for the Terra-firma, tolerably well equipped with all the
things that were necessary for a great enterprise of colonization in
that part of the world. It remains to be seen how far the Terra-
firma was ready to receive him ; and whether there would be that
concurrence of favorable circumstances upon which success in any
enterprise depends, or at least without which success is in the
highest degree difficult. For this purpose, it is necessary for the
writer to go back a long way in the history of the Indies, to resus-
citate Columbus, who had now for many years found the true rest
of the tomb, and to describe, at some length, the discovery and
settlement of that part of the Terra-firma which had been granted
by the King of Spain to the Clerigo, Las Casas.
" Nay further, to bring the subject with anything like com-
pleteness "before the mind of the reader, it will be advisable to an-
ticipate the Spanish Conquest, and to make some endeavor, at
least, to describe the inhabitants of the coast of Cumana (otherwise
called the Pearl Coast), and their mode of life, before they lad seen
the face of a white man. Hitherto, in the course of this narrative,
when the word 'Indians' has occurred, it has conveyed little
SUMMARIES. 173
more information than if the words ' savages,' ' aborigines,' or
' copper-colored men,' had been used. And, indeed, so much is
our knowledge of different tribes intermingled and confused, that
it would be presumptuous to say with respect to any account given,
even after the utmost research, of the inhabitants of any particular
part of the coast, that it was exactly faithful. Still, some attempt
must be made ; and, as there was a general resemblance in the
languages spoken by the adjacent tribes, even though they could
not understand each other, so in the life of these several tribes
there was a general basis of accordance, which we must en-
deavor to bring before our minds, if we would take the full in-
terest in their story which its importance to the world demands
for it."
29. The framing of summaries — called also, abridg-
ing, abstracting, — is an important art, and is conducted
in a variety of ways. (See Paut I., chap, ii.)
Sometimes it corresponds to scientific generalization,
which is the only perfect mode of summing up an array
of particulars.
The law of universal gravity is a summary of the fall of
bodies to the earth, the round figure of the earth, the tendency
of the planets to the sun, &c. The law that supply follows de-
mand, is an abridgment of the phenomena of trade.
In many cases, the art of condensation turns upon
discriminating the essentials ; which is not possible
without a full knowledge of the subject.
In historical narration, the condensed summary is
commonly made by passing over many of the connect-
ing links.
The beginning and the end of a long transaction are briefly
given, with or without a few selected points in the unfolding of
the plot, "Great Britain imposed an obnoxious tax on her
American colonies ; they resisted, fought, and made themselves
independent " — is an easy abridgment of the events of several
years.
It being unadvisable to anticipate the plot, summaries are
not given to start with. They are usually retrospective. They
substitute for the numerous windings of the narrative the larger
174 NARRATIVE.
features and the main results ; they are the heads, abiding in
the memory themselves, and helping the cohesion of the details.
A summary of the previous events opens a new chapter with
advantage : and is all the more called for, when there has been
a considerable break in the thread to be resumed. In merely
recurring to the past, in the course of the narrative, a brief
summary is the surest mode of reference. (See p. 172.)
30. IY. The Explanatory Narrative is, by its nature,
a mixture of narration, strictly so called, with general
principles.
The statemeut of a principle may either precede the recital
of the events to be thereby cleared up, or be introduced at the
close of the narrative.
When the explanation is of some length, occupying one or
more paragraphs, the progress of the narrative is wholly sus-
pended. The shorter explanations take the shape of interpo-
lated sentences and clauses. Parenthetic clauses are often re-
sorted to. (See pp. 137-141, and Extract X.)
31. Y. Before attempting to define more narrowly
the method of Historical Composition, we have to con-
sider its ends.
And, first, in point of Instruction, History furnishes
an array of facts or experience in human nature, more
especially in its social workings. It is the inductive
basis, and the illustration by example, of the doctrines
that regulate man in society ; a knowledge of which is
what we mean by political wisdom.
History is to us the trial of Institutions. The Absolute
Monarchies, Limited Monarchies, Aristocracies, Democracies,
represented in operation, are so many experiments as to the
best form of government ; and we judge them by their fruits.
We can study and compare centralization and localization of
authority ; large states and small ; slavery and free labor ; castes
and equality ; Paganism, Mahometanism, and Christianity ;
Catholicism and Protestantism ; state-control in education and
INSTRUCTION FROM HISTORY. 175
its absence. By interpreting, wisely or unwisely, all this ex-
perience, states are guided in the choice of their Own institu-
tions.
The following is a political lesson deduced by Gibbon from
the History of Imperial Rome : —
" The division of Europe into a number of independent states,
connected, however, with each other by the general resemblance
of religion, language, and manners, is productive of the most bene-
ficial consequences to the liberty of mankind. A modern tyrant,
who should find no resistance either in his own breast or in his
people, would soon experience a gentle restraint from the example
of his equals, the dread of present censure, the advice of his allies,
and the apprehension of his enemies. The object of his displeasure,
escaping from the narrow limits of his dominions, would easily ob-
tain, in a happier climate, a secure refuge, a new fortune adequate
to his merit, the freedom of complaint, and perhaps the means of
revenge. But the empire of the Romans filled the world ; and,
when that empire fell into the hands of a single person, the world
became a safe and dreary prison for his enemies. The slave of Im-
perial despotism, whether he was condemned to drag his gilded
chain in Rome and the senate, or to wear out a life of exile on the
barren rock of Seriphus or the frozen banks of the Danube, ex-
pected his fate in silent despair. To resist was fatal, and it was
impossible to fly."
Helps says : — " The history of almost every nation tells of
some great transaction peculiar to that nation, something which
aptly illustrates the particular characteristics of the people, and
proclaims, as we may say, the part in human nature which that
nation was to explain and render visible. In English history,
the contest between the Crown and the Parliament ; in that of
France, the French Revolution ; in that of Germany, the re-
ligious wars, — are such transactions."
And again : — " History seems often to be only a record of
great opportunities missed or mismanaged. Amid the tumult
of small things which require immediate attention, and which
press at least fully as much upon persons in great place as upon
private individuals, the most important transactions are not ap-
preciated in their true proportions. Besides — and this is the
fatal circumstance — when great affairs arc in their infancy, and
are most tractable to human endeavor, they then appear of the
smallest importance ; and all consideration about them is lost in
176 NARKATIVE.
attending to the full-blown events of the current day, which,
however, are rapidly losing their significance."
The lesson of Grecian History is thus set forth by Grote : —
" The poets, historians, orators and philosophers of Greece, have
all been rendered both more intelligible and more instructive than
they were to a student in the last century ; and the general picture
of the Grecian world may now be conceived with a degree of fidel-
ity, which, considering our imperfect materials, it is curious to con-
template. It is that general picture which an historian of Greece
is required first to embody in his own mind, and next to lay out
before his readers ; a picture not merely such as to delight the
imagination by brilliancy of coloring and depth of sentiment, but
also suggestive and improving to the reason. Not omitting the
points of resemblance as well as of contrast with the better-known
forms of modern society, he will especially study to exhibit the
spontaneous movement of Grecian intellect, sometimes aided but
never borrowed from without, and lighting up a small portion of a
world otherwise clouded and stationary. He will develop the
action of that social system, which, while ensuring to the mass of
freemen a degree of protection elsewhere unknown, acted as a
stimulus to the creative impulses of genius, and left the superior
minds sufficiently unshackled to soar above religious and political
routine, to overshoot their own age, and to become the teachers of
posterity."
The teachings of History are not confined to the merits of
the institutions tested. They enforce, besides, the dependence
of society on the virtues of the individual members, governing
or governed : they read moral lessons even more unequivocally
than political. Hence reflections of a moral kind are abun-
dantly strewed over the historian's page. Froude, alluding to
the vocation of history, makes these observations : —
" The history of this, as of all other nations (or so much of it as
there is occasion for any of us to know), is the history of the bat-
tles which it has fought and won with evil ; not with political evil
merely, or spiritual evil ; but with all manifestations whatsoever of
the devil's power. And to have beaten back, or even to have fought
against and stemmed in ever so small a degree those besetting base-
nesses of human nature, now held so invincible that the influences
of them are assumed as the fundamental axioms of economic science;
this appears to me a greater victory than Agincourt, a grander tri-
umph of wisdom and faith and courage than even the English con-
stitution or the English liturgy."
32. Secondly, as regards Interest, or the gratifica-
EXPOSITION. 185
This evades the difficulty of realizing a complicated description,
and sets before the reader the easier task of following a detailed
succession. (See Poetry.)
CHAPTER III.
EXPOSITION.
40. Exposition is the mode of handling applicable
to knowledge or information in the form of what is
called the Sciences, as Mathematics, ^Natural Philos-
ophy, Chemistry, Physiology, Natural History, the Hu-
man Mind.
The sciences just named are called Theoretical or Pure, being
each arranged on the plan of exhausting, in the most systematic
array, all the information respecting one department of nature.
There are other sciences, in a great measure derived from the
foregoing, and having reference to practice, or some end to be
attained ; as, Navigation, Practical Mechanics, Medicine, Logic,
Ethics, Politics, Jurisprudence.
The principles of Exposition are in the main the same for
both classes, keeping in view their different objects.
41. While bent on realizing the property that alone
gives value to anything called knowledge, or informa-
tion, — namely, that it shall be true, or certain, — Science
is further characterized by the attribute of Generality, or
Comprehensiveness.
Knowledge may be composed of individual facts ; as, "Rome
was sacked by the Gauls,'' " The earth's circumference is nearly
3^- times its diameter," " The great pyramid of Egypt is a stable
structure : " or of statements comprehending many individuals ;
as, " Conquering hosts prey upon their victims," " The circum-
ference of a circle is about 3*- times the diameter," " The form
of the pyramids gives stability."
186 EXPOSITION.
These last statements are general ; they have the character
that is at once the glory and the difficulty of science. The other
attribute, superior certainty, or truth, does not necessarily make
scientific knowledge less intelligible ; although it too sometimes
involves cumbrous qualifications and technical symbols. But
information, when of a highly generalized sort, is, in the vast
majority of instances, taken into the mind with labor, and needs
all the aids that method can afford.
42. Individual facts are the foundation of the gener-
alities, and are therefore essential to the structure. And
as the generalizing process can be shown to yield three
distinct products, we have, in all, four constituent ele-
ments of science, which are as follows : —
I. Individual objects, facts, or observations.
II. Objects classified according to some common
property, to which a general name may be applied, and
which admits of being accurately defined. This opera-
tion may be called, for our present purpose, Definition.
All known things agreeing in the round form are brought
together in the mind ; a general name — round, or circle — is ap-
plied to them ; and we are able farther to frame a definition for
precisely expressing this property. So with river, city, man,
virtue, &c. This process is sometimes called generalizing a
notion.
III. The regular concurrence of two natural proper-
ties, disclosed by a comparison of particular concur-
rences, may be expressed in a General Law, Proposition,
or Affirmation. This is Induction.
Exposition is principally occupied with these general laws,
principles, or propositions. The statement of individual facts,
and the definition, are in a manner subsidiary to them.
TV. A proposition resulting, not from the comparison
of particulars, but from applying a more general prop-
osition already established, is said to arise by Deduction.
GEXEEAL TRUTHS. 187
As will be seen, the deductive statement frequently appears
in arguments, or reasons adduced in proof or in disproof of
some allegation.
43. "With or without the name, we have something
of the reality, of science, whenever knowledge is ex-
pressed generally.
TTe have the whole reality, when the pains usual in science
have been expended in testing the truth of the general propo-
sition. But there are many generalities current in ordinaiy
conversation and business, too little tested, and too loosely
worded, to deserve the name of science. Still, such as they
are, the mode of expounding them is the same as in the case
of the more vigorously established principles. The partially
correct maxims — M Prosperity makes friends, and adversity
tries them," " Unlimited power vitiates the character," " Age
blunts the faculties and the powers of enjoyment," " Govern-
ments resting on fear alone are unstable," — would receive the
same expository handling as the most precise doctrines of the
physical or other sciences.
The strivings and energies of men have always been towards
general truths. The multitude of details presented in nature
would overwhelm the human faculties, but for the similarities
or repetitions traceable throughout, and the consequent power
of summing up many facts in a single affirmation. The result-
ing advantages are undeniable, but the generalities themselves
are often of an abstruse nature, and not to be understood with-
out difficulty. The mind is adapted to comprehend the indi-
vidual and the concrete ; the general necessarily partakes of the
abstract.
44. That each individual fact and every General
principle should be expressed clearly, and as simply as
may be, is no more than is required in all the modes of
communication by language.
45. In the statement of Individual facts by them-
selves, there is nothing peculiar to science. Thev take
188 EXPOSITION.
their place in scientific exposition, as aids to our under-
standing of the generalities.
46. The first Generalized element is the Notion, or
general property. This often stands in need of ex-
planation.
Many lengthened expositions are concerned, not with prin-
ciples or laws, but with single ideas, notions, or abstractions :
Justice, Right, Civilization, Poetry, Philosophy, Nature, are a
few examples.
47. Whatever is necessary either to determine the
meaning of a notion, or to render it intelligible, may be
included under Definition.
As two notions at least always enter into a principle, propo-
sition, or truth, Definition must be preliminary to the determin-
ing and expounding of principles. Before we can deal in any
way with the proposition that " Liberty causes the prosperity
of nations," we must clearly understand the notions Liberty
and Prosperity.
48. (l.j We define by producing individual or con-
crete instances. This is the method of Particulars.
As every general element, whether notion or proposition,
grows out of the comparison of particulars, the direct mode of
enabling the mind to grasp it, is to bring forward the particulars,
or an adequate selection of them.
Thus we may explain the notion of Roundness, by producing
a number of round bodies, varying in size and material. To
explain Liquidity, we show, or refer to, a series of liquids. To
give the meaning of Solution, a sufficient variety of instances
are cited. We may expound Beauty, by adducing a number
of beautiful things ; Poetry, by mentioning known poems ;
Law, by different examples of laws.
Physical science has to explain the highly generalized prop-
erties, Inertia, Motion, Velocity, Equilibrium, Elasticity, Polar-
ity, Electricity, Heat.
DEFINING BY PARTICULARS. 189
Chemistry has to deal with one grand property, among
others, known as Affinity, or Chemical Union.
Physiology deals with Cells, Vital Force, Assimilation, &c.
In the Human Mind, we have numerous high generalities,
Feeling, Thought, Volition, Conscience, Beauty.
In the Political Sciences occur Government, Law, Social
Order, Civilization, Liberty, Right, Democracy, &c.
In the Natural History sciences, where classification prevails,
the properties of a class can be shown by referring to the mem-
bers or species composing it. The class Coniferce is defined by
what is common to its members.
Barrow's famous definition of wit is an enumeration of the
subordinate kinds or species. The explanation by this mode
would be carried to its utmost by a selected array of witticisms,
sufficiently numerous and various to represent everything that
comes fairly under the name.
49. (2.) By indicating the quality opposed to, or ex-
cluded by, the one in question. This is the method of
Antithesis or Contrast.
AntitQjBsT^'has^ai already' exemplified among the Figures.
Its force grows out of the essential doubleness of all knowledge,
a doubleness disguised by the forms of language. When we
mention heat, it is unnecessary to add, what only completes the
statement, the absence of cold. The filling up of this ellipsis is
often, however, an aid in the exposition of general or abstract
properties, or notions.
Thus, we might complete the definition of a Liquid, by men-
tioning its two contrasts, the Solid and the Gas. " Straight" is
defined by its opposite, bent or crooked. "Round" would
have to be opposed to all the other simple forms, to the right-
lined figures, and to the curves of varying curvature. " Trans-
parent " is the opposite of opaque. " Poetry " is sometimes
contrasted with prose, but still better, according to Coleridge's
antithesis, with science.
In explaining such difficult notions as " Self" and " Disin-
terestedness," we should find the present method of great value.
190 EXPOSITION.
50. To the particulars coming under a notion to be
explained, we may add the particulars of the opposed
notion or notions.
We may explain Transparency, first by enumerating the
transparent bodies — water, glass, the various crystals, air, &c. ;
and next by an enumeration of Opaque substances ; thus defin-
ing the separate notions both by their particulars, and by their
mutual contrast.
It does comparatively little good to produce a mere formal
negative, made up by applying the negative prefixes to the
positive : as, straight, not-straight ; prudent, imprudent ; just,
unjust. The contrasting words Unjust, Injustice, are of use only
on the supposition that they can suggest to the mind a number
of the particulars opposed to those coming under Just, Justice.
This suggesting power is more likely to be connected with
names independently formed ; thus " savage " is of greater ser-
vice than " un-civilized " in defining Civilization by contrast.
51. (3.) In the case of a complex notion, we may
define or explain by stating the constituent notions.
This is the method of Analysis ; it is also the Yerbal
Definition.
There are some notions of a simple or ultimate nature. Such
are Resistance (Force), Motion, Line, Form, Quantity, Likeness,
Difference, Succession, the characteristic feelings of the senses —
Tastes, Odors, Touches, Sounds, Sights, — the simple emotions
— Wonder, Fear, Anger, Love, &c. These we can conceive
only by actual experience of individual instances. By remind-
ing us of these particular experiences, any one may enable us
to recognize their agreement, which matter of agreement is the
notion, or generality. By being farther reminded of particular
instances of the contrasting notion in any case, we shall be still
better impressed with the common property in question. Re-
sistance is opposed to unimpeded energy, and by considering
examples of both, we attain the notion of each.
But the vast majority of our notions are complex, being
DEFINING BY ANALYSIS. 191
made up of such simple elements as the foregoing. Now, on
the supposition of our perfect mastery of all the elementary
conceptions, we ought to be capable of understanding all com-
pounds, when their component parts are mentioned. Yeiy often
we are able to do so. And hence it is part of the business of
an expositor, to define or explain by Analysis, or enumeration
of parts.
Thus a Circle is defined as " a plane figure contained by one
line everywhere equidistant from a point called the centre."
Here an appeal is made to our knowledge of certain constituent
notions, as plane figure, line, equality of distance, point : these
we are supposed previously to know ; and by putting them to-
gether as prescribed, we attain the notion of the circle.
This is the method of mathematical definition throughout.
Indeed, mathematicians have incautiously applied it to the sim-
plest notions of the science, as " point," " line," in defining
which they perform the inverted operation of explaining the
simple by the complex; point being a simpler idea than posi-
tion, or magnitude ; and line, the concrete, than length, the
abstract.
So in Physical Science : — " Elasticity " is " the power of
bodies to recover their form after compression ; " we are sup-
posed to understand the more elementary notions of power,
bodies, recovery, compression.
Again, in the Mental and Moral Sciences. While, in them,
there are certain ultimate notions, as Feeling, Discrimination,
&c, by far the greater number are complex, and may be defined
by analysis, or verbally. For example, " Memory is the power
of recalling to the present view of the mind past impressions
without the renewal of their original cause, or by mental forces
alone." " Veneration is a feeling drawn out towards beings of
superior power, wisdom, and goodness, and constituted by the
feelings of manifested power, wonder, fear, and love."
To refer to Political Science : — " Law is a general command
by one intelligent being to another, followed by the infliction
of pain in case of disobedience." " Property is the recognition
in each person of a right to the exclusive disposal of what he
192 EXPOSITION.
lias produced by his own exertions, or received by free gift or
by fair agreement from such as have produced it."
52. The scholastic mode of defining by " the genus
and the difference " {per genus et differentiam) is only a
mode of expressing the definition by Analysis.
When we define Mathematics as " the science of quantity,"
we assign the two simpler notions, supposed to be already un-
derstood, science and quantity ; in other words, we define by
Analysis. But the old logicians remarked that in such defini-
tions there are (1) some one term more general than the thing
defined, and (2) one or more other terms of specification apply-
ing exactly to the difference between the thing and the genus.
Thus " science " is more comprehensive than " Mathematics,"
including as it does other subjects also — Chemistry, Natural
History, &c. Hence, after assigning the class or genus,, science,
we must say wherein Mathematics differs from all other mem-
bers of the class, or all other sciences, namely, in having for its
subject-matter Quantity : this is the " difference " and completes
the definition.
All the foregoing examples could be resolved according to
this method : — A circle is " a plane figure contained by one
line" (genus), which line differs from other lines in being
" everywhere equidistant from a certain point " (difference).
53. Although the method of Analysis, for complex
notions, may be all that is demanded in strict rigor, yet
we often require to superadd an explanation by the other
methods.
Being made up of purely abstract elements, the definition
by analysis is not always readily comprehended ; whence it has
to be aided by particulars and by contrast. Thus, " Elasticity,"
besides being scientifically defined by analysis, is rendered
easier of understanding by a series of examples of elastic
bodies — a piece of India rubber, a spring, an ivory ball, a blad-
der of air, &c. — and by counter reference to non-elastic sub-
stances, as clay.
GENERAL PRINCIPLE, OR PROPOSITION. 193
The concrete method is not entirely excluded even from
Mathematics, the science of abstraction by pre-eminence. In
Arithmetic, the formation of numbers is illustrated, on the Pes-
talozzian system, by pebbles arranged in rows.
So Property, or Law, or Justice, may be defined by analysis
(or by genus and difference), and explained by particulars and
by contrast.
5±. The second, and the chief, scientific element is
the Proposition, Principle, or General Affirmation ; as,
" Heat expands bodies," " All matter gravitates," " Exer-
cise strengthens the body and the mind."
Even the Notion is commonly expounded as it appears in
33me Proposition, that is, as coupled with some second notion ;
for example, " Gravity varies inversely as the square of the dis-
tance." It is rare, although it might be advantageous, to sep-
arate the defining of the notion from the truth or falsehood of
the affirmations respecting it. The notion, in fact, is of value
as preparatory to the proposition, which alone amounts to
knowledge.
55. We have now to consider the methods of ex-
pounding the General Principle, or Proposition.
I. By Iteration, or by repeating the statement of the
principle in the same or in different words.
It being the nature of a principle to give information respect-
ing a wide range of particulars in a few words, a single enun-
ciation of those words is not enough to impress the meaning
adequately. The oral expounder repeats the exact words of a
proposition several times ; he may vary the statement besides.
The writer confines himself to the last method.
The following is an example of iteration : —
u Bias is not a direct source of wrong conclusions ; the intellect
must first be corrupted" [short statement of the principle, followed
by a series of varied expressions of it]. " We cannot believe a
proposition only by wishing, or only by dreading, to believe it (1).
The most violent inclination to find a set of propositions true, will
not enable the weakest of mankind to believe them without a ves-
9
194 . EXPOSITION
tige of intellectual grounds, without any even apparent evidence
(2). Though the opinions of the generality of mankind, when not
dependent on mere habit and inculcation, have their root much
more in the inclinations than in the intellect, it is a necessary con-
dition to the triumph of a moral bias that it should first pervert the
understanding (3). If the sophistry of the intellect could be ren-
dered impossible, that of the feelings, having no instrument to
work with, would be powerless (4)."
56. There should always be one chief statement of
the principle, for which the natural place is the com-
mencement, although it may not improperly be given at
the end.
"Whately remarks that of two expressions of a principle
differing in length, we understand the diffuse, and remember
the concise.
The iterations should all harmonize with the main statement,
according to the Second law of the Paragraph.
Iteration might be applied to the Definition likewise, when
very abstruse or highly concentrated.
In some writers, and in some subjects, iteration is the pre-
vailing form of exposition. Much of Adam Smith's Theory
of Moral Sentiments is of this character. Without actually
quoting examples in the concrete, the mere variation of the lan-
guage is calculated to suggest them.
57. II. By Obverse Iteration, or the Counter-propo-
sition denied.
As, from the nature of knowledge, every notion has some
other notion (or notions) opposed to it (light — darkness, straight
— crooked), so to every proposition affirmed there corresponds
some other proposition (or propositions) denied. " This room
is light ; " " This room is not dark." " Socrates was wise ; "
" Socrates was the reverse of foolish." " All our knowledge is
obtained from experience ; " "We have no intuitive knowledge."
The affirmation and the denial in these cases are not different
meanings, but the same meaning differently viewed and ex-
pressed. To the statement denied when anything is affirmed,
Ferrier has given the name " Counter-proposition ; " and the
BY OBVERSE ITERATION. 195
denial of this, "which is equivalent to the original affirmation,
may be called Obverse Iteration.
As examples of Obverse Iteration we may give the follow-
ing: — " Heat expands bodies ; " "Cold contracts bodies." "Heat
relaxes the frame ; " " Cold braces it." " Exercise improves the
powers of body and of mind ; " " Inaction or neglect deteriorates
the same powers." These double statements are, strictly speak-
ing, the complements of each other ; the first implies the sec-
ond ; and therefore the mention of the second is the repetition
of the first from another side, or from the obverse aspect.
" Socrates declares justice to be good, or a cause of happi-
ness, to the just agent, most of all in itself — but also, addition-
ally, in its consequences ; and injustice to be bad, or a cause of
misery to the unjust agent, both in itself and also in its con-
sequences."
58. All that lias been advanced respecting the power
of antithesis, or contrast, in making things definite and
clear, applies to the Connter-proposition and the Obverse
statement.
In the counter-proposition, the contrast or opposite of the
predicate is given. " This man is a Briton ; " " This man is an
alien" In the obverse affirmation, the counter-proposition is
denied, which gives an equivalent of the original proposition ;
" This man is not an alien ; " Briton and not alien being the two
obverse expressions for the same attribute.
In cases such as " Heat expands bodies," " Cold contracts
them," both the subject and the predicate are obverted; heat —
cold, expansion — contraction.
When it is said, " The poet is born, the orator is made,"
the obversion is essential to the meaning of the statement ; we
should not know in what senses the words poet and horn were
intended, but for the statement of what they are put in contrast
with.
Instead of merely iterating the principle, " Every effect has
a cause," we might more properly set down the counter-propo-
sitions denied ; for there are more than one. These are, first,
196 EXPOSITION
" Events arise without any cause," and secondly, " The same
causes do not produce, in the same circumstances, the same
effects." Both these propositions are implicitly denied in the
Law of Causation ; yet their explicit statement greatly adds to
the clearness of the principle.
It has been urged with great force by Ferrier, in his Institutes
of Metaphysics, that the statement of the counter-proposition is
a means of exposing errors, especially such as are sheltered un-
der vagueness of language.
It is sometimes said "Might is right;" what does this
deny? Right has many meanings, and as many opposites.
If the opposite meant is wrong, the obverse would be " Might
is seldom or never applied in support of wrong," — a statement
that would not be so readily hazarded.
Take again the proposition — "The standard of Art is
Nature." What is denied by this? On examining the use
made of the maxim, we find the obverse is, " The standard of
Art is not Nature badly imitated." In other words, the prin-
ciple is, when Art imitates Nature, it should imitate well and
not ill.
The style of the book of Proverbs abounds in obverse iter-
ation ; see chaps, xii., xiii., &c.
59. III. By Examples, or Particular Instances. This
must always be the leading method of expounding gen-
eral principles.
To quote from Physical Science. The statement of the First
Law of Motion, — the perseverance of movement once begun, — is
followed up by a number of cases or examples of this perse-
verance. " A large spinning top, with a fine hard point, set in
rapid motion in a vacuum, on a hard smooth surface, will con-
tinue turning for hours." " A pendulum swinging in a vacuum
has to overcome only the slight friction at its point of suspen-
sion, and, when once in motion, will vibrate for a day or more."
" The earth's rotation maintains itself without diminution," &c.
See also Extracts XIII., XVI.
BY EXAMPLES. 197
60. "When the sole object is to make an abstruse
principle intelligible, as in pure scientific exposition, the
examples must be chosen on the following grounds : —
(1.) The j must themselves be intelligible or familiar
to the persons addressed.
(2.) Their number is to be regulated by the difficulty
and the comprehensiveness of the principle.
(3.) They should be at first simple, and in the end
complicated, so as to show the force of the principle in
explaining matters of difficulty.
(4.) They are not to contain distracting accom-
paniments.
This last is the hardest condition to satisfy, and yet the
most imperative. To obtain a series of examples bearing di-
rectly and evidently upon one principle, yet not suggesting any
matter away from the purpose, constitutes the chief labor of the
expositor.
61. The particulars are sometimes mentioned first,
and the generality last, as in the order of discovery.
This gives a stimulus to the learner to find out the prin-
ciple for himself, and creates a kind of suspense, or plot
interest.
See an example in Extract XI.
62. The extreme case is an example showing the
principle, as it were, in an exaggerated form. (See
Hyperbole.)
Hume, in maintaining that men possess genuinely disinter-
ested impulses, and revolt from inflicting gratuitous pain, puts
an extreme instance thus : — " Would any man, in walking along,
tread as willingly on the gouty toes of another man that he has
no quarrel with, as on the hard flint and pavement ? "
Plato puts the question as to pleasure being the sole end of
life (unfairly) in this extreme form : — " You are to be without
thought, intelligence, reason, sight, memory ; you are not to
198 EXPOSITION
have any opinion as to present enjoyment, any remembrance
of past, or anticipation of future ; you are to live the life of an
oyster, with great present pleasure.''''
" If we wish to know the nature of the species hard" says
Plato again, " we should look to the hardest things."
63. A principle is sometimes embodied in a concrete
example.
Paley states the question " whether the moral sentiment be
innate " by mentioning a painful incident in Roman History,
and supposing it propounded to a certain wild boy caught in
the woods of Hanover. In the same work, wTien inquiring into
the foundations of Moral Obligation, he selects the special duty
of Truth to try the point upon : — " Why am I obliged to keep
my word ? " A writer on the Immortality of the Soul puts the
question under an individual case : — " Is Socrates alive now ? "
Adam Smith's exposition of the principle of Division of Labor
is embodied in the manufacture of a pin.
64. There are many generalities that are wanting in
the characters of science ; they are but vague approx-
imations to certainty, and their degree of generality
does not make them technical or abstruse. They serve
the literary ends of popular interest as much as, or more
than, the scientific end of truth.
As we pass from science in its highest rigor of numerical
precision and infallible prediction — the truths of Mathematics,
Astronomy, Mechanics, and Chemistry — to the subjects of Life,
Mind, and Society, the increasing complication and the absence
of numerical estimate render the principles less definite and
certain, although they are still of the scientific class. In Phys-
iology and the Natural History departments, in the Human
Mind, in Politics, Political Economy, and Jurisprudence, we
frequently find high generalities, considerable precision of lan-
guage, and careful verification ; so that these branches still par-
take of the characters of science. But in Ethics, Criticism,
History, Human Character, and commonplace Politics and
BY ILLUSTRATIONS. 199
Education, the generalities are for the most part of the loosest
kind, and often serve merely as a framework for poetical and
literary illustration. The maxims of mind, character, and con-
duct, usual in poetry, would fall under this head.
The popular literary essay, as we find it in Bacon, Addison,
Johnson, Goldsmith, Macaulay, Helps, and in the magazines and
reviews of our own day, is a combination of general principles,
ethical, critical, historical, political, &c, with poetic interest.
The generalities, when not instigated by urgent practical needs,
are thrown into the form best adapted for elegance and adorn-
ment. See Extract XIV.
65. In delineating character, and in Criticism, the
expository methods, although still predominant, are
greatly modified.
The methodical delineation of character, to be scientific,
would require to be based on a general scheme of character,
uniformly applied to each case. But under any mode of de-
lineation, it is an obvious maxim that the points should be
grouped under distinct heads, according to natural connection,
and not scattered at random. See Extracts III., XII.
The same remarks are applicable to Criticism. There is a
scientific mode founded on the systematic application of gen-
eral principles, and a mode determined by the wish to produce
a work of art
66. IV. By Illnstrations, as distinguished from Ex-
amples.
It has been seen that the Figures of Similarity — as the
simile and the metaphor — are largely used for assisting the un-
derstanding, that is, for making plain what is naturally difficult
or obscure. Two things, in their nature different, may yet have
such an amount of similarity that the one shall cast light on
the other.
In the sciences of the first group above enumerated — Math-
ematics, Astronomy, Mechanics, Optics, Chemistry, &c. — the
illustrations principally employed are of a severe type ; they
200 EXPOSITION
are such as diagrams, models, and sensible representations of
what eludes the senses. Mathematical points and lines are
made visible to the eye. The rays of light, the vibrations of
sound, and the still finer undulations of the ether, are given in
the same palpable form ; indeed, the undulations of the as-
sumed etherial medium have been represented by Wheatstone
in a mechanical model. The supposed ultimate atoms of bodies
are studied upon balls and circles of tangible and visible di-
mensions.
Comparisons drawn from one science to another are frequent.
A body, like nitrogen, that does not readily combine, will be
termed by a chemist inert. The mechanical distinction of
statical and dynamical, and the notions of equilibrium, moving
power, resistance, are widely diffused in sciences where the
phenomena are not mechanical.
A still greater approach to figurative comparison is found
even in these rigid sciences. The mutual cohesion of atoms of
one substance, as copper, tiu, water, salt, is kindred attraction ;
the attraction between the atoms of two different substances, as
in an alloy of copper and tin, or a solution of salt in water, is
alien attraction. "When a body is submitted chemically to the
operation of the ordinary tests, the chemist speaks of its deport-
ment. The human body is the house we live in ; the brain is the
dome of thought. Physiology, says Haller, is animated anatomy.
In the sciences of the second rank — Natural History, Geog-
raphy, Physiology, Mind, Logic, Politics, Political Economy,
Jurisprudence, &c. — the severe methods are relieved by figura-
tive comparisons.
In the Human Mind, metaphorical illustration is abundant
and often misleading. According to one view, the infant intel-
ligence is a tabula rasa, where experience inscribes everything;
another view is expressed under the similitude of a prepared
plate in photography. See Extract II.
Plato's doctrine that the body obstructs the soul, is com-
bated by Kant, through the simile of a dove cleaving the thin
air, and supposing that in a vacuum its movements would be
more rapid.
BT ILLUSTRATIONS. 201
Whately advises an orator, when deep-rooted prejudices are
to be overcome, not to make a refutation stronger than is barely
sufficient, and adds this illustration : in driving wedges into a
block of wood to split it, too hard a blow will throw out the
wedge.
Political doctrines have always been subjects of illustrative
comparisons. In Burke's hands, they are sometimes buried
under a load of similes and metaphors ; see § 105.
In Political Economy, the law that demand follows supply
is illustrated by sayiug, " the two find their level."
In subjects of the third class above mentioned — Ethics,
Criticism, Character, Philosophy of History — where generali-
ties are still found, but of a vague character, interest is sought
after, no less than instruction, and the illustrations are still more
addressed to the feelings.
It has been a constant endeavor to combine ethical instruc-
tion with the interest of poetry. So criticism, in literature and
in art, instead of being a severe and cold enunciation of princi-
ples, is itself decorated with the figures of imagination. Both
the one and the other have been repeatedly chosen as the sub-
jects of poems.
67. Although at the risk of repetition, we shall here
make a general remark applicable to the expository nse
of both examples and metaphors addressed to the feel-
ings.
It is naturally desired to soften the rigors of scientific
exposition by elements of pervading human interest.
The sources of interest proper to science are chiefly these :
the attainment of trustworthy knowledge for the purposes of
life ; the sense of power imparted by the great and command-
ing generalities ; and the feelings touched by the special objects
of science as objects of sense — the stars, the geological up-build-
ing of the earth, the mineral forms, and the variety of vegetable
and animal life. There is also the excitement of narrative and
plot in the history of science, and in watching the course of
discovery. The united effect of these influences is not suffi-
9*
202 EXPOSITION.
cient for inducing men in general to undergo the labor of the
abstruser sciences. Hence the endeavors to widen the sphere
of attractions by other charms,— those that form the distinc-
tion of Poetry.
Plato made the first attempt on a grand scale to relieve the
severity of philosophical discussion with touches of general
human interest. He adopted the form of the Dialogue, to in-
troduce the action and re-action of personalities, as in the
Drama. Before commencing the discussion of a question, he
brings the speakers forward in a scene, with minute circumstan-
tials of time and place, such as we witness on the stage. (See,
as examples, the Charmides, the Cratylus, and the opening of
the Republic.) The following short specimen, from the Dia-
logue called Phcedrus, serves as the introduction to an inquiry
into the truth of mythology : —
" Phcedrus. Dost thou see that very tall plane-tree ?
Socrates. Certainly I do.
Phcedrus. There is shade there, and the wind is not too strong,
and there is grass to sit, or, if we like, to lie down.
Socrates. Lead on, then.
Phcedrus. Tell me, Socrates, is it not from some place here,
they say that Boreas carried away Oreithyia from the Ilissos ?
Socrates. So they say.
Phcedrus. Should it not be from this spot ? For the waters
seem so lovely and pure and transparent, and as if made for girls
to play on the bank.
Socrates. No, it is two or three stadia further down, where
you cross over to the Temple of Agra. There you find somewhere
an altar of Boreas.
Phcedrus. I was not aware of this ; but tell me, by Zeus, U
Socrates, dost thou believe this myth to be true ? "
In the Platonic Dialogues, sublimity, pathos, poetic beauty,
humor, are produced by turns, as in a poem ; while their avowed
purpose is to ascertain philosophic truth. The cross-question-
ing operation of Socrates is exhibited upon a great variety of
opponents ; and the debate is interrupted by dramatic displays
of personal feeling.
68. The chief scope for extraneous interest is in the
choice of examples and illustrations.
Among the Platonic arts of exposition we must include ex-
LIMITS OF ILLUSTRATION. 203
amples and similes, which often excite other emotions than
those belonging to science. The painful effect of the cross-
questioning of Socrates, is compared to the shock of the torpedo.
Again, Socrates represents himself as seeking the good of his
fellow-citizens, and not captivating them by showy arts ; and
hence, if brought to trial for his conduct, he would be like
a physician arraigned by the confectioner before a jury of
children.
The ass of Buridan, held in suspense between the equal at-
tractions of two bundles of hay, is an immortal illustration of
the equipoise of motives in the human will. The humorous
representation of George II., in 1741, quoted from Carlyle on
p. 170, is an extension of this figure.
Paley's famous simile of the pigeons, in illustration of the
nature of private property, is calculated to gratify the invidious
sentiment felt towards the holders of property by those that
have none, — an emotion altogether extraneous to science.
Locke's affecting illustration of the fading of our recollec-
tions is given in Extract II.
The sentiment of wonder is often appealed to.
The antiquarian interest of Geology is highly stimulating.
Slight occasions of personal feeling will arise in the driest
expositions. An allusion to a great discoverer, an expression
of esteem or of contempt, of approbation or of disapprobation,
of sympathy with the learner's difficulties, will impart unction
and give a passing relief to the tension of the mind.
69. With regard to the employment of illustrations
for expository ends, the conditions and limitations al-
ready prescribed, under Figures of Similarity (p. 26),
are fully applicable.
If the illustrations are sought exclusively for the sake of
clearness, that is, if the ends of feeling and fancy are set aside,
there is little danger of a wrong choice ; the suitability must be
evident to any one that attends to the matter. It is under the
pressure of the extraneous motive of general human interest,
that darkening illustrations are resorted to.
204 EXPOSITION.
In the best scientific writings, illustrations of a highly figura-
tive nature are brought in only at considerable intervals ; the
exposition being chiefly made up of iteration, example, &c.
The due medium is thought to be realized in many of the
Dialogues of Plato, although in regard to some the critics of his
own country, whose taste on such a point was consummate, have
charged him with excess.
The following short paragraph from Dr. Whewell has been
praised as a specimen of philosophic style. It begins with a
statement, follows up with an example, and closes with a happy
illustration.
" The type-species of every genus, the type-genus of every fern-
fly, is, then, one which possesses all the characters and properties
of the genus in a marked and prominent manner. The type of tbe
Kose family has alternate stipulate leaves, wants the albumen, lias
the ovules not erect, has the stigmata simple, and besides these
features, which distinguish it from the exceptions or varieties in its
class, it has the features which make it prominent in its class. It
is one of those which possess clearly several leading attributes ;
and thus, though we cannot say of any one genus that it must be
the type of the family, or of any one species that it must be the
type of the genus, we are still not wholly to seek : the type must
be connected by many affinities with most of the others of its
group ; it must be near the centre of the crowd, and not one of the
stragglers."
The next extract is a paragraph from Mr. Samuel Bailey,
expounding the great principle of the remission or alternation
of pleasures. It proceeds by iteration, examples, and illustra-
tions, and will reward a careful study.
" Wit and humor, it must be allowed, may be sometimes out of
place, and sometimes carried to excess. This, however, is a liabil-
ity which they share with other excellent things, and cannot be
brought as a specific objection against them, although it maybe
against the works in which they appear. Enjoyment of every kind
must, of course, have intermission; and the more exquisite the
pleasure, the more is a suspension required. We sicken at per-
petual lusciousness : we loathe the unvarying atmosphere of a
scented room, although 'all Arabia breathes' from its recesses.
'The breath of flowers,' as Bacon beautifully observes, 'is far
sweeter in the air, when it comes and goes like the warbling of
music, than in the hand.' Even the rich illustrations which fancy
scatters over the page of the orator or the poet, may be crowded
on each other too fast. In eloquence, in fiction, in poetry, in every
CALLING ATTENTION TO DIFFICULTIES. 205
work intended to yield high and permanent pleasure, the body of
the work must undoubtedly be something solid, something ad-
dressed to good sense or earnest feeling. The figurative decora-
tions must appear no more than elegant foliage, or beautiful convo-
lutions, surrounding the steadfast columns of thought and sentiment.
Poets of mere imaginative power, however dazzling, who have not
possessed considerable strength of intellect, have never been able
to keep a high place in public estimation. For a while we are
pleased to rise above the earth, and wing our way through the at-
mosphere of fancy ; but we soon grow weary of an excursion
which is all flight. In defiance of Bishop Berkeley, we must have
a world of solid matter to alight and repose on."
70. Y. By calling attention to the special difficulties
of the matter expounded.
It may be of the greatest use to show the precise difficulties
that an exposition is intended to meet ; an interest is aroused,
and the ingenuity is put on the alert to judge of the attainment
of the end proposed. Paley, in the preface to his Moral Phi-
losophy, remarks : —
" Concerning the principle of morals, it would be premature to
speak; but concerning the manner of unfolding and explaining
that principle, I have somewhat which I wish to be remarked.
An experience of nine years in the office of a public tutor in one
of the universities, and in that department of education to which
these chapters relate, afforded me frequent occasions to observe,
that, in discoursing to young minds upon topics of morality, it re-
quired much more pains to make them perceive the difficulty, than
to understand the solution ; that, unless the subject was so drawn
up to a point, as to exhibit the full force of an objection, or the ex-
act place of a doubt, before any explanation was entered upon, —
in other words, unless some curiosity was excited before it was at-
tempted to be satisfied, the labor of the teacher was lost. "When
information was not desired, it was seldom, I found, retained. I
have made this observation my guide in the following work : that
is, upon each occasion I have endeavored, before I suffered myself
to proceed in the disquisition, to put the reader in complete posses-
sion of the question ; and to do it in a way that I thought most
likely to stir up his own doubts and solicitude about it."
The Socratic cross-questioning operation resulted in a pain-
ful sense of ignorance, which was the best preparation for the
attainment of real knowledge.
71. YI. The Proof of a principle indirectly con-
tributes to its exposition.
206 EXPOSITION.
In the first place, the mere iteration or expansion incident
to the proving of a doctrine is a means of impressing it.
In the next place, by seeing what the proofs are able to
establish, we have a check upon the meaning and extent of the
principle.
Thirdly, it is an additional advantage when the proof is
made to include the statement and disproof of the counter-
proposition or propositions ; as happens in a well-conducted
polemical exposition.
The methods of Proof fall under Logic. They are either
Inductive or Deductive ; the one is proof from facts, the other
from the application of some higher or more general law. That
cloven-footed animals are herbivorous can be proved only by
induction ; that the path of a comet is a conic section can be
proved deductively as well as inductively.
It would often contribute to clearness of exposition to ar-
range the proofs of a fact or doctrine according to their logical
method. Thus under Induction, it has been shown by Mr. J. S.
Mill that there are four modes of bringing facts to bear upon
the proof of a general proposition ; he calls them the Four
Experimental Methods (Agreement, Difference, Concomitant
Variations, Residues). If there are any facts under Agreement,
they might be stated first and apart ; next those under Dif-
ference, and so on. These Experimental or Inductive Proofs
would be followed by the Deductive, or the assigning of the
higher generality that includes under its sweep what is to be
proved. See Persuasion.
These four methods imply the possibility of establishing a
point as certain. In a vast number of instances, however, and
many of them of the highest importance, the evidence is only
probable. Here, too, Logical method would be of great service.
Probable evidence is usually a concurrence of separate probabili-
ties, each having an assignable value ; the summing of them up
being a well-understood arithmetical process. The best order,
whether for Proof or for Exposition, would be first to set forth
the distinct probabilities, and then to combine the sum into a
joint probability.
APPLICATIONS OF PRINCIPLES. 207
Exposition by Proof is a part of Persuasion, and is named
Argument.
72. YII. Inferences, Deductions, Corollaries, Appli-
cations, Consequences, may be drawn from principles,
and may serve still further to elucidate them.
To turn a principle to immediate account by deductive ap-
plications, necessarily engages our interest in it, besides having
the same efficacy as the proofs in expanding it to the mind, and
in determining its precise import. The corollaries of a geomet-
rical proposition contribute to clear up and impress the propo-
sition ; and the like holds all through science, and through the
less scientific generalities.
Thus the First Law of Motion is practically applied to the
beating out of dust, and to the drying of a mop ; and these are
good as examples in expounding the principle.
The doctrine of the Expansion of Bodies by heat has a wide
range of applications, both to the unravelling of difficult phe-
nomena, as the winds, and to processes in the arts.
The constitution of the Council and the Agora in early
Greece is expounded by Grote with reference to its conse-
quences, in the following paragraph : —
" There is yet another point of view in which it behoves us to
take notice of the Council and the Agora as integral portions of the
legendary government of the Grecian communities. We are thus
enabled to trace the employment of public speaking as the standing
engine of government and the proximate cause of obedience, to the
social infancy of the nation. The power of speech in the direction
of public affairs becomes more and more obvious, developed, and
irresistible, as we advance towards the culminating period of Gre-
cian history — the century preceding the battle of Chseroneia. That
its development was greatest among the most enlightened sections
of the Grecian name, and smallest among the more obtuse and sta-
tionary, is matter of notorious fact ; and it is not less true, that the
prevalence of this habit was one of the chief causes of the intel-
lectual eminence of the nation generally. At a time when all the
countries around were plunged comparatively in mental torpor,
there was no motive sufficiently present and powerful to multiply
so wonderfully the productive minds of Greece, except such as
arose from the rewards of public speaking. The susceptibility of
the multitude to this sort of guidance, their habit of requiring and
208 EXPOSITION.
enjoying the stimulus which it supplied, and the open discussion,
combining regular forms with free opposition, of practical matters,
political as well as judicial, are the creative causes which formed
such conspicuous adepts in the art of persuasion. Nor was it only
professed orators who were thus produced. Didactic aptitude was
formed in the background, and the speculative tendencies were sup-
plied with interesting phenomena for observation and combination,
at a time when the truths of physical science were almost inacces-
sible. If the primary effect was to quicken the powers of expression,
the secondary, but not less certain result, was to develop the habits
of scientific thought. Not only the oratory of Demosthenes and
Perikles, and the colloquial magic of Socrates, but also the philo-
sophical speculations of Plato, and the systematic politics, rhetoric,
and logic of Aristotle, are traceable to the same general tendencies
in the minds of the Grecian people ; and we find the germ of these
expansive forces in the senate and agora of their legendary gov-
ernment."
Remark in the concluding sentence the employment of the
Interesting Example. ..
See also Extract XIII.
73. The Expository Paragraph has certain pecu-
liarities, growing out of the nature of science. In the
ordinary form of composition, there are no means of in-
dicating successive degrees of subordination ; and we have
to consider the best modes of overcoming the defect.
In a sentence, there may be apparent a principal and sub-
ordinate clauses ; but, in a paragraph, all the sentences are, to
the eye, of equal or co-ordinate value.
In a technical scientific work, subordination is indicated, (1)
by indenting the letter-press, (2) by the forms of the numerical
characters employed, — I., II., 1, 2, (1), (2), a, b, &c, and (3) by
difference of type.
When such devices are not resorted to, we have to trust, in
a great measure, to the sense of the passage for deciding what
is co-ordinate and what subordinate. Further assistance may
be obtained, by attention to the following points : —
(1.) The theme of the paragraph, to which all the rest is
ministerial, should be found at the beginning, at the end, or in
both.
(2.) Iteration gives prominence, and therefore superiority.
THE EXPOSITORY PARAGRAPH. 209
The circumstance that a thing is stated many times over, leads
us to infer that it is more important and probably more com-
prehensive than the things stated only once.
(3.) When facts are plainly made known as examples or
illustrations of a theme, they are thereby declared to be in sub-
ordination to that theme.
(4.) Statements of the second degree of subordination
should, if possible, be included in the same sentence as their
immediate principal ; it being inexpedient to constitute distinct
sentences of three different grades in the paragraph.
(5.) After descending to a second, or to a still lower, degree
of subordination, we should avoid returning to the higher grade
in the same paragraph.
(6.) A separate paragraph may be devoted to a series of
examples or statements of a low, but uniform, degree of sub-
ordination. This is much better than mixing up the different
degrees without change of paragraph.
(7.) It is possible to intimate by our phraseology when we
pass from one degree of generality to another : — " The following
facts come under this principle ; " " We give examples, or cases,
of the rule ; " " The subordinate laws are these," &c.
A subordinate statement may happen to be difficult of un-
derstanding, but we are not at liberty to expand it by iteration
or otherwise, so as to raise it out of its rank. To study clear-
ness in the expression, or to append some brief example or illus-
tration, is all that the case allows.
Mr. Herbert Spencer has introduced a division intermediate
between the Sentence and the Paragraph, marked by a blank
of about half an inch between two sentences.
The arts of relief are essential to Exposition throughout.
Monotony can neither keep up attention nor impress the mem-
ory. Even when the subject is made up naturally of monotonous
or co-ordinate particulars, means must be used to raise some of
them into relief. Thus in the details of Anatomy — the muscles,
blood-vessels, &c. — certain leading functions are indicated, as,
in reference to the muscles, the two great facts of the erecting
and the bending of the body.
210 EXPOSITION.
14:. The leading form of trie Expository Paragraph
(and of Exposition generally) is the statement of a prin-
ciple, followed by such a choice of iterations, obverse
statements, examples, illustrations, proofs, and appli-
cations, as the case may require.
Other forms of Paragraph are the Inductive (§ 61)
and the Argumentative.
The simplest form of Argument is the adducing of a general
principle in support of a particular allegation. The fact is af-
firmed that the freezing of water in a close tube will make it
burst ; the principle adduced in proof is that water in freezing
expands with great force. There is in this nothing different
from the ordinary type of Exposition, except an inversion, — the
fact being stated first, and the principle afterwards.
An Argument may contain a succession of steps, called a
chain of reasoning, and is then more difficult to follow. The
precautions to be observed in this case are to reduce the num-
ber of steps to the fewest possible, and to give an adequate
expression to each, yet so as to allow the whole to be grasped
together. It is in such complicated reasonings that the rules
of the Sentence and the Paragraph justify their importance.
Paley says : —
" Property improves the conveniency of living. It enables man-
kind to divide themselves into distinct professions, which is impos-
sible, unless a man can exchange the productions of his own art for
what he wants from others; and exchange implies property. Much
of the advantage of civilized over savage life depends upon this.
"When a man is from necessity his own tailor, tent-maker, carpenter,
cook, huntsman, and fisherman, it is not probable that he will be
expert at any of his callings. Hence the rude habitations, furniture,
clothing, and implements of savages, and the tedious length of time
which all their operations require."
The chain of reasoning here is perplexed. The steps are
these : — 1st, Individual property enables one man to exchange
valuables with other men. 2nd, Exchange allows division of
labor. 3rd, Division of labor makes men more expert in their
several avocations, and so increases the produce of labor. The
reasoning would be apparent either in this order, or in the in-
AN EVIL. 211
verted order : — " The productiveness of labor is very much
increased by the division of labor, or by each man's devoting
himself to a separate avocation. Now this involves the possi-
bility of exchanging the productions of labor ; but there can be
no exchange without the right of property." Paley's own lan-
guage might be adapted thus : — " Much of the superiority of
civilized life depends upon the division of labor. When a man
is his own tailor, tent-maker, carpenter, cook, huntsman, and
fisherman, it is not probable that he will be expert in any one
of these callings ; among savages the habitations, furniture,
clothing, and implements are of the rudest kind, and the con-
struction of them is very tedious. Now this division of labor
cannot take place unless one man can exchange the productions
of his own art for what he wants from others ; and exchange
implies property." See also Extract XV.
75. One cause of the difficulty of understanding
science is the novelty of many of the terms employed.
Apart from the abstruseness of the notions, the mind is op-
pressed by the introduction of unfamiliar terms, sometimes in
great numbers and in close succession. This should, as far as
possible, be considered in the exposition ; a certain time being
allowed for one strange word to become familiar before bring-
ing forward others.
It is scarcely necessary to remark that new language is in
itself an evil.
76. In scientific exposition, it is imperative to observe
the general maxim of proceeding from the known to the
unknown.
In describing an object of Natural History, or in expounding
a great principle, reference should be made, in the first instance,
to the existing knowledge of those addressed ; all which should
be rendered available in bodying forth the new matter.
No one has more assiduously endeavored to avoid unneces-
sary technicalities of language, and to turn to account the pre-
vious knowledge of the general reader, than Dr. Arnott in his
Elements of Physics.
212 PERSUASION.
CHAPTER IV.
PERSUASION.
77. Peestjasion, or Oratory, is the influencing of
men's conduct and belief by spoken or by written
address.
Men are variously moved. Outward compulsion may deter-
mine their conduct. As free beings, they follow their natural
activity, their sense of good and evil, their passionate excite-
ment, and the lead of others by imitation or sympathy. Ora-
torical persuasion endeavors to obtain the co-operation of those
free impulses for some proposed line of conduct, by so present-
ing it in language as to make it coincide with them. A leader
of banditti knows that his followers are moved by a desire for
plunder and considerations of personal safety ; and it is his busi-
ness to show that a certain wealthy house or a travelling party
can be attacked with success. The engrossing patriotism of the
old Romans required only the appearance of danger to their
country to immerse them in the cost and perils of war. A
Christian assembly will be prepared to further any cause that
is clearly identified with the spread of Christianity.
It is supposed that the persons addressed do not, at the out-
set, see a subject as the speaker sees it ; otherwise they would
not need persuasion. Either they are intellectually blind to the
connection between the case supposed and their own principles
of action, or they are under the pressure of some opposing
forces.
78. We must consider first the Ends of Oratory.
These might be classified in various ways.
If we were to advert to the forces brought into conflict, we
should find that, in one department, the aim is to set up a man's
dimly represented future against the impetuous demands of the
present, which is what we designate Prudence ; in another class,
ENDS OF ORATOBY. 213
the selfish impulses are to be opposed by the disinterested re-
gards, which is to fortify Social Virtue.
Practical convenience is served by a reference to the differ-
ent occasions of Oratory ; each giving rise to a distinct method
and constituting a separate professional study.
79. I. The Oratory of the Law Courts.
The pleader in criminal causes has to persuade a judge and
jury to find an accused person guilty or innocent. In civil
causes, the design is to show that one of two litigants in a dis-
puted matter has the law on his side. In both these endeavors,
what is termed Argumentative Oratory must bear a chief part,
while (in the first more especially) there is also scope for work-
ing; on the feelings.
80. II. Political Oratory.
This wide department may be defined as the art of persuad-
ing some society, or body of people, or a nation at large, to
adopt, for the general good, some one line of policy, rather
than another. Such is the Oratory of Congress, Parliament,
and all deliberative assemblies, whether great or small, national
or local, whether consulting for the general welfare or for nar-
row and special objects.
The end now described assumes a twofold aspect, constitut-
ing two different kinds of Persuasion. These are well stated
in the following passage from AYhately : —
" In order that the Will may be influenced, two things are re-
quisite; viz. 1. that the proposed Object should appear desirable;
and 2. that the Means suggested should be proved to be conducive
to the attainment of that object; and this last evidently must de-
pend on a process of Reasoning. In order, e. g., to induce the
Greeks to unite their efforts against the Persian invader, it was ne-
cessary both to prove that co-operation could alone render their re-
sistance effectual, and also to awaken such feelings of patriotism
and abhorrence of a foreign yoke, as might prompt them to make
these combined efforts. For it is evident that, however ardent
their love of liberty, they would make no exertions if they appre-
hended no danger;" or if they thought themselves able, separately,
to defend themselves, they would be backward to join the confed-
eracy : and on the other hand, that if they were willing to submit
to the Persian yoke, or valued their independence less than their
214 PERSUASION.
present ease, the fullest conviction that the Means recommended
would secure their independence, would have had no practical effect.
"Persuasion, therefore, depends on, first, Argument (to prove
the expediency of the Means proposed), and secondly, what is usu-
ally called Exhortation, i. e., the excitement of men to adopt those
Means, by representing the End as sufficiently desirable. It will
happen, indeed, not unfrequently, that the one or the other of these
objects will have been already, either wholly or in part, accom-
plished ; so that the other shall be the only one that it is re-
quisite to insist on ; viz., sometimes the hearers will be sufficiently
intent on the pursuit of the End, and will be in doubt only as to
the Means of attaining it ; and sometimes, again, they will have no
doubt on that point, but will be indifferent, or not sufficiently
ardent, with respect to the proposed End, and will need to be
stimulated by Exhortations. Not sufficiently ardent, I have said,
because it will not so often happen that the object in question will
be one to which they are totally indifferent, as that they will, prac-
tically at least, not reckon it, or not feel it, to be worth the re-
quisite pains. No one is absolutely indifferent about the attain-
ment of a happy immortality ; and yet a great part of the Preacher's
business consists in Exhortation, i. e., endeavoring to induce men to
use those exertions which they themselves know to be necessary
for the attainment of it."
When people are indifferent to the end, we have to work
upon their feelings. As regards the choice of means, we ad-
dress the reason or understanding, which alone can judge of the
fitness of means to ends.
It is impossible, by any mode of address, to overcome a rad-
ical difference of view as to the supreme social or ethical ends.
If one man believes in the paternal theory of government, and
another in individual liberty as the highest end, there is scarcely
any possible way of bringing the one over to the opinion of the
other. As in argument, so in oratory generally, there must be
some common ground to work upon. In the discussion of
truth and falsehood, the common ground is certain first prin-
ciples admitted by both parties ; in moving to action, the com-
mon ground is an admitted end.
Political oratory comprises the speeches in Congress, Parlia-
ment, and in all meetings for discussing public affairs ; articles
in the newspaper and periodical press relating to the policy of
governing bodies ; separate publications bearing on the same
subject ; and diplomatic correspondence.
ENDS OF ORATORY. 215
81. III. Pulpit Oratory.
A leading aim of the oratory of the pulpit must always be
to cultivate and strengthen a class of feelings, or emotions, those
of religious devotion and of moral duty. The Apostles, and the
missionaries that converted the nations to Christianity, aimed
at an immediate object, and worked a sudden change in the
minds of men. The same is true of the Reformers. But after
a religious creed is established in a community, the preacher
educates gradually far oftener than he converts suddenly.
The pulpit orator sometimes urges men to immediate action;
as a well-known instance, we may refer to the preaching of the
Crusades.
The religious feelings are cultivated by acts of worship and
by the addresses of the preacher.
82. IV. Moral Suasion.
Exhortation to good conduct, while it falls within the prov-
ince of pulpit oratory, also appears in other departments of
composition. In addresses directed more especially to the
young, whose characters are unformed, the endeavor is to im-
press them with the maxims of prudence, and the obligations
they are under to society. Much of the literature of popular
interest is shaped so as to convey these lessons indirectly, and
therefore more effectually : such are History, Biography, Po-
etry, and Romance. King Alfred endeavored, says Hume, to
convey moral lessons by apologues, parables, stories, and
apothegms, couched in poetry.
Prudential exhortation must proceed by vividly depicting
the good or evil consequences of actions to the agent's own self.
The deepening of the social regards in men's minds in-
volves a wider range of appeal.
83. The next matter for consideration in Oratory is
Knowledge of toe Persons addressed.
If all men were constituted exactly alike, and were always
in the same mood, a speaker would need only to judge from
himself how to move others. But such is the disparity of
216 PERSUASION.
human characters, that no small time is expended in gaining
a thorough knowledge of any considerable number of men.
The case that most dispenses with express study of charac-
ter, is presented by a fraternity whose members are strongly of
one mind on the most important questions. In such a body,
each one, by speaking as he feels, carries the rest with him.
Cromwell could put forth a commanding oratory when he ad-
dressed his fellow Puritans.
Every speaker has necessarily much- in common with his
hearers. It is, however, a natural weakness for us to suppose
other persons actuated in all things like ourselves.
The young do not comprehend the feelings of the old ; the
one sex is often at fault in judging of the other. The rich and
the poor, the noble and the plebeian, the educated and the un-
educated, the professional worker and the manual worker, the
members of distinct professions, have each peculiarities not
readily understood by the rest. Natural temperaments differ
greatly ; the man of energy and pushing enterprise is at a loss
to adapt himself to the views of the cautious and circumspect
man ; the abundance of feeling in some characters is incompre-
hensible to those of a different mould. Moreover, different
temperaments may pervade different masses ; an American and
an English, a French and a German audience, are not influenced
in the same way.
An important department remains : namely, the intellectual
condition of the persons addressed, comprising the nature and
extent of their acquired knowledge, and their practical maxims
in the conduct of affairs. A man's acquired knowledge, coupled
with his ability of comprehension, must regulate the manner
of addressing him for all purposes — for informing, persuading,
or pleasing. As regards persuasion more especially, the ac-
quired knowledge and experience of a hearer, besides being a
check upon the averments of the speaker, constitute the foun-
dation circumstance of the plausible in address.
For oratorical ends, knowledge of character must descend
into minute details and flow from personal experience. An ac-
quaintance with human nature in general, as obtained by men-
KNOWLEDGE OF THOSE ADDRESSED. 217
tal science or the maxims laid down in books, is good so far ;
but Ave cannot operate with effect on individual men or masses,
without the further knowledge acquired by actual intercourse
with these men or with others like them.
It is well to have in the view a systematic scheme of man's
nature, — of the mind's activities, feelings, and thinking powers,
— as described in a system of the human mind or character;
such a systematic view instructs us what to look for, and how
to arrange the facts coming under our observation. We are
thereby taught the leading motives common to all men, although
differing in degree, and the manner of their operation, — the in-
fluence of love, of hatred, of fear, wonder, the sentiment of
power, curiosity, the Fine Art emotions, the moral and religious
sentiments. We are practised in tracing cause and effect in the
region where persuasion has to work.
But this amount of knowledge comes short of the orator's
requirements. He must see to what extent the forces and feel-
ings common to human beings are developed in the particular
class that he has to deal with ; whether they are disposed prin-
cipally for action or emotion, for love or hatred, for veneration
or self-esteem, for Fine Art or duty, for studious acquirements
or recreative sports.
Nor is it enough to observe how far a class of persons are
actuated by some powerful feeling, — love, religion, fear, hatred,
— and to know generally what causes excite love, and what
fear. We must further learn what are the specific loves and
venerations, fears and hatreds, of those we have to persuade. It
is not all lovely things that the most loving person loves, nor
all hateful things that are hated by the best hater. The exact
direction given by education and circumstances to the various
feelings of our nature must be studied before appealing to these.
We have to find out a man's friendships and his enmities, his
party ties and his objects of respect and deference, with a view
to gaining him through his feelings of love and hatred.
The practical maxims acquired by men in the course of their
education and experience, are their principles of action, or rules
of procedure trusted to for gaining their ends, individual or
10
218 PERSUASION.
social ; these are the data of the orator, his media of persua-
sion, the major premises of his reasonings. Each man has cer-
tain maxims or opinions as to the management of his own pri-
vate affairs, the care of himself and his family ; any views pro-
pounded in conformity with these will command his assent. So
in politics and the affairs of societies. "We find in every free
community, allowing for party differences, certain prevailing
opinions relative to the mode of conducting public affairs, and
the orator, assuming these, turns them to his own ends. Such
are the English opinions and sentiments regarding consti-
tutional monarchy, official responsibility, local self-government,
publicity of judicial and deliberative bodies, the liberty of the
subject, civil equality, national ascendency, attachment to old
ways and dislike of abstract theories, consideration of general
consequences.
In Political Economy, we have free trade, and the duodec-
imal coinage.
In Law, besides the professional views of lawyers, there are
generally received maxims as to a fair trial, and punishment
combined with reformation.
There are likewise peculiar views of Morality current in each
community, which to oppose is defeat, to bend to, victory. A
certain ideal of chivalrous self-devotion has numerous followers ;
the maxim, " Be just before you are generous," has also ad-
herents. " Man must live for something higher than himself,"
is a recognized ethical doctrine.
" Talk of the law of nations," exclaimed Chatham ; " Nature
is the best writer — she will teach us to be men, and not to truckle
to power." That a something called Nature possesses numerous
virtues, is a favorite maxim that an orator may usually appeal to.
" Success is the test of merit," is a prevailing view always
difficult to oppose. " It is seldom given to man to do unmixed
good." " When once you begin to deviate from a rule, you
will never know where to stop."
The special opinions of Sects, political or religious, are also
to be adverted to.
To logical minds, a speaker must address logical arguments ;
KNOWLEDGE OF THOSE ADDRESSED. 219
with persons of cultivated taste, attention must be given to the
arts of refined composition. We must not appeal to the fears
of men of courage and spirit, or to the devotedness of thorough
self-seekers. On some occasions, as in the memorable election
of Daniel O'Connell for Clare, success is gained by the un-
measured vituperation of an opponent. In another atmosphere,
it is possible " to damn with faint praise ; " and the circum-
stances are not unfrequent' where a triumph may be gained by
sincerity and candor.
In addressing a judge, there is required a professional ac-
quaintance with the law, which he is merely an instrument in
carrying out. In official applications to Government, we suc-
ceed according as we understand, and are able to conform to,
the rules of office. And as all regular deliberative bodies are
bound by certain rules of procedure, and by laws and decisions
passed by their predecessors or by themselves, a speaker unable,
from ignorance or want of skill, to adapt himself to these, can
hope for no success.
84. An orator has frequently to overbear the special
maxims and views of an audience, by showing these to
be at variance with the final ends of action, namely, the
attainment of good and the avoidance of evil ; in which
is implied the preference of a greater good to a less, and
of a less evil to a greater.
An example is furnished in Bentham's Book of Fallacies,
where he examines a number of topics appealed to by the op-
ponents of change ; as, the wisdom of our ancestors, the pres-
ervation of the glorious Constitution, &c. See Sydney Smith's
summary in his famous "Noodle's Oration."
85. The kind of knowledge wanted is the same, as
regards both an individual and a class or assemblage of
individuals ; only, in this last case, we have to ascertain
what principles of action, of an effective kind, are com-
mon to all, or to a preponderating number.
As we cannot make a personal study of every man in a large
220 PEEStJASlON.
deliberative assembly, we learn the temper of tbe whole, by our
knowledge of individuals here and there, especially such as
take a lead among others, and by the collective determinations
of the body. The final criterion is, on actual trial, to have suc-
ceeded or failed.
86. Inattention to the character of the persons ad-
dressed will render nugatory the oratorical efforts of the
highest genius.
Milton's defence of the Liberty of the Press (Areopagitica)
is in his most gorgeous style ; yet it had no effect. The motives
appealed to are not those of ordinary Englishmen, and are in some
instances mere poetic fancies. Take the following example : —
" I deny not but that it is of the greatest concernment in the
church and commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books he-
mean themselves as well as men ; and thereafter to confine, im-
prison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors ; for books
are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a progeny of life in
them, to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are ;
nay, they do preserve, as in a phial, the purest efficacy and extrac-
tion of that living intellect that bred them. I know they are as
lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon's
teeth ; and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up
armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used,
as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. "Who kills a man
kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys^
good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in
the eye. Many a man lives a burden to the earth ; but a good
book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit embalmed and
treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. It is true no age can
restore a life, whereof perhaps there is no great loss ; and revolu-
tions of ages do not oft recover the loss of a rejected truth, for the
want of which whole nations fare the worse. We should be wary,
therefore, what persecution we raise against the living labors of
public men, how we spill that seasoned life of man, preserved and
stored up in books ; since we see a kind of homicide may be thus
committed, sometimes a kind of martyrdom ; and if it extend to
the whole impression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution
ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but strikes at the
ethereal and soft essence, the breath of reason itself; slays an im-
mortality rather than a life."
" That noble discourse," says Macaulay, "had been neglected
by the generation to which it was addressed, had sunk into
FAILURE OF EFFORTS OF GENIUS. 221
oblivion, and was at the mercy of every pilferer." He has else-
where added, that in no shape did it contribute in any assign-
able degree to the emancipation of the press.
Lord Erskine has never been surpassed as a pleader before a
jury, and we may compare with the above his mode of handling
the same question. A specimen is subjoined: —
" From minds thus subdued by the terrors of punishment, there
could issue no works of genius to expand the empire of human rea-
son, nor any masterly compositions on the general nature of gov-
ernment, by the help of which the great commonwealths of mankind
have founded their establishments ; much less any of those useful
applications of them to critical conjunctures, by which, from time
to time, our own constitution, by the exertions of patriot citizens,
has been brought back to its standard. Under such terrors, all the
great lights of science and civilization must be extinguished ; for
men cannot communicate their free thoughts to one another with a
lash held over their heads. It is the nature of everything that is
great and useful, both in the animate and inanimate world, to be
wild and irregular, — and we must be contented to take them with
the alloys which belong to them, or live without them. Genius
breaks from the fetters of criticism, but its wanderings are sanc-
tioned by its majesty and wisdom when it advances in its path —
subject it to the critic, and you tame it into dulness. Mighty rivers
break down their banks in the winter, sweeping away to death the
flocks which are fattened on the soil that they fertilize in the sum-
mer : the few may be saved by embankments from drowning, but
the flocks must perish for hunger. Tempests occasionally shake
our dwellings, and dissipate our commerce ; but they scourge before
them the lazy elements, which without them would stagnate into
pestilence. In like manner Liberty herself, the last and best gift
of God to his creatures, must be taken just as she is ; you might
pare her down into bashful regularity, and shape her into a perfect
model of severe scrupulous law, but she would then be Liberty
no longer ; and you must be content to die under the lash of thi3
inexorable justice which you had exchanged for the banners of
Freedom."
In this passage, the orator appeals, in general language, to
the fruits of unrestricted mental energy, assuming that these
are so far evident that they need only be recalled to mind ; he
rebuts the common objections against Liberty, drawn from its
abuses, by analogies from the material world ; and, finally, he
affirms his main theme in energetic language. It would have
greatly strengthened his case with an English jury to have
222 PERSUASION.
cited the prosperity of England as growing with its successive
acquisitions of freedom.
Let us now contrast these declamatory passages with the
arguments that really procured the abolition of the censorship
in 1693. We find, from Macaulay, that Blount, a notorious and
unscrupulous writer of the time, laid a trap to ruin the licenser
Bohun, a high Tory and high Churchman, by sending him an
anonymous pamphlet full of high Tory and high Church prin-
ciples, but with the title prefixed, " King William and Queen
Mary, Conquerors. 1 '' Bohun fell into the snare, licensed the
pamphlet, and, in a few hours, discovered that the title-page
had set all London in a flame ; while, in four days, the House
of Commons summoned him to the bar, and sent him to prison.
The incident roused attention to the inexpediency of the cen-
sorship, which had hitherto passed unchallenged by the influ-
ential voices in Parliament, " But," says Macaulay, " the ques-
tion had now assumed a new aspect ; and the continuation of
the Act was no longer regarded as a matter of course.
" A feeling in favor of the liberty of the press, a feeling not yet,
it is true, of wide extent, or formidable intensity, began to show
itself. The existing system, it was said, was prejudicial loth to
commerce and to learning. Could it be expected that any capitalist
would advance the funds necessary for a great literary undertaking,
or that any scholar would expend years of toil and research on such
an undertaking, while it was possible that, at the last moment, the
caprice, the malice, the folly of one man might frustrate the whole
design ? And was it certain that the law which so grievously re-
stricted both the freedom of trade and the freedom of thought had
really added to the security of the State ? Had not recent expe-
rience proved that the licenser might himself be an enemy of their
majesties, or, worse still, an absurd and perverse friend ; that he
might suppress a book of which it would be for their interest that
every house in the country should have a copy, and that he might
readily give his sanction to a libel which tended to make them
hateful to then- people, and which deserved to be torn and burned
by the hand of Ketch ? Had the government gained much by es-
tablishing a literary police which prevented Englishmen from hav-
ing the History of the Bloody Circuit, and allowed them, by way
of compensation, to read tracts which represented King William
and Queen Mary as conquerors ? "
Two years after the feeling in favor of the liberty of the
press, which w T as fostered by the considerations quoted, had
MEANS OF PERSUASION. 223
arisen, the obnoxious Licensing Act was condemned in the Honse
of Commons and removed from the statute-books. At first,
however, there was opposition from the Lords, and a conference
took place between the Houses, at which the Commons defended
their resolution. The paper they presented containing their
reasons is described thus by Macaulay : " They pointed out,
concisely, clearly, forcibly, and sometimes with a grave irony
which is not unbecoming, the absurdities aud iniquities of the
statute which was about to expire. But all their objections will
be found to relate to matters of detail. On the great question
of principle, on the question whether the liberty of unlicensed
printing be, on the whole, a blessing or a curse to society, not
a word is said. The Licensing Act is condemned, not as a
thing essentially evil, but on account of the petty grievances, the
exactions, the jobs, the commercial restrictions, the domiciliary
visits, which were incidental .to it." After mentioning some of
their petty, but convincing reasons, Macaulay adds, " Such were
the arguments which did what Milton's Areopagitica had failed
to do." Locke, it is said further in a note, is believed to have
drawn up the paper. Macaulay goes on : " If this were so, it
must be remembered that Locke wrote, not in his own name,
but in the name of a multitude of plain country gentlemen and
merchants, to whom his opinions touching the liberty of the
press would probably have seemed strange and dangerous. We
must suppose, therefore, that, with his usual prudence, he re-
frained from giving an exposition of his own views, and con-
tented himself with putting into a neat and perspicuous form
arguments suited to the capacity of the parliamentary majority"
87. We come now to the Means of Persuasion.
The Means of Persuasion may be stated, in general
terms, as the assimilating of the object desired with the
principles of action of those addressed.
The hearers are possessed of certain active dispositions, —
tastes, likings, convictions, beliefs, or opinions, — and the speaker
must bring the object sought under the sweep of one or more
of these ; in other words, he must represent it as constituting
224: PERSUASION.
the very occasion for these active impulses to operate. See
the example just quoted.
Pitt's memorandum to George III. on Fox's East India Bill,
describing it as " a plan to take more than half the royal power,
and by that means disable his Majesty for the rest of his reign,"
was a highly persuasive appeal.
88. For persuasive address, a thorough acquaintance
with the subject is a chief requisite.
By being acquainted with a subject in all its bearings, we
are qualified to adduce whatever there is in it to conciliate the
good will of the hearers. People generally are most persuasive
in their own walk ; as the phrase is, " they have most to say for
themselves."
With a knowledge of the subject, and a knowledge of the
hearers, the power of fitting the one to the other will depend
on force of mind and extent of attainments and resources. Ora-
tory consists, not in adducing a few of the obvious points of
connection between the end desired and the convictions of those
addressed, but in exhausting the whole range of pertinent con-
siderations, near and remote.
It is necessary to persuasive force to be able to vary the
language and illustrations. A fact that is inert when stated in one
form, may strike home when put in another form. For example,
Paley remarks, as an objection to the theory of moral sentiments,
that there are no maxims in morality which " are absolutely
and universally true ; in other words, which do not bend to
circumstances" The latter expression is an equivalent of the
former, but more effectual for the purposes of the argument.
Many instances might be cited of verbal ingenuity in recon-
ciling what seemed a hopeless clash between a speaker and his
hearers. The following is from Burke's speech to his constitu-
ents at Bristol, where he vindicates the exercise of his own free
judgment in Parliament, and reconciles it with his duties to his
constituents themselves : —
" Certainly, gentlemen, it ought to be the happiness and glory
of a representative to live in the strictest union, the closest corre-
VKRBAL INGENUITY. 225
spondence, and the most unreserved communication with his con-
stituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him ; their
opinion, high respect ; their business, unremitted attention. It is his
duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs;
and above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his
own. But, his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgment, his enlight-
ened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or
to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your
pleasure ; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a
trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answer-
able. Your representative owes you, not his industry only, out
Ms judgment; and he defrays, instead of serving you, if he sacri-
fices it to your opinion.''''
This may be compared to sailing in the wind's eye.
The ingenuity of the following retort of Whateley merits
admiration : — " I have seen in a professedly argumentative
work, a warning inserted against the alleged unsound doctrine
contained in the Article ' Person ' in Appendix to the Logic ;
which being unaccompanied by any proofs of unsoundness, may
be regarded as a strong testimony to the unanswerable character
of the reasons I have there adduced."
" Tyranny," says Chatham in his speech on the expulsion of
Wilkes from the House of Commons, " tyranny is detestable
in every shape ; but in none is it so formidable as where it is
assumed and exercised by a number of tyrants. n
None of these surpasses in felicity Shelley's apology for
the excesses of the first French Revolution :— " If the Revolu-
tion had been in every respect prosperous, then misrule and
superstition would lose half their claims to our abhorrence, as
fetters which the captive can unlock with the slightest motion of
his fingers, and which do not eat with poisonous rust into the
soul."
89. Everything relative to Persuasion comes under
the principle just stated ; nevertheless, for the full illus-
tration of that principle, and for bringing out the vari-
ety of minute considerations pertinent to Oratory, it is
proper to view the subject under the three following
aspects : —
10*
226 PERSUASION.
I. Persuasion considered as based on some of the
modes of simple communication.
II. Persuasion by Argument.
III. Persuasion through the Feelings.
90. I. Persuasion may be based on some of the
modes of simple communication, — Description, Narra-
tive, and Exposition.
Description is employed to picture scenes that are to rouse
the passions. Such are the descriptions introduced by Burke
into his speeches on Warren Hastings; the descriptions in
Hall's sermon on the French invasion; and the account by
Macaulay of the devastation of the Palatinate in the end of the
seventeenth century. These pictures, it is true, are not exer-
cises of the pure descriptive art, as we have recognized it above ;
they involve narration also, but they are popularly designated
by the name of Description. The features selected are such as
to inspire strong feelings in a certain direction.
The happiness accruing from good conduct, and the miseries
of vice, are subjects of oratorical description. All things that
can impart a charm or fascination are accumulated under the
one, and revulsive horrors are spread over the other.
Narrative also enters frequently into oratory. The " case "
in a law-pleading often consists of a chain of events, and these
must be narrated. The narration is conducted with the view
of making prominent all that favors the side of the speaker.
It is possible, besides, in the recital of facts to introduce persua-
sive touches.
In the celebrated contention between Demosthenes and
./Eschines, a great part of the speeches on both sides is made
up of the narration of actions and events.
Exposition is still more intimately allied with persuasion.
In many instances, oratorical address is an exposition of certain
great principles, which it is desired to commend to people's ac-
ceptance. Especially is this the case with preaching. The elo-
quence of Chalmers was almost always expository. In discuss-
ing Exposition, we might have quoted his sermons as modelled,
THE FORM OF EXPOSITION. 227
to a nearly unparalleled degree, upon Iteration and Illustration.
Robert Hall frequently pursues the same method. The educa-
tional function of pulpit oratory is fulfilled by the elucidation
of doctrines ; but these must be chosen, shaped, and illustrated,
to rouse the feelings. Where action is to be brought about at
once, as in legal and political oratory, the method is less appli-
cable. Burke expounded principles to excess, so far as his im-
mediate object was concerned.
To give a few examples. Definition may be made highly
effective in oratorical stimulation. In the following passage from
Demosthenes, we find Law defined with such circumstances
and coloring as to produce in the hearers an active sentiment of
veneration and deference : —
" The whole life of men, whether the state they live in be great
or small, is governed either by Nature or by Law. Nature is irreg-
ular and capricious ; Law is definite, and the same to all. When
the natural disposition is evil, it frequently urges to crime ; but the
law aims at the just, the good, and the fit ; these they search out,
and when determined, they publish as the regulations to be fol-
lowed by every one alike. To these obedience must be rendered
on many grounds ; but most of all on this — that law is the invention
and gift of the gods, the resolution of prudent men, the corrector
of voluntary or involuntary wrong-doers, and the determination of
the state at large, which is necessarily binding on all its citizens."
Here the function of law is elevated by its alliance with all
that is commanding and august in political society.
In the Speech on the Crown, Demosthenes introduces an
elaborate antithetical definition of two species of characters,
the straightforward adviser (6 av^oyXoc), and the truckler
(6 ovKO(pavT7]c,), in order to point out the contrast between
himself and his adversary JEschines. The defining of an ideal
type of character, pointing to the instance actually in view, is
a suitable medium of praise or censure.
Pitt's reply to Horace Walpole contains an effective use of
definition. " I have been accused of acting a theatrical part.
A theatrical part may imply either some peculiarities of gesture,
or a dissimulation of my real sentiments, and the adoption of
the opinions and language of another man. v
228 PERSUASION.
In exemplification of the expository method as applied to
Moral Suasion, we may refer to Extract XVI.
91. Persuasion is aided by all the arts that can
strengthen or loosen the bonds which fasten ideas in the
mind.
This appears to open a large subject, but, in point of fact,
it only refers us to the figures and devices of style already con-
sidered. Similes, metaphors, antitheses, epigrams, balanced
constructions, have all the effect of strengthening the hold of
certain things upon the mind, and thereby increasing their force
when used in persuasion. Bacon's epigram, "By indignities
men come to dignities," tends to dissolve the usual associations
with indignity, and replace them with others of a contrary na-
ture. The metaphor that " Calumny is the shadow of greatness,"
has a similar efficacy in modifying our views of calumny. The
apothegm, " Youth in toil, age in ease," by its form, deepens a
moral impression.
Canning's famous retort to the Irish repealers, is an argu-
ment intensified by the form of the language : — " Repeal the
Union, restore the Heptarchy"
92. II. Persuasion takes on, to a large extent, the
form of Argument, Reasoning, or Proof.
There are still supposed certain fundamental dispositions,
convictions, or opinions on the part of the hearers, accom-
panied with ability and readiness to follow trains of reasoning
or deductions from these, and to balance considerations on op-
posite sides.
Argumentative Persuasion is closely allied with Logical
Proof (See Exposition by Proof). To a mind perfectly ra-
tional, scientific or logical evidence is conviction ; Logic and
Rhetoric are the same. But the ordinary arts of persuasive
reasoning take in modes of proceeding irrelevant to genuine
proof, and adapted to minds imperfectly rational.
All Proof and all Disproof are resolvable into allegations
of Similarity or Dissimilarity. To comply with the demands
ARGUMENT. 229
of logic, the alleged similarities must be complete and relevant ;
and so with the dissimilarities : but for persuasion, it is enough
that they appear so to the persons addressed.
Before commencing to argue a question, the speaker is
recommended to set clearly before his own mind the point to
be argued. The arts of exposition contain all the artificial
means of furthering this object. In an argument intended to
satisfy minds of fair intelligence, the leading terms should be
defined, and the principles expressed in clear language, with the
aid of counter-statement and example.
93. An Argument is a fact, principle, or set of
facts or of principles, adduced as evidence of some other
fact or principle.
It is alleged as a fact, or a law of nature, that the stars grav-
itate towards each other ; and the argument, or fact in proof, is
that the sun and planets gravitate. "We argue that the weather
is about to change, by quoting the fact that the barometer is
falling, or the fact that the wind is shifting, or the general law
that at the particular season such changes happen.
94. Two things are requisite in Argument. First :
The facts or principles adduced must be admitted, and
sufficiently believed in, by the hearers.
Belief may be genuine, but too feeble to overcome resistance.
95. Secondly : A certain similarity must be admitted
to bold between the facts or principles adduced and the
point to be established.
One fact cannot prove another unless the two are so far of
a kind, that, on the ground of nature's uniformity, we may ex-
pect the second to happen exactly as the first has happened.
The gravitation of the sun and planets is an argument for the
gravitation of the stars, because we believe that the stars are
constituted with a sufficient amount of likeness to entail the
gravitating property, nature being uniform.
Of the two requisites just mentioned, the first corresponds
230 PERSUASION.
to the major premise of the Logical Syllogism, the second to
the minor. The major (in a regular syllogism of the first
Figure) lays down a principle, the minor asserts the relevance
or identity of this with the thing to be proved. " Matter
gravitates (major) — a meteoric stone is matter (minor) — a me-
teoric stone gravitates." Mr. J. S. Mill has shown that the
major need not be a general principle ; it may be a fact or series
of facts stated individually; "this, that, and the other material
thing gravitates (major) : a certain thing — a meteor — resembles
these in their common property of being inert matter ; and so
(nature being uniform) resembles them in the superadded prop-
erty of gravitating."
96. Arguments, or Proofs, are of the following
classes : — (1.) Deductive, Necessary, or Implicated ; that
is, such as imply the thing to be proved.
An assertion given to accredit its obverse, is an argument
of implication or necessity. It is merely viewing the same fact
from the other side, and is little more than a change of lan-
guage. " Such a race cannot be savages ; for they have many
civilized institutions" " Virtue favors happiness ; vice causes
misery"
The logical converse of an assertion (made by transposing
the subject and predicate with certain cautions) is the exact
equivalent of the original, and is therefore a case of mere im-
plication. " No just man would make his children a burden
to others ; no one that does this is just," — are different forms
of the same assertion, and not different assertions ; and to make
the one prove the other is to put forward an argument of impli-
cation.
When a general statement is advanced as evidence of a par-
ticular included in it, the argument is deductive or implicated :
" We shall die, for all men are mortal." The syllogism, as al-
ready remarked, is of this character ; the major premise covers
the conclusion, provided we have assurance of the relevancy, as
affirmed in the minor. It bas only to be ascertained that we
are men (the minor) ; and the argument to prove that we shall
DEDUCTIVE PROOFS. 231
die is necessary, because it contains the fact as a part of the
meaning.
This form of deductive argument is a prevailing type of ar-
gumentative reasoning. The mode of expressing it is a kind
of inverted exposition ; instead of a general doctrine taking the
lead of the particular examples or applications, a particular case
is given first, and the principle is then adduced as the proof of
it. To show that the Laplanders are not so miserable as we
should expect from their climate, we bring forward the general
principle that the mind of man shapes itself to his condition.
Another well-known type of deductive reasoning, consists in
following out a conditional assertion. " If the moon has no
atmosphere, animals constituted like those on the earth cannot
exist there (major) ; now the moon has no atmosphere (minor) ;
therefore animals constituted like those on the earth do not
exist in the moon."
97. (2.) Inductive, sometimes called Contingent : as
when from particulars observed, known, or admitted, we
prove, through the medium of nature's uniformity, other
particulars unobserved, unknown, or unadmitted.
The argument for the gravitation of the stars is inductive.
The proof that quinine will cure ague is of the same class.
Although a knowledge of the various modes of Inductive
proof, as they are exhibited in Mill's Logic of Induction, would
serve the purposes of exposition and persuasion, as well as of
science, I cannot transfer a complete enumeration of these
to the present work. A few select points may, nevertheless,
be indicated.
The first species of Inductive proof is called the Method of
Agreement. It is grounded on the uniform companionship of
two facts through a great variety of circumstances, which leads
to their being considered as cause and effect. We should prove
by this method that extreme heat is a cause of deterioration of
the human system ; for, under all varieties of race and of indi-
vidual character, a residence in the tropics is accompanied with
enfeeblement of body, or of mind, or of both.
232 PERSUASION.
It is only a scientific man, or a logician, that is fully aware
of the limits of this argument ; the popular tendency is to
accept it too easily : it has a rhetorical plausibility beyond its
real worth.
Mauy common modes of reasoning are fallacious examples
of this canon. A particular mode of life is called healthy, be-
cause it has been the habit of a healthy man ; a certain insti-
tution is lauded, because a nation has prospered under it. The
logician in such instances would say that the conditions of a
true induction have not been complied with. The easiest mode
of disabusing an ordinary mind, is to produce instances where
the same thing has been present without the same effect.
It adds greatly to the force of conviction by this method, as
well as to its genuine cogency, to combine cases of agreement
in absence with agreement in presence. Thus the effects of po-
litical liberty are more fully certified by comparing a number of
countries where it exists with others where it does not exist.
The other leading mode of establishing cause and effect is
called the Method of Difference. When a man, in the fulness
of life, is shot and -falls lifeless, we know that the shot killed
him, because that agency made the whole difference between
his living and his dying. "When a red-hot wire is immersed in
oxygen gas, it bursts into a flame and is rapidly consumed.
The contact with pure oxygen is the only difference that we
have made in the circumstances of the wire, and that contact is
thereby proved to be the cause of the combustion. When a
nation suddenly rises to prosperity on the accession of a new
minister, like the British people under Chatham, no other impor-
tant change having occurred, we infer that he is the cause of
the improvement.
The Method of Difference furnishes a more decided proof
of causation than the Method of Agreement. It is hence often
resorted to in argument, and not un frequently abused ; being
put forward in cases where the difference is not reduced to the
one single circumstance alleged.
A third mode of Inductive proof is a variety of the fore-
going, called the Method of Residues. We take away from a
INDUCTIVE PEOOFS. 233
phenomenon the effects of all known agents, and ascribe the re-
maining effect to the remaining cause. Knowing the sentiments
and views of three men in a co-partnership of four, we can allow
for the actions that would result from them ; and, if there be
anything left unexplained, we attribute that to the fourth. This
method, so far as it can be carried, has the force of proof, and
can accordingly be used in Argument.
Another important variety of the Method of Difference is
that called the Method of Concomitant Variations ; whereby
we infer cause and effect from the proportionate rise or fall
of two accompanying facts. By the circumstance that an in-
crease of temperature in any substance is followed by a pro-
portionate increase of bulk, we prove that heat expands
bodies.
Whately, in his Rhetoric, has illustrated this kind of Argu-
ment under the name of Progressive Approach. It is a strong
presumption in favor of increased toleration and liberty, that
their increase has been a concomitant of the general improve-
ment of nations. So any mode of reasoning that falls into dis-
credit as accurate knowledge is extended, must be looked upon
as in all probability fallacious.
An argument of this kind is described by Cromwell as hav-
ing decided the leaders of the Commonwealth to proceed to ex-
tremities against Charles. At a conference at Hampton
Court, the officers in the Puritan army, on reviewing their
experience, were agreed, that so long as they maintained un-
compromising opposition to the king, their military operations
prospered, but in proportion as they entered into diplomacy
with a view to reconciliation, Providence was against them in
the field.
98. (3.) Analogy is much resorted to as a means of
proof.
"When we argue from one man to another man, on any com-
mon property of men, as their birth, growth, &c, we reason In-
ductively, they being the same in kind ; when we reason from
men to animals far removed from them in structure, or to plants,
234 PERSUASION.
we reason Analogically ; there is a sameness, but accompanied
with a vast amount of difference. It is an argument from Anal-
ogy, when we compare nations to individuals in respect of vital
constitution, and infer that every nation will pass through the
successive stages of maturity, old age, and death. So, because
there is a certain resemblance between the metropolis of a
country and the heart, it has been argued that its expansion be-
comes at last a disease.
The existence of sensibility or consciousness in animals is
proved by the analogy of their expression, their actions, and
their organization.
Analogical arguments are not without rhetorical plausibility.
They contain the foundation circumstances of all reasoning, a
resemblance of particulars; but the accompanying disparity
limits their application.
99. (4.) Argument or proof is frequently no more
than Probable.
The nature of a probable assertion admits of being explained
in a very simple form. Every certain inference respecting a
particular case, implies that there is a law of nature absolutely
uniform applying to that case. It is certain that every grown
man now living will be dead within a hundred years. This in-
ference reposes upon a natural law, authenticated by the uni-
versal experience of mankind. But it is not certain that A. B.,
born in 1830, will be dead in 1930, although highly probable.
It is not a uniform law of nature that every man dies before
attaining one hundred years of age, though it happens in a vast
preponderance of instances, the exact number being known by
the bills of mortality. Supposing, then, that of those attaining
the age of thirty-six, 9,999 out of 10,000 die before a hundred,
A. B.'s probability of living till that age is 1 to 9,999. Thus,
whereas an inference that is certain rests on a universal truth, or
an induction that knows no break, a probable inference rests on
an induction of the form— most X's are Y's ; and the degree of
probability is expressed by the number of X's that are Y's. If,
in a miscellaneous crowd of men, three out of every four will
ARGUMENT FROM PROBABILITY. 235
•
tell the truth when asked, without an oath, the probability of
the testimony of any one of them is 3 to 1, or }. If the addi-
tion of an oath has such an effect that, on an experience suffi-
ciently large, it is found that 19 men out of 20 can be relied on,
.that ratio is the measure of the value of a single testimony on
oath.
The rules for combining probable inferences to calculate
their approach to certainty are not difficult of apprehension. If
two independent witnesses, whose separate testimony is valued at
-§-, concur in the same statement, the combined probability is |- ;
if one is valued at f, and the other at }, the united value is f.
The principle of computation may be roughly stated thus : — A
probability of f is the same as 2 to 1 ; now, two such probabil-
ities are combined by multiplication into the product 4 to 1,
which is the same as ■§. Again, to combine f and }, we must
multiply 2 to 1 by 3 to 1, which yields 6 to 1, or -£. Hence,
on the supposition that two witnesses on oath were separately
valued at -|-§-, we should have to multiply 19 to 1 by 19 to 1,
and the product, 361 to 1, or -§-§£, would be the value of their
concurring testimony ; a degree of probability that, however
obtained, would be received as sufficient either in historical evi-
dence or in a court of law.
Now, although, as already said, we cannot expect to put in
exact numbers the probability of the proofs in historical, legal,
and practical questions, yet we do always form some vague
estimate of what we consider the force of an inference that is
not certain ; and there would be no harm in stating to ourselves '
the figure that would come nearest to that estimate. We use
adjectives to express the degrees of our confidence, — as very
slight, slight, tolerable, considerable, high, very high, almost
certain ; and we should not make our estimate less exact by rep-
resenting it by a number, being all the time aware that this is
but a rude approximation, although not more rude than the
estimate without the number. And we might further revert to
the ultimate criterion of probability, as above stated, namely,
the number of cases out of the total happening in nature, where
the supposed connection holds.
236 PERSUASION.
100. By the foregoing methods of proof, fully com-
plied with; we may establish truth, and bring home con-
viction to a rational mind. There are, however, various
devices for stifling their influence, constituting one de-
partment of sophistry.
(1.) As regards Deductive evidence, there are forms of
language containing error disguised as truth, the fallacies of the
syllogistic logician. These are not the most formidable weapons
of the sophist, there being a tendency in men to suspect the
dexterities of the formal reasoner. This sentence from Pope
has a plausible, and no more than a plausible appearance : —
" Whoever has nattered his friend successfully, must at once
think himself a knave and his friend a fool."
(2.) In the higher class of Inductive proofs, where there is
a unanimous concurrence of the Four Methods, or enough to
establish a conclusion as logically certain, it is seldom that any
attempt is made to nullify the evidence. The laws of motion,
gravity, heat, light, &c, are allowed to pass.
(3.) It is in Analogies, and in mere Probability, or in the con-
currence of Probabilities, that success is most likely to attend
on sophistry and mystification. An argument fairly estimated
may have a probability of two to one, or two-thirds ; an oppo-
nent will bring out prominently the exceptional cases, consti-
tuting the one-third ; will do his best to keep out of view
the majority ; will cavil at and deny what he cannot conceal ;
and so make it appear as if the probability inclined the other
way.
In a court of law, when a strong case of combined probabil-
ities is made out, the opposing counsel will comment on the
probabilities separately, showing their insufficiency in the de-
tached state, and trying to prevent the jury from attending to
their cumulative force.
101. "When we make use of a plurality of argu-
ments, we have to consider how to arrange them for ef-
fect.
The first requisite is to adduce them separately.
AEBAXGEMEXT OF AUGrXEXTS. 237
Besides avoiding the confusion of mixing up different topics,
we give to each a distinct local habitation, whereby it abides
better in the memory ; so that, if it be omitted in the reply,
the hearer is aware of the void. The designating of the argu-
ments numerically adds to the separateness. This, however, is
a cooling application in impassioned address, and was seldom
practised by the ancient orators. The cumulative conjunctions
can be employed for the same purpose ; as, Again, then, now,
once more, <fec.
As with principles brought forward in Exposition, so with
arguments, a terse summary or sharp epithet engraves them on
the mind.
102. Next, as regards the number and the order of
the arguments.
Number does not always give force. Not to speak of the
danger of being tedious and prolix, it is better, in the prospect
of opposition, to leave out such as are weak, and such as an op-
ponent could effectively meet.
The order may be various, provided a good position is
given to the strongest ; in which new these may be placed
either first or last. Sometimes it is requisite to postpone
an unpalatable topic, until the way is paved for its introduc-
tion.
103. In Icefetatiox, or Reply, there are many things
to be considered. It is in this department that the train-
ing in logical method avails most.
The purely logical aptitude for detecting fallacious syllogisms,
unsound inductions, and loosely-defined notions, although not
immediately concerned in giving plausibility to a first statement,
is always efficacious in reply.
104. It is advantageous to set forth explicitly, at the
commencement, all that is admitted on the other side ;
and to nnfold whatever important inferences are fairly
deducible from those admissions.
Damaging contradictions are sometimes made to appear at
238 PERSUASION.
once ; and, in any case, a foundation is laid both for refutation
and for argument.
■105. If, in the original statement, the arguments were
mixed together, they should be disentangled by the re-
spondent, and answered separately.
A speaker accustomed to separate his own arguments will
see the benefit of doing the same with his adversary's. In this
way, too, he will best encounter the practice alluded to in the fol-
lowing remarks on the oratory of Fox. " If, as is alleged, he was
wont to repeat the same thoughts again and again in different
words, this might be a defect in the oration, but it was none in the
orator. For, thinking not of himself, nor of the rules of rhetoric,
but only of success in the struggle, he had found these the most
effectual means to imbue a popular audience almost impercep-
tibly with his own opinions. And he knew that to the multitude
one argument stated in five different forms is, in general, held
equal to five new arguments." (Stanhope's Life of Pitt, Vol.
L, p. 247.)
106. Refutation, or Disproof, necessarily takes place
according to all the methods of Argument, or Proof.
Deductive fallacies, or bad syllogisms, can, with or without
the help of Logic, be shaped and presented so that their falla-
ciousness shall be apparent. Some parallel case, drawn from a
familiar subject, will contribute to the refutation.
The formal part of reasoning (treated of in the Formal or
Scholastic Logic) is less frequently at fault than the premises.
Insufficiency may attach to the Major Premise, which (in the
regular syllogism) affirms a general truth, or to the Minor, which
declares that a particular case falls under the generality : in the
first case, the refutation is purely Inductive; in the other
case, the relevancy of the minor is closely related to Defini-
tion.
As regards the Major. The mode of refuting a general af-
firmation is to produce exceptions, or other admitted principles
contradicting it. The refutation is effective in proportion as
REFUTATION, OK DISPROOF. 239
these incompatible facts and principles are well known and un-
derstood. When any one affirms that all stimulants are bad,
the respondent produces tea, coffee, wine and brandy in sick-
ness, opium as a medicine, and so on.
Earl Montague's defence of the Court of the Lord High
Steward for trying Peers, is a good example of rebutting a gen-
eral charge by particulars.
" It would be easy to make out a long list of squires, merchants,
lawyers, surgeons, yeomen, artisans, ploughmen, whose blood, bar-
barously shed during the late evil times, cries for vengeance to
heaven. But what single member of your House, in our days, or
in the days of our fathers, or in the days of our grandfathers, suf-
fered death unjustly by sentence of the Court of the Lord High
Steward ? Hundreds of the common people were sent to the gal-
lows by common juries for the Rye House Plot and the Western
Insurrection. One peer, and one alone, my Lord Delamere, was
brought at that time before the Court of the Lord High Steward,
and he was acquitted. You say that the evidence against him was
legally insufficient. Be it so. But so was the evidence against
Sydney, against Cornish, against Alice Lisle : yet it sufficed to de-
stroy them. You say that the peers, before whom my Lord Dela-
mere was brought, were selected with shameless unfairness by
King James and by Jeffreys. Be it so. But this only proves that
under the worst possible King, and under the worst possible High
Steward, a lord tried by lords has a better chance for life than a
commoner who puts himself on his country."
Many doctrines brought forward in argument are not so
much false as confused, being made up of ill-defined, incoherent
notions. The assertion that " Nature is a safe guide " is irref-
utable because unintelligible. Yet we cannot stop to unfold
the ambiguities of the word nature, so as to deprive the propo-
sition of the force of a venerable name. We rather parry such
an argument, by admitting that Nature, uncorruptcd, left to her-
self, or with fair play, is a safe guide, and by denying the appli-
cation in the special instance.
Probably the best way of dealing with a mystifying and
confused opponent, is to select a specimen of his arguments for
a full and minute exposure. In controversial warfare, opponents
of this kind are not uncommon ; and there are a few illustrious
examples of the method of replying to them. We may adduce
Locke's controversy with Stillingfleet ; Hobbes's defence of his
24:0 PERSUASION.
theory of the Will against Bishop Bramhall ; and, in our time,
the reply of Robert Hall to Kinghorn on the subject of " Free
Communion."
The relevancy of the Minor enters into many disputes.
Granting the principle, we refuse the application. Whether a
particular case falls under a rule is often a nice point to deter-
mine ; both legal and moral right and wrong involve such
questions. " Falsehood is wrong ; is then the subscribing of
the thirty-nine Articles, without believing them, a falsehood ? "
To show that the subject of the Minor does, or does
not, correspond with the subject of the Major (which is the
meaning of the Minor), we must often resort to an examination
of particulars, such as is required for Induction and for Defini-
tion.
People readily agree to such generalities as " Religion was
not intended to make our pleasures less ; " " Those actions of
individuals that do not affect others should not be interfered
with by others ; " but the carrying out of these into their appli-
cations will show the widest discordance, so much so that the
conceding of them settles nothing. The real battle must be
fought on what seems the Minor premise, but is in fact another
inductive generality.
The strict logical handling of those questions (however de-
sirable in itself and useful to the speaker) is too roundabout and
abstruse for popular address ; the rhetorician must content him-
self with his usual resource, the starting of palpable contradic-
tions ; for which end it is, that he has been above enjoined to
master the admitted facts and principles of the other side. The
citing of contradictory instances always disproves, and often
silences, both bad Inductions and bad Definitions.
107. It is sometimes shown that an opponent is pre-
cluded, by something in his own special position, from
the benefit of a principle appealed to by him ; a special
mode of Kefutation by Inconsistency, called the Argu-
mentum ad hominem.
It has been customary to meet those sceptics that maintain
ARGUMENTUM AD HOMCsEM. 241
nothing to be certain, by replying that the very declaration of
universal uncertainty must itself be uncertain. Cudworth, in
encountering Protagoras, who denied absolute truth, retorts that
Protagoras's own affirmation, "Man is the measure of all things,"
is given by him as absolute.
Earl Russell, writing to the Government of Saxony, on the
violation by the German Powers, of the treaties with reference
to Schleswig and Holstein, uses the ad hominem argument :
" Her Majesty's Government is convinced that the Court of
Dresden will understand that if such a Hue of argument [that
advanced on the other side] were admitted as valid, every ex-
isting treaty would become waste paper. [This is an argument
based on the common interest of nations ; what follows is spe-
cial to the parties addressed.] I refrain from quoting cases in
point in which such a light and inconsiderate mode of interpret-
ing treaties would prove seriously prejudicial to the German
Powers themselves."
We may also quote Hooker's interrogation, addressed to the
atheistic profane swearer, " Is there a God to swear by, and none
to believe in, none to pray to ? " When any one merits the re-
proach conveyed in the comparison, " Satan reproving sin," he
comes under the ad hominem argument.
The reasonings against extending political privileges to wo-
men are met by the fact — a woman is on the throne.
But as every mode of error, or of alleged error, must involve
contradiction, or the appearance of contradiction, Refutation,
however variously conducted, must always end by bringing on
the clash of irreconcilable facts, principles, or opinions ; just as
Proof must resolve itself into setting forth the consistency or
agreement of facts or principles.
108. Arguments from Analogy are refuted by ex-
posing the defectiveness of the similarity.
When a reason for the interference of government with the
private tastes of the people, is adduced from the analogy of the
parental relation, we deny that the two cases resemble each
other to this extent. Plato, in the Republic, constitutes a
11
242 PERSUASION.
State on the analogy of the three constituent portions of the
human mind, as laid down by him — Reason, Energy, Appetite.
Hostile critics deny the resemblance. Socrates put forth the
analogy between the practice of social duty and a special pro-
fession, both alike depending on knowledge or skill ; it is re-
plied, that the analogy fails in an essential point. There are
sufficient inducements, in the shape of immediate reward, to
make men exercise their professional ability ; there are no cor-
responding inducements to social virtue generally.
109. By far the most frequent occasion of debate is
the case of opposing Probabilities.
The nature of probable evidence has already been pointed
out ; and there is only one way of arguing the case, namely, to
show that the amount of probability contended for is no greater
than the proportion of the instances in actual experience. The
probability of a life rests on the statistics of mortality. The
probability that education at a public school will increase the
manliness (whatever that means) of a youth, is the proportion
of those that have been so influenced to those that have not.
If that can be ascertained with some approach to statistical ac-
curacy, the probability is established ; and an opponent must
deal with the alleged statistics in order to do away with the
probability.
110. There are cases in which a debater is allowed
to lay the Burden of Proof upon the other side.
The Burden of Proof is thrown upon any one proposing to
infringe other men's liberties, to inflict pains or penalties, or in
any way to restrain the pleasures of mankind. It is thrown
also, although in a less degree, on whoever endeavors to pull
down an existing institution, to expel an actual possessor, to
impeach a prevailing and long-sanctioned opinion. In these
last cases, we have seen so many examples of the change of in-
stitutions, possessions, and opinions, that the presumption in
favor of what exists is not necessarily very strong. In regard
to the extension of the political franchise, it is held that the
TACTICS OF DEBATE. 243
burden of proof lies upon those that would exclude any class
from this privilege.
111. There are various maxims appertaining to the
Tactics of Argument and Debate.
When strong opposition is encountered, it is often prudent
to deviate from the strict methods of Argument.
o
If a sufficiency of conclusive arguments can be had, those
of inferior force are not unwisely kept back, because the refu-
tation of any part of the case is apt to make an unfavorable
impression.
A speaker contending against great odds, endeavors to carry
to the utmost point, and to set forth with effect, his agreement
with the other side.
Chatham, in arguing for conciliation with America, took
care always to show that he was not inferior to any one in zeal
for the supremacy of the British crown : — " Though he loved
the Americans, as men prizing and setting the just value on
that inestimable blessing, Liberty ; yet, if he could once bring
himself to be persuaded that they entertained the most distant
intentions of throwing off the legislative supremacy and great
constitutional superintending power and control of the British
legislature, he should be the very person himself who would be
the first and most zealous mover for securinor and enforcing
that power by every possible exertion this country was capable
of making."
The same policy will suggest the surrender, on some occa-
sions, of positions fully defensible by argument.
It is desirable to state, or appear to state, in their full force,
objections that have taken possession of the minds of the hearers.
This was a characteristic of Fox. Whately remarks that, in
combating deep-rooted prejudices, and in maintaining unpopu-
lar and paradoxical truths, the aim should be to adduce what is
sufficient, and not much more than sufficient, to prove the con-
clusion. There is danger in urging too forcibly what the nearer
is not as yet fully prepared to receive.
The mistake of overdoing a case was committed in the im-
244 PERSUASION.
peachment of Warren Hastings. See, as an example, Burke's
Climax, p. 58.
112. III. We must now advert to the Oratory of the
Feelings.
All Persuasion supposes that there are some feelings or hu-
man susceptibilities to work upon. In Argument, no attempt
is made to heighten or diminish the feelings themselves ; it is
considered only how to bring a case under them.
The motives whereby human beings can be impelled may
come under five heads.
(1.) Present, or Actual, Pleasures and Pains. Our sensi-
bilities to pleasure and pain are either the Senses (taken along
with Movement), or the Emotions, as, Tender Emotion, Power,
Self-esteem, Anger, Fear, Knowledge, Fine Art Emotion, Moral
Sentiment. Some of these, as the Senses, are ultimate or fun-
damental ; others, as Knowledge, Fine Art, Moral Sentiment,
may be, in whole or in part, derived.
The resources of the orator are of little avail towards the
pleasures and pains of the senses ; but he can stimulate and
strengthen every one of the emotions.
(2.) The Ideas of future Pleasures and Pains. We are moved
by pleasure and pain to come ; taking steps to secure the one,
and to avoid the other. Now, to be so moved, we must have
an idea or notion of the pleasure or the pain, obtained by ade-
quately recollecting our past experience of each ; a feeble recol-
lection is inoperative on the will. Hence Prudence is identical
with a perfect memory for past good and evil, which enables
future good and evil to be effectively kept in view.
The persuasive art is capable of bodying forth the future
consequences of our actions, so as to urge us forward in one
line of conduct, and deter us from another.
(3.) Certain Objects representing Aggregates of Pleasures
or Pains ; as, health, money, knowledge, profession, station,
reputation, family, society, law, morality, and all the subor-
dinate institutions and arrangements branching out from these.
The regard to these objects is an effect of their connection
OEATOET OF THE FEELINGS. 245
with our ultimate or immediate sensibilities, and their pursuit
accords with our sense of this connection.
It is a part of our moral education to appreciate these sev-
eral aggregate and intermediate ends at their true value, as
bearing upon the ultimate ends ; and the orator may act as our
instructor, raising our estimate when too low, and depressing it
when too high. His instrumentality is the depicting of man's
experience in all that relates to the connection between the two
classes of ends.
(4.) Impassioned Objects, or Ends. It is a fact of our con-
stitution, that we are often seized with an ardor of pursuit, or a
degree of aversion, having no proportionate regard to pleasure
secured, or pain warded off. In general, it is some highly ex-
citing emotion that disturbs the even balance of the will ; such
as Fear, Anger, Ambition, Affection. In a state of terror, or
panic, people are said to lose self-command ; they will even sac-
rifice pleasure and hasten towards ruin.
Oratory has here a commanding efficacy.
(5.) The Pleasures and Pains of others, or Sympathy.
"We can take on, in a manner, the pleasures and pains of
others, and, in doing so, we are moved to act for these as for
our own. This is the nature of pity, compassion, or fellow-
feeling ; and it is the main spring of social duty and goodness.
An orator can inspire sympathy and benevolence by represent-
ing in lively colors the pains of others.
113. It will be sufficient for our purpose to exemplify
the address to the Feelings under these three heads : —
1st, Our own Pleasures and Pains considered as remote ;
which may include aggregate or associated objects or
ends ; 2d, Sympathy with others ; 3d, the Emotions and
Passions.
To awaken us to act for our future pleasures, these must be
described in adequate language, and with circumstances of cred-
ibility. If the pleasures and pains have been already expe-
rienced, we should need only to be reminded of them, but for
the predominance of some present state, which will not allow
246 PERSUASION.
us to believe in their arrival. Feelings that have not been ex-
perienced must be described by combining those that have ;
attachment to an inanimate thing, as a house, a garden, or a
locality, may be pictured by reference to affection for a person.
(See the arts of Subjective Description.)
To induce the belief that from a certain course of action
future pleasures or pains will ensue, it is requisite to appeal to
something parallel in the experience of those addressed, or to
fire the imagination by means of lively descriptions. The evils
of disobedience, of sloth, of mendacity, of intemperance, are
made intense by strong statements and lively coloring.
The incentives to industry are future comfort, ease, inde-
pendence, opulence, with all its train ; and the avoidance of the
opposite evils. The means of securing conviction are examples
of successful industry of a kind to make an impression on the
hearers, and the working up of their experience so far as it has
already gone.
The care of Health is urged as being a prime condition of
all enjoyment, and as able to make a small circle of stimulants
more satisfying than the greatest luxuries without it ; while dis-
ease and an exhausted frame are other names for pain and life-
weariness. The means to be employed are temperance, exercise,
due remission of labor, and the like ; and these are enforced by
the weight of experience, example, and authority.
The motives to the pursuit of Knowledge are numerous and
various. The applications of it to further all other ends, the
dignity it gives to the possessor, the gratification of the natural
longings of the intellect, when urged in all the fulness of detail,
and expressed in graceful language, constitute some of the finest
specimens of oratory.
The following passage, from Sir John Herschel, adduces a
variety of powerful incentives to the cultivation of knowledge
and literature : —
" If I were to pray for a taste which should stand me in stead
under every variety of circumstances, and be a source of happiness
and cheerfulness to me through life, and a shield against its ills,
however things might go amiss, and the world frown upon me, it
would be a taste for reading. I speak of it of course only as a
AGGREGATE EXDS OF PURSUIT. 247
worldly advantage, and not in the slightest degree as superseding
or derogating from the higher office and surer and stronger panoply
of religious principles, but as a taste, an instrument, and a mode of
pleasurable gratification. Give a man this taste, and the means of
gratifying it, and you can hardly fail of making a happy man, un-
less, indeed, you put into his hands a most perverse selection of
books. You place him in contact with the best society in every
period of history, with the wisest, the wittiest, with the tenderest,
the bravest, and the purest characters who have adorned humanity.
You make him a denizen of all nations, a contemporary of all ages.
The world has been created for him. It is hardly possible but the
character should take a higher and better tone from the constant
habit of associating, in thought, with a class of thinkers, to say the
least of it, above the average of humanity. It is morally impossi-
ble but that the manners should take a tinge of good breeding and
civilization from having constantly before one's eyes the way in
which the best-bred and the best-informed men have talked and
conducted themselves in their intercourse with each other. There
is a gentle but perfectly irresistible coercion in the habit of reading,
well directed, over the whole tenor of a man's character and con-
duct, which is not the less effectual because it works insensibly, and
because it is really the last thing he dreams of. It civilizes the con-
duct of men, and suffers them not to remain barbarous."
The gaining of Esteem, Friendship, and a Good Name, like
all other valuable ends, demands labor and self-denial. The in-
ducements are the numerous benefits, direct and indirect, arising
from the favor and good dispositions of others ; these are backed
and enforced by examples and appeals to the direct experience
of the hearers.
The higher flights of wealth, power, and fame, that place a
man on a glittering pinnacle, belong to the Impassioned Ends ;
there being no necessary correspondence between the labor they
cost and the happiness they bring.
The Future Existence of man is the leading object of Re-
ligious Oratory. Its nature, being unknown and unknowable,
must be shaped by imagination ; and the description of it has
varied in different ages, being more or less accommodated to
the views and feelings of the persons addressed.
Almost all the Virtues have a self-regarding effect, and in so
far may be included in the aggregate or associated ends. Truth
gains for a man esteem and reliance, enlarges his influence, and
facilitates his projects. Being just to others tends to make
248 PEESUASION.
others just to us. Acts of kindness obtain for us kindness in
return. Our own security is involved in social obedience, and
in respect to law and government. This part of the case in
favor of virtuous actions is always made prominent in the Ora-
tory of Moral Suasion.
114. Secondly, Sympathy with the Pleasures and
the Pains of others.
When we enter into the pain of another person, we are
prompted to work for the alleviation of that pain, as if we our-
selves were the sufferers. Although the outgoings of this
tendency of our constitution are often self-regarding, it must be
viewed as containing a purely disinterested impulse ; under it
we absolutely give away a portion of our own labor, and resign
a portion of our own happiness, without any return or any
thought of a return.
The principle extends to pleasures also ; the sight of another's
happiness would prompt us to aid in continuing the blissful
state ; and this without any view to our own good. But the
alleviation of pain is the more absorbing interest
To rouse sympathy, or call into exercise the disinterested
impulses, an orator presents a strong and intelligible case of dis-
tress, misery, or sorrow. It is not every description of suffer-
ing, that will bring forth a pitying response from every class of
hearers. Each one can best enter into the miseries that he has
oftenest experienced and felt most ; the pains that find universal
sympathy are the pains of universal human nature — hunger,
cold, physical disabilities, disease, poverty, danger to life, loss
of objects of affection, public shame. If a misery unfamiliar to
those addressed is to call for pity, it must be brought home by
comparison with something familiar and known.
The pleadings of philanthropy for the poor, the outcast,
the neglected, the degraded, are a series of delineations of
human misery.
The awakening of sympathy towards suffering is also of
avail in stimulating men to fulfil their duties and engagements
to others. Hence this is a large instrumentality in Moral Sua-
APPEAL TO THE EMOTIONS. 249
sion. It is the mode of procuring the degree of self-sacrifice
required in the ordinary obligations of Jife.
The appeal of pity was recognized in ancient oratory as the
argument ad misericordiam. It is the common resource in the
defence of criminals, aud in saving people from the consequences
of their own misconduct.
115. Thirdly, the Emotions and Passions ; as, Fear,
Love, Self-esteem, Power, Anger, Ridicule, ^Esthetic
Emotion, Eeligion, the Moral Sentiment.
In one respect, these may be viewed as pleasures or pains,
and as attracting or deterring us, according to their felt inten-
sity, whether they be actual or anticipated. Such are the
pleasures of affection, of self-complacency, revenge, fine art;
and the pains of sorrow, humiliation, remorse. In another
aspect they take on the character of passion or inflammation,
disturbing the fair calculations of the will, and inducing us to
act without reference to our pleasures or our pains.
(1.) Fear, Terror, or Dread. "Whatever pains us is an ob-
ject of avoidance, according to our sense of the pain. This is
not fear, but the usual attitude of precaution against harm.
But, on certain occasions, pain in prospect is accompanied with
a tremulous and unhinging excitement, under which the powers
are enfeebled, and rational calculation is interfered with ; every
other interest being sacrificed to the morbid impulse.
Terror is a powerful agent in overcoming the contumacious
and self-willed disposition, and is made use of in government, in
religion, and in education. The passion may be excited by the
mere prospect of great suffering, but still more effectually by
unknown dangers, uncertainties, and vast possibilities of evil in
matters keenly felt by the hearers. The approach of unexpe-
rienced calamities is apt to engender panic ; under a plague, or
epidemic, people may be easily frightened into measures, that
in cool moments they would repudiate. The sick and the de-
pressed can readily be inspired with religious and moral terrors.
History furnishes many examples of political oratory suc-
ceeding through the excitement of terror.
11*
250 PERSUASION.
The dislike to innovation and to relaxing the severity of
general rules, often takes the form of panic or dread, with ex-
aggeration of the consequences. Hence it is a usual device of
Rhetoric, to paint future possibilities in cases where no great
immediate evil can be proved. This is exemplified in the speech
of Brutus : —
" And, since the quarrel
Will bear no color for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus ; that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these and these extremities:
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg,
Which, hatched, would, as his kind, grow mischievous ;
And kill him in the shell."
(2.) Love, Tenderness, Affection, Admiration, Esteem. The
outgoings of the tender emotion add a new charm to what
pleases us, and we are then said to contract love, or affection,
for persons or for things. A still higher mixture of approving
sentiment leads to esteem, admiration, and reverence. To raise
our affection or esteem for persons, the orator labors to set forth
everything that is amiable and admirable in their character and
connections. Such eulogistic oratory has to be supported by
evidence, embellished by suitable illustration, and guarded
against the reaction of envy.
The following passage is a sample of the art of extolling by
suitable circumstances. The theme is Greece.
"The interest of Grecian history is unexhausted and inexhaust-
ible. As a mere story, hardly any other portion of authentic his-
tory can compete with it. Its characters, its situations, the very
march of its incidents, are Epic. Jt is an heroic poem, of which the
personages are peoples. It is also, of all histories of which we
know so much, the most abounding in consequences to us who now
live. The true ancestors of the European nations (it has been well
said) are not those from whose blood they are sprung, but those
from whom they derive the richest portion of their inheritance.
The battle of Marathon, even as an event in English history, is
more important than the battle of Hastings. If the issue of that
day had been different, the Britons and the Saxons might still have
been wandering in the woods."
The ancients recognized, as a department of oratory, the
Epideictic, or Demonstrative, by which was meant general
commendation and its opposite, with no immediate aim except
THE AFFECTIONS. 251
to excite the feelings and perhaps cultivate the moral senti-
ments. It was a land of moral suasion, the nearest approach
to our pulpit oratory, and, like it, in close alliance with poetry.
The subject-matter of the Epideictic addresses included both
gods and men. The eulogistic funeral oration was a common
example.
The impulses of pity, generosity, or disinterestedness, arc
greatly strengthened, when the object of them inspires our love
or esteem ; while, on the other hand, they are neutralized by
positive bad qualities. Accordingly, the orator in calling for our
sympathy and help, joins commendation of the sufferer to the
recital of his sufferings. The speech of Mark Antony is a skil-
ful union of both modes of appeal.
To the present head belongs the stirring up of the strong
affections of kindred or family, social fraternity, party, and
country. The influence of the family sentiments as an engine
of persuasion is seen in the memorable incident of the con-
demnation of the ten generals at Athens. (Grote's Greece,
Chap. 64.)
The love of country is addressed and inflamed by the polit-
ical orator. But this usually appears under the much stronger
feeling of party ; the political attachments of individuals taking
the special direction of some one line of policy — conservatism or
improvement, aristocracy or democracy. Still, an orator thinks
it not altogether vain to appeal in a great emergency to the
pure sentiment of country. " Irksome as is my task this day,"
said the younger Pitt, in a critical moment of his career, " the
necessities of the country call upon me not to shrink from it ;
and / confide in the good sense and the patriotism of the people
of England"
The sentiment of esteem, respect, admiration, or reverence,
towards any one, inclines us to defer to his opinions and views,
and is in that way a means of persuasion ; being called, in an-
cient times, the argument ad verecundiam. Great men in the
state acquire an ascendency over the minds of a large number
of people ; and it is enough, for ensuring a disposition favorable
to any measure, to cite Washington or Jefferson, Pitt or Fox.
252 PERSUASION.
When there is a hostile feeling, so strong as to refuse a hearing
to what is proposed, an appeal to venerable authorities is of the
greatest efficacy. The dislike to innovation is often soothed
down in this way.
The speaker's own authority counts as an element. If he
is held in esteem, his assertions have weight, apart from their
evidence, and obversely. A large proportion of speaking
and writing consists of unproved assertions, and, unless a
hearer's dispositions or his information be adverse, some effect
is produced by them. To this the tone or manner of the
speaker, in respect of earnestness, emphasis, or energy, greatly
contributes.
The religious sentiment, embracing fear, love, and wonder
or the feeling of the sublime, is nourished by appealing to
these several emotions in connection with the great object of
worship. Pulpit oratory has varied the appeal in almost every
possible way; while many poets, as such, have adopted the
theme.
The whole of the present class of emotions may attain the
height of passion, through mere natural intensity of feeling, ex-
cessive indulgence, or one-sidedness of character. We have
frequent examples in the maternal feeling, in hero-worship, in
party spirit, and in religion carried to bigotry.
(3.) Vanity, Pride, and the Sentiment of Power. These
feelings are distinct but allied, and conjointly they make up the
egotism of the human character. The orator appeals to them
by compliment, praise, or flattery, regulated according to the
susceptibilities of the audience ; he also observes a courteous
demeanor, and the forms of politeness.
Oratorical flattery is administered through such common-
places as the natural equality of men (addressed to those in an
inferior position), the natural goodness and dignity of human
nature, the sound judgment of the feelings or the heart, the
good sense of the common people, the admirable instincts of
women, the innocence of childhood.
The argument ad captandum is either an appeal to some
vulgar prejudice, or a strong dose of flattery.
ANGRY FEELING. 253
The extreme and impassioned form of the egotistic impulses
is called Ambition, to which human nature, and especially youth,
is easily inflamed by examples of men elevated to fame or power.
By the intoxicating idea of glory, many, in all ages, have been
tempted to incur the hazards of the profession of arms. Napo-
leon stimulated his troops by the carriere ouverte, — the laying
open of the highest rank to the hopes of the common soldier.
The line of Homer,
alev apiareveiv ml v-rreipoxov e/i/ievai ak7,uv,
has been often recited to fire the ambition of ardent minds.
The high self-regarding sentiments of pride, dignity, inde-
pendence, self-respect, may operate as aids to morality, and are
therefore frequently appealed to in the oratory of moral sua-
sion.
(4.) Anger, Indignation, Hatred, Antipathy. Anger, or
irascible emotion, is a state superadded to mere aversion, conse-
quent on pain or suffering caused by some other sentient being.
The angry person is excited to unusual energy, and also derives
pleasure from retaliating upon the author of the pain. When we
contract a permanent disposition to inflict harm on those that
give us pain, we are said to entertain malevolent affection, or
Hatred. When the hatred is intense, and aggravated by fear
or disgust, it is called Antipathy. In all its forms, the malevo-
lent sentiment is sufficiently powerful to demand the considera-
tion of the orator.
By representing persons as having specially injured us, or
by attributing to them bad qualities, a speaker rouses against
them the angry feelings of an audience. Vituperation, abuse,
depreciation, calumny, find a place in the oratory of all ages.
Demosthenes, Cicero, Chatham, Fox, Burke, Pitt, Sheridan, and
John Randolph, of Roanoke, all wielded the instrument, and
probably to excess. In a jury trial arising out of the impeach-
ment of Warren Hastings, Erskine describes the speeches
against Hastings as " anathemas of superhuman eloquence."
Besides craving the sweets of ordinary revenge, men are
prone to special antipathies, by which they may be swayed to
254: PEESUASION.
acts of violent hostility. Such were the sentiments of the Jews
towards foreigners, and the antipathy in the Middle Ages to a
heretic or a witch.
Party feeling has, at various times, as in the Roman Repub-
lic, and during the first French Revolution, reached a degree of
virulent hatred that nothing but the extermination of opponents
would satisfy. In that state of feeling, to denounce a man was
to ensure his ruin.
The most favorable aspect of the vindictive feeling is what
is termed moral or righteous indignation. The orator appeals
to it by making out a case of aggravated criminality. Such
doubtless was the aim of Burke, Fox, and Sheridan, in the Hast-
ings impeachment.
(5.) Ridicule, Derision, Contempt. It is chiefly under the
malignant extreme, called Ridicule, that the ludicrous is instru-
mental in persuasion. Seeking out the mean and despicable
side of an opponent, with a view to weaken and destroy his
influence, the orator brings to bear upon him a flood of de-
grading illustration.
The Provincial Letters of Pascal are an example of the power
of irony, humor, and ridicule brought in aid of argument. Swift
and Voltaire are perhaps the two greatest masters of the art,
Paul Louis Courier and Sydney Smith, have more recently dis-
played powers of a high order in the same department. It is
usual to combine, as in Junius, ridicule with vituperation.
Comic and satiric poetry has in all ages been used as an
oratorical weapon, often more powerful than speeches. Aris-
tophanes had no small share in the condemnation of Socrates.
Extravagance and Sentimentality are the natural butt of
derision and ridicule. We cannot wonder at Francis's reply to
Burke's passage on Marie Antoinette : — " Are you such a deter-
mined champion of beauty as to draw your sword in defence of
any jade upon earth, provided she be handsome ? "
(6.) The Emotions of Fine Art. The elements of Poetry
may be introduced to heighten the effect of oratory, when the
orator combines the genius of the poet. The poetic charm or
fascination thrown around a subject is a bribe to gain over the
THE MORAL SENTIMENT. 255
audience to the opinions of the speaker. A highly poetical
oratory may he seen in Jeremy Taylor, Burke, Robert Hall,
Macaulay, Shiel, Chalmers, Carlyle, and many others.
The address to any of the feelings partakes of the method
of Poetry. The preacher, for example, who has to draw out
and strengthen the religious and moral sentiments, mast pro-
ceed hy appropriate descriptions, comhinations, and narrations,
in the manner of an artist.
The laws that regulate the appeal to the feelings in a work
of Art, apply to an Oration by which feeling is to be stirred, or
interest excited. The chief maxims are two : — first, to proceed
from the gentler to the stronger effects in the manner of a cli-
max ; and, secondly, to alternate the different emotions, or kinds
of interest. There should also be a concentration of the interest
at points, or stages, as in the evolution of a story.
(7.) The Moral Sentiment. In so far as the sentiment of
right and wrong is made up (as it must be to a large extent
through the kindred nature of the things) of our prudence as
regards self, and of our sympathies as regards others, it is stim-
ulated by an appeal to those principles of action. Anything
that it may contain distinct or apart from these, in the shape
of habits of acting according to the recognized rules of morality,
is brought into play by a reference to the rule in each case, and
to the weight of authority in its favor.
It is a species of indirect flattery, not without effect, to as-
sume in the hearers a greater sense of duty than perhaps actually
belongs to them. Still, it is desirable, for the sake of keeping
up a high tone of address, never to lose sight of the moral sen-
timent in the choice of weapons of persuasion.
Much of the oratory of moral suasion operates chiefly in
presenting to the mind ideals, as in poetry ; there being no
serious care or endeavor on the part of the hearers to adapt
their conduct to the high-toned precepts of the orator.
116. There are certain things to be noted respecting
the management of the Feelings generally.
(1.) As regards the speaker's own manifestations of feeling,
256 PERSUASION.
it is better that he should restrain himself until the audience
begin to kindle, and then they will expect him to do the same.
The orator's display of his own feelings is a chief instrument
of infecting others ; but his appearing to restrain himself will
often make the hearers burst out all the sooner.
(2.) There are allied groups of feelings, and also oppositions
among them. Thus Sympathy, Affection, and Fine Art Emo-
tion, conspire to produce a favorable sentiment. They are op-
posed by the Egotistic class, by the different forms of Anger,
and by Ridicule, these making a kindred group among them-
selves. There is also an opposition between Anger and Fear,
rendering them mutually incompatible.
(3.) The orator will occasionally seek to divert the feelings
of the audience already roused. Intense emotion demands its
appropriate vent ; indignation once excited requires a victim,
and the only way of rescuing one is to provide another. A
burst of ridicule is met by returning it.
(4.) There is understood to be in every attempt at persua-
sion a groundwork of argument, or of the appearance of argu-
ment, whereon to rest the appeals to the passions.
117. The Demeanor of the Speaker includes certain
points affecting an orator's success.
By the demeanor of the speaker, are signified his tone and
manner in general, and, in particular, his choice between the
opposite methods of conciliation and vituperation, humility and
assumption.
Conciliation is necessary in facing a strong opposition ; but
the force of a conciliatory manner is much enhanced by the
known power of the speaker to denounce with severity.
So with regard to humility and deference, as opposed to as-
sumption. There are times when an orator can with safety
assume the oracular and the self-confident tone, as was so often
done by Chatham and by the younger Pitt. It is by means of
a more humble address, however, that a speaker contends against
difficulties, and rises to a position enabling him to dispense with
humility of demeanor.
POETRY. 257
Persuasive address, when called Eloquence, usually supposes
a certain energetic delivery and elevation of manner, which dis-
tinguish oratory from common speech. The language and the
thoughts of the speaker are more intense, and the hearer is
roused to the like impassioned pitch. Men's ordinary motives
are increased in power, and their determinations are such as
would not be arrived at in cool blood. In this impassioned mode
of address, the language becomes strongly rhythmical, approach-
ing to poetry ; and is accompanied by the music of the voice
and the arts of Elocution.
CHAPTER V.
POETRY.
118. Poetky has been already often referred to.
Most of the Figures of Speech have a poetical bearing. The
Arrangement and the Number of "Words are regulated in part
by the aims of poetry. Of the Qualities of Style, Strength,
Feeling, the Ludicrous, Harmony, are unconnected with the
conveyance of instruction to the understanding ; and, when
combined with Exposition, are an avowedly extraneous interest.
Oratory likewise avails itself of the poetic charms.
119. Poetry is a Fine Art, operating by means of
thought conveyed in language.
Poetry agrees generically with painting, sculpture, archi-
tecture, and music ; and its specific mark is derived from the
instrumentality employed. Painting is based on color, sculp-
ture on form, music on a peculiar class of sounds, elocution on
the vocal enunciation of articulate speech, and poetry on the
meaning and form of lanjniage.
The definition now given supposes an understanding of Fine
Art in general, or, as it is sometimes called, the Beautiful in its
widest acceptation.
258 POETRY.
The feelings of the Beautiful, or the Fine Art emotions, are
included among our pleasures, and the objects causing them
differ from other agreeable things in the following points : —
(1.) Their primary and immediate intention is Pleasure ; and
they are contrasted with intermediate ends, as life, health, money,
or worldly rank.
(2.) Works of Art are sources of pure or unmixed pleasure ;
that is, they are kept free from whatever would offend any of
our sensibilities. They have thus a certain superiority over our
sensual enjoyments. Refinement consists in removing painful
adjuncts from our various sources of delight.
(3.) A work of Art, unlike the things that perish in giving
delight to one individual, admits the p participation of a multitude.
A picture, a poem, or a fine building, can be enjoyed by succes-
sive generations of men It is chiefly what appeals to one or
other of the higher senses — sight and hearing — that com-
plies with this demand. Objects of gustatory sensibility are
consumed by the single user; odors affect a greater number,
but are still limited; things that gratify the feelings of touch
and muscularity — a bed or a chair — are monopolized for
the time. It is the ennobling function of Art to draw human
beings together in mutual sympathy and common enjoyment,
instead of holding out occasions of strife and apples of discord.
To Art we should thus oppose the Useful, as embodied in
objects of common industry, — food, clothing, houses, articles
of convenience, public security, &c. We should likewise oppose
science, or the pursuit of Truth, which is not generally an end
in itself, and whose study to the mass of men is more laborious
than pleasurable. The Ethical, or the Good, is also contrasted
with the Artistic, since duty is not necessarily pleasure, and
often the reverse. It must be noted, however, that the Useful,
the True, and the Good, are all capable of occasionally lending
themselves to Art. The objects of the inferior senses, when set
forth in idea, are exalted into the class of the diffusible and the
free. The fragrant bosom of Andromache and Aphrodite finds
a place in Homer's poetry. Truth, when not painfully labori-
ous, possesses the requisites of artistic interest. The Good, or
TYPICAL FOKM OF POETRY. 259
Duty, as a spectacle, or an ideal, is highly aesthetic. The ex-
istence of didactic poetry from the earliest times (Hesiod —
"Works and Days ; Virgil — Georgics, &c), is a proof that it is
possible to ground poetry on utility, and invest common oc-
cupations with artistic interest. All that is said about the poet
as a teacher has sprung from the frequent poetic treatment of
communicated knowledge, and still more of duty.
120. There are certain subjects and a certain form
that are typical of Poetry. Many (so-called) poems de-
part from the type.
The elements characteristic of poetry will appear as we pro-
ceed. We may here indicate, as examples approaching to pu-
rity, the Elegy of Gray, the Faerie Queen, the plays and poems
of Shakespeare, the Homeric poetry, the yEneid.
These may be contrasted with the various mixed kinds:
namely, Didactic poems, as the Ars Poetica, the Georgics, the
Essay on Criticism ; Moral poems, as the Night Thoughts, and
the poetry of Cow^per ; Philosophical or Scientific poems, as
the work of Lucretius, Pope's Essay on Man, Darwin's Zoono-
mia; Satirical poems, as the Satires of Juvenal, and the Dun-
ciad.
The feelings awakened by the typical form of poetry are the
pleasures characteristic of Fine Art ; we express them by the
names — charm, fascination, delight ; they incline to pure feel-
ing, or to the passive susceptibilities of our nature. The " Lo-
tos-eaters " of Tennyson, the " Endymion " and " Nightingale "
of Keats, the " Cloud " of Shelley, are extreme instances. A
perfect example is seen in the lines —
" How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank !
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears ; soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica : look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold ;
There's not the smallest orb which thou beholdest,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim."
When a poem kindles enthusiasm, fire, high and noble as-
260 POETEY.
pirations, it has touched the springs of action and become
eloquence. Much of Lyric poetry works in this manner. The
quality of strength, or the sublime, which confers the elation of
superior might, being akin to activity, always verges on per-
suasion. The greatest compositions are, not the pure poems,
but those that, without submerging artistic beauty, can both
exercise the intellectual powers and stimulate the active dis-
positions of the mind.
121. In explaining the Qualities of Strength, Feel-
ing, Humor, and Melody, we anticipated the leading con-
stituents of Poetry. A fuller handling is now desirable.
I. Poetry, in the first place, selects materials from
external nature ; the selection being governed by aesthet-
ic feeling.
"Whatever intrinsically delights the eye, or the ear, is ad-
mitted into Fine Art. Pleasing colors, forms, and sounds, are
beautiful. These, which are called the sensuous properties of
the world, are the foundation and material of all the Fine Arts.
It must be laid down, in opposition to Alison, that certain
effects of sight and hearing are originally and intrinsically agree-
able. The effulgence of the noon-day, the colors of sunset, the
varied hues of vegetation, the pellucid brook, the lustre of the
pearl, the youthful countenance, — operate upon the primitive
sensibility of the eye, causing a sensation of delight. Rounded
forms are pleasing in themselves. So, there are sounds intrin-
sically sweet, that is, pleasurable. The painter, having color
and form for his material, appeals to the immediate sense. The
poet can only suggest them to the mind by the force of descrip-
tive art ; his direct instrument is language.
The circumstance that language is best adapted to express
action, succession, or events, still farther limits the poetic selec-
tion and treatment of subjects. A vast and variegated scene,
in unbroken stillness, is suited to the painter, but not to the
poet. Such objects as, from their simplicity or familiarity, are
in themselves easily conceived, when put in action or undergo-
ing changes also easily conceivable, are the proper material of
EXTEENAL NATUEE. 261
poetry. The simpler grandeurs and beauties of inanimate
nature, undergoing their characteristic movements or changes,
are freely made use of; day and night, seasons, tempests, light-
nings, torrents, rivers, sea-billows, earthquakes ; but scenes la-
borious to conceive are necessarily avoided. (See Descrip-
tion, § 17.) The personifying treatment of nature imparts, in
the first instance, a fictitious activity to objects in themselves
stationary.
Thus the visible objects of nature and all the sounds of
nature, possessing an original charm, are open to the poet, and,
as occasion suits, he brings them to mind. He must farther in-
clude the circle of associated effects, by which the domain of
Art is greatly enlarged. "Whatever suggests pleasing emotions
is freely adopted by the artist ; the hue of rosy health, the trans-
parency of the unpolluted stream, the quiet surface of the lake,
are effects superadded to the original impressions on the sight.
The smoke of a distant cottage always affected Burns and
Wordsworth with home associations.
The suggestion of remoteness and vast magnitude imparts
sublimity to the Alpine prospect and the celestial expanse.
The associated effects of sounds are likewise numerous ; as
the moan of the wind, the dashing of the torrent, the purling
of the brook, the roar of the sea, the boom of artillery, the
merry note of the lark, the solitary cry of the owl, the decep-
tive voice of the cuckoo (Wordsworth).
The associations of industry in the streets of busy towns, of
rural quiet in the fields, of time, decay, and of past ages in
crumbling and moss-grown walls, excite various and interesting
emotions, sufficiently pleasing to be admitted into Art.
These effects of outward things, whether intrinsic or asso-
ciated, often chime in with feelings otherwise arising. Strong
light and intense colors harmonize with gayety of mind ; gloom
and sombre hues are in keeping with depression and sorrow.
The sound of the martial trumpet suits hilarious excitement;
the quietness of the country is sought for in repose.
A susceptibility to the sensuous influences of nature, and to
the emotions suggested by them — whether inclining to power,
262 POETRY.
or to pathos — must exist in a high degree in the poet, and in a
considerable, if less, degree, in the minds of such as receive de-
light from poetry. And, as the poet's instrument or material is
language, a feeling for Numbers must exist in addition.
122. II. Our interest in Humanity is made to enter
largely into Poetry, as into the other Fine Arts.
The interest in human beings is various and complex, while
a certain portion of it extends to the lower animals. In so far
as available in Art, it turns chiefly on the following points : —
(1.) The contemplation of might, strength, greatness, su-
periority, admirable or shining qualities, — whether in individ-
uals or in collective bodies. The frame and deeds of a Hercu-
les ; the adroitness of a Ulysses ; the skill of a great politician,
general, or other expert in practical affairs ; the energy and en-
durance of a strong will ; creative originality in science and in
art ; high artistic excellence, — raise in the mind of the beholder
that pleasurable elation already described as culminating in the
Sublime. (Strength.)
Mere superiority of good fortune, as shown in wealth, splen-
dor, rank, and power, fascinate the gaze of the spectator ; and
the representation of it may be a source of pleasure.
The unrestrained worship of strength leads to the adulation
of great conquerors — Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon — and pre-
pares the mind for receiving the maxim, " Might is right."
It is unnecessary to dwell again on the process of attribut-
ing human energy to inanimate objects, whereby the whole face
of nature is rendered active, and overspread with an adventi-
tious expression of feeling. Human sentiments are suggested
to the poet in a thousand various forms. Thus in Lear : —
" I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness ;
I never gave you kingdom, called you children ! "
(2.) The displays of sympathy, tenderness, affection, devot-
edness, are a source of warm interest. The powerful attractions
between human beings are largely dwelt upon by the poet.
The love of the sexes, parental tenderness, the attachments of
kindred and of friendship, presented in description or in story,
INTEREST IN HOIAXTTY. 263
are capable of awakening responsive echoes and interesting rec-
ollections in the hearer. (Pathos.)
The picture of devotedness is always affecting. The interest
excited by it is peculiar, and not always free from self-regarding
considerations. One man's voluntary renunciation of good
things is the conferring of them upon somebody else. Ascetic
self-denial is highly esteemed, partly from the moral energy
implied in the restraint, and partly from its leaving unconsumed
the individual's share of gratifications. On similar grounds, the
rigid observance of all the laws and customs of society is pleas-
ing to contemplate.
(3.) The littleness, insignificance, and worthlessness of hu-
man beings, when such as to arouse the emotions of the Ludi-
crous, give an interest to our observation of the ways of men.
See the Ludicrous.
Characters too hateful for derision may be poetically inter-
esting, provided our feelings of anger, antipathy, and detestation
can be gratified by their condign punishment.
(4.) Our moral sentiments determine us to look with pleas-
ure upon those that fulfil their requirements.
From these various considerations, the portraying of char-
acter, and the representation of human beings in action, belong
pre-eminently to the poetic department, although appearing also
in narrative or history.
. 123. III. Conereteness and Combination, as opposed
to the abstract and the isolated, are characteristic of
Poetry.
AVe have formerly seen that objects in the concrete, that is,
as they appear in nature to the senses, are easier to conceive
than their properties viewed abstractedly : a river is readily con-
ceivable ; the abstractions — gravity, accelerated velocity, liquid-
itv, transparency — are notions laboriously acquired by scientific
studv. The abstractions of science have a double disqualifica-
tion for Poetry ; they discard in a great degree the sensuous
element of color, and entail intellectual effort.
In addition to conereteness, it is sought to multiply and
264 POETRY.
combine objects and effects ; while science proceeds by separa-
tion, isolation, or analysis. Combination, or Creation, has al-
ways entered into the notion of the poet (tto^tt/c, a maker).
In old English, the same idea appears. Thus, in Spenser —
" And hath he skill to make so excellent — ." As a painter groups
in a landscape as many objects as can enter into the general
effect, so a poem is made to combine scenery, situations, cir-
cumstances, characters, and incidents, subject only to the indis-
pensable condition of harmony.
It is enough, on this head, to refer to any known poem.
Observe in the successive stanzas of Gray's " Elegy " an accumu-
lation of examples bearing on the main theme, and in every ex-
ample an accumulation of picturesque circumstances.
The Epithets applied in poetic description are, in the first
place, designed to combine and accumulate interesting partic-
ulars. They are farther expected to be harmoniously adjusted.
And, in addition, their novelty imparts interest and freshness to
the object they are applied to. The Homeric poetry exemplifies
largely the process of combining by descriptive epithets; —
the many-fountained, spring-abounding Ida; steed-taming
Thrace; the white-armed, large-eyed Juno ; the cloud-compel-
ling, tegis-bearing Jove ; winged words; the sea-bathed fort;
storm-swift Iris ; the fishy deep. The same process has been
continued by succeeding poets.
Objects and situations occurring in Poetry are beset with
circumstances and collaterals, provided by the genius of the
poet. Sometimes they are happily selected from the complex-
ity of the thing itself, as in the " Seven Ages." At other times,
they are added on from without. What follows under the next
head will embrace the present subject.
124. IT. A poem, or other work of Art, especially
involves the production of Harmony.
A plurality of things affecting the senses or the mind to-
gether may be either in concord or in discord; the one gives
pleasure, the other pain. The pleasure of concord or harmony
is often intense ; it is sought to be realized in all the Fine Arts.
HARMONY ESSENTIAL. 265
Music is sweet sounds made sweeter by harmony ; painting har-
monizes color and form in the first place, and, next, the subjects
expressed by them.
With regard to the Language, or Diction, of Poetry, con-
sidered as sound, we have seen (Melody) that language may
be both melodious in itself, and also expressive, that is, in har-
mony with the feelings of the speaker. Both these effects are
aimed at by the poet.
(1.) In the poetic description of outward things, all the par-
ticulars selected, the illustrative language, and the march of the
verse, must conspire to support the emotion of the scene. Mil-
ton's Eden may be studied as an example ; the " Seasons " fur-
nish numerous instances. See, also', the Lotos-Eaters.
Pope's Windsor Forest has been blamed as deficient in
scenic harmony.
In this, and in every other department of Poetry, and of
Fine Art, the creating of harmony results from a keen sense of
the emotional effect of the images and the language employed.
Some writers are sensitive chiefly to the intellectual consistency
of the thoughts ; and others, having little feeling for either
effect, display at best the genius of mere profusion.
Numerous examples of Harmony have already occurred.
(See Figures of Similarity, Strength, &c.) The following is
a short example from the opening of the " Seasons " : —
"Come, gentle Spring, ethereal Mildness, come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veiled in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend."
(2.) Scenery is harmonized with incident. In real life,
events have rarely any suitable scenic accompaniments. The
battle of Waterloo was fought on the fiats of Belgium ; and the
future of a nation may be settled in the monotony of a Govern-
ment office. But the artist provides a background adapted to
the action of the piece. See the example from Milton quoted
under Personification, p. 35.
Scott's Pirate is a well-known instance of harmony of
scenery and characters. Senior remarks : —
12
266 POETEY.
" "What could be done for Zetland, he has done : he has painted
with his usual vivid accuracy the few natural objects which it af-
forded, — the rocky promontory, the inland sea, the fierceness of a
northern ocean, and the caprice of a northern climate, with its misty
calm and irresistible tempest ; and he has suited to it, with admi-
rable consistency, the habits and character of its inhabitants. The
promise of his motto is fully performed —
nothing of them
But doth suffer a sea-change. '
Their furniture and their food are, almost wholly, the produce
or the gifts of the sea; — all their language and conversation is in-
sular, and almost fishy ; limited by the narrow experience, and full
of the maritime superstitions and associations, of their situation.
In his usual pursuit of national, as well as individual, contrast, he
has described his Zetlanders before they became assimilated in feel-
ing to their Scottish proprietors and neighbors, and has attributed to
them, in a mitigated degree, the hostility towards the new comers,
which gives spirit to his Saxons in ' Ivanhoe '."
(3.) The development of Character is rendered harmonious.
The actions and sayings of each person have all a uniform bear-
ing. The poet rejects not only the discordant, but also the ir-
relevant or indifferent.
The Canterbury Pilgrims can hardly be too much extolled
for the harmonious in character.
The invention of unobvious doings and sayings in keeping
with each character is required in an epic, a romance, or a
drama.
(4.) Harmony is observed in the incidents and plot of the
Story. There is here, as elsewhere, an absence of both the dis-
cordant and the unmeaning. Hints, prognostications, omens,
dark intimations, are never in vain. The characters are suited
to the work assigned to them in forwarding the catastrophe of
the piece. The names of fictitious persons echo their char-
acters : Faithful, Hopeful, Despair, Bombastes Furioso, Over-
reach, Surface, Broadacres, Windbag, Dryasdust.
(5.) The outbursts of Emotion require harmonious expres-
sion and accompaniments. All lyric poetry comes under this
demand. Milton has expressly designed two contrasting illus-
trations in the odes called L' Allegro and II Penseroso. Tenny-
son's Mariana and Lady Godiva are strikingly harmonious
throughout.
THE IDEAL. 267
Contrast is not a violation of Harmony; it is another
poetical effect, following its own laws. (See Figures of Con-
trast.) The incongruity of the Ludicrous is likewise a differ-
ent, and not incompatible, form of composition. In Carlyle's
splendid description of the Battle of Dunbar, this passage oc-
curs : — " "Whoever has a heart for prayer let him pray now, for
the wrestle of death is at hand. But icithal let him keep his
powder dry.'''' This is a painful discord, unless the author in-
tends it for a stroke of ludicrous degradation.
The most frequent failure in Harmony arises from the intru-
sion of the cold operations of the intellect into the expression
of feeling. See Extract VI.
125. V. The Ideal is aimed at in Fine Art.
The adoption in Art of what is presented in Nature is con-
trolled, in the first place, by the requirements of harmony just
stated ; and to harmonize is to idealize.
But farther. It is an object with the poet or artist to rise
above the tameness of reality, to portray greater beauties and
higher loveliness than we can find on earth. A poem is a sus-
tained hyperbole.
In scenic delineation, besides completing the harmony, the
poet goes beyond nature in the richness of the accumulation,
and colors the language with glowing illustrations.
Such are the chosen scenes of romance and of fairy-land,
the happy valleys and islands of the blest, the gardens of the
Hesperides, the Elysian fields, and the pictures of Paradise.
The portraying of characters likewise undergoes the ideal-
izing process. Men and women are produced with larger intel-
lects, greater virtues, higher charms, than life can afford ; it
being agreeable to contemplate such elevated natures. The
bright points of real character are set forth, with omission of
the dark features ; strong qualities are given without the corre-
sponding weaknesses, and incompatible virtues united in the
same person. Lofty aspirations and practical sense, rigid jus-
tice and tender consideration, the fortiter and the suaviter, are
268 POETRY.
made to come together, notwithstanding the rarity of the com-
binations in the actual.
The grace of the feminine character united to the force of
the man— the manly, and not the masculine, woman— has been
a favorite ideal in all ages ; it was embodied in Pallas Athene
(Minerva) and in Artemis (Diana), and is reproduced abundantly
in our poetry and romance.
Seeing that human society labors under a chronic want of
disinterestedness and mutual consideration on the part of its
members, there is a demand for select or heightened pictures of
love, devotedness, and sympathy, as an ideal compensation.
The Ideal of story consists in assigning the fortunes and
destinies of individuals with greater liberality and stricter equity
than under the real or actual. The miseries as well as the flat-
ness of life are passed over, or redeemed ; the moments of
felicity are represented as if they were the rule ; Poetic Justice
is supreme, and measures out to each man his deserts ; mixed
and bad characters are admitted along with the good, but all
are dealt with as the poet's, which is also the reader's, sense of
justice demands.
The severe and difficult virtues of prudence, judgment, and
calculation, are slighted ; and success is made to follow the
generous and uncalculating impulses of the heart.
Love, beauty, and innocence, are made triumphant over
brute force and savage ferocity ; as in the " Una and the Lion "
of the Faerie Queen.
Poetic representations may be utterly and avowedly removed
from truth, as in the tales of fairy land, and the romances of
chivalry, in which case the pleasure is purely ideal ; or they
may color so lightly as to be taken for truth and reality, and
then they inspire belief and intoxicate with hope. Dreams of
future bliss, for the individual, or for the race, founded on san-
guine feeling and plausible anticipation, exhibit the Ideal at the
summit of its power. " The good time coming," poetically
illustrated and melodiously sung, will exhilarate the mind in the
depths of depression. See Tennyson's Loeksley Hall.
Putting together the three features, Concreteness and Com-
P0ETEY, AN nnTATIYE ART. 269
bination (III.), Harmony (IV.), and Ideality (V.), we can
understand what is signified by Imagination in the correct
meaning of the word. A poetically imagined scene, character,
or event, is concrete, as opposed to abstractions, harmonious in
its parts, and, if need be, idealized to satisfy the sentiments and
feelings touched by works of Fine Art.
126. YI. Poetry lias certain limitations, as being an
imitative art, that is, as deriving its subjects from exter-
nal nature and from human life.
Music, dancing, architecture, and fanciful decoration, can
hardly be said to imitate anything, or to refer the mind to any
natural object. But in painting, in sculpture, and, most of all,
in Poetry, the subjects are derived from realities, and we cannot
avoid considering, among other merits, the agreement or dis-
agreement with the originals. If artistic effects are purchased
at the expense of a great deviation from natural possibility or
probability, although these effects are not less genuine in them-
selves, yet the work as a whole is marred by the offence given
to our sense of truth. And, on the other hand, the skill shown
by an artist in imitating or representing objects of nature, on
canvas, in marble, or in language, is a new and distinct effect
that excites pleasure and admiration ; truth in Art is then a
name for minute observation, and the adapting of a foreign
material to reproduce some original. This makes the Realistic
school of Art ; Hogarth and Wilkie are examples in Painting ;
in Poetry, Crabbe is the most notable instance ; while in Ro-
mance, the modern tendency is all in this direction.
"When Shakespeare is called the poet of nature, the meaning
is that he abides more than some other poets (Spenser, for ex-
ample) by the limits of actual human life ; although his repre-
sentations are, in many ways, far from being close to the origi-
nals. It is essential to the interest that he gives, and a part of
his greatness, to idealize beyond nature, in the intensity of the
passions portrayed, in the one-sidedness of the characters, and
in the intellectual power of the dialogue.
It is a rule of criticism, on this subject, that the departure
270 POETRY.
from nature should not extend to incompatibility, or contradic-
tion of the laws of things. It would be censurable to describe
a moonlight night as following a solar eclipse, to introduce a
man 150 years old, or to assign to the same person the highest
rank as a poet and as a man of science. But rare and fortu-
nate conjunctions may be made use of, and even such conjunc-
tions as have never been actually known to occur, provided
they are such as might occur. Poetical justice is sometimes
realized in fact, and the only thing against nature would be to
set it up as the rule. It was remarked by Hobbes : — " For as
truth is the bound of the historian, so the resemblance of truth
is the utmost limit of poetical liberty." " Beyond the actual
works of nature a poet may go ; beyond the possibilities of
nature, never."
Scott has been blamed by Senior for introducing lucky
" coincidences " beyond all the bounds of probability and of
admissible exaggeration.
The dangerous tendencies of Poetry being to over-stimulate
the passionate impulses, such as love and ambition, to make us
dissatisfied with reality, to discourage the calculations of pru-
dence, and to give a distaste for the severity of scientific meth-
od, — its character is improved as these tendencies are kept
within control.
127. YII. Interest of Plot enters largely into Poetry.
The peculiar suspense induced by uncertainty as to some
approaching end has a powerful fascination, much sought after
as a means of amusement. It is the interest of story, and is
obtainable through the narrative kinds of Poetry — the Epic
and the Drama. The poet, in constructing his ideal narratives,
considers best how to bring out and sustain this kind of inter-
est. His means are the studious concealment of the end, the
introduction of circumstances to foster uncertainty, and the
delay of the final issue by alternating the excitement of the
way.
It is in the Romance, or Novel, that the management of
plot, or story, has been carried to the highest pitch.
PAINFUL EFFECTS. 271
The Drama contains a story, like the Epic ; and, in its dis-
tinguishing peculiarity of the dialogue, gives additional scope
for animation of plot. The spectator of a play is intent on
watching the action and re-action of the personages.
The story is an important means of rousing the feelings :
we are familiar with tales of distress, of wonder, of devotedness,
of perseverance, of heroism. It being the nature of all such
qualities to involve action, a narrative is the means of making
them apparent.
128. YIII. "Whatever painful effects are admitted
into Poetry should be fully redeemed.
A work of Art is meant to give us pleasure, and the occur-
rence of anything to cause pain must be justified or atoned for.
The chief example of the use of pain is seen in Tragedy, which
is a representation of dire calamity and ruin overtaking men
without corresponding ill desert on their part. Such events,
of themselves, would necessarily shock our sympathies and
offend our sense of justice. They are justified or redeemed in
various ways : —
(1.) They occur in actual life ; and, although we expect
that Art should, as a rule, hold up the pleasing side of things,
yet we do not wish it altogether to shut out painful realities from
the view.
(2.) The exercise of compassion is agreeable within limits.
"We are not indisposed to have our sympathies engaged with
suffering and sorrow. We do not shrink from encountering our
fellow-beings, even in their miseries. The combined force of
sympathy and tender feeling is able to swallow up the pain that
the sight of calamity would cause us.
But there is a line that divides pity from horror. That
line has been passed by some of the greatest poets; as by
Shakespeare in Lear, if not also in Macbeth, Othello, and Ham-
let ; by Campbell in Lord Ullin's daughter ; in Byron's Ship-
wreck. Senior's remarks on Scott's Kenilworth are in point :—
" It is a fault perhaps of the conclusion, that it is too uniformly
tragical. In 'Waverley,' and the 'Abbot,' the happiness of Eose
272 POETEY.
and Waverley, and of Catherine and Roland, is entwined, like the
ivy of a ruined window, with the calamities of their unfortunate
associates, and relieves us from one unvaried spectacle of misery.
And even in the ' Bride of Lammermoor,' our author relents from
what appears to have been his earlier intention, restores Bucklaw
to health, and pensions Craigengelt, and suffers the whole weight
of the catastrophe to fall only on his hero and heroine. But in
'Kenil worth,' the marriage of Wayland Smith and Janet (an event
which scarcely excites any interest) is the only instance of mercy.
The immediate circumstances of Amy's death, as she rushes to
meet, what she supposes to be, her husband's signal, almost pass
the limit that divides pity from horror. It is what Foster calls it,
1 a seething of the kid in the mother's milk.' All our author's
reiterations of Varney's devilishness, do not render it credible.
TressiJian, Sir Hugh Robsart, Varney, Foster, Demetrius, Lam-
bourne, almost every agent in the story, perishes prematurely or
violently. Elizabeth is reserved for the sorrows of disappointed
love and betrayed confidence, and Leicester for misery, such as
even our author has not ventured to describe." (Essays on Fic-
tion, p. 73.)
(3.) Calamity brings out the force and grandeur of the
human spirit, and is thus an occasion of the sublime. The
great tragedies of the Greek and of the modern drama, are ex-
hibitions of lofty and heroic qualities of mind, endurance, dar-
ing, superiority to misfortune. Prometheus could defy, though
he must succumb to, the might of Zeus.
(4.) The representation of painful scenes is an opportunity
of showing the power of poetry. The influence of pleasure is
manifested in subduing pain. The charm of imagery, the flow
of numbers, and all the resources of poetic genius, are em-
ployed upon fictitious misery, that they may be at hand in real
distress. Tragic situations call forth the energies of the poet
himself, as well as of his heroes. It says much for the horrors of
Lear, that the genius of the poet has not sufficed to redeem them.
Poetry has especially endeavored to soften the terrors of
death. " After life's fitful fever he sleeps well? The Stoical
mode of regarding death took a slightly different, but equally
poetical turn ; it was a great, a sacred, an inviolable asylum,
beyond the reach of human passion and injustice.
129. The form of Metre has been always considered
suitable to Poetry.
METRE. 273
Metre is an effect added to Melody ; being, in our language,
the arranging of emphatic and unemphatic syllables on a meas-
ured plan.
Metre operates in several ways : —
(1.) In strong excitement, we are unable to adapt ourselves
to the varying exigencies of a prose rhythm, and accordingly
feel the simplicity of a poetic measure to be a great relief. The
greater the excitement, the more simple usually is the metrical
scheme.
(2.) In the effusion of intense feeling, the regularity of
metre may act as a controlling or moderating power. The
ebullition of excitement is made calmer and more continuous
by the adoption of a measured step ; so that, when the subject
is of an impassioned nature, the proper accompaniment is verse.
On an occasion of joy, the regularity of the dance protracts and
husbands the pleasurable emotion, which might otherwise be
soon exhausted by spasmodic violence.
(3.) In the recurrence of beats at measured intervals, there
is a positive pleasure. It is the pleasure of time in music, and
of equal intervals in the array of objects to the eye, as when
we place trees or pilasters in a row. We may consider it as
-an example of the principle of harmony, so widely diffused in
Fine Art.
Yerse, although a frequent adjunct, is not the essential dis-
tinction of Poetry. Many compositions in prose are of the
poetical type ; their design is to charm or please, and not to
instruct or to persuade. Such is the Novel, or Prose Epic.
Such also are many compositions having the form of instruc-
tion or of persuasion, but using that form as a mere framework
for ornament and elegance. History, criticism, the moral
essay, the delineation of life and manners, in the hands of a
man of poetic genius, may be written in prose, but they have
the effects of Poetry, and rank with it in the department of
Polite Literature, or the Belles-Lettres.
12*
274 SPECIES OF POETRY.
SPECIES OF POETEY.
130. Poetry is divided into three principal species,
the Lyric, Epic, and Dramatic. These are marked by
certain leading peculiarities, although few poems adhere
purely to any one type. In modern compositions more
especially, under whatever form, there is apt to be a
mixture of all the modes of poetic effect.
LYEIC POETEY.
131. This species is represented by Songs, Hymns,
and Odes. They are usually short, for which reason
alone they are commonly more concentrated and intense.
The Lyric poem is an expression or effusion of some intense
feeling, passion, emotion, or sentiment ; as, devotion, love, mili-
tary ardor, &c. The metrical form deviates farthest from prose.
The word " Lyric " shows that these poems were originally sung
or pronounced with an instrumental accompaniment. Music,
however, is an auxiliary only, and is commonly dispensed with.
Even the versification can be dropped, and the composition
still retain a lyrical character. This is seen in the highly-
wrought, impassioned prose of De Quincey (Confessions of an
Opium-Eater, and Suspiria de Profundis) ; of Carlyle (Death
of Marie Antoinette in The Diamond Necklace) ; of Richter ;
of Lamennais [Paroles dlun Croyant — an instance of a lyrical
book); of Victor Hugo, Michelet, and others. The passage
from Milton's Areopagitica, — " Methinks I see in my mind a
noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man
after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks ; methinks I see
her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her un-
dazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam ; purging and unsealing
her long-abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly ra-
diance," &c. — is Lyrical, being the effusion of intense feeling in
strong, although unmetrical, language.
132. Lyrical poems may be classified as follows : —
LYEIC POETEY. 275
(1.) The Song. A song is usually short ; simple in meas-
ure ; broken up into stanzas, each complete in meaning, yet
falling into a place in the arrangement of the piece ; modified,
according as it is to be sung or merely pronounced, — in the
first case being more abrupt and more metrical.
The varieties of the Song may be enumerated thus : —
I. The Sacred Song, or Hymn, expressing (a) awe, rever-
ence, fear ; (b) love, thankfulness, confidence ; (c) supplication
and intercession ; (d) self-abasement and contrition ; or (e) being-
hortatory (a departure from the strict poetical vein, almost pe-
culiar to the Christian hymns).
The Psalms include all the varieties. The old Latin hymns
(Dies Irce, &c.) may also be referred to. Luther's hymns are
remarkable outbursts of his own personality ; as in the tone of
confidence displayed in — " A great stronghold our God is still."
The modern missionary hymn, " From Greenland's icy moun-
tains," is an example of the hortatory kind. The old Greek
hymns to the deities, generally sung by the choruses, are pure
instances under a, b, and c.
II. The Secular Song, corresponding to the more exciting
occasions of common life.
(a) The Y> r ar Song partakes of the nature of eloquence ; the
means of persuasion being the impassioned excitement and
burning words of the author. It may be composed for a special
emergency, or for nourishing patriotic sentiment at all times.
One need refer only to Tyrtseus, Burns (" Scots wha hae — "),
the Marseillaise, Arndt's and Korner's German War Lyrics
(War of Freedom, 1813). The sentiments bodied forth are de-
fiance of the foe, disregard of death, the dishonor of cowardice,
the miseries of defeat.
It is important to remark, however, that narrative or Epic
compositions, such as the ballads reciting heroic deeds of the
past, have probably a still greater influence in rousing military
sentiment. Dibdm's songs have the narrative, and not the
Lyric, form. It was to the Ballad of Chevy Chase that Sid-
ney's famous saying was applied, " It stirs the heart like the
sound of a trumpet." The explanation has already been alluded
276 LYRIC POETRY.
to. It is in the unfolding of action and incident, that the feel-
ings can be most surely stimulated. The Lyric is adapted to
a special want of the mind ; namely, to give vent to, and to
moderate, feelings once aroused. Incidentally it cultivates the
feelings, but principally it gives them utterance.
(&) The Love Song. Used in the various forms of tender
feeling. First is the love of the sexes. To this, in all its sit
uations, the song adapts itself. In ancient times, Sappho,
Horace, Catullus, gave choice examples. Ben Jonson's " Drink
to me only with thine eyes " is probably unsurpassed. Shake-
speare has numerous snatches. Suckling's songs are exquisite.
Burns, Moore, Campbell, Beranger, are a few of the host of
composers of love songs.
The other affections of kindred have had their share of cele-
bration. Burns has sung of friendship. Expression has been
given to home, country, and patriotic sentiment (Hail Columbia.
Rule Britannia, &c).
(c) The Drinking Song. Sociality, genial feeling, and the
praises of wine, have been the subject of Lyrics in both ancient
and modem times. Burns and Moore have contributed a num-
ber of these. The German Burschen Songs may also be quoted.
(d) The Political Song ; as the Jacobite songs, and all out-
bursts of party feeling.
(e) The purely Sentimental Song : for example, Tennyson's
" Break, break, break — ."
The Comic Song is generally a ludicrous narrative. Many
so-called songs are in fact Ballads.
(2.) The Ode. This is the loftiest effusion of intense feeling.
It is not intended to be sung. The elaborate versification that
constitutes its peculiarity, is intended partly to make up for this
disadvantage, partly to accommodate the transitions natural to
intense feeling. We may give as examples, Milton's Hymn on
the Nativity; Collins' Ode to Liberty; Gray's Bard; Keats'
Ode to a Nightingale, and Ode to Liberty ; Wordsworth's Inti-
mations of Immortality; Coleridge's Ode to the Departing
Year. The " Ode to the PassionsJ' is an Ode only in form ; it
is not so much the display, as the description, of feeling.
THE ELEGY. THE SONNET. 277
(3.) The Elegy, with which we may connect, in sentiment
at least, the Dirge. In the original form, in Greece, this was
the expression of plaintive, melancholy sentiment, for which
was devised that modification of the heroic metre known as the
Elegiac. It is now connected chiefly with the expression of re-
gret for the departed, removal by death being the pre-eminently
mournful incident of humanity. Milton's Lycidas is a typical
instance. Gray's Elegy is a diffused expression of feeling on
mortality in general, and also a sustained poetical exercise. The
Adonais and In Memoriam interweave ethical and theoretical
views with the images of the main sentiment.
(4.) The Sonnet. This is sometimes descriptive, but most
commonly a concentrated expression of a single phase of feel-
ing ; the reference may, or may not, be to something external.
Shakespeare's Sonnets are in a connected thread, being, as is
supposed, the successive effusions of his own feelings growing
out of a sentimental relationship. Wordsworth's Sonnets are
perhaps his most peculiarly Lyrical compositions.
(5.) The simple or nondescript Lyric comprehends a variety
of effusions, wanting in any of the specific aims above men-
tioned. Many of them are mere utterances, designed to support
poetic ornament. Reference may be made to Burns (The Moun-
tain Daisy), Tennyson (St. Agnes' Eve), Wordsworth (To the
Cuckoo ; " O blithe new comer "). Some have an ethical pur-
pose, as Goethe's ode (translated by Carlyle) : —
" The mason's ways are
A type of existence,
And his persistence
Is as the days are
Of men in this world," &c.
EPIC POETRY.
133. The Epic, in contrast to the Lyric, is a narrative
of outward events contrived for poetic interest, by plot
or story, scenery, characters, language, &c. The author
appears in his owai person ; lays the scenes, introduces
the actors, and narrates the events.
278 EPIC POETRY.
Of all the forms of Poetry, the Epic has the widest com-
pass ; not only is verse unessential, but there are varieties of
story, genuinely poetical in their interest, and yet expressly
suited for prose. Such is the Novel.
The Epic is also the longest of all poetical compositions.
Its many alternations and windings allow it to be protracted
without exhausting the interest.
134. The leading forms of Epic Poetry are these : —
(1.) The Great Epic.
This is the Epic, in which supernatural agency is permitted,
with a view of controlling the events according to the highest
moral government of the world. It is mixed up therefore with
Religion, or else with the great personified abstractions called
Destiny, Fate, Justice, Right, the Evil Principle, which are sup-
posed to take events out of mere human hands.
The division into Sacred and Heroic is scarcely tenable ; the
Greek Heroic Epic was thoroughly religious. The only im-
portant difference in this respect is between the Pagan and the
Christian, and between these and the kinds that eliminate more
and more the supernatural control.
The conditions imposed upon the Epic in respect of subject,
place, and time, are resolvable into the necessities of the story
or plot, which must be intelligibly started, and conducted to a
definite termination. The plot being for the most part, al-
though not necessarily or universally, the element of highest
interest, it must govern everything else ; or, at all events, be in
harmony with the scenes, the characters, the sentiments, and
the diction. Thus, the Trojan War was a subject for History ;
the wrath of Achilles was selected and treated as an Epic.
The high Epic demands a metre, of a less marked kind than
the Lyric, although more marked than the Drama. Such was
the Greek hexameter, and such are our English Epic metres, as,
for example, the blank verse of Milton.
The usual examples of the Great Epic are : —
The Iliad and Odyssey.
The ^Eneid.
THE ROMANCE. THE TALE. 279
The Mebelungen Lied.
The Divina Comedia,
The Lusiad.
Jerusalem Delivered.
Paradise Lost.
The Pharsalia of Lucan is held up by critics as a warning
beacon against the tendency of the Great Epic to degenerate
into bombast, mere oratorical display, and prosaic feebleness.
Pollok's Course of Time is an Epic of the high class.
The real or serious Epic has a counterpart or parody in the
Mock Epic, as " The battle of the Frogs and Mice," " The Rape
of the Lock," &c.
(2.) The Romance, or Narrative of Adventure, under a more
purely human control. Supernatural personages are still oc-
casionally admitted, but with a lower function. The element
of love, repressed in the Great Epic, is now allowed greater
scope. The metre is of a lighter cast.
As examples, we have the poetry of the Troubadours ; with
which we may compare, as modern instances, Scott's Marmion
and Lady of the Lake. The Faerie Queen, in its narrative
handling, abstracted from the didactic purpose, is a Romance,
retaining the modified supernatural machinery of the Middle
Ages. To the same class belong Hudibras and Don Juan ;
their peculiarity consisting in the addition of satire.
(3.) The Tale, with complete story and denouement, love
being predominant. Many of Chaucer's Tales (the Knight's,
&c.) might be cited. Also the Rape of Lucrece ; Byron's Cor-
sair, Giaour, &c; Wordsworth's White Doe of Rylstone ;
Keats' Lamia and Eve of St, Agnes ; the Tales of Crabbe, dis-
tinguished by his realistic manner ; Enoch Arden ; Longfellow's
Wayside Inn. In the light and humorous vein, we have exam-
ples likewise in Chaucer. The presence of intense humor dis-
penses with the love-interest, as in Tarn o' Shanter ; a remark
of still wider application.
(4.) The Ballad, generally made short and simple, by rapid-
ity in the succession of incidents, and by leaving many things
merely suggested ; hence less discursive than the Tale. The
280 EPIC POETEY.
examples are Chevy Chase ; the Heir of Linne ; Wordsworth's
Ruth ; Hood's Eugene Aram ; Lord Ullin's Daughter ; Macau-
lay's Lay of Horatius ; Burial of Sir John Moore ; Loss of the
Royal George; Bayard Taylor's Paso del Mar; Schiller's
Diver; Goethe's Bride of Corinth. In a lighter vein, we have
the otherwise-designated Comic Song; Thackeray's Ballads;
Hood's comic pieces ; Horace and James Smith's parodies ; the
Mock Heroic — Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogen. In
American literature, the comic poems of Saxe and Oliver Wen-
dell Holmes are worthy of mention in this department.
(5.) The Historical Poem, or Metrical History, might be
called a Narrative Poem, with a didactic purpose : Barbour's
Bruce ; Blind Harry's Wallace. The Annus Mirabilis of Dry-
den contains much that is properly Lyrical.
(6.) The Mixed Epic : having a slight epic character, with
a mixture of sentiment, satire, moralizing, and other reflections.
Childe Harold is destitute of plot, and consists of a string of
descriptions, reflections, and lyrical outbursts of the author's
personality. Shelley's Revolt of Islam contains an unbroken
narrative, of the nature of the Romance, but with a superabun-
dance of Lyrical effusion.
(7.) The Pastoral, Idyll, &c. These have just sufficient
traces of narrative to bring them under the Epic division ; but
they are distinguished by the prominence of poetic description,
and this, either of external nature or of manners. In some,
the narrative is still supreme. In the Endymion of Keats, a
mythical story connects a series of descriptions of nature. We
may add Beattie's Minstrel, the Cotter's Saturday Night, the
Gardener's Daughter, the Idylls of the King. In others, there
is still continuous narrative, but only to furnish subjects for the
description ; as, the Excursion and the Princess. We might
perhaps place the Minstrel here. A third class contain nar-
rative only by way of episode to the description, and that often
in a small and vanishing quantity. Such are L' Allegro and II
Penseroso. In Thomson's Seasons, the course of the year is
the only succession of events. Cowper's Task is composite in its
nature ; description alternates with didactic and satirical strokes.
THE PEOSE FICTION. 281
It might seem requisite to devote a distinct head to De-
scriptive Poetry ; in which case, we should have to trace its
subdivisions according to the varying connection with Narra-
tive. But this would only give the previous classification in an
inverted order; and, moreover, for reasons more than once
given, there can be no poetry of continued Description in the
strict sense of the word. Action and succession must predom-
inate ; and it is, therefore, the only proper course to make
Narrative the genus, and Description the specific difference.
The Task and the Night Thoughts contain much description,
and little narrative, but it would not bring out their distinctive
character to term them Descriptive poems.
(8.) The Prose Fiction. This is a prose version of all the
previous kinds, except the Great Epic, which, from its nature,
is rarely attempted, and demands the metrical adjunct.
From the exceeding variety of the Prose Fiction, it is diffi-
cult to assign well-marked types. The Religious Allegory of
Bunyan is a distinct kind. Other species are the Pastoral
Novel (Sidney's Arcadia), the Sentimental Novel (Richardson,
&c), the Satirical Novel (Swift), the Comic and also Satirical
(Fielding, Smollet, Thackeray), the Historical Novel (Scott,
Bulwer). But each writer of Fiction usually embodies all the
kinds of interest suited to his genius, with slight reference to a
type. There is a real difference made in choosing the subject
from the present or from the past ; the one tends to imitation
and reality, the other to ideality. A didactic purpose, also,
gives a character to the novel. The Supernatural is rare in
prose fiction, and, when attempted, is considered a doubtful
experiment.
DRAMATIC POETET.
135. The Drama is so constructed as to admit of its
being acted on the Stage. There is a story as in the
Epic, but the author does not narrate, nor appear in his
own person. He appoints and groups the characters,
lays the scenes, and provides the dialogue ; and, in the
282 DRAMATIC POETEY.
dialogue, aided only by stage directions, the whole ac-
tion of the piece is contained.
An epic poet like Homer, who reduces his narrative to the
smallest dimensions, and gives a large space to the dialogue,
brings the epic close upon the drama ; while the placing of an
explanatory prologue, at the beginning of each act (as in Henry
V.), makes the drama approach to the epic.
The peculiarly dramatic interest consists in watching the
turns of the dialogue, the action and reaction of the speakers.
The merits of the composition lie in the vividness of the impres-
sion that one personage appears to make upon another. Solil-
oquy is irrelevant, unless it grows out of the action or prepares
for it.
There is no kind of poetic ornament or effect that the Drama
does not admit of, in proportions suited to its nature.
136. The division of the Drama into Tragedy and
Comedy, is much more marked than the subdivisions of
the Lyric or the Epic.
(1.) Tragedy. This, according to Aristotle's definition, was
the representation (as opposed to the narration) of a completed
action, commanding or illustrious in its character ; the language
being poetically pleasing ; and with the moral effect of puri-
fying the passions generally, by means of the two special pas-
sions — Pity and Fear.
The action in Tragedy was originally taken from those calam-
itous incidents of human life, which are attended with a degree
of suffering wholly or in part undeserved by the actors. The
painful effect of this spectacle was redeemed, in Tragedy, by
poetic arts; by theological explanations; by the displays of
human nobleness in enduring calamity ; by inspiring pity ; by
the moral lesson of fear, circumspection, and submission ; and
by selecting incidents not too horrible to be so redeemed. In
commenting on the definition of Aristotle, Karnes remarks, that
the happiest subject of a tragedy would be a man of integrity
falling into a great misfortune by the committal of some inno-
TEAGEDY. 283
cent action, which he is led in some way to suppose criminal.
The hero would inspire pity to the full, while his misfortune
would stimulate a salutary dread of evil possibilities.
Aristotle's definition applies best to what is called the High
Tragedy — ancient and modern ; as, (Edipus and Lear. The
ancient Tragedy had a Lyrical mixture, — the choric portions —
but distinct throughout, and not interwoven with the action ;
being uttered by the chorus in the capacity of spectator, and
giving vent to the feelings inspired by the action in its progress.
This disappears in the modern drama ; the lyrical portions in
Shakespeare are incorporated with the piece. Alfieri, who, of
all tragedians, kept most within a rigid type prescribed by him-
self, wholly rejected the lyrical ingredient. Goethe makes
great use of it in Faust ; and Byron, as we might expect,
brings it into especial prominence. The best modern reproduc-
tion of the classical type is Samson Agonistes. In the High
Tragedy, the purpose is to show how men must bend to the
stringent conditions of humanity, and to the dispensation of
the higher powers ; consequently, there is no care for a happy
termination.
The more moderate Tragedy, while retaining tragic ele-
ments and situations, allows happy conclusions, when the actors
have been sufficiently immersed, and all but overwhelmed, in
trials and dangers ; thus permitting scope for poetical justice ;
as in the 'Winter's Tale, Measure for Measure, the Xew Way to
pay old Debts, &c
The subjects of Tragedy are as wide as the Epic subjects :
— the high ideal, the romantic, the historic, the common-life
tragedy.
(2.) Comedy. Comedy is admitted on all hands to be the
adaptation of the Dramatic form to yield the pleasures of the
Ludicrous, in company with as many other pleasing effects as
are compatible with it. This was substantially the view of
Aristotle, as it is the practice of all comic poets.
The Old Comedy among the Greeks, the earliest form of it,
was coarse invective, broad farce and caricature, highly person-
al, and turned to political purposes. The Middle and New
284 DRAMATIC POETEY.
Comedy dealt with characters and manners by types, classes,
or ranks ; a form repeated in modern times, being well exem-
plified in Moliere and in Ben Jonson.
The ct»mic personages of Shakespeare are men rather than
class-representations. Among the recognized varieties of Com-
edy, are the Genteel Comedy, the Low Comedy, the Farce, the
Travesty or Mock Heroic.
The English Drama has allowed the mixture of Tragedy and
Comedy in the same piece.
Another variety of the Drama is the Mask ; or Romantic
Adventure, with supernatural personages — fairies, giants, mon-
sters, &c.
The Opera constitutes a distinct species modified by its
being sung.
The Dramatic element appears wherever the personages of
a piece are in earnest, energetic, and responsive communica-
tion ; and when the poet is able to make this apparent in a very
marked way. An animated debate in a public assembly, a po-
lemic through the press, wherein the contending parties deci-
dedly act and re-act upon one another, to persuade, to concili-
ate, to terrify, to enrage, — contain the essence of the drama.
Allusion has been made to Didactic Poetry, or poems de-
signed to convey instruction or inculcate moral duty. Satire,
or Satiric Poetry, is allied with Eloquence, the intention being
to vituperate, to vilify, to lash, or it may be also to reform, the
victims. The Satirist of antiquity conceived himself to be a
moral preacher or reformer, lifting his voice against the vices
of his age. Such were Horace and Juvenal. Erasmus and
Buchanan had large scope for satire in the age of the Reforma-
tion. Many of our recent poets have plied the weapon. "We
need but name Butler, Dryden, Swift, Pope, Arbuthnot,
Churchill, Burns, Byron. The subjects are various ; religious
hypocrisy, political dereliction, literary pretensions, and the
failings of mankind generally.
METEE. 285
VERSIFICATION.
137. The time metrical character of English poetry
depends upon the regular recurrence of similarly accent-
ed syllables at short intervals.
It is not improper to describe as metrical the much used
arts of Rhyme, Alliteration, <fec. ; hut, not being to the same ex-
tent indispensable to the poetic form, these are better treated
apart and in subordination.
METEE.
138. In Greek and Latin, the general rhythm of the
language, and the recurrence of emphasis at definite in-
tervals constituting metre, were to a great extent deter-
mined according to the length of the syllables. In
English, the classical rules for fixing the length of sylla-
bles do not hold, or in any way affect the place of the
accent in pronunciation. When the accent is found to
occur at regular intervals within a number of words or
syllables, as in these examples —
He plants' | his foot'jsteps in' | the sea' —
What' though you | tell' me each | gay' little | rover —
each of the groups receives the name of a Measure. "We
have different measures, according to the extent of the
groups and the place of the accent within them.
Between two accented syllables in English words, there can
lie one or two, but not more than two, unaccented syllables.
This applies either to single words or to successions of words.
Consequently, under any arrangement, the first accent must
occur not beyond the third syllable ; and, if only one unac-
cented syllable intervenes, not beyond the second. Within
these limits, five distinct positions, giving rise to five measures,
are possible ; two, where the accent recurs on alternate sylla-
bles — three, where the accent recurs on every third syllable.
286 VERSIFICATION.
These positions and measures get the names Dissyllabic and
Trisyllabic, and are typified by single words like these — (1)
a'ble ; (2) ago' ; (3) pret'tily ; (4) discerning ; (5) reprimand'.
The various regularly accented groups, or measures, which
involve these different recurrences, are repeated to form verses.
A verse (which commOnly assumes the form of a single line,
though not always) is determined in length according to the
number of the repetitions. These, for practical purposes, are
seldom less than two (the dimeter), or more than eight. Of-
ten, in the case of the 1st and 3d measures, in which the accent
falls on the first syllable, the last measure of the verse is short-
ened by the omission of the unaccented part ; in like manner,
the closing unaccented syllable of the 4th measure may be
dropped. On the other hand, the 2d and 5th, accented on
the last, may be supplemented at the end by an additional un-
accented syllable forming no part of any new measure. Li-
censes are admissible in all. Occasionally it happens that one
measure is introduced into a verse made up of another, variety
and greater emphasis being thereby obtained ; for example, the
1st and 2d may be thus interchanged. This liberty is taken
still more frequently in the trisyllabic measures, where, too, the
dropping out of unaccented syllables and the insertion of super-
numeraries in any part of the verse, are far from uncommon.
The interchange of dactyls, anapaests, and spondees in certain
of the classical metres, is a parallel case.
139. Here follow some Examples of the most com-
mon verses in the different measures. The use of the
ancient descriptive epithets is abandoned, because of
their evident incongruity, except to designate in a gen-
eral way the measures themselves.
I. Dissyllabic Measures.
1. The First, or Trochaic, Measure.
Pope' is | ban'ish'd,
Joys' are | van'ish'd —
Gen'tle | riv'er, | gen'tle | riv'er
Lo' thy | streams' are | stain'd' with | gore' —
DISSYLLABIC MEASURES. 28 7
And' the | ra'ven, | nev'er | flit'ting, — still' is | sit'ting, | still' is | sifting
On' the | pallid | bust' of | Pallas, | just' a|bove'my | chamber | door' —
The trochaic measure has a light tripping movement, and is
peculiarly fitted for lively subjects^ although the examples now
quoted are of a different kind. It is employed largely in sim-
ple nursery rhymes.
2. The Second, or Iambic, Measure.
The strains' | decay'
And melt' | away' —
For in' | my mind', | of all' | mankind'
' I love' | but you' | alone' —
Cal'|edon'iia, stern' | and wild' —
And found' | no end', | in wan'|d'ring rna'|zes lost' —
Such' as | crea'ition's dawn' | beheld' | thou roll "est now' —
The spa' cious fir'|mament' | on high', | with all' | the blue' | ethe'Jreal
sky' —
The Iambic measure, being the least elevated, is most easily
kept up. It is therefore in very common use, and is peculiarly
adapted for long poems.
IL Trisyllabic Measures.
1. The Third, or Dactylic, Measure.
Take' her up | ten'derly
Lift' her with | care' —
Thou' who art | bearing my | buckler and | bow' —
Strongly it | bears' us a; long' in | swelling and | limitless ] billows.
2. The Fourth, or Amphibrachic, Measure.
The black' bands | came o'ver
The Alps' and | the snow' —
My cour'sers | are fed' with | the light'nmg,
They drink' with | the whirl' wind's | stream' —
There came' to | the shore' a | poor exile | of Erin,
The dew' on | his thin' robe | was heavy | and chill'—
3. The Fifth, or Anapaestic, Measure.
To the fame' | of your name' —
See the snakes' | that they, rear',
How they hiss' | in the air' —
Shall vic'J tor exult,' | or in death' | be laid low',
With his back' | to the field', | and his feet' | to the foe'—
288 VERSIFICATION.
All the Trisyllabic measures have a quicker movement than
the Dissyllabic, owing to the greater number of unaccented
syllables ; they are characterized in the main by rushing impet-
uosity. Mention has been already made of their readiness to
admit irregularities, and to change places. Indeed, they can
scarcely be called distinct measures ; thus the fourth, for exam-
ple, shows clear traces of dactylic rhythm. We might scan the
last-quoted specimen thus : —
There | came' to the | shore' a poor | ex'ile of | Erin,
The | dew' on his | thin' robe was | heavy and | chill' —
making the first syllable of the lines unemphatic, on the prin-
ciple of the anacrusis, or back-stroke, of the classical metres.
We have then verses of properly dactylic measure, the one line
leading continuously on to the next. The rarity of the pure
dactylic measure in English is no longer a matter of wonder,
seeing it is thus found so often disguised.
Coleridge's Christabel, and some of Byron's poems, are
written in a metre disposed in lines varying in length from
seven to twelve syllables, but always containing four accented
positions ; thus,
I won'|der'd what' | might ail' | the bird' ;
For no'|thing near' | it could' | I see',
Save the grass^| and green herbs' | underneath' | the old tree'.
Though Coleridge called this a new principle, the only thing
new was the systematic execution.
Alliteration.
140. When Metre is understood in its most compre-
hensive sense as " the recurrence within certain inter-
vals of syllables similarly affected," Alliteration, which
means the recurrence at short intervals of the same
initial letter, may be described as a metrical ornament.
Attempted, more or less, in the poetry of almost all languages,
alliteration was especially used, as the main feature of versifica-
tion, in the Old German, Anglo-Saxon, and Scandinavian poe-
try. According to strict usage, two or three words in one
ALLITEEATIOX. 2S9
line, and one word in the next, began with the same letter ; as
is seen in this extract from the well-known poem of the 14th
century, Piers Ploughman : —
" There preached a pardoner
As he a priest were ;
brought forth a bull
With many bishops' seals."
Although the effect of alliteration cannot well have been con-
sciously sought after in later English poetry, it is curious to
note how often it is found, even to perfection, in the verses of
Milton, Coleridge, Shelley, Tennyson, &c. A few examples
may be given : —
" Of man's /irst disobedience, and the /ruit
Of that /orbidden tree, whose mortal taste — "
" The /air freeze 61ew ; the white /oam/ lew
The /urrow/ollowed/ree."
" Like a glowworm golden
In a efell of c?ew — "
" And on a sudden, lo ! the level ?ake
And the fong glories of the winter moon."
That there is something naturally pleasing in such conjunc-
tions, is evident from their frequency in current sayings and
proverbs. For instance: "Life and limb," "Watch and
ward," " Man and mouse," " Far fowls have fair feathers." An
extreme case of alliteration is found in the line,
"Let lovely lilacs line Lee's lonely lane."
Rhyme.
141. Bhyine, also, can be called metrical in the wide
sense, as determining a recurrence of sonnd in the clos-
ing syllable or syllables of different verses. It is a poeti-
cal ornament peculiar to poetry subsequent to the clas-
sical period, and by no means universally employed.
Blank verse, in which so much of English poetry is written,
discards rhyme altogether. Possibly it was a sense of the com-
parative paucity of English rhymes, as well as veneration for
classical models, that caused Ben Jonson, Milton, and others,
13
290 VERSIFICATION.
.to rebel against its fetters. Rhyme, however, is so pleasing and
so easily understood, as to stand higher than any other poetical
artifice in popular estimation. The existence of so-called dog-
gerel verses is a rude testimony to its power.
Three conditions are required in a perfect rhyme of two
syllables.
1. The vowel-sound and whatever follows it, must be the
same in both : long, song; sea, free.
2. The articulation before the vowel-sound must be differ-
ent : green, spleen ; call, /all, all. The letter k is not considered
a distinct articulation ; Aeart, art, are improper rhymes.
3. Both must be accented : try', sigh' ; not try', bright??/.
As rhyme depends upon sound only, the spelling is of no con-
sequence : bear, hare, are rhymes ; not so, bear, fear.
Rhymes are Single ; as, plain, grain : — Double ; as, glo-ry,
sto-ry: — or Triple; as, read-i-ly, stead-i-ly. In double and
triple rhymes, the last syllables are unaccented, and are really
appendages to the true rhyming sound, which alone fulfils the
conditions laid down above: cul'minate, /ul'minate.
Rhymes are not confined to the close of separate verses, but
are sometimes found in the middle and at the end of the same
verse. Some lines from Shelley's Cloud will illustrate both
cases : —
" I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers
From the seas and the streams ;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noon-day dreams."
Repetitions of like vowel-sounds, where other conditions of
perfect rhyme are neglected, get the name of Assonances.
These have no regular place in English poetry, as they have in
some other languages, but they are occasionally found instead
of rhymes in old ballads. For example : —
" And Cloudesly lay ready there in a cart,
Fast bound, both foot and hand ;
And a strong rope about his neck,
All ready for to hang."
Two lines or verses rhyming together in succession form a
couplet ; three, a triplet or tercet. Groups of four lines, which
may rhyme in various combinations, are called quatrains. A
KINDS OF VEESE. 291
stanza is the least group of lines involving all the peculiarities
of metre and arrangement of rhymes characteristic of the piece
containing it.
KINDS OF VEESE.
142. The elements for constructing the various kinds
of verse common in English poetry, have now been men-
tioned. They are the five measures repeated in lines
of varying length; not seldom compounded with one
another ; occasionally made harmonious by alliteration ;
and in most kinds of poetry fitted with a rhyming close.
The Khyme, by its very nature, demanding at least
two lines or verses, practically determines what special
forms the versification shall assume ; in the absence of
rhyme, the versification is complete within the single
line.
This last case, of simple unrhymed metrical combination, is
best disposed of by itself, before the more intricate rhymed
forms are noticed. It is the Blank Verse, called also Heroic,
and belongs to English literature. The name Heroic arises
from its constant employment in the High Epic, where it takes
the place of the classical hexameter. It is composed of five
Iambic measures, as seen in the appended extract from
Milton : —
High' on | a throne' | of roy'Jal state', | which far'
Out shone' | the wealth' | of Or'jmuz and' | of Ind',
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold.
Young, Thomson, Wordsworth, and Tennyson, also make
use of Blank Verse, although the lines of each have a distinct
ring or rhythm, dependent for the most part upon their man-
agement of the natural pauses.
In the Drama, a somewhat looser form of Blank Verse is
in common use, varied occasionally by. rhyming couplets.
Frequently the verse is hypermetrical by one, or even two syl-
lables. Thus :—
Most pojtent, grave, | and rev' | rend Si|gniors ;
My ve|ry no|ble and | approv'd | good mas|fer*.
292 VEKSEBTCATION.
143. The combinations that are formed to meet the
necessities, or gain the advantage, of Khyme, are so ex-
ceedingly numerous, that it will be impossible to allude
to more than a few of the common forms, associated
with well-marked kinds of composition. In these the
Iambic measure is found largely to preponderate.
Iambic- Octosyllabics, of four measures, or eight syllables,
in couplets rhyming at the close. As,
Lord Mar'|mion turn'd', | well' was | his need',
And dash'd' | the row'|els in' | his steed'.
This form is employed in Byron's Tales, in Hudibras, &c.
Scott varies it often by lines of six syllables, or runs it into
triplets. Other poets write triplets in stanzas. Quatrains in
stanzas, rhyming by couplets or alternately, are exceedingly
common.
Heroic Couplets, five iambic measures rhymed.
Know well | thyself, | presume | not God | to scan ;
The prop|er stud|y of | mankind | is man.
Chaucer, Dryden, Pope, Cowper, &c, use this metre. Like the
last, it is occasionally run into triplets, which may form staAzas.
Several more complex combinations are formed out of
rhyming heroics.
A stanza of four lines, rhyming alternately, is the Elegiac
Metre, found in Gray's Elegy, Dryden's Annus Mirabilis, &c.
Let not | Ambi|tion mock | their use|ful toil,
Their home|ly joys, | and des|tiny | obscure;
Nor gran|deur hear | with a | disdain |ful smile,
The short | and simjple an|nals of | the poor.
Seven heroic lines, the first five rhyming at intervals and
the last two in succession, give the Rhyme Royal of Chaucer
and the Elizabethan writers.
But, oh | the dole|ful sight | that then | we see!
We turned our look, and on the other side
A grisly shape of Famine mought we see :
With greedy looks, and gaping mouth, that cried
And roared for meat, as she should there have died :
Her body thin and bare as any bone,
Whereto was left nought but the case alone.
DIFFERENT EUTDS OF TERSE. 293
Eight heroics, the first six rhyming alternately and the last
two in succession, compose the Italian Ottava Rima. This
combination is found in translations, and in Don Juan.
The oth|er fa|ther had | a weakjlier | child,
Of a soft cheek, and aspect delicate ;
But the boy bore up long, and with a mild
And patient spirit held aloof his fate !
Little he said, and now and then he smiled
As if to win a part from off the weight
He saw increasing on his father's heart,
With the deep deadly thought that they must part.
The Sonnet consists of fourteen lines of ten syllables with a
peculiar arrangement of the rhymes, not, however, always strict-
ly observed.
The Spenserian stanza of Spenser, Beattie, and Byron, is
an English combination of eight heroics rhyming at intervals,
and followed by a rhyming Alexandrine of twelve syllables.
The li|on would | not leave | her des[olate,
But with her went along, as a strong guard
Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate
Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard :
Still when she slept, he kept both watch and ward ;
And when she waked, he waited diligent
With humble service to her will prepared ;
From her | fair eyes | he took | comman' dement,
And ev[er by | her looks | conceiyjed her | intent.
The Alexandrine, of six iambic measures, and rhyming in
couplets, is employed by itself in Drayton's Polyolbion.
Seven iambic measures, rhyming in couplets, form the com-
mon metre of psalms and hymns, and also the Ballad metre.
Lord, thou | hast been | our dwel'ling place || in genlerajtionsall,
Before | thou evjer had'st | brought forth || the mountains great | or small.
As the pause falls regularly after the fourth measure, it is
customary to write the couplet as a stanza of four lines ; in
the following example, the first and third lines are made to
rhyme : —
11 Soft as the dew from heaven descends,
His gentle accents fell ;
The modest stranger lowly bends,
And follows to the cell."
294 VERSIFICATION.
A single example of Trochaic combination may be quoted.
" Onward, onward may we press
Through the path of duty ;
Virtue is true happiness,
Excellence, true beauty.
Minds are of celestial birth ;
Make we then a heaven of earth."
Great as is the number of existing models, English poets
have still large scope for new and original combinations.
APPENDIX
EXTRACTS ANALYZED.
Extract I.— The following (from Forbes's Travels through -he
Alps) is a striking example of the Allegory, or protracted compari-
son (p. 37). I shall employ it farther in illustrating other points
connected with style, and, in so doing, will suggest certain improve-
ments in the expression. There is unavoidably a frequent repeti-
tion of ' it ' and ' its ' ; but, in several instances, a slight alteration
of structure will allow them to be omitted.
1. "Poets and philosophers have delighted to compare the
" course of human life to that of a river ; perhaps a still apter sim-
"ile might be found in the history of a glacier." This sentence is
well constructed for bringing out with emphasis the main subject —
the glacier ; the first half is preparatory, and properly ends with
the balancing subject — a river. A few minute alterations might be
suggested : — ' Poets and philosophers ' are somewhat too promi-
nently placed, considering their subordinate position ; and the clum-
sy addition ' that of ' maybe dispensed with. "It has been the
delight [custom, habit, practice] of poets and philosophers to com-
pare the course of human life to a river, &c."
2. " Heaven-descended in its origin, it yet takes its mould and
" conformation from the hidden womb of the mountains which
" brought it forth." Or : — " In origin heaven-descended, it yet
takes mould and conformation from the hidden womb of the moun-
tains that brought it forth."
3. " At first soft and ductile, it acquires a character and firm-
" ness of its own, as an inevitable destiny urges it in its onward
career." "At first soft and ductile, the mass acquires a special
296 EXTKACTS ANALYZED. [EX. I.
character and firmness, as inevitable destiny urges its onward
career."
4. " Jostled and constrained by the crosses and inequalities of
" its prescribed path, hedged in by impassable barriers which fix
"limits to its movements, it yields groaning to its fate, and still
" travels forward seamed with the scars of many a conflict with op-
posing obstacles." An example of strength through the descrip-
tion of vast forces at work, rendered impressive by apt and unhack-
neyed metaphors. The participial construction is again happily
made use of. The last words ' with many opposing obstacles,' add
to the power of the passage, only on the supposition that the pre-
vious word ' conflict ' does not suggest the multiplicity and many-
sidedness of the opposition that is encountered.
5. " All this while, although wasting, it is renewed by an un-
" seen power — it evaporates, but is not consumed." It might be
hypercritical to object to the mixed metaphor, 'consumed,' seeing
that the original meaning is seldom thought of in its multifarious
applications; there is, however, a certain discord in joining it with
the scientifically literal word ' evaporate.' In other respects, the
clause is an agreeable iteration, and fills up the cadence of the
sentence.
6. " On its surface it bears the spoils which, during the progress
" of its existence, it has made its own ; — often weighty burdens de-
" void of beauty or value, — at times precious masses, sparkling with
" gems or with ore." A new circumstance to heighten the interest
of the description, and add to the particulars of the comparison. In
the first part, some changes might be made to save the repetition of
the pronoun. " On its surface are the spoils appropriated in the
progress of its existence." The second part illustrates one impor-
tant use of the apposition clause, namely, to give special examples
of a previous generality ; it being desirable to include such particu-
lars, if possible, in the same sentence as the general.
7. " Having at length attained its greatest width and extension,
"commanding admiration by its beauty and power, waste predomi-
" nates over supply, the vital springs begin to fail ; it stoops into
" an attitude of decrepitude ; — it drops the burdens, one by one,
" which it had borne so proudly aloft ; its dissolution is inevitable."
The language is well chosen for maintaining the strength of the de-
scription. Still, there is a certain looseness that might be reme-
died ; and the author has not escaped the snare, in grammar, of the
participial construction. " At length attaining its greatest ampli-
EX. l] foebes on the glacier. 297
tude, commanding admiration by its power and beauty, it begins to
decline; the vital springs fail; waste predominates over nourish-
ment [' supply ' is too literal] ; it stoops into decrepitude, — drops,
one by one, the burdens it had borne so proudly aloft, — approaches
to dissolution."
8. " But as it is resolved into its elements, it takes all at once, a
"new, and livelier, and disembarrassed form : — from the wreck of
"its members it arises, 'another, yet the same,' — a noble, full-
" bodied, arrowy stream, which leaps rejoicing over the obstacles
" which before had staid its progress, and hastens through fertile
" valleys towards a freer existence, and a final union in the ocean
" with the boundless and the infinite." The force of the descrip-
tion is here more remarkable than the suitableness of the compari-
son. A few minor amendments may be suggested. " In being re-
solved into its elements, it takes of a sudden, a new, a disembar-
rassed, and livelier form : — from the wreck of its members it arises,
' another, yet the same ; ' as a noble, full-bodied, arrowy stream, it
leaps rejoicing over the obstacles that had once hemmed it in, and
hastens through fertile tracts [' valleys ' too literal] towards a freer
existence, and a final union with the element [' ocean ' literal] of
the boundless and the infinite."
The laws of the paragraph are here fully complied with. The
opening sentence brings forward the subject. The other sentences
are arranged on the parallel construction, the requisite variety being
obtained without inverting the subject and predicate. The close of
each sentence is occupied with a phrase suitable to the place of em-
phasis. The whole paragraph moves on to a climax.
Exteact II. — The following is part of Locke's illustration of the
decay of our mental acquisitions. It exemplifies figures of Simili-
tude profusely applied to the mind ; the production of Feeling or
Pathos, so as to impart human interest in scientific exposition ; and
various minute points in the structure of the sentence and the
paragraph.
1. "The memory of some men is very tenacious, even to a
"miracle [slightly hyperbolical];* (but) yet there seems to be a
* A parenthesis occurring in the quotations means that the word or
words enclosed might be left out. The words in single inverted commas
are words proposed to be inserted, sometimes in the room of others to be
left out, and sometimes as a pure addition. The original text will be
known by including the words in parenthesis, and omitting those in in-
13*
298 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. H.
" constant decay of all our ideas, even of those (which are) struck
" deepest, and in minds the most retentive ; (so that) if they be not
14 sometimes renewed by repeated exercise of the senses or 4 by '
" reflection on (those kinds of objects which) ' on the objects that '
" at first occasioned them, the print wears out, and at last there
" remains nothing to be seen [pleonastic ; omit last clause, or say
" ' and at last nothing remains ']."
Here we have a variety of metaphors for describing the intellec-
tual function called memory. The second half of the sentence,
commencing after the semicolon, is a mere iteration of the other
half, and should not be introduced by a conjunction expressing
consequence (' so that ') or by any conjunction whatever.
2. " Thus the ideas, as well as * the ' children of our youth, often
"die before us; and our minds represent to us (those tombs to
" which we are approaching) ' the tombs we are approaching,'
" where though the brass (and) ' or ' marble remain, (yet) the in-
" scriptions are effaced by time, and the imagery moulders away."
An admired stroke of feeling. It fulfils all the conditions of effec-
tive pathos. The allusion is to the perennial subject of pathos ; it
is an original, or at least an unhackneyed comparison; and the
harmony or keeping is perfect. ' And ' might be dispensed with,
both after the semicolon and before the concluding clause, on the
ground of iteration.
3. "Pictures drawn in our minds are laid in fading colors, and,
"unless sometimes refreshed, vanish and disappear [tautology]."
An additional illustration; the keeping of the metaphors being
still preserved. The comma after ' colors ' might be a semicolon ;
the ' and ' being omitted on account of iteration.
4. The concluding long sentence passes off into a physical ex-
planation of the fact of decay. Being a distinct theme, of great
importance and difficulty, it should have been the subject of a sep-
arate paragraph. " How much the constitution of our bodies, and
" the make of our animal spirits are concerned in this, and whether
" the temper of the brain makes this difference, that in some it re-
" tains the characters drawn on it like marble, in others like free-
" stone, and in others little better than sand, I shall not here in-
" quire ; though it may seem probable, that the constitution of the
verted commas ; the amended text by leaving out the words in parentheses,
and reading those in commas. Brackets are used for enclosing a passing
critical remark.
EX. H.] LOCKE OX MEMORY. 299
" body does sometimes influence the memory ; since we oftentimes
" find a disease quite strip the mind of all its ideas, and the flames
" of a fever in a few days calcine all those images to dust and con-
" fusion, which seemed to be as lasting as if graved on marble/'
There are various defects in this sentence. It contains matter for
two. " I do not here inquire how far our bodily constitution and
animal spirits [tautology] are concerned in the effect, or whether
the temper of the brain is so various that in one man it retains the
characters drawn on it, as if on marble, and in another no better
than on sand. "We may, however, consider it probable that the
coustitution of the body to a certain extent influences memory ; for
we often observe that a disease will strip the mind of all its ideas,
and the flames of a fever in a few days calcine to dust and confu-
sion images apparently as lasting as if graved on marble."
Extract III. — In the Philosophy of Ehetoric, Campbell gives a
good example of the Allegory, as it may be admitted into modern
composition. The passage may also be used to exemplify other im-
portant features of style.
1. " These two qualities, therefore, Probability and Plat-sibil-
"ity (if I maybe indulged a little in the allegorical style),* I shall
" call sister-graces, daughters of the same father, Experience, who
" is the progeny of Memory, the first-born and heir of Sense.'''' This
sentence commences properly with what is the principal subject
both of the sentence and of the entire paragraph. The ending is
not so good ; the two concluding clauses do not give the prominent
feature in the predicate (' sister-graces, daughters of Experience '),
but certain subordinate or explanatory facts. It might not be easy
to remedy this entirely, but the following amendment goes a certain
way : — " I shall call sister-graces, daughters of the same father Ex-
perience, himself the progeny of Memory, who was the first-born
and heir of Sense." As the two clauses are at present constructed,
the second seems as if in apposition to the first. If it were not for
the objection to multiplying parentheses, the two clauses might be
cast into the parenthetic form, so as still to leave the place of em-
phasis to the essential part of the predicate.
2. " These daughters Experience had by different mothers." A
suitable inversion to maintain the principal subject in its place; also
a form of explicit reference (p. 147).
* Author's parenthesis.
300 EXTKACTS ANALYZED. [EX. m.
3. "The elder is the offspring of Reason, the younger is the child
"of Fancy" The variation from 'offspring' to 'child,' so obvi-
ously made for the sake of variety, might have been avoided ; more-
over, there is a defect in not stating which of the two, — Probability
or Plausibility — is the elder ; the reader is left to infer the author's
intention from the fact that Probability is named first. We might
say, " Probability, the elder, is the child of Reason ; Plausibility,
the younger, the child of Fancy."
4. " The elder, regular in (her) features, and majestic both in
" shape and ' in ' mien, is admirably fitted (for commanding) ' to
" command ' esteem, and even (a religious) veneration ; the young-
"er, careless (?), blooming, sprightly, is (entirely) 'altogether'
" formed for captivating the heart and (engaging) ' inspiring ' love."
The word 'careless,' as placed here, is out of harmony; it would
perhaps be better as a contrast or reservation ; ' the younger bloom-
ing and sprightly, but careless.' "Were not the two concluding ex-
pressions tautological (although an admissible tautology), 'engag-
ing ' should be preceded by ' for.'
5. " The conversation of each is entertaining and instructive,
" but in different ways." Otherwise, " Both are in conversation
entertaining and instructive, but in different ways ; " the principal
subject is ' both,' and ' conversation ' belongs to the predicate. I
conceive, however, that the emphatic part of the predicate is ' en-
tertaining and instructive,' which ought, therefore, to be placed
last. (Sentence, § 154.)
6. " Sages seem to think that there is more instruction to be
" (gotten) 'got' from the just observations of the elder; almost all
" are agreed that there is more entertainment in the lively sallies
"of the younger." There is an inversion of the 'order, in oppo-
sition to the Second Rule of the Paragraph, evidently for the sake
of variety. To make the matter worse, the place of honor at the
beginning is occupied by a subordinate word. " It seems to be the
opinion of sages, that the just observations of the elder contribute
most to our instruction ; it is agreed by almost all, that the lively
sallies of the younger have more entertainment." 'Elder' and
' younger ' are still in the place of prominence. *
7. " The principal companion and favorite of the first is Truth,
" but whether Truth or Fiction share most in the favor of the sec=-
" ond it were often difficult to say." The ' one ' and the ' other,'
should be used, before having recourse to the ' first ' and the ' sec-
ond.' Or it might be now allowable to repeat the names, which
EX. in.] ALLEGOKY BY CAMPBELL. 301
would make it easy to amend the order. " Probability's principal
companion and favorite is Truth ; but it is often difficult to say
whether Plausibility prefers Truth or Fiction."
8. " Both are naturally well-disposed, and even friendly to
" Virtue, but the elder is by much the more steady of the two
"[Redundancy: 'much the steadier' J; the younger, though per-
" haps not less capable of (doing) good, is more easily corrupted,
" and hath sometimes basely turned procuress to vice." The order
here is unexceptionable.
9. " Though rivals, they have a sisterly affection to each other,
" and love to be together." ' To each other ' appears pleonastic after
' sisterly affection.' This sentence is a good example of variation of
form, attained without violating the proper order of the parts.
10. "The elder, sensible that (there are but a) few (who) can
"for any 'long' time relish her society alone, is generally anxious
'that her sister 'should' be of the party; the younger, conscious
" of (her own) superior talents (in this respect) ' for amusement,'
" can more easily dispense with the other's company."
11. " Nevertheless, when she is discoursing on great and serious
" subjects, in order to add weight to her words, she often quotes
" her sister's testimony, which she knows is better credited than
"her own, a compliment that is but sparingly returned by the
" elder." This sentence is a continuation of the second member
of the previous sentence, and should have made part of that mem-
ber. If, as the author probably felt, it was too much to append in
that way, the alternative was to commence a new sentence with
the second part of the previous one. There is no harm in occupy-
ing two successive sentences with a balanced comparison or con-
trast ; while the present arrangement contains an ambiguous refer-
ence, and introduces a sentence not co-ordinate with the others.
Taken by itself, the present sentence is well arranged. A subor-
dinate clause precedes the principal. The qualifying phrase 'in
order to add weight to her words,' precedes in close proximity the
clause to be qualified. The relative clause 'which she knows is
better credited than her own,' although a loose addition to the
predicate, yet contains the gist and force of the assertion, and
therefore properly comes last. The final clause, 'a compliment
that is but sparingly returned by the elder,' is equivalent to a sep-
arate member — 'while the elder but sparingly returns the compli-
ment,' — important to be added, and, in its present form, given with
a certain careless ease.
302 EXTBA£TS ANALYZED. [EX. DX
12, 13. " Each sister hath her admirers. Those of the younger
" are more numerous, those of the elder more constant." The con-
struction 'that of,' 'those of,' should, in my opinion, if possible, be
dispensed with. Moreover, it is not desirable to invert, as in this
and in the following sentences, the order of naming the two sisters.
" Each is admired ; the elder with greater constancy, the younger
by the larger circle."
14, 15. " In the retinue of the former, you will find the young,
" the gay, the dissipated ; but these are not her only attendants.
" The middle-aged, however, and the thoughtful, more commonly
" attach themselves to the latter." There is no harm in occupying
two sentences with the comparison ; but, in the present instance,
one would not have been too prolix. We now see the evil effect
of inverting the order ; it takes a special and needless effort of at-
tention to interpret ' former ' as the younger, and ' latter ' as the
elder. Besides correcting this mistake, we may amend the order
in other respects. " The one has among her retinue, the young,
the gay, the dissipated (although not them alone) [an awkward
appendage, making the sentence loose, and occupying the place of
emphasis without being the most important fact] ; to the other, are
more commonly attached the middle-aged and thoughtful."
16. " To conclude ; (as something may be learned of characters)
" ' as characters may in some degree be known ' from the invectives
" of enemies, as well as from the encomiums of friends, those who
"have not judgment to discern the good qualities of the first-born
" [an elegant variation] accuse her of (dulness, pedantry, and stiff-
" ness) ' stiffness, pedantry, and dulness ; ' those who have not
" taste to relish the charms of the second [does not tally with ' first-
born,'] charge her with (folly, levity, and falseness) 'levity, folly,
" and falseness.' " It would be more in conformity with the laws
of the sentence thus : — " the first-born is accused, by such as have
no judgment to discern her good qualities, of stiffness, pedantry,
and dulness; the other is charged, by those unable to relish her
charms, with levity, folly, and falseness."
17. " Meantime, it appears to be the universal [a word of too
" much emphasis for light composition, say ' general,' or ' common']
"opinion of the impartial, and 'of such as (have been) 'are' best
" acquainted with both, that though the attractions of the younger
" (be) 'are' more irresistible at sight, the virtues of the elder will
" be longer remembered." To bring out a climax, the inversion
of the two sisters may be here excused, especially when the desig-
EX. m.] ALLEGOBY BY CAMPBELL. 303
nations are unmistakable. The order of the sentence is that recom-
mended above for 6 and 15.
The passage, as a whole, realizes most of the laws of the para-
graph ; the main subject is clearly stated at the outset; by a few
amendments we can bring out the parallel construction ; the strict
adherence to the main theme realizes unity. The only point to be
considered is whether the particulars have a natural and easy con-
tiguity, such as to aid the memory and the comprehension of the
whole ; or whether, in any case, there be dislocation. The order
of topics is, — (1) Parentage, (2) outward appearance, (3) conversa-
tion, (4) choice of companions, (5) moral character, (6) sisterly affec-
tion and mutual deference, (7) characters of the admirers of each,
(8) allegations of enemies, (9) intended summary and climax. The
chief instance of dislocation is perhaps the moral character (5),
which is placed between choice of companions and sisterly affec-
tion; a better situation might be between 7 and 8, after social
qualities, and before the allegations of enemies. It might also be
advisable to place sisterly affection earlier, say third (after outward
appearance); the particulars connected with the social qualities
generally, 3, 4, 7, would then be brought together.
Exteact IV. — The next extract is from Cowley's Essay on
Cromwell, and illustrates various rhetorical peculiarities. It is
made impressive by the form of Interrogation, to which the only
objection is the length. The opening clause is an example of
strength or elevation produced by an effective contrast and a power-
ful circumstance ('destruction of one of the most ancient, &c.') ; it
contains also an elegant condensation. Clauses 2, 3, 4, have the
same union of contrast and circumstance. Clause 5, ' to trample
upon them too ; ' powerful metaphor ; a strong term (' spurn ') aptly
used (Steexgth § 95). In 6, 7, we have keeping of metaphors, and
these of a powerful kind: also elegant periphrasis ('to set himself
up,' &c). In 3, 9, 10, additional particulars aggrandize the picture,
each containing a balanced statement. (11) 'To be feared and
courted ' illustrates the vocabulary of strength (p. 91) ; the two ex-
pressions are tautological, but add to the impression; the second
being a figure for raising the power of the first. (12) Strength by
Metonymies. (13) Another striking contrast, illustrating the Pro-
tector's greatness. (14) The same: 'noble and liberal,' admissible
tautology. (15) The passage is now brought to a climax ; the
three remaining clauses rise in strength and grandeur of ideas and
304 EXTRACTS ANALYZED* [EX. IV.
language to the close, and body forth in well-chosen terms the sub-
lime of human greatness — reputation and immortality.
Irrespective of the rhetoric, the language is highly idiomatic and
choice. It is also musical, and might be studied in connection with
the laws of Melody.
" What can be more extraordinary than that a person of mean
1 birth, no fortune, no eminent qualities of body, which have
sometimes — or of mind, which have often — raised men to the
highest dignities, should have the courage to attempt, and the
happiness to succeed in so improbable a design, as the destruc-
tion of one of the most ancient and most solidly-founded mon-
2 archies upon the earth? that he should have the power or bold-
ness to put his prince and master to an open and infamous
3, 4 death; to banish that numerous and strongly-allied family ; to
5 do all this under the name and wages of a parliament ; to tram-
ple upon them, too, as he pleased, and spurn them out of doors
6 when he grew weary of them; to raise up a new and unheard-
7 of monster out of their ashes; to stifle that in the very infancy,
and set up himself above all things that ever were called sover-
8 eign in England ; to oppress all his enemies by arms, and all his
9 friends afterwards by artifice; to serve all parties patiently for
10 awhile, and to command them victoriously at last ; to overrun
each corner of the three nations, and overcome with equal fa-
cility both the riches of the south and the poverty of the north;
11 to be feared and courted by all foreign princes, and adopted a
12 brother to the gods of the earth ; to call together parliaments
with a word of his pen, and scatter them again with the breath
13 of his mouth ; to be humbly and daily petitioned, that he would
please to be hired, at the rate of two millions a year, to be the
master of those who had hired him before to be their servant;
14 to have the estates and lives of three kingdoms as much at his
disposal as was the little inheritance of his father, and to be as
15 noble and liberal in the spending of them ; and lastly (for there
is no end of all the particulars of his glory),* to bequeath all this
16 with one word to his posterity ; to die with peace at home, and
triumph abroad ; to be buried among kings, and with more than
17 regal solemnity; and to leave a name behind him not to be ex-
tinguished but with the whole world ; which, as it is now too
little for his praises, so might have been, too, for his conquests,
if the short line of his human life could have been Wretched out
to the extent of his immortal designs ? "
Extract V. — The following passage from Addison has often
been commented on : —
1. " Our sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all our
* Author's parenthesis.
ex. v.] addison's pleasures of the imagination. 305
" senses." As sight is the subject of the paragraph, it properly oc-
cupies the place of prominence at the beginning. The predicate is
mere vague commendation ; such as it is, however, the stress does
not fall upon the closing words ' all our senses,' but upon the pre-
vious epithets. Hence a better order would be, "Our sight is, of all
our senses, the most perfect and the most delightful," or better
still : — " Of all our senses, sight is the most perfect and the most
delightful." Moreover, this would be a good case for throwing the
subject to the end of the sentence : — " The most perfect and delight-
ful of all our senses is sight."
The sentence as it stands in the original is highly melodious.
The melody is owing, first, to there being few abrupt consonants or
harsh combinations. It arises, secondly, from the variety of the
vowels. Thirdly, it depends on the rhythmical construction, or the
alternation of long and short, emphatic, and unemphatic sounds.
Between every two emphatic syllables, there are two or three un-
emphatic to relieve the voice, while some of these may receive a
partial emphasis at discretion. And, fourthly, the word 'senses'
makes a good falling close. The word ' all ' might be dispensed
with, as far as concerns the meaning ; but it is a great addition to
the melody, having a liquid consonant as well as a vowel not al-
ready contained in the sentence, and supplying the want of a long
emphatic syllable. ' Our ' is not strictly required by the meaning,
but it helps the sound, and gives a slight unction of personality to
the subject.
2. " It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses
"with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest
" in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoy-
" ments." The principal subject is in its place, at the beginning.
The three predicates are a series of balanced clauses, arranged as a
climax ; the greater length of the last is one of the marks of its
superior importance. The sentence explains and amplifies the fore-
going, and needs no conjunction to introduce it ; the parallel con-
struction makes the reference easy ; the ' it ' has only one possible
antecedent. The words are for the most part aptly chosen. As a
metaphor for the occasion, 'fills the mind' is good and expressive;
'largest variety of ideas' ought in strictness to be ' greatest variety,'
or 'largest number.'' 'Converses with its objects' is a slight per-
sonification. The concluding phrase, if rigidly scanned, shows tau-
tology — ' tired or satiated,' and redundancy — ' with its proper en-
joyments.'
306 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. V.
The melody may also be remarked on. There is a studied
variety in the sound of the balanced clauses ; the verbs are ' fills the
mind,' ' converses with,' ' continues in action ; ' the only fault is the
sameness of 'converses' and 'continues.' The nouns— ' ideas,'
' distance,' ' action ' — are sufficiently varied. The closing words are
an easy cadence— 'its proper enjoyments.'
3. " The sense of feeling can indeed give us a notion of exten-
u sion, shape, and all other ideas that enter at the eye, except colors ;
" but, at the same time, it is very much strained, and confined in
" its operations, to the number, bulk, and distance of its particular
"objects."
This is a contrasting or obverse statement, so much valued in
exposition. Sight has been previously declared the most perfect of
the senses ; and the affirmation is now iterated by putting forward
one of the less perfect in contrast. In such obverse iteration, the
rule of parallel construction still holds : ' feeling ' receives the place
corresponding to ' sight.' The connecting word ' indeed ' is not a
conjunction, but an adverbial qualification to prepare the way (by
a certain amount of admission) for repeating the main thesis on the
obverse side. It is, however, misplaced; it should follow 'The
sense of feeling.' The whole clause might run thus : " The sense
of touch, indeed, can give us the notions of extension, shape, and
all other ideas that enter the eye, with the exception of color."
The author's phrase ' except colors ' is too short for the importance
of the exception. The preposition ' of should in strictness be re-
peated before ' shape,' and before ' all other ideas ; ' but this would
be too cumbersome for Addison's taste. In such instances, it is
well to evade the difficulty, by adopting a form that does not need
a preposition ; as, " The sense of touch can impart extension, shape,
and all other ideas ; " in which form, however, the expression is
less accurate, as it is the notions, and not the properties that are
imparted.
To pass to the second member. The words ' but at the same
time 'are the correlative or answering phrase to 'indeed.' We
have many such couples : ' True ' is answered by 'still ; ' ' although '
by ' yet,' ' nevertheless,' &c. In the words, ' it is very much strained
and confined in its operations,'— the last phrase is happy; but
'strained' is not an admissible tautology, being unsuited to the
meaning. The words that follow, ' number, bulk, and distance of
its particular objects,' constitute a series of abstractions close to-
gether, which, although unavoidable in scientific style, is necessa-
ex. v.] addison's pleasures of the iMAGrxATiox. 30 T
rily difficult to comprehend, and therefore unsuitable in popular
composition. The clause might have been dispensed with ; or a
little more amplification might have been given to it, so as to afford
time for realizing the abstractions : " confined to things few in
number, small in size, and (near) 'limited' in distance." As it
stands, the palliating circumstances are, the great simplicity of the
abstractions, and the iteration and expansion of them in the next
sentence.
4. " Our sight seems designed to supply all these defects, and
a may be considered as a more delicate and diffusive kind of touch,
" that spreads itself over an infinite multitude of bodies, compre-
" hends the largest figures, and brings into our reach some of the
" most remote parts of the universe." This sentence returns to the
principal subject, and works up the contrast point by point ; also
rising to a climax. After ' diffusive kind of touch,' we might have
a semicolon ; what follows is an explanatory opposition, and would
be better commenced, ' it spreads itself: ' the relative ' that ' is not
suitable to the case. A few verbal changes might be suggested :
" and may be considered a more delicate and diffused touch ; it
spreads itself over an infinite multitude of bodies, comprehends the
greatest amplitudes, and brings within reach the remotest parts of
the universe." I omit '-some of the remotest,' because rigid qualifi-
cations have a cramping effect when the feelings are to be roused.
The author's terms are well chosen, the variety in the balanced
phrases, as well as the rhythm of the whole, contributing to the
melody.
5. "It is this sense (which) ' that ' furnishes the imagination
" with its ideas ; so that, by the pleasures of the imagination or
"fancy (which I shall use promiscuously),* I here mean such as
" arise from visible objects, either when we have them actually in
"our view, or when we call up their ideas into our minds by
" paintings, statues, ' or ' descriptions, or any the like occasion."
"We here see the uses of our idiom ' it is,' in imparting emphasis to
a principal subject, and in varying the form of the sentence, so as
to save the parallel construction of the paragraph. The ' so that '
is too abrupt an inference : the transition might have been smoothed
thus : — " so much so that when we speak of the pleasures of the
imagination, we really mean such as arise from visible objects."
The parenthetic clause would be better thus: — "imagination or
* Author's parenthesis.
308 EXTEACTS ANALYZED. [EX. V.
fancy (I here use those terms promiscuously)." The concluding
portion may be slightly changed : " either when we have them act-
ually in view, or when we call up the ideas of them by painting,
statues, or descriptions." 'Them' and 'the ideas of them' are a
better balance than ' them ' and ' their ideas.'
6. The next sentence is not well connected with the previous.
" We cannot (indeed) have a single image in the fancy that did
"not make its first entrance through the sight; but (we have)
" ' what we have is ' the power of retaining, altering, and (com-
" pounding those images, which we have once received), ' compound-
" ing the images once received,' into all the varieties of picture and
" vision that are most agreeable to the imagination : (for) ' so that '
" by this faculty a man in a dungeon is capable of entertaining
"himself with scenes and landscapes more beautiful than any that'
" can be found in the whole compass of nature."
This is an explanatory or amplifying iteration of the first mem-
ber of the previous sentence (' It is this sense that furnishes the
imagination with its ideas ') : the intervening portion is dislocated.
But to suit the plan of the present sentence, the one preceding
should have been commenced thus, " Our imagination derives its
ideas from this sense." The drift of the new paragraph is no longer
to illustrate, as a principal subject, sight, but to explain imagination
by a reference to sight. This being supposed, the sentence now
quoted is a suitable expansion of the theme. The dislocated portion
of the 5th sentence might be put at the end of the 6th, as an infer-
ence or application, thus :— " When, therefore, we speak of the pleas-
ures of imagination or fancy, we mean such as arise from visible
objects," &c. The two sentences would then be a continuous para-
graph, according to the author's intention.
The last member of the sentence is an Example, under the theme
of the paragraph, made forcible by contrast, and altogether calcu-
lated to impart pleasure, elation, and surprise.
Exteact YI. — The present passage is from Robert Hall's sermon
entitled Reflections on War. It illustrates various figures, the
structure of the sentence, and some of the conditions of strength
and of pathos.
1. " Though the whole race of man is doomed to dissolution,
" and we are all hastening to our long home ; yet, at each succes-
" sive moment, life and death seem to divide betwixt them the do-
" minion of mankind, and life to have the larger share." A prepa-
EX. VI.] EOBEET HALL ON WAE. 309
ration by contrast for what is to follow. The iteration in the first
member, 'doomed to dissolution,' 'hastening to our long home,' is
intended to work up our pathetic feelings ; the effect depending not
upon originality, but upon suitability to the occasion, and on va-
riety, or our not having had the thought in our mind for some time
previous. The second member might be slightly curtailed and
more emphatically concluded : " yet at each (successive) moment
life and death hold a divided dominion, and the larger share seems
owned by life."
2. " It is otherwise in war ; death reigns there without a rival,
" and without control." Better perhaps thus : " In war it is other-
wise ; there the reigning aud uncontrolled power is death."
3. " "War is the work, the element, or rather the sport and tri-
"umph of death, (who glories) ' enabling him to glory ' not only in
" the extent of his conquest, but in the richness of his spoil." This
sentence is well formed for strength, in the choice of the words, in
the variety of the sound, and in the alternation of the abrupt pred-
icates at the commencement, with the lengthened clauses that
conclude.
It should be observed on these last two sentences, that, while
the author probably intended pathos, he really produces strength.
Death is personified as a vast power and a great conqueror, and if
we fancy ourselves out of the reach of his operations through war,
we are little affected by terror ; hence the picture to us is pure
sublimity (Strength, § 84).
4. " In the other methods of attack, in the other forms which
" death assumes, the feeble and the aged (who at the best can live
" but a short time), are (usually) the victims ; here it is the vigor-
" ous and the strong." The sentence is intended to be a contrast
in itself, but it is wordy, and full of prosaic limitations, while the
antithetic members are carelessly unbalanced. "In the other forms
of death, the victims are the feeble and the aged ; here they are the
vigorous and the young."
5. " It is remarked by the most ancient of poets, that in peace
" children bury their parents, in war parents bury their children ;
" nor is the difference small." The interruption here is not out of
keeping, and it detains the mind from hurrying too fast to the cli-
max. It contains a good example of Balance coupled with true An-
tithesis. The mention of the ' most ancient of poets ' adds nothing
to the force and is somewhat formal ; " It has been said," "It was
anciently remarked." The concluding member would stand better
310 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. VI.
as a new sentence. The curtness is a good variety. " The differ-
ence is not small."
6. " Children lament their parents, sincerely indeed, but with
" that moderate and tranquil sorrow, which it is natural for those
" to feel who are conscious of retaining many tender ties, many
" animating prospects." Otherwise : — " Children lament their par-
ents, sincerely indeed, but with a tranquil sorrow, becoming those
that still own many tender ties, many animating prospects." ' Mod-
erate sorrow ' gives the unpleasant effect of a stinting and perfunc-
tory duty.
7. We have now a sentence, the obverse or the antithesis of the
former, full of pathos. " Parents mourn for their children with the
" bitterness of despair ; (the aged parent), the widowed mother,
" loses, when she is deprived of her children, everything (but the
" capacity of suffering) ; her heart, withered and desolate, admits
" no other object, cherishes no other hope." The first member is
powerfully expressed. The second is burdened with the repetition
' aged parent,' which is unable to add pathetic force to ' widowed
mother ; ' ' aged father ' might have done so, but this would have
changed the design of the sentence. It may be doubted whether
the phrase ' but the capacity of suffering,' really adds to the effect :
it is too subtle and subjective to touch the feelings, unless by giving
occasion to bring in the term ' suffering.' The concluding member
is intensely pathetic. The vocabulary of feeling is well exemplified
in this sentence ; with the peculiarity, to be seen better in what
follows, of a vehemence somewhat too great for the highest pathos.
8. " It is Rachel weeping for her children, and refusing to be
" comforted, because they are not." A climax on the ground of
the speciality, or concreteness, and also as citing the highest author-
ity. The effect would be still better, if the word ' children ' did
not occur in the previous sentence.
The author properly considers his paragraph now complete.
The next paragraph takes up his theme on a new point, presenting
a different phase of the miseries of war.
1. "But to confine our attention to the number of the slain,
" would give us a very inadequate idea of the ravages of the
" sword." Too intellectual and latinized ; too much on the plan
of arithmetical numeration, which is a cold business process, inimi-
cal to feeling. Scarcely a tinge of pathos attaches to any of the
words; 'the ravages of the sword' is, if anything, a figure of
strength, and may excite terror and revulsion, but not pathos.
EX. VI.] ROBERT HALL ON T7AR. 311
2. "The lot of those who perish instantaneously may be consid-
" ered, apart from religious prospects, as comparatively happy, since
" they are exempt from (those) lingering diseases and slow tor-
" ments (to which others are liable)." The first clause is not well
selected for feeling ; ' instantaneously ' is a long unpronounceable
word, used only in science or in business. We might say "The
lot of those stricken in a moment." The qualification, ' apart from
religious prospects,' is unfortunate, being clearly official, to save
objections. Either it should be left out, and the whole given as
merely the terrestrial side ; or it should be put in with becoming
emphasis, " if we were able to put out of view their eternal pros-
pects." The clause ' since they are exempt from lingering diseases
and slow torments ' is better without the relative clause - to which
others are liable.' It is like the rest, energetically pathetic. The
tautology is admissible for impressiveness.
3. " We cannot see an individual expire, though a stranger or
" an enemy, without being sensibly moved, and prompted by com-
"passion to lend him every assistance in our power." 'Individual '
is not a name in the vocabulary of feeling; ' expire ' has not the
pathos of 'die.' 'Sensibly moved ' and 'prompted by compassion'
are not touching phrases. Moreover, it is seldom that general
maxims of human nature, so frequently invoked in preaching, con-
tribute to strength of emotion. They have the double disqualifica-
tion of subjectivity and generality. We should rather state the
truth in the concrete, or as an individual fact : " Stand by the
death-bed of one human being, and behold the throes and strug-
gles of a closing career. A stranger, or even an enemy, melts you
to compassion." The prosaic limitation ' to lend him every assist-
ance in your power ' is enfeebling.
4. "Every trace of resentment vanishes in a moment; every
"other emotion gives way to pity and terror." The same objec-
tionable generality. 'Every trace of resentment vanishes,' might
be changed to "your hatred as an enemy is subdued at once;"
"your enmity disappears." The terms in the second clause are
well chosen.
5. " (In these last extremities) ' At such a moment,' we remem-
" ber nothing but the respect and tenderness due to our common
"nature." It is now requisite to consider the author's language as
oratorically contrived, and not as the pure charm of pathos, which
he does not often realize. The present sentence is an oratorical ap-
peal for pity or sympathy on the ground of our common humanity.
u i
a t
312 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. VI.
6. "What a scene, then, must afield of battle present, where
" thousands are left (without) ' with no ' assistance, and (without)
with no ' pity, (with) their wounds exposed to the piercing air,
while the blood, freezing as it flows, binds them to the earth,
amidst the trampling of horses, and the insults of (an enraged)
the ' foe." Out of many possible ways of giving form to this
most terrible of subjects, the author has selected a few impressive
points. The particulars are coherent with the exception of the
last, which, although sufficiently strong to suit the climax, is a
change of the figure, and might have been expanded as a distinct
element of the description. The phrase ' their wounds exposed to
the piercing air ' is probably less suggestive than " their wounds
exposed and unstaunched."
7. "If they are spared by the humanity of the enemy, and car-
"riedfrom the field, it is but a prolongation of torment." "If
they are spared to be taken from the field, it is but to prolong their
sufferings." " If they are spared by the enemy, it is but to prolong
their sufferings."
8. " Conveyed in uneasy vehicles, often to a remote distance,
" through roads almost impassable, they are lodged in ill-prepared
"receptacles (for the wounded and the sick), where the variety of
"distress baffles all the efforts of humanity and skill, and renders
"it impossible to give to each the attention he demands." The
variety of the participial commencement is here well-timed. The
first member contains pertinent and impressive circumstances, but
' remote distance ' is tautological ; the second member (' where the
variety of distress ') is powerfully worded, but the last clause is an
anti-climax. "Conveyed to a distance in uneasy vehicles, they are
lodged in unsuitable tenements ; and the variety and amount of
the distress are such as to baffle the skill, and overpower the ener-
gies of the physician."
These two sentences are purely oratorical. By a strong pic-
ture, containing nothing to redeem the horror, they strip war of its
glorious pomp and circumstance, and substitute a feeling of ener-
getic revulsion.
9. 10. We have now the language of genuine pathos. "Far
"from their native home, no tender assiduities of friendship, no
" well-known voice, no wife, (or) mother, or sister, is near to
" soothe their (sorrows) ' agonies,' relieve their thirst, or close their
"eyes (in death) ' at last.' Unhappy man ! and must you be swept
"into the grave unnoticed and unnumbered [?], and no friendly
EX. VI.] ROBERT HALL OX WAR. 313
" tear be shed for your sufferings, or mingled with your dust ? "
The figurative turn of the last sentence is well-timed for varying
the language and constituting a climax, where it was hardly possi-
ble by increasing the strength of the phraseology.
The next paragraph changes the subject to the after-scenes of
war, and riots in the author's strength of language.
1. " If we consider the maxims of war which prevailed in the
" ancient world, and which still prevail in (many) barbarous nations,
" we perceive that those who survived the fury of battle and the
" insolence of victory, were only reserved for more durable calam-
ities; "—The forms, 'if we consider,' 'we perceive,' are unneces-
sary. "According to the maxims of war prevailing in ancient
times, and among barbarous nations at the present time, those that
survived the fury of battle and the insults of victory, were but re-
served for calamities more enduring."
2. "—swept into hopeless captivity, exposed in markets, (or)
"'and' plunged in mines, with the (melancholy) distinction be-
" stowed on princes and warriors, after appearing in the triumphal
" procession of the conqueror, of being conducted to instant death."
— " swept into hopeless captivity, exposed in markets, and plunged
in mines, while to princes and warriors were accorded the distinc-
tion of appearing in the triumphal procession of the victor, to be
then conducted to death."
3. " The contemplation of such scenes (as these) forces on us
" (this awful) ' the ' reflection, that neither the fury of wild beasts,
" the concussions of the earth, nor the violence of tempests, are to
" be compared to the ravages of arms ; " — " the reflection that the
fury of the wild beasts, the violence of the tempests, the devastation
of the earthquake, are not to be compared with the ravages of
war : " —
" — and that nature in her utmost extent, or, more properly,
" divine justice in its utmost severity, has supplied no enemy to
" man so terrible as man." Iteration and summing up of the idea
to form a climax ; ' utmost extent ' is an inharmonious union, and
might be changed to 'in all her extent,' 'in her widest compass ; '
'divine justice in its utmost severity' is a somewhat question-
able employment of divine justice ; the conclusion echoes ' the
proper study of mankind is man,' aDd is highly effective in its
melody.
Extract VII. — I now give a passage from Gibbon, to exem-
14
314 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. VII.
plify Description, and incidentally the laws of the sentence, and of
the paragraph, as well as minor points of style.
1. " In the vacant space between Persia, Syria, Egypt, and
" Ethiopia, the Arabian peninsula may be conceived as a (triangle
" of spacious but irregular dimensions) ' spacious and irregular tri-
" ' angle.' " The prefatory expression fixes the position of Arabia,
and the words ' peninsula ' and ' triangle ' furnish the comprehen-
sive type.
2. " From the northern point of Beles on the Euphrates, a line
" of fifteen hundred miles is terminated by the Straits of Babel-
"mandel and the land of frankincense." The statement of the
length is sufficiently expressive to those readers acquainted with
the points of reference ; it would, however, have been preferable
to say, " The length from north to south— from Beles on the Eu-
phrates, to the Straits of Babelmandel and the land of frankincense,
— is more than twice the length of the British isles." The sentence
is intended to follow up, with the detailed enumeration, the com-
prehensive type, given in the previous sentence. The land of ' frank-
incense ' is an expressive circumstance to animate the cold numer-
ical estimate. A concrete comparison is suggested, as, in these
large numbers, preferable to figures.
3. "About half this length may be allowed for the middle
" breadth, from east to west, from Bassora to -Suez, from the Per-
" sian Gulf to the Red Sea." The subject here is not 'length/ but
'middle breadth,' the second point in the enumeration of details,
and the order should be different. " The middle breadth, from
east to west, from Bassora to Suez, from the Persian Gulf to the
Red Sea, is about half this length."
4. " The sides of the triangle are gradually enlarged, and the
" southern basis presents (a front of a thousand miles to the Indian
" Ocean) ' to the Indian Ocean, a front of a thousand miles.' " The
first clause is hardly intelligible. He means, " The breadth steadily
increases, in accordance with the triangular shape — ". The men-
tion of the Indian Ocean gives a support to the description (p. 160),
besides being a picturesque feature.
5. Position, outline, and size being thus determined, he proceeds
to the surface. " The entire surface of the peninsula [well to re-
" peat the type] (exceeds in a fourfold proportion that of Germany
" or France) 'is more than four times the extent of Germany or of
"France;' but the far greater part has been justly stigmatized
"with the epithets (of the) stony and the sandy." The author
ex. til] gibbon's desceiption of aeabia. 315
here employs the method of concrete comparison; "more than
double German v and France together," would perhaps he still
neater. In passing from area in the first member, to quality of sur-
face in the second, the break or transition is such as to demand a
new sentence ; more especially as several succeeding sentences are
intended to amplify and illustrate the peculiarity of surface now
stated. " By far the greater part, however, has been justly stig-
matized," &c.
6. The features indicated are now to be shown in detail. The
present sentence gives an illustrative contrast. " Even the wilds
" of Tartary are decked, by (the hand of) Xature, with lofty trees
" and luxuriant herbage ; (and) the lonesome traveller derives a
" sort of comfort and society from the presence of vegetable life."
The 'and' within parentheses is proposed to be left out as coming
close after another ' and ' used to connect two phrases ; it is better,
in such cases, to leave the connection of the two members of the
sentence to be indicated by a semicolon pause.* The second mem-
ber merely iterates the first, and is somewhat feeble from wordi-
ness : " the lonesome traveller is cheered by the sight of vege-
tation." There is an omission in not explaining wherein the wild-
ness consists, if abundant vegetation be the characteristic of the
country
7. " But in the dreary waste of Arabia, a boundless level of sand
" is intersected by sharp and naked mountains ; and the face of the
" desert, without shade or shelter, is scorched by the direct and in-
" tense rays of a tropical sun." The main subject is in the place
of prominence, although not as the subject of the verb ; this is one
of the means of varying what might be considered the monotony
of the parallel construction. The comprehensive feature is well
given in the main clause, ' a boundless level of sand intersected by
sharp and naked mountains ; ' ' naked ' is a highly suggestive epi-
thet. The second member is also good in continuation ; ' face ' is a
comprehensive figure ; ' direct and intense ' has no fault but an ac-
* Ambiguity may arise in the reference of a conjunction -within a sen-
tence. Byron says,
' ; Restore me the recks where the snow flake reposes,
Though still they arc sacred to freedom and love."
He means 'though' to qualify the subordinate clause 'where the snow
flake reposes ; ' but it is more naturally referable to the principal clause,
'Restore me the rocks.'
316 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. VH.
cidental similarity to the common phrase ' direct and inverse ; '
' the intense rays of a tropical sun ' is quite enough.
8. The author adds new circumstances to the picture of the desert.
" Instead of refreshing breezes, the winds, particularly from the
" south-west, diffuse a noxious and even deadly vapor ; the hillocks
" of sand which they alternately raise and scatter, are compared to
" the billows of the ocean, (and) whole caravans, whole armies,
" have been lost and buried in the whirlwind." The contrasting
phrase, ' Instead of refreshing breezes ' is not here required ; the
main expression ' noxious and deadly vapor ' is enough ; the quali-
fying expression — ' particularly from the south-west ' — is a piece of
extra information that noway fits into the picture. The second
member of the sentence, 'the hillocks of sand,' &c, is not in its
place ; it belongs to the description of the surface, and the connec-
tion with the wind regards mechanical violence and not poisonous
qualities. If the point must come in here, it should be in full sub-
ordination to the main subject of the sentence, the winds ; " such
too is their violence, that the hillocks of sand alternately raised and
scattered by them, are compared to the billows of the ocean ; whole-
caravans," &c. Properly, this should have preceded the other
member of the sentence.
9. " The common .benefits of water are an object of desire and
" contest ; and such is the scarcity of wood, that some art is requi-
" site to preserve and propagate the element of fire." Or, " Water
is an object of contest ; and wood is so scarce," &c.
Exteaot VIII. — I quote, from Sir Walter Scott, three short
passages, also bearing upon the Descriptive Art.
The first is a description of Staffa.
1. "We visited Staffa and Iona. (The former) 'Staffa' is one
" of the most extraordinary places I ever beheld. It is a cathedral
" arch, scooped by the hand of Nature [this stock metaphor has
"here a certain keeping], equal in dimensions and in regularity to
"the most magnificent aisle of a Gothic cathedral." This is a
stroke of comparison that gives the general view at once.
"The sea rolls up to -the extremity in (most) tremendous majes-
" ty, and with a voice like ten thousand giants shouting at once."
A very powerful description, both to the eye and to the ear.
" It exceeded, in my mind, every description I had heard of it ;
" or rather, the appearance of the cavern, composed entirely of ba-
" saltic pillars as high as the roof of a cathedral, and running deep
EX. Tin.] SIR WALTER SCOTTS DESCRIPTIONS. 317
"into the rock, eternally swept by a deep and swelling sea, and
"paved, as it were, with ruddy marble, baffles all description."
This is a repetition of the sketch, with new particulars, making the
description as a whole somewhat loose, although redeemed by the
effectiveness of those particulars. Subjective effects are largely
made use of. The author might have combined the two separate
descriptions into one compact picture, such as the reader would
more easily realize and remember, instead of these desultory flashes.
" You can walk along the broken pillars, with some dilhculty,
" and in some places with a little danger, as far as the farthest ex-
"tremity." The ' broken pillars ' are made more vivid to the fan-
cy, by the individualizing circumstance of walking upon them.
" Boats also can come in below when the sea is placid, which
" is seldom the case." Another individualizing aid to the descrip-
tion. This sentence would be improved by a periodic arrangement,
which would also place the qualifying clause first. "^When the sea
is placid, which is seldom, boats also can come in below."
2. The next extract is a panoramic sketch of Edinburgh.
" If I were to choose a spot from which the rising or ' the ' set-
"ting sun could be seen to the greatest possible advantage, it would
" be that wild path winding round the foot of the high belt of
" semicircular rocks, called Salisbury Crags, and marking the verge
" of the steep descent which slopes down into the glen on the
"south-eastern side of the city of Edinburgh." The separate feat-
ures in this description, 'wild path,' 'winding round,' 'high belt,'
&c, are vividly expressed, but the arrangement is not such as to
put the reader in possession of a definite picture. Before introduc-
ing a ' wild path,' it was requisite to assign its whereabouts. So
with nearly all the other particulars ; they are here set up in a va-
cuity, and we have to wait for what follows to give them a place.
The author should have started from the ground where Edinburgh
is built, given the relation of Arthur's Seat to the town and the
surroundings ; he might then have figured the hill, and, in the order
of detail, he would have come upon Salisbury Crags and the wind-
ing path.
" The prospect, in its general outline, commands a close-built,
"high-piled city, stretching itself out beneath in a form, which to
" a romantic imagination [the author's own] may be supposed to
" resemble (that of) a dragon ; — now a noble arm of the sea, with
" its rocks, isle3, distant shores, and boundary of mountains ; and
" now a fair fertile country, varied with hill, dale, and rock, and
318 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. VTH.
" skirted by the picturesque ridge of the Pentland Mountains."
The same remarks apply here ; the individual features are strikingly
given, but with an absence of cohering plan. The view is not a
' prospect,' but a panorama. The author begins well from Edin-
burgh itself, and sketches its aspect with his usual happy touches.
The language that follows is suited to a mountain-top prospect, the
spectator remaining still, and allowing his gaze to wander here and
there irregularly. The reader is left to infer, by putting all things
together, what is not expressed, that, in following the path, the
view of Edinburgh disappears, and is followed by the Eirth of
Forth ; while, by moving still farther, the prospect is changed to
the varied plains on the south, terminating in the Pentlands.
M But as the path gently circles around the base of the cliff, the
" prospect, composed as it is of these enchanting and sublime ob-
jects, changes at every step, and presents them blended with, or
" divided from, each other in every possible variety which can
" gratify the eye and the imagination." It is hard to divine the
author's purpose in writing this sentence. It may be that to the
actual spectator, the blending of the scenes, or the variety of the
groupings, gives pleasure ; but no description can transfer to the
readers such a conception as to enable them to think of it with
pleasure. It is a mistake in art to suppose that the pleasing effects
of description can be produced by means of the language of asso-
ciated feelings, without a basis of vivid intellectual conception.
" When a piece of scenery so beautiful, yet so varied, — so ex-
" citing by its intricacy, and yet so sublime,— is lighted by the tints
" of morning or of evening, and displays all the variety of shadowy
" depth exchanged with partial brilliancy, which gives character
"even to the tamest of landscapes, the effect approaches near to
"enchantment." The same criticism is applicable here. It is im-
possible, by the help of the language given, to realize the scene so
as to be affected in the manner stated. Morning tints, shadowy
depth, and partial brilliancy, abstracted from any real scene in the
mind's grasp, cannot be expected, by the mere mention of them,
to cause any enchantment ; nor does it supply the deficiency to say
that if we saw the reality we should be enchanted. The author
has ventured into the province where the painter operates with
ease, and the poet with difficulty— the province of minute land-
scape description ; and he has neglected the precautions whereby
alone a poet can hope to attain the success possible to his art.
3. We shall give another quotation from Scott ; the vivid de-
EX. Vm.] SIR WALTER SCOTT'S DESCRIPTIONS. 319
scription of an Interior by the help of individualizing circumstances.
It is a hovel, the retreat of Balfour of Burley. The principal aim
of the passage is evidently to delineate Balfour himself; but, in so
doing, the author sketches, with great force and distinctness, some
parts of his chamber.
" Upon entering the place of refuge, he found Balfour seated on
' ; his humble couch, with a pocket Bible open in his hand, which
" he seemed to study with intense meditation. His broadsword,
" which he had unsheathed in the first alarm, at the arrival of the
" dragoons, lay naked across his knees, and the little taper that
" stood beside him on the old chest, which served the purpose of a
" table, threw a partial and imperfect light upon those stern and
"harsh features in which ferocity was rendered more solemn and
" dignified by a wild cast of tragic enthusiasm. His brow was that
u of one in whom some strong o'ermastering principle has over-
" whelmed all other passions and feelings, — like the swell of a high
"spring-tide, when the usual cliffs and breakers vanish from the
" eye, and their existence is only indicated by the chafing foam of
"the waves that burst and wheel over them."
The objection urged against the previous passage holds, to some
extent, against this attempt at portraiture. There is very little of the
actual outline, shape, and complexion, of Balfour's face — the visual
representation ; too much being left to the language conveying his
expression to the beholder — ferocity, enthusiasm, over-mastering
principle, &c. The closing simile is in itself striking and powerful ;
but the thing compared is shadowy and uncertain, and demanded a
similitude to enlighten the understanding, rather than one solely to
stir the feelings.
It will be seen, from our next example, that the defects of Scott,
in description, may be avoided by a man little, if anything, his in-
ferior in the poetic accompaniment of the art.
Extract IX. — The present extract is a specimen of Carlyle's de-
scriptive method. His peculiarities are, to bring forward in strong
relief the comprehensive aspects, to impress these by iteration and
by picturesque comparisons, to use the language of the associated
feelings (' beautiful country,' ' lonesome pine woods '), and, in the
shape of harmonious groupings (' multiplex industry, besung by
rushing torrents '), to introduce some of the elements of poetry.
" Schlesien, what we call Silesia, lies in elliptic shape, spread
on the top of Europe, partly girt with mountains, like the crown or
320 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. IX.
crest to that part of the Earth — highest table-land of Germany or
of the Cisalpine countries, and sending rivers into all the seas.
u The summit or highest level of it is in the south-west ; longest
diameter is from north-west to south-east. From Crossen, whither
Friedrich is now driving, to the Jablunka Pass, which issues upon
Hungary, is above 250 miles; the axis, therefore, or longest diame-
eter, of our Ellipse we may call 250 English miles ; its shortest or
conjugate diameter, from Friedland in Bohemia (Wallenstein's old
Friedland), by Breslau, across the Oder to the Polish Frontier, is
about 100. The total area of Schlesien is counted to be some
20,000 square miles, nearly the third of England Proper.
" Schlesien — will the reader learn to call it by that name, on
occasion ? for in these sad Manuscripts of ours the names alternate
— is a fine, fertile, useful, and beautiful Country. It leans sloping,
as we hinted, to the East and to the North ; a long curved buttress
of Mountains (" Riesengebirge, Giant Mountains," is their best-
known name in foreign countries) holding it up on the South and
West sides. This Giant-Mountain Range — which is a kind of con-
tinuation of the Saxon-Bohemian " Metal Mountains {Erzgebirge)"
and of the straggling Lausitz Mountains, to westward of these —
shapes itself like a bill-hook (or elliptically, as was said) : handle
-and hook together may be some 200 miles in length. The precipi-
tous side of this is, in general, turned outward, towards Bohmen,
Mahren, Ungarn (Bohemia, Moravia, Hungary, in our dialects) :
and Schlesien lies inside, irregularly sloping down towards the Bal-
tic and towards the utmost East. From the Bohemian side of these
Mountains there rise Two Rivers — Elbe, tending for the West;
Morawa, for the South : Morawa, crossing Moravia, gets into the
Donau, and thence into the Black-Sea ; while Elbe, after intricate
adventures among the mountains, and then prosperously across the
plains, is out, with its many ships, into the Atlantic. Two rivers,
we say, from the Bohemian or steep side : and again, from the Si-
lesian side, there rise other Two, the Oder and the Weichsel ( Vis-
tula) ; which start pretty near one another in the South-east, and,
after wide windings, get both into the Baltic, at a good distance
apart.
" For the first thirty, or in parts, fifty miles from the Moun-
tains, Silesia slopes somewhat rapidly, and is still to be called a
Hill-country, rugged -extensive elevations diversifying it ; but after
that, the slope is gentle, and at length insensible, or noticeable only
by the way the waters run. From the central part of it, Schlesien
ex. ix.] carlyle's DESCRIPTION OF SILESIA. 321
pictures itself to you as a plain, growing ever flatter, ever sandier,
as it abuts on the monotonous endless sand-flats of Poland and the
Brandenburg territories ; nothing but Boundary-Stones with their
brass inscriptions marking where the transition is, and only some
Fortified Town, not far off, keeping the door of the Country secure
in that quarter.
" On the other hand, the mountain part of Schlesien is very pic-
turesque ; not of Alpine height anywhere (the Schnee-Koppe itself
is under 5,000 feet), so that verdure and forest wood fail almost
nowhere among the Mountains, and multiplex industry, besung by
rushing torrents and the swift young rivers, nestles itself high up ;
and from wheat-husbandry, madder and maize husbandry, to dam-
ask-weaving, metallurgy, charcoal-burning, tar-distillery, Schle-
sien has many trades, and has long been expert and busy at them
to a high degree. A very pretty Ellipsis, or irregular Oval, on the
summit of the European Continent, ' like the palm of a left hand
well stretched out, with the Riesengebirge for thumb ! ' said a cer-
tain Herr to me, stretching out his arm in that fashion towards the
north-west — Palm well stretched-out, measuring 250 miles, and the
cross way, 100. There are still beavers in Schlesien ; the Katzbach
Eiver has gold grains in it, a kind of Pactolus not now worth work-
ing ; and in the scraggy lonesome pine woods, grimy individuals, with
kindled mounds of pine branches and smoke carefully kept down
by sods, are sweating out a substance which they inform you is to
be tar."
Extract X. — An extract from Robertson's Charles V. will
afford examples of the rules of Narrative composition.
1. " While the Christian princes were thus wasting each other's
" strength [reference, by summary, to what went before], Solyman
" the Magnificent entered Hungary with a (numerous) 'large' army,
"and investing Belgrade, which was deemed the chief barrier
" of that kingdom against the Turkish arms [explanatory clause in-
" terwoven with the narrative], soon forced it to surrender." There
are here three separate facts, in sufficiently close connection to be
included in one sentence. The structure of the sentence is in every,
way excellent. The participial phrase ' investing Belgrade ' con-
tributes to the elegance, and aids in the periodic structure.
2. " Encouraged by (this) ' his ' success [demonstrative refer-
" ence, p. 147], he turned his victorious [epithet giving strength
" from suitability to the fact] arms against the island of Rhodes,
14*
322 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. X.
" the seat, at that time, of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem."
A well-turned sentence. The participial form is employed to begin
the sentence ; there is only one fact stated, room being wanted for
the concluding explanation.
3. " This small state [reference by demonstrative phrase, com-
" bined with inversion] he attacked with such a numerous army as
" the lords of Asia have been accustomed, in every age, to bring
" into the field." This sentence serves only to intimate the general
fact that the conquerors of Asia were able to muster enormous ar-
mies ; which is a mere ' aside ' in the present narrative. That
Solyman attacked Ehodes was sufficiently stated by the words
' turned his victorious arms ; ' and the size of the army was given
before by the same adjective ' numerous,' and is to be given again
in exact numbers.
4. " Two hundred thousand men, and a fleet of 400 sail, appeared
" against a town defended by a garrison consisting of 5000 soldiers,
" and 600 knights, [here he makes a stealthy transition] under the
" command of Yilliers de L'Isle Adam, the grand master, whose
" wisdom and valor rendered him worthy of that station at such a
" dangerous juncture." The first statement of this sentence might
have filled up the emptiness of the preceding one : — u He brought
a force of 200,000 men and 400 sail against the town." The most
notable defect, however, is the passing over from the attack to the
defence without stop or break (p. 171). A new paragraph should
have been devoted to the operations of the besieged, thus : — " The
town was defended by a garrison of 5000 soldiers, and 600 knights ;
the commander was Villiers de L'Isle Adam, the grand master,
whose wisdom and valor," &c.
5. "No sooner did he begin to suspect the destination of Soly-
" man's vast armaments, than he despatched messengers to all the
" Christian courts, imploring their aid against the common enemy."
In 'he,' the reference is not to the principal clause of the preceding
sentence, but to the subordinate clause at the end ; another reason
for the division of that sentence. The concluding phrase, ' the com-
mon enemy,' is a good example of varying an expression (p. 95),
with an apparent reason besides the mere variety. Solyman, for the
purpose of the sentence, was the common enemy.
6. " But though every prince in that age acknowledged Ehodes
" to be the great bulwark of Christendom in the East, and trusted
" to the gallantry of its knights as the best security against the
"(progress of the) Ottoman arms; though Adrian, with a zeal
EX. X.] NARRATIVE EXTRACT FROM ROBERTSON. 323
M (which became) ' becoming ' the head and father of the church,
" exhorted the contending powers to forget their private quarrels,
" and, by uniting their arms, to prevent the infidels from destroying
" a society (which) ' that ' did honor to the Christian name ; yet so
"violent and implacable was the animosity of both parties, that,
" regardless of the clanger to (which they exposed) all Europe, and
" unmoved by the entreaties of the grand master or the admonitions
" of the pope, they suffered Solyman to carry on, ' unmolested,' his
" operations against Rhodes (without disturbance)." A good exam-
ple of a period, formed by placing qualifying clauses before what
they qualify. As narrative, it is a sentence of explanation, inter-
rupting the main action by collateral circumstances bearing upon it.
The next sentence resumes the thread.
7. " The grand master, after incredible efforts of courage, of
" (patience) ' endurance,' and of military conduct, during a siege of
" six months, after sustaining many assaults, and disputing every
"post with (amazing) obstinacy, (was obliged) 'had' at last to
" yield to numbers ; and having obtained an honorable capitulation
" from the sultan, who admired (and respected) his virtue, he sur-
" rendered the town, (which was) reduced ' as it was ' to a heap
" of rubbish, and (destitute of every resource) ' in a state of utter
"destitution.' " The subject 'grand master,' need not have been
separated from its verb : — " After incredible efforts . . . after
sustaining . . . the grand master had at last to yield to num-
bers ; obtaining an honorable capitulation from the sultan, who ad-
mired his virtue, he surrendered the ruined and destitute town."
8. " Charles and Francis, ashamed of (having occasioned) ' occa-
" sioning ' such a loss to Christendom by their ambitious contests,
" (endeavored to throw) ' threw ' the blame of it on each other ;
" (while) all Europe, with greater justice, (imputed it equally to)
" ' threw it on ' both." A good specimen of the narrative sen-
tence, as containing a distinct action, although made up of several
parts.
9. "(The emperor) ' Charles,' by way of reparation, granted the
"Knights of St. John the small island of Malta, in which they fixed
" their residence, retaining, though with less power and splendor,
" their ancient spirit and implacable enmity to the infidels."
Shorter : — " By way of reparation, Charles granted the Knights of
St. John, for residence, the island of Malta, where, in diminished
power and splendor, they retained their ancient spirit and implaca-
ble enmity to the infidels."
324 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XL
Extract XI. — The present extract from Hobbes, and the four
that follow, will be examined chiefly with a view to Exposition.
The rules of the sentence, and of the paragraph, will also be attend-
ed to.
1. " There is a passion that hath no name ; but the sign of it is
" that distortion of the countenance which we call laughter, which
"is always joy ; but what joy, what we think and wherein we tri-
" umph when we laugh, is not hitherto declared by any." An
awkward and cumbrous sentence, although intelligible enough.
' There is a passion that hath no name,' might be ' a passion with-
out a name ; ' the emphasis in ' hath no name ' is too strong for the
occasion. In the next member ' but the sign of it,' ' but ' is not the
proper conjunction. Amend the whole thus : — " The outward sign
of it is that distortion of the countenance called laughter, which is
always an expression of joy." The concluding member is forcibly
put ; we might, however, modify it slightly : — " but what joy, what
we think of, and what we exult in, when we laugh, has yet to be
determined." The first member might have been made a distinct
sentence.
2. " That it consisteth in wit, or, as they call it, in the jest, ex-
" perience confuteth ; (for) men laugh at mischances and indecen-
" cies, wherein there lieth no wit nor jest at all." An inversion of
the same nature as in the last member of the previous sentence, yet
not absolutely necessary. The author's plan is to state and refute
the usual explanations before putting forward his own; but he
should have disentangled the two operations more completely than
he has done; each should have been distinctly announced and
handled in a paragraph, or a series of paragraphs, apart. • We give
an amended version of the sentence. " It is said to consist in wit,
or jest, but this is not in accordance with experience; men laugh at
mischances and indecencies, in which there is neither wit nor jest."
The last member might also be turned thus :— " there is neither wit
nor jest in mischances and indecencies, and yet men laugh at these."
The form 'men laugh ' is somewhat antiquated, but ought to be re-
tained, as one of the forms of announcing truths of human nature
from an objective side; the other forms are 'we laugh,' 'a person
laughs,' 'one laughs,' 'people laugh,' ' there is a disposition Jo
laugh' (subjective).
3. "And forasmuch as the same thing is no (more) 'longer'
" ridiculous when it groweth stale or usual, whatsoever it be that
" moveth laughter, it must be new (and) ' or ' unexpected." This
EX. XI.] EXPOSITION. HOBBES. 325
sentence begins the author's own method of approaching the in-
quiry, namely, by an inductive process, and should not have been
joined, by a cumulative conjunction, to the preceding. He would
have done well to start a new paragraph, thus : — " Let us now ex-
amine the various occasions of laughter. In the first place, anything
stale or common, ceases to be ludicrous; in other words, what
causes laughter must be new or unexpected."
4. " Men laugh often (especially such as are greedy of applause
"from everything they do well) at their own actions performed
" never so little beyond their own expectations ; as also at their
" own jests; and in this case it is manifest that the passion of laugh-
" ter proceedeth from a sudden conception of some ability in him-
" self that laugheth. 1 ' He now comes to the gist of his own theory,
and should have given a decided intimation to that effect. " The
essential circumstance, however, in the production of laughter is
found in such facts as these. Men laugh (the more so, if they are
greedy of applause) at everything they do well ; at their own ac-
tions, &c. ; in all which cases, it is apparent that the laughter pro-
ceeds from a sudden conception of some ability in the laugher's own
self."
5. " Also, men laugh at the infirmities of others, by comparison
" wherewith their own abilities are set off and illustrated." An ad-
ditional fact in favor of the inductive inference of the previous
sentence.
6. " Also, men laugh at jests, the wit whereof always consisteth
w in the elegant discovering and conveying to our minds some ab-
" surdity of another ' man ' ; and in this case also the (passion of
u laughter) ' laugh ' proceedeth from the sudden imagination of our
" own (odds and) eminency ; for what is else the recommending of
"ourselves to our own good opinion, by comparison with another
" man's infirmity or absurdity ? " Might be amended thus :— " Far-
ther, men laugh at jests. Now the wit of a jest always consists
in elegantly suggesting some absurdity in another person ; in which
case also, the laugh proceedeth from a sudden perception of our
own superiority ; for what is the effect of comparing ourselves with
another man's infirmity or absurdity, but to raise our estimate of
self?"
7. " For when a jest is broken upon ourselves, or friends, of
"whose dishonor we participate, we never laugh thereat." A con-
firming fact from the obverse side, the situation wherein, instead
of laughing, we are laughed at. The arrangement is imperfect.
326 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XI.
" On the other hand [or obversely], we never langh at a jest broken
upon ourselves, or upon our friends, in whose dishonor we partici-
pate." This restores the parallel construction.
8. "I may therefore conclude, that the passion of laughter is
"nothing (else) but sudden glory arising from a sudden conception
" of some eminency in ourselves, by comparison with the infirmity
" of others, or with our own formerly ; for men laugh at the follies
" of themselves past, when they come suddenly to remembrance,
" except they bring with them (any) present dishonor." This is
the summing up of the facts in the general doctrine, which, how-
ever, was announced in connection with the first instance adduced.
It must, therefore, be held as an allowable, or even commendable,
iteration of the doctrine, after all the facts have been given. We
must remark a serious dislocation in the way that the last member
comes in. The expression ' or with our own formerly ' is an after-
thought ; it was not present to the author's mind when he started,
or throughout the detail; and he has not taken the pains to go
back and embody it in the previous exposition. The new fact
should have found its place among the other facts, the principle
being qualified so as to admit it.
9. "It is no wonder, therefore, that men take heinously to be
"laughed at or derided; that is, triumphed over." In the scheme
of Exposition, this would be called an application of the principle,
and might have been expanded in a separate paragraph. Accepted
as a passing remark, it may be put thus : — " No wonder men take
offence at being derided, that is, triumphed over."
10. " Laughing without offence, must be at absurdities and in-
" firmities abstracted from persons, and when all the company may
" laugh together ; for laughing to one's self putteth all the rest into
jealousy and examination of themselves." A new and difficult as-
pect of the subject (Humor), demanding an examination apart. A
serious defect attaches to the present arrangement of the sentence.
The second member, instead of qualifying the main subject of the
first member, qualifies only a subordinate clause (' when all the
company may laugh together '). The remedy for this is to con-
stitute three distinct sentences. " Laughing without offence must
be in such circumstances as these. It must be at absurdities and
infirmities apart from persons. And farther, it must be when all
the company may laugh together ; for laughing to one's self putteth
all the rest into jealousy and examination of themselves."
11. " Besides, it is vain glory, and (an argument of little worth)
EX. XH.] DKYDEN ON SHAKESPEARE. 327
'"argues a little mind,' to think the infirmity of another sufficient
" matter for (his) triumph." This sentence seems connected with
the first of the two modes of laughing without offence, — 'at ab-
surdities and infirmities apart from persons,' — although completely
dislocated from it. It is unnecessary to take the trouble of restor-
ing the connection.
Extract XII. — The next extract is Dryden's criticisms of
Shakespeare and Ben Jonson.
1. "To begin, then, with Shakespeare; he was the man, who,
" of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and
"most comprehensive soul. 1 ' A full stop should have followed
Shakespeare. The other member needs amendment. "He was
the man that of all modern poets, perhaps of all poets, ancient and
modern, had the largest and most comprehensive soul [mind, intel-
lect?]." The first of these two sentences propounds the subject;
the second announces what is evidently the leading predicate, or
general view that the author takes of Shakespeare's intellect.
2. "All the images of nature were still present to him, and he
"drew them, not laboriously but luckily ; when he describes any-
thing, you more than see it, you feel it (too)." A place of promi-
nence should be given to ' the images of nature,' but it should be
the place of the predicate and not of the subject. We might say :
— " There were (still) ' ever ' present to him all the images of na-
ture," &c. The second member exemplifies the absence of the con-
junction from clauses of explanation. (Sentence, § 156.)
3. " Those who accuse him to have wanted learning, give him
" the greater commendation ; he was naturally learned ; he needed
"not the spectacles of books to read nature; he looked inwards
"and found her there." The first member should be a sentence
apart. The prominence of the subject is overlaid by ' those who
accuse ; ' better perhaps say :— " To accuse him of wanting learn-
ing is to give him greater commendation." The remaining members
will constitute a new sentence, explanatory of the other, and not
needing a conjunction. " He was learned by birthright ; he needed
not to read nature through the spectacles of books ; he saw her by
direct vision." The occurrence of ' nature ' in two senses is objec-
tionable.
4. " I cannot say he is everywhere alike ; were he so, I should
" do him injury to compare him with the greatest of mankind."
The phrase, ' I cannot say,' scarcely interferes with the prominence
of the chief subject.
328 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XII.
5. " He is (many times) ' often ' flat, insipid ; his comic wit de-
" generating into clenches, his serious swelling into bombast." The
second member explains or amplifies the first, and the participial
construction is an elegance.
6. "But he is always great, when some great occasion is pre-
sented to him." "But he is always great, on great occasions."
"But on great occasions, he is always great."
With the few slight amendments above suggested, the laws of
the paragraph are here fully complied with. Also, the succession
of particulars is in the main orderly, which cannot be said of the
next passage.
1. "As for Jonson, to whose character I (am) 'have' now ar-
" rived, if we look upon him whilst he was himself— for his last
"plays were (but) his dotages— I think him the most learned and
"judicious writer (which) ' that ' any theatre ever had." Although
a little cumbrous, this sentence is unobjectionable in arrangement.
The principal subject of the paragraph is in the place of prominence
at the beginning, and the principal predicate at the end. " As for
Jonson, who comes next," would have been a simpler commence-
ment. The two epithets 'learned ' and 'judicious' are intended as
the comprehensive designations, to be unfolded in detail. It will
be seen, however, that he begins the detail with what refers to
'judicious.'
2. " He was a most severe judge of himself as well as others."
" He judged both himself and others very severely."
3. 4. " One cannot say he wanted wit, but rather that he was
"frugal of it. In his works you find little to retrench or alter."
The order of these two sentences ought to be reversed. "In his
works you find little to retrench or alter. "Without being devoid
of wit, he was frugal of it."
5. "Wit and language, and humor also in some measure, we
"had before him ; but something of art was wanting to the drama
"till he came." The principal subject is supplanted needlessly.
"Before. him, we had wit and language and some measure of lmmor
also; but, until he came, there was a want of art."
6. "He managed his strength to more advantage than any (who)
" ' that ' preceded him : " — " than any of his predecessors." A suit-
able remark in further illustration of his judiciousness.
7. " You seldom find him making love in any of his scenes, or
" endeavoring to move the passions ; his genius was too sullen and
" saturnine to do (it) ' either ' gracefully, especially when he knew
EX. Xn.] DEYDEN ON BEN JONSON. 329
" that he came after those who had performed "both to such a
"height." This remark belongs to a distinct feature of Jonson
not included either in his learning or in his judgment; it is proper-
ly his genius, as distinct from either of those qualities, and deserves
to he specified, and handled by itself. The next sentence also bears
upon it, after which the author passes to Jonson's learning.
8. " Humor was his proper sphere, and in that he delighted most
"to represent mechanic people." "His proper sphere was Humor;
and his delight was to represent artisans."
9. " He was deeply conversant in the ancients, both Greek and
"Latin, and he borrowed boldly from them; there is scarce a poet
" or historian among the Roman authors of (those times) ' antiqui-
ty' whom he has not translated in Sejanus and Catiline." A
sentence with two members ; the second a specifying iteration of
the first (p. 136).
10. 11. "But he has done his robberies (so) openly, 'so' that
" one may see he fears not to be taxed by any law. He invades
"authors like a monarch; (and) what would be theft in other
"poets, is only victory in him." These two sentences are an
agreeable play upon Jonson's peculiarity, being the kind of style
whereby criticism becomes itself Fine Art. The last member ad-
mits of another arrangement to preserve the parallelism, and to in-
crease the closing emphasis : — " what in other poets would be theft,
is in him victory."
12. "With the spoils of these writers he so represented old
" Eome to us, in its rites, (ceremonies,) and customs, that if one of
" their poets had written either of his tragedies, we had seen less
" of it, than in him." He deviates once more to the consideration
of his genius. The sentence is not well poised. Various ways of
improving it might be suggested. Under protest against the man-
ner of bringing in the subject, we may express his meaning thus:
— " No one of Rome's own poets, writing his tragedies, could have
so thoroughly represented the Roman rites and customs as he has
done."
13. "If there was any fault in his language, 'twas that he
" weaved it too closely and laboriously, in his comedies especially ;
"perhaps, too, he did a little too much Romanize our tongue,
" leaving the words which he translated, almost as much Latin as
"he found them; wherein, though he learnedly followed their lan-
" guage, he did not enough comply with the idiom of ours." This
would come under the head of his judgment, or else form a distinct
330 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. Xn.
theme, the consideration of his diction. It is brought in upon no
principle of arrangement, hut merely on a casual association with
his following ancient authors, and choosiug ancient subjects. The
sentence is loose to an excessive degree. There is matter for two
sentences.
14. "If I would compare him with Shakespeare, I must ac-
" knowledge him the (more correct) ' correcter ' poet, but Shakes-
"peare the greater wit." A perfect balance.
15. " Shakespeare was the Homer, or father of our dramatic
"poets; Jon son was the Virgil, the pattern of elaborate writing;
" I admire him, but I love Shakespeare." The change of order
here, in so simple and obvious a comparison, does little harm ; it
was probably necessary to cite Homer before Virgil. Equally ad-
missible is the inversion in the concluding member, although the
parallelism might still have been adhered to, without disagreeable
monotony. " He raises admiration ; Shakespeare inspires love."
(Exposition, § 65.)
The greatest fault of the passage is the dislocation of the topics.
The force of the writing would be in no degree impaired by ob-
serving a strict method in laying out and illustrating the attributes
commented on ; while the reader's power of comprehending and
remembering the criticism would be most materially enhanced.
Extract X1TL — The next Expository Extract is from a short
Essay, by Mr. Samuel Bailey, on "Some points connected with
Education." It expounds certain doctrines, chiefly with a view to
practical applications (p. 207). It also exhibits the case in which a
principle is unavoidably burdened with qualifying clauses.
1. " Children without any design imitate the language, the tone,
"the pronunciation, the looks, the gestures, the gait, the move-
" ments in general of those (with whom they live) ' they live with ; '
" and if the imitation be continued sufficiently long, no efforts in
"after-life can overcome the effects of it, the flexibility, or docility,
"so to speak, of the tissues or organs concerned seeming to di-
"minish rapidly with the approach to maturity, or the cessation of
" growth." As the enunciation of a principle, this appears a long
and burdensome statement ; when examined, however, it is seen to
contain the principle (undesigned imitation), a series of examples
(imitation in tone, &c), and a consequence or application. The
principle is, as it were, at once embodied in its leading examples.
This mode is adapted to a practical treatise. If the intention had
EX. HE.] EXPOSITION BY APPLICATIONS. 331
been more purely theoretical, the proposition would have been
stated in general language, and the examples dwelt upon in detail.
The author might have made a semicolon pause after ' overcome the
effects of it ; ' what follows * the flexibility, or docility, so to speak,
of the tissues,' &c— would then be a participial member containing
a reason or explanation.
2. "This unintentional imitation [Demonstrative reference] is
" commonly mixed with (that which) ' what ' is designed ; and sep-
41 arate or together, they lead the child to a high degree of personal
" assimilation with those (who have the immediate charge of him,
" or in the midst of whom he grows up) ' that have the immediate
" charge of him [it?], or that he grows up among.' "
This adds another mode of imitation to what was previously
stated, with the view of making a conjoined total to be applied to
practice. In the subsequent exposition, the author keeps them for
a time separate, and then drops the second to confine himself to
the first. It is a somewhat trying operation to carry on the exposi-
tion of two principles together. The concluding clause — ' they lead
the child to a high degree of personal assimilation, &c.' — is a sum-
mary, or short iteration, of what goes before, and is the form in-
tended to be used in the subsequent applications to practice. In
this view, it might have been shortened with advantage (on Whate-
ly's principle, p. 194), or a shorter form might have been added, —
something aphoristic or epigrammatic. The next sentence begins
another short paragraph, devoted to distinguishing still more closely
the two kinds of imitation.
1. " Although we cannot always discriminate the effects of un-
44 intentional from those of intentional imitation, yet the predomi-
44 nance of either may in many cases be readily distinguished."
" Yet we may in many cases distinguish the predominance of one
or other."
2. " In the particulars (which I have) mentioned above [phrase
"of reference] unintentional imitation obviously prevails."
A new paragraph. 1. "The persistence of habits thus unde-
" signedly acquired, so as scarcely to be affected by lapse of time
" or change of circumstances, may be observed very plainly in na-
tional and 'in' provincial peculiarities, and is in nothing more re-
" markable than in speech." * A new aspect of the general princi-
* There is here a license often unavoidable— a verbal noun qualified by
an adverb, as if it were a verb—' persistence so as.'
332 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XTH.
pie is now propounded for exemplification, and is the aspect that
brings the author to his practical applications; namely, the irre-
sistible force of habits acquired by unintentional imitation. In
this seDtence, he states the examples generally, and in the following
sentences becomes more specific.
2, 3. "Every nation has modes of utterance impossible for the
"most part to be shaken off, and as impossible to be acquired by
" foreigners. A child brought up in Scotland till the age of seven
" or eight, will scarcely ever be able in after-life to get quit of the
"Scotch accent." The 'ever' in the phrase 'will scarcely ever be
able,' really qualifies the whole sentence, and ought in strictness to
be at the commencement : — " It scarcely ever happens, that a child
brought up in Scotland," &c.
The author now passes, in another paragraph, to a new phase
of the operation of the principle. 1. "In such cases, we sometimes
" see a sort of antagonism between intentional and unintentional
" imitation." Here he states the general doctrine ; in the next sen-
tence he repeats it in an embodied or concrete form.
2. "The mature man, in the desire to get quit of [vary the
" phrase, ' overcome '] a national or provincial peculiarity, attempts
" an imitation, in which he is prevented from succeeding by the
"lasting consequences of the unintentional imitation into which
"he had glided when a child."
3. " The same truth may be shown by (converse) ' obverse ' in-
" stances." He now proceeds to give examples of the difficulties
of the late learner.
4. " A German educated at home rarely learns to pronounce the
" th in the article the, nor does an Englishman, confined till man-
" hood to his own island and his own tongue, succeed better with
"the guttural in sich or tag."
Then follow his practical applications ; and by these, the author
farther elucidates the general principles. TVe quote only a, part.
" From these familiar facts, illustrating the irresistible tendency
" to personal assimilation and the durability of its effects, we may
"deduce the high importance of placing children with people who
"are easy, natural, and graceful in their deportment, who speak
"with correctness and purity, and are free from objectionable
" habits.
" No Dominie Sampsons should be permitted where it is possi-
" ble to exclude them. The once prevalent practice of committing
" children to the care of the lame, the deformed, the rough, the
EX. Xm.] EXPOSITION BY APPLICATIONS. 333
" uncouth, the ungainly, the rickety either in body or mind, is now
" indeed generally abandoned. It is becoming understood that an
" instructor is all the better for being a favorable specimen of his
" own race, even in physical qualities and accomplishments.
" As a rule, do not confide your children to any one whose
" habits, manners, speech, play of countenance, and deportment,
"you would not like them to imitate. It is doubtless extremely
" difficult to act on such a rule ; a compromise between welcome
" and unwelcome qualities is, in general, the only practicable re-
source."
It will now be seen what is the expository value of practical
applications of principles. It may also be seen, that, as exposition
is not the chief end in view, the practical writer does not confine
himself to following out any single principle, but introduces allu-
sions to every doctrine that he thinks has any bearing on his sub-
ject. It is not often that a practical discussion contains so much
clear elucidation of general principles, as is contained in the pres-
ent passage ; for, although the author lays down four or five dif-
ferent generalities, he provides a certain amount of methodical ex-
position for each.
Exteact XIV. — The following passage, from Macaulay's His-
tory, is an expository and moralizing episode, occurring after the
intimation that the Revolution was accomplished.
1. "It is the nature of man to overrate present evil, and to un-
" derrate present good ; to long for what he has not, and to be dis-
" satisfied with what he has." The announcement of a doctrine
of human nature, with obverse statement, iteration, and balanced
structure. The subject of the paragraph is thrown to the end of
the sentence (p. 133).
2, 3. " This propensity, as it appears in individuals, has often
" been noticed both by laughing and by weeping philosophers. It
" was a favorite theme of Horace and of Pascal, of Voltaire and of
" Johnson." These two sentences might, with propriety, be made
one ; the second is merely the specification of what, in the first, is
stated generally.
4. "To its influence on the fate of great communities may be
" ascribed most of the revolutions and counter-revolutions recorded
"in history." There is here another reason for joining the two
foregoing sentences; in the expression ' fate of great communities'
a balance lies with the phrase ' as it appears in individuals ' in sen-
334: EXTEACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XIV.
tence No. 2. Now an intervening sentence is an impediment to
the perception of the parallelism. The second sentence might have
started thus: — u As appearing in individuals, this propensity — ";
and the present sentence might have answered to the construc-
tion, — "As manifested in communities, to it may he ascribed — ".
5. " A hundred generations have passed away since the first
" great national emancipation, of which an account has come down
" to us." The last clause is a specimen of the disjointing effect of
our prevailing relative construction. The sentence is unnecessary ;
the parade of ' the hundred generations ' does not add to the force
of the passage ; still less should it have the prominence of the sub-
ject of a sentence.
6. " We read in the most ancient of books that a people bowed
" to the dust under a cruel yoke, scourged to toil by hard taskmas-
" ters, not supplied with straw, yet compelled to furnish the daily
" tale of bricks, became sick of life, and raised such a cry as pierced
" the heavens." A well-managed picture of distress. It passes the
limits of poetic pathos, to answer an oratorical purpose.
V. " The slaves were wonderfully set free ; at the moment of
" their liberation they raised a song of gratitude and triumph ; but,
" in a few hours, they began to regret their slavery, and to reproach
"the leader who decoyed them away from the savory fare of the
" house of bondage to the dreary waste which still separated them
" from the land of milk and honey." "Well-formed in every respect ;
the increasing length and growing impressiveness of the members,
together with the flowing cadence, are such as to realize Addison's
best ideal of a sentence.
8, 9. " Since that time the history of every great deliverer has
" been the history of Moses re-told. Down to the present time,
" rejoicings like those on the shore of the Red Sea have ever been
" speedily followed by rnurmurings, like those at the Waters of
" Strife." Excepting the gross exaggeration of historical facts,
nothing could be more happily expressed than these two sentences.
The balanced arrangement is perfect, and yet not painfully ob-
trusive.
10, 11. "The most just and salutary revolution must produce
" much suffering. The most just and salutary revolution cannot
" produce all the good that [not ' which ' for a wonder] had been
" expected from it by men of uninstructed minds and sanguine tem-
"pers." Exemplifies Macaulay's commendable defiance of the old
conventions against repeating the same words.
EX. XV.] CHAIN OF SEASONING. CAMPBELL. 335
12. " Even the wisest cannot, while it is still recent, weigh quite
"fairly the evils which it has caused against the evils which it
" has removed." But for the parallelism with the sentence follow-
ing, the burdensome relative ' which ' might have been omitted.
Even as it is, the participial form might be used ; ' the evils caused
by it,' ' the evils removed by it.'
13. "For the evils (which it has caused) ' caused by it ' are felt,
" and the evils (which it has removed) ' removed by it ' are felt no
" longer."
This passage comes under the popular and interesting exposition
of truths imperfectly defined, and therefore serviceable for rhetori-
cal effect (p. 133).
Extract XV. — A short extract is next given to show the nicety
required in stating a chain of reasoning (p. 210). It is from Camp-
bell's Rhetoric. He is discussing the circumstances instrumental
in operating on the passions.
" The first is probability, which is now considered only as an
" expedient for enlivening passion." The second clause is merely
to guard against supposing that probability is here considered in all
its bearings ; it would be better dispensed with, the complexity of
the exposition requiring the dismissal of all superfluous statements.
u Here again there is commonly scope for argument. Probabil-
" ity results from evidence, and begets belief. Belief invigorates
"our ideas. Belief raised to the highest becomes certainty. Cer-
" tainty flows either from the force of the evidence, real or appar-
" ent, that is produced ; or without any evidence produced by the
" speaker, from the previous notoriety of the fact. If the fact be
I notorious, it will not only be superfluous in the speaker to at-
" tempt to prove it [confusion of 'it-s'] but it will be pernicious to
"his design. The reason is plain. By proving, he supposeth it
"questionable, and by supposing, actually renders it so to his
" audience : he brings them from viewing it in the stronger light
" of certainty, to view it in the weaker light of probability : in lieu
" of sunshine he gives them twilight." Considerable study is re-
quisite to disentangle this train of argumentation. The reasoning
appears to return to itself. We at last discover the authors real
thesis to be, the importance of Belief, or Conviction, in making
people feel ; whence it is desirable to do whatever will give convic-
tion, and avoid whatever will shake it. If we have only probabil-
ity, we should nourish, and not impair, that probability. And with
336 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XVI.
this view, he indicates a nice stroke of management on the part of
a speaker, namely, not to disturb a settled conviction by adducing
reasons, since to do so implies that the point is unsettled.
Exteact XVI. — The following passage from Adam Smith shows
the Expository Method as applied to Moral Suasion. The theme is
one that the author has often and earnestly expounded, — the ac-
quiescence in irremediable misfortunes.
1. "In the misfortunes for which the nature of things admits, or
"seems to admit, of a remedy, but in which the means of applying
" that remedy are not within the reach of the sufferer, his vain
" (and fruitless) attempts to restore himself to his former situation,
" his continual anxiety for their success, his repeated disappoint-
" ments upon their miscarriage, are what chiefly hinder him from
" resuming his natural tranquillity, and frequently render miser-
"able, during the whole of (his) life, a man to whom a greater mis-
'• fortune, but which plainly admitted of no remedy, would not
"have given a fortnight's disturbance." Although composed on
an intelligible plan, this sentence is excessive in length, and admits
of retrenchment. It may be looked upon as stating and exempli-
fying a principle at the same time (Ex. XIII. Sent. 1). We have
next a series of interesting and impressive examples.
2. "In the fall from royal favor to disgrace, from power to in-
" significance from riches to poverty, from liberty to confinement,
" from strong health to lingering, chronical, and perhaps incurable
" disease, the man who struggles the least, who most easily and
" readily acquiesces in the fortune which has fallen to him, very
" soon recovers his usual and natural tranquillity, and surveys the
"disagreeable circumstances of his actual situation in the same
" light, or perhaps, in a much less unfavorable light, than that in
" which the most indifferent spectator is disposed to survey them."
The latter part of this sentence also is wordy and diffuse. The ex-
amples given are not yet sufficiently concrete for effect. Better are
to come.
3. "Faction, intrigue, and cabal, disturb the quiet of the unfor-
" tunate statesman." The parallel construction should now be at-
tended to. " The statesman, under misfortune, is disquieted by
faction, intrigue, and cabal."
4. " Extravagant projects, visions of gold mines, interrupt the
" repose of the ruined bankrupt." The author seems aware that
the placing of the principal subject at the close gives it an empha-
EX. XVI.] MOBAL SUASIOX. — ADAM SMITH. 337
sis. Still, we must continue to invert his order. " The ruined
bankrupt has his repose interrupted by extravagant projects, and
visions of gold mines."
5. " The prisoner, who is continually plotting to escape from
"(his) confinement, cannot enjoy that careless security which even
"a prison can afford him." Either by accident, or for variety, the
parallel order is here attended to. A more emphatic brevity is at-
tainable. " The prisoner, continually plotting to escape, misses the
satisfaction he might gain in the careless security of his prison."
6. " The medicines of the physician are often the greatest tor-
' ; ment of the incurable patient." "Under incurable disease, the
medicines of the physician tantalize and torment the patient."
7. " The monk who, in order to comfort Joanna of Castile, upon
" the death of her husband, Philip, told her of a king, who, fourteen
" years after his decease, had been restored to life (again), by the
" prayers of his afflicted queen, was not likely to restore sedateness
"to the distempered mind of that unhappy princess." A most
plausible period, yet radically disarranged. " Joanna of Castile,
driven to distraction by the death of her husband, Philip, was not
likely to have her mind quieted by the monk that told her of a king
restored to life, fourteen years after his decease, by the prayers of
his afflicted queen."
8. " She endeavored to repeat the (same) experiment in hopes
" of the same success ; resisted for a long time the burial of her hus-
" band, soon after raised his body from the grave, attended it al-
" most constantly herself, and watched, with all the impatient
" anxiety of frantic expectation, the happy moment when her wishes
" were to be gratified by the revival of her beloved Philip." This
incident is perhaps made too much of; the harrowing effect of it
on the reader is not favorable to the author's lesson of tranquillity
and contentment. This is a state of mind, to be nourished, through
the same precautions as courage, by not exposing the subject to the
opposite condition more than he can bear at the time. The sen-
tence might be improved by changing the first member to the par-
ticipial form. "Endeavoring to repeat the experiment," &c.
Excepting the mistake of giving too exclusively the cases of
persons failing to achieve contentment, the passage is a good in-
stance of expository persuasion by example. The style of the au-
thor, here and elsewhere, would be greatly improved, by mixture
with the short and balanced sentences of Macaulay.
15
338 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XVII.
Exteaot XVII. — In connection with Oratory, we quote the
celebrated Adjuration of Demosthenes, in the speech on the Crown ;
probably the greatest effort ever made to soothe and reconcile men
under calamity and defeat. Demosthenes had himself been the
chief adviser of strenuous resistance to Philip ; the resistance had
been unsuccessful, and yet he claimed honor for the intentions and
the exertions of those engaged in it.
" If I then undertook to say that it was I that brought you to
" entertain sentiments worthy of your ancestors, there is no man
" but could justly blame me. [Delicate insinuation ; he would be
u blamable if he claimed the credit of infusing patriotic sentiments;
" these existed independent of him.] I assert that such tendencies
" are your own ; I declare that before my time the Athenian State
" was thus minded. Yet I do say, that I too have had a share in
" the several transactions themselves. But this man (iEschines),
" by censuring everything, and urging you to bitterness against me
u as the author of the alarms and dangers of the State, seeks to rob
" me of my present honor, and deprives you of your everlasting
" fame. For if ye condemn Ktesiphon, on the ground that my pol-
icy has not been for the best, ye will then appear to have commit-
" ted error, and not merely to have suffered reverses by the unkind-
"ness of Fortune. But ye cannot, ye cannot have erred, O Athe-
" mans, in braving peril for the safety, the liberty of all. No ! By
"your ancestors who fronted danger at Marathon, and stood ar-
" rayed at Plataoa, by those who fought on sea at Salamis, and at
" Artemisium, and by the many other gallant men, lying interred in
" the public sepulchres ; whom all alike the city held worthy of
"honor and buried; and not alone the successful and the victors!
" With justice; since all did the work of brave men, though each
" had the fortune that the Deity assigned him." The orator has
here skilfully touched the most powerful chords in the minds of his
audience, and, trusting to the effects of hi3 address, has dared the
highest flight of figurative boldness.
Exteact XVIII. — The following lines from the "Pleasures of
Hope " exemplify the Poetic Figures and Qualities. I select for
notice the more important points.
"At summer's eve, when Heaven's aerial bow
Spans, with bright arch, the glittering hills below,
Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye,
Whose sun-bright summit mingles with the sky?"
ex. xvm.] Campbell's pleasures of hope. 339
These lines contain a description individualized by the point of
time given ( l at summer's eve '), and enlivened by circumstances of
action— ' spans with bright arch,' ' turns the musing eye,' 'mingles
with the sky.' The touches conveyed in ' bright arch,' ' glittering
hills,' ' sun-lright summit,' are graphically selected, and can be
easily realized; if there be anything to object to, it is the three-fold
iteration of the one idea of light.
" Why do those hills of shadowy tint appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near? "
Another graphic touch that does not require much labor of
comprehension. ' Shadowy tint ' is not very happy ; and ' sweet '
is scarcely the word. ■ Smiling near ' is mere filling up. The
rhyme falls upon insignificant words; a fault not always avoidable,
but worth remarking on, as a great effect may be attained by as-
signing the position of emphasis to something really emphatic.
" 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue."
The first line is a stroke of felicitous condensation ; the three
abstract nouns are vivified by a familiar and forcible verb ; the
melody is good ; and a sentiment is conveyed in a line. The suc-
ceeding line calls for no special remark.
" Thus, with delight, we linger to survey
The promis'd joys of life's unmeasured way; "
A good line might have been made out of these two, by omit-
ting the subjective designations, ' with, delight,' 'promis'd joys,'' and
combining the remaining figures.
" Thus, from afar, each dim-discovered scene
More pleasing seems than all the past hath been."
Space and time are here mixed in one figure, with a confusing
effect. The occasional lameness of rhyme could not be better
shown than by bringing under its emphasis such a word as ' been.'
"And every form that Fancy can repair
From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.'
Notwithstanding the profusion of abstract nouns, the language
is telling through action. The reference of the concluding word
1 there ' is not obvious.
" What potent spirit guides the raptur'd eye
To pierce the shades of dim futurity?"
The interrogation is suitably introduced; but the language is
340 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XVIII.
somewhat in excess; '■potent spirit,' ' raptured eye,' ' shades of dim
futurity.'
" Can Wisdom lend, with all her boasted power,
The pledge of Joy's anticipated hour?"
We have had ' lend ' already, and there are words more apt in
this connection. The language is otherwise unexceptionable ; and
the rhyme brings into prominence two important words. The
order of the sentence is good.
"Ah no ! she darkly sees the fate of man,
Her dim horizon bounded to a span; "
The first line is both simple and effective. The second iterates
4 darkly ' in ' dim ; ' the mixture of the two figures of darkness and
contraction is not favorable to a distinct conception; and the
word ' span,' made energetic by the rhyme, is not in keeping with
a contracting and vanishing effect ; it has already been used for the
wide compass of the rainbow.
"•Or, if she holds an image to the view,
'Tis Nature pictured too severely true."
The second line could hardly be improved. The rhyme gives
emphasis to a really emphatic word ; equally good, but not better,
would have been the ending ' truthfully severe.' The first line is
enfeebled by the weak complement of the verb — ' holds to the mew '
— receiving the place of honor and the stress of rhyme.
These last six lines afford a good example of Contrast; after
which the main theme is resumed with increased effect). Such
contrasts are matter of delicate handling in poetry. When they
are the painful obverse of a joyous subject, the principles of Art
require them to be kept within the narrowest limits. In Thom-
son's "Castle of Indolence," Book I., the poet introduces into his
picture of delicious quietism, a contrasting description of the
harshness of labor such as to damp the enjoyment of the scene,
while it can hardly be deemed requisite for the mass of readers, all
too familiar with the subject. The present contrast of Campbell's
is not too painful, nor too protracted, to be redeemed, and more
than redeemed, by the heightened glow of the main subject.
"With thee, sweet Hope, resides the heavenly light,
That pours remotest rapture on the sight; "
The adjective ' sweet ' adds no force to the line, whose language
otherwise is apt, and its arrangement perfect. In spite of the
ex. xviil] Campbell's pleasures of hope. 341
drawbacks of alliteration and abruptness of sound, the combination
'remotest rapture' is energetically concise; the conciseness and
originality pass off the noun, although a word so easily lending it-
self to sentimental inflation. The place of emphasis is not filled
by an unimportant phrase.
" Thine is the charm of life's bewildered way,
That calls each slumbering passion into play.'
The first line is admirable in every respect. The participial ad-
jective construction 'bewildered way,' is here set off by the choice
of the strongest and aptest epithet. The second line by no means
supports the first. The figure is departed from, and another intro-
duced having only a loose connection. ' Slumbering passion ' is not
very original ; ' calling into play ' is not very poetical, nor in special
harmony of figure ; and the complement ' into play ' is still less
adapted to the closing place.
"We give now the splendidly soaring climax : —
" Eternal Hope ! when yonder spheres sublime
Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of Time,
Thy joyous youth began — but not to fade."
Notice first the grammar shaped to the period. The invocation
contains nothing more than aptness to the subject, which can al-
ways redeem the triteness of the phraseology. A fine coherent
figure is then worked up (the sphere-music being allowed for the
occasion), from the vocabulary of the highest sublime.
"When all the sister planets have decayed ; 1
When wrapt in fire the realms of ether glow,
And heaven's last thunder shakes the world below ;
Thou, undismayed, shalt o'er the ruins smile,
And light thy torch at Nature's funeral pile ! "
Exteact XIX. — "We give a portion of Coleridge's Mont Blanc, to
be studied for the various arts involved in the poetic rendering of
Nature.
" Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star
In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause
On thy bald awful head, sovran Blanc !
The Arve and Arveiron at thy base
Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful form !
Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines,
How silently ! Around thee and above,
Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black,
342 EXTRACTS ANALYZED. [EX. XX. XXI,
An ebon mass ; methinks thou piercest it,
As with a wedge ! But when I look again,
It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine,
Thy habitation from eternity !
dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee,
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense,
Didst vanish from my thought ; entranced in prayer,
1 worshipped the invisible alone."
Extract XX. — It is interesting now to compare with still-life
Description, at its utmost sublimity, the greater impressiveness of
action. The passage is Byron's Thunderstorm.
" The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! night,
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light
Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live thunder ! not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,
And Jura answers, through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud !
" And this is in the night ; — most glorious night !
Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, —
A portion of the tempest and of thee !
How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea,
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth !
And now again 'tis black, — and now the glee
Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain mirth, I
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth."
Exteact XXI. — Dyer's " Grongar Hill" is reckoned one of the
best Descriptive poems of the language. A very few lines will
show how indispensable activity, real or fictitious, is to a good
poetical description.
"Now I gain the mountain's brow,
What a landscape lies below !
No clouds, no vapors intervene,
But the gay, the open scene,
Does the face of Nature show,
In all the hues of heaven's bow ;
And, swelling to embrace the light,
Spreads around beneath the sight.
Old castles on the cliffs arise,
EX. XXH.J POETICAL DESCRIPTIONS. 343
Proudly towering in the skies !
Rushing from the woods, the spires
Seem from hence ascending fires !
Half his beams Apollo sheds
On the yellow mountain heads ;
Gilds the fleeces of the flocks,
And glitters on the broken rocks ! "
Extract XXII. — The following passage from the " Seasons "
will serve to illustrate the Ideal in Poetry. It is the lasting ideal
subject — the Golden Age.
"The first fresh dawn then wak'd the gladden' d race
Of uncorrupted man, nor blush' d to see
The sluggard sleep beneath its sacred beam ;
For their light slumbers gently fum'd away ;
And up they rose as vig'rous as the sun,
Or to the culture of the willing glebe,
Or to the cheerful tendance of the flock.
Meantime the song went round ; and dance and sport,
"Wisdom and friendly talk, successive, stole
Their hours away ; while in the rosy vale
Love breath' d his infant sighs, from anguish free,
And full replete with bliss ; save the sweet pain,
That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more.
Nor yet injurious act, nor surly deed,
"Was known among those happy sons of Heav'n;
For reason and benevolence were law.
Harmonious Nature too look'd smiling on ;
Clear shone the skies, cool'd with eternal gales,
And balmy spirit all. The youthful sun
Shot his best rays, and still the gracious clouds
Dropp'd fatness down ; as o'er the swelling mead,
The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd secure."
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