< il h'r ( )K SAMPLE COPY, Cello GO'S Rhetoric. PRICE. O r- Introduction, -___-,». 05 ets, Arance for old book in use of similar grade, when ven in exchange, - - - - - - - 20 cts. ^ok$ ordered for introduction will be delivered at above named prices / part of the United States. Sample copies for examination, with a introduction, will he sent hy mail to teacher* or school officers on t of the introduction price. Address, Clark & Maynard, 5 Barclay St., New York. (P. O. Bos 1619.) A bfTEXT-BOOK ON RHETORIC, SUPPLEMENTING THE Developnie7it of the Science with Exhaustive Practice in Composition, A Course of Practical Lessons adapted for Use in High-Schools and Academies and in the Lower Classes of Colleges, f^,^ ((UNI7ERSIT7! BY *^ ^ • BRAINERD KELLOGG, A.M^^ Professor of the English Language and Literature in the Brooklyn Collegiate and Polytechnic Institute^ and one of the A uthors of Reed b' Kellogg s ''''Graded Lessons in English'" and ''''Higher Lessons in English,^'' NEW YORK: CLARK & MAYNARD, Publishers, 5 Barclay Street. i88o. Language Lessons; Grammar— Composition, A COMPLETE COURSE IN TWO BOOKS ONLY. THE BEST AND THE CHEAPEST. 7. GRADED LESSONS IN ENGLISH: An Elementary English Grammar, consisting of One Hundred Practical Lessons, carefully graded and adapted to the class- room. i6o pages, i6mo. Bound in linen. //. HIGHER LESSONS IN ENGLISH: A Work on English Grammar and Composition, in which the science of the language is made tributary to the art of expression. A course of Practical Lessons, carefully graded, and adapted to every- day use in the school-room. 280 pages, i6mo. Bound in cloth. BY ALONZO REED, A.M., & BRAINERD KELLOGG, A.M., Instructor in English Grammar in the Professor of English Language and Brooklyn Collegiate and Polytechnic Literature iti the Brooklyn Collegi- Institute. ate and Polytechnic Institute. The two books completely cover the ground of Grammar and Composition, from the time the scholar usually begins the study of grammar until it is finished in the High-School or Academy. Copyright, 1880, by BRAINERD KELLOGG. PREFACE. The delightful Portia, in the " Merchant of Venice," says, " If / a? L H W RHETORIC. I Construction of Simple and Compound Sentences, and of Complex Sentences with Adj., Adv., or Noun Clauses, and with Clauses Complex or Compound. II. Forming of Paragraphs. III. Analysis of Subjects. IV. Preparation of Frameworks, I. Mastery of the Subject. 'a. Simple. I. Perspicuity (Depends on) . , 2. Use of Words. * b. Precise, c. Unambiguous, d. Repu- table, National, and Pres- ent, e. Moderate Num- ber, f. Sufficient Number. 3. Arrangement of Words, Phrases, and Clauses. 4. Unity of the Sentence. II. Imagery. III. Energy (Secured by) fi. The Comparison, or Simile. 2. The Meta- phor. 3. Personification. 4. Antithesis. 5. The Metonymy. 6. The Synecdoche. fi. Specific Words. 2. Transposed Order of Words and Phrases. 3. Omission of Words. 4. Idioms, Proverbs, and apt Quotations. 5. The Climax. 6. The Period. 7. Variety. I. Satire. 2. Sarcasm. 5. Humor. 3. Ridicule. 4. Irony. IV. Wit V. Pathos. VI. Elegance j i. Beauty of the Thought. 2. Euphony. 3. Alllt- '\ (Secured by).... I eration. 4. Flowing Sentences. 5. Rhythm. Contents, II I. Prose..., te Iz; o l-H H o n o II. Poetry. I. Oral. a. Conversation, b. Debates, c. Orations, d. Speeches, e. Lec- I tures and Addresses. /. Pleas. 1^ h. Sermons. !a. Treatises. b. Histories. c. Travels, d. Letters, e. Biog- raphies. /. Essays. 2. Written. 1. Mission. 2. Style. ia. Rhythm. b. Metre. c. Rhyme. 4. Kinds of. \ Didactic. Satirical. Lyric, -t S^'^''^^- ' Secular. Pastoral. 1/ Drlmatic.-j Comedy. ( Tragedy. d. RHETORIC. LESSON 1. INTRODUCTORY. What Rhetoric is,— We talk and we write to make known our thoughts, and we do it in sentences, the sen- tence being the universal and necessary form of oral and of written communication. In every sentence there are the words arranged in a certain order and addressed to the ear or to the eye ; and there is that which these words express and impart, itself unheard and unseen, but reaching the mind of the hearer or reader through the words which he hears or sees. That which these words express we call a thought, and hence A sentence is the verbal expression of a thought. Now, rhetoric deals with the thought of the sentence and with the words which express it, and so its function is twofold. It teaches us how to find the thought, and how best to express it in words. In this, its twofold function, rhetoric works near neighbor to grammar and to logic. Grammar, as well as rhetoric, deals with the words of a sentence; and logic, as well as rhetoric, deals with thought ; but the fields of the three, though lying side by side, are distinct. The better to see the field which rhetoric tills, it is 1 4 Introductory. needful, without attempting complete definitions, to say that grammar teaches us the offices of single words in the sentence, and of those groups of words called phrases and clauses, and shows us what forms the in- flected words must have in their various relations. It teaches, also, how to construct correct sentences contain- ing the parts of speech in their several relations. Logic deals with thought, but not with the thought in single and detached sentences. It does not decide whether this thought and that thought are true, but what conclusion follows from them if we assume them to be true. It teaches us to reason correctly, to make right inferences, to draw just conclusions. In what rhetoric has to do with words^ it begins its work where that of grammar ends. It teaches us how in the choice and arrangement of words to express the thought clearly or forcibly or gracefully — in a word, how to express it most happily for the special purpose in hand. And teaching us to find the thought with which we reason, its work with the thought ends where that of logic begins. Rhetoric, then, lies in between grammar and logic. The ivo7-d side of its field touches the field of grammar, the thought side of it touches the field of logic, and hence Rhetoric is the study which teaches us how to invent thought, and how to express it most appropriately in words. What the Word Rhetoric Means. — We have seen what the thing is; look now at its name. The word rhet- oric comes originally from a Greek verb which means to flo7v or to speak. Were we to name the study now, it is possible that we should take some word which means to write. But rhetoric was studied before writing be- came general, and ages and ages before printing was in- Introductory, 1 5 vented. Men spoke long before they wrote, because speaking was easy. The air, the lungs, and the organs of the throat and mouth were ready and waiting to be used. Writing was at first impossible, and for a long while difficult after it became possible. There were needed (i) an alphabet, and (2) something upon which to write. Letters, characters which would represent to the eye the sounds which the voice addressed to the ear, had to be invented. And that this was not an easy task is shown by the fact that even to-day we have not in Eng- lish a perfect alphabet ; some of the twenty-six letters standing each for many sounds, some having no sounds belonging exclusively to them, and some combinations of letters being used to represent single sounds. That it was hard to find a suitable substance on which to write, a few words attest. From parchment we learn that the cleansed and dried skins of sheep, hares, goats, and calves were used, and from palimpsest^ that removing the writing, so that the skin could be used again, became a business ; from paper, that the thin, cohesive layers of the stem of the papyrus, an Egyptian plant, served as a material ; from ostracism and petalism, that in voting at Athens to banish a citizen, a clay tile or a shell was used, and at Syracuse an olive-leaf ; from style, that sur- faces smeared with wax were prepared ; from liber and library, that the bark of trees, and from book, that beechen tablets were resorted to. Publication, then, among the Greeks and Romans, was by the voice — De Quincey says the voice of the actor, and that of the speaker on the bema, or platform. This must largely have determined (i) what kind of literature should be cultivated, and (2) the style in which this should be composed. In the main that was written 1 6 Introductory. which could be recited or spoken, and it was written so that it could be appreciated by the listener. To this noteworthy fact modern literature is signally indebted. Its lawgivers in Europe and America are those whose style was purified and perfected by the study of the great models which Athens and Rome furnished, or by the study of those writers who had made these their models. It is much for us that these models were themselves shaped by the necessity of oral communication. They were to be addressed to the ear and not to the eye ; their mean- ing and merit caught by the hearer as the speaker hurried on from sentence to sentence. Such discourse must have had, and did have, the great and essential qualities of style — simplicity, clearness, directness, and vigor. The writer who is accustomed to speaking, and who brings his sentences to this test, is the one most likely to learn the secret of expression, the art of " putting things." And this leads us to speak of Usage as Authority in Rhetoric. — There is no reason, in the nature of things, why an English noun in the nomi- native plural should always have its verb in the plural — the Greek noun in the neuter did not ; or why English words should be spelled and accented and pronounced as they now are — they have not always been. The reason why these things are as they are is, that the people who use the language have agreed that they should be so, and not otherwise. The grammar and the dictionary of to-day are full of truths which have not always been truths, and will not always be ; in other words, their truths are not,. like those of mathematics, unchangeable. They are conventional, depend upon consent ; are true as long as that consent is given ; cease to be true when that consent is withdrawn. Introductory. 1 7 So in rhetoric. While rhetoric is based upon princi- ples as changeless as the mind which thinks and imparts thought, in that department of its work which is con- cerned with expression it has only usage as authority for what it teaches — the usage of the best writers and speakers. And this is variable, changing from genera- tion to generation. While, for example, it must always be true that a thought should be expressed clearly, it is not true that an expression of it, clear to one generation, will necessarily be so to the next. Many words narrow in meaning, many widen, others completely change, and some words drop out of the vocabulary. Then, too, an arrangement of words customary at one time is not at another. A use of imagery suited to the taste of one age surfeits the next ; indeed, what was imagery once is accounted plain language now. Conceits and turns of expression current in Sidney's day grate harshly upon our ears ; and who would not, in the matter of style, appeal from Shakespeare in " Love's Labor Lost," to Shakespeare in "As You Like It"? Style, then, is fluid and shifting. Its highest stand- ard in any era is the prevailing usage of that era. What that is in everything cannot easily be determined ; but, as soon as it is ascertained for our period, we must bow to it as the supreme authority. Value of Rhetoric. — i. Dealing with invention, the finding of the thought, or subject-matter, rhetoric teaches us to think ; and thinking is the highest act of which the intellect is capable. 2. Dealing with expression, about which, as we have .een, there may be a question, and large freedom of choice, rhetoric stimulates inquiry, provokes the stu- dent to silent and to open disputation, compels to a bal- 1 8 hitrodiictory. ancing of reasons, and so develops an independent judg- ment. This discipline is eminently wholesome, and prepares one for the affairs of life. 3. Rhetoric gives a command of the vocabulary. Next to having something to say is the ability to impart it in apt words fitly arranged in the sentences, in sentences happily marshalled in the paragraph, in paragraphs standing to each other in their natural order. 4. Rhetoric lays literature under tribute. Based, as rhetoric is, upon the writings of the great, living and dead, it opens our eyes to see, and educates our taste to enjoy, the treasures of thought, and the graces of style lavished upon them. Of all the arts none outranks literature. Rhetoric opens this to our possession and enjoyment, and aims to make us artists in it. No valid objection lies against the study of rhetoric. It allows us all the freedom great writers and speak- ers have used, acquaints us with that which makes their productions classic, and bars our straying away into paths they have shunned, — paths which lead to harm. It checks license, but not liberty. Only a false rhetoric, one that narrows usage, forbidding what it allows ; that enforces a bookish diction, and puts under ban the idioms of conversation ; insists upon an arrange- ment, stiff and unnatural ; and gives such emphasis to manner as to withdraw proper attention from the subject-matter ; — only such a rhetoric could be hurt- ful. Let us add that, were rhetoric to end with simply teaching the pupil how things should be done, its study would not be fruitless. Rhetoric bears its ///// fruit, however, only when, in addition to this, it leads the pupil to do them as they should be done. Not rhetoric in the memory alone, enabling one to criticise, but rhetoric that Ideas, Thmking, Thought. 19 has worked its way down into the tongue and into the fingers, enabling one to speak well and write well, is what the pupil needs. To the Teacher. — See to it, before you proceed, that the pupils un- derstand what rhetoric is, and how it is related to kindred studies, and yet differs from them. Allow us here, on the very threshold of the study, to say that a large part of the pupil's work in the preparation of his lessons will be composition. This is that to which everything else required will be made ancillary. Whatever, then, is slurred, do not allow this to be. INVENTION. LESSON 2. SIMPLE SENTENCES. What Invention is. — Thought is communicated by means of words. They are its instrument, its servant. The thought determines the expression — the worthy thought prompting to a worthy expression, the worthless thought allowing a poor expression. Both in time and in importance, then, the thought stands first. In rhet- oric, to invent means to think. As a department of rhetoric. Invention is that which treats of the finding of thought for single sentences, for continued discourse. What it is to Think, and what a Thought is.— By means of our bodily senses the mind comes face to face with the things of the outer world. Thraugh the senses 20 Invention. the mind sees, hears, feels, tastes, and smells — in short, perceives. Through the senses it receives and brings into itself and stores away in the memory impressions, images, or pictures, of the things perceived. It gets these pictures, too, by reading, and by hearing people speak — the written or the oral word presenting these pictures to the mind. These impressions, or images, or pictures, of things we shall call ideas. That the mind does receive and store away these ideas is proved by the fact that we can bring them up out of the memory, look at them with what we may call the "mind's eye," and through them perceive again, as it were, the things long ago seen, heard, felt, tasted, or smelt. This bringing up the ideas and through them perceiving the things again is remembering, recollecting. And without^ the bodily senses the mind can perceive — it can ■ perceive its own acts, facts, thoughts, feelings. These are already in the mind, and so need no bodily sense to bring them into it. The things perceived stand in some relation to each other. They agree or they disagree with each other, and so the ideas we get of them through our senses must. To think is to detect an agreement or a disagreement between our mental pictures, or ideas, and to unite them. The result of these two acts of detecting and uniting is a thought. The writer or speaker detects this relatipn between his ideas, puts them together, and then expresses the result in words. In reading him or listening to him we receive these ideas in the form of thought. By our own observation we get them as single and detached ideas. We can ourselves convert them into thought im- mediately, or can lay them away in memory, recall them at any time afterward, and fuse them into thought. Un- Simple Se7itences. 2 1 combined, they are the raw material out of which thoughts are to be manufactured. If these ideas are united in the relation which the things they picture actually hold to each other, the thought is true ; if in some other relation, the thought is untrue or false, He who first detects the relation sub- sisting between certain ideas and unites them creates an absolutely original thought ; if he is ignorant that another has done it before him, the thought is only origi- nal with himself. A thought is produced by the fusion of at least two ideas. Birds fly = Birds are flying. Here the idea de- noted by birds and that denoted by y?y//;^'- are brought to- gether, and in the sentence are coupled by the copula are^ and thus one is affirmed of the other. Birds, naming the things and our idea of the things of which some- thing is to be affirmed, is the subject of the sentence ; and arc flying, denoting what is affirmed and affirming it, is the predicate. A simple sentence is one that contains but one subject and one predicate, either of which may be compound. Other words may be brought into the sentence and grouped about the subject and the predicate. The words so used are adjectives expressing ideas (i) assumed ; as, In- dustrious people can be found ; and (2) asserted; as, The Chinese are industrious ; are adverbs ; as, The Gulf Stream flows rapidly ; are nouns used as complements; as, Can I become an orator ? Practice makes an orator, What orators practice has made some men ! are nouns used as adjective modifiers, (i) possessive; as, Last came Joys ecstatic trial ; (2) explanatory; as, Henry VII. and Henry VIII., Tudors, preceded Edw. VI.; are words used inde- pendently ; as, O Sir, can you help me ? Direction. — Write sentences illustrating all the points made above, 2 2 Invention. but use no words in other relations than those explained. In writing these sentences observe and illustrate the following rules for capital letters and for punctuation — ^ Capital Letters.— Begin with a capital letter (1) the first word of a sentence, and (2) of a line of poetry ; (3) proper names and words derived from them, (4) names of things personified, and (5) most abbreviations; and write in capital letters (6) the words I and 0, and (7) numbers in the Roman notation. The Period. — Place a period after (1) a declarative or an imperative sentence, (2) an abbreviation, and (3) a number written in the Roman notation. The Comma. — Set off by the comma (1) an explanatory modifier which does not restrict the modified term or com- bine closely with it ; (2) a word or phrase independent or nearly so. The Apostrophe. — Use the apostrophe (1) to distinguish the possessive from other cases. The Interrogation Point. — Every direct interrogative sentence should be followed by an interrogation point. The Exclamation Point. — All exclamatory expressions must be followed by the exclamation point. * The rules given in this book for capital letters and for punctua- tion are taken from Reed & Kellogg's " Higher Lessons in English," where, especially under Composition, they are given and fully illus- trated. The teacher cannot be too thorough in his drill upon them. Punctuation is as much a part of a sentence as any word in it. The teacher should insist that no sentence is really written until it is prop- erly punctuated. Some of the definitions are taken from the same work. Simple Senlences. 23 LESSON 3. SIMPLE SENTENCES. A noun or pronoun with its preposition, forming a prepositional phrase, may be brought into the sentence and perform the office of (i) an adjective modifier; as, Vibrations of ether cause light ; or (2) an adverb modifier ; as. At Yorktoivn^ the Revolution ended. Without its prep- osition the noun may be used adverbially and become (i) a so-called dative object ; as, Hull refused Charles I. ad- mittance ; and (2) a noun of measure or direction; as, He returned home. An infinitive phrase, to with its verb, may be brought into the sentence, and become (i) a subject; as. To err is human ; (2) a complement ; as, The command is to forgive^ The Bible teaches us to forgive, The teacher made the pupil [to) forgive j (3) an adjective modifier ; as, The way to be forgiven is revealed ; (4) an explanatory modifier; as. This duty, to obey, is recognized ; (5) an adverb modifier; as. Strive to do your duty ; (6) the principal term of an- other phrase; as. He was about to speak ; and (7) it may be independent ; as, To tell the truth, he haunted count- ing-rooms. A participle may be brought into the sentence, and become (i) an adjective modifier; as, Air, expanding, rises ; (2) a complement ; as. The gladiator lay bleeding, Mirza saw people erossing the bridge ; (3) the principal word of a prepositional phrase ; as. By losing its privacy, benevo- lence loses its charm ; (4) the principal word in a phrase used as subject ; as. Casting out the 9's will prove the op- eration ; (5) the principal word in a phrase used as com- plement ; as, Pardon my forgetting your request ; and (6) 24 Invention. it may be independent; as. Speaking plainly, Hamlet wasn't mad. Direction. — Write sentences illustrating all the points made above, but use no words in other relations than those explained in this and in the preceding Lesson. Let no word have more than a single modi- fier, and, if possible, let no modifier be modified. In writing observe these rules also : — The Comma. — Set off by the comma (3) a phrase which is out of its natural order or is not closely connected with the word it modifies; and (4) a participle used as an adjec- tive modifier, with the words belonging to it, unless re- strictive. The Apostrophe. — Use the apostrophe (2) to mark the omission of letters, and (3) in the pluralizing of letters, figures, and characters. The Hyphen. — TJse the hyphen (1) to join the parts of compound words, and (2) between the syllables when a word is divided. LESSON 4. - SIMPLE SENTENCES — COMPOUND SUBJECT AND PREDICATE, AND COMPOUND AND COMPLEX MODIFIERS. "More than a single noun, each modified by one or more adjectives, may be used in a sentence, in the sev- eral offices indicated in Lesson 2 ; and any verb or ad- jective in the sentence may be modified by more than one adverb. Simple Se7itenccs. 25 Direction. — Point out the offices of the parts of speech in these sen- tences : — I. The greedy grubs and insects devour tender potato-vines, beans, beets, corn, and other plants. 2. The Roman amuse- ments were the stage, the circus, and the arena. 3. Despair not, soldier, statesman, citizen. 4. Macaulay, essayist, historian, and statesman, died in 1859. 5. Shakespeare's and everybody's ideal, Portia, was amiable and noble, and loved her husband truly and passionately. 6. The times made Brutus an assassin and a traitor. Direction. — Write simple sentences illustrating all the points just made. In writing observe these rules also : — The Comma. — Separate by the comma (5) connected words and phrases, unless all the conjunctions are ex- pressed ; and (6) the parts of a compound predicate, and other phrases, when long and differently modified. Several nouns with their prepositions, forming phrases, may be used as adjective modifiers of the same word, and, with or without their prepositions, as adverb modifiers. Direction. — Describe the phrase modifiers in these sentences, tell what they modify, and justify the punctuation : — I. The tersest simplicity and the most pregnant brevity of question and of reply were characteristics of the Spartans. 2. From every bush, from every fence, from cannon and muskets, a pitiless storm poured upon the retreating British. 3. At Cape May, the coast wears away nine feet a year. Direction. — Write simple sentences illustrating all the points just made. Several infinitive phrases or participles may be used in the various offices indicated in Lesson x. I Direction. — Point out the infinitive phrases and participles in these sentences, tell their functions, and justify the punctuation : — J. To spare the submissive and to war down the proud was 26 ^Jnvention. to recognize and obey the teaching of Rome. 2. After his ac- quittal, Warren Hastings amused himself with embellishing his grounds, riding fine Arab horses, and trying to rear Indian ani- mals and vegetables in England. 3. A longing to dictate, to intermeddle, and to make others feel his power made Frederic the Great unwilling to ask counsel, to confide important secrets, or to delegate ample powers. 4. The world saw Marie Antoi- nette decorating and cheering her elevated sphere. 5. The queen's horses, saddled and bridled, and about to start and fol- low the chase, stood pawing the earth and champing their bits. 6. Obeying the precept, to watch and to pray, and overlooking our neighbors' speaking ill of us and doing us wrong constitute the severest test of Christian virtue. 7. To tell the truth and not to exaggerate, speaking honestly and not dissembling, no man has ever stood this test perfectly. 8. The highest proof of virtue is to possess boundless power without abusing it. Direction. — Write simple sentences illustrating all these points. Keep the sentences, if possible, perfectly clear of complex modifiers. Complex Modifiers. — The nouns and verbs of phrase modifiers and all other modifiers may themselves be modified. Direction. — Point out and describe the modifiers in these sentences, particularly all those which modify other modifiers or parts of them, and justify the punctuation : — I. Cromwell was bitterly opposed to all jurisdiction in mat- ters of religion. 2. According to Marsh, the irregularity of the spelling in early English is very frequently chargeable almost wholly to the thoughtless printer's desire to fill out the line. 3. Could is said by Earle to have acquired its / by associating with those little words, or auxiliaries, would and sJiould. 4. The Saxon words in English are short, in great part monosyllabic, and full of consonants. 5. Yeast is added to dough merely to convert, or, putting it in other words, to change, by chemical action, some of the starch into sugar, and to raise and lighten Complex Sentences. 27 the loaf by thus dispersing the liberated carbonic acid gas equal- ly throughout the mass. 6. A well constituted tribunal sitting regularly six days in the week and nine hours a day would have brought Hastings' trial, lasting eight years, to a close in three months. 7 Addison's friends stood greatly amazed to see young Alexander Pope persistently maligning their chief, and yet giving himself out as a candidate for his favor. Direction. — In these sentences you see that nouns as subjects, as complements, as possessive and explanatory modifiers, and nouns in adjective or adverb modifiers ; that adjectives denoting qualities assumed or asserted ; that adverbs ; that verbs as predicates and verbs in infinitive phrases used independently or as adjective, explanatory, or adverb modifiers ; ar^d that participles used independently or as adjective modifiers, as complements, and as principal words in prepo- sitional phrases — that these are all modified. You see, also, by what they are modified. Write simple sentences illustrating all these points. In writing observe this rule also : — The Comma. — Set off by the comma (7) a term con- nected to another by or and having the same meaning. LESSON 5. COMPLEX SENTENCES WITH ADJECTIVE CLAUSES. You have seen that even simple sentences may be long and difficult, and may express much. But the sim- ple sentence is not the only sentence in constant use. We may put two or more simple sentences together, each with all its essential parts accompanied by their modi- fiers, and form what we call a complex or a compound sentence. These parts of complex and of compound sentences, containing each, of course, a subject and a 28 Invention, predicate, we call clauses. Some of these clauses may perform simply the functions of adjectives, of adverbs, or of nouns. These we call dependent clauses. Those not so degraded in office we call independent clauses. Hence A clause is a part of a sentence (complex or compound) containing a subject and a predicate. A dependent clause is one used as an adjective, an ad- verb, or a noun. An independent clause is one not used as an adjective, an adverb, or a noun, A complex sentence is one composed of an independent clause and one or more dependent clauses. A compound sentence is one composed of two or more in- dependent clauses, We begin with that species of the complex sentence which contains a dependent clause used as an adjective, that is, an adjective clause. The adjective clause may modify any noun in the independent clause, and the word which connects it to the leading clause need not necessarily be the subject. Adjective clauses may be classified as restrictive and unrestrictive. "Restrictive clauses limit the scope, or ap- plication, of the word they modify ; as. Water that is stagnant is unhealthful. Unrestrictive clauses do not so limit, or restrict, the application of the word they modi- fy ; as, Water, ivhich is oxygen and hydrogen united, is essen- tial to life. Direction. — Point out and classify the adjective clauses in these sentences, tell what they modify, and name the additional office, if any, which each connective performs : — I. Those who drink beer think beer. 2. Rome was great only in what we call physical strength. 3. Marlborough is perhaps Complex Sentences. 29 the only instance of a man of real greatness who loved money for money's sake. 4. The one great corruption to which all re- ligion is exposed is its separation from morality. 5. The bran of wheat, which is the covering of the kernel, is made up of several layers, and is broken into scales in grinding. 6. The mightiest master of words the world ever knew was the great Athenian, D th s. Often the connecting word is omitted, and so, some- times, is the antecedent. When and where^ equalling /;/ li'Jiich ; why, equalling for which ; and whereby, equalling by which, may introduce adjective clauses. // and there are often used idiomatically to throw the real subject after the verb. 7. There are times when every active mind feels itself above any and all human books. 8. It is faith in something and en- thusiasm for something that make life worth looking at. 9. A verb is a word whereby the chief action of the mind is ex- pressed. 10. The custom of saying grace at meals may have had its origin in places where dinners were precarious things. II. Even P r H x y would be troubled to give the reason why mosquitoes and midges exist, 12. Whoever or whatever violates a law of nature is punished. 13. It was life that he asked for. 14. The divisions which Lamb makes of the human race are two — the borrowers and the lenders. 15. Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just. Direction. — Write complex sentences containing adjective clauses introduced by the several connectives used above, and illustrating all the points there made. In writing observe these rules also : — The Comma. — Set off by the comma (8) the adjective clause when not restrictive. The Dash. — Use the dash where there is an omission (1) of such words as as, namely, viz., i. e., or that ts, intro- ducing illustrations or equivalent expressions, and (2) where there is an omission of letters or figures. ;o Invention. LESSON 6. COMPLEX SENTENCES WITH ADVERB CLAUSES. Dependent clauses may discharge the office of adverbs. Such clauses, called adverb clauses, may express (i) the time, (2) the place, (3) the degree, (4) the manner, and (5) the real cause of the action or being denoted by verbs, or they may modify adjectives or adverbs. Direction. — Classify the adverb clauses in these sentences, tell what they modify, and give the connectives with their full functions : — I. The colorless substance known in ancient times as bird- lime is the gluten remaining after the starch in flour has been washed away. 2. The convalescent changes sides oftener than a politician. After than and as^ words are sometimes omitted. 3. The waves of sound do not move so rapidly as the waves of light. 4. The ancient Roman went to bed early, simply be- cause his worthy mother Earth could not afford him candles. 5. I lisped in numbers, for the numbers came. 6. Where there is a well-ballasted paragraph, solid in matter and earnest in manner, the adverbs may be crowded with glad effect. 7. As the twig is bent, the tree is inclined. 8. While Raleigh was launching paper navies, Shakespeare was stretching his baby hands for the moon. 9. Milk is one of the most important foods, since it contains all the elements of nutrition in the most digestible form. 10. The more we know of ancient literature, the more we are struck with its modernness. 11. Milton almost requires a service to be played before you enter upon him. 12. As we grow older, we think more and more of old persons and of old places and things. 13. Sometimes there is cinder in the Complex Sentences. 31 iron, because there is cinder in the pay. 14. Since we declared our independence in 17 — , how this country has developed ! 15. As the juices of meat, determining its flavor, are not the same throughout an animal, all parts of the flesh do not taste alike. 16. As one tree keeps down another in the forest, so one speculator an- tagonizes other speculators. 17. When love begins to sicken and decay, it useth an enforced ceremony. 18. The ether in space is so thin that some scientists doubt its having any resisting power. 19. In Goethe's character of poet, he set as little store by useless learning as Shakespeare did. 20. Carbonic acid gas sinks to the bottom of caves and abandoned wells, as it is heavier than air. 21. Whenever the subjected nation even ap- proximates to an equality in material or mental force, the native dialect is adopted by the conqueror. 22. Tea increases the waste in the body, since it promotes the transformation of food without supplying nutriment, and increases the loss of heat without supplying fuel. 23. Knowledge and timber shouldn't be much used till they are seasoned. Direction. — Write complex sentences containing adverb clauses of time, place, degree, manner, and real cause, introduced by the several connectives used above. In writing observe this rule also : — The Comma. — Set off by the comma (9) the adverb clause, unless it closely follows and restricts the word it modifies. LESSON 7. COMPLEX SENTENCES WITH ADVERB CLAUSES. Adverb clauses may express (6) reason, the cause of our knowing and asserting something to be, (7) condition, 3 2 Invention. \ (8) purpose, and (9) concession, that in spite of which something exists. Direction, — Classify the adverb clauses in these sentences, tell what they modify, and note the connectives which introduce the clauses different in kind ; — I. Foul deeds will rise, though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. 2. We have had along and severe drought, for the streams are low. 3. Coffee, roasted, is ground so that the aro- matic volatile oil in it may be developed. 4. If bad men com- bine, the good must associate. 5., Moralists should cultivate in men the proper love of wealth and of power, lest civilization should be undone. 6. Were one to open his ear and his purse to all the schemes proposed to him, he would soon find himself in the poor-house. If is sometimes omitted. 7. Cheese, although it is itself difficult of digestion, promotes the digestion of other foods. 8. Since there are fossils in the rocks ante-dating man, the first of terrestrial animals in dig- nity could not have been the first in time. 9. Charles I. cringed to Louis XIV. that he might trample on his own people. 10. However imperfect the jury-system may be, we cannot afford to abandon it. 11. Richelieu died in the natural course of na- ture, notwithstanding he was all his life long beset by assassins. 12. Except your younger brother come down with you, ye shall see my face no more. 13. Unless the young of the oyster perish- ed by the million, the shallow seas would swarm with these mollusks. 14. Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty. 15. Provided a boy has an eye for every side and angle of contin- gency, he may succeed in law, 16, In case the winds were al- ways southwest by west, women might take ships to sea. 17, Shun debt in order that you may never be the slave of creditors. 18. On condition that twelve citizens of Calais would give them- selves into his hands, Ed. III. promised to show mercy to the town. 19. The season must have been a rainy one, because Complex Sente7ices. 33 vegetation is rank. 20. O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil. Direction. — Write complex sentences containhig adverb clauses of reason, condition, purpose, and concession, introduced by the several connectives used above. Direction. — Justify the punctuation used in the sentences of Lessons 5, 6, and 7. It is worth noting that of the nine classes of adverb clauses, explained and illustrated, the last five really come under the head of cause, although only the first of them assigns the cause proper. The reason clause as- signs the cause of our knowing and asserting something to be, though not the cause which makes it to be ; the condition clause assigns what, if it occurs, will be the cause of something; \\\.q purpose clause assigns the mo- tive which is working in some mind, or might work in some mind, to cause something ; and the concession clause assigns a cause for something else than that expressed in the leading proposition — a cause in spite of which what is said in the leading proposition takes place. LESSON 8. COMPLEX SENTENCES WITH NOUN CLAUSES. Dependent clauses may perform the office of nouns. Such clauses, called noun clauses, may be used (t) as sub- jects of verbs, (2) as object complements, — objects — of them, (3) as attribute complements, — predicate clauses, (4) as explanatory modifiers — in apposition, — and (5) with 34 Invention. or without the preposition expressed, as principal terms of prepositional phrases. These clauses may be questions, direct or indirect ; and they may be quoted directly or indirectly. A direct question introduced into a sentence is one in which the exact words and their order in an interroga- tive sentence are preserved, and which is followed by an interrogation point ; and an indirect question is one re- ferred to as a question, but not asked or quoted as such, and which is not followed by an interrogation point. A direct quotation is one whose exact words, as well as thought, are copied, and an indirect quotation is one whose thought is copied, but whose exact words are not. Direction. — Classify the noun clauses in these sentences, and point out the direct and the indirect questions and quotations : — I. Much turns upon when and where you read a book, 2. Lowell has long been certain that the great vice of American writing and speaking is a studied want of simplicity. 3. Nathan Hale's only regret was, that he had but one life to give to his country. 4. Logicians say that the operations of the mind are three; namely, i. Simple apprehension; 2. Judgment; 3. Dis- course, or reasoning. 5. Byron, seeing Moore eating an under- done beefsteak, asked if he were not afraid of committing murder after such a meal. 6. That Mary Queen of Scots, hardly infe- rior to Elizabeth in intellectual power, stood high above her in fire and grace and brilliancy of temper, admits of no doubt. 7. Charles Lamb, reading the epitaphs in the church-yard, inquir- ed, " Where be all the bad people buried ?" 8. " I would surrender all my genius and learning in exchange for beauty" is a remark credited to Madame de Stael. 9. In studying grammar through the English language, v/e must purge our minds of the wooden notion that it is an inherent quality of a word to be this or that part of speech. 10. The whole force of conversation depends on Co7nplex Sentences. 35 how much you can take for granted. 11. Your ancestors' doing nothing is not considered proof that you can do anything. Direction. — Write as many complex sentences containing noun clauses of all kinds, and illustrate all the points made above. In writing observe these rules also : — The Comma. — Set off by the comma (10) a noun clause used as an attribute complement; and (11) a direct quota- tion making complete sense and introduced into a sentence, unless it is formally introduced or is a noun clause used as subject; and use the comma (12) after a>s, viz., to wit, NAMELY, and THAT IS, whcu they introduce examples or illustrations. Capital Letters.— Begin with a capital le ter (8) the first word of a direct quotation making complete sense and of a direct question introduced into a sentence, and (9) phrases or clauses separately numbered or paragraphed. Quotation Marks. — duotation marks enclose a copied word or passage. If the quotation contains a quotation, this is enclosed within single marks. The Semicolon.— Use the semicolon (1) before as, viz., TO wit, namely, and that is, when they introduce examples or illustrations. LESSON 9. COMPLEX SENTENCES WITH ALL KINDS OF DE- PENDENT CLAUSES. Direction. — Point out and classify the adjective, the adverb, and the noun clauses in these sentences, and justify the punctuation : — I. If we track Queen Elizabeth through her tortuous mazes of lying and intrigue, the sense of her greatness is almost lost 36 hivcntion. in a sense of contempt. 2. William, Earl of Nassau, won a sub- ject from Spain whenever he put off his hat. 3. The nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become. 4. The natural tendency to run ad- jectives together in triads is an instinctive effort of the mind to present a thought with the three dimensions that belong to every solid. 5. " Truth gets well if [= eve7i if — though \ she is run over by a locomotive." 6. " Thanatopsis" first appeared in print in the North American Review, which for so many years was our leading Quarterly. 7. As both means two taken to- gether, so ^////^r means two considered separately. 8. Yet I am strong and lusty, for in my youth I never did apply hot and re- bellious liquors in my blood. 9. Know ye not that a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump ? 10. The unpoetical side of protestantism is, that it has no women to be worshipped. 11. Where there is no tale-bearer, the strife ceaseth. 12. We disbe- lieve that we may the better believe and believe the better. 13. " God gave two-thirds of all the beauty to Eve" is a saying of the Mohammedans. 14. It will be fair to-day, for last evening's red sky is followed by this morning's gray. 15. Daily do we verify this saying : " Man's extremity is God's opportunity." 16. The principle involved in, " Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God," was the seminal principle of the American Revolution. Direction. — Write complex sentences illustrating the several uses of dependent clauses. Let one or two illustrate the noun clause which takes the place of the principal word of a prepositional phrase, but which is without a preposition. In writing observe these rules also : — The Colon. — Use the colon (1) before a quotation or an enumeration of particulars when formally introduced. Brackets. — Use brackets to enclose what, in quoting an- other's words, you insert by way of explanation or correction. Compoiuid Sentences. 2)7 LESSON 10. COMPOUND SENTENCES. The independent clauses joined to form compound sentences may be (i) in the same line of thought, the sec- ond adding to the first, the third adding to the first and second, and so on ; they may be (2) adversative to each other, presenting thoughts in contrast or in alternation ; or they may express thoughts one of which shall be (3) a conseq^uence of the other, or (4) an inference from it. They are usually connected by conjunctions, but they may stand joined by their very position in the sentence — connected without any conjunction expressed. Direction. — Classify these sentences according to the relations of their clauses to each other, and note the conjunctions, when used, which unite the clauses in these relations ; — I. Allthe arrangements of our telescopes and microscopes are anticipated in the eye, and our best musical instruments are sur- passed by the larynx. 2. Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. 3. The consonant B was once a picture of a house, and D is an old picture of a door. 4. The one prudence in life is concentration; the one evil is dissipation. 5. Nitro- glycerine has great rending power, but it has no value whatever as a projectile. 6. Fat is heat-generating alone, whilst flesh is both flesh-forming and heat-generating. 7. Spring is a fickle mistress, Summer is more staid, Autumn is the poet of the family, but Winter is a thoroughly honest fellow with no nonsense in him. 8. In the wilds of Maine, the aboriginal trees have never been dispossessed, nor has nature been disforested. 9. Oh ! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war } 10. Wisdom J 8 ' Invention. is the principal thing, therefore get wisdom, ii. The camel has been termed the ship of the desert, the caravan may be termed its fleet. 12. Tic-tac ! tic-tac ! go the wheels of thought ; our will cannot stop them ; they cannot stop them- selves , sleep cannot still them ; madness only makes them go faster ; death alone can break into the case, and silence at last the clicking of the terrible escapement carried so long beneath our wrinkled foreheads. 13. Young trees must be planted in our older states, or the water in many of our streams will fail. 14. Water expands in freezing ; often in the winter season pitchers filled with it burst. 15. Our memories are most retentive in youth, consequently geography, history, and the modern languages should be studied then. 16. These Moors are changeable in their wills — put money in thy purse. Direction. — Write as many compound sentences whose clauses shall stand in the relations explained above, and illustrate ihe points there made. In writing observe these rules also . — The Comma. — (13) Co-ordinate clauses independent or de- pendent, when short and closely connected, must be separated by the comma. The Semicolon. — Co-ordinate clauses, independent or dependent, (1) when slightly connected or (2) when them- selves divided by the comma must be separated by the semicolon. The Dash. — Use the dash (3) where the sentence breaks off abruptly, and the same thought is resumed after a slight suspension, or another takes its place. Simple y Complex, and Compound Sentences. 39 LESSON 11. SIMPLE, COMPLEX, AND COMPOUND SENTENCES. Direction. — Classify these sentences, name the independent and the dependent clauses, give the function and relation of each, and justify the punctuation throughout ; — I. A great deal which in colder regions is ascribed to mean dispositions belongs to mean temperature. 2. Caesar thought Cassius dangerous to the state, because he had a lean and hun- gry look, and was without taste for music. 3. Most people in this country must work with head or hands, or they must starve. 4. And wretches hang that jurymen may dine. 5- The moun- tains in Brazil are too high to scale, the rivers are too wide to bridge. 6. The starting eyeball and the open mouth tell more terror than the most abject words. 7. Nature is in earnest when she makes a woman. 8. New rice must be inferior to old, inas- much as it is less digestible. 9. It is remarkable that scarcely a house built before i860 has any special means for ventilation. lO. By a usage, which was peculiar to England, each subtenant in addition to his oath of fealty to his lord swore fealty directly to the crown. 11. To be bold against an enemy is common to the brutes, but the prerogative of a man is to be bold against himself. 12. Very few people now urge that it is unjust to tax one for the education of other people's children. 13. Controversy equalizes fools and wise men, and the fools know it. 14. As the door turneth upon his hinges, so doth the slothful upon his bed. 15. Horse-racing is not a repubHcan institution ; horse-trotting is. 16. Where there is no vision, the people perish. 17. The in- ternal secretions are diminished by the use of alcoholic drinks; hence the larynx, mouth and throat become dry, the tendency to congestion of the circulation-centres also increasing. 18. Though Milton defended the execution of Charles I., he died an 40 l7ivcntio7i. ordinary death. 19. That force is indestructible and eternal was first recognized in India. 20. The belief of some is, that hospitality is largely a matter of latitude. 21. Wallace's dis- covery of the military value of the stout peasant footman gave a death blow to the system of feudalism, and changed m the end the face of Europe. 22. Many people are still confident that the national history and the national language are studied only in their decay. 23. With us law is nothing, unless close behind it stands a warm, living public opinion. Direction. — Write simple, complex, and compound sentences. Illus- trate all kinds of dependent clauses in your complex sentences, and all kinds of independent clauses in your compound sentences. Let some of your compound sentences be without connectives. Attend to the punctuation. LESSON 12. SENTENCES WITH COMPLEX AND COMPOUND CLAUSES. You have seen that single words may be united to form, for example, a compound subject or complement ; and that the same word may have many modifiers form- ing what, taken as a whole, we have called a compound modifier. You have seen, too, that one modifier may be modified by another, the whole forming a complex word or phrase modifier. You are now to see that sentences may contain clauses which are themselves complex or compound. In them we reach the highest stage of intricacy of which the sentence is susceptible. Direction. — Point out the independent and the dependent clauses in Complex and Compoitnd Clauses. 41 these sentences tell what clauses are of the same order, are co- ordinate, and what modify clauses which are themselves dependent, give the function of each, and justify the punctuation : — I. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. 2. As long as the Lord can tolerate me, I think I can stand my fellow-creatures. 3. The honorable mem- ber may perhaps tind that, in that contest, there will be blows to take as well as blows to give ; that others can state comparisons as significant, at least, as his own; and that his impunity may possibly demand of him whatever powers of taunt and sarcasm he may possess. 4. We pick the sun's rays to pieces, as [wc would pick them] if they were so many skeins of colored yarn. 5. Train up a child in the way he should go, and, when he is old, he will not depart from it. 6. Only remember this: that, if a bushel of potatoes is shaken in a market cart without springs to it, the small ones always get to the bottom. 7. When one has had all his conceit taken out of him, his feathers will soon soak through, and he will fly no more. 8. If man could have invented language, we may safely conclude that he did invent it, for God does nothing for us which we can do ourselves, 9. Marshal Lannes once said to a French officer, " Know, Colonel, that none but a poltroon will boast that he never was afraid." 10. The view of Longinus, one of the ablest critics of antiquity, was the right one, that, if the Iliad was the work of Homer's fiery youth and early manhood, the Odyssey belongs to his serener age — that, if the one is the glory of the mid-day, the other is the glory of the setting sun. ii» The ordinary talk of unlettered men among us is fuller of metaphor, and of phrases that suggest lively images, than that of any other people I have seen. 12. As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not see it moving , and as it appears that the grass has grown, though no- body ever saw it grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps, are perceivable only by the distance. Direction. — Write sentences containing compound and complex clauses and illustrate the points exhibited above. In writing observe these rules also : — 42 Invention. The Dash. — Use the dash (4) before a word or phrase repeated for emphasis. The Colon. — Use the colon (2) between the great parts of a sentence when either of the parts is divided by the semi- colon. LESSON 13. SENTENCES WITH COMPLEX AND COMPOUND CLAUSES. Direction, — Treat the sentences in this Lesson as directed with those in Lesson 12 : — I. " If I were rich, I think I would have my garden covered with an awning so that it would be comfortable to work in,ll_ says Warner, the humorist. 2. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as many of your pla)'ers do, I had as lief the town- crier spoke my lines. 3. There is no elasticity in a mathemati- cal fact, everything must go to pieces that comes into collision with it. 4. Emerson tells us, "I knew a wise woman who said to her friends, ' When I am old, rule me.' " 5. " I am never beat- en until I know I am beaten" was a remark of Benedict's. 6. In the matter of love one can be sure only of this cardinal principle ,* that, when you are quite sure two people cannot be in love with each other, because there is no earthly reason why they should be, then you may be very confident that you are wrong and that they are in love, for the secret of love is past finding out. 7. The point of honor which requires a man to be afraid of seem- ing to be afraid of what he is afraid of formed no part of the Homeric idea of heroism. 8. Sheridan, when he concluded his great speech in the impeachment of Hastings, contrived, with a knowledge of stage effect which his father might have en- vied, to sink back, as if exhausted, into the arms of Burke, who Substitution and Contraction. 43 hugged him with the energy of generous enthusiasm. 9. But we cannot have everything, as the man said when he was down with the small-pox and the cholera, and the yellow-fever came into the neighborhood. 10. They sent Tallien to seek out a boy lieutenant. Napoleon Bonaparte, the shadow of an officer, so thin and pallid that, when he was placed on the stand before them, the President of the Assembly, fearful, if the fate of France rested on the shrunken form, the ashy cheek before him, that all hope was gone, asked, " Young man, can you protect the As- sembly.'^" II. The dogma is borrowed from a character in a play which is, I dare say, as great a favorite with my learned friend as it is with me, — I mean the comedy of " The Rivals " — in which Mrs. Malaprop, giving a lecture on the subject of mar- riage to her niece, (who is unreasonable enough to talk of liking, as a necessary preliminary to such a union,j says, " What have you to do with your likings and your preferences, child ?" Direction. — Write as directed in the preceding Lesson. In writing observe these rules also . — Marks of Parenthesis. — Marks of parenthesis may be used to enclose what has no essential connection with the rest of the sentence. The Dash. — The dash may be used (5) instead of marks of parenthesis, and (6) may follow other marks, adding to their force. LESSON 14. SUBSTITUTION AND CONTRACTION. One part of speech or modifier may be exchanged for another, and by omission and contraction we may abridge and even get rid of clauses, dependent or in- dependent. We shall make use of these facts when we 44 Invenlzoiz. come to speak of certain qualities of style, but for obvious reasons we shall take up the matter here. Direction. — Where you can, change the prepositional phrases in these sentences to adjectives, to adverbs, or to nouns in the possessive case: — I. A thing of beauty is a joy forever. 2. German is homoge- neous to a remarkable degree. 3. At Naseby, the rout of the forces of the King was complete. 4. From the time of Edw. the First to that of Cromwell, no Jew touched the soil of England. 5. The dungeon was, in. its origin, the principal tower in the castle of the lord. 6. The best features of the translation of King James, in 161 1, are derived from the version of Tyndale. 7. Vulgarisms are, in many cases, only poetry in the egg. Direction. — Where you can, change these adjectives, adverbs, and nouns in the possessive case to prepositional phrases : — I. Charles the Second's last act was to seek formal admission into the Roman Catholic Church. 2. The interjection may be said to be passion's mother-tongue. 3. Th« conclusions of sci- ence are seldom more than highly probable. 4. The study of the Greek and Latin languages might advantageously be partly replaced by that of Anglo-Saxon. 5. The serpent's trail is over them all. 6. There were 700,000 vols, in the two Alexandrian libraries. 7. British and American commerce has scattered the productions of Anglo-Saxon genius over the habitable globe. 8. In Elizabeth's reign, domestic architecture was in its infan- cy. 9. The water-lily is the type of the poet's soul. 10. This strange word, demijohn, has sadly puzzled etymologists. Direction. — Write sentences illustrating fully both these series of changes. Participles may be substituted for infinitive phrases, and infinitive phrases for participles. Direction. — Where you can, change the participles in these sentences to infinitive phrases, and the infinitive phrases to participles : — Siibstittctioii and Contraction. 45 1. To speak properly, vulgarity is in the thought and not iti the word. 2. One of the great needs of language is the purging it of its prurient and pretentious metaphors. 3. The best way of arriving at a theory of disease is by beginning with the theory of health. 4. To reduce a language to writing is to put a stop to the formation of inflections. 5. Having something to say and saying just that and no other is after all the secret of the art of writing. 6. To have a specific style and always to use it is to be poor in speech. Direction. — Write sentences illustrating these substitutions. Adjective, adverb, and independent clauses may be contracted by omitting pronouns and verbs or the verbs alone. Direction. — Contract these adjective and adverb clauses and some of the independent clauses: — I. Our place is to be true to the best that we know. 2. All attainable health is a duty, all avoidable sickness is a sin. 3. You are always sure to detect a sham in the things which folks most affect. 4. When you are an anvil, hold you still ; when you are a hammer, strike your fill. 5. No poetry was ever more human than Chaucer's is. 6. The oak does not grow so tall as the pine grows. 7. Truth gets well if she is run over by a loco- motive. 8. The most satisfactory impressions of places which we have never seen are derived from poetry. 9. Lawyers are the cleverest men, ministers are the most learned, and doctors are the most sensible. 10. The Yankee says that, if it were possi- ble, he would have no outside rows in his cornfield. Direction. — Write sentences illustrating these contractions. 46 Invention. LESSON 15. SUBSTITUTION AND CONTRACTION. Adjective clauses may be got rid of by dropping the subject and verb ; adverb clauses by dropping the subject, verb, and connective ; and independent clauses by drop- ping the subject, verb^ and repeated words. Direction.— Get rid of as many of these adjective, adverb, and in- dependent clauses as you can: — I. Affectation, which is the desire of seeming to be what we are not, is the besetting sin of men. 2. Circumcision is not only a Jewish custom, but it is an Arabian, a Phoenician, and an Egyptian custom. 3. There is no place which is too humble for the glories of heaven to shine in. 4. One of the most famil- iar English endings of nouns is er, which is indicative of the agent. 5. What the Puritans gave the world was not thought, but it was action. 6. Though Elizabeth was buried in foreign intrigues, she was above all an English sovereign. 7. The best sermon which was ever preached upon modern society is " Van- ity Fair." 8. In mere love of what was vile, Charles II. stood ahead of any of his subjects. 9. Popular opinions are often true, but they are seldom or never the whole truth. 10. The propor- tion of water which is commonly found in butter is from half an ounce to an ounce in a pound. 11. At Lexington, our fathers fired the shot which was heard round the world. Direction. — Write sentences fully illustrating these changes. An adjective clause may contract to a prepositional phrase with a noun for the principal word ; and an ad- Sicbstitution and Contraction, 47 verb or a noun clause to a prepositional phrase with a participle or a noun for the principal word. Direction. — Contract these adjective, adverb, and noun clauses to prepositional phrases with nouns or participles as the principal words: — I. A shrug of the shoulders would lose much if it were trans- lated into words. 2. Men, like peaches and pears, grow sweet a little while before they are ready to fall. 3. A sharp criticism which has a drop of witty venom in it stings a young author al- most to death. 4. Many people fail, because they neglect their business. 5. Trains should be run that travellers may be ac- commodated. 6. If we keep to the golden mean in everything, we shall at least avoid danger. 7. Queen Mary was hopeful that she should be liberated by France or Spain, the enemies of Elizabeth. 8. The true Christian lives as the New Testament directs. 9, Shakespeare died where he was born. 10. Milton was eight years old when Shakespeare died. 11. Some minute ani- mals feed, though they have no mouths or stomachs. 12. Though we care for our bodies, we cannot always keep them in health and vigor. 13. The thought that the fixed stars are billions of miles away is appalling. Direction. — Write sentences containing adjective clauses, and those classes of adverb and noun clauses used above, and illustrate the changes there shown. LESSON 16 SUBSTITUTION AND CONTRACTION. Adjective, adverb, noun, and independent clauses may be contracted to participles, or to phrases containing; participles. 48 l7lV€7ltwn, Direction. — Change each dependent clause in these sentences, and an independent clause in the compound sentence, to a participle, or lo a phrase containing a participle: — I. Men who have not handled books from infancy are afraid of them, 2. Glaciers, which flow down mountain gorges, obey the law of rivers. 3. Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris. 4. Error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger. 5. That a maple tree has sex seems a little strange. 6. When John- son wrote for publication, he did his sentences out of English into Johnsonese, 7. Death, though it dela3^s its visit long, will certainly knock at every door, 8. Dark clothes are warm in summer, because they absorb the rays of the sun. 9. The only criticism made upon Washington is, that he was not intellectu- ally eminent. 10. Franklin must have been a wise philosopher, since he is quoted by everybody. 11. What boy does not la- ment that he never heard Daniel Webster speak ? 12. The Mosque of Omar occupies the site of Solomon's Temple, and it is the most graceful building in the East. Direction. — Write sentences containing (i) restrictive and (2) unre- strictive adjective clauses, (3) those kinds of adverb and (4) of noun clauses used above, and (5) independent clauses, and illustrate the changes there made. Adverb and independent clauses may be contracted to absolute phrases. Direction. — Change one independent clause in each compound sen- tence below to an absolute phrase, and every adverb clause in the complex sentences to one: — I . When the cat's away, the mice will play. 2. The letter A was once a picture, a bull's head was represented by it. 3. The tides rise higher than usual at new moon, since the sun and moon then act in conjunction. 4. Though the age of reading and of thinking men has come, the age of bullets is not over. 5. If the boy sows the seeds of moral or physical ill health, the man Substitution aiid Contraction. 49 will reap the bitter harvest. 6. We have passed the 21st of Sept., as the sun sets now before six. 7. Every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a devil. . Direction. — Write sentences containing the kinds of adverb clauses used above, and write compound sentences, and illustrate the changes there shown. LESSON IT. SUBSTITUTION AND CONTRACTION. Adjective, adverb, and noun clauses may be contracted to infinitive phrases. Direction. — Contract the dependent clauses in these sentences to phrases containing infinitives. I. A general often leaves his camp-fires burning that they may conceal his retreat. 2. Modern failures are of such magni- tude that they appal the imagination. 3. Some students are foolish, because they study so late at night. 4. We should rejoice when we hear of the prosperity of others. 5. It is of the very nature of an interjection that it eludes the meshes of a defini- tioUo 6. Every Bostonian thinks that the State House is the hub of the solar system. 7. The Son of Man had no place where he might lay his head. 8. That we make the most of golden opportunities is a privilege as well as a duty. 9. The in- fluence of school prizes is, that they lead pupils to study for the sake of them. 10. Everybody is quite sure that he shall make a mint of money in his speculation. 11. His friends do not know how or where they should look for the body of A. T. Stewart. 12. People in this country are seldom without the means by which they can procure food. 13. How delightful it would be if we could throw away our locks and turn our jails and prisons mto hospitals! 14. There is a time when one may dance. Direction. — Write sentences containing the kinds of adjective, ad- 50 Invention, verb, and noun clauses used above, and illustrate the changes there made. Direct questions or quotations may be changed to in- direct, and indirect to direct. Direction. — Change the direct questions and quotations below and in Lesson 13 to indirect, and the indirect to direct: — I. An Athenian, sent to Sparta on public business, reported, on returning to his native city, that he understood w^hy the Spartans were so ready to remain on the battle-field, as a Spar- tan death was less formidable than a Spartan dinner. 2. Agesi- laus the Great, hearing one praise an orator who had the power of magnifying little things, said, " I do not like a shoemaker who puts large shoes on a small foot," 3. Had a Spartan been asked, " What is the chief end of man .^" he would have answered by inquiring if it was not to live as uncomfortably as possible,' and to die fighting, spitted by a hostile spear. Direction. — Write sentences illustrating these changes. Adverb clauses may be changed to adjective clauses, and one of the independent clauses in a compound sen- tence to an adjective or an adverb clause. Direction. — Change the adverb clause below to an adjective clause, and one clause of each compound sentence to a dependent clause, ad- jective or adverb: — I. Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries. 2. There is surely an eclipse, it is growing dark at midday. 3. The engines are returning, the fire is put out. 4. When a miser has lost his hoard, he has nothing left to comfort him. 5. The prodigal son had the best of reasons for staying at home, yet he wandered away from it. 6. Pearls are worn by queens, and yet they are formed inside of oyster shells. Direction. — Write sentences illustrating all these changes. Expa7ision and S^ibstitutioji. 51 LESSON 18. EXPANSION AND SUBSTITUTION. Direction. — By expansion and substitution illustrate, with the sen- tences in this and in the following Lesson, the teaching of the last four Lessons, and give an account of your work: I. Everybody has something to teach us. 2. Almost extin- guished among the Jews, sacrifice is still a part of the worship of the Bedouin Arab, 3. Adam Smith's " Wealth of Nations" is one of the most important books men have written. 4. The wonderful having become common, we are likely to overlook it. 5. George the Third's reign was the golden age of mediocrity. 6. Milton was not only the highest but the completest type of Puritanism, 7. The setting sun, mantling with the bloom of roses the Alpine snows, had to our eyes a value beyond its optical one. 8. A race shortening its weapons lengthens its boundaries. 9. We are all tattoed in our cradles with the national beliefs and prejudices. 10. The story of Cromwell's being prevented by a royal embargo from crossing the sea to America is probably un- founded, II. No poet of the first class has ever left a school be- hind him, his imagination being incommunicable. 12. A peti- tion from the officers of Parliament demanded the withdrawal of the proposal to restore the monarchy. 13. After eating honey, one thinks his tea to be without sugar. 14. The fire is put out, for the engines are returning. 15. Had you asked Dr. Johnson what his opinion of a sick man was, he would have re- plied, " Every man is a rascal as soorras he is sick." 16. To de- fend ourselves and our own is an imperative duty. 17. The Nibelungen Lied, the great epic of Germany, dates, in all prob- ability, back to 1200, 18. The best of perfumes is just fresh air with no mixture of anything in it. 19. Shakespeare was forty- four years old at Milton's birth. 20. Mohammedans try to live up 5 2 Invention, to the teachings of the Koran. 21. Wishing to enjoy the Adi- rondacks, you must carry mountains in your brain. 22. Read by every one, the words of the English Bible do not become obsolete. 23. The effect of friction is to heat the substances rubbed. 24. We are certain in the end to overcome evil with good. 25. The weeds in our gardens and in our minds are likely to grow so fast as to choke the plants. 26. Staying at home, one may visit Italy a;id the tropics. 27. Trifles light as air are to the jealous confirmations strong as proofs from holy writ. Direction. — Write sentences and expand them to illustrate the points made above. When you can, illustrate, as above, more than one point in a sentence. LESSON ID. EXPANSION AND SUBSTITUTION. I. The lamper eel fastens upon a person or a fish to suck out the blood. 2. We are always glad to harness a force of nature to our work. 3. Drive a strange ox into a pasture, and there will always be a trial of strength between him and the leader of the herd. 4. The dough not being well kneaded, the bread is too porous. 5. Dry flour having been added to the dough, the loaf will be hard and close. 6. Sir Walter Scott was unjust to him- self to write, after the great failure, almost without cessation. 7. We are sorry to see the days growing shorter and the nights longer. 8. It is a good sign, when writing, to have your feet grow cold. 9. The frost having appeared, the yellow fever is still loth to leave. 10. Liberty's knowing nothing but victory has almost become an adage. 11. Everybody concedes Washing- ton's having been a purer patriot than Napoleon. 12. God made the country, and man the town. 13. To earn is to have. 14. Being delightful is being classic. 15. Capt. Eads is building jetties at the mouth of the Mississippi for the improvement of the channel. 16. With good health and cheerful spirits, one Composition of Sentences. 53 can accomplish much. 17. By keeping the fields free from weeds, one will not necessarily reap a bountiful harvest. 18. By allowing the weeds to grow unchecked, the farmer will reap nothing at all. 19. Rain, falling, rises from the lakes and seas as vapor. 20. Night came on, closing the petals of the flowers. 21. A strong argument against the jury-system is the court's excluding intelligent men from the jury-box. 22. Arnold was fearful of being detected in his treason. 23. Each rogue, re- pentant, melts his stern papa. 24. Cairo is situated at the junction of the Ohio with the Mississippi. 25. The Nile, rising to a certain height, makes Egypt fruitful. 26. By no enactment of Maine Laws will legislatures utterly destroy intemperance. 27. The grass is covered with dew this morning, because the night was clear and cool. 28. By the concealment of his crime, the murderer escaped detection. 29. A scholar who has lost his money is not a bankrupt. 30. Though we live in time and space, yet we can understand neither. 31. Water, one of whose ele- ments is inflammable and the other supports combustion, is it- self hostile to fire. 32. The ice, having contracted and left great cracks, must have been subjected to very low temperature. 33. Hamlet's mother asking him, " What have I done that thou dar'st wag thy tongue in noise so rude against me?" he replied that it was an act which blurred the grace and blush of modesty. 34. Roads are repaired for the accommodation of travellers. Direction. — Be careful so to expand and change the sentences in these two Lessons that every point in the four preceding Lessons shall be illustrated. Give the reason for every mark of punctuation in them. LESSON 20. COMPOSITION OF SENTENCES. Direction. — Notice how, by reducing some of these simple sentences to adjective clauses and afterwards to participle and prepositional phrases, this series of sentences is converted into one sentence: — 54 Invention, I greatly admire the Alps, I see them distinctly from the windows of my "Castles in Spain." I delight in the taste of the southern fruit. This fruit ripens upon my terraces. I enjoy the pensive shade of the Italian ruins. These ruins are in my gardens. I like to shoot crocodiles. I like to talk with the Sphinx. The Sphinx stands upon the shores of the Nile. The Nile flows through my domain, = I greatly admire the Alps, which I see distinctly from the windows of my *' Castles in Spain ;" I delight in the taste of the southern fruit that ripens upon my terraces; I enjoy the pensive shade of the Italian ruins which are in my gardens ; I like to shoot crocodiles, and talk with the Sphinx standing upon the shores of the Nile which flows through my domain. = I greatly admire the Alps, seen distinctly from the windows of " Castles in Spain ;" I delight in the taste of the southern fruit ripening upon my terraces; I enjoy the pensive shade of the Italian ruins in my gardens ; I like to shoot crocodiles, and talk with the Sphinx upon the shores of the Nile flowing through my domain. Direction. — Notice how, by the use of adv^erb and adjective clauses and prepositional phrases, these sentences reduce to a single beautiful sentence: — The confusion of unloading was long over. The ship lay at the wharf. All her voyages seemed to be ended. Then I dared to creep timorously along the edge of the dock. The water of its huge shadow was black. The risk of falling into it was great. I placed my hand upon the hot hulk. I thus established a mystic and exquisite connection with Pacific islands, with palm groves, and with passionate beauties. These beauties the palm groves embower. I established a mystic and exquisite connection with jungles, Bengal tigers, pepper, and the crushed feet of Chinese fairies. = Long after the confusion of unloading was over, and the ship lay atr the wharf, as if all voyages were ended, I dared to creep timorously along the edge of the dock, and, at great risk of falling mto the black water of its huge shadow, placed my hand upon the Composition of Sentences. 55 hot hulk, and so established a mystic and exquisite connection with Pacific islands, with palm groves, and all the passionate beauties they embower; with jungles, Bengal tigers, pepper, and the crushed feet of Chinese fairies. Direction. — Contract each of these groups of sentences to a single sentence: The sails hung ready. The ship lay in the stream. Busy little boats darted about her. Puffing little steamers darted about her. They clung to her sides. They paddled away from her. They led the way to the sea. In this manner minnows might pilot a whale, Balthazar Gerard was the murderer of Prince William of Orange. William was surnamed William the Silent. Gerard had dropped his pistols. He dropped them on the spot. The spot was where he had committed the crime. Upon his person were found two bladders. These bladders were provided with a piece of pipe. With these bladders he had intended to assist himself across the moat. Beyond this moat a horse was wait- ing for him. My grandfather Titbottom called me into his presence. I was a mere child. He said he should soon be gone. He wanted to leave with me some memento of his love. These spectacles are valuable. He knew of nothing more valuable. Your grand- mother brought them from her native island. She arrived here one summer morning, long ago. Those days are long past now. But still I walk upon the Battery. I look towards the Narrows. Beyond them there are many friends. I know this. They are separated fromajne by the sea. Of these I would so gladly know. Of these I so rarely hear. Directioo.— Expand the two absolute phrases, the two phrases beginning with participles, and the explanatory phrase below into clauses, contract the adjective clause, and rewrite the sentence: — And then—Hom.er's frenzy of youthful adventure once appeased, 56 Invention. his knowledge embracing everything that was known in his age — the image of the beautiful Ionia once more arose to his vision, and a home-longing, like that of Odysseus, sitting on the rocky- shore of Calypso's isle, yearning for Ithaca, the dwelling of his wife and son, compelled him to return. Direction. — Expand six of the participles and participle phrases and one prepositional phrase, in this sentence, into clauses, five of which shall be adjective clauses and two adverb, and see how the unity and clearness of the sentence are marred: — The history of the preceding events is the history of wrongs inflicted and sustained by various tribes, which, indeed, all dwelt on English ground, but which regarded each other v/ith aversion such as has scarcely ever existed between communities separated by physical barriers ; for even the mutual animosity of countries at war with each other is languid when compared with the ani- mosity of nations which, morally separated, are yet locally inter- mingled. Direction. — See into how many sentences, simple and complex, you can resolve the preceding sentence. Direction, — Change the noun clauses and participle phrase below to infinitive phrases, and infinitive phrase to a participle, and then see into how many sentences you can resolve the whole: — Bishop Jewel declared that the clerical garb was a stage dress, and promised that he would spare no labor to extirpate such degrading absurdities, while Archbishop Grindal long hesitated about accepting a mitre. Direction. — Change the proper connectives and form two compound sentences out of the first group of sentences below, and three out of the second groups: — Charles II. bestowed much. He never gave spontaneously He neither enjoyed the pleasure nor acquired the fame of be- neficence. It was painful to him to refuse. The poet uses words. We observe certain phenomena. We Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs. 5 7 cannot explain them into material causes. Logicians may rea- son about abstractions. We therefore infer something not ma- terial. The great mass of men must have images. They are merely the instruments of his art, not its objects. We can de- fine it only by negatives. Of this something we have no idea. The tendency of the multitude in all ages to idolatry can be ex- plained on no other principle. We can reason about it only by symbols. Direction. — Change these sentences as you need, and fit them together into three complex sentences, one of which shall contain an adjective clause, one an adverb clause of condition and the other a clause of purpose, a clause of manner and a noun clause : — He pries into all the circumstances and conditions of her life. It was a loathsome herd. Could despondency and asperity be excused in any man } He deals with her austerely. It could be compared to nothing but the rabble of Comus. Mr. Mure scru- tinizes every expression in Sappho's poems. He does this for the purpose of detecting confessions of guilt. They might have been overlooked in Milton. John Knox dealt with poor Queen Mary as austerely. Almost compels us to the belief that Scotch Presbyterians have an invincible antipathy to handsome women. Direction. — Give the rules for your punctuation LESSON 21: SYNTHESIS OF SENTENCES INTO PARAGRAPHS. You are now acquainted with all the parts of a speech, and have used them in their various ofifices and relations in the sentence. You have familiarized yourselves with word, phrase, and clause modifiers, simple, compound, 5 8 Invention. and complex, and have constructed sentences of all kinds, simple, complex, and compound. You have learned all the ways of contracting complex and compound sentences to simple, of expanding simple sentences to complex and compound, and of substituting one word, phrase, or clause for another — in fine, you have been brought face to face with the sentence, and have learned to construct it in all its varieties. The Paragraph. — Having put words, phrases, and clauses together to form sentences, we must learn to join sentences together to form paragraphs. We say join sefitences together ; for, just as words, phrases, and clauses are more or less closely united in the sentence in mean- ing and in position, excluding from, or admitting, be- tween them a comma, a dash, a semicolon, or a colon, so sentences separated by a period or other terminal point may be connected — the bond which unites them being their common relation to the thought, or point, which jointly they develop and express. Sentences thus related and grouped together form what we call a paragraph. Sometimes a single sentence, sufficiently developing the point, forms a paragraph. The paragraph is exceeding- ly useful, if not absolutely necessary, in announcing to the reader where the development of a point begins and ends. The paragraph is indicated to the eye by begin- ning a little to the right of the marginal line of the page. James II. at the moment of his accession was in doubt whether the kingdom would peacefully submit to his authority. The Exclusionists, lately so powerful, might rise in arms against him. He might be in great need, as was his brother, of French money and French troops. He was, therefore, during some days, con- tent to be a sycophant and a mendicant. He humbly apologized to Louis XIV. for daring to call Parliament together without the consent of the French government. He begged hard for a Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs. 59 French subsidy. He wept with joy over the French bills of ex- change. He sent to Versailles a special embassy charged with assurances of his gratitude, attachment, and submission. Direction. — Note the facts which the paragraph above contains, and how they are expressed. I James the First's doubt. 2. The possible rising of the Ex- clusionists. 3. The King's possible need. 4. What he was con- tent to be. 5. His apology — to whom and for what. 6. His peti- tion. 7. His joy. 8. His embassy — whither and for what sent. Direction. — State and number the facts in these paragraphs, and then, without reference to the text, develop these facts into paragraphs of your own: — ■ For many years after the Restoration, the Puritans were the theme of unmeasured invective and derision. They were ex- posed to the utmost licentiousness of the press and of the stage, at the time when the press and the stage were most licentious. They were not men of letters ; they were, as a body, unpopular; they could not defend themselves; and the public would not take them under its protection. They were, therefore, abandon- ed, without reserve, to the tender mercies of the satirists and dramatists. The ostentatious simplicity of their dress, their sour aspect, their nasal twang, their stiff posture, their long graces, their Hebrew names, their contempt of human learning, and their detestation of polite amusements were, indeed, fair game for the laughers. The Puritans recognized no title to superiority but the favor of God ; and, confident of that favor, they despised all the accom- plishments and all the dignities of the world. If they were un- acquainted with the works of philosophers and poets, they were deeply read in the oracles of God. If their names were not found in the registers of heralds, they were recorded in the Book of Life. If their steps were not accompanied by a splen- did train of menials, legions of ministering angels had charge over them. Their palaces were not made with hands ; their dia- dems crowns of glory which should never fade away. On the 6o Invention. rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests they looked down with contempt ; for they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious treasure and eloquent in a more sublime language, nobles by the right of an earlier creation, and priests by the im- position of a mightier hand. Direction, — See into what sort of clause you can expand the phrase beginning with confident ; into what phrases you can contract the three clauses beginning with if, and into what word the clause beginning with which. When More heard the voice of one who was known to have boggled hard at the oath a little while before, calling loudly and ostentatiously for drink, he only noted him with his peculiar humor. " He drank," More supposed, " either from dryness or from sadness" or " guod z'lle 7iotus Pontificz." More was called in again at last, but only repeated his refusal. It was in vain that Cranmer plied him with distinctions which perplexed even the subtle wit of the ex-chancellor ; he remained unshaken and passed to the Tower. For the moment, even Cromwell shrank from his blood. More remained a prisoner, while new victims were chosen to overawe the silent but widely spread opposition to the bill of Supremacy. A mock trial was hardly necessary for the condemnation of More or for that of Fisher, the most learned of the prelates who had favored the New Learning, and who had been imprisoned, on the same charge, in the Tower. The old bishop approached the block with a book of the New Testament in his hand. He opened it, at a venture, ere he knelt, and read, "This is life eternal to know Thee, the only true God." His death was soon followed by that of More. On the eve of the fatal blow, he moved his beard carefully from the block. " Pity that should be cut," he was heard to mutter with a touch of the old, sad irony, " that has never committed treason." Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs. 6 1 LESSON 22. SYNTHESIS OF SENTENCES INTO PARAGRAPHS. Direction. — Construct out of these groups of bald facts paragraphs of three sentences each, placing the facts in their proper relation and supplying what is needed, and write on the first line of each paragraph the topic it develops: — The same elements in flesh as in flour. In animals as in plants. The vegetable draws water and minerals from the soil. Absorbs and incorporates the air. Eaten, it sustains the life of animals. Hence animals gain the substances the vegetable first acquired. The vegetable receives from the animal the air thrown out in respiration. Lives and grows upon it. The ani- mal itself becomes its food. The very bones made to increase the growth of vegetables. These eaten by the animal, the ani- mal eats its own bones and lives on its own flesh. Organs and tissues of the body continually changing. Atoms present one hour gone the next. When gone, the body wasted. Unless renewal attends the process. Renewing substance must be of the same nature as the wasted. Bone renewed by bone. Flesh by flesh. Body always changing, yet the same. This duty assigned to food. Supplies to each part same kind of material lost. The amount of vital action shown by respiration and pulsa- tion. At night, low and tolerably uniform. High and varying during the day. Large increase after a meal. Decrease, before the next meal. Increase followed by decrease, due to food, proves its influence temporary. After a sufficient interval, another supply of food necessary. But the body not a passive agent. Not entirely subject to the action of food. No supply could prevent decrease of vital action at night. Nor make them equal night and day. Direction. — Construct out of this group of bald facts two paragraphs. 62 InvenHo7i, supplying what is needed to make the narrative smooth and flowing, and write on the first line of each paragraph the topic developed: — Was in my working dress. Best clothes not yet arrived. Was dirty from my journey. Pockets stuffed with shirts and stock- ings. Knew no soul or where to look for lodging. Fatigued with travelling and want of rest. Money, a Dutch dollar, and a shilling in copper. Shilling offered for my passage. Refused. Because I had rowed. Then I walked up the street. Gazed about. Hungry. Met a boy with bread. Had made many a meal on bread. Inquired where he got it. Went to the baker's. Second street. Asked for biscuit. Meant such as we had in Boston. Were none in Philadelphia. Asked for a three-penny loaf. Had none. Ignorant how cheap bread was. Ignorant of the names of his bread. Asked for three-penny worth of any sort. Three great, puffy rolls. Direction. — Construct out of this group of facts three paragraphs, keeping up the direct discourse as far as possible, and write, as directed above, the topics developed: — A pious Brahmin made a vow. Would sacrifice a sheep. Went forth to buy one. In his neighborhood, three rogues. Knew his vow. Laid a scheme. The first met him, and asked if he would buy a sheep. Had one fit for sacrifice. For that very purpose he came forth this day. The rogue opened a box. Brought out an unclean beast. An ugly dog. Wretch, callest thou that cur a sheep ? Truly, a sheep of the finest fleece and of the sweetest flesh. An offering acceptable to the gods. Friend, thou or I must be blind. The second confederate came up. Praised be the gods. Am saved the trouble of going to market for a sheep. What I wanted. For what wilt thou sell it } The Brahmin heard it. Mind wavered. Take heed what thou doest. No sheep. An unclean cur. Said the new comer. Art drunk or mad. A third confederate came near. Ask this man what the creature is. Will stand by what he says. Agreed. He called out, Stranger, what dost thou call this beast } Surely a fine sheep. Surely the gods have taken away my senses. Asked pardon of the owner. Bought it for a measure of rice and a Synthesis of Sentiences into Paragraphs. 63 pot of ghee. Offered it to the gods. Wroth at the unclean sacrifice. Smote him with a sore disease in all his joints. LESSON 23. SYNTHESIS OF SENTENCES INTO PARAGRAPHS. Direction. — Study this group of facts carefully, see what ones are related in meaning and can be united, form as many paragraphs as you think there should be, and write the topics as directed above: — A person is suddenly thrust into a strange position. Finds the place to fit him. Has committed a crime, perhaps. Sent to the State Prison. All the sharp conditions of the new life stamp themselves on his consciousness. Like a signet upon wax. Illustrated by an image. Did you ever see the soft- spoken, velvet-handed steam-engine? At the mint. Piston slides backward and forward. Lady slips her finger into and out of a ring. Lays one of its fingers on a bit of metal. A coin now. Will remember the touch. Tell a new race about it. Twenty centuries hence. So a great silent-moving misery puts a new stamp on us. In an hour. A moment. Impression sharp. Seems as if it had taken a life-time to engrave it. Been down to the Island. Deer-shooting. Island where .'^ No mat- ter. Splendid domain. Blue sea around it. Runs up into its heart. Boat sleeps like a baby in lap. Tall ships outside. Stripped to fight the hurricane. Storm stay-sails flying in rib- bons. Trees. Beeches. Oaks. Hung with moss. Bearded Druids, Some coiled in the clasp of grape-vines. Open patches. Sun gets in and goes to sleep. Winds come down finely sifted. Soft as swan's down. Rocks. Fresh-water lakes. Mary's lake. Crystal-clear. Full of flashing pickerel. Six pounds for break- fast. I did it. Direction. — Out of this group of facts construct as many paragraphs as you think there should be. 64 Invention. You will notice that the paragraphs are themselves related, because the topics which they develop are. When your work is done, write over them the general subject, or topic, treated, and the topic of each paragraph as directed above: — As early as 131 B. C, Metellus Macedonicus lived at Rome. Admired for his honorable domestic life. But he described marriage as an oppressive burden. Citizens would gladly be clear of it. Divorce became common. Cato parted from his wife. Her father consenting. Gave her to his friend Horten- sius. After friend's death, married her again. Marriage in- volving legal and religious sanctions disappeared. Those ad- mitting of easy separation became universal. Cicero divorced his wife. Had lived with her thirty years. Married a young woman of wealth. Divorced her. Seneca speaks of " noble" women. These reckoned time not by the number of the consuls. By the number of their successive husbands. Romans had a coarse appetite for food. Gluttony. Modern society affords no parallel. Two hundred and fifty dollars for a single fish. The mullet. Suppers extended far into the night. Guests inflamed with wine. Coarse revelry. No uncommon thing for a Roman gentleman to take an emetic. So might indulge his appetite again. Prolong the pleasures of the table. Roman law gave absolute power to slaveholder. Could beat, maim, kill his slave. Slave could own no property. Contract no marriage. When allowed to give testimony, examined under torture. Master murdered by a slave, all the slaves of his household crucified without mercy. Slaves brought from all directions. Largest numbers from Asia, Every Roman felt a pride in owning at least a few. Some, from ten to twenty thousand. A freedman. Had lost many slaves. But able at his death to leave 41 16. Among slaves were sometimes carpenters, secretaries, physicians, and architects. Nothing to prevent a drunken master from wreaking vengeance on his slave. Except pecuniary loss. Old slaves who could no longer work sold for what they would fetch. The Circus in Julius Caesar's time bad seats for 1 50,000 men. Titus added seats for 100,000 more. Later, were seats for 385,000. Foot-races. Feats upon horse-back. Chief thing Syjitkesis of Sentences into Pai^agraphs. 65 the chariot race. Several combatants put in. Chariots and horses owned by companies. Keenest excitement. Nobles, emperors, even women entered into the contests. Prostration of Roman dignity and virtue seemed complete. LESSON 24. SYNTHESIS OF SENTENCES INTO PARAGRAPHS AND OF PARAGRAPHS INTO A THEME. The Theme. — You have seen that just as words, phrases, and clauses may be joined in sentences, and sentences, jointly developing a topic, or thought, may be united into a paragraph, so paragraphs may be con- nected, standing one after another on the page, because they are related — the points, or thoughts, which they de- velop, being divisions of the one general subject, or topic. That which these paragraphs so related and so placed form is a composition, or theme. Direction. — Study carefully these facts, group them into two great paragraphs whose topics, written as before, shall be marked with Ro- man I. and II.; under these make as many sub-paragraphs as you think there should be, with their sub-topics marked with Arabic fig- ures, and write the subject of the theme at the top: — The tea-plant cultivated in China. Through about eleven degrees of latitude. On hillsides. At an elevation extending to 4,000 feet. Soil rich and deep. Drainage good. Sunlight abun- dant. Will grow in almost any temperate climate. Hencefarther north or south of the belt between 24° and 35°. Ground requires good cultivation. The old leaves becoming hard and tough, the old wood must be cut out, and new shoots produced. The tree re- mains useful a generation. The plants, standing five feet apart, 66 Invention. grow thirty or forty feet high. Stem a foot through. By prun- ing, kept down to a height of from three to five feet. Leaves not gathered till the third year. Number of pickings, four. Wet season, five. Interval from four to six weeks. Process, simple. Work done by women and children. Old and fibrous leaves left on the trees. Young leaves stripped by the hand. An inch or two of the soft and succulent stalk taken with them. A woman will gather from i6 to 20 lbs. of raw leaves in a day. Each plant will yield in the third season half a pound of raw leaves. Two years after, the yield vastly increased. Full grown leaves 5 to 9 incites long. Average yield about 320 lbs. of dried tea per acre. Four lbs. of green leaves make one of dried. Qualities of teas vary with time of picking. Next step that of drying and preserv- ing the leaves. Dried in pans. Pans heated with straw or char- coal. No smoke. Heat equally applied. Leaves m.oved by the hand. Vessel shaken. Rapid drying keeps the green color. Longer and slower drying and exposure to the air, fermentation setting in, produce black tea. The leaf is made supple for rolling, by the heat. The flavoring of tea is a well-known process. Car- ried on with the middle and inferior qualities. Effected by placing the tea leaves, while in the process of manufacture, in contact with the aromatic flowers of plants. Odors evanescent. Delicate and agreeable. Do not add to the chemical or dietetic value of the tea. Direction. — Study carefully these facts, thrown together promiscu- ously, sort and arrange them in six paragraphs, in their proper order, and write the general topic and the topic of each paragraph as usual: — Each kind of meat its own flavor. Tastes of different persons may be gratified by selection of different meats. Each animal is also cut up into joints. Different joints, or parts, of same animal have different flavors. Of the same person at different times also. Not only of such parts as are distinct in function, as the liver and the tongue. Flesh of all animals divided into two principal parts— fat and lean, in their separate state. There is also fatty matter mixed with the juices and tissues, not evident to the eye. Also of those parts whose functions are identical. Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs. 67 Flavor of all meats depends upon juices in the fibres. On mi- nute quantities of flavoring matter in the fat. The flavor of a leg of mutton differs from that of the shoulder. The propor- tions of fat and lean vary with the animal. Also with its con- dition when killed. On the oily and fatty matters in the juices in the meat. But both joints are composed of flesh, or muscle. Both have the same duty to perform. Fine quality of meat has abundant and full-flavored juices. Has also a considerable pro- portion of fatty matter. Hence the agreeableness of a variety of joints. Fat of an ox may be doubled by feeding. Ready for market, the fat of the ox is one-third the whole weight. Hence the preference of one joint over another. Is red and pulpy. Inferior meat is paler. The proportion of fat to lean much greater in the sheep and pig than in the ox. Least in calves. More fibrous. With but little proper flavor. Nutritive value of fat or lean much the same in all animals used as food. Fat con- sists of three elements in this proportion. Lean flesh deprived of fat consists of four elements, 'j'] parts in 100, of carbon. 1 1 of oxygen. 1 2 of hydrogen. A weight of lean meat from one animal should nourish the body as much as the same weight from another. But appetite plays an important part in nutrition. Nitrogen, carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen. Fat decomposing, carbon takes part of oxygen. Less relish of food followed by less digestion. Less digestion by less assimilation. Forms carbonic acid. Hy- drogen takes another part. Forms water. The absence of ni- trogen in fat. Its presence in lean. This, by less nutrition. Fat generates heat. Both fat and lean generate heat in the system. Deficiency of oxygen supplied by the inspired air. Heat is gen- erated by every chemical combination. Nitrogen enters into the composition of lean. Lean and not fat contains nitrogen. Lean and not fat forms muscle. 68 Invention. LESSON 25. SYNTHESIS OF SENTENCES INTO PARAGRAPHS AND OF PARAGRAPHS INTO A THEME. Direction. — Study carefully these facts, thrown together promiscu- ously, sort them, and group them into as many paragraphs, arranged in their proper order, as you think there should be, and write the general topic and the special topics as usual: — Dr. Cooper, of Albany, stated that Hamilton had de;clared himself opposed to Burr. Dr. C. repeated this in a public letter. Hamilton was jealous of his reputation for courage. Could not afford to seem to avoid danger. His early manhood passed in camps. Interval of two weeks between the challenge and the meeting. This was required by H. to finish important law busi- ness. During the last hours both parties wrote a few farewell lines. In no act does the difference between H. and B. show itself better than in these parting letters. Said that H. and Judge Kent had called B. a dangerous man not to be trusted with the government. His early fame had been won in the pro- fession of arms. A man of the world. H. was oppressed with the duties and responsibilities of his situation. His duty to his creditors. To his country. Went to White Plains to try causes. In the habit of staying at the house of a friend. Combatants met July ii, 1804. Place beneath the heights of Weehawken. The New Jersey side of the Hudson. H. was carried to the house of Mr. Bayard. News flew through the town. Sudden and tragic death produced universal sorrow. Was the leader of the bar. Intense excitement. Bulletins posted at the Tontine. Changed every hour. The usual resort then for such encounters. B. fired the moment the word was given. Could detail a yet more despicable opinion which H. had expressed of B. B. wrote a note asking H. for a denial of any expression justifying Dr. Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs. 69 C.'s assertion. Ball struck H. on the side. Reeled under the blow. Crowds gathered around Mr. Bayard's house. States- man who had given the law to American Commerce. An ac- complished soldier. The correspondence published, a storm of condemnation burst upon B. Indictments against him in N. Y. and N. J. Pistol discharged into the air. B. stepped forward with a gesture of regret, His nature revolted at the thought of taking life. Made his will. The last time he visited there, he said, " I shall probably never come here again." H. replied that he was ready to answer for any definite opinion he had uttered. H. had never discountenanced duelling. Had been engaged in the affair between Laurens and Lee. His own son had fallen in a duel. His second hurried him from the field. Visitors al- lowed to pass one at a time through the room. No hope of his re- covery. Screened him with an umbrella from sight. Everywhere the virtues and services of H. celebrated. Character of B. dis- played in dramatic contrast. Career extraordinary. Came to this country without fortune or friends. H. was a man of light frame. A disorder prevented the use of ordinary remedies. Too late to take shelter behind a general disapproval of a custom recognized by his professional brethren and countenanced by himself. H. presided at the annual banquet of the Society of Cincinnati. His manner gave no indication of the dreadful event impending. H. would have shown a higher courage by braving a brutal custom. But unjust to censure him for not showmg a courage displayed by no man of his day. H. and B. must be measured by their own standard, not by ours. B. re- iterated his demand in insolent terms. H. voluntarily stated that, in conversation with Dr. C, he had not charged B. with dishonorable conduct. Distressed lest from his estate his debts could not be paid. Committed his wife to the protection of his children. Besought them to vindicate his memory by making up any deficiency. Compared to Rich. HL, to Catiline, to Saul. Feeling not confined to this country. Retained his composure to the last. His seven children came into the room. One of the most influential members of the Constitutional Convention. Diffi- cult in history to find one so eminent in three departments so un- like. Surpassed by no statesman of his generation. B. went to 'O Invention, Paris in 1810. Requested an interview with Talleyrand. Closed his eyes. Gave them one look. Expired at two o'clock the day after the duel. B.'s parting letters to his daughter Theodosia and husband occupied with directions concerning property and papers. Tone of ordinary correspondence. B. changed ground and peremptorily insisted that H. should deny ei>cr having made remarks from which anything derogatory to himself could be drawn. This demand unjustifiable. No word in them such as an affectionate father or patriotic citizen would use. No mis- givings as to the propriety of his conduct. The French states- man could not refuse him an interview. " Say to Col. Burr that I will receive him to-morrow, but tell him, also, that H.'s likeness always hangs over my mantel. It showed that B.'s desire was to goad his adversary to the field. He refused. A challenge followed. No whisper of regret at what he was about to do. A few lines of graceful compliment to his daughter. Burr did not call. When in England, he became intimate with the great Bentham. Requests Theodosia to acquire a critical knowledge of Latin and English and all branches of natural philosophy. In his " Memoirs and Correspondence," Bentham alludes to the acquaintance. Says B. gave him an account of the duel. B. was sure of being able to kill H. " So I thought it little better than a murder." LESSON 26. SYNTHESIS OF SENTENCES INTO PARAGRAPHS AND OF PARAGRAPHS INTO A THEME. Direction. — Do with these sentences as directed with those in the preceding Lesson, but use the Roman and the Arabic notation in marking the paragraphs: — It was on Sunday, the memorable 7th of Oct., 1571. Place, the entrance to the Gulf of Lepanto. Before coming within cannon shot, the Turkish admiral fired a challenge. Answered Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs. 7 1 by a gun from the galley of Don John. The two fleets, the Moslem, or Ottoman, and the Christian, met. Ali Pasha, com- mander in chief, in the centre. A second gun, A second an- swer. Action began on the left wing of the allied, or Christian, fleet. Mehemet Siroco desired to turn this wing. Mehemet Siroco, viceroy of Egypt, on his right. Uluch Ali, dey of Al- giers, the redoubtable corsair of the Mediterranean, on his left. Christian fleet commanded by Don John of Austria, natural brother of Philip II. Commanded in the centre with 63 gal- leys. A death-like stillness followed. Men held their breath. Knew the soundings better than Barberigo did. Knew there was water enough between B. and the shore. The left wing un- der Barberigo, a noble Venetian. The Genoese Andrev/ Doria, a name of terror to the Moslems, with 64 galleys on the right. A reserve of 35 galleys in the rear under the brave Marquis of Santa Cruz. Day magnificent. Sky cloudless. A light breeze playing. Nearing noon. Not less than 120,000 men in Turkish fleet. Spread out in regular half moon. 250 royal galleys, numbers of smaller vessels in the rear. Succeeded in doubling on his enemy. So the Christian left was between two fires. At a disad- vantage. Yells from the Turkish armada. The customary Moslem war-cry. Meanwhile combat in the centre under Don John and Ali Pasha. Twice the Spaniards boarded. Twice repulsed. Superiority in the use of firearms gave them the ad- vantage. Incessant fire of artillery and musketry. Different scene on board the Christian galleys. Don John was standing on the prow of the Real, awaiting the conflict. Eight Venetian galleys went to the bottom. More captured. The brave Bar- berigo, fighting without defensive armor, wounded in the eye by an arrow. The trumpets sounded to the third assault. More successful. Threw themselves into Turkish galleys. Met by Janissaries as before. He knelt. Raised his eyes to heaven. Fight still lingered on the right. Uluch Ali attempted Siroco's manoeuvre. Prayed to the Almighty to be with his people that day. Example followed throughout the fleet. Battle of Le- panto more sanguinary than any sea-fight of modern times. Raged four hours. Ali Pasha led them on. Struck by a mus- ket ball. Stretched senseless on the gangway, The voice of 72 Invention. their commander missed. Doria foresaw his movement. Ex- tended his line so far to the right as to expose the centre. Vul- nerable point detected by the eagle eye of Uluch Ali. Officers and men fell on their knees. Turned their eyes to the consecrated banner, floating from the Real. Borne to his cabin. But the Venetians gathered courage from despair. By incredible efforts beat off their enemies. Became in turn the assailants. Carried one vessel after another. Safe to estimate the Turkish loss at 24,000 slain and 5,000 prisoners. The armada annihilated. Af- ter the battle, sky began to be overcast. Storm arising. Swooped down. Sunk galleys. Carried off the great Capitana of Malta. Don John sought shelter in the neighboring port of Petala. Put up a petition like their commander's. Received absolution from the priests. Rose from their knees WMth new strength. The Capuchin with uplifted crucifix led to the attack. Christian galley-slaves broke their fetters. Joined their countrymen against their masters. Overpowered, and threw down their arms. Decks loaded with the dead and dying. Beneath them was discovered Ali Pasha, wounded, but not mortally. Of the 250 galleys, not more than 40 or 50 escaped. Proofs of Don John's kindly temper experienced even by the enemy. Among the prisoners were two sons of Ali Pasha, one 17, the other 13. Before he arrived the tempest began to mutter. One cut off his head, and raised it on a pike. Banner of the crescent pulled down, and that of the cross run up. Welcomed with a shout of victory. Led into the presence of Don John, they fell on the deck before him. Among the chief conquests were 1 2,000 Chris- tian captives chained to the oar, who with tears streaming down their faces blessed their deliverers. Santa Cruz saw the critical condition of Doria. Dashed into the midst. Fell like a thun- derbolt on the Algerine galleys. Allied loss comparatively small. Less than 8,000. Darkness was on the water. Siroco's vessel was sunk. Extricated from the water to perish by the sword. He raised them up, and affectionately embraced them. Treated them according to their rank. Barberigo, lingering in agony, hearing of Siroco's defeat and death, exclaimed, "I die contented." Expired. Darkness rendered more visible by the blazing wrecks. Storm raged 24 hours. Beset on all sides, The Preparalioji oj a Frainczuork. j^) Uluch Ali abandoned his prizes. Cut loose from the Capitana. Richest apparel given them. Table served with delicacies. Courier sent to Constantinople to assure friends of their safety. Threw out signals for retreat. Stood towards the north with all the canvas left him. Gave chase. Fleet rode safely at an- chor in the harbor of Petala. Remained there three days longer. Hoped to intercept him at a rocky headland, jutting far out into the sea. Succeeded in obtaining their liberation from the pope. Elder died at Naples of a broken heart. Younger sent home with three attendants, for whom he had an especial regard. Some few vessels stranded. But with 40 or 50 he doubled the headland. Stood out to sea. His white sails, like a flock of Arctic fowl, the last thing visible. LESSON 27. THE PREPARATION OF A FRAMEWORK. In the preparation of a theme, you have seen that sev- eral things must be done. A subject must be chosen. Facts forming the subject-matter of the theme must be found. They must be grouped. They must be grouped under the sub-topics into which the general topic, or subject of the theme, is resolved. They must then be wrought into thoughts, these thoughts must be expressed in sentences, these sentences framed into paragraphs, and these paragraphs arranged upon the page. In every step of this work, rhetoric can aid the pupil, but it can only aid. It can direct the pupil to the .choice of a subject and place him in the happiest relation with it ; and can lead him on in such wise that he will find the most and the best matter in it, will think, and express his thought in the most effective form. In this 74 Invention. sense, and this only, can rhetoric teach one invention, or thinking, and the expression of thought. A Framework. — In preparing a framework there are several steps to be taken. We note these in their order. I. Selection of a Subject. — The first step is, of course, the selection of a subject. If the choice is left to you, find one which you can handle, one which has been fes- tering, so to speak, in your mind, one that is attractive to you, and will start you off on many lines of thought. A general subject, like War or Tca^ will be less sugges- tive than some branch or phase of it, as, for example. The Weapons used in War, or T/ie Preparation of Tea for Market. II. Accumulation of Material.— The next step is the accumulation of material. In this, a blank-book, upon which to note whatever facts or thoughts occur to you after the choice of a subject and before you begin to write, will be found useful, if not indispensable. If the subject is one upon which you must read or converse, do so ; but use what the reading or the conversation sug- gests rather than what you have read or heard. Think, think, and always put the thought into your own lan- guage. Remember that the more completely the com- position is yours in thought and in word, the greater is the good its construction does you and the higher the value you yourself will place upon it. III. Construction. — The third step is the construction, out of your material, of the framework, or skeleton, of your theme. By this we mean the finding and arranging of the leading thoughts, or points, or heads, which you have been writing as the special topics of the paragraphs. Upon no part of your work more than upon this will the merit of your composition or its lack of merit depend. Take time, and take thought for it. The Preparation of a Framework. 75 1. Search your material for the leading thoughts, or points. — If nothing noted down seems to you, as it stands, sufficiently inclusive, study to see what these or those jottings point to as broad enough to bracket them. Be certain, before you cease this work, that you have found all the general thoughts into which, as it seems to you, the subject should be resolved. 2. Study these points with care. — Let no point disguised in different words appear twice, let no two points cover the same ground in part. Raise nothing to the rank of a topic which may properly stand under one already found! Cast out any point that on further thought seems irrelevant. Avoid a tedious multiplica- tion of points. Study to see what ones may be spared with good effect. This matter of co-ordination and sub- ordination requires the nicest discrimination. It is the point in which essays, sermons, speeches — the efforts of adults — are open to criticism, 3. Concentrate attention upon the arrangement of these points. — There are many illogical orders in which they might be arranged, there is always at least one proper order in which they should stand. Find it. It would, for instance, presuming, as we did, that the question at issue was understood, have been illogical not to have begun the theme of Lesson 26 with the account of the forces engaged and their disposition on that memorable occasion. Nor could you properly have delayed till after the battle what took place before it. If the fight began on the left, that must be spoken of before you described the struggle in the centre or that on the right. The losses on either side had to follow the battle, and the storm both. Don John's clemency fitly closed the whole. Perhaps no one of these points need be 76 Inve7itio7i, exhausted in a single paragraph, but the order in which they should be taken up is fixed. In every kind of discourse, the question of order is vital. No point to the clear understanding of which, to feeling the full force* of which, a knowledge of some other point would have* to be presumed should precede that other. And thi^ simple rule one must regard whether as a pupil he is writing a composition, as a law- yer he is making out a brief, as a preacher he is plan- ning a sermon, or as a statesman he is preparing a speech. So necessary is a fitting framework for the structure of a theme — a skeleton sustaining and giving shape to the body — that we shall require further work upon it here. Direction. — Prepare accordins^ to this model, but without slavish imitation of it, the framework of a theme upon each of these subjects, marking the leading co-ordinate points with Roman characters, co- ordinate subdivisions of these with Arabic, and subdivisions of these with small letters: — Model. — The Good a Debating Society does its Members. I. The good it does them in preparing for the debate. a. In analyzing the sub- ject. b. In selecting the strong- 1. It exacts vigorous thinking \ est points. c. In coining thoughts to establish these points. 2. It adds to their knowledge by the wide reading it com- pels. 3. It teaches them to defend the truth they have espoused. 4. It teaches toleration by showing them that there are unanswerable arguments on either side. The Preparation of a Framework. yy II. The good it does them during the progress debate. of the I. It is an intense stimulant a. In that it furnishes op- position. I), In exciting hope of victory. c. In sliarpening wits to detect error. d. In compelling a vigor- ous defense. 2. It gives them self-command while under fire. 3. It teaches them a modest estimate of their abilities. 4. It teaches them courtesy to opponents. 5. It corrects their opinions, and widens their view. 6. It gives them command of their vocabulary. 7. It is a rhetorical and logical exercise in composition. 8. It teaches them something of Parliamentary practice. 1. What the Winds do. 2. October Woods. The teacher should exact the most careful attention of his pupils to the co-ordination and subordination of points, requiring them to use the Roman, the Arabic, and the literal notations, as above. Their whole work should be criticised rigidly by the teaching of this Les- son. The teacher should allow for individuality ; should not insist that their analyses must conform each to the others and all to his. Out of all the points presented let him prepare one framework each day that shall be as nearly exhaustive and perfect as possible. Let him talk with his pupils, asking and giving reasons for every step. Let him insist that they shall carry this kind of work over into the preparation of ordinary composi- tions, or themes. If the pupils need more drill than these Lessons furnish, the teacher can easily supply subjects and continue the exercise. If three subjects are too many for a lesson, let him assign fewer. 78 Inve7ition. LESSON 28. ANALYSIS OF SUBJECTS. The wisdom of treading the steps taken in leading up to the analysis of subjects and the preparation of frame- works — the finding of the subject-matter of discourse — we hope is by this time apparent. The resolution of the subject could not be taught without thoroughly ac- quainting the pupil with the nature and office of a para- graph ; the paragraph could not be explained without familiarizing the pupil with the sentence ; and the sen- tence could not be understood by him without his seeing that it was the embodiment of thought. And so we have attempted to teach what thought is and how it is formed ; how the sentence expressing it may grow up from two or three words to forms most complex and in- tricate, with words, phrases, and clauses in myriad com- binations, and how by contraction, expansion, and sub- stitution almost any sentence may be transformed ; how sentences may combine into paragraphs, and why they must ; and how the making of paragraphs compels the pupil to brood over his subject and bring to light the great thoughts, which, fitly joined, form the frame of the structure he is to build. In addition to what was said in the Lesson upon the Preparation of a Framework, it may be serviceable to add that in forming frameworks upon Narrative or Descriptive Subjects, real or fictitious, the pupil should be careful to select only the salient, the rep- resentative, points. These, arranged in their natural Analysis of Subjects. 79 order, carry with them the minor points. Multiplicity confuses. The outline fully and clearly presented, the more the reader or hearer can easily supply, and is left to supply, the better. Argumentative Subjects.— Resolve such subjects into all possible points, and then use great discretion in se- lecting such as are cardinal ; such as, if fitly developed, establish beyond question the conclusion you seek to prove. Here, perhaps, more than elsewhere, the matter of arrangement is vital. If, for example, a man were accused of burning his neighbor's house and were brought to trial, all evidence and the arguments based upon it going to show that he was near the building at the time of the burning, or that his clothes bore marks of his having done the deed, would have little weight with the jury unless preceded by proof that he was in- terested in the removal of the building or that he hated his neighbor, and that his character was such that he would not scruple to commit the crime if a fit opportu- nity offered. All circumstantial proof of the arson would be discounted, if not set aside, by the ignorance of the jury that the accused had any motive to commit the deed, and was without principle to restrain him. What Whately calls arguments from cause to effect, ar- guments accounting for anything, assigning the cause of it, should precede circumstantial proof, arguments of sign, arguments from effect to conditio?!. Direction. — Prepare the framework of a theme on each of these subjects: — 1. What should we Read for? 2. Cloud Scenery. 3. The Story of a Pebble. 8o hiventiou. LESSON 29. ANALYSIS OF SUBJECTS. Direction. — Prepare the framework of a theme on each of these subjects: — i. The Effects of Clearing away the Forests. 2. The Battle of Bunker Hill. 3. Travel by Rail and by Steamer. LESSON 30, ANALYSIS OF SUBJECTS. Direction. — Prepare the framework of a theme on each of these subjects: — 1. A Murdered B. 2. Ancient and Modern Warfare Com- pared. 3. Nature's Sounds. o H Jz; > A SCHEME FOR REVIEW. Definition and Vindication of Rhetoric (Lesson i). Definition of Invention and of Thought (Lesson 2). Simple Sentence with Simple, Compound, and Complex Modifiers (Lessons 2-4. and 11). Complex Sentence with the Ad- | jective Clause (Lessons 5. '. ^- Restrictive. 9. and II). \ -■ U" restrictive. A Scheme for Review. 81 Complex Sentence with the Ad- verb Clause (Lessons 6, 7 9, and 11). Complex Sentence with the Noun Clause (Lessons 8, 9, and 1 1). 1. Time. 2. Place, 3. Degree. 4. Manner. 5. Cause. 6. Reason. 7. Condition. 8. Purpose. 9. Concession. 1. Subject. 2. Object Complement. 3. Attribute Comp. 4. Explan. Modifier. 5. Principal Term of Prep. Phrase. 1. Clauses in the Same Line of Thought. 2. Clauses Adversative. 3. One Expressing a Consequence of the other. 4. One Expressing an Inference from the other. Sentences with Compound and Complex Clauses (Lessons 12 and 13). Substitution and Contraction (Lessons 14-17). Expansion and Substitution (Lessons 18-20). Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs (Lessons 21-23). Synthesis of Sentences into Paragraphs and of Paragraphs into a Theme (Lessons 24-26). Preparation of a Framework (Lesson 27). Analysis of Narrative, Descriptive, Fictitious, and Argu- mentative Subjects (Lessons 27-30). Capital Letters and Punctuation (Lessons 2-6, 8-10, 12 and 13). Compound Sentence (Lessons 10 and I \\. QUALITIES OF STYLE. LESSON 31. PERSPICUITY. Thus far we have been considering' the thought, the subject-matter of discourse, one of the two things with which rhetoric is concerned. In doing this we have been forced to deal with the sentence and the paragraph, but we have dealt with them only as the necessary forms in which thought must be expressed. You have been made familiar with the various kinds of sentences, have learned to construct them in all their varieties and to com- bine them into paragraphs. But you have learned noth- ing of the qualities which should belong to them, which everything written or spoken should have to make it the happy instrument of expression, and so you have learned nothing of style proper. To this great department of rhetoric we have now come. Style. — By style we mean the manner in which the thought is expressed in words. Every one has his man- ner of expressing thought, just as he has a cast of feat- ures, qualities of voice, and a carriage of body, peculiar to himself. Into every one's style, at least three elements should enter and determine it. I. The Topic. — Just as a piece expressing various pas- sions demands of the reader a varying pitch and stress, a varying rate of movement, and different tones of voice, 84 Qitalitics of Style — Perspicuity. so various topics require of the writer various styles — the topic entering into the style and helping to deter- mine it. One writing on different subjects will not, then, write alike, if he writes naturally. " The perfectly endowed man will unconsciously write in all styles," says Herbert Spencer. II. The Writer's Individuality. — Room for the man himself is always to be found in his style. His temper- ament, tastes, attainments, culture — everything mental that distinguishes him as an individual — may be ex- pressed in his use of imagery, his choice of words and his marshalling and articulation of them in the sentence, in the cast of his paragraphs — in all that goes to the mak- ing of style. It is not the business of rhetoric to rob one's style of this element. It should only wear down the sharp angles and subdue the writer's peculiarities, so that his style shall be free from mannerisms — every- thing offensively characteristic of him. And this is done by the element of III. Authority. — The principles which eminent writ- ers have consciously or unconsciously observed fur- nish rhetoric the lessons it is to teach, and point out to the pupil the paths he may follow. What they have done is permissible to him, what they have found they could not safely do is unlawful. And this element enters largely into all style that becomes classic, putting a curb upon the author's eccentricities, and becoming a spur to every effort made for the perfecting of his style. The first cardinal quality of style is Perspicuity. — Perspicuity is distinctness of expression, transparency. Our thought should be seen through our words, as are twigs through their coating of ice after a cold rain in winter. What the air washed clean of smoke and vapor and dust is to the trees and the rocks of dis- Author s iMaslcry of his Subject. 85 tant hills, bringing them near and into sharp distinct- ness, that should our language be to the thoughts it contains. Since we write to communicate something, our purpose is defeated if we are not clear, we might better have spared our poor labor. It is a duty which everyone owes the reader or hearer to speak not. simply so that he can be understood but so that he cannot fail of being understood. One has no more right to take another's time and energy in a hunt for the meaning than he has to take his fruit or his wares without com- pensation. To be perspicuous, then, is only to be honest. Perspicuity is to other qualities of speech what light is to colors— that by which they exist and are seen. Style that lacks it has no excellencies that are apparent, as the discourse has no thought that is obvious. A Relative Quality. — But it ought to be said that perspicuity is a relative quality. That is, what would be clear to one reader or hearer might not be to another of fewer years or less culture. Style perfectly plain to an audience of scholars might be obscure to men and women less intelligent, or to children, just as food easily digested by a man in vii^orous health might be indiges- tible to an invalid. In judging the style of any produc- tion, it is but fair to take into account the ability of those for whom it is intended. Perspicuity depends I. Upon the Author's Mastery of his Subject. — Much mistiness of expression is only the haze which partly hides the subject from the ivriter. The subject is seen by him but only in the gray dawn, it does not stand re- vealed in noon-day light. Remember that you cannot convey to others more than you thoroughly know, or make your thought clearer to them than it is to yourself. 86 Qualities of Style — Perspicuity. It will be a triumph if you can make them see what you see and see it as clearly. The work of accumulating material and of preparing frameworks, insisted on as preliminary to the writing, will be of great service here. It will supply you with the knowledge needed, and will distribute the facts, dropping each item into its place and so bringing order out of confusion. Seeing every- thing you need, and seeing it where it belongs, your task of making it apparent to others should be compara- tively eas}^ II. Upon his Use of Words. — This subject, which will run through many Lessons, must be subdivided. 1. Use Simple Words. — The simplest words in the En- glish language are those which belong to the mother- element of it — the Anglo-Saxon. These were never so highly compounded as were the Latin and Greek, and so are simpler ; since each word in a compound enters its meaning into that of the whole. They were never so highly inflected as were the Latin and Greek, and nearly all of the few inflections they once possessed fell off during the three centuries after the Norman Conquest ; and so these words are the shortest in the language, and for that reason the simplest. Besides, the Anglo-Saxon were the original words in our language, used to name the things known to our ancestors, and to denote the qualities, acts, states, and relations of these things. They are thus our household words, and are better un- derstood by all, even by the educated. Prefer them where you must express yourself with great simplicity. Direction. — Find Anglo-Saxon expressions, each a single word, where it is possible, for these good words of Latin and Greek origin, and use them in sentences of your own : — • Residence, ago:ravate, instruct, invalidate, circumspect, dis- Use of Words — Simple Words. 87 parage, atmosphere, occult, isothermal, deposed, extinguish, idiosyncrasies, termination, reside, accomplish, obliterate, ethereal, pabulum, aesthetic, supersede, interpolate, anomaly, tortuous, philanthropic, subordinate, simultaneous, deplorable, elimination, circumlocution. LESSON 32. USE OF WORDS — SIMPLE WORDS. Direction. — Rewrite this paragraph with great care, finding, where it is possible, Anglo-Saxon words for those italicized: — When an i7itellige7it foreigner co7nme)tces the study of English, he finds ^v (try page sprinkled with words whose /"iiw;/ imequivo- cally betrays a Greek or Latin origin, and he observes that these terms are words belonging to the dialect of the learned profes- sions, of theological discussion, of criticism, of elegant art, of moral and intellectual philosophy, of abstract science, and of the various branches of natural knowledge. He discovers that the words which he recognises as Greek and Latin and French have dropped those inflections which in their native tcse were indis- pensable to their intelligibility and gramniatical significa7ice ; that the 7nutual relations of vocables and the se7ise of the English period 2t.r& much more often deter 77ti7ted hy the. posit io7i oi the words than by their fortn, and in short that the sente7ice is built up upon structural pri/u'iples wholly alie7i to those of the classi- cal languages, and compacted and held together by a class of words either unknown or very much less used in those tongues. He finds that ve7y many of the native 77ionosyllables are mere de- ter 77ii7iatives, pa7'ticles, auxiliaries, and relatives ; and he can hardly fail to i7ifer that all the i7itellectual part of our speech, all that co7icer7is our highest spiritual and temporal i7iterests is of alien birth, and that only the merest 77iachi7ic7y of gra77i77iar has been derived from a 7iative source. Further study would teach him that he had overrated the i7nporta7ice and relative 88 Qualities of Style — Perspicuity. a))iount of the foreign ingrcdioiis ; that many of our seemingly insignificant a:id barbarous consonantal monosyllables are preg- nant with the mightiest thoughts and alive with the deepest feeling ; tliit the language of the. purposes and the a^ections, of the will and of the heart, is genuine English born ; that the dia- lect of the market and the fireside is Anglo-Saxon ; that the vo- cabulary of the most impressive and ejfectii/e pulpit orators has been almost wholly drawn from the same/wf source ; that the advocate who would convince the technical judge or dazzle and confuse the jury speaks Latin; while he who would touch the better sensibilities of his audience or rouse the ?nultitude to vig- orous action chooses his words from the native speech of our ancioit fatherland ; that the domestic tongue is the language of passion and persuasion, Xhe foreign, of authority or rhetoric and debate; that we may not only frame single sentences h\\X.?,^Q.2M. for hours without employing a single imported word ; and finally that we possess the ottire volume of revelation in the truest, clearest, aptest form in which hitma?t ingenuity has made it ac- cessible X.o modern man, and yet with a vocabulary wherein, saving proper names and terms not in their 7iature translatable, scarce seven in the hundred are derived from ?iny foreign source. This eloquent passage from George P. Marsh points out the service to which the native and to which the im- ported words in our language are put, and at the same time illustrates it. It will bear close study. Few writers, however, draw so largely upon the words of foreign origin as he has done here. Use of Words — Propriety and Precision. 89 / LESSON 33. USE OF WORDS— DIFFICULT WORDS, PROPRIETY AND PRECISION. The thought of a sentence may be largely or even wholly obscured by the excessive use of long and alien words. Direction.— Study these sentences till you understand them, and then rewrite them in simple language: — I. Diminutive and defective slave, reach my corps-coverture immediately. 'Tis my complacency that vest to have to en- sconce my person from frigidity. 2. Bayard Taylor represented the later tendencies toward the application of a cosmopolitan culture to American literature. 3. The aggregation Qf bioplas- tic germs evidences^an irresistible tendency to correlate the molecules in inve^/e ratio to the capillary process of differentia- tion. 4. An, or a, used in a general sense to denote an indi- vidual member of a class or species or genus in all other respects indeterminate, is called an indefinite article. 5. He felt the full force of that sublunary equipoise that seemed evermore to hang suspended over the attainment of long-sought and uncom- mon felicity. 6. The last of men was Dr. Johnson to have abet- ted squandering the delicacy of integrity by multiplying the la- bors of talents. 7. He was assaulted during his precipitated return by the rudest fierceness of wintry elemental strife, through which with bad accommodations and innumerable ac- cidents he became a prey to the merciless pangs of the acutcst spasmodic rheumatism. 8. Language, or speech, is the utter- ance of articulate sounds rendered significant by usage for the expression and communication of thoughts — articulate sounds 90 Qualities of Style — Pei^spieziity. being those which are formed by the opening and closing of the organs. The closing or approximation of the organs is an articulation, or jointing. 2. Use Words with Propriety and with Precision.— Use words with the meanings they have in good authors, and use such as express precisely your ideas — the sen- tence fitting the thought perfectly and conveying it ex- actly. You are liable to choose the wrong word only when two or three words offer themselves which have some meaning in common, and which differ from each other only in particulars. Such words, coming sometimes all from the Norman -French, the Latin, or the Greek, or the Anglo-Saxon, but oftener one from the Anglo-Saxon and another from one of these foreign elements, we call synonyms. Synonyms constantly diverge from each other in signification, that is, the ground of meaning held in common by the members of a pair or triplet is gradually diminishing^ while that held exclusively by each is constantly increasing. No better exercise to ceach a careful and discriminating use of words can be devised than practice in handling synonyms. Direction. — Give (i) the sources of the synonyms grouped below, if you can; (2) the meaning which they have in common; (3) the mean- ing which belongs to each separately; and (4) write sentences, using each word correctly: — Clear and distinct ; in and into ; healthy and healthful ; sea and ocean ; subtle and subtile ; artist and artisan ; lie and lay and their preterits ; sit and sat and their preterits ; shall and will and their preterits ; lodgings and apartments ; bring and fetch ; asylum and refuge ; two and couple ; applause and praise ; ances- tors and forefathers ; few and little ; fewer and less ; many ai*d much ; lease and hire ; propose and purpose. Use of If ^ords — Propriety and Precision, 9 1 LESSON 34. USE OF WORDS — PROPRIETY AND PRECISION. Direction.— Do with these synonyms as directed with those in Lesson 33: — On and upon ; defend and protect ; womanly and womanish ; this and that and their plurals ; the one and the other ; exceed and excel; hope and expect; fault and defect; who and which ; which and that ; learn and teach ; haste and hurry ; news and tidings ; high and tall ; thankful and grateful ; inability and disa- bility ; bonds and fetters ; abdicate and desert ; instruction and education ; apprehend and comprehend ; live and dwell ; insur- gent and rebel ; character and reputation ; occasion and oppor- tunity ; keep and preserve ; right and privilege ; sick and ill ; hinder and prevent; like and love; mind and intellect; apt and liable ; sensuous and sensual ; relations and relatives. LESSON 35. USE OF WORDS — PROPRIETY AND PRECISION. Direction. — Do with these synonyms as directed with those in Lesson 33: — Learning and wisdom; proud and vain; stout and strong; illegible and unreadable ; untruth and lie ; bough, branch, and twig ; pile and heap ; sex and gender ; gaze and stare ; faculty and capacity; deist and atheist; bleach, blanch, and whiten; certain and sure ; safe and secure : raise and rise ; allude and 92 Qitalitics of Style — Pcrspicidty. mention; feminine and efteminate; boyish and puerile ; genu- ine and authentic; fancy and imagination ; pity and sympathy ; pretty, handsome, and beautiful; right and just; jealousy and envy ; noted and notorious ; sin, vice, and crime ; religious and pious; stay and remain; warm and hot; answer and reply; bid and order; custom and habit; emigrant and immigrant. LESSON 30. USE OF WORDS — PROPRIETY AND PRECISION. Direction. — Do with these synonyms as directed with those in Les- son SSI- Brutal and brutish; brute and beast; price, cost, worth, and value ; peaceful and peaceable ; artery and vein ; sweat and per- spiration ; flock and herd ; interfere and interpose ; trustworthy and reliable ; enthusiasm and fanaticism ; surprised and aston- ished ; laconic and concise ; benevolence and beneficence ; leave, quit, and relinquish; tame and gentle; enough and sufficient; doubt, uncertainty, and suspense ; duty and obligation ; have and possess ; excuse and apology ; lovely and amiable ; flexible and pliable ; ductile and malleable ; blaze and flame ; awake and waken; soon, quickly, and speedily; cry and weep; vibrate and oscillate; tolerate and permit; temperance and abstinence ; hu- man and humane ; lack, want, and need ; exile and banish. Pupils should be held to this exercise till they have become critical in distinguishing between synonyms, and habitually careful in their use. It should be insist- ed that this care extend to all their recitations and exercises. The reactive effect of precision in the use of words will be seen in more exact and distinct thinking. Eberhard asks, " Who can transfer his thoughts with en- tire exactness of contour and significancy of accessory ideas who does not form them definitely ?'' Use of Words — Pcrsoiuil Pronouns. 93 LESSON 37. USE OF WORDS — PERSONAL PRONOUNS. 3. TJsE Personal Pronouns with Care.— Much obscu- rity arises from the careless use of ht\ s/ic, and //, in their several cases and numbers. It is impossible to tell which of many nouns the writer intends to be the ante- cedent — the word for which the pronoun stands— , and so it is impossible to know certainly what the writer's mean- ing is. Here arises that kind of obscurity which we call ambiguity. It is not that you cannot extract a meaning from the sentence, but that you can extract jna/iy mean- ings, and are in doubt which the author wishes you to take. If this ambiguity occurs, as it often does, in indirect quotation, it may be remedied by quoting the passage directly. In other cases avoid the pronoun by using the noun for which it stands ; change the form of the sen- tence, if need be, breaking it into parts and making each part a sentence. Direction. — Study these sentences to see how many and what meanings each might have, select that which you suppose the author intended, and recast so as to express that clearly: — I. Charles the First's duplicity was revealed to Cromwell by a letter of his to his wife which fell into his hands. 2. A sent the man to his neighbor, and he lent him the money he desired. 3. John asked his cousin to bring his hat, as he was going on an errand for his mother. 4. The servant promised her mistress that she would pay her debt. 5. The lion had a struggle with a man, and he killed him. 6. The earth seemed to be asking the 94 Qualities of Style — Perspicuity. moon if it thought that its neighbor, the sun, supposed that it needed its light. 7. When David came into the presence of Saul, he threw a javelin at him. 8. The girls asked the boys whether the books which they had in their hands were those they had seen in their desks. 9. Johnson went to Goldsmith, and found that his landlady had arrested him for debt, at which he was very angry. 10. They were persons of moderate intel- lects even before they were impaired by their passions. Direction. — Bring in as many sentences ambiguous through the careless use of personal pronouns, and free them from their ambiguity. LESSON 38. use of words — obsolete words, foreign words, and words newly coined. 4. Avoid Words and Constructions that have no GOOD Footing in the Language. — You learned in the in- troductory Lesson that usage is our authority in rhet- oric. In nothing is usage less open to question than in the department of words — in diction. Long ago the rhetorician Campbell said that use respecting words should be (i) reputable use — that of the majority of the best writers and speakers, as opposed to that of the un- cultivated ; (2) national use, as opposed to provincial and foreign ; and (3) present use, as opposed to obsolete and ephemeral. Rhetoricians since Campbell's day have ac- cepted the principle, as explained by him, and in turn have inculcated it. Campbell's Canons. — But sometimes good usage is so divided that it is impossible to tell which of two words Use of Words — Campbcir s Canons. 95 or phrases is supported by the best authority. To guide the pupil to a choice in such cases Campbell laid down five simple precepts, or canons, the substance of which we here give : — 1. Choose the word or phrase which has but one use or signification rather than that which has two or more. Take, as your adjective, extemporary in preference to ex- tempore^ since this is used as an adverb also ; and use ate and eaten for the preterit and participle instead of eat^ be- cause this is a form in the present. 2. Have regard, in your choice, to the analogy of the language. Use contemporary and not cotemporary^ since usually the noi con is retained before a consonant, and is dropped before a vowel. 3. Prefer that which is most agreeable to the ear ; as, ingenuity to ingeniousncss. 4. Prefer the simpler expression; as, approve to approve of, subtract to suhstract. 5. When the other canons fail to settle the doubt, pre- fer that expression most conformable to ancient usage ; as, jail 3.ndjaiier instead oi gaol and gaoler. The pupil will not need to resort often to these canons. Seldom can it be maintained that usage is equally di- vided respecting any two expressions ; and, when it is so divided, neither can be called wrong. We do not give these canons supposing that they will be of great assist- ance to the pupil in his work. Returning to the rule that good use is reputable, na- tional, and present, we say that perspicuity interdicts the use of all vulgar, provincial, foreign, obsolete, newly coined, or ephemeral words and phrases, because, what- ever they have been or may hereafter be, they are not now English, and one cannot presume that they would be understood by the English reader. Purity, too, puts 96 Qualities of Style — Perspicuity. them under biin, because they would degrade style by tainting the language used. This prohibition is not, in some of its specifications, to be taken absolutely. Words and phrases from the Latin and even from the Greek, from the F'rench, Italian, and other modern languages, expressing shades of meaning for which no exact equivalents can be found in English, are sometimes seen on the pages of our best authors. Often they seem to be needed, but it would hardly be un- charitable to charge them, at times, to affectation. It not unfrequently happens, too, that new words are coin- ed, and that old words wake up from what Marsh calls a long Rip Van Winkle sleep, and begin service anew. The subjects to the discussion of which they are needful having ceased to engross attention, the words become obsolescent and finally obsolete, to be revived, however, whenever the topic revives. But the rule, not strictly observed by writers of note, is absolutely binding upon the inexperienced. " Be not the first," says Pope, " by whom the new are tried, nor yet the last to lay the old aside." Heed this advice in your choice and use of words. A barbarism is an expression which violates the rule that in language good use is reputable, national, and present. Direction. — Form sentences, where you can, containing good En- glish equivalents for these expressions: — I. That is a sine qua no7i. 2. He is of the elite. 3. He pitches rig Jit into the matter. 4. Several things if not more must be done. 5. The ne plus ultra has been reached, 6. It went off with eclat. 7. He is a connoisseur in art. 8. Ameri- cans are deficient in the petite morale. 9. A la Paris. He is troubled with ^;z;z///. 10. She made her ^ Ci3 ^ Review of Imagcjy. 135 A SCHEME FOR REVIEW. Things first Known and Named. Basis of Imagery. Definitions (Lesson 44). I. The Comparison, or Simile. Rhetorical Value (Les- sons 44, 45, 47, 55, and 56). II. The Metaphor. Rhetorical Value (Lessons 46, 47, 55, and 56). Change of Comparisons into Metaphors and of Met- aphors into Comparisons (Lesson 47). Faded and So-called Mixed Metaphors (Lessons 48, 55, and 56). Comparisons and Metaphors Containing Allusions p^ (Lessons 49, 55, and 56). III. Personification — Three Grades. Rhetorical Value << (Lessons 50, 55, and 56). IV. The Apostrophe. Rhetorical Value (Lessons 51, 55, and 56). V, Antithesis. Grades. Rhetorical Value (Lessons 52, 55, and 56). VI. The Metonymy — The Seven Kinds. Rhetorical Value (Lessons 53, 55, and 56). VII. The Synecdoche — The Two Kinds. Rhetorical Value (Lessons 54-56). Tropes — Metaphors, Personifications, Apostrophes which personify. Metonymies, and Synecdoches. Hyperboles (Lesson 54). 136 Qualities of Style — Energy. LESSON 57. ENERGY. SPECIFIC WORDS. Thought may be expressed so feebly as to make little impression on the hearer or reader ; it may be put so forcibly as to produce a profound effect, so stamping itself on his memory that it cannot be forgotten. Energy is that quality of style by the use of which thought is forcibly expressed. Perspicuity is essen- tial to energy, since what is indistinct is not seen, and is not felt ; imagery conduces to energy, as it presents the thought more graphically than plain language can doit : but energy, employing these grand qualities of style, is something different from them. A thought maybe perfectly distinct, and maybe expressed in a figure ; but it may not concentrate upon itself one's whole attention, and powerfully affect him. Not all Thought Expressed with Energy. — In the ordinary communication of one with another, in descrip- tion, in narration, in simple instruction of every kind, the easy manner is appropriate. But when the thought is weighty, when its comprehension demands exhausting effort, when upon its acceptance something vital seems to depend, especially when feeling respecting some duty is to be awakened, and the putting forth of an act of the will is to be secured, then the thought must be expressed with great earnestness. The speaker or writer will then be aroused to strong feeling, and his passion will pervade specific IVords. 137 his thought as light fills the air, guiding him in the choice of words and in the construction of his sentences. Energy is assisted not only by the means which secure perspicuity, and by the use of imagery, but also by the use of I. Specific Words. — Words which denote individual things, having a narrow breadth of meaning, are more readily understood and produce a deeper impression than those whose meaning is broader, those which name classes of objects. One in his ordinary shoes sinks deeper into the drift than when his feet are armed with snow-shoes. Direction. — Recast these sentences, substituting generic words for those in Italics, and changing the other words so far as you need for this purpose, and note the loss of expressiveness and energy: — I. Will you die of hunger on the land which your sweat has made fertile } 2. Did this save the Crown of James the Seco?td? 3. Did this save the /^ en & •0 «<-■ Xi =1 C/) +J (A c & tfl bfl v\ C (1) !!h c ^ -«-> U) a u A SCHEME FOR REVIEW. Wit — Its Definition and Use. Pathos — Its Definition and Use. Satire. Sarcasm. Ridicule. Irony. Humor. A Burlesque. The Mock-Heroic. A Parody. I II. III. IV. V. I. II. III. IV. A Pun. LESSON 72. ELEGANCE. In ordinary prose, style is wholly in the service of the thought. Its worth is measured by the degree in which it makes the thought distinct or forcible, and forgets itself in this service. Here that is regarded as the best style which does not attract attention to itself, but leaves that for the thought. But style, while serving the thought, may do it with a consciousness that it has a value inde- pendent of the service rendered by it. The beautiful color of the horse, its grace of form, its style and carriage do not pull at the traces, are no part of the beast as a working animal; but they are qualities so valuable as to be secured at almost any cost. 172 Qualities of Style — Elegance. Elegance is that quality of style which shows itself in grace and beauty of expression. In its rarest form it is found in poetry, the most artistic species of literature, and is not sought after with such anxious quest in prose — prose which does common day-labor, the work of the artisan rather than that of the artist. Elegance is the highest and most delicate quality of style, the one most difficult of attainment, and the one last attained. The era of elegant prose in national life comes when the rough, pioneer work has been done, when disturbing questions no longer excite and absorb the thinkers, and when the friction of parties has been reduced to a mini- mum. The amenities and refinements of style can be reached only when energy has in a measure subsided, as ease and leisure follow, but do not precede, struggle and competence. In a writer, elegance is the outcome of high culture, perfect self-possession, a tranquil theme and complete mastery of it. Its Requisites. — I. There must be beauty in one's thought if he would have beauty in its expression — the soul within does much to fashion the body it inhabits. II. Words must be chosen with regard to beauty and euphony. The verbal resources of the English for varied expression are great. In its composite vocabulary, words of Romance and words of Teutonic origin — the smooth, mellifluous words of the indolent Southern races and the harsh, vigorous words of the energetic Northern nations — stand side by side. Oar vocabulary has recruited itself from the speech of every people and literature with which the English race has had communication. All needful, we had almost said, all conceivable, sounds rep- resented by vowels and consonants, single and in combi- nation, are in our words — words, some of which glide from the tongue, and some of which must be ejaculated. The Requisites of Elegance. 1 73 In English, better, perhaps, than in any other tongue, living or dead, words can be found which are an "echo to the sense," let the sense be what it will, (i) Rapid motion and (2) slow motion, (3) ease and (4) difficulty of effort, (5) smoothness and (6) harshness, (7) the agree- able and (8) the disagreeable in things, and (9) size can, to a degree, be imitated by words combined into sen- tences. Every passion and every thought can be uttered in language especially appropriate to it. From this rich diversity in our vocabulary, it happens that the felicity of diction, aptly used, is at once seen, since every kind of it is set off by some other differing from it. When the words of a language are mainly euphonious or harsh, short or long, weak or forcible, there can be little beauty arising from the fitness in sound of the word to the idea, because there can be little or no contrast. Elegance requires the choice of words which are agreeable to the ear. III. There must be beauty in the imagery. While we insist that no figure of speech should be used, like ear- drops, merely to adorn, it is true that no image need en- list wholly in the service of the thought. It may minis- ter to our taste, gratify our craving for the beautiful, and this without neglecting its duty to the thought — a velvet dress does not forget to keep one warm while it is doing its best to please the eye. IV. Elegance allows alliteration. — While in a prose sentence words which sound alike are offensive, it is allowable, because agreeable to the ear, to begin several successive words with the same letter. Alliteration, the repetition of the same letter at the beginning of succes- sive words, or words near each other, if not frequent, and obviously striven for, contributes to elegance. V. The sentence may be long, but it must be smooth and 1 74 Qualities of Style — Elegance. flowing. Energy is sometimes impatient of long sen- tences, and coils its expression up into briefest compass, ready to be hurled at the mark ; but elegance, insisting only that the sentence shall move smoothly, leisurely, and without apparent effort, allows it to run over long stretches without stopping. Its parts must not be sep- arated and something more or less parenthetical be crowded in between, compelling the reader to dismount from the main thought only to leap back into the saddle when this thought is resumed. VI. The use of rhythm contributes to elegance. Prose rhythm is that quality in a sentence which requires of the one reading it aloud a rise and a fall of the voice. The reader climbs one side of a hill and descends on the other. The parts of the sentence are nicely balanced, often turning on the pivot of a but. This quality is most frequently seen in sentences containing antitheses. Direction. — Study these sentences, point out those possessing ele- gance, tell what gives them this quality, and show what is imitated by the remaining sentences: — I. The everlasting gates of heaven opened wide to let him pass forth ; and, clothed with majesty, and accompanied with thousands of seraphim and cherubim, anxious to behold the great work to be done, he does go forth, far into that very Chaos through which the rebel angels have so recently fallen, and which now intervenes between Heaven and Hell. 2. While the wild wind went moaning everywhere, lamenting the dead children of the air. 3. Up the high hill he heaves a huge, round stone, 4. He listened to the song of the Syrens, yet he glided by without being seduced to their shore. 5. You common cry of curs ! whose breath I hate as reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize as the dead carcasses of unburied men ! 6. Chau- cer's best tales run on like one of our inland rivers, sometimes hastening a little and turning upon themselves in eddies that Examples of Elegance. 175 dimple, without retarding, the current; sometimes loitering smoothly, while here and there a quiet thought, a tender feeling, a pleasant image, or a golden-hearted verse opens quietly as a water-lily to float on the surface without breaking it into ripple. 7 I sift the snow on the mountains below, and their great pines groan aghast; and all the night 'tis my pillow white, while I sleep in'the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers, lightning, my pilot, sits ; in a cavern under is fet- tered the thunder, it struggles and howls at fits. 8. Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge, is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides. 9. Here they used to sit in the shade through a long, lazy summer's day, talking listlessly over village gossip, or telling endless, sleepy stories about nothing. 10. And dash- ing soft from rocks around, bubbling runnels joined the sound, ii"^ The leper no longer crouched by his side, but stood before him glorified, shining and tall and fair and straight as the pillar that stood by the beautiful gate. 12. Nor is my admiration awakened by her armies mustered for the battles of Europe, her navies overshadowing the ocean, or her empire grasping the farthest East. 13. Though he who utters this should die, yet the immortal fire shall outlast the humble organ who conveys it; and the breath of liberty, like the word of the holy man, will not die with the prophet, but will survive him. 14- Meas- ured by any high standard of imagination, Pope will be found wanting ; tried by any test of wit, he is unrivalled. 15. There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, there's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, there's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, and a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 16. As the soft air steals in, and envelops everything in the world, so that the trees and the hills and the rivers, the cities, the crops, and the sea are made remote and delicate and beautiful by its pure baptism.— so, over all the events of our lives, comforting, re- fining, and elevating, falls, like a benediction, the remembrance of our c'^ousin the curate. 17. Thereare nofieldsof amaranth on this side of the grave ; there are no voices, O Rhodope, that are not soon mute, however tuneful ; there is no name, with whatever 1 76 Qualities of Style — Elegance. emphasis of passionate lov^e repeated, of which the echo is not faint at last. Direction. — Bring in sentences containing the several requisites of elegance, and others whose sound is an "echo to the sense." LESSON 73. ELEGANCE. Direction. — Do with these sentences as directed with those in Lesson 72:- I. The waters wild went o'er his child, and he was left lament- ing. 2. And the rain descended and the floods came and the winds blew and beat upon that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it. 3. Ye that pipe and ye that play, ye that through your hearts to-day feel the gladness of the May. 4. And thou, all-shaking Thunder, strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world. 5 In one rude clash he struck the lyre, and swept with hurried hand the strings. 6. But far below I beheld tremulously vibrat- ing on the bosom of some half-hidden lake, a golden pillar of solar splendor which had escaped through rifts and rents in the clouds that to me were as invisible as the sun himself. 7. She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding down through the turning sphere, his ready harbinger, with turtle wing the amo- rous clouds dividing : and, waving wide her myrtle wand, she strikes a universal peace through sea and land. 8. They my lowing followed through tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, prick- ing gorse, and thorns which entered their frail shins. 9. The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve, and, like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. 10. But tell why the sepulchre, wherein we saw thee quietly in- urned, hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws to cast thee up again. 11 Not in entire forgetfulness and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come from God Examples of Elegance. 177 who is our home. 12. When the loud surges lash the sounding shore, the hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. 13. A sloop was loitering in the distance, dropping slowly- down with the tide, her sail hanging uselessly against the mast. 14. Others might possess the qualities which were necessary to save the popular party in the hour of danger ; Hampden alone had both the power and the inclination to restrain its excesses in the hour of triumph. 15. If, turning back, I could overpass the vale of years and could stand on the mountain-top, and could look back again far before me at the bright ascending morn, we would enjoy the prospect together ; we would walk along the summit hand in hand, O Rhodope, and we would only sigh at last when we found ourselves below with others. 16. From the silence and deep peace of this saintly summer night, from the pathetic blending of this sweet moonlight, dawnlight, dreamlight, from the manly tenderness of this flattering, whisper- ing, murmuring love, suddenly as from the woods and fields, suddenly as from the chambers of the air opening in revelation, suddenly as from the ground yawning at her feet, leaped upon her with the flashing of cataracts, Death, the crowned phantom, with all the equipage of his terrors and the tiger roar of his voice. 17. When I remember what a noble and beautiful woman is, what a manly man ; when I reel, dazzled by this glare, drunken by these perfumes, confused by this alluring music, and reflect upon the enormous sums wasted in a pompous profusion that delights no one; when I look around upon all this rampant vulgarity in tinsel and Brussels lace, and think how fortunes go, how men struggle, and lose the bloom of their honesty, how women hide in a smiling pretence, and eye with caustic glances their neighbor's newer house, diamonds, or porcelain, and ob- serve their daughters, such as these ; — why, I tremble and trem- ble, and this scene to-night, every "crack" ball this winter will be, not the pleasant society of men and women, but, even in this young country, an orgie such as rotting Corinth saw, a frenzied festival of Rome in its decadence. 18. For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and [he] hopes to get to heaven and climb above the clouds : but the poor bird was beaten back by the loud sighings 178 Qualities of Style — Elegance. of an Eastern wind, and his motion made irregfular and incon- stant, descending more at every breath of the tempest than it could recover by the libration and frequent weighing of his wings, till the little creature was forced to sit down and pant and stay till the storm was over; and then it made a prosperous flight and did rise and sing as if it had learned music and motion from an angel as he passed sometimes through the air about his ministries here below. Direction. — Bring in sentences containing the several requisites of elegance, and others whose sound is an " echo to the sense." SB O < {2; < CO O A SCHEME FOR REVIEW. Elegance defined. I, Beauty in the Thought. II, Euphony in the Words. Particulars in which Words can Echo the Sense. \ III. Beauty in the Imagery, IV. Alliteration, V, Smooth and Flowing Sentences. VI, Rhythm. Extracts fo)' the Study of Style. i 79 LESSON 74. STYLE — EXTRACTS FOR THE CRITICAL STUDY OF IT. Names of Styles. — The prevalence of any quality, or specialty, in one's style may name it. If imagery abounds in it, we call the styXt Jlor id ; if it is barren of imagery, we say it is plai?i ; if matter-of-fact and without fancy or imagination, dry or prosy. If any one figure, as the metaphor or the antithesis, is in excess, we name the style from it, metaphorical or antithetic. Wit, in some of its forms, makes the style satirical or humorous; a cast of sentences fitting the discourse for delivery makes the sty\Q forcible or oratorical J if the expression runs along musically, part arising out of part spontaneously and without abruptness, the style is smooth or floiuing ; and if, being smooth, the words are chosen for beauty of sound and meaning, the style is graceful even elegant. Spartan brevity makes the style laconic; freedom from superfluity of words and needless circumstances makes it concise; superfluity of expression and circumstance, and thinness of thought make it diffuse or tedious or prolix; the free use of the idioms of the language makes it idiomatic ; the presence of short, pithy, portable sentences makes it sententious or epigrammatic ; wordiness makes it verbose ; household words and a colloquial cast of sentences make it j/w// Sermons. p f " Treatises. til Histories. m Travels. Prose. < Fiction. Letters. Biographies. Written, s ^ Essays. P Didactic Poetry. M h^ Satirical Poetry. < Poetry. . Lyric Poetry. Pastoral Poetry. Epic Poetry. ^ . . Dramatic Poetry All discQurse is intended, as was said, (i) for the intel- lect, bringing it facts, thoughts, truths, principles, and building it up in knowledge ; or (2) for the emotive na- ture, bringing to this beauty-loving part of us the suste- nance it craves ; or (3) for the will, aiming to dissuade us from or persuade us to any act or line of action or of conduct. Of the three groups seen in the scheme above, we may say, speaking generally, that that which forms the prose division of written discourse is addressed to the Or a I Discou rse. 1 9 7 intellect, aims to instruct and inform it. The group forming the division of written discourse called poetry aims to minister to our feelings and desires ; while the group constituting oral discourse, co-ordinate with writ- ten, is dissuasive or persuasive, and bears down upon the will. Oral Discourse. — Since oral discourse precedes writ- ten in the order of time, and since it is more common and necessary than written, we have placed it first in the scheme. Its purpose, in the main, is to move the will, to lead it, to lead the man, to do something or to refrain from doing it. The lawyer talking at the bar, the preacher pleading from the pulpit, the reformer de- nouncing on the platform, the politician haranguing from the stump, the statesman debating in a legislative assembly — all who write or speak with a distinct moral purpose, aiming this one at a verdict, that one at votes, every one at a change in belief or action or conduct, so- cial, political, or religious, — all are training their guns upon the citadel of the will, the fortress of one's person- ality. Relation of the Intellect to the Feelings and to THE Will. — When it is said that poetry brings its con- tents to the feelings, and that oral discourse, persuasion, bears down upon the will, we must not forget that poetry can reach the feelings only as it enters the mind through the door of the intellect, and that persuasion can reach the will only through the door of the intellect and that of the feelings. In illustration, we may say that the in- tellect is a bank-building surrounding on all sides the vault and the safe within the vault. The feelings are the vault, enclosed within the structure of the intellect, and themselves enclosing the safe. The will is the safe, doubly enclosed. There is possible, then, no direct, no 198 Pi'oductions — Oral Prose. immediate approach either to the feelings or to the will — , discourse must go through the door of the intellect to reach the one, must go through the door of the intellect and that of the feelings to reach the other. This necessity both persuasion and poetry recognize. The staple of all effective persuasion is argument, and argument is thought, and thought is the key to the door of the intellect. But it is thought of such a kind, so instinct with passion, that, while it convinces the understanding, it arouses feeling and begets desire, in the presence and in the opportunity of which alone does the will ever act. For the feelings wait upon the intellect, and the will waits upon both. There can be, then, but three great classes of discourse, since there are but three ends which discourse can propose to itself. That which brings its contents to the intellect appeals directly to it ; that which seeks to nourish the feelings brings, at the same time, its tribute to the in- tellect ; and that which strives to take captive the will must first carry the judgment and awaken feeling and desire. But there may be many subdivisions of these great classes of discourse. The first division of oral dis- course we shall notice is Conversation. — Conversation is discourse between two or more people. Much of oral discourse is written, but written to be spoken. Conversation never is. But its value as preparatory to written discourse, to be spoken or not to be, is beyond estimate. I. Conversation Widens one's View of his Subject. — He is forced to look at this through the eyes of another, and he sees what he could not discover for himself. Under the stimulus of opposition, he is carried in his own thinking over territory he could not traverse alone. He learns what will bear the heat of discussion and what will not. He sees that he must survey a subject from Conversation. 1 99 all sides if he would handle it well, finds that never is all the truth with any one disputant, has his own opinions corrected and broadened, settles down into a more modest estimate of his own powers, and masters what Curtis says is the great lesson of travel — toleration. II. Conversation puts one in Better Possession of HIS Thought. — One never knows that he knows anything till he finds himself able to tell others of it. Communica- tion mirrors to us the exact condition of our knowledge. We learn by teaching — learn our lack and how to supply it. Conversation makes the vague definite, and tightens our grasp of what we before held loosely. Ill Conversation Teaches us how to Communicate. — It teaches one where to begin and what order to follow. It gives him a deft handling of his thought, and the art of putting it so as to make the most of it. He learns from it that the strongest point may fail through one's lack of tact in presenting it — it was not the more power- ful Rhoderick Dhu but the trained and skilful Fitz- James who won in the sword duel. He attains a facile use of words. Summoning them at the instant bidding of his needs, he acquires a command of his vocabulary. He learns to choose the aptest words. Watching the face and speech of his opponent, he sees whether or not the words used have carried his thought home. He is taught the value of simple words, the danger of verbi- age, the necessity of an arrangement that is direct and a style that is lucid. He learns that, while he is not to cease firing before the mark is hit, he must stop when it is — while bringing his thought to bear from many sides, if need be, he must stay his tongue when he has lodged his thought where he wants it. In many ways, then, conversation can be made serviceable to the writer or public speaker. 2CX) Pi'odiictions — Oral Prose. Debates. — A debate is a formal and public conversa- tion. Having espoused one side of a question, the de- bater arrays all the facts and arguments he can find which support his position, and talks not so much to give knowledge as to establish his proposition. What the preparation for the debate and the discussion of the question do for the disputants we attempted to show in our model given in Lesson 27. All that was said there and, in the same Lesson, on the Preparation of a Frame- work, and much said, in this Lesson, on Conversation, might be repeated and emphasized here. Burden of Proof and Presumption. — We wish to add that, in ordinary conversation, in debate, in orations, in spoken and written efforts of all kinds, you should not dis- regard what is called The Burden of Proof and The Presumption. Whoever attacks anything takes upon himself the burden of demonstrating its unreasonable- ness or falsity — of showing cause why it should be changed or abolished. His is the laboring oar. With that which is attacked lies the presumption that it has a right to exist. Its existence does not establish that right, else " Whatever is, is right," and there should be no change, and could be no improvement. But its de- fenders are not called upon to prove that it is reason- able or true, and therefore has a right to be. Exemp- tion from proving this is assumed, and this the assailant concedes. The Burden of Proof is the labor of proving the un- reasonableness or the falsity of that which is assailed, and the truth of that which is offered as a substitute. The Presumption is the exemption from all labor in debate save that of defence. Presumption, as Whately says, is like a fortress within which the defenders may fight. All they are called The Oration. 201 upon to do in order to win is to ward off attacks — repel the assailants. The fortress itself may be sufficient for this, it is, at least, a powerful protection. But if, aban- doning this figurative fortress, as Charles of Lorraine at Leuthen abandoned his real one, the defenders sally forth to fight without its walls, they may, like him, be beaten. The presumption of innocence belongs to every one until he is proved guilty. Anyone arrested and accused is held in duress only to allow the prosecutor to attempt the proof of his guilt. If he fails, the accused is dis- charged. Presumption, as has been said, lies with every existing institution. By a skilful throwing back of the question to a time when the institution did not exist, the burden of proof may be shifted, and the defenders of it may be called upon to show cause why it arose and ex- ists. If this is allowed by them, they assume the labor of proof, and lose the presumption. The Oration. — An oration is a discourse delivered be- fore an audience of scholars. Some orations commem- orate great events, like the Landing of the Pilgrims, the Declaration of Independence, the laying of a corner-stone, the death of a great statesmen or scholar ; others are pre- pared for the anniversaries of literary societies, as those of college alumni or of the Phi Beta Kappa fraternity ; and even the speeches of the ancient orators come down to us with the title of orations. All such efforts take their key-note from the occasion, and, as this is never common- place, so they are never familiar and colloquial, but la- bored, graceful, polished, and dignified, disclosing rare scholarship, and abounding, often, in classic allusion. We use the word oration to denote, also, the spoken pro- ductions of youth in schools and colleges. It may be of service to the student to say something of these pro ^02 Prodiutions — Or a I Prose. ductions. They borrow no importance from the occa- sion for which they are prepared, but must rely for that on their intrinsic merit. What was said, in Lesson 27, upon the Preparation of a Framework is in point here — there must be the selection of a subject, the accumu- lation of material, the planning and putting together of the structure. But the consideration that a subject and a style of treatment suitable to an essay would be ill-suited to an oration, since the oration is to be spoken and not read, is all-important, and justifies an addi- tional word. I. The Choice of a Subject. — A subject should be taken which is adapted to awaken in the speaker not thought only, but also feeling. Abstract subjects or subjects merely speculative are not suited to the student's purpose. The subject should be one that in some demonstrable way is concerned with the well-being of mankind — the reformation of some abuse, the just claims of some frac- tion of the race, the improvement of humanity in some particular, the rights, the wrongs, the duties, or the de- velopment of men. It may be some question of the hour, agitating men's minds, or some older topic that can never be exhausted or cease to interest. If the sub- ject has in it this human element, and, in addition, is a question upon which men are not at one, so that the speaker may have, or imagine that he has, an opponent to spur him to his utmost, all is done that the subject can do to incite him to his best thinking, kindle strong feeling, give point and weight to his style, and anima- tion to his delivery. II. The Framework. — Select from your analysis of the subject not more than two or three points. But let these be pivotal — points which, if made, will establish what you aim to prove. The historic battles are not won by The Oration — Treatment and Parts. 203 defending or capturing tlie fortresses all along the line, but by holding or carrying those which form the key of the position. The great debaters are those who have the discernment to see what points are commanding, and who, neglecting all else, concentrate their forces upon these and make them impregnable. We do not listen and assent to one for his " much speaking," but for his wise speaking. III. The Treatment. — Energy is the quality of style which should dominate in your orations. Words and figures of speech should be chosen for vigor rather than for beauty. Keep to the concrete as far as possible, and array specific instances in the way of illustration and proof. In the arrangement of complex sentences, place the dependent and qualifying clauses before the inde- pendent and the qualified — the wasp carries its formi- dable weapon in its tail. Let this suggest the order of the points, where nothing else determines it, — those ab- solutely weak being dropped — and the development of each. While deep feeling should characterize the oration as a whole, yet each paragraph should begin colloqui- ally, and should deepen in thought and emotion as it proceeds, the burden, carried, intensifying to the close. Long sentences and periods are in place here — great momentum cannot be attained if all the sentences are broken into fragments, or the stops are frequent. Great variety, especially in the kind, length, and character of the sentences used, should distinguish the oration. IV. The Parts.— The parts of an oration are three — the introduction, or exordium, the discussion, and the perora- tion, or conclusion. The introduction should be brief and graceful, and should pave the way neatly to the dis- cussion ; the discussion should be honest and thorough ; and the peroration should match the discussion, looking 204 Productions — Oral Prose. back to the whole of it in recapitulation or inference or application, and fitly closing it. Whether the proposition to be proved should be stated before the discussion or at the close of it de- pends largely upon your decision of the question, Is it or is it not agreeable to my auditors? If not agree- able, it should be withheld, and the audience should be carried along by the argument and be forced, at the close of the discussion, to accept the statement and the proof of it. The introduction you may write last, though it stands first — we build the porch not before, but after, the house is erected, though we place it in front. Speeches. — Speeches are oral discourses usually de- livered in legislative assemblies or before political bodies. Among the great spoken efforts that survive in English are the speeches made in Parliament and in Congress. Of Parliamentary speeches, some have treated of the political rights of the people, of the pre- rogatives of the Crown, of the relation and duties of England to her Colonies and of her Colonies to her, of the foreign policy of the government, and of church, financial, and land questions. Some of those made in Congress have dealt with the nature of the central government, with its relation to the states composing the Union and to the territories, with the tariff, with internal improvements, with the currency, with our re- lations to the Indians and to foreign powers, and with negro slavery. Their Style and Value. — These speeches contain the best thought of the wisest statesmen, and have been of service in settling intricate national and international questions, and shaping the foreign and domestic pol- icy of governments. Delivered on opposite sides of speeches. 205 questions that have called for a vote, they have called out all the legal and political learning of the ablest public men, and all their powers of reasoning and per- suasion. Republics and limited monarchies, in which the fullest freedom of speech is enjoyed, are favorable to this kind of discourse. The subject-matter of these speeches is usually thoroughly prepared, but commonly the speeches are not written out — the wording of the thought being left to the occasion. With some justice our Congressional speaking has been accused of a style bombastic and declamatory ; but it is thought that age will bring sedateness to the national spirit, and beget a disposition among our orators to fly with less of "soar" and "spread-eagle" in their movement. Campaign Speeches. — Our annual and presidential elections form a valuable school for the cultivation of public speaking. The principles of the contending political parties are expounded, and criticised or de- fended, the merits of the rival candidates are canvassed, and the duties of the citizens at the polls are enforced in these speeches. These campaigns are highly excit- ing ; callow youth and fledgling politicians " take the stump ;" every hamlet has its gatherings, and every larger town its mass-meetings ; and the land rings with the noisy conflict of opinions. When, as often happens, ignorance, misrepresentation, sophistry, and appeals to the lower passions mark these speeches, they deserve, and should receive, no higher title than harangues. AfteR-DinnER Speeches should be graceful, abound- ing in wit, happy allusions, and ready repartee, and should be marked by a style suited to the occasion and to the toasts, or sentiments, which call them forth. Lectures and Addresses. — Lectures and Addresses are oral discourses delivered before lyceums and lecture 2o6 Productions — Oral Prose. associations. Such institutions are found, one in almost every village of the North and West, and local talent is drafted and foreign engaged for the annual course. The topics discussed in these lecture are exhaustless in variety, as are also the styles in which they are treated. Such efforts are mainly intended to instruct, not a few are meant to amuse, and some to persuade. They have been, and are still, though in a waning degree, a means of popular education. Many of our best speakers have served an apprenticeship on the platform, and have learned from it invaluable lessons. Lectures are usu- ally written. Fleas. — Pleas are oral discourses delivered by lawyers before juries and judges. The occasions which give birth to them are suits-at-law concerning property, and the trials of those accused of misdemeanors and crimes. Pleas are based upon the written documents submitted, upon the testimony of witnesses summoned to testify what they have seen, and upon the law applicable to the case. They classify the evidence given, point to the con- clusions which this establishes, and suggest to the juries the verdicts they should bring in. The plea is extem- porary, the lawyer talking from the points set down in his brief. From the importance of the questions in- volved, and from the ability displayed in handling them, some pleas have passed into permanent literature. Sermons. — Sermons are oral discourses delivered by preachers before religious bodies. The topic discussed in a sermon is taken from some verse or passage in the Bible, and the sermon consists of a development and an enforcement of the truth found in it, and an application of it to the conduct and life of the hearers. The design of the sermon is to teach v/hat is to be believed concerning God and our relations to him and to our fellows, and to Sermons. 207 lead us to be and to do what is becoming to us, and im- perative upon us, as accountable beings. Our moral and religious duties — the duties we owe to ourselves, to our neighbors, and to God — furnish the preacher his sub- jects. The range of them is immense ; and their impor- tance is beyond estimate, since they have to do with the forming of the most precious thing conceivable — human character. The preacher's function is extending with the advance made in the interpretation of the Scriptures, with the disclosure of new mines of truth in them, and with the application of it to us in the relations which we sustain to others — ever increasing in number and in reach. No other species of oral discourse ranks with the sermon in variety and dignity of topics, and in the im- portance of the motives arrayed and of the ends presented. The lawyer seeks to redress wrongs, the preacher seeks to prevent them ; the occupation of the one would decline, were the teaching of the other completely effective. Sermons may be written — volumes of these are in every library. LESSON 7Y. WRITTEN DISCOURSE — PROSE, KINDS OF. The prose division of written discourse is intended mainly to nourish that department of the mind which is called the intellect. Its purpose is chiefly didactic, in- forming and instructing this cognitive part of the mind, by furnishing it facts, truths, and thoughts. We say that this is mainly its function, but, in certain subdi- visions of it, we shall see that the author cherishes a moral purpose as well, attempts the reformation of some 2o8 Productiojis — Written Prose. abuse, or tries to leave some silt of deposit upon char- acter. Treatises. — A treatise is a written work containing the principles and the facts of any science or art. We have a right to demand of a treatise that the facts shall be grouped into the classes to which they belong ; that the principles governing this classification shall be reason- able and apparent ; that a rigid gradation shall be ob- served throughout, subordinating and co-ordinating, and bringing the parts into a scheme that brackets them all, holds everything in its place, and enables the reader to get a correct view of the parts, in their relation to each other and to the whole, by a glance at the table of contents ; that the definitions shall be brief, simple, accurate, and adequate ; and that the style and treat- ment from beginning to end shall be clear and exact. Histories. — A history is a written work detailing the achievements of a nation. Its purpose is instruction. It teaches us the bent, or genius, of the nation, what has been its government and whether helpful or hurtful to the people, what its solution of the great social, political, and religious problems, what great things it has done and by what means, what its influence upon other nations, and what measures have made it strong or weak. The topics formerly discussed by the historian were the nation's martial exploits by land and sea, the majesty and power of its rulers, the wealth of its nobles, the literature of its scholars, the deeds of its heroes, and its bearing toward surrounding nations. The topics now discussed concern rather the condition of the people. What are the houses in which they live and with what conveniences are these furnished, what dress do they wear, what do they eat and drink, what is their education, their religion and how do they worship, Histories. 209 what are their occupations and their sanitary reo^ulations, by what laws are they governed, what is the measure of freedom they enjoy, what have been their struggles for it, and of what rights are they still deprived— these and such as these are the questions that engross the his- torian of to-day. Only within a short time have the Chinese walls of class and national exclusiveness been broken down, and a conscious feeling of the brotherhood of mankind has obtained. People now are curious, anx- ious, to know of other people. Only recently, too, have the national archives unlocked their treasures, and spread state papers and official records before the his- torian for his inspection and use. The spirit in which history is now written is that of the humble, but jealous, seeker for truth— truth for its own sake, and truth for the sake of the lessons it can teach. The mountains of material now available are brought into the focus of the most critical scrutiny. Whatever will not stand the test of the severest skepticism is rejected. Documents are subjected to microscopic inspection, au- thorities are interrogated, and testimony weighed and sifted with a patience, a diligence, and a discriminating judgment unknown to our ancestors, who blindly fol- lowed tradition, by whom myth was taken for fact, and error in the guise of truth passed undetected and even unchallenged. It is said that, in the preparation of a recent history of England, 200,000 documents, mostly in manuscript and in many languages, were consulted. .We are not to look for absolutely impartial and authentic his- tories, A fact must take some form and color from the eye that sees it, and it may be harnessed into the service of a certain theory, or it may not, according as the historian accepts the theory or rejects it ;— nay, the same fact can be made to pull in opposite directions by two men whose 2IO Productions — Written Prose. creeds are mutually opposed. One man s par ceque is an- other's quoigi/e, that is, what one holds to have been caused by some agency another regards as existing in spite of it. This we must expect, but perhaps there is less of the calm and judicial spirit among historians of to-day than, at first, we are inclined to believe. We must remember, however, that historians are but men with religious and political biases ; without intending or even knowing it, they look upon things with the eyes of partisans, are blind to the significance of certain facts, and see in others what they themselves put into them. Especially is this true of those pen portraits of the great actors in human affairs, which form so valuable a feature of history — most of them masterly and enduring, but some of them painted in colors already fading. The style both in matter and in manner is varied. The narration of events, the description of men and of things, the drawing of warranted conclusions, making history teach by example, and the application of its lessons to questions agitating the world at the time of the historian — these call, now for the most vigorous and logical exercise of his reasoning faculty, and now for the spacious flights of his imagination, and demand a word- ing which shall range from dry and matter-of-fact up through all grades of expression to the ornate and ele- gant. Histories form one of the greatest and most use- ful departments of literature. Travels. — A book of travels is a work which pictures places and peoples visited by the author. It gives his views of what he has himself seen. Such works are entertaining and instructive, though they do not pretend to be more than cursory and superficial, and should be read by all who desire a knowledge of countries they have not seen, and of contemporary events enacting be- Fiction, 2 1 1 yond their immediate vision. They form an important part of literature ; though, when compared with history proper, to which they are tributary, they are light and ephemeral. Fiction. — A work of fiction is a production which de- picts the lives of imaginary persons. It may, indeed, deal with real men and women ; but, when it does this, does not claim to tell what they actually said and did. Ordinarily, a work of fiction treats only of imaginary persons, though it treats of them as if they were real. It has to do with the motives that influence persons, with the behavior of such persons under that influence, and with the development of character under the condi- tions imposed. It aims, then, at the portrayal of character, and seeks to give a just insight into human nature. Some novelists show wonderful power in their impersona- tions, building up on the page before us their men and women, rounding them inco completeness, and yet keeping them as distinct from each other as are the real men and women about us. Others, in their anxiety to preserve the individuality of their person- ages, make them the embodiment each of some single trait ; and, instead of characters, present us caricatures. In the novel, dialogue abounds ; and in this each person reveals his peculiarities and paints himself — the picture being completed by the touches which the author adds when speaking, in his own name, of him. Great ingenuity is sometimes shown in the construction of the plot, and in the management of the incidents by which the action of the story is carried forward, and the characters are made to grow before our eyes. Love forms, in great part, the staple of the novel, and it is this which gives the production much of its fascinating interest even for adults. 2 1 2 Prodicctions — Written Pilose. Some novels teach us much concerning the customs, habits, manners, domestic and social life, and even his- tory of the people during the age in which the scenes are laid. The pages of our best novels are strewn with wise thoughts, also, which betray keen analysis, accurate observation, and powers of broad generalization. And, thrown into the novel, these are read by thousands who would never see them if they stood in works professedly serious or philosophical. Some novels have a purpose beyond mere instruction. They aim to interest us in classes of society whose con- dition should be improved, to lay open, to the attention of the public, certain evils ; and, if need be, to bring legis- lation into play to redress them. The place of the novel in literature and its claim upon the reader are, perhaps, obvious from what has been said. Though one of the latest born of the departments of literature, one might infer that fiction has been rapid in its growth, and that its stature is already gigantic. Supply keeps pace with demand, and it need not be said that no spur is wanted to urge one into the field of fiction. Though it gives insight into human nature, teaches his- tory, probes festering evils, abounds in striking thoughts and rare descriptions, and has all the wealth of style lavished upon it, yet it is safe to insist that fiction should not be read to the neglect of other branches of litera- ture. And is it not also within bounds to say that it is supplanting its elder brothers in popular regard and getting the blessing that does not belong to it? The bit of restraint should here be put into the mouths of our youth. The novel should be read as an amusement and a relaxation, and this implies that it should only alternate with more solid reading. And to get out of the novel the best lessons it can teach, the reader should, Fiction and Letters, 2 1 3 in some way, deliver himself from the excitement of the story. This it is which hurries him over the pages and on with a rush to the crisis, and seals his eyes to that for which almost alone the book should be read. We almost dare advise the reader that, if need be, he should, at the start, look on to the end to see how the hero and heroine prosper, how things in general issue, and then return to the beginning and carefully gather the harvest worth reaping from the pages. He should remember that to become intensely alive to fancied suffering and be kindled to keen sympathy with fictitious personages, without opportunity to translate these feelings into act, and to do what he is moved to do, are unhealthful, and tend to deaden him to the woes and sufferings of the real world. Allegories are a species of fiction in which virtues, vices, and difficulties are personified, and great moral duties inculcated. They are less frequently written now than formerly; There are a few in classic English liter- ature. Fables are short stories in which, by the imagmed dealings of men with animals or mere things, or by the supposed doings of these alone, useful lessons are taught. Parables are short accounts of something real or supposed, used by our Lord in illustration or enforce- ment of his teaching. Letters.— A letter is a written communication from one person to another. Usually letters are upon matters purely personal and private, are letters of friendship or letters of business ; sometimes they are upon topics of general concern and are thought worthy of publication. Some of these, because of the standing of the writer and the universal desire to learn all that can be known of his 2 1 4 Productions — Written Prose. character and situation, from the importance of the sub- jects discussed, or from the exquisite style in which his thought is couched, have been gathered into volumes, and form a valuable part of literature. Not every pupil can reasonably aspire to write his- tories or works of fiction, but every one writes letters. This fact coupled with another — that a letter has several parts, each of which has a definite and proper form — justifies us in devoting a few pages to the subject of Letter- WkitinG.* — In writing a letter there are five things to consider — the heading, the introduction, the body of the letter, the conclusion, and the superscription. I. The Heading. — The heading consists of the name of the place at which the letter is written, and the date. If you write from a city like St. Louis, Boston, or New York, give the door-number, the name of the street, of the city, and of the state. If you are at a hotel or a school, its name may take the place of the door-number and the name of the street. If in a small country place, give your post-office address, the name of the county, and that of the state. The date consists of the month, the day of the month, and the year. How Written. — Begin the heading about an inch and a half from the top of the page — on the first ruled line of commercial note — and a little to the left of the middle of the page. If the heading is very short, it may stand on one line. If it occupies more than one line, the second line should begin farther to the right than the first, and the third farther to the right than the second. The date stands upon a line by itself if the heading * What is said here on letter-writing is copied, with some change, from Reed and Kellogg's " Graded Lessons in English," Letter- Writing. 2 1 5 occupies two or more lines. The door-number, the day of the month, and the year are written in figures, the rest in words. Each important word begins with a capital letter, each item is set off by the comma, and the whole closes with a period. Direction.— Study what has been said, and write the following headings according to these models : — 1. Bath, Maine, Oct. 5, 1880. 3. Plattsburgh, N. Y., 2. 527 Michigan Ave., Sept. 11, 1814. Chicago, III, 4. Sharon, Litchfield Co., Conn., May 3, 1880. November 8, 1880. I. n y albany executive chamber jan i860 5. 2. 4 long island Jamaica 1879 July. 3- house apr. pierrepont 1880 brooklyn i new york. 4. newfoundland n y buffalo ave 4 february 569 1880. 5. nov CO Washington mo 27 ripley 1875. 6. 1876 hull oct 8 mass. 7. st new york city 643 clinton 5 dec 1796. 8. Ver- mont d c ave Washington 1880 16 march 378. II. The Introduction. — The introduction consists of the address— the name, the title, and the place of business or the residence of the one addressed — and the saluta- tion. Titles of respect and courtesy should appear in the address. Prefix Mr. to a man's name ; Messrs. to the names of several gentlemen ; Miss to that of a young lady ; Mrs. to that of a married lady. Prefix Dr. to the name of a physician, but never Mr. Dr.; Rev. to the name of a clergyman, or Rev. Mr. if you do not know his christian name ; Rev. Dr. if he is a Doctor of Divin- ity, or write Rev. before the name and D.D. after it. Prefix His Excellency to the name of the President, and to that of a governor or of an ambassador ; Hon. to the name of a cabinet officer, a member of Congress, a state senator, a law judge, or a mayor. Give the title of her husband to a married lady, as Mrs. Dr. 2i6 Productions — Written Prose. Smithy Mrs. Secretary Evarts, Mrs. Gen. IV. T. Sherman. If two literary or professional titles are added to a name, let them stand in the order in which they were conferred — this is the order of a few common ones : A.M.., Ph.D., D.D., LL.D. Guard against an excessive use of titles — the higher implies the lower. Salutations vary with the station of the one addressed, or the writer's degree of intimacy with him. Strangers may be addressed as Sir., Rev. Sir, General, Madam, etc.; acquaintances as Dear Sir, Dear Madam, etc.; friends as My dear Sir, My dear Madam, My dear Jones, etc.; and near relatives and other dear friends as My dear Wife, M\ dear Boy, Dearest Ellen, etc. How Written. — The address may follow the heading, beginning on the next line, or the next but one, and standing on the left side of the page ; or it may stand in corresponding position after the body of the letter and the conclusion. If the letter is written to a very in- timate friend, or if it is an official letter, the address may appropriately be placed at the bottom ; but in other letters, especially those on ordinary business, it should be placed at the top and as directed above. Never omit it from a letter except when this is written in the third person. There should always be a narrow margin on the left-hand side of the page, and the ad- dress should always begin on the marginal line. If the address occupies more than one line, the initial words of these lines should slope to the right, as in the heading. Begin the salutation on the marginal line or, better, a little to the right of it, when the address occupies three lines ; on the marginal line or, better, to the right of it or farther to the right than the second line of the address begins, when this occupies two lines ; a little to the right of the marginal line, when the address occu- Letter- Writing. 2 1 7 pies one line ; on the marginal line, when the address stands below. Every important word in the address should begin with a capital letter. All the items of it should be set off by the comma, and, as it is an abbreviated sentence, it should close with a period. Every important word in the salutation should begin with a capital letter, and the whole should be followed by a comma. Direction. — Study what has been said, and write the following in- troductions according to these models : — 1. My dear Mother, 3. Hon. John W. Stewart, Your— Middlebury, Vt. 2. Mr, Stephen A. Walker, Respected Sir, — I Pres. Board of Educ, 4. Messrs. Clark & Maynard, 20 Nassau, N. Y. 5 Barclay St., N. Y. Dear Sir, — I write, etc. Gentlemen, I. to his excellency the president executive mansion washing- ton d c mr president. 2. prof george n boardman theo sem Chicago ill my dear teacher. 3. mr geo r curtis 71 livingston st brooklyn n y sir. 4. david h cochran lid president of the poly- technic institute brooklyn n y dear sir. 5. mrs. clara e com- stock newport ri dear madam. 6. my dear daughter your let- ters etc. 7. messrs tiffany & co 1000 broad way new york city dear sirs. 8. rev dr pentecost concord n h my dear friend. III. The Body of the Letter. — Begin the body of the letter at the end of the salutation, and on the sanie line, if the introduction consists of four lines, — you may do so even if the introduction consists of but three — in which case the comma after the salutation should be followed by a dash ; — otherwise, on the line beloio. Style. — Be perspicuous. Paragraph and punctuate as in other kinds of writing. Write legibly, neatly, and with care. Remember that the letter " bespeaks the man/' 2i8 Productions — Written Prose. Letters of friendship should be colloquial, natural, and familiar. Whatever is interesting to you will be inter- esting to your friends. Business letters should be brief, and the sentences should be short, concise, and to the point. In formal notes the third person is generally used instead of the first and second ; there is no head- ing, no introduction, no signature, only the name of the place and the date at the bottom, on the left side of the page, thus : — Mr. and Mrs. Brooks re- Mr. Churchill will be quest the pleasure of Mr. most happy to accept Mr. Churchill's company at a and Mrs. Brooks's kind in- social gathering, next Tues- vitation to a social gather- day evening, at 8 o'clock. ing, next Tuesday evening. 32 W. 31st Street, Oct. 5. 160 Fifth Ave., Oct. 5. IV. The Conclusion. — The conclusion consists of the complimentary close and the signature. The forms of the complimentary close are many, and are determined by the relation of the writer to the one addressed. In letters of friendship you may use Your sincere friend ; Yours affectionately ; Your loving son or daughter^ etc. In busi- ness letters you may use Yours j Yours truly j Truly yours; Yours respectfully; Very respectfully yours, etc. In official letters use / have the honor to be, Sir, your obedient servant ; Very respectfully^ your most obedient servant, etc., etc. The signature consists of your christian name and your surname. In addressing a stranger write your christian name in full. A lady addressing a stranger should prefix her title — Aliss or Mrs. — to her own name. How Written. — The conclusion should begin near the middle of the first line below the body of the letter, and should slope to the right like the heading and the ad- dress. Begin each line of it with a capital letbe^r, and Letter- Writing. 2 1 9 punctuate as in other writing, following the whole with a period. The signature should be very plain. V. The Supekscription. — The superscription is what is written on the outside of the envelope. It is the same as the address, consisting of the name, the titles, and the full directions of the one addressed. How Written. — The superscription should begin near the middle of the envelope and near the left edge, and should occupy three or four lines. The beginnings of these lines should slope to the right as in the heading and the address, the spaces between the lines should be the same, and the last line should end near the lower right-hand corner. On the first line the name and the titles should stand. If the one addressed is in a city, the door-number and name of the street should be on the second line, the name of the city on the third, and the name of the state on the fourth. If he is in the country, the name of the post-office should be on the second line, the name of the county, if used, on the third (or by itself near the lower left-hand corner), and the name of the state on the fourth. The titles following the name should be separated from it and from each other by the comma, and every line should end with a comma except the last, which should be followed by a period. The lines should be straight, and the superscription legible. LESSON Y8. LETTER-WRITING, BIOGRAPHIES, ESSAYS. Direction. — Put together the headings and the introductions given in the preceding Lesson, let a few blank lines represent the body of the letter, conclude with a fitting complimentary close, and your sig- nature, and superscribe, using the forms below as models: — 2 20 Productions — Written Prose. s appo.nt- ment wiU have a great effect in cementing and -cunng he union of these colonies. The contment is really m earnest m defending the country. They have voted ^en compan es o^ riflemen to be sent from Pennsylvania. Maryland, -d V ^S'"'^ to ioin the army before Boston. These are an excellent species on °ht infantry' They use a peculiar kind of musket called a rme It has grooves within the barrel, and carries a ball with great exaetnefs to great distances. They are the most accurate Tb:rt:Vorw°eltu notsitallsnmmer. I hope the people of ourCrovince will treat the General with all that eonhdenee :ld affettion. that politeness and respect, which -e due to on of the most important characters ,n the world. The liberties of America depend upon him. in a great degree I have never been able to obtain from our province any regular and partieu- Inr intellicrence since I left it. I hav found this Congress like the last. When we firs came together. I found a strong jealousy of us from New England Tnd Massachusetts in particular; suspicions e^-f ;f de- signsof independency; an f ™e"can republ. ^Pre byter„ ciples ; and twenty other things. Our =™timents w Congress with great caution, and seemed to make but little im prTsi::; but L longer we s-. the more clearfy^ey saw h necessity of pushing vigorous measures. ^^^^TLlZr^. Every day we sit, the more we are convinced that the des, ns aSnst "s are hostile and sanguinary, and that nothing but for- titude, vigor, and perseverance ^an save us. But America is a great unwieldy body. Its progress mus be slow. It is like a large fleet sailing under convoy. Tl.e fleetest sailers must wait for the dullest and s owest. Lik. a coach and six. the swiftest horses must be slackened, and the slowest quickened, that all may keep an even pace. lU long since I heard from you. I fear you have been kept in continull alarms. My duty and love to all. My dear chd- dren, come here and kiss me. We have appointed ^ ConUnenta fast Millions will be upon their knees at once before their 2 24 Prodttctions — Written Prose. great Creator, imploring his forgiveness and blessing; his smiles on American councils and arms. My duty to your Uncle Ouincy ; your papa, mamma, and mine ; my brothers and sisters, and yours. To the Teacher. — Have your pupils write complete letters and notes of all kinds. You can name the persons to whom these are to be addressed. Attend minutely to all the points. Letters of introduc- tion should have the word Introducing (followed by the name of the one introduced) at the lower left-hand corner of the envelope. This letter should not be sealed. The receiver may seal it before handing it to the one addressed. Continue this work of letter-writing until the pupils have mastered all the details, and are able easily and quickly to write any ordinary letter. Biographies. — A biography is a written work descrip- tive of one's life and character. It is a history, setting before us what manner of man the subject of it was and what he did. If a stateman, a distinguished general, or one in any way eminent in public life, a biography of him is largely a history of his times. A biography pic- tures the early and the later life of its subject, tells us what were his talents, his natural bent and surround- ings, what his environment did in shaping his character and determining his life, what he became in consequence or in spite of it, what he did, and what was his influence upon his times. Biography deals much with character. In this work the biographer is helped by the letters of his subject. In these the man speaks more fully and frankly than in his public efforts. His hopes and fears, his struggles, defeats, and triumphs have tongue in his letters, and in these he opens himself to us. And so, especially in recent times, letters form a large part of biographies — often the most valuable part. Biographies abound in personal incidents and anecdotes which turn Biographies arid Essays. 225 the flash of an electric light upon one's character, which give us the key to what might remain locked without them. The works of literature cannot be rightly read till we know under what circumstances they were writ- ten, what was the author's natural fitness for his task, and what were his limitations. What would not the ad- mirers of Shakespeare's plays give to know more of his early life and training at Stratford, and his later life in London ! An autobiography is a biography written by the sub- ject of it. A memoir is a brief sketch of one's life and character. It has been, and is still, a question whether the lives of men great in intellect and in executive ability, but not eminent in moral virtues, should be fully portrayed. It is difficult to see what good can come from an exhibi- tion of one's vices, unless out of these some of his note- worthy achievements sprang. While the biographer should not, in what he says of him, misrepresent the man, he is not bound fully to present him. The man's private life does not belong to the public, it is his own. De mortuis nil fiisi bonum — of the dead nothing should be spoken save what is good — may carry suppression to the point of distortion ; but certainly the biographer wrongs T\o one in drawing a veil before so much of a man's evil nature as had little or no influence in shaping his public career. Great interest will always be felt in this department of literature. "The proper study of mankind is man," and certainly no study has greater fascination for us. The lives of others teach us invaluable lessons, and are an incentive to honest and even heroic endeavor. Biog- raphies are of essential service to the historian, and con- stitute a most important part of literature. 226 Productions — W7'itten Prose. Essays. — An essay is a short composition upon any subject. The subject may be of any kind whatever, one fit for treatment, and with great fulness, in any of the species of discourse described above, or one without sufficient dignity for such treatment. No other species of writing ranges over so wide and varied a field of top- ics — nothing less than that of all others combined — and none other allows such freedom and diversity in the handling;. In style of thought the essay may be dreamy and semi- poetical, and charm by its beauty, it may be simply in- structive or critical, it may blaze with its brilliancy, sting with its satire, convulse with its humor, convince with its logic, inflame with its appeal and move to in- stant duty. The author may wander off in leisurely ex- cursions to the right and the left, and load his pages with gleanings by the way ; or, like the orator, he may keep his eye on the point he would reach, and move, with the directness of an arrow's flight, toward it. The style of expression should fit the thought, and Oc- tober woods are not more varied in color than this de- partment of literature in utterance. Essays, as the name indicates, are not ambitious works. Their subjects are specific, and the view the au- thor allows himself to take is narrow rather than com- prehensive. They are monographs, aiming each to pre- sent a single thing in a clear light. Most modern writers spend their probation in essay-writing, and no better training for larger works can be devised. Essays are usually written for the monthlies or the quarterlies, and hence are prepared for readers of scholarly tastes and some culture. If they have met with favor, they are gathered together and issued in book form, and so pass in permanent shape into our libraries. Scheme for the Review of Pilose. 227 A SCHEME FOR REVIEW. Oral. < The three Departments of Mind determining the three Di- visions of Discourse. I. Conversation— Three Things it Ac- complishes. II. Debate— Burden of Proof and Pre- sumption. III. Oration — Subject, Framework, Treat- ment, Parts. IV. Speeches— Style and Value. Cam- paign and After-Dinner Speeches, and Harangues. V. Lectures and Addresses. VI. Pleas. VII. Sermons. I. Treatises. II. Histories — Topics, Spirit, Style. III. Books of Travel. IV. Fiction— Purpose, Place. Allegories, Fables, and Parables. V. Letters — Purpose and the five Parts — Heading, Introduction, Body of the Letter, Conclusion, and Superscrip- tion. VI. Biographies. Autobiographies and Memoirs. Vn. Essays— Style of thought and of Ex- pression. en o i Written. 2 28 Prodiutions — Poetry '. LESSON TO. POETRY. Two of the three great divisions of discourse we have spoken of — oral prose, which addresses itself to the will, and leads to action ; and written prose, which is mainly intended to instruct the intellect. We come now to the second division of written, and to the last of the three divisions of all, discourse — Poetry. — Poetry is that division of discourse which is rhythmical and metrical, and is addressed to the feel- ings. Poetry differs from prose in three particulars (i) in its mission, (2) in its style, and (3) in its form. I. Its Mission. — The mission of poetry is to bring sus- tenance to that part of our nature which lies in between the intellect and the will — that part which enjoys and which suffers, which is open to every disturbing influence and responds to every touch of impression — the feelings. Poetry, the most artistic department of literature, is near of kin, in its effects, to music and to painting. The poet is an artist, sensitive to impressions to which ordi- nary nerves do not tingle. His eye detects a beauty, and a meaning in things — a beauty and a meaning which escape ordinary vision. His effort is to put this meaning into a picture, in which words are his colors, bringing all parts of it into symmetry, knowing that the many, blind to what he sees, will see and appreciate what he does. The most of poetry is too ethereal in spirit to in- habit a body so gross as that of prose. Prose is mascu- line and matter-of-fact, the " common drudge 'tween man and man." You can harness it to the light vehicles Mission of Poetry. 229 of conversation, you can hitch it to the lumbering trains of argument. Homely, serviceable, and built to wear, prose is a draught-horse, and will drag your heavy drays of thought from premise to conclusion. But it lacks the grace of form and of movement which you demand for your "turnouts" on the boulevard and in the park. Poetry is feminine. It takes to itself a delicacy of form, a warmth of coloring, and a richness of expression alien to prose. Poetry deals with things as October light with the objects upon which it falls, painting everything it touches in its most bewitching colors. Nothing is so insignificant that it has not a poetic side to it, and may not furnish the poet a subject for his verse, and nothing is too high for the poet's reach. His eye catches glimpses and suggestions of outward and of inward beauty ; and, in the play of imagination, he works them up now into studies and now into finished pictures, which cling to the walls of our memories, and stream their gracious in- fluences down upon our feelings in our dark hours and in all our hours, a never failing source of consolation and delight. Of all literature, poetry has in it the least of objective purpose, the most of spontaneity. No great moral pur- pose, no purpose of mere instruction is consciously cherished by the poet as he writes. Some phase of out- ward beauty, some deed disclosing inward grace, or some glimpse of spiritual loveliness has been vouchsafed him, and he hastens to give form to his conception be- fore it vanishes ; he is concerned only that he may fitly embody in verse the sweet vision that has dawned upon him. In just the ratio that the poet aims to give in- struction or to turn any wheel of reform, great or small, does he abdicate his own function and seek to usurp that of the prose-writer. Not that poetry may not teach, 230 Productions — Poetry. may not even preach; it may and does, but it does these things, when it does them, incidentally. It cannot sub- ordinate its own proper vocation of ministering to the feelings to any other purpose without proving false to its own mission, false to the mission of all fine art. But no thoughtful person sets a light value upon this incidental work which all art, which poetry, its chief branch, performs upon our intellect and upon our moral nature. We are not to disparage poetry as an enlight- ening and as a reforming agency because it works inten- tionally neither upon the intellect nor upon the will. It works effectively upon both, even if incidentally — all the more effectively, as it would be easy to show, because incidentally. Besides, the intellect takes more than miller's toll of the thought poetry contains, it appropri- ates the whole ; and the feelings, to which poetry inten- tionally ministers, react upon our intellectual faculties, and rouse them from any lethargy into which they may have fallen. And the feelings lie close, on the other side, to the will, which never acts save as they furnish the occasion and the motive. II. Its Style. — i. Words. — Poetry does not confine itself to the language of conversation or of common life. It selects words for their beauty of sound and associa- tion, for their picturesqueness, for their elevation — rare words often, words that are even obsolete in prose. 2. Arrangement. — It uses the transposed order in a de- gree forbidden in conversation, unpardonable even in impassioned oratory. It condenses clauses into single epithets. " Imperfect periods are frequent ; elisions are perpetual ; and many of the minor words, which would be deemed essential in prose, are dispensed with." 3. Imagery. — Spencer says, " Metaphors, similes, hy- perboles, and personifications are the poet's colors, Poetry — Its Form — Rhythm. 2 3 1 which he has liberty to employ almost without limit. We characterize as 'poetical ' the prose which uses these appliances of language with any frequency ; and con- demn it as ' over-florid ' or ' affected ' long before they occur with the profusion allowed in verse." Direction.-Study this extract from Lowell's "Vision of Sir Laun- fal," and note how these three points are illustrated :— Within the hall are song and laughter, The cheeks of Christmas glow red and jolly, And sprouting is every corbel and rafter With the lightsome green of ivy and holly-, Through the deep gulf of the chimney wide Wallows the Yule-log's roaring tide : The broad flame-pennons droop and flap And belly and tug as a flag in the wind ; Like a locust shrills the imprisoned sap, Hunted to death in its galleries blind; And swift little troops of silent sparks, Now pausing, now scattering away as in fear, Go threading the soot-forest's tangled darks Like herds of startled deer. III. Its Form.— In treating of the form of poetry, we shall group all we have to say, under the three heads of rhythm, metre, and rhyme. I. Rhythm.— Rhythm is that arrangement of words which allows the alternate stress and remission of the voice in reading. For each sequence of stress and re- mission, of strong and weak impulse, of the voice, two or three syllables are regularly required. The rhythm-accent is the stroke, stress, or strong im- pulse of the voice which falls upon certain syllables. In English and in other modern poetry, the rhythm-accent must agree with the word-accent — must fall upon the 232 ProdiLctions — Poetry. syllable of the word which is accented in prose. For this reason ours is called an accentual rhythm. In Latin and Greek the rhythm-accent falls upon a long syllable, a syllable whose vowel is long by nature or by position, a syllable requiring a long time for its enunciation. Hence ancient rhythm is said to be based upon quantity. It is thought that these two rhythmical systems, theirs and ours, are so unlike as to be in antagonism. But we must remember that, in the ordinary pronunciation of an English word, we dwell longer upon the accented syllable than upon one not accented ; that the syllable becomes Jong by this detention of the voice upon it, and hence presents itself as long for the rhythm-accent. Rhythm, then, in English, even if we call it accentual, rests ulti- mately, as in Latin and Greek, upon time, or quantity, the syllable receiving the rhythm-accent taking long time for its enunciation, the unaccented syllable or sylla- bles short time. And what if it should turn out, as our greatest American philologist, Prof. Hadley, virtually claims, that, in their ordinary speech, the Greeks did not pronounce the accented syllable with any or, if any, with any striking increase of force ! It is inconceivable that, in reciting his poetry, the Greek or Roman should give both rhythmic-stress and word-stress when these did not fall upon the same syllable ; and it is also inconceivable that he should neglect the word-stress, in the recitation, if, in ordinary speech, it was as marked in his language as in ours. In the one case there would be no propor- tion, no music, in the verse thus read ; in the other, the word, robbed of its customary strong accent, would not be recognized by the hearer. We conclude, then, that as with us, the rhythm-accent, falling upon the syllable having the word-accent, is in harmony with it, so in the Greek, the word-accent not being distinguished by Kinds oj Feet. 233 marked stress of voice, the rhythm-accent could not no- ticeably clash with it, and that, therefore, between the ancient rhythmical system and our own, the alleged an- tagonism, or radical difference, is imaginary. It is to be noted that this alternation of long syllables with short or of short with long and the accompanying variety of force and volume of voice in the reading of poetry give it, in part, its musical quality, and make it so delightful to the ear. ' A foot is the combination of two or three syllables which requires this compound movement of the voice in the reading. Any syllable of the foot may receive the rhythm-accent. A trochee, ^ v_," is a dissyllabic foot ac- cented on the first syllable ; an iambuSr^ ^, is a dissyl- labic foot accented on the second syllable; a dactyl, ^ ^ ^, is a trisyllabic foot accented on the first syllable ; an amphibrach, ^ x. ^^ is a trisyllabic foot accented on the second syllable ; and an anapaest, .^ ^ ^, is a trisyllabic foot accented on the third syllable. Verse is poetry, and a verse is a single line of poetry. Verses with trochaic feet: — Other I arms may | press thee " Dearer | friends ca | ress thee. Verses with iambic feet: — His books I were ri | vers, woods 1 and skies. The mead | ow and | the moor. Verses with dactyllic feet: — Flashed all their | sabres bare, I I Flashed as they | turned in air, ^ — - v^ Sabring the ( gunners there. 234 Prodtutions — Poetry, Verses with amphibrachic feet: — The waters | are flashing, The white hrdl | is dashing, The hghtnings | are glancing, The hoar-spray | is dancing. Verses with anapaestic feet: — / / / •/ The volca | noes are dim | and the stars | reel and swim When the whirl | winds my ban | ner unfurl. A stanza is a group of two, three, four, or more verses separated from other verses on the page. A poem is a collection of verses, grouped into stanzas or not, written on some one topic. Scansion is the reading of poetry so as to mark the rhythm. It must not be supposed that all the feet of a poem, a stanza, or even of a single verse, are necessarily of the same kind. It would not be easy for the poet to com- pose a succession of such verses ; it would be tiresome to the ear to listen to lines so monotonous in their struc- ture. A succession of verses so constructed, one might almost say a single verse so constructed, is rare. The kind of foot beginning the poem should continue till the tongue and ear have caught the prevailing rhythm, then here and there other feet may be substituted for it. The substitutions should not be so frequent as to lead one to doubt what the prevailing rhythm was meant to be. Substituted Feet. — If a foot accented on the last syl- lable, an iambus or an anapaest, cannot, without a pause after it, be followed by a foot accented on the first syl- lable, a trochee or a dactyl, because this would bring two Sitbstituted Feet. 235 accented syllables together : and, if, as Abbott and See- ley assert, three clearly pronounced unaccented syllables cannot stand together, and so an anapaest cannot follow a trochee ; an iambus or an amphibrach or an anapaest cannot follow a dactyl ; and an anapaest cannot follow an amphibrach ; then the substitutions will be some- what limited. In a trochaic verse, an iambus may be substituted for the last trochee, and a dactyl or an am- phibrach for any trochee, represented thus: ±. .^, ^_l; -^w,jL-_.w or ^-_w,-^w;-^^,w^v_ or^^^,_^^. In an iambic verse, an amphibrach or an anapaest may be sub- stituted for any iambus, represented thus : ^ jl, ^ ^ -^ or ^-^w,w^; ^-^, ^ -^ -^ or ^ ^ _^, ^^, In adactyllic verse, a trochee may be substituted for any dactyl, represented thus: _i.^^,_i. ^or^^,_i.ww. In an amphibrachic verse, a trochee or an iambus may be substituted for any am- phibrach, or a dactyl for the last^ represented thus : ^ ^^, / or ' / • / / or ' / • / / In an anapaestic verse, an iambus may be substituted for any anapaest, or an amphibrach for the /as^, represented thus: ^ _ jl, ^ -^ or ^ ^, ^ ^ jL ; w w -^, w -^ w These are the possible substitutions of dissyllabic feet for trisyl- labic or of trisyllabic feet for dissyllabic, if we do nof allow the claim that a foot accented on the last syllable may be followed by a foot accented on the first syllable provided the voice is given time to recover itself between the feet ; and if we do allow the claim made by Abbott and Seeley. But we have purposely passed by the monosyllabic foot. It is sometimes found at the beginning of a verse, some- times in the middle, very frequently at the end, and now and then a whole verse is made up of such feet. These words in Italics are illustrations of its use : — 236 Prodicctio7is — Poetry, 1. Toll, I 'oil, i'oll. Thou bell | by bil j lows swung. Ill I 2. Higher, | higher | will we | climb III Up the I mount of | glory, 3. Strike j for your al | tars and | yoiir fires. 4. Bury the | Great Diike. Direction. — Scan these verses (which illustrate all the substitutions described above), name the prevalent foot and the feet which are sub- stituted: — r 1. Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward. 2. Erin, my country, though sad and forsaken. 3. And again to the child I whispered. 4. Lesbia hath a beaming eye, Lesbia hath a robe of gold. 5. Then far below in the peaceful sea. 6. Then with eyes that saw not I kissed her. 7. Never, never, believe me, Never, never, alone. 8. Then let memory bring thee. 9. But rapture and beauty they cannot recall. LESSON 80. SCANSION. As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of green To the billows of foam-crested blue, Yon bark, that afar in the distance is seen, Half dreaming, my eyes will pursue: General Remarks upon Scansion, 237 Now dark in the shadow, she scatters the spray. As the chaff in the stroke of the flail ; Now white as the sea-gull, she flies on her way, The sun gleaming bright on her sail. General Remarks. — The prevailing foot above is the anapaest. Only the first foot in each of the verses 3, 4, 5, 7, and 8 varies from this, is an iambus. Each iambus is made, in the scansion, to have the same time as an anapaest. In pronouncing Yon^ Half, Now, etc., we dwell as long upon each as upon the two unaccented feet of any anapaest. . Let us say generally that, in scan- sion, any substituted foot has the same time as the foot for which it is substituted. In this way is preserved, what should never be violated, the equal times of the feet in a line, or verse. Upon this depend the propor- tion, the music, the beauty of rhythm, depends the rhythm itself. This applies to the monosyllabic foot as well as to the others — // must have the time of the foot whose place it takes. Notice that, though the rhythm-accent must fall upon the syllable having the word-accent, it need not fall upon every such syllable. Gleam in glea?ning, verse 8, has a word-accent, but in the scansion has no rhythm-accent. You will see hereafter that upon a long word more than a single rhythm-accent may fall. Notice, too, that the unimportant words, those which, in expressing the sense, we should touch lightly in read- ing, are the ones upon which the rhythm-accent seldom falls. This is as it should be. Rhythm should not dis- guise the thought by conflicting with the lights and shades of emphasis through which the reader reveals to the hearer the relative importance of the ideas. Yet unemphatic words do sometimes take the rhythm-accent as in these lines : — ■ 238 Productions — Poetry. 1. Vice is a monster ^so frightful mien As to be hated needs but to be seen. 2. Worth makes the man and want of // the fellow. Of the amphibrach it is proper to say that it is disal- lowed by many critics, and some who allow it admit that, perhaps, it is not required in English poetry. By making the first foot of an amphibrachic line an iambus, the remaining feet are converted into anapaests, with an extra unaccented syllable at the close. But there is no reason why the first and the last syllable of a trisyllabic foot should monopolize the accent. It is certain that the use of the amphibrach in scansion prevents many ir- regularities, and often makes the line more musical. The rhythmical flow of example 9, Lesson 79, seems more delightful if we regard the verse as amphibrachic, with an iambus at the close, than it would be if we scanned it as anapaestic with an iambus at the begin- ning. Perhaps the same might be claimed of the five verses we have noticed in the extract at the head of this Lesson. The iambus seems to be the commonest foot in Eng- lish poetry. There being two hastily uttered syllables in each trisyllabic foot, it will be seen that this foot gives a light tripping movement to the verse, and affords great relief to the ear when occasionally substituted for the dissyl- labic foot. The caesura, a pause, or rest, for the voice, so much used in ancient poetry with verses of six feet each, oc- curring at the end of a word and usually between the syllables of the third foot, is found in English poetry also, especially where the verse is very long. It serves to break the lines into parts as in these : — CccsiLva and Elision. 239 You mti'sti wake and/::all me fearly, | call me early, mother dear; To-morrow'll be the happiest time | of all the glad New-Year ; Of all the glad New-Year, mother, | the maddest, merriest day ; For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, | I m to be Queen b' the May. It may be found in verse of fewer feet, but it would be difficult to show that we often observe it in verses of ordinary length. Abbott and Seeley show that in the middle of the third foot in each of these lines: — Eternal 's>\insJinie of the spotless mind. Each prayer accepttv/ a)id each wish resigned, there occurs a caesura — in each verse the voice pausing for a rest at the end of a word which breaks the foot into two equal parts. Lowell says that the caesura has no place in accentual rhythm. Elision is the running together of tvv'o syllables into one by the dropping of one or more letters. This may sometimes be necessary in English verse, but some of our best critics claim that in all cases it can be avoided by supposing that, where it seems to be needed, the poet substituted a trisyllabic foot for a dissyllabic. In the verse, The illumined pages of his Doom's-Day book, we must run The and // of the first foot together, if we would preserve the iambic foot throughout. But, if we call the first foot an anapaest, there is no need of elision. Direction. — Scan these extracts, name the prevalent foot in each, and the feet that are substituted : — I. Queen and huntress, chaste and fair. Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep, 2 40 Productions — Poeti^y. Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess, excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose. Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear, when day did close. Bless us, then, with wished sight, Goddess, excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-gleaming quiver : Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever, — Thou that mak'st a day of night, Goddess, excellently bright. Ben Jonson. 2. Is this a time to be cloudy and sad. When our Mother Nature laughs around, When even the deep blue heavens look glad. And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground ? There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, And the gossip of swallows through all the sky ; The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den, And the wilding bee hums merrily by. The clouds are at play in the azure space. And their shadows at play on the bright green vale ; And here they stretch to the frolic chase. And there they roll on the easy gale. There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree. There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea, Extracts for Scaniimg. 241 And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, On the leaping waters and gay young isles! Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away. Bryant. •?. Break, break, break, , •" , ' On thy cold, gray stones, O sea ! / And I would /that my tonguelcould utter The thoughts that arise in mfe. Oh, well for the fisherman's boy That he shouts with his sister at play! Oh, well for the sailor lad That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But oh for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break. At the foot of thy crags, O sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. Tennyson. 4. Listen, my boy, and hear all at^out it — I don't know what I could do without it ; I've owned one now; for more than a year, And like it so well I call it " my dear ' ; 'Tis the cleverest thing \that ever was seen. This wonderKd fantily seWing-macliiriei It's non^ of yQur apgular Wheeler things, With steel-sho^d beak and cast-iron wings ; Its work would bother a hundred of his. And worth a thousand ! Indeed it is ; 242 Productions — Poetry. And has a way — you needn't stare — Of combing and braiding its own back hair. Mine is one of the kind to love, And wear a shawl and a soft kid glove ; None of your patent machines for me, Unless Dame Nature is the patentee ; I like the sort that can laugh and talk. And take my arm for an evening walk. One that can love, and will not flirt, And make a pudding, as well a shirt ; Ready to give the sagest advice, Or do up your collars and things so nice. What do you think of my machine ? Is it not the best that ever was seen ? Anon. 5. But lon^ upon Araby's sunny green highlands. Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom Of her who lies sleeping amoog the Pearl Isla'nds, / With nought but the sea-star to light up her tomb. And still when the merry date-season is burning. And calls to the palm-groves the young and the old, The happiest there, from the pastime returning At sunset, will weep when thy story is told. Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ; With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreathed chamber We, Peris of ocean, by moonlight have slept. We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head ; We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian are sparkling, And gather their gold to strew over thy bed. Moore. Ext7^acts for Scanning. 243 Say, shall we (yield Him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom and offerings divine? Gems of the mountains and pearls of the ocean ? Myrrh from the forest or gold from the mine ? Vainly we offer such ample oblation; Vainly with gifts would his favor secure : Richer by far is the heart's adoration > Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid. Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. Bishop Heber. 7. Drunk and senseless in his place, Prone and sprawling on his face, __ ^--» More like brute than any man, lyi^- Alive or dead. By his great pump out of gear. Lay the peon engineer. Waking only just to hear Overhead Angry tones that called his name. Oaths and cries of bitter blame, — Woke to hear all this, and waking, turned and fled. " To the man who'll bring to me," Cried Intendant Harry Lee, — Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine, — " Bring the sot, alive or dead, I will give to him," he said, " Fifteen hundred pesos down. Just to set the rascal's crown Underneath this heel of mine : 244 Prodiictions — Poetry. Since but death Deserves the man whose deed, Be it vice or want of heed, Stops the pumps that give us breath, — Stops the pumps that suck the death From the poisoned lower levels of the mine," Bret Harte. Do you ne^er think what wondrous beings these ? Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught The dialect they speak, w^here melodies Alone are the interpreters of thought ? Whose household words are songs in many keys. Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught. Whose habitations in the tree-tops even Are half-way houses on the road to heaven. Think, every morning when the sun peeps through The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, How jubilant the happy birds renew Their old, melodious madrigals of love ! And when you think of this, remember, too, 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore. Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. Think of your woods and orchards without birds! Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams, As in an idiot's brain remembered words Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams ! Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds Make up for the lost music, when your teams Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more The feathered gleaners follow to your door.'* And so the dreadful massacre began ; O'er fields and orchards and o'er woodland crests. The ceaseless fusillade of terror ran. Dead fell the birds, with blood-stains on their breasts. Metre, 245 Or wounded crept away from sight of man, While the young died of famine in their nests ; A slaughter to be told in groans, not words, The very St. Bartholomew of Birds! That year in Killingworth the Autumn came Without the light of his majestic look, The wonder of the falling tongues of flame, The illumined pages of his Doom's-Day book. A few lost leaves blushed crimson with their shame. And drowned themselves despairing in the brook. While the wild wind went moaning everywhere. Lamenting the dead children of the air. Longfellow. LESSON 81. METRE AND RHYME. Under the general head of the form of poet fv, we have spoken, and at some length, of rhythui. We pass now to a closely related branch of the same subject — 2. Metre. — Metre is the quality of a poem determined by the number of feet in a regular verse. The number of feet which the verses regularly have determining the metre of the poem, metre should not be confounded, as it so often is, with rhythm. Rhythm concerns itself with the arrangement of syllables into feet, and it is the regular recurrence of the accent which divides the line into these syllabic combinations. It is the number of feet in each line or, if this is not constant, in the pre- vailing line, which constitutes the metre of a poem. You have already seen, and will again see, that the num- ber of feet in the verses of a poem is not always the 246 Productions — Poetry. same. But the variations from the standard number must occur with regularity. Poetry to be poetry must be rhythmical, but not all poetry has been metrical. Anglo-Saxon poetry was not always — verses not having each the same number of feet occur in an A. S. poem, and not always in fixed and regular sequence, or order of succession. Rhythm, then, is more vital to poetry than is metre. Even a prose sentence, as we saw in Lesson 72, might be rhythmical, might demand of the reader at least a single swell and sinking of the voice, but prose could hardly be metrical. Metre, the regular succession of poetical feet, falls in like rhythm with our craving for proportion, modulation, regularity, and is in keeping with the spirit and mission of poetry. The metre of a verse consisting of two feet is called dimeter ; of one of three feet trimeter of four feet tetram- eter ; of five feet pentameter ; of six feet hexameter. A line of one foot, if such there be, is called monometer. These words are simply names of the number of feet in a line. The metre of a poem will be that of its standard verse. Direction. — Name the metre of each extract in the preceding Les- son. If there are verses which do not have the standard metre of the extract, name theirs. Metre of Psalms and Hymns. — Certain religious poems, called psalms and hymns and set to music, are written in metres with peculiar names. A psalm or hymn in long metre, marked L. M , is made up of four- line stanzas, each line tetrameter, as this: — O Lord divine, that stooped to share Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear. On thee we cast each earthborn care. We smile at pain while thou art near. Metre of Psalms and Hymns. 247 Though long the weary way we tread, And sorrow crown each lingering year, No paths we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near. A psalm or hymn in common metre, marked C. M., con- sists of four-line stanzas, the first and third line tetrame- ter, and the second and fourth trimeter, as this: — No mortal can with him compare Among the sons of men ; Fairer is he than all the fair That fill the heavenly train. A psalm or hymn in short metre, marked S. M., con- sists of four-line stanzas, the third line tetrameter, and the first, second, and fourth trimeter, as this: — Stand up and bless the Lord, Ye people of his choice ; Stand up and bless the Lord your God With heart and soul and voice. A hymn in hallelujah metre, marked H. M., consists of eight-line stanzas (the last four sometimes written as two), the first, second, third, and fourth trimeter, and the remaining four dimeter, as this: — The warbling notes pursue, And louder anthems raise. While mortals sing with you Their own Redeemer's praise; And thou, my heart. With equal flame And joy the same Perform thy part. 248 Productions — Poetry. A hymn in long particular metre, marked L. P. M., con- sists of six-line stanzas, all tetrameter, as this: — Judges, who rule the world by laws, Will ye despise the righteous cause, When the oppressed before you stands? Dare ye condemn the righteous poor. And let rich sinners go secure, While gold and greatness bribe your hands ? Other hymns, marked 4's or 8's or 6's or 8's and 7's, etc., etc., are found in our books. These numerals mark the number of syllables in a verse. Rhythm and metre, two of the three elements which determine the form of poetry, have been examined and illustrated. We come now to the third and last ele- ment, which is not necessary but accidental. 3. Rhyme. — Rhyme is the accordance in sound of the final syllables of verses. A couplet is the two verses which rhyme with each other. The rhyming syllables must not be completely identical in sound but only simi- lar — identical from the accented vowel to the end, as in this couplet: — A man he was to all the country dear And passing rich with forty pounds a year. If the final foot in each verse of the couplet is accented on the last syllable but one, — is a trochee or an amphi- brach — the syllables next to the last must rhyme, the last syllables, in this case, being identical. Such rhymes, called double rhymes, are illustrated in the first and third verses below: — But the young, young children, O my hrothers. Do you ask them why they stand Weeping sore before the bosoms of their mothers In our happy father-land ? L ine-R hyrne a nd A llitei^ation. 2 49 If the final foot in each verse of the couplet is a dactyl, the last syllable but two in one verse is that which must rhyme with the corresponding syllable in the other. Such rhymes, called triple rhymes, are illustrated in the first and third verses below: — Take her up tenderly. Lift her with care, Fashioned so slenderly^ Young and so fair. Line-Rhyme is the agreement in sound between the final letters of two words or of two syllables of words in the same verse, as in these lines which we borrow from Marsh: — 1. Her loo/l' was \\ke the morning star. 2. Here in fro;// you can see the very di;// of the bullet. 3. Long at the wi;z^/ow he stood, and wistfully gazed on the law^scape. These verses from Poe, Marsh would say, do not con- tain line-rhymes, since at beams and rise the first and third lines might be broken, each into two, and then the rhyme would be terminal, or ordinary, rhyme: — For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. Alliteration, the repetition of the same letter or let- ters at the beginning of words, is also found in poetry, as in these verses: — 1. There /ived in Zombardy, as authors write, In days old a wise and worthy Knight. 2. And rivulets, rejoicing, rush and leap. 3. He rushed into the yield, and /bremost fighting, /ell, 4. 5/eady, i-/raightforward, and j-Zrong, with irresistible logic. 250 Prodtictions — Poetry. Rhyme proper, or terminal rhyme, line-rhyme and alliteration are all repetitions of similar sounds. They are agreeable to the ear in poetry. They accord with the other appliances by which the form of poetry is fitted to the spirit, and deepen the effect upon the feel- ings. Direction. — Point out all illustrations of these in the preceding Lesson. Rhyme in English is more difficult than it is in lan- guages highly inflected, and abounding in common terminations. It has been estimated that casting out the English words incapable of rhyme, the ratio of those which have rhymes to the total number of rhym- ing endings is as three to one ; or, to turn it about, the number of different rhymes in English to the words having them is as one to three. This is very much less than in many other modern languages. This poverty in rhyme in English accounts for many inexact rhymes — some of which may be seen in the extracts of the pre- ceding Lesson — and for the introduction and wide adop- tion, especially in long poems, of blank-verse. Blank- Verse is verse without rhyme. Here are a few lines in it : — But, looking deep, he saw The thorns which grow upon this rose of life : How the swart peasant sweated for his wage, Toiling for leave to live ; and how he urged The great-eyed oxen through the flaming hours. Goading their velvet flanks : then marked he, too, How lizard fed on ant, and snake on him, And kite on both ; and how the fish-hawk robbed The fish-tiger of that v/hich it had seized ; The shrike chasing the bulbul, which did chase The jewelled butterflies ; till everywhere Kinds of Poetry. 2 5 1 Each slew a slayer and in turn was slain, Life living upon death. So the fair show Veiled one vast, savage, grim conspiracy Of mutual murder, from the worm to man. Who himself kills his fellow ; seeing which — The hungry ploughman and his laboring kine, Their dewlaps blistered with the bitter yoke, The rage to live which makes all living strife — The Prince Siddartha sighed. Direction. — Scan the poetry of this Lesson. LESSON 82. WRITTEN DISCOURSE — POETRY, KINDS OF. Didactic Poetry. — Didactic poetry is that which aims to teach. But to call that which directly aims to teach, poetry, is to be guilty of a misnomer. In so far as po- etry aims directly at instruction, it usurps, as has been said, the function of prose. Prose is free from all the artifices and all the restraints of poetry — rhythm, metre, rhyme — those peculiarities of poetry which solicit our thoughts from the subject-matter, and fix them atten- tively upon the expression of it. That poetry, then, which essays to teach, "defeats its strong intent," the charm and fascination of the form withdrawing us from the instruction conveyed; the instruction, if attended to, luring us away from the beauty of the expression. While, therefore, we call such compositions poetry, di- dactic poetry, we do it under protest, compelled to name that poetry which is poetic in form even if not in spirit. 252 Productions — Poetry. Satirical Poetry. — Satirical poetry is that which lashes the vices and follies of men. Its aim is destructive, its spirit often malevolent ; there is little of sweetness in it, the feelings which engender it and those to which it ministers are not the most healthful and humane. When the relations of poets to poets and to critics were less friendly or even courteous than they are now, poetry of this kind, in poems of great length, abounded. But since Addison's day, when English prose first overtook poetry and commenced running abreast with it, satire, as well as instruction, has sought expression through prose; and both satirical and didactic poetry have lost favor, and are not now cultivated as they were. The great satires of Dryden and of Pope did much, Thackeray thinks, to bring the profession of literature into contempt. Lyric Poetry. — Lyric poetry is that which is written to be sung. The range of its topics is wide, but the range of feelings which inspire it and which it inspires is nar- row ; within this realm, however, its reign is supreme. Lyric poetry may be divided into sacred and secular. Hymns and psalms, expressing our feelings toward God, constitute the one ; songs relating to battle, to patriot- ism, to party, and to sociality, and odes, elegies, and sonnets form the bulk of the other. The ode, a poem longer than an ordinary song and full of lofty passion ; the elegy, also a long poem whose burden is regret for the dead ; and the sonnet, a poem of fourteen lines, can- not always be called lyric now, if we rigidly restrict lyric to poetry which is sung. Prof. Hadley says, "The poetry of our day has been almost exclusively lyrical ; our poets have, to a singular extent, been song-writers." And he accounts for this by adding, " Moving hotly and hurriedly in the career of politics, or swallowed up in business, or prosecuting Pastoral and Epic Poetry. 253 science with a zeal never before paralleled, we have found no time for lengthened poems." The influence of lyric poetry is well expressed in that oft-quoted sentence of Sir Andrew Fletcher's, " If a man were permitted to make all the ballads of a nation, he need not care who should make its laws." For out of the very songs that we sing there steals an influence that enters into us, and does much to direct our conduct and shape our character, almost rendering needless the pow- erful restraints of law. Pastoral Poetry. — Pastoral poetry is that which deals with the objects of external nature. It finds its topics in the greenness and freshness of verdure, in the life and growth of spring ; in the sunrise and sunset, the sun- shine and rain of summer ; the yellow harvests, the rich coloring of the woods, the dreamy Indian summer days, and the gradual decadence of nature's growths in au- tumn ; and in the winds, the falling snow, the bracing out-door sports of winter. Flower and leaf and bird and insect, the scenery of mountain and valley aad rivers and lakes and clouds, rural life in all its changes, na- ture in all her moods — these not as matter for mere de- scription or for science, but as objects of beauty — these, seen by the eye of a Bryant, or by the keener eye of a Wordsworth — these are the subjects of pastoral poetry. No poetry is better understood or appreciated, and none is more popular. Poems of this kind, short, and endlessly varied in subject and in form, abound, and constitute a most entertaining and valuable part of poetic literature. Epic Poetry. — Epic poetry is that which deals with the life and adventures of some real or mythic person- age, called a hero. An epic poem is usually long — too long to be read at a single sitting. Intense feeling, such 2 54 Productions — Poetry. as poetry arouses, is in its nature exhausting, and in du- ration is, and must be, brief — '^ Violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die." The opinion of Poe that such a composition as " Paradise Lost" is not so truly a poem as a series of poems, seems to be gain- ing acceptance. Such sustained efforts are now rare in English, though not wholly of the past. We must take this statement of Hadley's, made in 1849, with some grains of allowance: "As for great constructive poems, vast systems of narrative, meditation, and description, built up in the deeps of an ideal world, they have well- nigh disappeared. In America, where the influences that oppose their construction are the strongest, we have nothing of the kind. The occasional attempts which we have seen in epic and dramatic composition have been generally unsuccessful. Yet this has been almost equally the case in England." An epic poem affords room for a vast variety of topics and of treatment, and demands of the poet a higher grade and a wider range of powers than are common. A great epic is the work of genius toiling it may be for years. It "does not need repeat," but insures at once the author's immortality. The heroic measure, the pentameter, is the metre gen- erally used in the English epic. The poem is written in blank-verse rather than in rhyme. A few great epics can be found in our inheritance of English literature. Dramatic Poetry. — Dramatic poetry is poetry written to be acted. Dramatic poetry exists in the form called plays. Written to be acted, these are written so that they can be acted. There is in them little that is common- place ; everything is positive and pronounced ; the pas- Dramatic Poetry. 255 sion is strong, often tumultuous, the thought is vigor- ous, the incidents exciting. The divisions of dramatic poetry commonly made are comedy and tragedy. Comedy is light and humorous, abounding in ludicrous action and incident. There is often a dash of satire in the wit, but its main purpose is to amuse. Tragedy is more earnest and serious, deals often with great men and lofty actions — with those ac- tions which lead to calamitous and even fatal issues. But comedy and tragedy are found side by side in the greatest dramas, as they are in real life. The human element is the prevailing one in dramatic poetry. Such poetry brings people of all grades of station, culture, and character upon the stage, there to act and talk as real men in their circumstances would do. It is by what they do and say, and by these alone, that they exhibit what manner of men and women they are. The great work of the dramatist is impersonation — the embodying and the revelation of character. This kind of poetry is in verse what fiction is in prose; indeed, plays not written in verse belong to that division of prose called fiction. History furnishes a favorite field for the dramatist. The real personages of the past or of the present, as the poet conceives them, are placed upon the stage before us, and are made to live over again some portion of their lives. In doing this and in uttering what the dramatist puts into their mouths, they stand out in the play more distinct and often truer to life than they do on the pages of history. Mark Antony, Julius Caesar, Coriolanus, and Cleopatra are better revealed in the dramas of Shake- speare than they are in "Plutarch's Lives." But the triumphs of dramatic art are better seen, per- 256 Prodiutions — Poctv) > haps, in its purely fictitious personages, representations of classes of men or women in real life. In the crea- tion of these, all the poet's knowledge of human nature in its broad features and in the delicate shades of character by which men differ, one from another, is brought into use. His ability to construct a plot and to invent opportunities for the development of his charac- ters — each made to influence others and their material surroundings to influence all — has widest scope and is put to the severest test. There is room here for profound insight, for imagination of high order, and for the most varied exercise of artistic skill. Without intending it as his main purpose, the poet makes a deep impression upon the intellect of the spectator or reader, and leaves some deposit upon his character. In dramatic poetry, the poet keeps himself behind the scenes and out of sight. His choices and his personality are not disclosed. The excellence of the play depends, in large part, on the poet's fidelity to nature, on his bringing into active exercise the proper agencies, and those only, and in allowing these to work out their natural issue without help or hindrance from him. Into dramatic poetry there are introduced description and narrative. There may be great variety of incident, but there must be unity of action, each part helping on every other, and all contributing to one result. Rhyme may occasionally alternate with blank-verse, and prose may be put into the mouths of some of the charac- ters, especially the more common, — even into the mouths of the greater characters in their more common moods. Concluding Remarks upon Poetry. — In his great paper upon Milton, Macaulay says, "As civilization ad- vances, poetry almost necessarily declines." The trutli of this assertion seems open to question. In its highest Remarks iLpou Poetry. 257 essentials, civilization had advanced in the two thousand years between iEschylus and Shakespeare, but surely dramatic poetry, as represented by these two, did not decline in the interval. The lyric poetry of Burns is not inferior to that of Anacreon, nor the great epic of Milton to that of Dante or that of Tasso, In all that goes to the making of the highest and the best poetry, the manhood of the race is, and must be, richer than its in- fancy. He would not be rash who should affirm that in sensibility to the charms of rural scenery and landscape beauty, as well as in the ethereal perception of the graces of character, our own Chaucer, — and we have ad* vanced in the five hundred years since his day — living in the autumn of the race, is superior to Homer living in its spring-time. It is certain that poetry is more needed now than ever before, and may we not rejoice in the belief that it is more widely read and better appre- ciated now than ever before ? If here, as elsewhere, the demand creates a supply, we need not be apprehensive of the future of poetry. It has this added felicity that, as knowledge accumulates, material for poetry accumu- lates. Every truth which brings any nourishment to the intellect has a poetic side to it, and can furnish the poet a suggestion which may be worked into the back- ground of his picture, or even stand in the foreground as the subject of it. But whatever may be the future of poetry, we may comfort ourselves with the thought that there is enough and more than enough for all our needs, though another line of poetry should never be written. From the be- ginning, poetry has attracted to itself the great writers of every age and tongue. The best thought of the world, alive and aglow with the best feelings that bubble up from the spring of the heart, has gone into it as its 258 Prodiictions — Poetry. warp and its woof. These rich coinages of the imagi- nation, instinct with passion, the great masters have in- carnated in language, felicitous and mellifluous, gemmed with imagery, musical with the melody of rhythm — fit body for the indwelling soul, — and on the pages of all our libraries hang these pictures which have the power to move denied to the paintings of Raphael or the statues of Phidias. And this inheritance of ours never wastes. Poetry, ministering to that part of us which never changes, does not grow old and unserviceable. What satisfies our aesthetic nature completely will continue to satisfy it — we can no more outgrow it than our lungs can out- grow air. Poetry is immortal. Its immortality it does not share with the bald facts and truths of science, this does not belong even to the thought which is the staple of poetry. The feeling, the sentiment, which floods the thought is what preserves it — this is the spices and the aloes that embalm it, the amber which envelops it, and keeps it forever from decay. Nay, poetry, which haunts the memory as prose never does, and, bidden or unbidden, is ever coming down out of it into conscious- ness, and singing itself on our tongues, is not only a " joy forever," but is forever becoming more and more a joy. For poems grow, grow richer and better by use; and this not by what they lose but by what they gain, for out of us there goes, at every reading of them, something which enters into them, and sweetens them as sunbeams sweeten grapes. Not only do their words grow into place and grow together, from frequent repetition of them, but, little by little, poems fill their pores and color through and through with the emotions which they awaken in us, and which pass out of us and enter into Remarks icpoii Poetry. 259 them until they become redolent, and exhale a fragrance which makes their very atmosphere aromatic. Let us change a single word of a stanza of Longfel- low's, and conclude these remarks by quoting " [Read] from the grand old masters, [Read] from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of time; Read from some humbler poet Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer Or tears from the eyelids start ; — And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away." / /J 26o Productions — Poetiy, A SCHEME FOR REVIEW. Poetry — Definition. Differs from nary Prose in three things : — ordi- I Mission J ^^^"^^^ Mission to the Feelings. Second- / ary to the Intellect and to the Will. II. Style. (!• H O PL| III. Form. Kinds of Poetry. Words. Arrangement. Imagery. Definition. A Foot. Two Dissyllabic Feet. Three Trisyllabic Feet. Mon- 1. Rhythm. \ osy liable Foot. A j Verse. A Stanza. A I Poem. The Caesura. I Elision. Scansion. i Definition. Metre in or- 2. Metre. -< dinary Poetry. Metre ( in Poetry set to Music. r Definition. Double and I Triple Rhyme. Line- 3. Rhyme. ^ Rhyme. Alliteration. I A Couplet. Blank- ly Verse. I. Didactic Poetry. II. Satirical Poetry. 1 III. Lyric poetry. IV. Pastoral Poetry. V. Epic Poetry. Sacred. Secular. VI. Dramatic Poetry. Concludmg Remarks upon Poetry. 1. Comedy. 2. Tragedy. Extracts for the Study of Poetry. 261 LESSON 83. EXTRACTS FOR THE STUDY OF POETRY. Direction. — Classify these extracts, scan them, give their metre, and note their beauty of thought, words, and imagery: — I. A brook came stealing fromi the ground ; You scarcely saw its silvery gleam Among the herbs that hung around The borders of that winding stream, — A pretty stream, a placid stream, A softly gliding, bashful stream. A breeze came wandering from the sky, | Light as the whispers of a dream ; He put the o'erhanging grasses by, And gayly stooped to kiss the stream, — The pretty stream, the flattered stream, The shy, yet unreluctant stream. The water, as the wind passed o'er. Shot upward many a glancing beam. Dimpled and quivered more and more. And tripped along a livelier stream, — The flattered stream, the simpering stream. The fond, delighted, silly stream. Away the airy wanderer flew To where the fields with blossoms teem. To sparkling springs and rivers blue, And left alone that little stream, — The flattered stream, the cheated stream, The sad, forsaken, lonely stream. 262 Productions — Poetry. That careless wind no more came back ; He wanders yet the fields, I deem ; But on its melancholy track Complaining went that little stream, — The cheated stream, the hopeless stream, The ever murmuring, moaning stream. Bryant. 2. Duke. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile. Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp } Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons' difference — as, the icy fang And churlish chiding of the Winter's wind — Which when it bites, and blows upon my body. Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say. This is no flattery — these are the counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity. Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; And this our life, exempt from public haunt. Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks. Sermons in stones, and good in everything : I would not change it. Amiens. Happy is your Grace, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style. Duke. Come, shall we go and kill us venison.^ And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools. Being native burghers of this desert city, Should, in their own confines, with forked heads Have their round haunches gored. I. Lord. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that ; And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp Than doth your brother that hath banished you. Extracts for the Study of Poetry. 263 To-day my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : To the which place, a poor sequestered stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt. Did come to languish ; and, indeed, my lord, The wretched animal heaved forth such groans That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Almost to bursting ; and the big, round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase ; and thus the hairy fool. Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook. Augmenting it with tears. Duke. But what said Jaques } Did he not moralize this spectacle } I. Lord. Oh yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping into th' needless stream ; Poor deer," quoth he, " thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much." Then, being alone, Left and abandoned of his velvet friends ; 'Tis right," quoth he ; "thus misery doth part The flux of company." Anon, a careless herd. Full of the pasture, jumps along by him. And never stays to greet him. " Ay," quoth Jaques, ' Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ; 'Tis just the fashion ; wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there.'*" Thus most invectively he pierceth through The body of the country, city, court. Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse. To fright the animals, and to kill them up In their assigned and native dwelling place. Duke. And did you leave him in this contemplation ? 264 Productions — Poetry 1. Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing deer. Shakespeare. 3. But Buddha softly said, " Let him not strike, great King I" and therewith loosed The victim's bonds, none staying him, so great His presence was. Then, craving leave, he spake Of life, which all can take but none can give. Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep. Wonderful, dear, and pleasant unto each, Even to the meanest ; yea, a boon to all Where pity is, for pity makes the world Soft to the weak and noble for the strong. LTnto the dumb lips of his flock he lent Sad, pleading words showing how man, who prays For mercy of the gods, is merciless. Being as god to those; albeit all life Is linked and kin, and what we slay have given Meek tribute of the milk and wool, and set Fast trust upon the hands which murder them. Also he spake of what the holy books Do surely teach, how that at death some sink To bird and beast, and these rise up to man In wanderings of the spark which grows purged flame. So were the sacrifice new sin, if so The fated passage of a soul be stayed. Nor, spake he, shall one wash his spirit clean By blood , nor gladden gods, being good, with blood ; Nor bribe them, being evil ; nay, nor lay L^pon the brow of innocent bound beasts One hair's weight of that answer all must give For all things done amiss or wrongfully, Alone, each for himself, reckoning with that The fixed arithmic of the universe, Which meteth good for good and ill for ill. Measure for measure, unto deeds, words, thoughts ; Watchful, aware, implacable, unmoved ; Making all futures fruits of all the pasts. Extracts for the Study of Poetry. 265 Thus spake he, breathing words so piteous With such high lordliness of ruth and right, The priests drew baciv their garments o'er the hands Crimsoned with slaughter, and the King came near. Standing with clasped palms reverencing Buddh ; While still our Lord went on, teaching how fair This earth were if all living things be linked In friendliness and common use of foods. Bloodless and pure ; the golden grain, bright fruits, Sweet herbs which grow for all, the waters wan, Sufficient drinks and meats. Which when these heard, The might of gentleness so conquered them The priests themselves scattered their altar-flames And flung away the steel of sacrifice. Edwin Arnold. 4. Jtesus, lover of my soul. Let me to thy bosom fly, While the billows near me roll. While the tempest still is high. Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide, Oh ! receive my soul at last. Other refuge have I none ; Hangs my helpless soul on thee ; Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring ; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing. Thou, O Christ, art all I want ; More than all in thee I find ; Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind. 266 Productions — Poetry. Just and holy is thy name ; I am all unrighteousness ; False, and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace. Plenteous grace with thee is found, Grace to cover all my sin ; Let the healing streams abound, Make and keep me pure within. Thou of life the fountain art. Freely let me take of thee ; Spring thou up within my heart, Rise to all eternity. Charles Wesley. 5. But most by numbers judge a poet's song, And smooth or rough, with them, is right or wrong. In the bright muse though thousand charms conspire, Her voice is all these tuneful fools admire ; Who haunt Parnassus but to please their ear. Not mend their minds ; as some to church repair. Not for the doctrine, but the music there. These equal syllables alone require. Though oft the ear the open vowels tire ; While expletives their feeble aid do join, And ten low words oft creep in one dull line : While they ring round the same unvaried chimes, With sure returns of still expected rhymes. Where'er you find " the cooling western breeze," In the next line it "whispers through the trees." If crystal streams "with pleasing murmurs creep," The reader's threatened (not in vain) with " sleep." Then at the last and only couplet fraught With some unmeaning thing they call a thought, A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along. Leave such to tune there own dull rhymes and know What's roundly smooth or languishingly slow. Extracts for the Study of Poetry, 267 And praise the easy vigor of a line Where Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness join. True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance. 'Tis not enough no harshness gives ofifence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows. And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore. The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw. The line too labors, and the words move slow. Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus' varied lays surprise, And bid alternate passions fall and rise ! While, at each change, the son of Libyan Jove Now burns with glory, and then melts with love. Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow. Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow ; Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found, And the world's victor stood subdued by sound. The power of music all our hearts allow, And what Timotheus was is Dryden now. Avoid extremes, and shun the fault of such Who still are pleased too little or too much. At every trifle scorn to take offence — That always shows great pride and little sense. Those heads, as stomachs, are not sure the best Which nauseate all, and nothing can digest. Yet let not each gay turn thy rapture move, For fools admire, but men of sense approve. As things seem large which we through mists descry, Dulness is ever apt to magnify. Pope. 268 Productions — Poetry, 6. Cyriack, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun or moon or star, throughout the year. Or man or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward. What supports me dost thou ask } The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied In Liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which all Europe rings from side to side. This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask Content, though blind, had I no better guide. Milton. - ' — 1 . « 7. And what is so rare as a day in June.^ Then, if ever, come perfect days ; -—a ^ %/ . Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, - -mj ■ And over it softly her warm ear lays. Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might. An instinct within it that reaches and towers. And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers. The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys ; The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice. And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace. The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt, like a blossom among the leav^es, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives ; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, Extracts for the Stitdy of Poetry, 269 And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings. He sings to the wide world and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best ? Nd^ is\ltfe high tidfe of th^y/ar, And whatever of life hath ebbed away ^ Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer. Into every bare inlet and creek and bay. Now the heart is so full that a drop over-fills it, We are happy now because God wills it ; No matter how barren the past may have been, 'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green ; We sit in the warm shade, and feel right well How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell ; We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing That skies are clear and grass is growing. The breeze comes whispering in our ear That dandelions are blossoming near, That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing. That the river is bluer than the sky, That the robin is plastering his house hard by ; And if the breeze kept the good news back, For other couriers we should not lack ; We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,— And hark ! how clear bold chanticleer. Warmed with the new wine of the year, Tells all in his lusty crowing ! Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how ; Everything is happy now. Everything is upward striving ; 'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true As for grass to be green or skies to be blue,— 'Tis the natural way of living. Who knows whither the clouds have fled ? In the unscarred heavens they leave no wake ; And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, The heart forgets its sorrow and ache ; 2 70 Prodtutions — Poetry. The soul partakes the season's youth, And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe Lie deep 'neath a silence, pure and smooth, Like burnt-out craters healed with snow. What wonder if Sir Launfal now Remembered the keeping of his vow? Lowell. 8. Time was, ere yet in these degenerate days Ignoble themes obtained mistaken praise. When sense and wit with poesy allied, No fabled graces, flourished side by side. From the same fount their inspiration drew, And, reared by taste, bloomed fairer as they grew. Then, in this happy isle, a Pope's pure strain Sought the rapt soul to charm, nor sought in vain : A polished nation's praise aspired to claim, And raised the people's, as the poet's fame. Like him great Dryden poured the tide of song In stream less smooth, indeed, yet doubly strong. Then Congreve's scenes could cheer, or Otway's melt ; For nature then an English audience felt. But why these names, or greater still, retrace, When all to feebler bards resign their place } Yet to such times our lingering looks are cast. When taste and reason with those times are past. Now look around, and turn each trifling page. Survey the precious works that please the age ; This truth, at least, let satire's self allow. No dearth of bards can be complained of now. The loaded press beneath her labor groans, And printers' devils shake their weary bones, While Southey's epics cram the creaking shelves. And Little's lyrics shine in hot-pressed twelves. Thus saith the preacher : " Nought beneath the sun Is new," yet still from change to change we run. Extracts for the Study of Poetry. 271 What varied wonders tempt us as they pass ! The cow-pox, tractors, galvanism, and gas In turns appear, to make the vulgar stare, Till the swoln bubble bursts, and all is air! Nor less new schools of Poetry arise. Where dull pretenders grapple for the prize. O'er taste awhile these pseudo-bards prevail, Each country book-club bows the knee to Baal, And, hurling lawful genius from the throne. Erects a shrine and idol of its own ; Some leaden calf — but whom it matters not. From roaring Southey down to grovelling Stott. As for the smaller fry, who swarm in shoals From silly Hafiz up to simple Bowles, Why should we call them from their dark abode In broad St. Giles's or in Tottenham-road } Or (since some men of fashion nobly dare To scrawl in verse) from Bond Street or the Square ? If things of to?i their harmless lays indite. Most wisely doomed to shun the public sight. What harm .'* In spite of every critic elf. Sir T. may read his stanzas to himself; Miles Andrews still his strength in couplets try, And live in prologues, though his dramas die. Lords too are bards, such things at times befall, And 'tis some praise in peers to write at all. Yet, did or taste or reason sway the times. Oh ! who would take their titles with their rhymes ? Roscommon I Sheffield ! with your spirits fled. No future laurels deck a noble head ; No muse will cheer with renovating smile The paralytic puling of Carlisle. The puny schoolboy and his early lay Men pardon, if his follies pass away; But who forgives the senior's ceaseless verse. Whose hairs grow hoary as his rhymes grow worse ? Byron, 272 Productions — Poetry. 9, There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream. The earth, and every common sight To me did seem Apparell'd in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore ; Turn whereso'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more. The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose ; The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare ; Waters on a starry night " Are beautiful and fair ; The sunshine is a glorious birth ; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song. And while the young lambs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief ; A timely utterance gave that thought relief. And I again am strong. The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep ; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong ; I hear the echoes through the mountains throng; The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay ; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May Doth every beast keep holiday ; — Thou child of joy. Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy. Extracts for the Study of Poetry. 273 Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal. The fulness of your bliss I feel — I feel it all. Oh, evil day ! if I were sullen While Earth herself is adorning, This sweet May-morning, And the children are culling On every side, In a thousand valleys, far and wide. Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm : I hear, I hear, with joy I hear ! — But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone. The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat. Whither is fled the visionary gleam ? Where is it now, the glory and the dream ? Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting And Cometh from afar. Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness. But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home. Heaven lies about us in our infancy ! Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy. But he beholds the light, and whence it flows. He sees it in his joy; The youth, who daily farther from the East Must travel, still is Nature's Priest, 2/4 Pi^odtictioiis — Poetry And by the vision splendid Is on his way attended. At length the man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day. Oh joy ! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive ! The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction ; not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest, — Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise. But for those obstinate questionings . Of sense and outward things ; Fallings' from us, vanishings. Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized. High instincts, before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised ; But for those first affections. Those shadowy recollections. Which, be they what they may. Are yet the fountain-light of all our day. Are yet a master-light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence : truths that wake To perish never ; Which neither listlessness nor mad endeavor Nor man nor boy Nor all that is at enmity with joy Can utterly abolish or destroy. Extracts for the Study of Poetry. 275 Hence in a season of calm weather. Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song, And let the young Lambs bound As to the tabor's sound. We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe, and ye that play. Ye that through your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May. What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower ! We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind — In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be ; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering ; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind. And, O ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forebode not any severing of our loves. Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks, which down their channels fret. Even more than when I tripped lightly as they ; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet. 2 76 Productions — Poetry. The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober coloring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears. To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. Wordsworth. To the Teacher. — Ask your pupils to read this matchless poem again and again. Read it for them and with them, till they catch something of its "deep and strong undercurrent of thought," and of its majestic movement. Hudson says, "One may converse with it every day for a lifetime, without exhausting its significance." THE END. RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT TO"^ 202 Main Library LOAN PERIOD 1 HOME USE 2 3 4 5 6 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS t-year lo^ns rr-ay be f0Ghary.5d Dy bringing the bOOKa to the Cticutdtion DesK Renewals and rscharges rrvay V:? made 4 6ayfi prior to due n^tp. 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