LIBRARY OF THE University of California. OIFT OF ^nSLt;^^<9~AA^. 0:H,5jOJ^ 1 Class ;J -, . -i^_ o^ y / ^ Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2007 witii funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation littp://www.arcliive.org/details/englisliforsecondOOwebsricli ENGLISH FOE SECONDAKY SCHOOLS BY W. F. WEBSTER Principal of East High School, Minneapolis, Minn, ■ - » > > ' j> j' BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY COPYRIGHT, I912, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Acknowledgment is hereby made to the authorized publishers, or the rightful owners or agents of the copyright, for permission to use quotations from books by the following authors, as specified : Ralph H. Barbour, The Half Back. D. Appleton and Company. — Phillips Brooks, Letters of Travel. E. P. Button and Company. — Charles Edward Cheney, The Second Norman Conquest of England. — Richard Harding Davis, Van Bibber and Others. Copyright, 1892, by Harper and Brothers. — Arthur Conan Doyle, Round the Red Lamp. D. Appleton and Company. — Arthur Conan Doyle, Sir Nigel. Doubleday, Page and Company. — G. K. Gilbert and A. P. Brigham, An Introduction to Physical Geography. D. Appleton and Company. — Thomas Hardy, Wessex Tales. Harper and Brothers. — Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Things Worth While. B. W- Heubsch. — Elbert Hubbard, Little Journeys to the Homes of Emi- nent Painters. G. P Putnam's Soijis of ?Iew York and London. — David Starr Jordan and Vernon S. Kellogg, Animal Life. D. Apple- ton and Compan,\: — '- A; G. NevcoiDer, English Literature. Scott, Foresmanand Company. — E. L. Richards, Popular Science Monthly, 1894. — Henry van Dyke, Harvard Baccalaureate Sermon on Salt. — Caleb T. Winchester, The New Essay. The Macmillan Company. (Sbe S^iterj^ibe ^xt00 CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUISETTS U . S . A PREFACE In presenting English for Secondary Schools, it will serve a purpose to state the principles that have guided in the making of the book. It is some years since the study of rhetoric gave way to the more practical study of composition, in which the mass of rules concern- ing diction have been superseded by a few princi- ples designed simply to secure clearness of expression. Furthermore, it is now evident that no mere statement of these principles, however complete and accurate it may be, is as illuminating to the young learner as a clear exposition of how successful writers have done their work. Few teachers would now have the hardihood to separate the study of composition from the study of literature; and all teachers know that the best in- structors in English composition are those writers who have served their apprenticeship and have been accepted in the world of literature as masters of their craft. A wise instructor, then, will arrange the course in read- ing so that it will serve two great ends : first and prima- rily , to introduce youth to the best that has been said and thought by the English-speaking people; and second, to place before his classes examples of literary skill which shall be at once models after which to fashion their own work, and an inspiration to ambitious effort. Yet, as no one ever attained skill in any art by a study of principles or of models, for every hour given to study there must be many hours devoted to practice. Exer- cises, then, are an important part of any book on com- position. And exercises should not be general, simply to illustrate a principle; for all teachers have learned that to arouse mental activity, generalities will not suffice. 235350 iv PREFACE There must be a definite, concrete problem, upon which the student is to focus his energy and ingenuity. Among these concrete problems, none are so sure to call forth eager activity of mind as those which have an immediate and local interest. So that, while the exercises given here are good as models and suggestions, those most cer- tain to bring out expression that glows with feeling are the ones that every instructor finds ready to hand in the life of the community where he labors. It is not neces- sary, either, that every exercise be performed; for exam- ple, many pupils will not need all the exercises in the first chapter. It is unwise to compel worthless drudgery for the sake of uniformity. The four forms of discourse — narration, description, exposition, and argumentation — are taken up in the order named, while a chapter on Letter- Writing finds a large place in the book. But preceding all, because of fundamental importance, is a chapter on Sentences. It is often the case that pupils reach the secondary schools with apparently very little knowledge of a sentence; yet little advance can be made in composition until the primary facts about sentence-formation are known. Bound up with this subject is that of punctuation, for a sentence is not complete until its words are correctly grouped by the marks of punctuation. Correct sentences, correctly punctuated, should be the first object of the instructor in composition; nor will the time ever come in preparatory-school teaching when no attention need be paid to this fundamental work with the sentence. In writing this book, I have received great help from the teachers in this city, and especially from teachers in East High School. Their suggestions have laid upon me a debt of gratitude which I am glad to acknowledge. W. F. Webster, CONTENTS CHAPTER I. — THE SENTENCE . 1-55 Sentences and Not Sentences 4 Unity of Sentences 8 Rules for Avoiding Grammatical Errors ... 11 Agreement 11 Cases of Pronouns 16 Verb Forms 17 Adjectives and Adverbs 26 Prepositions 28 Conjunctions 30 Punctuation 33 Final Marks 34 The Comma . 34 Other Uses of the Comma 40 The Semicolon 43 The Colon 47 Quotation Marks 48 The Dash 50 Capital Letters 51 CHAPTER II. — FORMS OF DISCOURSE . . . .55-105 Narration 62 Order of Events 64 Plot 66 Principles of Structure 68 The Main Incident 75 What Shall Go into a Story 81 vi CONTENTS Who Shall Tell the Story 84 In What Order Shall the Story Be Told .... 87 Movement in a Story 95 Some Suggestions 98 CHAPTER III.— FORMS OF DISCOURSE (Continued) 105-162 Description 105 Enumerative and Suggestive Description .... 108 Selection of Material 115 Arrangement of Material 125 > Paragraphs in Description 142 Figures of Speech 151 Words in Description 155 CHAPTER IV. — LETTER-WRITING 162-202 Parts of a Letter 162 Business Letters 167 Letters of Application 170 Letters of Recommendation 174 Letters of Introduction 176 Letters Ordering Goods 179 Letters of Complaint 181 Letters Requesting Payment 183 Letters of Friendship 187 Society Notes 193 Folding a Letter 198 The Superscription 199 CHAPTER v. — FORMS OF DISCOURSE (Continued) 202-271 Exposition 202 Methods of Explanation 204 Subject, Theme, and Title 217 Selection of Material 222 • Arrangement of Material 227 CONTENTS vii Mass 237 • Coherence 248 CHAPTER VI.— FORMS OF DISCOURSE (Continued) 271-309 Argumentation 271 The Proposition 275 The Brief 278 I. The Introduction 279 n. The Brief Proper ... 289 m. The Conclusion 299 The Presentation 301 Principles of Structure 303 CHAPTER VII. — FIGURES OF SPEECH . . . 309-319 CHAPTER VIII. — VERSE FORMS 320-336 APPENDIX 337-339 The Form of a Composition 337 Marks fob the Correction of Compositions . . 338 SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS ON SELECTED CLASSICS 34(>t346 INDEX ENGLISH FOR SECONDARY SCHOOLS CHAPTER I THE SENTENCE The word " composition " is derived from two Latin words, cum and ponere, meaning " to place together." A painter composes when he carefully selects and ar- ranges his objects, so that they make an effective pic- tm-e. A lamp, a well-worn book, and a pair of heavy- bowed spectacles make a suggestive picture; and one can almost see the white-haired grandmother reading the sacred book. A musician composes when he unites certain harmonious sounds. A boy in a school debat- ing club puts certain reasons together, and so composes his argument. Any one composes when he arranges his thoughts according to some definite scheme, that they may produce a distinct impression. And when thoughts so arranged are expressed by means of the English lan- guage, the result is an English composition. English composition^ then, is the art of communicating thoughts and feelings by means of the English language. Now, there are certain rules which every user of lan- guage should follow. Just as the artist has to avoid certain combinations of colors because they offend the eye, and the musician must avoid some combinations of sounds because they offend the ear, so any person, using language to communicate his ideas, must obey the rules of lan- guage if he wishes to please people by what he says. He ^A, ^ ' / i ;.■ c .; ' '. ' : i .'TUE> . SENTENCE must spell correctly, and he must use correctly the marks of punctuation. A man who eats with a knife may suc- ceed in getting his food to his mouth; yet certain rules exclude such a person from polite society. So, in com- position, it is entirely possible for a person to be under- stood though he say " I done it," write " alright " in- stead of all right, and never use a semicolon. Still, such a person could hardly be called cultured; nor, more important still, is the way open to him for high posi- tions in business. To express one's thoughts unmis- takably and effectively, and in a way that is pleasing, requires absolute obedience to the common rules of good composition. These rules are, for the most part, those already learned in the study of grammar. The principal ones will be repeated here; and no composition containing a single violation of a rule of grammar should be considered acceptable as a school exercise. Subject and predicate. A sentence has been defined as a group of words expressing a complete thought. The expression of a complete thought requires two things: the name of the thing about which something is asserted, called the subject; and the word or words that assert something about the subject, called the predicate. The sentences below illustrate the kinds of predicate most used. They are: — 1. A verb alone. The bird sings. 2. A verb with its object. David loved Absalom. 3. A copulative verb with an attribute complement. Cherries are ripe. The crops appear good. SUBJECT AND PREDICATE S 4. A passive verb with an attribute complement. Washington was called Father of his Country. 5. A verb with an object and an objective comple- ment. Out-of-door life is making the world strong. • 6. A passive verb with a retained object. Paupers are denied admission. EXERCISE 1. Separate each of the following sentences into sub- ject and predicate; then tell of what the predicate is composed : — 1. True practice is a struggle to realize an ideal. 2. He lends out money gratis. 3. The grass with dew is sprinkled bright. 4. For us all some sweet hope lies deeply buried from human eyes. 5. German children are taught reverence for authority. 6. A white wall is the paper of a fool. 7. Men must work, and women must weep. 8. Languidly the autumn wind stirs the forest leaves. 9. I will feed fat the ancient grudge. * 10. Tennyson was chosen poet laureate of England. 11. Conscience does make cowards of us all. 12. In France the crown-prince was called the Dauphin. 13. Every warbler has his tune by heart. 14. The Lord my pasture shall prepare. 15. All nature seemed asleep. 16. Advice was given him in plenty. 17. Still the wonder grew. 18. You should be taught your duty. 19. A gentle rain refreshed the thirsty flowers. 20. A sharp tongue is an edged tool. 21. To be busy is to be happy. 22. Every one considers her beautiful. 23. Studious boys make intelligent men. ' 4 THE SENTENCE 24. Yonder gleam the camp-fires. 25. The child finally reached home exhausted. 26. The violinist played me a waltz. 27. The messenger came running. 28. Old wood makes the best fire. 29. The lightning struck him dead. 30. By working faithfully we accomplish our ends. 31. One is never too old to learn. 2. Bring to class two sentences illustrating each type of predicate given in the list above. There will be twelve sentences in all. SENTENCES AND NOT SENTENCES The verb. In each of the sentences in the exercise above there is a verb; and there can be no sentence without a predicate containing a verb. The first rule to be practiced is this : — I. Every sentence must have a verb in the predicate. Simple as this rule seems, there are many persons, not always children either, who make the mistake of using other parts of speech for a verb. Here is a copy of a postal card sent out by a great mercantile house: — Dear Sir: I will be pleased to receive one copy of your new booklet, "To Happiness by Trolley," ^s mentioned in your recent letter. Same to be forwarded postage paid and without cost or any obligation to me whatsoever. Sign here Of course you have noticed that "will " is used for shall; but the carelessness of the writer is most evident in the last group of words. It has no verb, only an infinitive. It is not a sentence and should not be substituted for one. Neither phrases nor subordinate clauses should be substituted for sentences. SENTENCES AND NOT SENTENCES EXERCISE In this exercise there are some sentences and some groups of words not sentences. Separate the true sen- tences into subject and predicate, telling what elements make the predicate. Do not give the modifiers. In the groups of words that are not sentences, first tell what has been used as a substitute for a sentence, and then complete each group as you think it might read. 1. A soft answer turneth away wrath. 2. Gibraltar rock stands firm. 3. The child being honest and giving up the money. 4. The tent-poles being set and the camp-fires burning brightly. 5. Cromwell was styled the Protector of The Common- wealth. 6. And many other interesting things, which almost every- one likes to read about. 7. Shook his very frame for ire. 8. The temptation having proved irresistible. 9. A man's manners often influence his fortune. 10. Five years to be imprisoned at hard labor for the one bad act of his life. 11. Faithful are the wounds of a friend. 12. Having fought bravely for their country, with him lay dead on the battle-field. 13. Charles I was made prisoner by the Roundheads. 14. With its wide shore-line fringed with trees. 15. The child was asked its name. 16. Because the exciting pictures in the comic section of the newspaper teach a child to deceive his parents. 17. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. 18. My books feel heavier than usual to-day. 19. Which was by far the simplest way out of the difficulty. 20. Flowers wither at the north-wind's breath. 21. When one is swimming, every muscle having to do its duty. 22. The shower has left the violet-bank so fresh. 6 THE SENTENCE Beginning and end. Two other rules that you have learned in grammar are : — 2. Every sentence must begin with a capital letter. 3. Every sentence must be completed by a period, a question mark, or an exclamation mark. Yet errors such as the following are too frequent in school compositions and letters to friends: "One morning, when I went to call him, I found feathers at the entrance of his hole he could n't deny it he was a thief, his fox nature had come out under severe tempta- tion and he died an unnatural death." So these additions must be made to the list of substi- tutes for written sentences: — Groups of words begun with a small letter. Groups of words ended with no punctuation, or ended with a comma or a semicolon. A sentence, then, is the complete expression of a thought by means of words. If a group of words is in- complete, being only (1) a subordinate clause; (2) a noun modified by a participle; (3) an infinitive or gerun- dial phrase; (4) a predicate with no subject; (5) a group of words not beginning with a capital letter, or (6) a group of words not completed by a mark of final punc- tuation, it is not a sentence. EXERCISE 1. The capital letters and periods have been omitted from the following paragraph. The other marks of punctuation are correct. Insert capitals and periods to make complete sentences : — "look out for a fake kick," muttered story, as joel fell back the opposing line was quickly formed, and the signal was given the rush line heaved, joel sprang into the air, settling SENTENCES AND NOT SENTENCES 7 with a crash against the shoulders of chesney and murdoek, who went forward, carrying the defense before them but the ball was passed, and even as the yates line broke the thud of leather against leather was heard joel scrambled to his feet, as- sisted by chesney, and streaked up the field the ball was over- head, describing a high, short arch blair was awaiting it, and kingdon was behind and to the right of him down it came, out shot blair's hands, and catching it like a base ball he was off at a jump, kingdon beside him joel swung about, gave a shoulder to an oncoming blue-clad rusher, ran slowly until the two backs were hard behind him, and then dashed on Ralph H. Barbour 2. The following exercise may be prepared out of school. If the teacher thinks best, it may be divided into two assignments. MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY I. My early childhood. a. My name, age, and birthplace. b. Some facts about my father. c. Some facts about my mother. n. My school life. a. My first day at school. 1. My feeling about starting to school. 2. My recollection of the teacher; the school-room; the other children; the games. b. The teacher from whom I learned most. Some of the things about her that I remember best — her appear- ance, her way of saying and doing things. [Two para- graphs might begin as follows: (1) "I can see her now," etc. (2) " I remember one lesson I learned, which was not in any book. It was one day when, etc." Go on and tell it fully enough so that a reader will get the whole story.] c. Where I was prepared for high school. in. My favorite author. [Here give the names of the books you have read in the last year. Which books pleased you most.^ Why?] IV. The character I admire most. [Why I would choose to be like this person if I could.] 8 THE SENTENCE V. My most agreeable occupation. VI. The games I like to play, and why I like them. VII. My great desire. [There are many things a boy or a girl might wish to have or to become. Don't be afraid to tell just what you desire; and perhaps you will like to add why you desire this thing above all others.] UNITY OF SENTENCES We have seen that sentences may be defective be- cause they are not the full expression of one complete thought. But in actual composition many sentences are defective because they include more than one complete thought. A little child, breathless with excitement, tells her mother, *' We heard the fire-engines coming down the street, and we left our game of hide-and-seek, and Jennie was standing, and Joe ran so fast that he fell over, and we found that the fire was in Murphy's store, and we can't buy candy there any more." The slender thread that binds such a jumble of unrelated incidents into one sentence is a string of " ands." Older persons seldom write as poorly as this; yet every one must watch or he will find himself trying to crowd two or three unrelated thoughts into one sentence. Such a sentence as the following is not uncommon: " Of all the boys that were schoolmates then, there are only you and I; and you were a good swimmer." The one complete thought was expressed in the first part of the sentence; the last part is entirely unrelated and should not be included. A sen- tence is the complete expression of one thought, not more ; and a sentence that is the expression of just one thought has one-nessy or Unity, as it is called in composition. A compound sentence has been defined as a sentence that contains two or more independent clauses ^ or pro- positions. This does not mean that a compound sentence UNITY OF SENTENCES 9 contains two independent thoughts. Independent thoughts must be expressed by independent sentences. Yet often there are two propositions of equal importance that really belong together, because together they ex- press one thought; as, — The night is calm and cloudless. And still as still can be. And the stars come forth to listen To the music of the sea. The two propositions together make one complete and beautiful picture. Again, the proverb tells us that — The wicked flee when no man pursue th; but the righteous are bold as a lion. Here, by means of a contrast, we have a powerful state- ment of the courage of a righteous man. So, too, we meet compound sentences in which a choice is offered; as, — Give me liberty, or give me death. These three sentences illustrate the commonest rela- tions between the clauses of a compound sentence. They are the relation expressed (1) by the conjunction and; (2) by the conjunction but; and (3) by the con- junction or, or nor. In these three cases both clauses aid in the expression of the complete thought, and so com- pose one sentence. A compound sentence in which both clauses combine to make the thought clear has Unity. Test all independent clauses of a compotmd sentence so that you may be sure not to have two separate sentences joined to- gether in one sentence. Give each sentence Unity by excluding all clauses not directly upon the topic. The Unity of a sentence may be destroyed in other ways than by the addition of unrelated independent N 10 THE SENTENCE clauses. Notice this sentence: " James bought Tenny- son's Poems with the first money that he earned away from home in a country store which had everything for sale from violins to needles, many of which had lain so long in the dirty show-case that they had become rusty and unfit for use." In this sentence the writer has been led astray by relative clauses, and has brought in ideas that have nothing to do with the main thought. Unity has been destroyed by a careless use of straggling sub- ordinate clauses. In forming a complex sentence, keep close watch of all de- pendent clauses. Be sure that they do not lead you away from the main topic of the sentence. EXERCISE 1. The following sentences are simple, complex, or compound. A few are correct; but the most of them have at least one clause that destroys their Unity. Search out the offending clauses, and tell why they should be omitted. 1. Cowards die many times before their deaths. 2. The fur which warms a monarch warmed a bear, which is a very dangerous animal for one, alone and unarmed, to meet in a forest. 3. Pay not heed to flatterers and never put off until to- morrow what you can do to-day, even if it means eating the new-baked pie. 4. Good temper and bad temper are symptoms of good and bad moral health; but to be well is better than to be sick. 5. Grandfather, who fought in the Revolutionary War and was used to Indians, would tell us bedtime stories as we sat around the blazing hickory fire which crackled and sputtered and made a fine light, although some think pine knots give a better light when you have no candle. 6. Some historians admit that Milton was a great poet; they , deny that he was a great man. AVOIDING GRAMMATICAL ERRORS 11 7. Goldsmith said of Johnson that he had nothing of the ' bear but his skin. 8. Time will dull the sharpest sword, and those made at Damascus were at one time considered the best steel. 9. The moon shines bright, for Christmas is the glad season of the year. 10. Ruth had gone to Philadelphia to visit her aunt who gave her a curly-haired wax doll which was larger than any the other little girl had who lived in the same street where the stones were made of granite that had been brought from the quarries in New Hampshire. 11. Manners are the happy ways of doing things, and we should always be happy. 12. It costs little to be polite, and how much good we could all do in the world if we would only try. 2. All have entered the high school with some pur- pose. You have selected a course of study that will take you toward the goal of your ambition. Write a composi- tion setting forth three reasons why you have chosen the course of study you are pursuing. Your composition will have four paragraphs: the first telling your aim in life; the three following showing how the work you will do in school will help you to reach the end you seek. Give your best reason last. Watch very closely, and guard against writing straggling clauses. Do not try to write long sentences or long paragraphs. RULES FOR AVOIDING GRAMMATICAL ERRORS AGREEMENT The most common grammatical errors are called solecisms, the use of constructions not English; and bar- barisms, the use of words not English. " He has came," " those kind of birds are beautiful ** are disgraceful solecisms; and " haint," " enthuse," " suspicion" (verb 12 THE SENTENCE for suspect) are words that put the stamp of ignorance upon the person who uses them. The solecisms heard most often are those which arise from a lack of agreement among the different parts of a sentence. The first rule of sentence-formation is this : — 1. A verb must agree with its subject in person and number. Yet this desirable agreement of verb and subject is often broken by carelessness or ignorance. When a boy says, " John, as well as the other boys, were fooled by that trick," he has lost sight of the real subject, " John," and made the verb agree with the idea of a number of boys. It is easy to be led astray by a prepo- sitional phrase denoting a number of objects; as, *'The box of apples were poor." Correct: John, as well as the other boys, teas fooled by that trick. The box of apples vxis poor. 2. Whenever there is a phrase or a clause modifying the sub- ject, and introduced by with, as well as, or in addition to, look past these words to the real subject, and make the verb agree with it. Collective nouns often lead into difficulties. A collect- ive noun should be followed by a singular verb when- ever the idea expressed by it is the idea of a single group of objects; as, — In Germany an army of a million stands ready for action in twenty-four hours. If, however, the principal idea is that of a number of individuals composing a group, the verb should be plural ; as, — AVOIDING GRAMMATICAL ERRORS 13 A vast multitude were wandering aimlessly through Hamp- stead Heath. A sentence like the following is very bad: "School is out, and a crowd of children is going to their home." Here the thought is of a number of individuals compos- ing a group; and the verb should be in the plural; so should the noun " home." Correct: A crowd of children are going to their home*. 3. If the principal idea expressed by a collective noun is that of a single group of individuals, the verb should be in the singular. If the principal idea expressed by a collective noun is a number of individuals, the verb should be plural. Another error in agreement is often found when the noun sort or kind is used as a subject; as, " These sort of dogs are very useful." Two errors ^cur in this sen- tence: the verb is plural, and the adjective modifying the word " sort " is plural. These mistakes have been made because the idea of plural number is introduced by the phrase "of dogs." "These sort" and "these kind," with their attendant errors, are disgraceful sole- cisms. Correct: This kind of bird is beautiful. That kind of dog is useful. That sort of man is the salvation of a nation. 4. Sort and kind are singular nouns, and must always be fol- lowed by singular verbs. Connected with this mistake in the verb is another often heard in the phrase modifying the words sort or hind. The modifying phrase often contains an indef- inite article, a or an. This is wrong; for the word follow- ing the article is, in the sense intended, a class name, not the name of an individual thing. 14 THE SENTENCE Incorrect: This kind of a book suits me. Correct: This kind of book suits me. Closely allied with this error is one of the following type: '* Each of the men sing well." Few would write, " Each sing well "; but when a phrase denoting plural number modifies the pronoun eachy it is easy to make this mistake. Like each are the words, everyy eiiher, neither ^ every one^ any one. Correct: Any one loves his dog. Every one of the miners was suffocated. Neither of the mountains is high. 5. The verb must be singular when one of the following words is its subject: each, either, neither, every one, one, any, any one. 6. The verb must be singular when its compound subject is composed of singular nouns connected by or or nor. Incorrect: A collie or a Boston terrier are the best dogs. ^ Correct: A collie or a Boston terrier is the best dog. Errors in the verb are frequent when the subject of the verb is a pronoun. This is because relative, or con- junctive, pronouns have the same form in both singular and plural numbers; so that it is impossible to tell from the form of the pronoun what number it is. The clauses, "which make a big load," and "which makes a big load " are equally correct; but this sentence is wrong: " The teamster rolled on twenty barrels of salt, which makes a big load." The antecedent of " which" is not the singular noun, "salt," but the plural noun, " bar- rels." The safe way is to look further than the subject pronoun, back to its antecedent, and to make the verb agree with the antecedent in number. 7. When the subject of a verb is a relative pronoun, the verb should agree with the antecedent in number. AVOIDING GRAMMATICAL ERRORS 15 EXERCISE 1 Correct the following sentences, giving the reason for each change you make. Always give rules exactly as they are written. 1. The wood of the doors were mahogany. 2. The public is invited to visit the art gallery. 3. These sort of apples come from Michigan. 4. Every person, whether young or old, have their faults. 5. The mother-cat, together with her kittens, lap milk from the saucer. 6. We was all over to Jane's house last night. 7. Plain Tales from the Hills were written by Kipling. 8. More than one person has said the lesson don't begin there. 9. Those skates are different from these kind. 10. The Christmas box came when you was at school. 11. January, as well as December, are cold months. 12. Under the table is his hat and his books, and he don't know where they are. 13. Nine tenths of all our blessings are health. 14. Neither of the girls were late. 15. It don't matter much if a person refuses to tell their age. 16. I don't know what kind of a man he is. 17. Two hours was soon spent watching the game. 18. There's no two ways about it; he don't study enough. 19. Neither of us were going to the^ matinee. 20. Quickness, as well as neatness, are needed in book-keeping. 21. Any one who will write their name on these lists are en- titled to a badge. 22. Thirty dollars were given the man for my pony. 23. I don't like those kind of people who are always discon- tented. 24. Neither algebra or Latin are my favorite studies. 25. "He ain't going," said he. "You see if he don't," said I. 26. If eaeh of our lessons are carefully prepared they soon will not seem diflBcult. 27. Every child should keep their desk neat and clean. * Exercises containing errors to be corrected may be used or omitted, as the instructor thinks wise. 16 THE SENTENCE 28. In front of the inn was a wide spreading elm-tree and a sign-post. 29. Every one of the children were told to go home and wash their face and hands. 30. The gypsy said that if any one would tell the date of their birth she would tell their fortune. 31. What kind of a hat are you going to buy? CASES OF PRONOUNS The English language is but slightly inflected; yet there are changes enough in the forms of words to be the cause of a number of common errors in sentences. Scarcely any pupil that reaches the high school makes a mistake in the plural of nouns. A few foreign words, such as cherubim, phenomena, data, etc., may give trouble; possibly also a few words ending in o, /, or y. But, in general, the plural forms of nouns are used cor- rectly. So, too, is the possessive case of nouns. The pupil knows when to use an apostrophe and 5, and when to use the apostrophe alone. How^ever, when he uses the cases of pronouns, he drops into the current language of the street, and talks like a barbarian. Without shame, he announces, ** Him and me built the air-ship "; "That surely was him"; "He invited you and I"; "The choice is between you and I "; " He is taller than me." Usually he knows better than to use any of these in- correct constructions. He can correct sentences con- taining such vulgarisms, and can give the reasons for the changes; he knows the following rules: — 1. The subject of a sentence is in the nominative case, and must be the nominative form of the pronoun. Correct: He and I built the air-ship. 2. The attribute complement of a verb is in the nominative case, and should be the nominative form of the pronoun. Correct: That surely was he. VERB FORMS 17 3. The object of a verb or a preposition is in the objective case, and should be the objective form of the pronoun. Correct: He invited you and me. The choice lies between you and him. 4. No apostrophe should be used in the possessive form of a per- sonal or a relative pronoun. Correct: The book is hers. The story of its destruction is well known. "Her's" "it's," their's," and "who's" are quite as incorrect as "hi's." They all are wrong. Though the student knows these rules, too often he uses the language of the illiterate. There is but one way to overcome these bad habits. The correct form must be said over and over until incorrect forms are offensive. EXERCISE^ Repeat the following until you say them naturally, without thinking about them : — It is 7. It is n't /. He is larger than I. It is he. It is n't he. He is taller than she. It is she. It is n't she. She is taller than they. It is we. It is n't we. He is stronger than we. It is they. It is n't they. I am larger than he. Between you and me. He called you and me. Between him and her. He called him and her. Between them and ua. He called them, and us. VERB FORMS The verb is the most inflected part of speech; yet, outside the violations of agreement already given, mis- 1 To the instructor: — If there are in the community other ungrammati- cal Idioms that the children are using, extend this list to include them. These sentences should be repeated daily until the errors they are intended to correct are never heard. 18 THE SENTENCE takes in the forms of the verb are comparatively few. The principal mistakes are: — The substitution of " ain't " for am not or are not, and " don't " for does not; Mistakes in the use of zoill and shall; Mistakes in the use of the tenses and modes of verbs; The interchange of the past indicative form for the per- fect participle form. Cultured persons never use the word " ain't "; the dictionary says that it is used by illiterate people. Don't is a contraction of do not; and it is correct to use it, except in the third person, singular number. The proper form for the third person, singular, is does n't. Both these words, " ain't " and " don't," show the ef- fect of laziness upon a language. It is easier to use one form for all places than to think which form should be used in a particular place. The incorrect use of shall and will is due not to lazi- ness so much as to ignorance. The principal rules that guide in the use of these words are given below: — 1. In declarative sentences, shall is used to denote future time when the subject is in the first person. Correct: I shall go. We shaU not go. 2. Shall may be used to express compulsion, when the subject is in the second or the third person. Correct: You shall do it. They shall do it. 3. In declarative sentences, will is used to express future • time when the subject is in the second or the third per- son. Correct: She wW go. They vriU sing. VERB FORMS 19' 4. WUl is used to express (i) determination, or (2) promise, when the subject is in the first person. Correct: I vdll do it, in spite of opposing conditions. Yes, indeed, we will, 5. Will is sometimes used in giving a courteous command. Correct: You mil be at the office at nine o'clock. 6. In asking a question, the same verb, shall or willt must be used that is expected in the answer to the question. Correct: Will you be there? I mil. (Promise.) (S/ia// you be there? I shall. (Simple future event.) 7. Should and would generally follow the rules already given for the use of shall and will. But a. Should is sometimes used to denote duty. Correct : I should make this gift. b. Would is sometimes used to denote (i) desire or intention; and (2) a customary action. Correct: He would help (meaning, He wishes to help). She would hurry through her work (meaning. She was accustomed to hurry through her work). EXERCISE Fill the blanks with the proper words, shall or will, should or would. Give the reason for your choice in each case. Sometimes either word will be correct. In such a case tell the difference in the meaning arising from the use of the different words. 1. I (shall, will) not be afraid. 2. I (shall, will) refuse to admit him after such discourtesy. 3. They (shall, will) go at the appointed time. 4. Chicago's motto is I (shall, will). 6. (Shall, Will) I go if it rains? 20 THE SENTENCE 6. (Shall, Will) you be in time? Answer: I (shall, will). 7. (Shall, Will) you be on time to take the train? Answer: I (shall, will). 8. Norah, you (shall, will) lock the kitchen window every night. 9. I (should, would) be more careful with my books. 10. Rover (should, would) carry the package home. 11. The men (should, would) sit smoking and drawing out long stories about the war. 12. Kate said, "I (shall, will) be pleased to accept your in- vitation." 13. The bird (should, would) chirp until it was fed. 14. Florence (shall, will) go to College next year. 15. To-morrow the public (shall, will) know who is elected. 16. Joseph (should, would) attend to business better if he cares to succeed. 17. Grandmother (should, would) look over her spectacles and smile at us. 18. (Shall, Will) you take tea with us? Answer: I (shall, will). 19. The horses (shall, will) not go out again in the storm. 20. (Should, Would) you care to visit Paris each year? Answer: I (should, would). 21. I (shall, will) perish in this snow, and nobody (shall, will) help me. 22. What (shall, will) it profit a man to gain the whole world? 23. The leader said, "You (shall, will) see that everything is made ready for our coming." 24. (I shall, will) do or die. 25. (Shall, Will) you spend the winter in Florida? 26. (Should, Would) he go without asking his mother? 27. This rock (shall, will) fly from its firm base as soon as I. 28. David, in his grief, (should, would) have died for Absalom. 29. The poor children of the city (should, would) be looked after. 30. We (shall, will) know each other there. 31. General Grant said, "I (shall, will) fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." 32. If I (would, should) go, I (would, should) have to take the child with me. 33. How (would, should) you do it ? I value your advice and (shall, will) follow it. VERB FORMS 21 8. May and might should be used to denote pennission or possibility; can and could should be used to denote power or ability. Correct: She may read. I told him he mig'^^ go. (Permission.) It may rain. You might fall. (Possibility.) He can play a violin. You could do it easily, if you would. (Ability.) 9. Never use an auxiUary verb before the verb ought. " Had ought " is a common error. While no one says " have ought " or " will have ought," " had ought " is all too common. Yet there is no more reason for one than for the other. Ought to walk and ought to have walked are examples of the only forms there are of this verb. Here attention can best be called to Another expres- sion that often oflfends good taste. " Should of come " and " had 'f gone " are frequently heard, though seldom seen written. In both, the word "of," or the abbreviated " 'f," is used for the auxiliary verb have. While we may have the form should have gone, we can never have " had have gone " or " had of gone." 10. Never make 0/ part of a verb phrase. No more discouraging sound ever reaches a teacher's ear than " I done it," *' I could have went." Although " He drunk the water," and " The problem was proven " may be quite as bad, they do not seem so offensive. Below are given the three principal tenses of fifty common verbs, in the third person singular: — PRESENT TENSE PAST TENSE PAST PERFECT TENSE awakes awoke has awaked bears bore has borne beats beat has beaten begins began has begun 22 THE SENTENCE PRESENT TENSE PAST TENSE PAST PERFECT TENSE bids bade has bidden blows blew has blown breaks broke has broken bursts burst has burst catches caught has caught chooses chose has chosen climbs climbed has climbed comes came has come deals dealt has dealt dives dived has dived does did has done draws drew has drawn drinks drank has drunk drives drove has driven drowns drowned has drowned eats ate has eaten falls fell has fallen flies flew has flown freezes froze has frozen gets got has got gives gave has given goes went has gone grows grew has grown hangs (to kill) hanged has hanged hangs hung has hung heats heated has heated hurts hurt has hurt knows knew has known lays laid has laid lies lay has lain ought ought ■• raises raised has raised rides rode has ridden rings rang has rung rises rose has risen runs ran has run sees saw has seen sings sang has sung sinks sank has sunk sets set has set VERB FORMS PRESENT TENSE sits steals PAST TENSE PAST PERFECT Tl sat has sat stole has stolen swims swam has swum swings takes teaches wakes swung took taught woke — waked has swung has taken has taught has waked wrings writes wrung wrote EXERCISE has wrung has written S3 1. If you have need of it, repeat the preceding list of correct forms until the incorrect forms sound wrong to you. If you have other incorrect forms in your speech, overcome them in the same way. It is only by constant repetition of the correct forms that you can be rid of these common errors in speech. 2. Explain the meaning of each of the following forms, and, with the meaning in mind, repeat the form until you are sure of it: — I shall go. You will go. He will go. We shall go. They will go. Shall you go? Will she go? Will it go? Will they go? Shall we go? Shan't we go? Won't you go? Won't she go? Will they not go? Sha'n't we go? May we go? May they go? I may go. You may go. Ought I to go? Ought you to go? Ought they to have gone? He ought to go. She ought to have gone. 3. In the following story, blanks have been left, each to be filled with some form of one of the verbs given in the list above. Copy the story carefully, spelling all 24 THE SENTENCE the words correctly, putting the marks of punctuation in properly, and, in each blank, inserting the verb that you think was intended for it . A TRIP IN A BALLOON John Edgerton early that morning on the farm. The sun had but not before John, for he his alarm- clock to call him and he at its first summons. Indeed, he had awake a long time listening for it. John was to the Fair. He had in the weekly newspaper the an- nouncement that a great balloon would at the Fair grounds that day, and he was . He had his boots when he heard old Molly, the cow, her voice for him to to feed her. She had to feel hungry. She was her best to let John know it. He had the cows to pas- ture, had the milk away, and had his breakfast, while the rest of the family still asleep. How long they would there John did not know. He a glass of milk, that his clothes well and then out down the road. He a merry tune, and every now and then into a happy laugh. He even a short distance, so eager was he to his day's sightseeing. I believe he would have , had he possessed wings. The day had well for John. John had many miles when at last he to the Fair. The first thing he was the monster balloon. He over to the place where it on the ground, waiting to be filled with the gas which would it in the air. Men had the pegs into the ground to which the guy ropes were tied firmly. The balloon could not away. The aeronaut about giving hurried orders. A crowd had near. They, too, had to the Fair to the great balloon that day. At length the balloon had in all the gas it could hold. It itself slowly until the basket car, attached, level on the ground below it. The aeronaut wished some one to with him. His voice out high above the murmurs of the curious crowd. "Who wishes to say he has like a bird.^" was his incessant cry. John his hand to attract the man's attention, for the babble, which had , had VERB FORMS 26 his words of inquiry "How much?" But the man him and glibly out "Three dollars, my friend, and cheap at that." "I to do it," thought John. "What would the folks at home say, if they could me through the air.'* I can say I have it, at least. I have the money with me," and he the sum asked for in the man's hand. Everything was now ready for the balloon to . The car perfectly still. A great fear — — upon John, but he his foot inside the basket and in. The moment . The balloon was free. They rapidly from the earth. The wind them swiftly on their course. John on the floor of the car for a while. Then he flat on the bottom of the car. The cold air his finger tips. He had the crowd cheer as they first but now he could not them. John himself enough to look over the rim of the car. Tiny black things with dots of white for faces about below on the ground. His head at the sight. He back again and soon asleep. The sun had in the west when John awoke. How far they had , how fast they had , and over what places they had , John did not know. He peeped over and that they had near the earth once more. He was glad they neither had into the sea nor had into a rain- cloud, when he felt a bump, bump, bump, and rip the distended silken sides of the gas bag overhead. A sharp tree- top had through into the inflated chamber of the bal- loon. The basket with its contents like a duck straight for the ground, while the silk bag on the topmost branches of the tree. John climbed out of the mass of wreckage; and that they had right in his own back pasture. His family had the whole happening. They into a hearty laugh when they it was John and that he had not . "The crazy thing ," said the disgusted John in explanation. ** in," they said, "and your supper. We have ours, but the stove is up and it won't take long to warm your supper. And you have in time, too, to do up the evening chores." Just then old Molly, down by the bars her head and mooed. 4. Write an account of " The First Time I Made a 26 THE SENTENCE Cake," in which you use some form of each of the fol- lowing verbs: — set, sit, raise, rise, heat, eat, fall, ought, begin, do, run, lay, see. Or, you may choose this subject, if better suited to your fancy, ** How I Learned to Skate (or Swim)." Use some form of each of the following verbs: — lay, lie, dive, swim, rise, raise, ought, hang, sing, go, fall, wring, freeze. Imagine a little incident for this, if you have had no real experience. The verbs themselves almost suggest what takes place. ADJECTIVES AND ADVERBS There are but few mistakes made in the use of ad- jectives and adverbs. The following rules cover most of the errors that are at all common: — 1. To denote an attribute of the subject, use an adjective, not . an adverb. Adverbs are often incorrectly used after such copula- tive verbs as appears, looks, seems, feels, tastes, smeUs, sounds, etc. Incorrect: I feel badly. The flower smells sweetly. The dress looks finely. Correct: I feel bad. The flower smells sweet. The dress looks fine. 2. Never use adjectives where adverbs should be used. The words most often mistreated are good, bad, real, awful, some, and most. The words that should be used are well, badly, really, very, somewhat, and almost. ADJECTIVES AND ADVERBS 27 Incorrect: He reasons good. The train had most stopped. He made an awful good address. Correct: He reasons well. The train had almost stopped. He made a very good address. 3. Never use the pronoim " them " for the adjective " those." Incorrect: James saw them boys. Correct: James saw those boys. 4. When two objects are compared, use the comparative de- gree of the adjective. Incorrect: Which is the tallest, James or I? Correct: Which is the taller, James or I? 5. Place every adverb so that there can be no mistake about what it modifies. In particular, watch the adverb only. Notice the dif- ference in meaning caused by change in the position of the word only. Only one man was hurt. One man only was hurt. One man was only hurt. EXERCISE 1. Choose the proper word for each of the following sentences : — 1. (Most, almost) every one will be there. 2. Which dress is the (cleaner, cleanest), this one or that? 3. He was (some, somewhat) tired after the long walk. 4. (Them, those) colors harmonize well. 5. That music sounds (good, well) to me. 6. My lessons are (almost, most) done. 7. What is the price of (those, them) oranges? 8. I am (really, real) well now. 9. Susie's hair is the (longer, longest) of the two. 10. It tastes (some, somewhat) sweet and yet (some, some- what) sour. 28 THE SENTENCE 11. My head feels (bad, badly) to-day. 12. How (nice, nicely) this tastes! 13. After that test I was (near, nearly) starved. 14. We arrived home (safe, safely) this morning. 15. The errand boy found the house (easy, easily) enough. 16. Make the drawing a little (round, rounder) at the side. 17. How (sweet, sweetly) that bird sings ! 18. See (them, those) calves in the field there. 19. We can hear the band (easily, easy) now. 20. The hare limped (tremblingly, trembling) through the frozen grass. 2. In the following sentences, place only so that it will modify different words and tell what change of meaning is effected by the change of position : — 1. Robert studied Latin this term. 2. Emily was allowed to whisper to Susie a moment. 3. Fanny sang two songs tolerably well. 4. The rugs for the house that was built last summer were bought yesterday. 5. I went down the garden-path as far as the white rose- bush. 6. Jack smiled but did not laugh when he saw the mistake that he had made. PREPOSITIONS Prepositions and conjunctions are small words, and perhaps because of this they are often incorrectly used. As a general rule, A preposition should not stand at the end of a sentence, unless, by placing it in another position, the sentence is made stiff and awkward. " Whom are you speaking to? " is correct, and it places the emphasis where it is intended, on the word ** whom." " To whom are you speaking? " is also correct, but it is not so common nor so effective. PREPOSITIONS 29 The custom of the best authors has decided that cer- tain prepositions shall be used with certain verbs and nouns, and any variation from this established usage displays ignorance. We should say: — between two among several in New York (a large city) at Clearwater (a small town) on Greene Avenue at 189 Crescent Avenue •- agree with a person agree to a proposal one thing corresponds to another one person corresponds loith another one person diflfers from another in appearance one person differs with another in opinion disappointed with what we have disappointed of what we hoped to have, and have not in need of (not "for") wait for a train or a person wait upon (to serve) listen to (not listen "at") a sound matter with (not "of") him died of (not "with") he is at home (not "to" home) one thing is different /rom another (not "to" or "than") Never use " of " with *' remember " or " recollect." Never say " back of " for behind, EXERCISE 1. Insert the proper prepositions in the blanks: — 1. Mark Twain was born the town of Florida, Mo. 2. I feel sick my stomach. 3. The crops are in great need rain. 4. We love to listen Nevin's songs. 5. The poor boy died tuberculosis. 6. Paupers cannot come this country (or come • the house). 30 THE SENTENCE 7. What is the matter Fido? 8. My book is different yours. 9. The baby is ill — croup. 10. Minnie waited Kate, and both were late. 11. The North was in sympathy the slave. 12. The violet in its color corresponds one part of the rainbow. 13. The President lives the White House. 14. The policeman settled the dispute the two newsboys. 15. France agreed Franklin that America should be free. 16. Washington never lived Washington. 17. My parents were disappointed my report card. 18. The cat corresponds the tiger, for they are of one family. 19. The maid said, ** My mistress is not home to-day/* 20. They agreed the plan suggested by the captain. CONJUNCTIONS 1. Correlative conjtmctions must be placed immediately before the words they are intended to connect. Either must be followed by or, and neither by nor. Incorrect: James had neither learned his algebra or his Eng- lish lesson. Correct: James had learned neither his algebra nor his English lesson. Incorrect: James had learned neither his Latin or studied his history. Correct: James had neither studied his Latin nor read over his history. 2. Never use the preposition like for the conjunction as. Incorrect: Read it like I do. Correct: Read it as I do. 3. Never use as for that or whether. Incorrect: He does not know as we have come. Correct : He does not know that we have come. He does not know whether we have come. 4. Never use the preposition without for the conjunction unless. CONJUNCTIONS 81 Incorrect: The crop will fail without there is rain. Correct: The crop will fail unless there is rain. 5. Never use but what to introduce a clause. Use but that with a clause or use a phrase. Incorrect: He never plays but what he is hurt. He does not know but what he may go. Correct: He never plays without being hurt. He does not know hut that he may go, 6. Never use the conjunction and for the sign of the present infinitive. The error usually follows the verb "try." Incorrect: Try and go. Correct: Try to go. Sentences like the following can be corrected only by a rearrangement : — He is as quick or quicker than James. It should read, — He is as quick as James, or quicker. EXERCISE 1. Correct the errors in the following sentences: — 1. Try and see me to-morrow. 2. I do not know if I can go. 8. Neither the girls or the boys went to the picnic. 4. She could not sleep without the window was open. 5. Father does n't see as he can paint the house this year. 6. I can't go anywhere but what my dog follows me. 7. The baby grows as strong or stronger than five-year-old Lucy. 8. The colt acted like it never had seen an automobile be- fore. 9. Reuben hurried to see if the apples were ripe. 10. It never rains but what it pours. 11. My head feels hke it is going to burst. 32 THE SENTENCE 12. He not only likes to read aloud, but also he likes to sing, 13. Try and be good to-day. 14. It seemed as the medicine did no good. 15. I make cookies just like grandmother does. 16. She is as tall or taller than her mother. 17. "Without you are very good, Santa Claus will not come here," Big Sister said. 18. Fanny ate not only the cake, but she also drank all the lemonade. 19. She would not go to Europe without she took her ko- dak. 2. Write a short story suggested by one of the fol- lowing outlines. They are all newspaper items: — 1. For three days a bright, curly-haired boy of three has been waiting at the City Police Station for some one to call for him. "Toddy" is the only name he can give. A big Scotch collie was with the child at the time he was found on the street and is still with him. The little fellow cried himself to sleep the first night with the call of Mamma on his lips. Will no one claim him? 2. Fire destroys the old street-car used as a little lunch place. Thomas Griswold, the proprietor, is blind. The lunch- counter was the sole means of support for his family of five small children. The mother is dead. Alice, the oldest girl, twelve years of age, is mother to the four other children. She keeps house and attends school. Griswold wishes very much to keep his little family together. 3. A gray-haired man died at his home not long ago. When a boy, he flew the kite across Niagara, to which the string was attached that drew over the cords, ropes, and cables, as the start in building the suspension bridge. He loved to tell the story to young people of how expert he was at kite-flying; of how the bridge-engineers, facing the prob- lem of spanning Niagara, came to him for aid ; of his many attempts; of the great interest taken in the performance. [Tell this story as if you were the old man talking to a group of children, or as one of the spectators there, the day the kite was flown.] PUNCTUATION 3S. PUNCTUATION Sentences may be grammatically correct, and yet be difficult to understand, because the relation of the parts is not made clear by marks of punctuation. The ear- liest written language had no marks of punctuation; and it is not very long ago that there were no capital letters. It would not be very confusing to do without our ornamental capital letters; but great annoyance would be experienced if we had to dispense with the marks of punctuation. These little marks help wonderfully in making the meaning of a sentence clear. How uncer- tain the meaning is without punctuation may be il- lustrated by the following sentences: " There stood the old chief taller than his companions at his birth he was so weak that his father feared lest he should die." If a period be placed after the word *' birth," the sentence is absurd. On the other hand, if a period be inserted after the word ** companions," the meaning is per- fectly clear. " There stood the old chief, taller than his companions. At his birth he was so weak that his father feared lest he should die." And it makes a dif- ference how this next sentence is punctuated: " Strong men and women, with gentle hands, were caring for the wounded; " or, '* Strong men, and women with gentle hands, were caring for the wounded." For clearness, then, writers use with care the marks of punctuation. There are marks of punctuation at the end of every sentence; and these are called the marks of final punctuation. They are the period, the exclamation marky and the interrogation mark. There are also marks of punctuation used within a sentence, called the marks of internal punctuation. The ones most often used are the comma, the semicolon, and the colon. 34 THE SENTENCE FINAL MARKS The rules for final punctuation are very simple. 1. A period is used to close a statement, a command, or a wish. None but the brave deserves the fair. Woodman, spare that tree. Lead us not into temptation. 2. An exclamation mark is used to close every expression of strong feeling. This mark generally follows an interjection, or an exclamatory sentence. "Come back, come back, Horatius!" Loud cried the Fathers all; "Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall!" 3. The question mark follows every direct question. This is true even when the question forms a part of a declarative sentence. Am I my brother's keeper? This is a question for all to answer: Am I my brother's keeper? THE COMMA Few errors are made in the use of the marks of final punctuation; but this can hardly be said of the marks of internal punctuation. A very few rules will be given here for these marks; but these should be known, and the correct use of the comma and the semicolon in all cases covered by these rules should be as much a habit as to use a capital letter at the beginning of a sentence. A sentence is usually made up of a simple subject and a simple predicate, modified by words, phrases, or clauses. Phrases and clauses are groups of closely related words. To show to the reader that the words THE COMMA 35 composing phrases or clauses are closely related in thought and therefore belong together, they are in many cases set off from the rest of the sentence by commas, sometimes by semicolons. For example, note how this sentence from The Sketch Book is built up: First, there is the main proposition, " Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the sager folks." Then, Irving adds a clause about these " folks,'* setting it off from the rest of the sentence by a comma: "Ichabod was at- tracted to a knot of the sager folks, who sat smoking at one end of the piazza." Within this clause a phrase, set off by commas, tells us that Van Tassel was in this group: " Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the sager folks, who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the piazza." Next he adds two phrases to tell what they were doing: " Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the sager folks, who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawing out long stories about the war.*' But first of all, he tells when all this happened, by a clause set off by commas; and the whole sentence reads : *' When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the sager folks, who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawing out long stories about the war." The general principle governing the use of commas is this: — Commas are used to set off "words or small groups of related words from the remainder of the sentence. They are found setting off — Words. I. Yes and no, when forming but part of an answer. Fe«, here's a bit of paper. 36 THE SENTENCE 2. A noun of address. Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber. 3. An appositive. The Indian chief, Tecumsek, was brave. 4. Explanatory adverbs, like perhaps, indeed, possibly. The time has come, indeed, when we must flee. Phrases. 5. Adverbial phrases, like to be sure, for that matter, of course, etc. Age, for instance, teaches patience and charity. 6. Descriptive adjective phrases. I found Johnny Bower, in blue coat and red waistcoat. 7. Descriptive participial phrases. There the dog stood, quivering with excitement from his nose to the tip of his tail. 8. Phrases of any kind, when out of their normal order. Immured in the Castle of Speyer, the fiery king of England had been like an eagle beating against the bars of its cage. Clauses. 9. Adjective clauses, introduced by conjimctive pronouns or conjimctive adverbs.^ » The setting off of a clause may depend upon whether it is descriptive or restrictive. The word restrict means " to limit " ; and restrictive means •• limitin};." Take the sentence, " All the men went to the hospital." In- troduce the clause, " that were sick," and the sentence no longer means " All the men " ; the number has been restricted by the clause. Such a clause is called a restrictive relative clause. But if we should write, " All the men, who were sick, went to the hospital," the meaning is entirely different. This sentence means that all the men were sick, and that all went to the hos- pital. The relative clause is not restrictive in this case ; it is descriptive, telling the condition of all the men. In the first sentence, the relative clause was not set off by commas ; in the other, the relative clause was set off by commas. The rules are : — A restrictive relative clause is not set oflf by commas; as, — The men that achieve success in this busy world are forever at work. A descriptive relative clause is set oflf by commas; as, — Successful men, who are so often the objects of begrudging jealoosy, have usually earned their success by hard work. THE COMMA 37 The lawn beyond was sheeted with a white covering of snow, which here and there sparkled as the moonbeams caught a frosty crystal. Immured in the Castle of Speyer, where the Rhine receives the tribute of the Speyerbachy the fiery king of England had been like an eagle beating against the bars of its cage. 10. Adverbial clauses a. When they precede the principal proposition. While the fourth edition of the Traveller was on the counters of the booksellers ^ the Vicar of Wakefield ap- peared. 6. When they follow the principal proposition and are long. He thought his fancy must have deceived him, and turned again to descend, when he heard the same cry ring through the evening, air: **Rip Van Winkle I Rip Van Winkle I " 11. Noun clauses, if long. The reason why so few good books are written is, thai so few people that can write know anything. However, most noun clauses are short, and are not preceded by a comma. Men know that to-morrow is the thief of time. 12. Independent propositions of a compound sentence, if they are not long or involved. He took it to a merchant, and the order was given. EXERCISE 1. The following sentences are punctuated correctly. Give the reason for all the marks of punctuation used in them: — 1. It is, indeed, a great achievement. 2. Knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in the firmament. 3. The SpectatoTy however, stood its ground. 38 THE SENTENCE 4. Indeed, of gallant Peleus I know nothing. 5. One friend, perhaps, in the stately procession nods to an- other. 6. You, too, my friend, all hail! 7. Brethren, I observe that you lie and steal and slander your neighbors a good deal. 8. Calypso, the heavenly goddess, smiled. 9. Yesterday, after twenty days, I escaped from the wine- dark sea. 10. Far out at sea the white sails flash, and the sunmier surf breaks gently along the shore. 11. Be it remembered that liberty must, at all hazards, be supported. We have a right to it, derived from our Maker. 12. They wished a battle, and wished it at once. 13. I found, as usual, that there was the least pretension where there was the most acknowledged title to respect. 14. There seemed, I must confess, but little pride in her com- position. 15. America has furnished to the world the character of Washington. And, if our American institutions had done nothing else, that alone would have entitled them to the respect of mankind. 16. The dance, like most dances after supper, was a merry one. 17. Taken in moderation, self-restraint is admirable. 18. There, by John's command, the mother and the son were starved to death. 19. The banquet, which had been delayed from hour to hour, could no longer be postponed. 20. He scarcely tasted the banquet, but seemed absorbed in his bride. 21. While Oliver was leading a life divided between squalid distress and squalid dissipation, his father died, leaving a mere pittance. 22. He joined a swarm of beggars, which made its nest in Axe Yard. 23. The boy's features, which were originally noble and not irregular, were distorted by his malady. 24. One of John's great vessels, according to the chroniclers of the time, was worth four of those in the service of Louis. 25. It had a river, the great Miami River, which was as blue as the sky when it was not yellow as gold. THE COMMA 89 26. Every child begins the world again, to some extent, and loves to stay out doors, even in wet and cold. 27. Civilization has created palaces, but it is not so easy to create noblemen and kings. 28. If ever Love, as poets sing, delights to visit a cottage, it must be the cottage of an English peasant. 2. The meaning of the following sentences can be made clear by means of punctuation. Insert the marks where you think they should be, and give a reason for the insertion : — 1. It was a very low fire indeed for such a bitter night. 2. Little children love one another. 3. He came home however in time to catch the train. 4. Welcome learned Cicero thou art welcome! 5. Well sit we down and let us hear Bernardo speak of this. 6. Having thus spoken he galloped off with his followers. 7. Sing out children as the little thrushes do. 8. Come we must part friends. 9. Elaine the lily maid of Astolat embroidered in her tower. 10. Round the decay of that colossal wreck boundless and bare the lone and level sands stretch far away. 11. Children are as we say always on the move. 12. If humility becomes self-conscious it is lost. 13. The teaching of manners used to be charged for as a special accomplishment in our old private schools. 14. While you converse with lords and dukes I have their betters here my books. 15. Frightened by the automobile the horse reared and plunged. 16. The horse frightened by the automobile reared and plunged. 17. Because the horse was frightened by the automobile it reared and plunged. 18. Although a small child is sometimes charged with idle- ness there is nothing which it abominates more. 19. Many a carol old and saintly sang the minstrel. 20. The fire with well dried logs supplied Went roaring up the chimney wide. 40 THE SENTENCE 21. Men may come and men may go But I go on forever. 22. We met a child gathering flowers who showed us the way. 23. Never elated while one man 's oppressed Never dejected while another 's blessed. 24. Learn of the mole to plough the worm to weave. 25. Well that year as the story runs there was a great famine in the land. OTHER USES OF THE COMMA The other rules for the use of commas are very simple : — 13. Commas are used to separate the parts of a. A date ; July 28, 1910. h, A location; Minneapolis, Hennepin County, Minnesota, c. The address of a letter; Hon. Thomas Jefferson, Monticello, Va. 14. A comma may follow the salutation of a letter, and must follow the complimentary close. My dear Sir, Very truly yours, etc. 15. Words or expressions in a series should be separated from one another by commas, unless all the connecting words are expressed. His consort, a fine, fleshy, comfortable dame, followed. We drew towards the shore, entered a creek, and landed near some old palisades. Shining and tall and fair and straight As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate. 16. A short, informal quotation should be separated from the words of the author by a comma, or by commas. "I do love you," said Jackanapes. "In our country," she remarked, "there's only one day at a time." OTHER USES OF THE COMMA 41 17. If, however, the quotation is broken where there would be a semicolon separating the clauses of the quotation, a comma precedes the words of the author, and a semicolon follows them. Alice said, "I did n't know I was to have a party at all; but if there is to be one, I think I ought to invite the guests." Change the position of the words of the author, and the sentence is punctuated this way : — "I didn't know I was to have a party at all," said Alice; "but if there is to be one, I think I ought to invite the guests." EXERCISE 1. Give the reasons for the use of commas in the fol- lowing expressions and sentences: — 1. June 10, 1910. Oct. 14, 1492. Sept. 6, 1905. 2. Sedalia, Pettis County, Missouri. Quincy, Adams County, Illinois. Poseyville, Posey County, Indiana. 3. Rev. John King, Richmond, Virginia. Robert Wallace and Son, Atlanta, Georgia. Miss Sarah Dudley, Lexington, Kentucky. 4. My dear Sir, Yours very truly. Dear Sir, Yours truly. My dear Mary, Yours sincerely, 5. Children delight to walk, run, skip, hop, climb, jump — in fact, to do anything that keeps the muscles moving. 6. A storm of thunder, lightning, and rain came on and cooled the air. 7. Old farmers, a spare, leathern-faced race, in homespun coats and breeches, huge shoes, and magnificent pewter buckles, were there. 42 THE SENTENCE 8. The General seized the pen, hurriedly wrote the order, enclosed it in an envelope, and dispatched the mes- senger. 9. The dying man raved about his bride, his engagement, his plighted word, ordered his horse, and expired in the fancied act of leaping into the saddle. 10. Lincoln wrote, "With malice toward none, with charity for all." 11. "Why, no," answered the clock, "I never tire, for I give only one tick at a time." 12. "They just took little bits of the sky and sprinkled them over the green world," mused the child; "and then these little blue bits turned into violets." 13. "I lisped in numbers," said Pope, " for the numbers came.'* 14. The recipe for making a doughnut read, "First take a hole and put a piece of dough around it." 15. The prisoner called down, "Bring a ball of fine silk, a ball of thread, a ball of stout twine, and a coil of rope, and I can escape." 2. Insert commas in the following sentences, giving the rule that governs each case: — 1. Something I fear me must have gone wrong. 2. To sum up Hotspur is a magnificent animal. 8. Genius at first is little more than a great capacity for re- ceiving discipline. 4. All this time the storm was gradually approaching. 5. The colors of the rainbow are red orange yellow green blue indigo and violet. 6. "It was" as I have said "a fine autumnal day." 7. Nelson said "England expects every man to do his duty." 8. Wee modest crimson-tipped flower. 9. Alone alone all all alone Alone on a wide wide sea! 10. "Gentlemen time and I against any two" Scott said to his creditors; "and I believe I shall be able to pay you every farthing." 11. I hate to see a load of bandboxes go along the street and I hate to see a parcel of big words without anything in them. THE SEMICOLON 43 12. Kinds hearts are more than coronets And simple faith than Norman blood. 13. Listen to the average school-boy. He has a dozen or two nouns half a dozen verbs three or four adjectives and enough conjunctions and prepositions to stick the con- glomerate together. 14. If you tickle us do we not laugh.'* 15. Now and then too one could hear the mourning dove calling far far off to his mate. 16. Truth crushed to earth shall rise again. 17. Tired wet dirty hungry and discouraged the boys returned from fishing. 18. When he was asked his name the boy replied My name is Josephus Orangeblossom but they call me Ceph for short. 19. The first falsehood the first theft the first act of cruelty the first exhibition of temper have a fearful significance when we think of the habits to which they may lead. 20. And like a lobster boiled the morn from black to red began to turn. 21. My Lord has need of these flowerets gay The reaper said and smiled. 22. He prayeth best who loveth best All things both great and small. 23. Aurora Goddess of morning stands blushing in her chariot. 24. They maintained the gravest faces the most mysterious silence and were withal the most melancholy party of pleasure he had ever witnessed. 25. Be truthful quiet manly frank straightforward in your conduct. 26. Buttons ribbons bits of gold lace shoe-buckles any trifle Washington wore is esteemed a priceless treasure. 27. Then the little Hiawatha learned of every bird its lan- guage how they built their nests in summer where they hid themselves in winter. THE SEMICOLON A semicolon is only a stronger comma. It is used where a comma seems too weak to serve the purpose. Below are the common rules for the use of the semi- colon: — 44 THE SENTENCE A semicolon should be used I. To separate independent propositions of a compound sen- tence a. If they are long. His [Washington's] public virtues and public prin- ciples were as firm as the earth on which it [the Monu- ment] stands; his personal motives, as pure as the serene heaven in which its summit is lost. 6. K they are strongly independent. Answer not before thou hast heard; and interrupt not in the midst of speech. c. If they are in sharp contrast. He that guardeth his mouth shall keep his life; but he that openeth wide his lips shall have destruction. 3. To separate a dependent clause from the independent pro- position, when the clause is long. In his early voyages, we find him passing from island to island, inquiring everywhere for gold ; as if God had opened the New World to the knowledge of the Old, only to gratify a passion equally senseless and sordid, and to offer up millions of an unoffending race of men to the destruc- tion of the sword, sharpened both by cruelty and rapacity. 3. To separate phrases and clauses in a series, if they are long or strongly independent of one another. It was inspiring and animating to witness the first awak- ening of spring; to feel its warm breath stealing over the senses; to see the moist yellow earth beginning to put forth the tender sprout and the green blade. He rode with short stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of his saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers'; he carried his small whip perpendicularly in his hand like a sceptre, and, as his horse jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. 4. Before as, introducing an example. ^ » Many illustrations of this use of the semicolon may be found in this chapter. THE SEMICOLON 45 EXERCISE 1. Tell the reasons for the use of the semicolons in the following sentences, taken from Webster's orations at the Bunker Hill Monument. The sentences should first be analyzed into their larger elements. 1. Venerable men! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold, how al- tered! The same heavens are indeed over your heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else how changed! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon; you see no mixed volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charles- town. The ground strewed with the dead and the dying; the impetuous charge; the steady and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of ter- ror there may be in war and death; — all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and coun- trymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutter- able emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a universal jubi- lee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appro- priately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and defence. All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your coun- try's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave. He has allowed you to behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and coun- trymen, to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you! 46 THE SENTENCE 2. [ Speaking of Washington ] Born upon our soil, of pa- rents also born upon it; never for a moment having had sight of the Old World; instructed, according to the modes of his time, only in the spare, plain, but whole- some elementary knowledge which our institutions pro- vide for the children of the people; growing up beneath and penetrated by the genuine influences of American society; living from infancy to manhood and age amidst our expanding, but not luxurious, civilization; partaking in our great destiny of labor, our long contest with unre- claimed nature and uncivilized man,, our agony of glory, the war of Independence, the great victory of peace, the formation of the Union, and the establishment of the Constitution — he is all, all our own! 3. To him who doubts whether our fervid liberty can be combined with law, with order, with the security of prop- erty, with the pursuits and advancement of happiness; to him who denies that our forms of government are cap- able of producing exaltation of soul and the passion of true glory; to him who denies that we have contributed any- thing to the stock of great lessons and great examples, — to all these I reply by pointing to Washington! 2. In the following sentences insert the commas and semicolons where you think they belong: — 1. I had scarcely taken orders a year before I began to think seriously of matrimony and chose my wife as she did her wedding-gown not for a fine glossy surface but for such qualities as would wear well. To do her justice she was a good-natured notable woman and as for breeding there were few country ladies who could show more. She could read any English book without much spelling but for pickling preserving and cooking none could excel her. 2. It is not much more than fifty years since the people in our country villages lived by farming the men mostly making their own sleds shingles axe-handles scythes brooms ox bows bread troughs and mortars the women carding spin- ning braiding binding and dyeing they sat around great fire-places with hanging crane fire-dogs and a spit turned by hand or by clock-work they made their own tallow THE COLON 47 candles and used even on festive occasions wooden blocks or raw potatoes for candlesticks they ate from pewter kept bright by the wild scouring-nish they doctored their own diseases by fifty different wild herbs all gathered near home and all put up in bags for the winter or hung in rows of dried bunches they spun by hour-glasses they used dials or had noon-marks at different points on the farm in many cases they did not sit down to regular meals but each took a bowl of milk and helped himself from the kettle of mashed potatoes or Indian pudding soap was made at home cheese pearlash birch vinegar cider baskets straw hats each farm was a factory of odds and ends a vil- lage store in itself a laboratory of applied mechanics. 3. In fact he declared it was of no use to work on his farm it was the most pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country everything about it went wrong and would go wrong in spite of him. His fences were continually falling to pieces his cow would either go astray or get among the cabbages weeds were sure to grow quicker in his fields than anywhere else the rain always made a point of setting in just as he had some out-door work to do so that though his patrimonial estate had dwindled away under his man- agement acre by acre until there was little more left than a mere patch of Indian corn and potatoes yet it was the worst conditioned farm in the neighborhood. THE COLON The word semicolon means " half a colon." The colon, then, has the use of a stronger semicolon, as the semi- colon seemed to be a stronger comma. Indeed, a colon is so strong a mark of punctuation that it is very seldom used to separate the independent propositions of a com- pound sentence; authors prefer to use shorter sentences separated by a period. I. A colon is used, though rarely, to separate propositions a. That are quite independent in thought and have no connective expressed. He who thinks much 'of himself will be in danger of 48 THE SENTENCE being forgotten by the rest of the world : he who is always trying to lay violent hands on reputation will not secure the best and most lasting. b. That are long, involved, and contain semicolons. You must know, then, that I am very well descended; my ancestors have made some noise in the world; for my mother cried oysters and my father beat a drum: I am told we have even had some trumpeters in our family. The colon is much more commonly used as the formal mark of punctuation. This use is illustrated by the following rules : — 2. A colon may follow the salutation of a letter. My dear Sir: Gentlemen: 3. A colon follows the names of the persons addressed in a speech. Honorable judges, ladies, and gentlemen: 4. A colon precedes a long and formal quotation; generally such a quotation forms a new and separate paragraph. He hung his tattered straw hat on the bedpost, and knelt beside Gay's crib with this whispered prayer: — "Our Father, who art in heaven, please help me to find a mother for Gay, one that she can call Mamma, and another one for me, if there's enough, but not unless." 5. A colon usually precedes a series of details in apposition with some general term. The generally recognized division of mankind with ref- erence to race is into three families: Caucasian, Mon- golian, and Negro. His dress was of the antique Dutch fashion: a cloth jerkin strapped round his waist, several pairs of breeches, the outer one of ample volume, decorated with rows of buttons down the sides and bunches at the knees. QUOTATION MARKS I. Every quotation of the exact words of an author must be \ enclosed within quotation marks. QUOTATION MARKS 49 2. If the quotation is broken by some words of the author, each part of it must be enclosed within quotation marks. 3. If the quotation is a question, it must be followed by a ques- tion mark set within the quotation marks. The White Queen asked, "Can you do addition?" "Can you do addition?" the White Queen asked. 4. If the quotation is an exclamation, it must be followed by an exclamation point set within the quotation marks. "Why, look here!" the Red Queen cried. 5. If the quotation is an assertion or a command and precedes the words of the author, the quotation should be followed by a comma. "It's the magician," Jim Leonard whispered to Pony. "Throw open the door of the boudoir, Aminidab," said Aylmer. 6. If a quotation is broken by words of the author at the place where there would be a semicolon separating the clauses of the quotation, a comma precedes the words of the author, and a semicolon follows them. "Do not be uneasy," said I; "here are diamonds enough for you and me, more than all the others have together.'* 7. Single marks of quotation (* *) enclose every quotation within a quotation. Bacon, writing Of Vain Glory ^ said: "It was prettily devised of (Esop, the fly sat upon the axle-tree of the chariot and said, * What a dust do I raise!'" 8. In reporting a conversation, make a new paragraph every time the speaker changes. This has not always been the rule among writers; but all modern writers follow it. "Crazy," the fireman muttered, looking to the engineer for his cue. I had been crazy, perhaps, but I was not crazy now. "Throw her wide open," I commanded. "Wide open! These are fresh turtle eggs for Professor Agassiz of Cambridge." 50 THE SENTENCE THE DASH 1. A dash is used to indicate an unexpected break in the forward movement of the thought. It is f oimd alone, or following other marks of punctuation. Humility is the first of the virtues — for other people. I don't mean that I taught them to read it, for it is dif- ficult to teach a cow to read Latin or any of the dead languages, — a cow cares more for her cud than she does for all the classics put together. Boston is just like other places of its size; — only perhaps, considering its excellent fish-market, paid fire department, superior monthly publications, and correct habits of spelling the English language, it has some right to look down on the mob of cities. 2. A dash is used to indicate hesitancy in speech under strong emotion. Hush! hush! let me speak — do not stop me. It is dreadful — let me tell all — to the very end, without flinching. Listen. 3. A dash, with or without a comma, is used to separate a word from a word or a series of words in apposition. At intervals, and not infrequent ones, the forest and the ocean summon me — one with the roar of its waves, the other with the murmur of its boughs — forth from the haunts of men. I hate to hear a young man say, "They all do it," — a shabby and odious phrase. EXERCISE 1. Separate the following into paragraphs as it should be and insert the proper marks of punctuation: — Please would you tell me said Alice a little timidly for she was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to speak first why your cat grins like that It's a Cheshire cat said the Duchess and that 's why Pig She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice quite jumped but she saw in another moment that it was addressed to the baby and not to her so she took courage and went on again I did n't CAPITAL LETTERS 51 know that Cheshire cats always grinned in fact I did n't know that cats could grin They all can said the Duchess and most of *em do I don't know of any that do Alice said very politely feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation you don't know much said the Duchess and that 's a fact Alice did not like the tone of this remark and thought it would be as well to introduce some other subject of conversation. CAPITAL LETTERS The common uses of capital letters you probably know. A capital letter should begin 1. Every new sentence. 2. Every line of poetry. 3. Every name of deity. 4. Every proper name. 5. Every adjective derived from a proper name, except such as have lost the significance of their origin. 6. The first word of every direct quotation. 7. Many abbreviations. EXERCISE 1. Insert the proper marks of punctuation in place of the carets, and change letters to capital where needed : — 1. Parting the counties of norfolk and lincoln to-day^ as in medieval times^ a broad inlet of the sea bears the name of "The Wash"^ five rivers find outlet to the ocean through this estuary^ its vast area of sands^ al- though passable at low tide^ has been the grave of many a venturous traveller on the 12th of October^ 1216^ a long cavalcade wound its way along the southern shores of The Wash ^ the steel armor of mounted knights flashed back the rays of the autumn sun^ archers and men at arms marched in solid phalanx^ silken banners fluttered in the breath of the sea^ but central amidst that host^ guarded with jealous care on the front and flank and rear^ rumbled a train of heavily laden wagons^ in them was such freightage as no graybeard in all england had ever seen before^ money beyond all computation^ wrung by torture from the high and the low^ jewels which the 52 THE SENTENCE great families had proudly kept as heirlooms^ and be- queathed from generation to generation^ costly garments adorned with gold and precious stones^ and endless stores of gold and silver vessels and vestments stiff with em- broidery^ from desecrated and plundered churches^ these and other spoils of robbery made the wheels of the great wains to creak and groan under the precious load. The tide had only partially receded^ no guide could be found to risk the leading of that host over the quick- sand of the wash^ but the furious temper of the chief would brook no delay^ leading the column^ he pushed rapidly on till he reached the sands through which the river welland winds^ suddenly the ground beneath their feet seemed to open^ whirlpools boiled with a foaming flood^ and sucked down into their depths men and horses and every wagon of the priceless baggage train^ a great part of the army was engulfed^ but their lord^ with those in immediate attendance upon him^ reached^ as by a miracle^ the other shore^ as John lackland looked back upon that frightful graveyard^ no man on earth constituted a stranger picture^ he was a king without a kingdom^ a ruler without subjects^ a leader without followers^ and a robber whose booty the hand of God had snatched away^ maddened by the disaster^ the king made his way to swineshead abbey^ where he was seized with a raging fever^ always the slave of his appetites^ he gorged himself that night on the good monks^ peaches and cider^ desperately ill next morning^ he persisted in push- ing northward^ bent on some new scheme of slaughter and devastation^ no longer able to bestride his horse^ he was carried for a little way upon a rude litter woven by his attendants of willow boughs cut with their swords^ but with shrieks and curses he cried out that this wicker vehicle was an instrument of torture^ and once more they lifted him upon his horse^ so he came to newark^ the traveller in the north of england^ visiting that ancient city^ is still shown the ruined castle of the bishop of lincoln^ overlooking the waters of the trent^ in some chamber of that now crumbling edifice^ at the hour of midnight on the 18th of October^ 1216^ John lackland closed his career of unexampled crime. CAPITAL LETTERS 53 A lady living in the suburbs of an American city heard one day^ just before breakfast-time^ a timid knock at her front door^ opening it^ she saw before her a beautiful Itah'an boy^ perhaps ten years old^ and looking as if he had just stepped out from a canvas of raphael or francia^ his soft eyes^ his tangled hair^ his trustful smile won her instantly^ and when he stated in a voice as lovely as his face that he desired some breakfast^ she ordered everything in the house to be set before him^ he ate with deliberate and comprehensive appetite while she sat at his side rewarded occasionally by a flash of the same seraphic smile^ even breakfast has its limitations^ and she at last dismissed him from the door with a sigh of regret^ happening to go out some two hours later^ she found him sitting peacefully on the steps^ smiling upon her as trustfully as ever^ why^ she said with surprise^ i thought you had gone away long ago^ oh^ no^ he said in the same heavenly voice^ what for go away^ plenty time go away^ Emerson somewhere says that at every moment of a man's life it is he himself and nobody else who fixes his position^ Coleridge was fond of an anecdote concerning a silent stranger who sat next him at a public dinner^ and who would have remained a dignified and commanding figure in his memory^ had not the excellence of some apple dumplings called him for a moment from his shell of silence^ coming out of it^ he ardently exclaimed^ thems the jockies for me^ after that he might have been a saint or hero at hearty but the case was hopeless in the mind of coleridge^ there may be whole grades of social standing in a single sentence^ if a stranger begins by saying in our hearing^ we was^ or^ he done it^ we regard him as distinctly uneducated even though he be a college professor or a member of congress^ of a little higher grade would be the errors^ I don't knowas^ or^ a great ways^ or^ cute^ i remember when an ardent young friend of mine^ who had climbed to the top of an old-fashioned stage coach in order to be near a certain celebrated orator^ presently heard him remark to his little daughter^ sis^ do you set comfortable where you be^at the next stopping place^ my young friend decided that the day was very windy and thought she would get down again and ride inside. 54 THE SENTENCE 2. Below are given outlines of two very familiar stories of American history. Choose the one you pre- fer to write about, and then let your fancy make up a good story. Tell it so vividly that every one can see just how it happened. MOLLY PITCHER'S SOLILOQUY Molly learns of her husband's sudden death; sees the need of someone to take his place; decides to take it herself. Where is her cannon stationed? Give a line or two describ- ing the scene. Has she ever fired a cannon before.'^ Where or how did she learn? Is she afraid of the cannon? Is she afraid of the enemy? Does she think and act like a woman? What is a soliloquy? Imagine you are standing right there with her and hear her real thoughts. Let Molly's thoughts tell all that took place as if it were really happening before her. Keep some incident in mind to make a strong ending. ETHAN ALLEN CAPTURES TICONDEROGA You learn of the secret undertaking to capture Ticonderoga, and join the party; meet the men gathered together in the woods; listen to the directions of their leader; cross the river silently in the dead hour of night; climb the steep hill, on which the fort stands; surprise the guards at the gate, take them prisoners, etc. Now give this entire story as if you were safe at home again at the fireside telling your mother and father, who had been unwilling to let you go. You can see that they are proud of you, and you can tell them everything just as it took place. Go to the very end of the adventure where you entered the bed-chamber and captured the British commander. You are not afraid to praise yourself somewhat, for you know that mother will understand, and father will wish now that he had gone too. Make them see it all so plainly that mother will afterwards say, "I really believe I must have been there.** Be sure to keep for the last something that will make every one around the fire say, "Good for Ethan Allen! Three cheers for Ethan Allen!" CHAPTER II FORMS OF DISCOURSE In the first paragraph of this book, it was made plain that composition in reality means the selection and ar- rangement of materials to produce a desired result. Musicians, painters, and authors compose when they select and arrange their materials. Yet when English composition is spoken of, it is generally understood that, in addition to selecting and arranging materials, there must be an expression by means of language so complete that the story, the picture, the idea in the mind of the writer may be carried over to the mind of the reader. Whoever completely and effectively conveys his thoughts and feelings from his own mind to the mind of another by either spoken or written words is skillful in the use of language. All composition may be arranged in two great groups. The first group includes composition that deals with real things and incidents; the second group includes composition that deals with thoughts or ideas. The first group tells what things do, and how things look. It includes narration and description. Narration deals with occurrences; description deals with appearances. The second group explains, or proves, or arouses to action. It includes exposition, argumentation, and per- suasion. Exposition explains a term or a statement; argumentation proves the truth or the falsity of a statement; persuasion urges to belief or action. Ex- position explains; argumentation proves; persuasion arouses. These are the broad distinctions that sepa- 56 FORMS OF DISCOURSE rate the five forms of discourse. This simple diagram may be a help in remembering their relation: — Composition concerning Things ( Narration relates. ( Description pictures, ( Exposition explains, concerning Ideas •< Argumentation proves. I Persuasion arouses. Narration is that form of discourse which relates events in sequence. It includes stories, biographies, tales of travel, and some histories. Description is that form of discourse which aims to present a picture. Description does not often occur alone; it is usually found making a part of some other form of discourse, especially of narration. Exposition is that form of discourse which aims to explain a term or a proposition. Text-books, many histories, many magazine articles, and editorials belong to this class of literature. Argumentation is that form of discourse which aims to prove the truth or falsity of a proposition. School debates and lawyers' pleas are examples of argumentation . Persuasion is that form of discourse which aims to influence a man's will and actions. Political addresses and sermons illustrate this class. Very seldom is any form of discourse found without some mixture of other forms. All stories contain some description; and very often it is necessary to use de- scription in order to explain. A debater has need of narration, description, and exposition; while a great FORMS OF DISCOURSE 57 orator or preacher explains and proves his propositions, and uses both narration and description to illustrate and enforce his point. To distinguish among the forms of discourse, it is necessary to know the purpose of the author, as shown by his work. If his aim is to tell a story, the form of discourse he produces is narration, no matter how much description it may contain. If his purpose is to make his readers see some objects as he sees them, the form is description. If his purpose is to explain something so that his readers may understand it, he has used ex- position. If his purpose is to prove some proposition, he has constructed an argument. If his purpose is to influence the will of his hearers or readers, to change their behavior, he has used persuasion. English Composition, then, is a study of the selection and arrangement of ideas, and of the methods of using the English language to communicate them. All com- position is divided into five great classes. These classes have broad lines of distinction, which are most easily applied by ascertaining the purpose of the author. EXERCISE 1. Below are ten paragraphs — two illustrating each form of discourse. Read them carefully. Deter- mine the purpose of the author. Tell what form of dis- course each paragraph is. Do any of the paragraphs contain sentences of another form of discourse? Which are they? 1. Jackanapes had had the start of the Postman by nearly ten minutes. The world — the round, green world with an oak tree on it — was just becoming very interesting to him. He had tried, vigorously but ineffectually, to mount a passing pig the last time he was taken out walk- 58 FORMS OF DISCOURSE ing; but then he was encumbered with a nurse. Now he was his own master, and might, by courage and energy, become the master of that delightful downy, dumpy, yellow thing that was bobbing along over the green grass in front of him. Forward! Charge! He aimed well, and grabbed it, but only to feel the delicious downiness and dumpiness slipping through his fingers as he fell upon his face. "Quack!" said the yellow thing, and wobbled oflF sideways. It was this oblique movement that enabled Jackanapes to come up with it, for it was bound for the Pond, and therefore obliged to come back into line. He failed again from top-heaviness, and his prey escaped sideways as before, and, as before, lost ground in getting back to the direct road to the Pond. And at the Pond the Postman found them both, — one yellow thing rocking safely on the ripples that lie beyond duck-weed, and the other washing his draggled frock with tears because he too had tried to sit upon the Pond and it would n't hold him. — Ewing. 2. The one exception was the smallest of them, — a very, very little girl, with long auburn hair and black eyes; such a very little girl that every one in the house looked at her first, and then looked at no one else. She was apparently as unconcerned toall about her, excepting the pretty prima donna, as though she were by a piano at home practising a singing lesson. She seemed to think it was some new sort of game. When the prima donna raised her arms, the child raised hers; when the prima donna courtesied, she stumbled into one, and straightened herself just in time to get the curls out of her eyes, and to see that the prima donna was laughing at her, and to smile cheerfully back, as if to say, " We are doing our best anyway, are n't we ?" She had big, gentle eyes and two wonderful dimples, and in the excitement of the dancing and the singing her eyes laughed and flashed, and the dimples deepened and dis- appeared and reappeared again. She was as happy and innocent looking as though it were nine in the morning and she were playing school at a kindergarten. — Richard Harding Davis. S. During the reply I had an opportunity of surveying the appearance of our new companion. His hat was pinched • FORMS OF DISCOURSE 50 up with peculiar smartness; his looks were pale, thin, and sharp; round his neck he wore a broad black ribbon, and in his bosom a buckle studded with glass; his coat was trimmed with tarnished twist; he wore by his side a sword with a black hilt; and his stockings of silk, though newly washed, were grown yellow by long service. I was so much engaged with the peculiarity of his dress that I attended only to the latter part of my friend's reply, in which he complimented Mr. Tibbs on the taste of his clothes and the bloom in his countenance. — Goldsmith. 4. The figures were clustered in an irregular group in front of an old farm-house . . . The photographer had not been able to conceal the fact that they were all decent, honest-looking, sensible people, with a very fair share of beauty among the young girls; some of these were ex- tremely pretty, in fact. He had put them into awkward and constrained attitudes, of course; and they all looked as if they had the instrument of torture which photo- graphers call a head-rest under their occiputs. Here and there an elderly lady's face was a mere blur; and some of the younger children had twitched themselves into waver- ing shadows, and might have passed for spirit-photo- graphs of their own little ghosts. It was the standard family-group photograph, in which most Americans have figured at some time or other; and Lapham exhibited a just satisfaction in it. — Howells. 5. Work is good. No one seriously doubts this truth. Adam may have doubted it when he first took spade in hand, and Eve when she scoured her first pots and kettles; but in the course of a few thousand years we have learned to know and value this honest, troublesome, faithful, and extremely exacting friend. — Agnes Repplier. 6. For the question at issue is not what kind of poetry is wholesome for children, but what kind of poetry do children love. In nineteen cases out of twenty, that which they love is good for them, and they can giiide themselves a great deal better than we can hope to guide them. I once asked a friend who had spent many years in teaching little girls and boys whether her small pupils, when left to their own discretion, ever chose any of the pretty, trivial verses out of new books and magazines for study 60 FORMS OF DISCOURSE and recitation. She answered, "Never." They turned instinctively to the same old favorites she has been listening to so long; to the same familiar poems that their fathers and mothers had probably studied and re- cited before them. Hohenlinden, Glenara, Lord XJllirCs Daughter^ Young Lochinvar, Rosabellcy To Lucasta, on Going to the Wars, the lullaby from The Princess, Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Annabel Lee, Longfellow's translation of The Castle by the Sea, and The Skeleton in Armor, — these are the themes of which children never weary; these are the songs that are sung forever in their secret Paradise of Delights. The little volumes containing such tried and proven friends grow shabby with much handling; and I have seen them marked all over with mysterious crosses and dots and stars, each of which denoted the exact degree of affection which the child bore to the poem thus honored and approved. — Repplier. 7. He had so many private virtues! And had James the Second no private virtues.'^ Was Oliver Cromwell, his bitterest enemies themselves being judges, destitute of private virtues? And what, after all, are the virtues ascribed to Charles.'* A religious zeal, not more sincere than that of his son, and fully as weak and narrow-minded, and a few of the ordinary household decencies which half the tombstones in England claim for those who lie be- neath them. A good father! A good husband! Ample apologies, indeed, for fifteen years of persecution, tyranny, and falsehood ! — Macaulay. 8. But, my lords, who is the man that, in addition to the disgrace and mischiefs of the war, has dared to authorize and associate to our arms the tomahawk and scalping- knife of the savage? — to call into civilized alliance the wild and inhuman inhabitants of the woods? — to delegate to the merciless Indian the defence of our disputed rights, and to wage the horrors of this barbarous war against our brethren? My lords, these enormities cry aloud for redress and punishment. — William Pitt. 9. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task re- FORMS OF DISCOURSE 61 maining before us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion, — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. — Abraham Lincoln. 10. Let our object be our country, our whole country, and nothing but our country. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself become a vast and splendid monument, not of oppression and terror, but of wisdom, of peace, and of liberty, upon which the world may gaze with admiration forever. — Daniel Webster. 2. Bring to class an example of each form of discourse. Generally you will find them all in some part of the Sun- day editions of our great daily newspapers. Most maga- zines contain examples of at least three forms of dis- course; and the Youth* s Companion often contains all forms. 3. Below are some subjects for compositions. Tell what form of discourse you would use in writing of each of these subjects. 1. The First Snowball. 2. What the Telephone Has Done for Country Life. 3. The View down the Street. 4. Patriotism Must Continually be Kept Alive. 5. It Happened on a Street-car. 6. School Honor. 7. Should a Lie Ever Be Told? 8. And Then I Cried. 9. Be Truthful. 10. Grandmother, Bless Her! 11. A Hot Sunday in Church. 12. Why I Dread Examinations, 13. Playing at Being a Ghost. 14. Tommy Tucker, Our Cat. 15. What Fibbing Leads to. 62 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 16. Do the Colored Picture Supplements in the Newspapers Exert the Best Influence? 17. The Pupil Who Tries Simply to Pass. 18. Hunting for my First Job as an OflSce Boy. 19. The Need of Playgrounds in Our Big Cities. 20. How Wireless Saved the Ship. NARRATION Narration has been defined as that form of dis- course which relates events in sequence. It includes not only letters, journals, biographies, books of travel, and histories; but, in addition, that great body of liter- ature which people generally include in the compre- hensive term, '* stories." Narration deals with things, as does description; but the difference is that narration deals with the actions of things, while description deals with the appearance of things. " John struck James " is a narrative sentence; it tells that John has been doing something. Still this one sentence would not ordinarily be regarded as a piece of narration. To have narration, as it is generally under- stood, there must be a series, or sequence, of individual actions. Relating events in sequence is narration. Narration is the most popular form of discourse. Be- tween one fourth and one third of all the books pub- lished are stories; and more than one half the books issued by the libraries belong to the narrative class. Such a computation does not include the large number of stories printed in our papers and magazines. Besides being the most popular form of discourse, it is the most natural; for it is the first form of connected discourse spoken by the child, it is the form employed by the un- cultured in giving their impressions, and it is the form most used in conversation. Then again, narration is the first form found in the great literatures; the Iliad and NARRATION 63 the Odyssey, the stories of the Bible, the songs of the troubadours of France, and of the minnesingers of Ger- many, the chronicles and ballads of merry England, — all are narrative. Language, as a means of expression, is specially suited to narration. Music may be the best means of expressing the finer feelings; line and color may best convey to us the appearance of objects; but language is the surest means of telling a story. The mind does not think in single words, but in groups of words, complete enough so that they represent a single idea. " He had dropped his cut- lass " is such a group of words. The first word, " He,'* makes almost no impression; and the first three words are unsatisfactory, because the mind does not yet know whether he dropped his watch or dropped out of sight. But when the whole group of words has been spoken, then the action is clear. Such a group of words is like a picture thrown upon a screen. And just as a series of single pictures tells a story at the moving picture show, so a series of groups of words tells a story in man's everyday life. The pictures on the screen follow one after the other in the order in which the events hap- pened; and the groups of words in a story follow one another in the same way. Take this lurid bit from Stevenson's Kidnapped : — He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at that either my courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to the same thing; for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the body.^ In this paragraph, each phrase or clause represents a unit of thought — "he had dropped his cutlass," " he jumped," " when he felt the pistol," and so forth; and these groups of words follow one after the other in the 1 By permisBion of the PubliBhers, Charles Scribner's Sons. 64 FORMS OF DISCOURSE order in which the events must have occurred. So it is seen that language, as a means of expression, is es- pecially suited to telling a story. The events which are recorded and the phrases which record them follow one after the other in the same sequence. EXERCISE Possibly no form of narration so clearly illustrates this sequence of events as does a diary, or journal. That you may see how this is, and how well adapted to the needs of a story language is, you may write one of the follow- ing:— 1. A diary of your own life for three days. Do not go too much into detail, but give the principal things that you have done in three days. 2. A diary of a cat for three days. 3. A journal of your last trip away from home, or of an outing. 4. A journal of a hunting or fishing excursion. 5. An accurate account of a single experience in making something in the kitchen. This will be almost a recipe for the making of a cake, or bread, or fudge, or for cook- ing a steak, or any other kind of food. ORDER OF EVENTS The sequence of events in narration may be the simple sequence of time. This is the form of narration found in newspapers when giving the events of the day. It is used in journals, biographies, and elementary histories. It makes little demand upon an author further than that he shall say something that is interesting so that it may be easily understood. Managers of newspapers and magazines are on the lookout for interesting ma- terial; and it is chiefly for the matter they secure, not for their way of telling it, that their periodicals are read. ORDER OF EVENTS 65 The sequence may be the more binding relation of cause and effect. In this sequence one thing happens because another has happened. This is the sequence found in magazine stories and novels. Generally the sequence of time and the sequence of cause and effect correspond; for effects must come after causes. How- ever, when more than one cause is introduced, and we have two or three series of events related, it is necessary to carry on one part of the story alone, and afterwards to go back and pick up the other part of the story. This is seen in so simple a story as The Spectre Bridegroom, where the two threads of the story cannot be carried forward together. After introducing us to the great house of Baron Katzenellenbogen, with its large pre- parations for the wedding of the charming daughter, and then picturing for us the distressing delay, Irving says, " While the old castle of Landshort was in this state of perplexity, a very different scene was transact- ing in a different part of the Odenwald." And then, when we have learned of the sudden attack of the ban- dits and the untimely death of the bridegroom, he says, "It is now high time that we should return to the an- cient family of Katzenellenbogen," etc. The time order was broken to introduce an episode that was necessary to an understanding of the story; and now the tale may go on. Such an arrangement is very common in the telling of stories; and may be termed the broken time order. Then, too, an author may tell effects, but keep the cause hidden until he can produce it to the reader's surprise. In the same tale. The Spectre Bridegroom^ at the end of one paragraph we read, "Her room was empty — the bed had not been slept in — the window was open, and the bird had flown! " And the next para- 66 FORMS OF DISCOURSE graph continues, '* The astonishment and concern . . . can only be imagined," etc. Here we have an effect, and our interest is aroused to learn what was the hidden cause. And this we learn when finally the events that preceded the departure of the beautiful daughter are related, and the mystery is " cleared up." This arrange- ment is the same that is usually found in detective stories. The mystery, which was the result of causes at work, is placed before the reader at the beginning. It is the business of the detective to find the cause that produced the effect. And this search makes the story. Such an arrangement, in which the effect precedes the cause, might be termed the inverted order. PLOT A story is said to have plot, when, by a skillful handling of its several incidents, the reader's interest is aroused concerning the result of it all. Books of travel and biographies, as whole books, are generally "jvithout any arrangement involved enough to be termed a plot; yet a large part of the interest in such books would be lost were the incidents not well told, with a conscious attempt to set them out in the best fashion, — if, in fact, each incident itself did not have a slight plot. On the other hand, in Vanity Fair with its six hundred pages, in Silas Mamer with its two hundred pages, in the spicy anecdotes and short stories found in our best magazines, the authors have used their skill to maintain interest to the very end. They have constructed plots. Still there may be plot in a story when it follows exactly the time order. How wonderfully Aldrich has kept up the interest in Our New Neighbors ! Still he has followed without variation the order of time. Very few PLOT 67 stories conceal the secret as well as this; and almost never does one meet with a more deHghtful surprise, unless it be in Marjorie Daw or Goliath, by the same author. In each it is impossible to tell how the whole thing will turn out; and this mystery has all been brought about by very skillful telling. It is worth while to go over these stories just to see how often the reader has been told the whole secret, which he has never guessed. These stories have plot. A simple plot has but few causes at work to bring about the final outcome, and it requires but few actors and few changes of time and scene. An intricate, or in- volved, plot has many causes at work, and requires many actors and frequent changes of time and place. For example, Robinson Crusoe has but slight plot. The plot in Treasure Island is simple; so is that of The Man without a Country. The plot of A Tale of Two Cities is intricate; so are the plots of The Mill on the Floss and Julius CcBsar. Any treatment of the parts of a story so that the* reader's interest is aroused concerning the result of the series of events narrated is a plot. EXERCISE 1. The following outlines for short stories have been taken from newspaper items. Arrange each outline in a different way, and tell whether it is better in the new order, or as it stands here. Choose one of the themes and write it out in a good story : — 1. a. "Hide and seek'* with a burglar. b. Householder fails in his attempt to arrest intruder. c. Police come too late. 2. a. Diamond rings given to the ice man. 68 FORMS OF DISCOURSE b. Envelope supposed to contain ten cents sent down on the dumb waiter from Flat 6 in Lincoln Apartments. c. Ice man in jail. 3. a. Great doings in Antville. b. Ground ants delighted beyond words. c. Physician ants too busy to talk for publication. d. Big picnic at the lake yesterday. e. Ants enjoy fried chicken, sandwiches, cherry-pie, and lemonade. 4. a. Charles Lyons, a twelve-year-old boy, gone all night. b. Found in the morning by a policeman, his eyes blistered by tears. c. Had been sent to the bank by a neighbor to deposit some money. d. The money was lost. e. Could not face the poor woman by whom he had been sent to the bank. 2. Find three interesting items in the newspaper. Outline them in the exact time order. Then rearrange them in the inverted order. PRINCIPLES OF STRUCTURE In the construction of any English composition, there are three principles of primary importance, called the Principles of Structure. They are Unity, Mass, and Coherence. Unity. Before a person can write a composition, he must have the material. It may be something he has heard, something he has done, something he has read, or something he has imagined. Then out of his treasure of material he must select that which will help along the theme he has chosen. He makes his selection in ac- cordance with the principle of Unity. Unity is that principle of structure which demands that every part of a composition shall contribute its share to the central thought of the whole. PRINCIPLES OF STRUCTURE 69 A picture has unity when the objects have been so selected that all contribute to the thought the artist wishes to express. The introduction of a wash-tub into a group made up of spectacles, lamp, and Holy Book would ruin the picture. So the suggestion of war would destroy the quiet serenity of Irving*s beautiful picture of Sleepy Hollow. Note the following paragraph : — My inferiority to these companions of mine depressed me. They were allowed to go without shoes and stockings; they wore loose and comfortable old clothes, and were under no responsibility to keep them dry or clean or whole; they had their pockets literally bulging now with all sorts of portentous engines of noise and racket — huge brown "double-enders," bound with waxed cord; long, slim, vicious-looking "nigger- chasers"; big "Union torpedoes," covered with clay, which made a report like a horse-pistol, and were invaluable for frightening farmers' horses; and so on through an extended catalogue of recondite and sinister explosives, upon which I looked with awe, as their owners from time to time exhibited them with the proud simplicity of those accustomed to great- ness. Several of thase boys also possessed toy cannons, which would be brought forth at twilight. They spoke firmly of ramming them to the muzzle with grass, to produce a greater noise — even if it burst them and killed everybody. — Harold Frederic.^ This paragraph has Unity; every sentence makes it clear that the other boys were superior, by boy stand- ards. But introduce into the paragraph one sentence telling that his father was much better off than the pa- rents of those other boys, and that he was well clothed, had plenty of money in his pockets, and could run his father's . automobile, and the unity of the whole im- pression would be destroyed. Aldrich's story. Our New Neighbors, contains not a single sentence that does not help forward the delightful narrative. The story has 1 Copyright, 1808, 1894, 1897, by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permission of the Publishers. 70 FORMS OF DISCOURSE Unity. Whether of a sentence, a paragraph, or a whole composition, all those parts must be excluded that do not bring something of value to the whole; and every- thing must be included that is necessary to give a clear understanding of the whole. The selection of material must be made in obedience to this first and most impor- tant principle of structure — Unity. EXERCISE 1. The outline below is made in strict time order: — A MOLASSES CANDY FROLIC a. I receive an invitation to a party at a country home. 6. A hayrack is the conveyance: gathering the company. c. The ride. Who was with whom? What did the com- pany do? d. The arrival. Getting acquainted. e. The awkward beginning of the party. /. The change that came when the candy began to boil. g. Pulling candy. h. The games. i. The return. Now introduce the unfortunate fact that some boys were not invited to the party, and that they determined to make themselves troublesome. This gives two series of incidents and makes broken time order necessary. Make a new outline, including these two parts of the story. Is this story better than the first one? 2. Make outlines for the following subjects. Be sure that every division of your outline contributes some- thing worth while to the central thought of the whole; that your story has Unity. Can you change one of your outlines so as to produce a story with broken time order or inverted order? PRINCIPLES OF STRUCTURE 71 1. A Week-end with a Chum in the Country. 2. How I Earned Money to Go to a Picnic. 3. Building Our Shack. Mass and Coherence. When the material for any piece of composition has been selected according to the principle of Unity, it must be cleverly arranged, if the writer would get the best results from his material. The principles of structure according to which material is arranged are Mass and Coherence. Mass is that principle of structure which demands that, in composition, the parts that are of most importance shall be placed in positions of importance. The beginning and the end of a sentence, the begin- ning and the end of a paragraph, the beginning and the end of a story or an essay are the positions of most im- portance in each. When a piece of composition — a sentence, a paragraph, an essay — is well massed, im- portant matters stand in these important positions. The application of the principle of Coherence will be most clearly seen in an easy sentence. Take this: " Habits of speech which are to continue through a life- time cannot be formed in a few short periods spent in grammar classes." The clause " which are to continue through a lifetime " is a modifier of ** Habits of speech,'* and it stands in its proper place — as near as possible to the word it modifies. Now move it to another posi- tion, and the sentence becomes absurd: " Habits of speech cannot be formed in a few short periods which are to continue through a lifetime spent in grammar classes." How ridiculous a sentence may be when a clause is away from the word it modifies is illustrated by the following: (1) " The happy couple left on the train for the city amid a shower of rice, where they will spend 72 FORMS OF DISCOURSE a few days before making their home at Melrose." (2) " Erected to the memory of James Allen, shot July 16, 1843, as a mark of affection by his brother." In the arrangement of a sentence, every phrase and every clause must be placed as near as possible to the word it modifies. In the following paragraph, sentences have been moved away from the places they originally occupied, and away from the words they modified. The sentences do not stick together; the paragraph has not Coherence. (a) Blue Bob must have had a last name, but none of the little fellows knew what it was. (b) He was the only person that the watchman let go on the bridge for two days, (c) Every- body called him Blue Bob, because he had such a thick, black beard that when he was just shaved his face looked perfectly blue, (d) That was all the boys said when they followed Blue Bob to the bridge and saw him getting out on the pier, (e?) He knew all about the river and its ways; and if it had been any use to go out in a boat, he would have gone. If the sentences be read in this order — a, c, e, d, b, the paragraph will have a clear meaning, and each sen- tence will seem to grow out of the one preceding. In the arrangement of the parts of a paragraph, sentences that are related must be placed together, and those that are not related must be kept apart; then the para- graph will have Coherence. This principle of Coherence guides, too, in the ar- rangement of the incidents that make up a story. The incidents must hang together; they must be closely connected. Suppose that the outline on page 70 were in this order, how very unfortunate it would be ! A MOLASSES CANDY FROLIC a. I receive an invitation to a party at a country home. b. The arrival. Getting acquainted. PRINCIPLES OF STRUCTURE 73 c. The awkward beginning of the party. d. A hayrack is the conveyance: gathering the company. e. The ride. Who was with whom? What did the company do? /. The games. g. The change that came when the candy began to boil. h. Pulling candy. t. The return. Could you make an arrangement that would be worse? It is disconnected, disjointed; a reader must jump about from one thing to another, instead of advancing stead- ily from one event to the one that naturally comes next in order. In a sentence, then, in a paragraph, in an es- say, those parts must stand together which belong to- gether. By such an arrangement sentences, paragraphs, and compositions have Coherence. Coherence is that principle of structure which demands that, in composition, parts which are closely related in thought shall be kept close together in expression; and that parts separated in thought shall be kept separated in expression. EXERCISE 1. You have read, I hope, Beauty and the Beast and Jacky the Giant Killer. If you have not, possibly you know some other equally good stories. If you have any of these at home or in your school library, separate one of them into its incidents, arranging them in the order in which they are told. Do the incidents follow one another in the order in which it is easiest to remem- ber them? What is the order of arrangement: time order, cause and effect order, or inverted order? Has the story Coherence? Does the story close with an important incident? Is it arranged, then, in accordance with the principle of Mass? 74 FORMS OF DISCOURSE Other stories that will serve well are : — Ali-Baba and the Forty Thieves The Faithful Tin Soldier Cinderella Gallegher Rumpel-Stilts-Kin Roger Malvin's Burial The Courtship of Miles Standish Wee Willie Winkie 2. Following the suggestions below, write about one of these incidents from United States history : — THE NIGHT OF THE BOSTON TEA PARTY Benny had noticed there was something unusual in the air at home. Father was so mysterious. He and Mother held whispered consultations in the entry. Once through the half- open bedroom door he caught sight of something on the bed that looked like the war-bonnet of the Indian Chief, Old Blackfoot. Mother said there were no war-bonnets in the house that had been worn by any Indian she knew of; and yet, he thought his mother smiled a little as she said that. What did it all mean.'* He went to bed early, as usual, but not to sleep. Tell how he slipped out; what he saw in the streets; how he followed the crowd; what happened at the wharf, and what very interesting thing happened to Benny. Give time to each of these situations; but, of course, give more time to what happened to Benny. BETSY ROSS MAKES THE FLAG Before you begin to write, fancy yourself living back in Revolutionary days. From pictures you have seen, imagine a sitting-room — its leaded casement windows, the white sash curtains, the blooming plant on the wide sill, the pewter dishes shining in a row on the shelf, the bare floor, the spinning wheel. It is in this room that you find Betsy Ross when you make a call; and it is with the call that you begin the story. She is placing pieces of cloth together, — red, white, and blue pieces, — some cut in stripes and some cut in stars. You wonder what she is doing. She explains it all to you, as you sit sewing, or chatting over a cup of tea: how the pieces were obtained; why red, white, and blue were chosen; how THE MAIN INCIDENT 75 the flag was to be set together; and what it would be the sym- bol of. Introduce into your account from time to time, as it seems best, some of the details of the room you have imagined, and the striking features of the dress and face of the Betsy Ross you see. Put your chief thought, however, on the story itself. Tell it in a dialogue, if you Hke; or you may have Betsy Ross tell the whole story. THE MAIN INCIDENT The study has now carried us to the point where we are ready to make some application of the principles we have learned. If a writer wishes to select material that contributes to the one central thought; if he wishes to arrange the material so that each new incident helps the reader forward with the story; if he wishes to keep the reader's attention up to the very last, one simple rule is of great value. It is this: — First choose the main incident, toward which all the other inci- dents converge, and for which all the preceding incidents are necessary. There should be in each story, however slight the plot, some incident that is more important than the others, and toward which all the others converge. A reader is disappointed if, after reading the story through, he finds that there is no worthy ending, that all the pre- paration has been made for no purpose. If, in The Spectre Bridegrooniy Irving had stopped just after the " bird had flown," it would have been an unsatisfactory story. It would have had no ending. It is because a story gets somewhere that we like it. Yet not just any- where; a story must arrive at a place worthy of all the preparation that has preceded. A very common fault with the compositions of young persons is that they begin big and end little. It is not infrequent that the first incident promises well; the 76 FORMS OF DISCOURSE second is not quite so good; and the others gradually fall off until the end is worthless. The order should be changed. Have the first paragraph promise well; make the second better; and write the others so that the last shall be best of all. The main incident should be made more interesting than any incident that precedes it. Get the main incident in mind before beginning; be very sure that it is the main incident; then bend all your energies to make it the incident toward which all the other incidents converge. The main incident is placed at the end of a story be- cause it is the result of the other incidents, and because by being there it holds the reader's interest to the last. Moreover, it should be found at the end of a story, if the writer observes the second principle of structure, Mass. An essay is well massed if the parts are so ar- ranged that the things of importance will arrest the at- tention. The positions that catch the attention in sen- tence, paragraph, or essay, are the beginning and the end. Since the mind usually retains the clearest im- pression of the thing it received last, the end of a sen- tence, a paragraph, or an essay leaves a stronger impres- sion than does the beginning. The climax of a story, then, should come at the end, because it is the result of the preceding incidents, and because by this position it receives additional emphasis. The beginning of a story is the position of second im- portance. What, then, shall stand in this place? In ways, a story resembles a puzzle. The solution of the puzzle is given at the end; the thing of next importance is the conditions of the puzzle. The conditions of a story must be: first, the persons; second, the place; third, the time; fourth, the situation. By situation is signified the relation of the different elements in the story at the THE MAIN INCIDENT 77 time the action begins. These conditions, answering the questions Who? Where? When? and What? are all introduced as near the beginning of the narrative as is possible. In a short story, they may often be found in the first paragraph; in a long novel, in the first few chapters. In Marmioriy the time, the place, and the principal character are introduced in the first canto. Irving begins The Legend of Sleepy Hollow with the place, and soon after come the characters. In all stories the beginning is used to give the conditions. With the conditions clearly set out at the beginning, and the main incident at the end, a composition will be rid of worthless introductions and trailing conclusions. A story should get under way at once; and any unneces- sary explanations at the beginning, the introduction of long descriptions or tiresome paragraphs of " fine writing," will be headed off if the writer keeps con- stantly in mind that everything must lead directly toward the main incident. And further, if everything has converged toward the main incident, then, when that is told, the story is finished. After that there must be no explanations, no moralizing, nothing. When the story has been told, stop. An excellent example of a story well told is An In- cident of the French Camp, by Robert Browning. Only the absolutely necessary has been introduced. The inci- dents flash before the reader. Nothing can be said after the last line. AN INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP You know, we French storm'd Ratisbon: A mile or so away On a little mound. Napoleon Stood on our storming day; — 78 FORMS OF DISCOURSE With neck out-thrust, you fancy how. Legs wide, arms locked behind. As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. Just as perhaps he mused, " My plans That soar, to earth may fall. Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall," — Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew A rider, bound on bound Full-galloping; nor bridle drew Until he reached the mound. Then oflF there flung in smiling joy. And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed. Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon! The Marshal 's in the market-place. And you'll be there anon To see your flag-bird flap his vans Where I, to heart's desire. Perched him!" The chief's eye flashed; his plans Soared up again like fire. The chief's eye flashed; but presently Softened itself, as sheathes A film the mother-eagle's eye When her bruised eaglet breathes; "You're wounded!" "Nay," the soldier's pride Touched to the quick, he said: "I'm killed. Sire!" And his chief beside. Smiling the boy fell dead. THE MAIN INCIDENT 79 EXERCISE - 1. Below are given the endings of three little stories. Select one of them, and write what you think must have happened before to bring about such an ending. Re- member what you must include at the beginning of your story. 1. The mother stood at the bedside, smiling down at the sleeping boy. His tousled head lay buried in the pillow; his flushed cheek still bore the tear-stains of the afternoon. She thought to herself, "I know he 's mischievous and often does wrong; but after all, he's no coward. And he's truth- ful and honest and brave as he has shown to-day; and I'm proud of him." 2. Father looked thoughtful, but said nothing; Mother could scarcely conceal the smile which played about her mouth. All she said, when we had finished our story, was, "Well, you children do beat all to plan things! Who but you two would have thought of doing that?" And we knew from her voice and her smile that she was pleased. 3. Betty could restrain her tears no longer. No one was near, so she sat down on the front steps and cried softly to her- self. Sam came around the corner of the house at that moment, bat in hand, on his way to join the other boys on the play-ground. He realized at once the cause of his sister's grief. He hesitated a bit, and then stepping up to her side said, earnestly, "Betty, indeed I'm very sorry. I wish I had n't done it." 2. Below are given the beginnings of several good stories. Find what conditions of the story are told in each — the time, the place, the characters, the reason. Sometimes time and place are not definitely told, yet it is possible from some little phrase to reason out when and where. Choose the beginning you prefer, and write what you think would be the ending. To do this it will be necessary for you to think the story through to the 80 FORMS OF DISCOURSE end. Remember that the ending will be the main incident. 1. At five o'clock on the morning of the tenth of July, 1860, the front door of a certain house on Anchor Street, in the ancient seaport town of Rivermouth, might have been observed to open with great caution. This door, as the least imaginative reader may easily conjecture, did not open itself. It was opened by Miss Margaret Callaghan, who immediately closed it softly behind her, paused for a few seconds with an embarrassed air on the stone step, and then, throwing a furtive glance up at the second story windows, passed hastily down the street towards the river. 2. Old Moses Taylor sat in front of his log cabin mending a bear trap. It was in the autunm of a year in the early settlement period of Kentucky, when the pioneers still waged war against their enemies, — the Indians, and the wild animals of the forest. S. There were once five and twenty tin soldiers, all brothers, for they were the offspring of the same old tin spoon. Each man shouldered his gun, kept his eyes well to the front, and wore the smartest red and blue uniform imagin- able. The first they heard in their new world, when the lid was taken off the box, was a little boy clapping his hands and crying, "Soldiers, soldiers!" All the soldiers were exactly alike with one exception, and he differed from the rest in having only one leg. For he was made last, and there was not quite enough tin left to finish him. However, he stood just as well on his one leg as the others on two; in fact, he is the very one who is to become famous. 4. I live at No. Twenty-sixth Street, in this city. The house is a curious one. It has enjoyed for the last two years the reputation of being haunted. 5. It was the day before the great boat excursion. Nearly all of the school were going. Little groups had gathered in the classroom or on the playground and discussed the coming joy for a whole week past. Emily Dana's mother had finished the pretty gingham Emily was to wear, and it lay spread out on the bed in the spare room upstairs, by the side of the new hat with roses on it. The girls were WHAT SHALL GO INTO A STORY 81 glad Emily was going; she was always so good-natured and jolly. "She is the most unselfish girl I ever knew," Alice Russell said to her friend, as they walked home together from school that day. Emily at that moment was sitting at the window of her own Httle room at home. She was thinking, and in the lines about her closely drawn mouth, one could see a firm resolve. "Yes, I beheve I'll do it," she said half aloud to herself. "I have so many pleasures, I can afford to do it. I'll go now and attend to it." 6. Polly Caruthers had been invited to come to spend the day with me. Mother had gone away to New Brighton to do some much needed shopping, leaving me the entire charge of the house and of my young brother, Billy. But that brother! You know Billy, and you know how mis- chievous he is, and how he dislikes to have me in com- mand. He is only a little younger than I am in years, but Mother often says that I am twice as old as he is in judgment, and that's why I'm left to look after things while she 's gone. Well, Polly came, and for a while every- thing went beautifully. Billy is n't what you 'd call mean- spirited, you know, but he does love to torment any one and try to get the upper hand whenever he can. WHAT SHALL GO INTO A STORY When once it has been decided what are to be the beginning and the end of a story, the next question is, what shall go into the story. A writer is helped to answer this question by his choice of a main inci- dent; for, conforming to the principle of Unity, he must include all that is necessary to bring about the ending, and he must exclude everything that does not help. The W(5rld is full of incidents. Any day at a busy corner in a city a phonograph and a camera could gather enough to fill a volume; yet these pictures and these bits of conversation, interesting as each in itself might 82 FORMS OF DISCOURSE be, would not be a unit — would be not parts of one story, but many separate stories. Few persons would write anything as disjointed as the report made by a phonograph ; yet many a writer — even among those with experience — has been led astray by some very inter- esting episode that he wished to tell. One incident calls up another; paragraph follows paragraph naturally; and, before he knows it, the writer has forgotten that his course was marked out for him when he chose his main incident. He has left the main road — he has di- gressed, and he must now get back to the road. This phrase of Kipling's should ring in every story-teller's ear : *' But that is another story." Do not digress; tell one story at a time. Keep your eye on the main incident; and exclude everything that does not un- questionably contribute to it. You know now what is to be excluded from a story; and the question that next arises is. What shall I in- clude? Again the main incident will be the guide; for every detail must be included that is necessary to make the main incident possible. A young person wrote about a party in the woods. To reach the place it was necessary to take a train. The girls had found seats in a railway car, and were chatting with their friends, when they felt a sudden lurch; and soon one of the party was be- smeared with the sticky whites of eggs. Now, if eggs were in the habit of clinging to the roofs of cars and breaking at unfortunate moments, there would be no need of any explanation; but in this case the cook had been in a great hurry and had neglected to boil the eggs, and one of the girls had put them into the rack herself. Enough of this should have been told to make the misfortune a possibility. Stories are full of surprises; but, if they are well told, WHAT SHALL GO INTO A STORY 83 the surprises can easily be understood from the pre- ceding incidents. In the end of Our New Neighbors at Ponkapog, the surprise has been so well arranged for that the wonder is that it is not guessed long before the conclusion. Any surprise must be natural — the result of causes at work in the story, or else of circumstances always happening and by themselves no surprise. If the story be a tangled web of incidents, as in Jackanapes, many details must be included; for it would be impossible to see the golden-haired hero of the conclusion in the little baby " morsel of humanity," which came to dwell on " the Green." It needed the generous mischief of childhood and the noble courage of boyhood to make the reader ready for Jackanapes's lofty disdain of death when a fellow-soldier was in danger. Similarly, a reader could not harmonize the idea of " old Scrooge," gained in the first chapter of the Christmas Carol, with the generous Mr. Scrooge of the last without the inter- vening chapters. Keeping the main incident in mind, include everything that is necessary to make that in- cident possible. If every incident gives real help to the story, there will be a fortunate scarcity of silly and useless events, which often fill up the compositions of young people. Such essays often start off with " One bright morning, a party of four of us," and, after recounting a dozen incidents of no consequence whatever, conclude with the familiar " We came home to a late supper, well re- paid for our day's outing." Such compositions may be entirely correct in the choice of words, in sentence and paragraph structure, and yet be very flat and worthless. There is nothing to them; they leave no single clear impression. Instead of writing in this aimless fashion, pick out one of the incidents. Work it up into a story. 84 FORMS OF DISCOURSE Always remember that a short anecdote well told is worth more than pages of aimless wandering. EXERCISE Select one of the incidents from your diary or jour- nal, assigned on page 64 ; make a good story of it. Do not hesitate to let your imagination help you, if you think of something that would make the story better than it really was. Most story-writers have to do this. WHO SHALL TELL THE STORY There is one more condition that influences the selec- tion of material : it makes a difference who tells the story. If one of the actors tells the story, he cannot be sup- posed to know all that the other characters do when out of sight and hearing, nor can he know what they think. Take an illustration from a pupil's essay, the substance of which is as follows: A girl took her baby sister out on the lake in a row-boat. A violent storm arose, lashing the lake into a fury. The oars were wrenched from her hands. Helpless upon the water, how was she to be saved? Up to this point in the essay, the writer had told the incidents in the first person; that is, she, an actor, told just what she did and what she knew. But here she recited a great amount of detail about what her mother was doing at home, telling her conversation with other members of the family and of her terrible fright lest her children should be drowned. These things the girl could not have known in her char- acter of chief actor in this story, though she could have learned about them afterwards. These things she should have excluded altogether; or, if necessary to an under- standing of the story, she should have introduced them WHO SHALL TELL THE STORY 85 with some such words as, " I learned afterwards," or " That night they told me." Stevenson, the skillful story-teller, makes no such mistake in Kidnapped. In the vivid story of the battle at the round house, David, the principal actor and the one who tells the story, tells nothing that he could not have seen or heard while he was holding the round house, not one thing that he must have learned afterward. It would be interesting to know what those old sailors were saying and doing outside; but David cannot tell, for he does not know. Many stories, probably most stories, are told in the third person. In this case the author assumes the role of an all- wise power, who knows everything that is done, said, or thought by any of the characters. Not only what happens in the next room, but what is thought at the other side of the world is comprehended in his great wisdom. This is the position assumed by Irving in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by Mrs. Ewing in Jackanapesy by Dickens in The Tale of Two Cities, and by most great novelists. While most of us may know, or think we know, what we should do in certain con- ditions, to be able to know what some other person would do and think under the same circumstances requires a sure knowledge of character, and the ability to become for a time a person entirely unlike one's self. On the whole, it is possibly better for the beginner to take the point of view of one of the actors, and to tell the story in the first person. As he becomes more practiced in story-telling, he may assume the wider role. To sum up what has been said about the selection of material for a story : — know what story you are going to tell ; let no other story in, however good it may be ; include every detail necessary to make the whole story consistent, and the outcome of the story probable. 86 FORMS OF DISCOURSE EXERCISE 1. Here are the outlines of two stories. Choose one of them to rewrite, as directed. It will be very different from the story as it is given here. 1. Mrs. Raymond had gone shopping on this April day. No umbrella except an old one was at home; so she carried that. In the store she leaned it against the counter while she made her purchases. When she had finished, she put her hand down to take her umbrella. Her wrist was seized by a strange woman at her side. "No, you don't," exclaimed the woman. "Let go of my umbrella." Mrs. Raymond looked down and, to her astonishment, saw that she did not have her own umbrella, but was hold- ing a fine, new silk one; while her own, slit and disreputable, leaned against the counter. She made profuse apologies, which were coldly received by the woman, with uplifted eyebrows. Later in the day, the sun came out; and Mrs. Raymond, remembering that her husband had left their other better umbrellas to be mended, called at the shop for them. With the three umbrellas strapped together, she stepped on the street-car to go home. As she sat there, she became con- scious of the steady gaze of some one sitting opposite her. She looked up and saw the woman of the morning inci- dent, smiling at the bundle of umbrellas at her side. "A very profitable morning, after all, I see," the woman remarked significantly. Now tell this story as the mistaken woman told it to her family at dinner that night. 2. When the Princess Victoria was a little girl, before she was queen, she was allowed one time to make a visit of several days to her uncle and her aunt, the King and the Queen of England. Victoria's mother, the Duchess of Kent, was exceedingly careful, even strict, in the child's bringing up; and it was a great treat for the Princess to make this visit unattended by her mother. IN WHAT ORDER SHALL STORY BE TOLD 87 Her aunt Adelaide, the Queen, feared that Victoria would be lonely in the quiet palace with no other little people to amuse her, so she said to her, *'My dear, I want you to enjoy your visit with us very much, and I want you to do those things you care for most. There's the fish-pond with many little fish swimming in it, and you may catch them if you like. There 's the pony wait- ing for you to ride him in the park; or you may take your hoop and trundle it up and down the garden paths." The child's face was serious, thoughtful. The Queen saw that she had not yet proposed the desired thing. "What is it, Victoria? What would you like to do.?'* **0h, Aunt, if I only might," she exclaimed — "I have always wanted to do this, and I have never been allowed to. Do you suppose — oh, please. Aunt Adelaide, may I wash the windows .''" And Victoria was given plenty of cloths, and soap, and water, and allowed to wash windows to her heart's con- tent. Rewrite this incident and tell it from the child's point of view. Imagine yourself to be Victoria and try to feel and express yourself just as you think she would. Let her tell this circumstance to her mother, on her re- turn home. IN WHAT ORDER SHALL THE STORY BE TOLD Having the end and the beginning of a story clearly in mind, and knowing the material that is to be included, the writer next thinks of how to get from the beginning to the end. Shall the incidents be arrranged in the order in which they occurred? Or shall other considerations change the time order? If the story be a narrative of the journal form, whether a diary or a biography, the time order will direct the sequence of events. Again, if it be a simple plot with a single series of events, time order will probably prevail. If, however, it be a narrative 88 FORMS OF DISCOURSE with several series of events, as a history or a novel, it will be necessary to deviate from the time sequence, and there will be broken time order. It would have been unskillful for Scott to hold strictly to time order in Marmion. After introducing the principal character, giving the time and the setting, it was necessary for him to introduce another element of the plot in Constance, and to go backward in time in order to pick up this thread of the sto^J^ We have seen, also, that an author sometimes wishes to give his plot interest by telling an effect before he discloses its cause; this was the case in The Spectre Bridegroom. In such a story it is manifestly impossible to observe the time order. Parts of such a story will be in the inverted order. Unless for the two reasons given, — one, that it is impossible for an author to tell two things at a time; and the other, that sometimes a plot is improved by disclosing an effect before its cause is given, — a story should follow the order in which the events happened. A simple story always follows the order of time; and in long stories and novels this same time order governs the arrangement of most of the incidents. There is one exception to this rule, so common that it should be noted. It is necessary to have at the very beginning of a story some incident that will arrest the attention. This does not mean that the persons, place, and time shall not come first. They should; but they should be so introduced as to make an interesting open- ing to the story. The novels of some years ago did not recognize this principle enough. One can frequently hear it said of Scott's stories, ** I can't get started with them; they are too dry." His introductory chapters are often uninteresting. So much history is introduced. IN WHAT ORDER SHALL STORY BE TOLD 89 so much scenery is described, before he sets out his characters; and all this is done before he begins the real story. Once get past these tedious beginnings, and Scott's stories are fascinating. But novelists of to-day realize that they must interest their reader at the begin- ning. When they have caught him, they are certain that he will bear with them while they bring up the other parts of the story, which are now interesting be- cause they throw light on what has already been told. Dramatists, even more than novelists, recognize this principle. When the curtain rises on the first act, some- thing interesting is going on. The action often begins far along in the whole time covered by the play; then, by cleverly arranged conversation, all the past circum- stances necessary to the understanding of the story are introduced. The audience receives these minor, yet essential, details with no impatience, since they explain in part a situation already interesting. One practical consideration will assist in arranging the parts of a story. Use an outline. It will help you to guard against the omission of any detail that may afterward be found necessary, and so against the neces- sity of offering the apology, inexcusable in prepared work, of " I forgot to say." Moreover, an outline will help you to see the logical and the best arrangement of the parts of your story. Much of the success of any story is due to skillful arrangement, concealing or dis- closing incidents at fortunate times, as the plot may demand. The outline in narration should not be too much in detail; nor should it be followed, if, as the story progresses, new light comes, and you see a better way to proceed. In such a case, make a new outline, being sure that it is consistent with what you have used of the old. An outline is a most valuable servant to a 90 FORMS OF DISCOURSE writer; but a writer should be the master of his outhne, not its slave. EXERCISE 1. Below are given the outlines of three stories, with a conclusion for each. Choose one and make a complete story. The conclusion need not be re- written. HOW CONSTANCE CONQUERED Introduction. The long dreaded time had come. Constance was allowed to remain home from school all day, so that she might be thoroughly rested and in good trim for the evening. In all the fifteen years of her life there was nothing that Constance Holbrough had ever looked forward to with so much mingled anticipation and fear as that recital. She had been taking lessons on the piano from Madame de Chanwix for four years, but not till now had she attained the dignity of being allowed to take part in the annual recital of great Madame's older and more advanced pupils. Body. 1st Paragraph. Choosing the selection. The story of Beetho- ven's Moonlight Sonata. Practicing to master the selection. Uncle GeoflF's interest. 2d Paragraph. Uncle Geoff's confidence in Constance. His encouragement. Offers to reward her if she is successful. Constance plays the Sonata well at last, but best in the moonlight. Sd Paragraph. Dressing for the recital. 4th Paragraph. The gathering of the guests. Madame's ap- pearance. Uncle Geoff there. 5th Paragraph. The concert begins. Constance attempts to play and fails. 6th Paragraph. Constance's feelings as the recital proceeds. 7th Paragraph. Uncle Geoff's note of encouragement. 8th Paragraph. Constance's decision. She asks Madame to be allowed to try again, and to have no light but moonlight. 9th Paragraph. Madame tells her guests briefly the history of the Moonlight Sonata; and then the lights are lowered. 10th Paragraph : Main incident. Constance plays. Her suc- cess. The applause. IN WHAT ORDER SHALL STORY BE TOLD 91 Conclusion. With a half timid bow, she reached her seat just as the lovely little bouquet of pink roses was handed to her. As the cheering finally ended, and the last number was being given, Constance came gradually to herself, and knew that she had vindicated the faith of her dear ones and scored the success of the evening. Attached to her bouquet was a little envelope, and from it she drew a tiny card on which had been hastily scrawled, — " Confidence intact. Trip to Europe safe. Congratulations! Uncle Geoff." "But it was only Uncle Geoff's belief in me that did it!" sighed Constance happily. THE SHACK IN JONES'S BACK YARD Introduction. Three friends, Chad Taylor, and Tom and Fred Jones, brothers, decide to build a shack. It is to be erected in the back yard of the Jones's home early in vacation. Body I. Building the shack. a. Collecting materials and building the shack. b. They move in and prepare to enjoy it. c. Cook supper and sit about the fire afterward, telling stories. n. Enemies in the neighborhood. a. Those "Kelly kids," not having been invited to join the enterprise, ridicule the architecture of the building. b. A war of words. c. Threats made to harm the shack and its owners. HI. Plans thwarted, and dissensions arise. o. The boys plan to guard their premises by sleeping there, but receive a set-back. b. Chad's mother objects to the plan. She will not allow Chad to remain out all night. c. The Jones boys laugh at Chad, call him "sissy-boy." Angry words follow. d. With feelings hurt, Chad plans to have revenge on his companions. rV. Carrying out the plan for revenge. a. Chad, under cover of darkness, plays the r61e of the "Kelly kids." 92 FORMS OF DISCOURSE b. Attacks the shack with stones and clubs, intending to arouse and frighten its sleeping inmates. Calls names, threatens, challenges them to come out. c. The sudden appearance of Mr. Jones and the bull-dog at the back door causes Chad to flee. « V. (Climax.) The narrow escape. a. Chad is chased by the dog and almost caught. b. Tall grass provides a shelter until quiet is restored. c. Chad sneaks quietly and cautiously home, and to bed. Conclusion. Chad awoke early next morning. He lay think- ing of last night's adventure. He smiled, as he thought of how near he had come to being caught. It was like those boys to get their father and the bull-dog to help them! It was clear that they were scared and afraid to come out, but they would be sure to brag of how brave they had been. He smiled again over the pleasure he would have in drawing them out. The boys were on the roof of the shack, busy adding some new feature to the structure, when Chad, with his hands in his pockets, lounged leisurely up. He had de- cided, for various reasons, to let the boys begin the conversation. He was n't quite sure how much the light streaming from the open kitchen door, the night before, had revealed as to the identity of the marauding party. Silence was safer yet awhile, anyhow. "Well, Chad, you missed some fun when your mother would n't let you come over last night. Just as we were eating supper. Uncle Jim came by in his automo- bile, with his pocket full of tickets for the show, and he took us all in with him. He had more tickets than he could use, too! Oh, it was great fun! Horses and clowns and elephants and lemonade — it is too bad you were n't along, Chad. And what do you think ? That Kelly gang raided our shack while we were gone. Dad saw them, and Tige nearly caught one of them." Chad remembered the words he had written in his copy-book the week before school closed. They took on a real meaning to him now. "Speech is silvern; silence is golden.** IN WHAT ORDER SHALL STORY BE TOLD 93 AN EXPERIENCE IN A GARDEN Introduction. How Jane and Tommy Graham, brother and sister, are continually quarreling. Body. I. How Uncle John, who comes to spend the summer with them, takes note of how matters are, but says nothing. II. How Uncle John and the children plan a little coopera- tive garden on a vacant and rather sandy lot. m. How they all become interested in the growing garden, watching it, weeding it, and watering it. IV. How Uncle John still encourages them after a drouth sets in and the garden begins to fail. Conclusion. Day after day the sun rose seemingly hotter than ever; and the rows of beans and peas, in spite of the care given them, withered and dried. The long leaves on the cornstalks hung in flat, brown ribbons. Jane slipped out early one morning to look again for some sign of returning life in the little garden. Tommy was already there. He turned his head quickly away as Jane came down the path, but not in time to hide the fact that he had been crying. Jane stopped. It was a revelation to her. Could it be that Tommy cared too? It was the first touch of common sympathy they had ever known. "Oh, brother," she cried, "do you feel like that, too? I did n't know you cared so much. I'm so sorry. How we've worked! and how hard we've both tried to save it ! " And Jane's arm was about her brother's neck, and their tears fell together. As the family sat at breakfast a little later, the mother, looking up from the coffee she was pouring, noticed the red, swollen eyes of the two children on either side of her. "Why, children," she exclaimed, "I do believe you have been out there crying over that garden. But no one ever could raise anything on that sandy place. It always is a failure." "But, indeed, this garden has not been a failure," spoke up Uncle John quickly. " What some might call a failure, often turns out to be the greatest kind of success.'* And Uncle John smiled at his niece and his nephew, who understood and smiled back at him. 94 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 2. Below are given suggestions for four stories. The first is a bare outline; the second and the third are the beginnings of two good stories; and the last is a main incident. Pick out the one you believe you could make most interesting, and make an outline for it. Then write it out fully. 1. You have often noticed the blind organ-grinder and his little, old wife, at the busy street-corner. You have be- come interested in them simply from seeing them there so often. One evening, as you were passing the corner, you saw them preparing to go home. The thought came to you to follow them, and from curiosity to see where they lived you did so. You went through a part of the city strange to you. You saw the house. Was it what you had expected to see? It may have surprised you; or per- haps it was just as you fancied an organ-grinder's home might be. [A tiny bit of description could be given here, but give only a little.] You entered their home. You saw them at the table; you heard what they said, without yourself being seen. [What would an organ-grinder and his wife be likely to talk about. ^^ Do you see the in- terior? Plan something interesting for their conversation.] 2. Louise Hapgood was a fine girl; all the pupils liked her. At recess she could think of more games to play than all the others together could. She never wanted to leave any one out, either, — not even the little ones. One day we were right in the midst of a jolly game of "Drown the Duck," when Louise cried out suddenly, "Oh stop! stop! Keep still a minute. Shame on us all! We've forgotten something we should do." S. Bob walked down the street scuffing his heels and hitting with a stick anything within reach. Things had gone wrong at home, evidently. Mother had sent him to the store and he had left the house, sulking, banging the street- door as he went. At the corner he met Pony Barnes and Hal Greene with their skates, off for a good time on the ice. "Naw, I can't go," he growled in answer to their in- vitation to join them. "Mother won't let me, and besides MOVEMENT IN A STORY 95 I've got the furnace to clean." The thought came to him, though, as he -watched them go down to the lake, that perhaps he might slip off and go anyhow. But a few minutes later, as he was returning from the store, something happened which made him very glad that he had not yielded to the temptation. 4. There was a rap at the school-room door. I glanced up to see who the visitor could be. The door opened quietly, and in stepped — Mother. Of all afternoons, why, oh why, did she choose this one? Perhaps she would speak to the teacher a moment and then go? But no. Miss Mur- ray was seating her, and handing her a book. She would stay, too, probably, to the very end; and then — I would have to stand up with all the others and confess; and Mother would see, and hear me tell of my wrong-doing; and that morning I had meant to be so good ! I glanced at the clock. It was fifteen minutes to four. There was no hope for me. She would stay. I looked steadfastly at my book and pretended to be studying my next day's lesson. But I wasn't; I was trou- bled. I made up my mind that I would tell the truth, no matter what might happen later. Miss Murray would not forget to ask us; she never did forget. The grammar class finished its lesson, and Miss Murray called for attention. "You have been unusually quiet and studious this afternoon, children," she said, "and I am pleased. That slight disorder of this morning I will inquire into to-morrow. I am going to dismiss you on time without taking up that matter to-day." As she finished, I thought Miss Murray looked at me and smiled. Just then, two big tears rolled down and splashed right on the open page of my new geography. MOVEMENT IN A STORY Movement is an essential quality of narration; a story must advance. This does not mean that a story shall always go at the same rate, though it does mean that it shall move. If a story were as tense and rapid through- out as it is at its climax, it would be very tiresome. 96 FORMS OF DISCOURSE Music that is all thundering passages is unbearable; a picture must not be a glare of high lights. The quiet passages of music, the gray tones in the backgroimd of a picture, the slower chapters of a story, are as necessary as their opposites; indeed, a climax is dependent upon a contrast in order to be a climax. The matter of movement in a story resolves itself into these two questions: How is rapidity of movement obtained? and, How can a writer delay the movement? Rapidity is gained by the omission of all unnecessary details, and the use of the shortest sentences to express what is absolutely essential. Dependent clauses will disappear; and either the sentences will be simple, — just one sharp statement, — or they will be made of coordinate clauses with no connectives. Every weight that could clog the story must be thrown away, and it should run with the swiftness of the actions. At such times it would be a waste of good material to introduce beautiful descriptions or wise comments upon life. Such things would be skipped by the reader. Everything must clear the way for the story. The reverse of what has been said about rapidity of movement will answer the second question. Slowness of movement is secured by introducing long descriptions, analyses of character, and information concerning the customs of the time. This could not be better illustrated than in Irving's A Legend of Sleepy Hollow, where the story loiters leisurely along through scenery and cus- toms, until the reader has almost forgotten what the tale is about. Sentences become long and involved; dependent clauses are numerous; connective words and phrases are very frequent. Needless details may be introduced until almost nothing is being done. Then the story is tedious because it has no movement. MOVEMENT IN A STORY 97 In one of Maupassant's stories the opening paragraphs have sentences twenty-one words long, but a paragraph where the action is intense has an average of five and one-half words to the sentence. Poe's Gold Bug changes from thirty-eight words in a sentence in the slow parts to twenty-one words in a sentence where the action is swift. Very closely connected with this ratio of the number of words to the rapidity of movement is another fact. Strip the sentences as you may, the verbs will still remain. Verbs and words derived from verbs are the words that most certainly denote action. As words of other classes are taken out, the ratio of verbs to other words remaining will grow larger; and an in- creased ratio of verbs will mark passages in which the movement is more rapid. In his essays Stevenson uses a verb to eight words, while in the story of the fight in the round house he uses a verb to every five and a half words. Longfellow's The Notary of Perigueux starts with a verb to nine words, and at the climax has a verb to five words. These figures mean that the sentences are shortened; adjectives, adverbs, phrases, connectives disappear. Everything not absolutely necessary is dis- carded in order to express rapid movement. No one should think, however, that by eliminating all dependent clauses, cutting away all unnecessary mat- ters, and putting in a verb to every four words, he can gain intensity of expression. These are only; accom- panying circumstances. Climaxes are in the thought. V^hen the thought moves rapidly, when things are being done with a rush, when the climax of the story has been reached, then a writer will find that he can approach most nearly the movement of the action by using these means. 08 FORMS OF DISCOURSE EXERCISE 1. Find five short stories; count the words in the slow and rapid passages, and verify the statements made in this section about (a) the length of sentences and (6) the ratio of verbs to other words. 2. Select a subject that will give you a chance for a vivid passage — a runaway, a fire, an accident, the game three minutes before the end. Get thoroughly into the spirit of it, so that you cannot help giving life to the story, and then, in writing it, give special atten- tion to movement. SOME SUGGESTIONS 1. The number of characters should be small. Young writers are not able to handle a large number of char- acters. There is, however, a stronger reason for this than its difficulty. No readers, whether young or old, like to be compelled to remember a large number of characters. It is work. Bleak House has discouraged many readers with its host of people, and some of them must remain entire strangers to even the lovers of Dickens. Such a scattering of attention is unfavorable to a story. To centre the attention upon a few, and to hold it there, increases the intensity of a narrative. Short-story writers in France, like Daudet and Mau- passant, and the best of English-speaking short-story- tellers, like Kipling, Davis, and Henry, find few char- acters all that are necessary; and they gain a keener interest by concentrating the attention upon these few. 2. The time of the action should be short. If all the incidents chosen are crowded into a short period of time, the story will be closely knit together, and the action will be more rapid. A reader does not like to know that five years have elapsed between one event SOME SUGGESTIONS 99 and the next, even though the story-teller does not at- tempt to fill up these years with matter of little con- sequence to the narrative. One exception should be made to this rule. In stories in which the purpose is to portray a change of character, a long time is necessary; for the transformation is not usually the result of a day's experience, but a gradual process through years of little changes. Ernest in The Great Stone Face and Silas Marner require years to mature. In general, however, the time covered by a story should be short. 3. The plot should be sunple. This does not mean that the plot should be evident. No one is satisfied if he knows just how the story will turn out. There are, however, so many conditions in a story, that empha- sis on one or subordination of another may bring about something quite unexpected, though perfectly natural. Complicated plots have had their day; simple plots are now the fashion. They are as natural as life, and quite as puzzling. In Davis's Gallagher, there is nothing complicated; one thing follows another in a perfectly natural way; yet there are many questions in the read- er's mind as to how the little rascal will turn out, and whether he will accomplish his mission. A story that by its frank simplicity takes the reader into its confi- dence, and brings him to a conclusion that is so natural that it should have been foreseen long before the end has a good plot. The conclusion of a story must be natu- ral — the result of causes at work in the story. It must be a surprise that should have been expected. If it can- not be accounted for by the agents at work in the story, the construction is faulty. A story with a simple, natu- ral plot, containing but few characters, and covering only a short period of time, has three elements of suc- cess. 100 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 4. Paragraphs in narration should not be long. The tendency just now is to write short paragraphs. This is not saying that every sentence or every four lines on a page should make a paragraph. There is a principle underlying a paragraph, as there is a principle under- lying a sentence. A sentence is the complete expression of a thought; a paragraph is the complete discussion of a topic. A group of words may be so short that it is not a complete sentence; and a group of words that looks like a sentence may be in reality two or three sentences unhappily combined in one. In this respect, paragraphs are like sentences. Some persons like to write bright- looking paragraphs; and so they make them so short that they are not paragraphs at all. Others are care- less and string the sentences along like the straggling phrases attached to a sentence. To avoid these mistakes, use your outline, and make a paragraph for each topic you have planned. If one of the topics can be sub- divided into smaller topics, generally it should be; and then more than one paragraph should be written upon such a division of the outline. It certainly would be well to subdivide if a paragraph is likely to be more than one hundred and fifty words long. It has already been stated in the discussion of punctua- tion of quotations that, in reporting a conversation, a writer should make a new paragraph whenever the speaker changes. This is in accord with our idea of a paragraph; for this group of words is one person's com- plete answer, his discussion of one topic. It is, then, a paragraph; and it should be set off by indentation of the first line, the same as any other paragraph. Such para- graphs will usually be short — sometimes but part of a line. But, however short the paragraph may be, the new paragraph should represent the new speaker. y J >. ' » > ' SOME SUGGESTIONS- -' ' >' ■'"> = Hoi 5. Use live words. After a story has been arranged in the most effective order; after the paragraphs have been written so that each sets out a distinct incident; after the sentences have been so formed that the em- phasis falls upon the right idea; there is still left the final touch, which is given by a happy choice of words. In writing, this comes last, and should be the result of careful re-reading of the effort. The purpose of this reading should be to present the story in the most vivid language possible. In composition, no time can be better spent than that which is employed in studying words. Scientists tell us that no two grains of sand are exactly alike; and neither are any two words exactly alike in meaning. The man who knows the little differences in the signification of words, so that he uses them cor- rectly, is an artist in language. In narration the words that need special attention are those denoting action. These are primarily verbs and their derivatives — participles, gerunds, and infinitives. Yet not verbs alone are responsible for the vividness of narration; many nouns, adjectives, and adverbs assist in expressing varieties in action. The foUo^dng para- graph from Stevenson's The Black Arrow exhibits the value of care in the choice of words : — But presently the little troop began again to move forward, and came next to a very open, heathy portion of the way, where but a single tongue of forest ran down to join the road. They were but just abreast of this, when an arrow shone flying. One of the men threw up his arms, his horse reared, and both fell and struggled together in a mass. Even from where the boys lay they could hear the rumour of the men's voices crying out; they could see the startled horses prancing, and, presently, as the troop began to recover from their first surprise, one fellow beginning to dismount. A second arrow from somewhat farther off glanced in a wide arch; a second lOS FARMS' .OF DISCOURSE rider bit the dust. The man who was dismounting lost hold upon the rein, and his horse fled galloping, and dragged him by the foot along the road, bumping from stone to stone, and battered by the fleeing hoofs. The four who still kept the sad- dle instantly broke and scattered; one wheeled and rode, shrieking to the ferry; the other three, with loose rein and fly- ing raiment, came galloping up the road from Tunstall. From every clump they passed an arrow sped. Soon a horse fell, but the rider found his feet and continued to pursue his comrades till a second shot despatched him. Another man fell; then another horse; out of the whole troop there was but one fellow left, and he on foot; only, in different directions, the noise of the galloping of the three riderless horses was dying fast in the distance.^ The next paragraph is from Foe's Fall of the House of Usher: — No sooner had these syllables passed my lips, than I be- came aware of a distinct, hollow, metallic, and clangorous, yet apparently muflfled, reverberation. Completely unnerved, I leaped to my feet; but the measured, rocking movement of Usher was undisturbed. I rushed to the chair in which he sat. His eyes were bent fixedly before him, and throughout his whole countenance there reigned a stony rigidity. But, as I placed my hand upon his shoulder, there came a strong shudder over his whole person; a sickly smile quivered about his lips; and I saw that he spoke in a low, hurried, and gibber- ing murmur, as if unconscious of my presence. Bending closely over him, I at length drank in the hideous import of his words. Now note the deadening effect of the dull words that have been substituted for the vivid words used by Foe : — No sooner had I said these words, than I became aware of a clear, empty, hard, and noisy, yet apparently deadened echo. Completely unnerved, I stood up; but the measured, rocking movement of Usher was undisturbed. I went to the chair on which he sat. His eyes looked straight before him, and throughout his whole countenance there came a fixed expression. But, as I placed my hand upon his shoulder, there came a strong shudder over his whole person; a sickly » Copyright, 1888, by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permisBion of the Publiahen. SOME SUGGESTIONS 103 smile appeared about his lips; and I saw that he spoke in a low, quick, and indistinct tone, as if unconscious of my pre- sence. Bending closely over him, I at length drank in the un- pleasant meaning of his words. If you would have your writing fascinating, pictur- esque, stirring, and spirited, spend time in the choice of words. Choose live words, specific words, words that have " go " in them. It should be remembered that everything cannot be learned at once. The study of the whole composition is the main thing just now. Select the main incident; choose other incidents to be consistent with it; start out at once, giving the conditions of the story; proceed now fast, now slow, as the thought demands, arriving at a conclusion that might have been expected — the result of forces at work in the story. SUBJECTS FOR NARRATION 1. An Act of Heroism. 2. My Experience in Making a Garden. S. A Case of Discipline. 4. The Time Teacher Forgot. 5. Mother Knew Best. 6. An Unexpected Vacation. 7. When Father Was a Little Boy. 8. Big Sister's First Beau. 9. The Accident at the Switch. 10. WTien Made His Famous Start (applicable to some aeronautic feat). 11. My First Swim. 12. A Night on the Bread Line. 13. When Won the Cup. 14. A Coastwise Trip on the . 15. My Experience in Gathering News (a reporter's first effort at story-gathering). 16. Watching the Steeple Climber. 17. Our Trip to Grandmother's. 18. A Day with the Lighthouse Keeper. 104 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 19. That Dinner I Cooked. 20. It Happened on a Street-Car. 21. The Cup Slipped, or When the Joke Turned. 22. A Day on My Wheel. 23. A Mix-up on the Telephone. 24. All on Account of Being Late. 25. Getting Mother Interested. 26. Overheard on the Telephone. 27. Ichabod Crane Visits a Modern School. 28. Miss Cynthy Returns from the City. 29. Unexpected Callers. 30. The Day after Sister's Wedding. 31. The Schoolroom Clock. 32. Preparing for Company. 33. Getting to School on Time under DiflBculties. 34. Little Mary Entertains the Caller with the Family Album. 35. Following the Organ Grinder. 36. Rip Van Winkle in a Department Store (in a suffragette meeting, at an air-ship contest, in a crowded city street, or the like). 37. Benjamin Franklin Views the Modem Adaptations of Electricity. 38. Darius Green and Wilbur Wright. 39. A Game of Marbles. 40. A Mother Mouse and Her Young Ones. 41. The Coming Circus. 42. A Story-Book Character and I Take Lunch Together. 43. "Stumping" Him to Do it. 44. Two Little Girls and a Bag of Candy. 45. Studying the Latin Lesson Together. 46. The New Teacher is Discussed. 47. Playing "Come to See." 48. Some Birds Discuss the Arrival of the Aeroplane. 49. Getting Acquainted. 50. Two Girls Parting. 51. The Bargain Counter. 52. Undressing at the Swimming Hole. 53. The Birthday Party. 54. When Johnny Watered the Elephant. 55. Talking over the Aeroplane Meet. 56. At Lunch-time. 67. Sounds from the Woodshed. CHAPTER III FORMS OF DISCOURSE (Continued) DESCRIPTION Description has been defined as the form of Hterature that presents a picture by means of language. In the preceding chapter it has been pointed out that the se- quence of language is well adapted to detail the sequence of action in a narrative. For the purpose of presenting a picture, language has serious drawbacks; the picture has to be shown in pieces. The difficulties are much the same as would be experienced if dissected maps and animals, used for children's amusement, were to be put together in the mind. It would not be easy to con- ceive the whole map of the United States from blocks each containing a small part of it, taken one at a time from a box. Yet this closely resembles the method that language forces us to adopt in presenting a picture. Each phrase is like one of the blocks, and each introduces a new element into the picture; and then, from these phrases, the reader must construct the whole picture. This means not alone that he shall remember them all, but that he must often rearrange them. For example, a description by Ruskin begins, *' Nine years old." At once each reader sees the image of a little boy or girl, whichever it is that brightens his own home. One reader thinks of a boy, rather tall for his age, with dark hair and brown eyes. But the very next phrase makes him rearrange his whole picture; for it reads, " neither tall nor short for her age." Now he knows that it is a girl. 106 FORMS OF DISCOURSE and that she is of medium height. Later on he learns that her eyes are " deep blue "; her lips " perfectly lovely in profile "; and so, one after another, new details are added to this picture. Many times in the course of a description, the reader makes up a new picture; he is continually reconstructing. Any one that will observe his own mind while reading a new description can prove to himself that the picture is arranged and rearranged many times. And this is due to the method by which it is presented. Language can present only a phrase at a time, — a fragment, not a whole, — and so language must fail in the instantaneous presentation of a com- plete picture. The painter or the sculptor, who, upon canvas or in stone, flashes the whole picture before us at the same instant of time, has great advantages over the worker in words. In the former arts there is no need for recon- struction of the previous images, no need of piecing to- gether a number of fragments. Without any danger of mistakes, which will have to be corrected later, the spec- tator can take in the whole picture at once — the fine drawing, the harmonious coloring, the artistic grouping, the complete and beautiful picture. It is because pictures are the surest and quickest means of presenting objects to the mind, that books, especially text-books, and magazines are more and more profusely illustrated. Few magazines can claim popularity to-day that do not use illustrations wherever possible; few text-books in science or history sell unless they contain pictures. And this is because all persons get the idea accurately and quickly from a picture. Whatever may be the disadvantages of language, there are some advantages. Who could paint this from Haw- thorne? — DESCRIPTION 107 Soon the smoke ascended among the trees, impregnated with a savory incense, not heavy, dull, and surfeiting, like the steam of cookery indoors, but sprightly and piquant. The smell of our feast was akin to the woodland odors with which it mingled. Or this from Lowell? — Under the yaller pines I house. When sunshine makes 'em all sweet-scented. An' hear among their furry boughs The haskin west-wind purr contented. While 'way o'erhead, ez sweet an' low Ez distant bells thet ring for meetin. The wedged wil' geese their bugles blow. Further an' further South retreatin'. Or who could cut this in marble? — O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die. For now the noonday quiet holds the hill: The grasshopper is silent in the grass: The lizard, with his shadow on the stone. Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead. The purple flower droops: the golden bee Is lily-cradled: I alone awake. My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love. My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim. And I am all aweary of my life. Tennyson. The painter cannot put sounds upon a canvas, nor can the sculptor carve from marble an odor or a taste. We use other senses besides sight in detecting some qualities of objects. As Lowell says in The Vision of Sir Launfal, " We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing " a great number of beautiful things. Moreover, language suggests hidden ideas that the other arts of expression cannot so well do. The follow- ing " Song " by Lowell has in it suggestions that a pic- ture could not easily present. 108 FORMS OF DISCOURSE Violet! sweet violet! Thine eyes are full of tears; Are they wet Even yet With the thought of other years? Or with gladness are they full. For the night so beautiful. And longing for those far-off spheres? Thy little heart, that hath with love Grown colored like the sky above. On which thou lookest ever, — Can it know All the woe Of hope for what returneth never. All the sorrow and the longing To these hearts of ours belonging? ENUMERATIVE AND SUGGESTIVE DESCRIPTION Objects may be described in two ways, according to the purpose for which the description is written. If the purpose is to give definite information, so that the object described may be recognized by the description of it, a writer would use the enumerative method. On the other hand, if the purpose is to make the reader appreciate the striking features of an object, a writer would adopt the suggestive method. In the former method, many details are told; in the latter, the description is as for- tunate in what it omits as in what it includes. Had an architect drawn up the specifications for a house de- scribed in Barnahy Rudge he would have included every detail; but after reading all those pages of care- ful enumeration, a person would know less of how the house really looked than after these few lines by Dickens : — It was a modest building, not very straight, not large, not tall; not bold-faced, with great staring windows, but a shy. ENUMERATIVE DESCRIPTION 109 blinking house, with a conical roof going up into a peak over its garret window of four small panes of glass, like a cocked hat on the head of an elderly gentleman with one eye. Enumerative description. Enumerative description makes one element of as much importance as another; no special feature is made primary by the omission or the subdual of other qualities. It has value in giving exact details of objects, as if for construction, or for recog- nizing them as belonging to some definite class. It is used to give information or instruction. Much that is to be found in guide-books and text-books is enumera- tive description. The following is a description of the front of Chartres cathedral, by Augustus Hare; and it is simply an un- interesting enumeration of details : — The cathedral, perhaps the most beautiful in existence, is a Latin cross. Its west fagade has a triple portal, above which are three windows, surmounted by a splendid rose of the thir- teenth century, an open balustrade, a gallery with sixteen statues of kings, and a gable with a statue of the Virgin between angels, and, above all, Christ in benediction. The lower sculptures are twelfth century, the upper thirteenth and fourteenth century. The greater part of the seven hundred and nineteen statues and statuettes of the portals refer to the life of Christ. Those in the tympanum and vaulting of the right portal are in honour of the Virgin. The vaulting of the left portal has the signs of the zodiac and an allegorical representation of the twelve months. The sculptured name of "Rogerus" is probably that of the architect. EXERCISE 1. Write an enumerative description of one of the following objects. It will make the description better if the details are arranged in some definite order. 1. A bird-house, so that a boy could build one. 2. A shirt-waist or a plate of "fudge," so that a girl could make one like it. 110 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 3. A lost dog or a stray calf, so that the finder could return it to the owner. 4. An escaped criminal, so that the police could arrest him. 2. Draw a plan of your room; and then write a de- scription so that it will be plain where each article of furniture sits. Suggestive description. Suggestive description — the aim of which is not information, but the reproduc- tion of a picture — is the kind most employed in litera- ture. To present the best picture, not all the details should be given. The mind cannot carry a great num- ber; and, what is worse, it cannot arrange them. Nor is there any need for a detailed enumeration. A room has walls, floor, and ceiling; a man generally has ears, arms, and feet. These things may be taken for granted. It is not the qualities that are common to a class that describe an object; it is the quality that is different, that is individual, that takes the object out of a general class. These short descriptions are all of the suggestive type. In each of them the effect has been produced by the use of a few well-selected details, and by the exclu- sion of many things that might have been included. The details omitted are as effective as those included. 1. The parson was a little, meagre, black-looking man, with a grizzled wig that was too wide and stood off from each ear; so that his head seemed to have shrunk away within it, like a dried filbert in its shell. He wore a rusty coat, with great skirts and pockets that would have held the church Bible and prayer-book; and his small legs seemed still smaller from being planted in large shoes decorated with enormous buckles. — Irving. 2. It was only ten o'clock. The dull roar of the traffic which converged all day upon London Bridge had died away now to a mere confused murmur. It was raining heavily, and the gas shone dimly through the streaked and dripping ENUMERATIVE DESCRIPTION 111 glass, throwing little circles upon the glistening cobble- stones. The air was full of sounds of the rain, the thin swish of its fall, the heavier drip from the eaves, and the swirl and gurgle down the two steep gutters and through the sewer grating. — Conan Doyle. The following is a description by Newman, in which the two methods have been combined in the most ar- tistic manner. In this picture of ** bright and beautiful Athens," down as far as the sentence beginning, " But what he would not think of," there is simply an enumera- tion of features that a commercial agent might see; the rest is what the artistic soul of a lover of beauty found there. One is enumeration; the other a gloriously sug- gestive picture. A confined triangle, perhaps fifty miles its greatest length, and thirty its greatest breadth; two elevated rocky barriers, meeting at an angle; three prominent mountains, commanding the plain, — Parnes, Pentelicus, and Hymettus; an unsatis- factory soil; some streams, not always full; — such is about the report which the agent of a London company would have made of Attica. He would report that the climate was mild; the hills were limestone; there was plenty of good marble; more pasture land than at first survey might have been ex- pected, sufficient certainly for sheep and goats; fisheries pro- ductive; silver mines once, but long since worked out; figs fair; oil first-rate; olives in profusion. But what he would not think of noting down, was, that that olive-tree was so choice in nature and so noble in shape that it excited a religious veneration; and that it took so kindly to the light soil, as to expand into woods upon the open plain, and to climb up and fringe the hills. He would not think of writing word to his em- ployers, how that clear air, of which I have spoken, brought out, yet blended and subdued, the colors on the marble, till they had a softness and harmony, for all their richness, which in a picture looks exaggerated, yet is after all within the truth. He would not tell, how that same delicate and brilliant at- mosphere freshened up the pale olive, till the olive forgot its monotony, and its cheek glowed like the arbutus or beech of 112 FORMS OF DISCOURSE the Umbrian hills. He would say nothing of the thyme and the thousand fragrant herbs which carpeted Hymettus; he would hear nothing of the hum of its bees; nor take account of the rare flavor of its honey, since Gozo and Minorca were sufficient for the English demand. He would look over the ^gean from the height he had ascended; he would follow with his eyes the chain of islands, which, starting from the Sunian headland, seemed to offer the fabled divinities of Attica, when they would visit their Ionian cousins, a sort of viaduct thereto across the sea: but that fancy would not occur to him, nor any admiration of the dark violet billows with their white edges down below; nor of those graceful, fan-like jets of silver upon the rocks, which slowly rise aloft like water spirits from the deep, then shiver, and break, and spread, and shroud them- selves, and disappear in a soft mist of foam; nor of the gentle, incessant heaving and panting of the whole liquid plain; nor of the long waves, keeping steady time, like a line of soldiery as they resound upon the hollow shore, — he would not deign to notice that restless living element at all except to bless his stars that he was not upon it. Nor the distinct details, nor the refined coloring, nor the graceful outline and roseate golden hue of the jutting crags, nor the bold shadows cast from Otus or Laurium by the declining sun; — our agent of a mercantile firm would not value these matters even at a low figure. Rather, we must turn for the sympathy we seek to yon pilgrim student, come from a semi-barbarous land to that small corner of the earth, as to a shrine, where he might take his fill of gazing on those emblems and coruscations of invisible unoriginate perfection. It was the stranger from a remote province, from Britain or from Mauritania, who in a scene so different from that of his chilly, woody swamps, or of his fiery, choking sands, learned at once what a real University must be, by coming to understand the sort of country which was its suitable home. It must now be evident to all that good description depends largely on accurate observation. A selection fre- quently quoted, but none the less valuable because often seen, is in point here. It is the last word on the value of observation. ENUMERATIVE DESCRIPTION 113 Talent is long patience. It is a question of regarding what- ever one desires to express long enough and with attention close enough to discover a side which no one has seen and which has been expressed by nobody. In everything there is something of the unexplored, because we are accustomed to use our eyes only with the thought of what has already been said concerning the thing we see. The smallest thing has in it a grain of the unknown. Discover it. In order to describe a fire that flames or a tree in the plain, we must remain face to face with that fire or that tree until for us they no longer resemble any other tree or any other fire. This is the way to become original. Having, moreover, impressed upon me the fact that there are not in the whole world two grains of sand, two insects, two hands, or two noses absolutely alike, he forced me to describe a being or an object in such a manner as to individu- alize it clearly, to distinguish it from all other objects of the same kind. "When you pass," he said to me, "a grocer seated in his doorway, a concierge smoking his pipe, a row of cabs, show me this grocer and this concierge, their attitude, all their physical appearance; suggest by the skill of your image all their moral nature, so that I shall not confound them with any other grocer or any other concierge; make me see, by a single word, wherein a cab-horse diflFers from the fifty others that follow or precede him." . . . Whatever may be the thing which one wishes to say, there is but one word for ex- pressing it; only one verb to animate it, but one adjective to qualify it. It is essential to search for this verb, for this adjective, until they are discovered, and never to be satis- fied with anything else. — Maupassant. EXERCISE 1. Observe very carefully some common object that you wish to describe. Be sure that you see something in this that you had not noticed before. Tell about it. Do not try to write a long description; just bring out clearly this one thing. Your description might begin in one of these ways: — 1. The one thing that attracted my attention to this dog 114 FORMS OF DISCOURSE (cat, horse, bird, rabbit) was . . . Instead of the usual . . . , I saw there . . . 2. How different our baby is from most babies! 3. It is a fine old oak tree; and I never see it without think- ing of a . . . There is something about this tree that seems different. . . . 2. Take your note-book and pencil and sit down for a half-hour or longer to study some person. It may be the baby when he is having his bath, or when he is eat- ing his early supper, or when he is taking his first steps in learning to walk. Do not try to get him in all three situations — one is enough for a picture. Take down notes of everything he does, and especially how he looks as he does it. Watch the expressions on his face, the way he uses his hands and feet. Other good subjects to study are: — 1. Father reading the evening paper. 2. Father carving the meat at dinner. 3. Mother mending. 4. Mother pouring tea. 5. Big sistei* before the mirror. 6. Sister reading an interesting book. \ 7. Brother putting on a new tie. 8. Brother studying a diflScult lesson. Make this preparation several days before you are to give your oral description in class. Then select from your notes the details that will help you to show to others the person as you saw him. After arranging your details, you may write a word or two suggesting each detail on a small card, to refer to as you recite, if you like. Now form carefully in your mind the sentences that you are going to use, so as not to be at a loss what to say when you are called upon. It is a good plan to write and commit to memory the sentences for the beginning SELECTION OF MATERIAL 115 and the ending, so that you will keep the central thought prominent. SELECTION OF MATERIAL The point of view. With the most careful observation, a writer gets into his own mind the picture he wishes to present to another; and with this necessary step taken, he is ready to begin the work of communicating the picture that he sees. To make others see what is in his mind is not always easy. The first thing to be considered is the point of view. The point of view is the position an author assumes in describing an object. The physical point of view. The point of view may mean the physical position a person takes — the place where he stands while looking at an object. The physi- cal point of view is perfectly clear in the following: — 1. The window of my chamber looked out upon what in summer would have been a beautiful landscape. There was a sloping lawn, a fine stream winding at the foot of it, and a tract of park beyond, with noble clumps of trees, and herds of deer. At a distance was a neat hamlet, with the smoke from the cottage-chimneys hanging over it; and a church with its dark spire in strong relief against the clear, cold sky. — Irving. 2. I had prepared myself for a sensation as we rose from the sandy heath at Dusseldorf. I had imagined that the bal- loon ascent would feel like a rush skywards in a lift of tremendous velocity. Instead, we reached a height of 500 feet so steadily and gently that if I had not been lean- ing out of the window of the car, I could not have be- lieved we had left the earth. How comfortable it was! We lay back in our wicker chairs. A plate of caviare sandwiches stood on the window ledge beside each of us. The surface of the water in our glasses was unrippled. Fascinated by the wonder of our 116 FORMS OF DISCOURSE position, we gazed down upon the quaint little toy world a thousand feet below. It was as if we saw it from another planet. How neat and tidy it looked ! The roads were so straight; the gardens so charming with their geometrical displays of color. And the people! What curious mani- kins! Little black things with a white dot at one end for their upturned faces. See how they run, with curious, awkward, jerky movements of their legs and arms, stum- bling often over obstacles that are too infinitesimal for us Olympians even to see. — Correspondent to London TimeSy July, 1910. The mental point of view. The point of view may be the author's mental attitude, or position, regarding the object he is describing. And this feeling toward an object is the result of some dominating quality in the thing described. The following descriptions indicate clearly the mental point of view toward the object described. In the first, the observer retains throughout the descrip- tion his feeling of pleasure in the sight of the " lovely stream "; the second is pervaded by a metallic hardness, which continues to the last sentence; the last breathes a spirit of sadness. A more lovely stream than this, for a mile above its junction with the Concord, has never been found on earth, — nowhere, indeed, except to lave the interior regions of a poet's imagina- tion. It is sheltered from the breeze by woods and a hillside; so that elsewhere there might be a hurricane, and here scarcely a ripple across the shaded water. The current lingers along so gently that the mere force of the boatman's will seems suf- ficient to propel his craft against it. It comes flowing softly through the midmost privacy and deepest heart of a wood which whispers it to be quiet; while the stream whispers back again from its sedgy borders, as if river and wood were hush- ing one another to sleep. The river sleeps along its course and dreams of the sky and of the clustering foliage, amid which fall showers of broken sunlight, imparting specks of vivid cheerfulness, in contrast with the quiet depth of the prevailing tint. — Hawthorne. SELECTION OF MATERIAL 117 It was Miss Murdstone who was arrived, and a gloomy-look- ing lady she was; dark, like her brother, whom she greatly resembled in face and voice; and with very heavy eyebrows, nearly meeting over her large nose, as if, being disabled by the wrongs of her sex from wearing whiskers, she had carried them to that account. She brought with her two uncompromising hard black boxes, with her initials in the lids in hard brass nails. When she paid the coachman she took her money out of a hard steel purse, and she kept the purse in a very jail of a bag, which hung upon her arm by a heavy chain, and shut up like a bite. I had never, at that time, seen such a metallic lady altogether as Miss Murdstone was. — Dickens. The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year. Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay. And from the wood-top calls the crow, through all the gloomy day. Brtant. Selection, from the physical point. The point of view has much the same importance in description as the main incident has in narration. In large degree it tells what to include and what to exclude. When a writer has taken his point of view, he must stay there, and tell not a thing more than he can see from that point. It would hardly be possible for a man, telling only so much as he saw while gazing from Eiffel Tower into the streets be- low, to say both that the people looked like Lilliputians and that their hands were dirty. To one lying on the bank of a stream, it does not look like " a silver thread running through the landscape.'* Things do not look the same when they are near as when at a distance. This fact has been recognized more fully by the modern school of painting than ever before in art. Verboeckhoven painted sheep in a marvelous way: the drawing is per- fect, giving the animal to the life. Still, no matter how 118 FORMS OF DISCOURSE far away the artist was standing, there are the same marvelously painted tufts of wool, showing almost the individual fibers. No artist at twenty rods could see them. The new school gives only what actually can be seen. Its first law is that each " shall draw the thing as he sees it." Make no additions to what you can ac- tually see because, as a result of experience, you know that there are some things not yet mentioned in your description; the hands may be dirty, but the man on the tower cannot see the dirt. Neither make an addi- tion simply because it sounds well: the " silver thread running through the landscape " is beautiful; but, un- fortunately, it is not always true. Not only does distance cut out details from a picture; the fact that man sees in a straight line and not around a corner eliminates some features. In describing a house, remember that, as you stand across the street from it, you cannot see the back porch, neither can you see the shrubbery in the back yard. A writer would not be justi- fied in speaking of a man's necktie, if the man he was describing were walking in front of him. In enumerative description the inside of a closed box may be told of; a man may be turned around, as it were; but, to present a picture, only one side should be described, just as it would be shown in a photograph. Any addition to what can actually be known from the point of view assumed by the author is a fault and a source of confusion. Choose your point of view; stay there; and tell only what is seen from that point. It has been said that the point of view should not be changed. This requires one modification. It may be changed if the reader is kept informed of the changes. Suppose that a person wished to describe an interior. He would, of course, be unable to see the whole of it SELECTION OF MATERIAL 119 from any one point of view. And so, as he passed from room to room in his description, he should inform his reader of his change of position. Then the description, though a unit, is a combination of several descriptions; just as the house is one, though made of different rooms. This kind of description is very common in books of travel, in which the author tells what he sees in passing. The thing to be remembered in writing it is to inform the reader where the author is when he writes the dif- ferent parts of the description — to give the several points of view. The point of view, whether fixed or moving, should be indicated. Either it should be clearly stated, or it should be suggested by some phrase in the description. In the many examples quoted in this chapter, it would be well to see what it is that gives the point of view. The following sentences are from The Old Manse^ a long description of a quiet house that has since become one of the shrines of Concord. Hawthorne announces his first point of view in the opening sentence. Then one point of view follows another, as the description ad- vances. There can be no mistake here; the reader knows every move the author makes. Between two tall gateposts of rough-hewn stone (the gate itself having fallen from its hinges at some unknown epoch) we beheld the gray front of the old parsonage terminating the vista of an avenue of black-ash trees. From the gate, the reader is led along this avenue to " the rear of the house,'* where there was " the most delightful little nook of a study that ever offered its snug seclusion to a scholar." In two paragraphs, this study is described. Through its window, Hawthorne tells us, a clergyman who long ago dwelt in the manse saw the opening of the deadly struggle between two nations. 120 FORMS OF DISCOURSE The next paragraph begins with — Perhaps the reader . . . will choose to take a nearer view of the memorable spot. We stand now on the river's brink. Then follow four pages about the battle and the battle- field, so fascinating to Hawthorne that, at the end of them, he exclaims : — The Old Manse! We had almost forgotten it, but will re- turn thither through the orchard. Next come three pages about the orchard and the gar- den. Then, fearing that the reader may despair of ** finding his way back into the Old Manse,'* he remarks on the way that — in agreeable weather it is the truest hospitality to keep him out-of-doors. I never grew quite acquainted with my habita- tion till a long spell of sulky rain had confined me beneath its roof. And here follows the longest part of this beautiful description. Throughout the whole, every point of view has been carefully noted ; as it should be in any descrip- tion that has a moving point of view. EXERCISE Choose one of the following subjects, and write upon it as suggested : — 1. You have just moved into a new house (real or imaginary), and your best friend has come to visit you for the first time. Show him about through the different rooms to which you are pleased to take him — the living-room, the dining-room, a peep into the kitchen, upstairs to the bedrooms and to your own cozy room last. Describe your own room more fully than the others. Keep your reader informed each time you make a change from room to room. Give a brief picture of each room as you visit it, and be sure to have some one idea dominate each. SELECTION OF MATERIAL 121 You might show, for example, the hospitable look the living-room has, the pleasing harmony of the decorations of the dining-room, the conveniences and neatness of the kitchen, the daintiness and comfort of the bedrooms, and your feeling toward your own delightful room. Don't be afraid to admire your home, nor to show how much you appreciate its beauty and comfort. 2. Describe your walk to school. You pass many pleasant, interesting places on the way. Stop long enough at each to note some of its attractive features. Each time, as you come to a place you wish to describe, state where you are. Do not attempt too many descriptions. Three or four short pictures that are different are better than a number alike. 3. Perhaps you have been fortunate enough to have taken a stage-coach trip through the wonderful Yellowstone Park, or through the beautiful Yosemite Valley. Describe what you saw at some of the different stopping places. State where you were each time. 4. You may have taken a trolley-ride or an automobile excursion through lovely farm-country or quaint, old- fashioned villages. Describe the unusual things you saw. 6. Or you may have made a trip on a railroad train, when your eye noted many charming bits of scenery, and strange sights on station platforms. 6. Possibly you ran away from home. Things looked dif- ferent from the way they had appeared. Tell how they appeared as you left home. Selection, from the mental point. Closely connected with the physical point of view is the mood of the writer, — the attitude he takes toward the thing he is describing, — which we have already called the mental point of view. Not everything should be told that the author could know from his physical position, but only those things that serve his purpose. An artist puts into his picture those objects that help him to express his mood; the composer uses only the musical phrases that 122 FORMS OF DISCOURSE will express his feeling. The introduction of a dance into the midst of a solemn funeral march would be ruin- ous; as would be the introduction of a starving beggar into Guido Reni's beautiful picture of Aurora. With exactly the same purpose in mind, Hawthorne, in the description from the The Old Manse (page 116), has re- tained only those features that suggest quiet and peace, Newman's mercantile gentleman (page 111) thinks only of the things that make money — the soil, the streams, the climate, the limestone, the fisheries, and the silver mines. How different is his picture from that of *' yon pilgrim student " who sees in Athens a shrine! In the following verses from King Lear, in which Edgar tells his blinded father how high the cliff is, Shake- speare included only those details that would impress upon the blind man the fearful and dizzy height: — How fearful And dizzy 't is to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire, — dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark Diminish 'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge That on th' unnumbered idle pebbles chafes. Cannot be heard so high. — I'll look no more. Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. The following is from Mary Johnston's The Long Roll: The First Brigade was dispirited and critical, and as it had not yet learned to control its mood, it marched as a dispirited and critical person would be apt to march in the brazen middle of a July day. Every spring and rivulet, every blackberry bush and apple tree upon the road gathered recruits. The halts for SELECTION OF MATERIAL 123 no purpose were interminable, the perpetual Close wp, close up, men ! of the exasperated officers as unavailing as the droning in the heat of the burnished June-bugs. . . . The July dust rose from the pike in clouds, hot, choking, thick as the rain of ash from a volcano. It lay heavy upon coat, cap, haversack, and knapsack, upon the muskets and upon the colours, drooping in the heat, drooping at the idea of turning back upon Patterson and going off, Heaven and Old Joe knew where! Tramp, tramp over the hot pike, sullenly southward, hot without and hot within! The knapsack was heavy, the haversack was heavy, the musket was heavy. Sweat ran down from under cap or felt hat, and made grimy trenches down cheek and chin. The men had too thick under- wear. They carried overcoat and blanket — it was hot, hot, and every pound like ten! To keep — to throw away ? To keep — to throw away ? The beat of feet kept time to that pressing question. ... Through the enormous dust cloud that the army raised the trees of the valley appeared as brown smudges against an ochreish sky. The farther hills and the mountains were not seen at all. The stone fences on either side the road, the blackberry bushes, the elder, the occasional apple or cherry tree were all but dun lines and blotches. Oh, hot, hot! A man swung his arm and a rolled overcoat landed in the middle of a briar patch. A second followed suit — a third, a fourth. A great, rawboned fellow from some mountain clearing jerked at the lacing of his shoes and in a moment was marching bare- foot, the offending leather swinging from his arm. To right and left he found imitators. A corpulent man, a merchant used to a big chair set in the shady front of a village store, suffered greatly, pale about the lips, and with his breath coming in wheezing gasps. His overcoat went first, then his roll of blanket. Finally he gazed a moment, sorrowfully enough, at his knapsack, then dropped it, too, quietly, in a fence corner. Close upy men — close up ! Selection, for the reader. There is one more step in the exclusion of details. This considers what is due the reader. Stevenson says in one of his essays that a description that lasts longer than two minutes is never attempted in conversation. The listener cannot hold 124 FORMS OF DISCOURSE the details enumerated. The clearest statement of this comes from Jules Lemattre in a criticism upon some de- scriptions by Emile Zola, which, the critic remarks, are praised by persons who have never read them. He says: It has been one of the greatest literary blunders of the time to suppose that an enumeration of parts is a picture, to think that forever placing details side by side, however picturesque they may be, is able in the end to make a picture, to give us any conception of the vast spectacles in the physical universe. . . . It is necessary that all the details coexist in our memory just as the parts of a painting coexist under our eye. This becomes next to impossible if the description of one definite object last over fifteen minutes of reading. The longer it is, the more obscure it becomes. The individual features fade away in proportion to the number which are presented; and for this reason one might say that we cannot see the forest for the trees. Every description which is over fifty lines ceases to be clear to a mind of ordinary vigor. After that there is only a succession of fragmentary pictures, which fatigues and over- whelms the reader. Summary. These, then, are the principles that guide in the choice of materials for description : — First, the point of view, whether fixed or moving, must be indicated to the reader; it should be retained throughout the description, or else every change should be clearly announced. By a careful regard for it, the writer will be guided to the exclusion of details that could not be observed, and to the inclusion of such details as can be seen and are essential. Second, the writer will keep out matters that do not contribute to his purpose, and will select only those de- tails that assist in producing the desired impression. Third, the limitations of the reader's powers advise a writer to be brief: five hundred words should be the outside; one hundred are enough for most descriptions. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 125 These principles will give to the whole that unity of material and of structure which is the first requisite of an effective description. EXERCISE Choose one of the following subjects for composi- tion: — 1. Describe your own room as it looks to you when you re- turn to it after a bitter disappointment. Does it bring you comfort? or does it add yet more to the torture you are suffering? Assume either one or the other attitude, and then select the objects that nfake a sad or a glad picture. 2. Or, describe your own dog, which you love much. How will you make the reader see how attractive he is? S. Or, give the class a vivid picture of a neighbor's dog, just after he has killed your pet rabbit or pet bird. 4. Or, complete this: What a miserable little wretch he was! 5. Or this: How beautiful she looked on that night of her first party ! ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL The beginning. After we have looked at any object long enough to be able to write about it, one feature comes to assume an importance that sets it far above all others. When a person looks long at a coward, he may neglect all his other qualities, because almost the only thing he can see is his cringing cowardice; and this characteristic he would make stand out in a description. Or, his attention may be attracted by an opposite char- acter — some strong, self-reliant hero, whose very pre- sence inspires serenest trust; then the description would neglect other qualities to make the brave and heroic prominent. In the same way, a traveler, once, standing for the first time in St. Peter's, was most impressed by its immensity; but Hawthorne, gazing on the same scene, saw only its gorgeous coloring. Proportions, immensity, 126 FORMS OF DISCOURSE and sacredness were as nothing to Hawthorne; he could think of nothing but a great "jewel casket.'* So his description emphasizes the harmonious briUiancy of the colors and the splendor of the mosaics. This central idea in description should be clear, and then it should dominate the whole picture. In the case of buildings, or of other things material, the dominating impression is generally one of form or of size; if the color is striking, it may be of color. Of persons, the strongest impression is some quality of character that shows itself either in the face or in the pose of the man. From this central idea all the details grow, and to this primary impression they all contribute. Generally this dominating idea in description is an- nounced at or near the beginning. It is an idea of impor- tance; and it must occupy a position of importance. In a story we found that something interesting must stand at the beginning; and in a description something of im- portance must stand at the beginning. This something of importance is in most cases the dominating idea. The paragraphs below, taken from David Copperfield, show how careful Dickens was to have his readers know what was the dominating idea in anything he described. Two distinct impressions are left by the description of the house: one of its bulging appearance; the other, of its spotlessness. In the second paragraph there is but one idea — that of a cadaverous, skeleton man. At length we stopped before a very old house bulging out over the road; a house with long, low lattice-windows bulging out still farther, and beams with carved heads on the ends bulging out too, so that I fancied the whole house was leaning forward, trying to see who was passing on the narrow pave- ment below. It was quite spotless in its cleanliness. The old- fashioned brass knocker on the low arched door, ornamented with carved garlands of fruit and flowers, twinkled like a star; ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 127 the two stone steps descending to the door were as white as if they had been covered with fair linen; and all the angles and corners, and carvings and mouldings, and quaint little panes of glass, and quainter little windows, though as old as the hills, were as pure as any snow that ever fell upon the hills. When the pony-chaise stopped at the door, and my eyes were intent upon the house, I saw a cadaverous face appear at a small window on the ground floor (in a little round tower that formed one side of the house) , and quickly disappear. The low arched door then opened, and the face came out. It was quite as cadaverous as it had looked in the window, though in the grain of it there was that tinge of red which is sometimes to be observed in the skins of red-haired people. It belonged to a red-haired person — a youth of fifteen, as I take it now, but looking much older — whose hair was cropped as close as the closest stubble; who had hardly any eyebrows, and no eyelashes, and eyes of a red-brown, so unsheltered and un- shaded that I remember wondering how he went to sleep. He was high-shouldered and bony; dressed in decent black, with a white wisp of a neck cloth; buttoned up to the throat; and had a long, lank, skeleton hand, which particularly attracted my attention, as he stood at the pony's head, rubbing his chin with it, and looking up at us in the chaise. The following paragraphs are good illustrations of this same principle : — 1. He was brindled and gray like Rubislaw granite; his hair short, hard, and close, like a lion's; his body thick-set, like a little bull, — a sort of compressed Hercules of a dog. He must have been ninety pounds weight at the least; he had a large blunt head; his muzzle black as night, his mouth blacker than any night, a tooth or two — being all he had — gleaming out of his jaws of darkness. His head was scarred with the records of old wounds, a sort of series of fields of battle all over it; one eye out, one ear cropped as close as was Archbishop Leighton's father's. — Dr. John Brown. 2. On entering the amphitheatre, new objects of wonder presented themselves. On a level spot in the centre was a company of odd-looking personages playing at ninepins. 128 FORMS OF DISCOURSE They were dressed in quaint, outlandish fashion; some wore short doublets, others jerkins, with long knives in their belts, and most of them had enormous breeches, of similar style with that of the guide's. Their visages, too, were peculiar: one had a large beard, broad face, and small piggish eyes; the face of another seemed to consist en- tirely of nose, and was surmounted by a white sugar-loaf hat, set off with a red cock's tail. They all had beards, of various shapes and colors. There was one who seemed to be the commander. He was a stout old gentleman, with a weather-beaten countenance; he wore a laced doublet, broad belt and hanger, high crowned hat and feather, red stockings, and high-heeled shoes, with red roses in them. The whole group reminded Rip of the figures in an old Flemish painting, in the parlor of Dominie Van Schaick, the village parson. — Irving. In some descriptions the dominating idea is the feel- ing aroused by the object. It may be horror, as in a description of a haimted house or of a murderer; it may be the feeling of love, which would run through a de- scription of the old home or of a sainted mother. The emotion occasioned is generally mentioned or suggested at once, and the details that called forth the feeling are given afterward. 1. I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a bird's, both quick and little; and there was a dimness came before my eyes which I continually rubbed away, and which continually returned. As for hope, I had none; but only a darkness of despair and sort of anger against all the world that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was able. I tried to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like a man running, would not suffer me to think upon the words; and my chief wish was to have the thing begin and be done w ith it. — Ste- venson.^ 2. During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively X Bj permission of the Publishers, Charles Scribner's Sons. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 129 low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horse- back, through a singularly dreary tract of country, and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was — but, with the first glimpse of the build- ing, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the scene before me — upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain — upon the bleak walls — upon the vacant eye-like windows — upon a few rank sedges — and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees — with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveler upon opium — the bitter lapse into every-day life — the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart — an unre- deemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. . . . It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrange- ment of the particulars of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to anni- hilate its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in unruffled lustre by the dwelling, and gazed down — but with a shudder even more thrilling than before — upon the remodeled and in- verted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree- stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows. — Poe. S. She had made an effort to put on something like mourning for her son; and nothing could be more touching than this struggle between pious affection and utter poverty : a black ribbon or so, a faded black handkerchief, and one or two more such humble attempts to express by outward signs that grief which passes show. — Irving. 4. It was by the sea that I lived, in a town that was unlovely enough were it not for its glorious neighbor. And who cares for the town when one can sit on the beach at the 180 FORMS OF DISCOURSE headland, and look out over the huge, blue bay, and the yellow scimitar that curves before it. I loved it when its great face was freckled with the fishing boats, and I loved it when the big ships went past, far out, a little hillock of white and no hull, with topsails curved like a bodice, so stately and demure. But most of all I loved it when no trace of man marred the majesty of Nature, and when the sun-bursts slanted down on it from between the drift- ing rain-clouds. Then I have seen the farther edge draped in the gauze of the driving rain, with its thin grey shading under the slow clouds, while my headland was golden, and the sun gleamed upon the breakers and struck deep through the green waves beyond, showing up the purple patches where the beds of seaweed are lying. Such a morning as that, with the wind in his hair and the spray on his lips, and the cry of the eddying gulls in his ear, may send a man back braced afresh to the dead, drab weariness of practice. — Conan Doyle. 6. When Agrippina has breakfasted, and washed, and sits in the sunlight blinking at me with aflFectionate contempt, I feel soothed by her absolute and unqualified enjoyment. I know how full my day will be of things that I don't want particularly to do, and that are not particularly worth doing; but for her, time and the world hold only this brief moment of contentment. Slowly the eyes close, gently the little body is relaxed. Oh, you who strive to relieve your overwrought nerves, and cultivate power through repose, watch the exquisite languor of a drowsy cat, and despair of imitating such perfect and restful grace! There is a gradual yielding of every muscle to the soft persuasiveness of slumber; the flexible frame is curved in tender lines, the head nestles lower, the paws are tucked out of sight; no convulsive throb or start betrays a rebellious alertness; only a faint quiver of an uncon- scious satisfaction, a faint heaving of the tawny sides, a faint gleam of the half-shut yellow eyes, and Agrippina is asleep. I look at her for one wistful moment, and then turn resolutely to my work. It were ignoble to wish my- self in her place, and yet how charming to be able to settle down to a nap, sans peur and sans reproche, at ten o'clock in the morning. — Agnes Repplieb. AERANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 181 Sometimes when the description is to be long, or when the object will lend itself to such a treatment, a definite, easily understood shape or form may be suggested at the beginning. Notice Newman's first sentence de- scribing Attica : — A confined triangle, perhaps fifty miles its greatest length, and thirty its greatest breadth. The following is from Loma Doone : — She stood at the head of a deep green valley, carved from out the mountains in a perfect oval, with a fence of sheer rock standing round it, eighty feet or a hundred high, from whose brink black wooded hills swept up to the sky line. By her side a little river glided out from underground with a soft, dark babble, unaware of daylight; then growing brighter, lapsed away, and fell into the valley. — Blackmore. The next is the first paragraph of a long description of the battlefield of Waterloo by Victor Hugo: — Those who would get a clear idea of the battle of Waterloo have only to lay down upon the ground in their mind a capi- tal letter A. The left stroke of the A is the road to Nivelles, the right stroke is the road from Genappe, the cross of the A is the sunken road from Ohain to Braine I'AUeud. The top of the A is Mont Saint Jean, Wellington is there; the left- hand lower point is Hougomont, Reille is there with Jerome Bonaparte; the right-hand lower point is La Belle Alliance, Napoleon is there. A little below the point where the cross of the A meets and cuts the right stroke, is La Haie Sainte. At the middle of this cross is the precise point where the final battle word was spoken. There the line is placed, the invol- untary symbol of the supreme heroism of the Imperial Guard. The triangle contained at the top of the A, between the two strokes and the cross, is the plateau of Mont Saint Jean. The struggle for this plateau was the whole of the battle. — Vic- tor Hugo. EXERCISE Below are four themes for a description. You will note that they are all upon the same subject. Will you 132 FORMS OF DISCOURSE write upon two of them, trying to bring out in sharp contrast the dominating ideas of the two descriptions? OUR NEIGHBOR'S PUPPY 1. He was such a cunning, saucy-looking little fellow, with that dark patch encircling one eye; its mate gleamed like a shiny, black marble in its setting of white. 2. Of all snippy, snarly dogs, Pompey was the worst. To begin with, his color was a hideous shade of yellow, and . . . 8. His name just suited him. Hero, he was called. One could tell the kind of dog he was going to be — big, faithful, and kind. 4. was such a knowing little dog. His small owner de- clared there was nothing he did not understand, and claimed that he could do almost everything but talk. The end. The end of a description is equally as im- portant as the opening. In most descriptions, whether short or long, the most important detail^ the detail that emphasizes most the dominating idea, stands at the end. If the description is very short, it should have no intro- ductory sentence announcing the dominating idea; there should be just a few well-selected details given, and arranged so that the most suggestive stand at the end. If the description is long, the end may be a very important detail ; or it may be a repetition of the open- ing statement in a new and more striking form. If the description is one portraying change or movement, the end will be the climax of the movement, the result of the change. 1. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, and showed the workman, with an unfinished shoe upon his lap, pausing in his labor. His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at his feet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly cut, but not very long, a hollow face. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 133 and exceedingly bright eyes. The hoUowness and thinness of his face would have caused them to look large, under his yet dark eyebrows and his confused white hair, though they had been really otherwise; but they were naturally large, and looked unnaturally so. His yellow rags of shirt lay open at the throat and showed his body to be withered and worn. He, and his old canvas frock, and his loose stockings, and all his poor tatters of clothes, had, in a long seclusion from direct light and air, faded down to such a dull uniformity of parchment-yellow, that it would have been hard to say which was which. — Dickens. 2. Carstairs went out to sketch Broadway at One Hundred and Fifty-ninth Street, where it is more of a country road than anything else, and his hands almost froze while he was getting down the black lines of the bare trees, and the deep, irregular ruts in the road, where the mud showed through the snow. He intended to put a yellow sky be- hind this, and a house with smoke coming out of the chimney, and with red light shining through the window, and call it Winter. — Richard Harding Davis. 3. Shaking off from my spirit what must have been a dream, I scanned more narrowly the real aspect of the building. Its principal feature seemed to be that of an excessive an- tiquity. The discoloration of ages had been great. Minute fungi overspread the whole exterior, hanging in a fine tangled web-work from the eaves. Yet all this was apart from any extraordinary dilapidation. No portion of the masonry had fallen; and there appeared to be a wild in- consistency between its still perfect adaptation of parts and the crumbling condition of the individual stones. In this there was much that reminded me of the specious totality of old wood-work, which has rotted for long years in some neglected vault, with no disturbance from the breath of the external air. Beyond this indication of extensive decay, however, the fabric gave little token of instability. Perhaps the eye of a scrutinizing observer might have discovered a barely perceptible fissure, which, extending from the roof of the building in front, made its way down the wall in a zigzag direction, until it became lost in the sullen waters of the tarn. — Foe. IM FORMS OF DISCOURSE In this last every detail emphasizes the "excessive antiquity" of the house; and on reading the story there is no question of the importance of the "barely per- ceptible fissure." Thereby hangs the tale. 4. The reader is desired to mark this Monk. A personable man of seven and forty, stout made, stands erect as a pillar; with bushy eyebrows, the eyes of him beaming onto you in a really strange way; his face massive, grave, with a very eminent nose; his head almost bald, its auburn remnants of hair and the copious ruddy beard getting slightly streaked with gray. This is Brother Samson; a man worth looking at. — Carlyle. 5. He inclined his head in a stately, old-world fashion, and seated himself upon the bench. Seeing that he had no wish to speak, I was silent also, but I could not help watching him out of the corners of my eyes, for he was such a wonderful survival of the early half of the century, with his low-crowned, curly-brimmed hat, his black satin tie which fastened with a buckle at the back, and, above all, his large, fleshy, clean-shaven face shot with its mesh of wrinkles. Those eyes, ere they had grown dim, had looked out from the box-seat of mail-coaches, and had seen the knots of navvies as they toiled on the brown em- bankments. Those lips had smiled over the first numbers of "Pickwick," and had gossiped of the promising young man who wrote them. The face itself was a seventy-year almanac, and every seam an entry upon it where pub- lic as well as private sorrow left its trace. That pucker on the forehead stood for the Mutiny, perhaps; that line of care for the Crimean winter, it may be; and that last little sheaf of wrinkles, as my fancy hoped, for the death of Gordon. And so, as I dreamed in my foolish way, the old gentleman with the shining stock was gone, and it was seventy years of a great nation's life that took shape before me on the headland in the morning. — Conan Doyle. , The two following are descriptions of dawn, of change; they have marked climaxes. The first is by Edward ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 135 Everett, the second by Stevenson. The similarity in choice of words and in feeling is remarkable. 1. Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. As we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more perceptible; the intense blue of the sky began to soften; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest; the sister beams of the Pleiades soon melted together; but the bright constellations of west and north remained unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into the glories of dawn. The blue sky now turned more softly gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes; the east began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky; the whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pour- ing down from above in one great ocean of radiance, till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flash of purple blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy teardrops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds, the everlasting gates of morning were thrown wide open, and the lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man, began his state. 2. At last she began to be aware of a wonderful revolution, compared to which the fire of Mittwalden Palace was but a crack and flash of a percussion cap. The counten- ance with which the pines regarded her began insensibly to change; the grass, too, short as it was, and the whole winding staircase of the brook's course, began to wear a solemn freshness of appearance. And this slow trans- figuration reached her heart, and played upon it, and transpierced it with a serious thrill. She looked all about; the whole face of nature looked back, brimful of mean- ing, finger on lip, leaking its glad secret. She looked up. Heaven was almost emptied of stars. Such as still lin- gered shone with a changed and waning brightness, and began to faint in their stations. And the color of the sky itself was most wonderful; or the rich blue of the night had now melted and softened and brightened; and there 136 FORMS OF DISCOURSE had succeeded a hue that has no name, and that is never seen but as the herald of the morning. *'0h!" she cried, joy catching at her voice, "Oh! it is the dawn!" . . . Soon she had struggled to a certain hilltop, and saw far before her the silent inflooding of the day. Out of the East it welled and whitened; the darkness trembled into light; and the stars were extinguished like the street-lamps of a human city. The whiteness brightened into silver; the silver warmed into gold, and the gold kindled into pure and living fire; and the face of the East was barred with elemental scarlet. The day drew its first long breath, steady and chill; and for leagues around the woods sighed and shivered. And then at one bound the sun floated up. . . . The day was come, plain and garish; and up the steep and solitary eastern heaven, the sun, victorious over his competitors, continued slowly and royally to mount.^ Proportion. One thing further should be said regard- ing arrangement, and this concerns Mass. Not every- thing can stand first or last; some important details must be placed in the midst of a description. These par- ticulars are not of equal importance. To give to an important detail the emphasis it deserves, the writer must call into use another principle of composition. This is termed Proportion. By Proportion of treatment is meant, that an important matter shall receive lengthy treatment, while unimportant details shall be passed over with a word, or altogether omitted. To each detail in a paragraph shall be given a length of discussion proportionate to its importance. Proportion in the length of treatment is a guide to the relative importance of the matters introduced into the description. In the description of the House of Usher, position emphasizes the barely preceptible fissure; Proportion singles out the crumbling condition of the individual stones, and makes this detail more emphatic than either 1 By pennisBion of the Publishers, Charles Scribner'i Sons. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 137 the discoloration or the fungi. In Newman's descrip- tion, the olive-tree, the brilliant atmosphere, the thyme, the bees, all add to the charms of bright and beautiful Athens; but, most of all, the iEgean, with its chain of islands, its dark violet billows, its jets of silver, the heav- ing and panting of its long waves. It is the restless, living element that fascinates and enraptures, and it is to this that he devotes, proportionately, the greatest space and the final position. Position and Proportion are the means of emphasis in a paragraph of description. Order of details. Having settled the way in which emphasis is given to the important details in a descrip- tion, the next matter for consideration is the order in which details should be arranged. If the parts of a de- scription are to be coherent, to hold together, they must be arranged in the order in which they would naturally be perceived. What first arrests the attention should be mentioned first; and the other details should follow as they are naturally seen. This is the general law. The usual way of observing and describing a building is from foundation to turret stone; for this is the order in which the eye takes in a building. A landscape may be described by beginning with what is near and extend- ing the view; this is common. Sometimes the very op- posite plan is pursued; or, one may begin on either hand and advance toward the other. Of a person near by, the face is the first thing observed; for it is there that character can be best discovered. Afterward, details of clothing follow as they would naturally be noticed. If a person be at a distance, his pose and carriage are about all that can be seen; as he approaches, other de- tails are mentioned as they come into view. To arrange details in the order in which they are naturally observed will result in placing together the 138 FORMS OF DISCOURSE details that are close together in the objects. Jumping about in a description is a source of confusion. How entirely it may ruin a paragraph can be estimated by the effect upon this single sentence: " He was tall, with feet that might have served for shovels, narrow should- ers, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, long arms and legs, and his whole frame most loosely hung together." This rearrangement makes but a disjointed and feeble impression; and the reason is this: an order in which no person ever observed a man has been sub- stituted for the commonest order — from head to foot. Arrange details so that the parts that are near together shall be associated in the description, and proceed in the order in which the details are naturally observed. The following is by Irving; he is describing the stage- coachman: — He has commonly a broad, full face, curiously mottled with red, as if the blood had been forced by hard feeding into every vessel of the skin; he is swelled into jolly dimensions by frequent potations of malt liquors, and his bulk is still further increased by a multiplicity of coats, in which he is buried like a cauliflower, the upper one reaching to his heels. He wears a broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat; a huge roll of colored handkerchief about his neck, knowingly knotted and tucked in at the bosom; and has in summer-time a large bouquet of flowers in his buttonhole; the present, most prob- ably, of some enamored country lass. His waistcoat is com- monly of some bright color, striped, and his small-clothes extend far below the knees, to meet a pair of jockey-boots which reach about half way up his legs. Below are given a number of paragraphs illustrating the order in which descriptions are generally written: — 1. Presently I saw a low gray house standing on a grassy bank close to the road. The door was half off its hinges, and the window-sills seemed to touch the ground. In one window an old man sat, and the eave above, which was ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 139 half way down from rot and oldness, shaded him. One window of the upper story was minus a pane. Several shingles were missing from the roof, and the whole house seemed to totter. — Sarah Orne Jewett. 2. At the head of this dilapidated wharf . . . stands a spacious edifice of brick. From the loftiest point of its roof, floats or droops, in breeze or calm, the banner of the Republic. ... Its front is ornamented by a portico of half a dozen wooden pillars, supporting a balcony, beneath which a flight of wide granite steps descends towards the street. — Hawthorne. 3. Have you ever seen a horse-yacht.? Sometimes it is called a scow; but that sounds common. Sometimes it is called a house-boat; but that is too English. What does it profit a man to have a whole dictionary full of language at his service, unless he can invent a new and suggestive name for his friend's pleasure-craft.? The foundation of the horse-yacht . . . is a flat-bottomed boat, some fifty feet long and ten feet wide, with a draft of about eight inches. The deck is open for fifteen feet aft of the place where the bow-sprit ought to be; behind that it is com- pletely covered by a house, cabin, cottage, or whatever you choose to call it, with straight sides and a peaked roof of a very early Gothic pattern. Looking in at the door, you see, first of all, two cots, one on either side of the pas- sage; then an open space with a dining- table, a stove, and some chairs; beyond that a pantry with shelves, and a great chest for provisions. A door at the back opens into the kitchen, and from that another door opens into a sleeping-room for the boatmen. A huge wooden tiller curves under the stern of the boat, and the helmsman stands upon the kitchen roof. Two canoes are floating behind, holding back, at the end of their long tow-rop)es, as if reluctant to follow so clumsy a leader. This is an accurate and duly attested description of the horse-yacht. If necessary it could be sworn to before a notary public. But I am perfectly sure that you might read this through without skipping a word, and if you had never seen the creature with your own eyes, you would have no idea how absurd it looks and how comfortable it is. — Van Dyke.* 1 Copyright, 18!)5, 1903, by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permiBdon of the Publiahen. 140 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 4. In his indecision he turned and surveyed the scene around. Not a soul was anywhere visible. The garden-path stretched downward from his feet, gleaming like the track of a snail; the roof of the little well (mostly dry), the well- cover, the top rail of the garden gate, were varnished with the same dull liquid glaze; while, far away in the vale, a faint whiteness of more than usual extent showed that the rivers were high in the meads. Beyond all this winked a few bleared lamplights through the beating drops — lights that denoted the situation of the county-town from which he had appeared to come. The absence of all notes of life in that direction seemed to clinch his intentions, and he knocked at the door. — Thomas Hardy. 6. Far oflF upon the distant sky-line, half hidden by the heave of the waves, was the low white fringe of cliffs which skirted England. Between him and them lay the broad, blue channel, seamed and flecked with flushing foam, for a sharp sea was running, and the few ships in sight were laboring heavily. Nigel's eyes traversed the wide-spreading view, rejoicing in the change from the gray wall of his cramped chamber. Finally they settled on a strange object at his feet. — CoNAN Doyle. 6. In marched the lawyer, whose well-brushed black coat, and well-powdered wig, together with his point ruflBes, brown silk stockings, highly varnished shoes, and gold buckles, exhibited the pains which the old gentleman had taken to prepare his person for the ladies' society. — Scott. 7. If you had seen John at this time you might have thought he was only a shabbily dressed country lad, and you never would have guessed what beautiful thoughts he some- times had as he went stubbing his toes along the dusty road, nor what a chivalrous little fellow he was. You would have seen a short boy, barefooted, with trousers at once too big and too short, held up perhaps by one sus- pender only, a checked cotton shirt, and a hat of braided palm-leaf, frayed at the edges, and bulged up in the crown. — Warner. ARRAJSTGEMENT OF MATERIAL 141 EXERCISE Let us imagine that we are to write on one of the following subjects. We have all seen one of the objects. If there is one near you, go look at it again in order to receive a fresh impression before you write. Then fol- low an outline somewhat like this : — THE DESERTED HOUSE a. An opening sentence in which the point of view and the dominant idea are given. b. The approach to the house; its ill-kept lawn and the neg- lected surroundings. c. The decayed steps; the sunken porch-floor. d. The half-fallen door; a glimpse within. (Remember, your point of view will not allow you to see much within the door.) e. The broken windows. (What do they suggest to you?) /. The old roof and chimneys. g. An ending sentence, re-stating the idea your picture is to convey. (Give the thought in different words from those of the opening sentence. Express the feeling the whole picture gives to you as you look at it.) A PLEASING LANDSCAPE a. State in the opening sentence what the central thought is, and from what point you view the picture. Let it be from your window, or from some hill, or from any ele- vated place where the eye can travel far and note different details. b. Objects in the foreground that help the dominant idea; as a stream half-hidden by willows, a road winding along, a meadow with grazing cattle, or a waving grain-field ready for harvest. C. Objects in the middle distance that help the dominant idea; as a white farm-house surrounded by its barns and orchards, the divisions of fields forming distinct values of color, a placid lake reflecting the glow of the sky. d. Objects in the distance that contribute to the dominant 142 FORMS OF DISCOURSE idea; as the haze on the horizon, the rays of the setting sun, the hght on the clouds, the colors of the sky. MY BABY SISTER (OR BROTHER) o. In an easy, natural way state the general impression you have of little sister in your first sentence. b. Her features, particularly the expression. (Do her eyes, her hair, her mouth show your idea? Choose any feature that does help to show your purpose and will make your reader see her as you do.) e. Her actions, especially the way she uses her head; her hands; or the way she walks or carries herself. d. Her little ways of doing things, or saying things. e. An ending sentence which repeats the central thought in other words than the opening sentence. In 1, let e be emphasized by proportion, and g by position. In 2, have b emphasized by proportion. In 3, let d be emphasized by position. PARAGRAPHS IN DESCRIPTION In the chapter on narration, it was laid down as a rule that a paragraph should be devoted to each topic in the story outline. As we have seen in the illustrations given, nearly all descriptions are of a single object, or of a group of objects making a single picture; and, for this reason, most descriptions are found making but a single paragraph. In the case of a moving point of view, however, the picture observed from each position will be one com- plete whole; and, unless the whole description is to be very short, each separate picture demands a paragraph for its portrayal. This is well illustrated in the Old Manse. Whenever the point of view is changed and a new picture is to be presented, there is the beginning of a new paragraph. PARAGRAPHS IN DESCRIPTION 143 The topic sentence. In narration and description, then, a group of sentences treating one single topic makes a paragraph. The topic of a paragraph is often definitely announced in a single sentence. The sentence that sets forth the topic of a paragraph is called the topic sentence. Because the writer usually wishes a reader to know at once what the paragraph is about, the topic sentence generally stands at or near the beginning. 1. Mr. Squeers's appearance was not prepossessing. He had but one eye, and the popular prejudice runs in favour of two. The eye he had was unquestionably useful, but de- cidedly not ornamental: being of a greenish-grey, and in shape resembling the fan-light of a street door. The blank side of his face was much wrinkled and puckered up, which gave him a very sinister appearance, especially when he smiled, at which times his expression bordered closely on the villainous. His hair was very flat and shiny, save at the ends, where it was brushed stiffly up from a low pro- truding forehead, which assorted well with his harsh voice and coarse manner. He was about two or three and fifty, and a trifle below the middle size; he wore a white neckerchief with long ends, and a suit of scholastic black; but his coat sleeves being a great deal too long, and his trousers a great deal too short, he appeared ill at ease in his clothes, and as if he were in a perpetual state of aston- ishment at finding himself so respectable. — Dickens. 2. The picture presented to his eye was not calculated to en- liven his mind. The old mansion stood out against the western sky, black and silent. One long, lurid pencil- stroke along a sky of slate was all that was left of day- light. No sign of life was apparent; no light at any window, unless it might have been on the side of the house hidden from view. No owls were on the chimneys, no dogs were in the yard. — George W. Cable.^ 3. There is nothing in which people differ more than in their powers of observation. Some are only half alive to what is going on around them. Others, again, are keenly alive : 1 Olfi Creole Day it, by George W. Cable. Copyright, 1S79, 1881, 1883, hv Charles Scribner'a Sons ; 190", by George W. Cable. By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons. 144 FORMS OF DISCOURSE their intelligence, their powers of recognition, are in full force in eye and ear at all times. They see and hear everything, whether it directly concerns them or not. They never pass unseen a familiar face in the street. They are never oblivious of any interesting feature or sound or object in the earth or sky about them. Their power of attention is always on the alert, not by conscious effort, but by natural habit and disposition. Their per- ceptive faculties may be said to be always on duty. — John Burroughs. 4. Your latest story came back, perhaps, this morning, ac- companied by its third rejection slip. In writing that stofy did you take the trouble to work it over for the third or fourth time? Did you erase and re-arrange the opening sentence endlessly until you knew all its possible varia- tions by heart? Did you wake up suddenly in the night with a happy idea that would just fit into page seventeen and could not wait until morning? — or did you, on the other hand, simply sit down quite comfortable one day, possessed only of pen, ink, and paper, and a good work- ing idea, and dash off your five thousand words at top speed while the heat that Thoreau speaks of was still in you? And, as you signed your name, did you say to yourself, "Well, I suppose some of this is a bit ragged, but it will have to go as it is"? If the second is the case, then your collection of rejection slips deserves to multi- ply. You may be a geniiLSy hut you are not a craftsman. — Frederic Taber Cooper. 5. It is of little use for me to tell you that Hetty's cheek was like a rose petal, that dimples played about her pouting lips, that her large dark eyes hid a soft roguishness under their long lashes, and that her curly hair, though all gathered back under her round cap while she was at work, stole back in dark delicate rings on her forehead and about her white, shell-like ears; it is of little use for me to say how lovely was the contour of her pink and white neckerchief tucked into her low, plum-colored stuff bodice, or how the linen butter-making apron, with its bib, seemed a thing to be imitated in silk by duchesses, since it fell in such charming lines, or how her brown stockings and PARAGRAPHS IN DESCRIPTION 145 thick-soled, buckled shoes lost all that clumsiness which they must certainly have had when empty of her foot and ankle; — of little use unless you have seen a woman who affected you as Hetty affected her beholders; for otherwise, though you might conjure up the image of a lovely woman, she would not in the least resemble that distracting, kitten- like maiden. — George Eliot. Not all paragraphs have topic sentences. Narrative paragraphs are generally without them, for they are un- necessary in a story. Descriptive paragraphs, if short, are frequently without them. But the fact that some paragraphs have not topic sentences does not mean that a paragraph is not a definite treatment of a single topic. Whether with or without a topic sentence, a paragraph must always discuss a single topic. Below are two paragraphs, one narrative and the other descriptive. Neither has a topic sentence; each surely discusses a single topic : — 1. Jean Valjean wept long. He shed hot tears, he wept bitterly, with more weakness than a woman, with more terror than a child. He beheld his life, and it seemed to him horrible; his soul, and it seemed to him frightful. There was, however, a softened light upon that life and upon that soul. It seemed to him that he was looking upon Satan by the light of Paradise. — Victor Hugo. 2. By his side, in white flannel shirt and trousers, straw hat, the captain's belt, and the untanned cricket shoes which all the eleven wear, sits a strapping figure near six feet high, with ruddy tanned face, curly brown hair and a laughing, dancing eye. He is leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, and dandling his favourite bat, with which he has made thirty or forty runs to-day, in his strong, brown hands. — Thomas Hughes. In description, there are three common ways of de- veloping a topic sentence into a paragraph : — The paragraph of details. First, a thing may be de- 146 FORMS OF DISCOURSE scribed by enumerating details about it. This is the com- monest way of teUing how an object looks. And it is also the usual method of telling how a thing happened. It is, then, the common method of paragraph develop- ment in narration and description. Below are two examples of paragraph development by the enumeration of details : — 1. Late in the evening the other soldiers were put into their box, and the people of the house went to bed. Now was the time for the toys to play; they amused themselves with paying visits, fighting battles, and giving balls. The tin soldiers rustled about in their box, for they wanted to join the games, but they could n't get the lid off. The nut-crack- ers turned somersaults, and the pencil scribbled nonsense on the slate. There was such a noise that the canary woke up and joined in, but his remarks were in verse. The only two who did not move were the tin soldier and the little dancer. She stood as stiff as ever on tiptoe with her arms spread out; he was equally firm on his one leg, and he did not take his eyes off her for a moment. — Hans Christian Andersen. 2. Sometimes upon those Carnival nights, she arrays her- self in the costume of the Albanian water-carriers; and nothing, one would think, could be prettier than the laced crimson jacket, and the strange head-gear with its trinkets, and the short skirts leaving to view as delicate an ankle as could be found in Rome. Upon another night, she glides into my little parlor, as we sit by the blaze, in a close, velvet bodice, and with a Swiss hat caught up by a looplet of silver, and adorned by a full-blown rose — no- thing, you think, could be prettier than this. Again, in one of her girlish freaks, she robes herself like a nun; and with the heavy black serge for dress and the funeral veil, — relieved only by the plain white ruflBe of her cap, — you wish she were always a nun. But the wish vanishes when you see her in pure white muslin, with a wreath of orange-blossoms about her forehead, and a single white rosebud in her bosom. — Ik Marvel. PARAGRAPHS IN DESCRIPTION 147 The paragraph of the obverse. Second, an object may be described by telling what it is noU or by what has been termed an obverse statement. The writer tells what is not perceived in the object; and by so doing makes even more emphatic the qualities that are perceived. Its value dep>ends upon the vivid contrasts it suggests. Notice, in the following, how the reader fancies at once a young man carelessly dressed, in sharp contrast with the faultlessly dressed man in the picture. Curtis is describ- ing ** you" as you enter the reception room, and says: — You are polished and cool, and have an irreproachable repose of manner. There are no improper wrinkles in your cravat; your shirt bosom does not bulge; the trousers are ac- curate about your admirable boot. But you look very stiff and brittle. This slight illustration shows the order in which the parts of such a description are generally arranged. First, there is a direct statement of what the appearance of the object is; next, a denial of what the appearance might be, but what it is not in reality; and last, a second asser- tion of what the appearance is. Sometimes the first direct statement is omitted, and there are only the ob- verse and the direct statement in sharp contrast. This method of obverse statement is often used with great effect. Notice the vivid pictures drawn by this method in the following paragraphs: — 1. The room in which the rector sat was not large — nor was it like the usual ministerial study. The circular walls 'were not filled with books, but with panes of clear glass, through which the light came with even glow. There was no sign of where the light came from; but only electricity could have given the white unsheathed light that filled the room. It fell on the man seated at the desk and touched the few and simple objects in the room with clear direct- ness. — Jennette Lee. 148 FORMS OF DISCOURSE In the following by Van Dyke, the effect of each is emphasized by teUing what is not to be heard, or seen : — 2. The woods are glistening as fresh and fair as if they had been new-created overnight. The water sparkles with merriment, and tiny waves are dancing and singing all along the shore. Scarlet berries of the mountain-ash hang around the lake, like a necklace of coral. A pair of king- fishers dart back and forth across the bay, in flashes of living blue. A black eagle swings silently around his circle, far up in the cloudless sky. The air is full of pleasant sounds, but there is no noise. The world is full of joyful life, but there is no crowd and no confusion. There is no factory chimney to darken the day with its smoke, no trolley-car to split the silence with its shriek and smite the indignant ear with the clanging of its impudent bell. No lumberman's axe has robbed the encircling forests of their glory of great trees. No fires have swept over the hills and left behind them the desolation of a bristly land- scape. All is fresh and sweet, calm and clear and bright.' S. But when we turned to the south and east, how wonderful and how different was the view ! Here was no wide-spread and smiling landscape with gleams of silver scattered through it, and soft blue haze resting upon its fading verge, but a wild land of mountains, stern, rugged, tumultuous, rising one beyond another like the waves of a stormy ocean, — Ossa piled upon Pelion, — Mclntyre's sharp peak, and the ragged crest of the Gothics, and, above all, Marcy's dome-like head, raised just far enough above the others to assert his royal right as monarch of thcAdiron- dacks. — Henry van Dyke.^ EXERCISE 1. Describe a hovel in a crowded part of a city; or one on the outskirts of a village. Do this first by the ordinary 1 Fish€rmnn''s Luck, by Henry van Dyke Copyright, 1899, 1905, by Charles Scribner's Sons. Bv permission of the Publishers. _ 2 Little Rivers, by Henry van Dyke. Copyright, 1895, 1903, by CharlcB Scribner's Sons, By permission of the Publishers. PARAGRAPHS IN DESCRIPTION 149 method of details. Then describe the same place by means of the obverse. The following sentences may help you to get started : — After the game I followed the hero to his home. Imagine my surprise on finding that the home of this unconquered champion was not so good as my own. It had not even the or- dinary comforts of a modern house. Go on with the details that one expects to find in a house of moderate comfort. Then close with a direct statement of what you really saw. This is really two descriptions set in contrast to heighten the effect. Re- member that you are outside the house. 2. Describe a person by contrasts. I had often read the wise and beautiful things had written; and I had fancied just how he must look! Complete your fancied picture of him; then follow it with the description of the real man, as you once saw him. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw him on the plat- form. Instead of , I saw . The paragraph of comparisons. In addition to the paragraph of details and the paragraph of the obverse, we have a third kind of paragraph used in description. This is the paragraph of comparisons. An object may sometimes be most easily described by telling what it looks like, or what it does not look like. It would be im- possible to give a clearer picture of Ichabod Crane than Irving has presented in the two comparisons in the fol- lowing paragraph : — The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves. 150 FORMS OF DISCOURSE feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock perched upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him strid- ing along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. A writer who uses this method must always bear in mind the fact that, in constructing a mental picture, each person does it with the images he already has in mind. Suppose that a pupil in California were asked to describe an orange to an Esquimau child. He might say that an orange was a spheroid (a word the child had never heard), about the size of an apple (a fruit he had never seen), and the color of a canvas by Turner (something he knew nothing about). This would be entirely worthless to a child of the frigid zone. Were he told that an orange grew on a tree, was about the size of a snowball, much the color of the flame of a candle, that the outside came off like the skin of a seal, and that the inside was good to eat, he would have a much better idea of this fruit. In the latter case, the images are those familiar to the Esquimau child. These images that lie in our minds, and from which we construct new pic- tures, are much like the blocks that a child builder re- arranges in many different forms; but the blocks them- selves do not change. From them the child may build a castle or a mill; the only difference is the difference in the arrangement. A reader does not create something new; all he does is to rearrange in his own mind images already familiar. Only in this way does he pass from the thing he knows to the new thing that he does not know. FIGURES OF SPEECH 151 The fact that all persons construct pictures of what they read from the images already in their minds warns writers and speakers against using images that their readers cannot easily understand. This beautiful line from The Vision of Sir Launfal, " quaint arabesques of ice-fern leaf," suggests to many a person no picture at all. Yet when he has looked up the words in a dic- tionary, and seen there the picture of an arabesque, he appreciates the beauty of the roof beneath which the little brook could house itself, winter-proof. Common images, definite images, are the ones that should ordi- narily be used in making comparisons. EXERCISE Select one of the following subjects for a description. In the paragraph make use of one or more compari- sons: — 1. One day I saw at a circus a prairie wolf; and it astonished me to see how much he looked like "Scottie." ^. How much a leopard resembles a cat! [In this description, give first the likenesses and then the diflFerences. After this has been worked out so that the picture is clear, close with a repetition of the topic, asserting in a different way the marked resemblance.] 8. Using comparisons, write for a child of the tropics a description of a coasting "bob." 4. Describe snow to a native of Egypt. 5. Describe glass to a Fiji Islander. 6. Describe a plow to a city boy; or a churn to a city girl. 7. Describe a trolley-car to a child that has never seen one. 8. Describe a diamond to a Greenlander. FIGURES OF SPEECH Comparisons may be used in description for another purpose than to present a picture; often they are used to make the picture more vivid. Irving accomplishes 152 FORMS OF DISCOURSE both ends by the use of comparisons in his sketch of Ichabod. We know from the first phrases how Ichabod's head looked; but when we read the words, " so that it looked like a weather-cock perched upon his spindle neck," the picture is most vivid. So also, when Irving says that he looked like ** some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield," he has heightened the effect of the picture by the striking comparison. In the following paragraph by Holmes, note the humorous effect produced by the unexpected comparisons: — I have just been to hear some music-pounding. It was a young woman, with as many white flounces round her as a planet has rings, that did it. She gave the music-stool a twirl or two, and fluffed down on it like a whirl of soap-suds in a hand-basin. Then she pushed up her cuffs as if she were going to fight for the champion's belt. Then she worked her wrists and her hands, to limber 'em, I suppose, and spread out her fingers till they looked as though they would pretty much cover the keyboard, from the growly end to the little squeaky one. Then those two hands of hers made a jump at the keys as if they were a couple of tigers coming down on a flock of black and white sheep, and the piano gave a great howl, as if its tail had been trod on. Lowell was filled with joy by the arrival of the dan- delions upon his lawn, and wrote, — "Then think I of deep shadows on the grass, . . . and of a sky above. Where one white cloud Hke a stray lamb doth move.** Longfellow, looking up into the wide sky at night, saw a new picture there and wrote, — "Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven Blossomed the lovely stars." Lowell did not mean that a cloud is really like a stray lamb; only this, that in one single respect a fluffy FIGURES OF SPEECH 158 cloud is like a soft white Iamb. Nor did Longfellow believe that the stars are really flowers. Yet how beau- tiful are the stars when we think of them as flowers blossoming in the infinite meadows of heaven! Such a use of language is called figurative; and such compari- sons are called figures of speech. Most of the common figures of speech are based upon comparison. Yet the objects compared must not be really alike, else there will be no figure of speech. It is not a figure of speech to say that a wolf is like a dog. That is a real resemblance. But to say that *' The As- syrian came down like a wolf on the fold " is a figure of speech. Here objects that are essentially unlike, the Assyrian soldier and the wolf, have one quality that is like. Their resemblance in this one point is asserted; and that assertion is a figure of speech. The two most common figures of speech are simile and metaphor. A simile is an expressed comparison between objects es- sentially different, but having some common quality. This likeness is usually expressed by the word like or as. A metaphor is an implied comparison between objects es- sentially different, but having some common quality. In a metaphor there is no word used to express the com- parison. EXERCISE The first paragraph below is a very simple compari- son. It would be well to analyze it and note the num- ber of likenesses that are mentioned. After you have studied this paragraph, select one from the subjects that follow it, and write a description by the use of 154 FORMS OF DISCOURSE comparisons. You will undoubtedly use figures of speech. I looked into our brooder and saw the many-colored, vel- vety chicks. There were tiny yellow ones with brown splotches, and plain yellow ones; there were sturdy white fellows, and black and brown. I was reminded at once of my blooming pansy bed; the softness and rich color were all there. And I had only to half shut my eyes, and I could imagine that the pansies had suddenly been given the power of motion and the gift of speech. 1. How changeable that April day was! The sun rose dimly behind a bank of threatening clouds; but the clouds soon vanished and there was clear, golden sunshine everywhere. Then, as if by magic, there were clouds again, and a sudden splash of rain; more sunshine and then more rain, until we did n't know what to expect next. Just like that April day are the moods of our baby. When he first awakes, he . . . a. sunshine smiles. b. clouds frowns, pouting face. c. rain tears. d. rainbow ^ laughter, joy, etc., as you think of like- nesses. 2. The flowers in our garden are like so many people. a. The roses b. The lilies c. The violets d. The sunflowers The great waves came beating upon the shore like the steady tramp of soldiers. a. The parallel lines of oncoming billows b. The regular beat and break upon the shore c. The receding waves A robin's nest filled with young ones is like a home I know, o. The cozy warm nest b. The hungry, clamoring brood c. The attentive, watchful old birds d. The fledglings leave the nest WORDS IN DESCRIPTION 155 WORDS IN DESCRIPTION Nouns and adjectives. The words that may most justly be called describing words are adjectives and nouns; and, of these, adjectives are the words most used in description. The rule that a wi-iter should never use two adjectives where one will do, and that he should use not even one if a noun can be found that com- pletely expresses the thought, is a good one to follow. In sketching, one certain stroke of the crayon is worth a hundred lines, each approaching the right one. In describing, one word, the only one, will tell the truth more vividly than ten that approach its significance. For it must be remembered that a description must be done quickly; every word that is used and does nothing is not only a waste of time, but is actually in the way. In a description every word must count. The picture may be brought out by comparison, epithet, personifica- tion, or what not; but whatever the method, the right word must do its part, and do it quickly. How much depends on a nice choice of words may be seen by a study of the selections already quoted; and especially by a careful reading of those by Stevensoa and Everett (pages 135 and 136). To show the use of adjectives and nouns in description, the following from Dickens is a good illustration: — Hunger was pushed out of the tall houses in the wretched clothing that hung upon poles and lines; Hunger was patched into them with straw and rag and wood and paper; Hunger was repeated in every fragment of the small modicum of fire- wood that the man sawed off; Hunger stared down from the smokeless chimneys, and stared up from the filthy street that had no offal, among its refuse, of anything to eat. Hunger was the inscription on the baker's shelves, written in every small loaf of his scanty stock of bad bread; at the sausage-shop, in every dead-dog preparation that was offered for sale. Hunger 156 FORMS OF DISCOURSE rattled its dry bones among the roasting chestnuts in the turned cylinder; Hunger was shred into atomies in every farthing porringer of husky chips of potato fried with some reluctant drops of oil. One third of the words in this paragraph are descriptive nouns and adjectives, none of which we wish to change. Verbs. Verbs also have great value in description. In the paragraph picturing the dawn, Stevenson has not neglected the verbs; " welled," ** whitened," " trem- bled," *' brightened," ** warmed," ** kindled," and so on through the paragraph. Try to change them, and it is apparent that something is lost by any substi- tution. Kaa, the python, ** pours himself along the ground." If he is angry, *' Baloo and Bagheera could see the big swallowing-muscles on either side of Kaa*s throat ripple and bulge.''* What makes a ** nice choice." Yet, in the choice of words, one may search for the unusual rather than for the truly picturesque. Stevenson at times seems to have done this. When he says that Modestine would feel a switch " more tenderly than my cane "; that he " must instantly maltreat this uncomplaining animal," meaning constantly; and at another place that he ** had to labor so consistently with " his stick that the sweat ran into his eyes, there is a suspicion of a desire for the sensational rather than the direct truth. On the other hand, the beginner finds himself using words that have lost their meaning through indiscriminate usage. "Aw- ful good," " awful pretty," and " awful sweet " mean something less than good, pretty, and sweet. " Lovely," " dear," " splendid," " unique," and a large number of good words have been much dulled by the ignorant use of babblers. Superlatives, and all words denoting comparison, should be used with stinginess. One can- WORDS EST DESCRIPTION 157 not afford to part with this kind of coin frequently; the cheaper coins should be used, else he will find an empty purse when need arises. Thackeray has this: ** Her voice was the sweetest, low song." How much better this: Her voice was a sweet, low song. All the rest of the world is shut out from this, while in the former the rest of the world is challenged by the comparison. Shakespeare was wiser when he made Lear say, — "Her voice was ever soft. Gentle, and low, — an excellent thing in woman." Avoid words that have lost their meaning by indis- criminate use; shun the sensational and the bizarre; but in all your expressions, whether in unadorned or in figurative language, choose the word that is quick and sure and vivid — the one word that exactly sug- gests the picture. EXERCISE 1. For the first exercise in the careful choice of words, select the three descriptions that you consider the best that you have written, and make a special study of them. Replace all the words that seem to you not to say just what you wanted to say, by words that are accurate and full of picturing power. Possibly you will make some additions to these descriptions, not so much increasing the number of details as emphasizing those already chosen. 2. Below is a description of Gallegher written by a master of English. This good and simple description is followed by another in which the aim has been to use exactly the same details, but to make the characteris* tics entirely contrary to the first. To do this requires a careful choice of words. After you have studied this 159 FORMS OF DISCOURSE carefully, write a second paragraph about the boys in the stage-coach, changing the central idea and giving especial attention to substitutes for the words in italics. la. Gallegher was something diflFerent from anything we had experienced before. Gallegher was short and broad in build, with a solid, muscular broadness, and not a fat and dumpy shortness. He wore perpetually on his face a happy and knowing smile, as if you and the world in general were not impressing him as seriously as you thought you were, and his eyes, which were very black and very bright, snapped intelligently at you like those of a little black and tan terrier. 16. Gallegher was something different from anything we had experienced before. Gallegher was tall and thin in build, with a lean, hungry thinness, and not a strong, well-de- veloped tallness. He wore perpetually on his face an ugly and foolish sneer, as if you and the world in general were not impressing him as seriously as you thought you were, and his eyes, which were very colorless and very dull, stared vacantly at you like those of a stuflFed ape in a museum. 2a. In the course of a December tour in Yorkshire, I rode for a long distance in one of the public coaches on the day preceding Christmas. I had three fine rosy-cheeked school-boys for my fellow-passengers inside, full of huxom health and manly spirity which I have observed in the children of this country. They were returning home for the holidays in high glee, and promising themselves a world of enjoyment. It was delightful to hear the gigantic plans of the little rogues, and the impracticable feats they were to perform during their six weeks' emancipation from the abhorred thraldom of book, birch, and pedagogue. They were full of anticipation of the meeting with the family and household, down to the very cat and dog, and of the joy they were to give their little sisters by the pre- sents with which their pockets were crammed; but the meeting to which they looked forward with the greatest impatience was with Bantam, which I found to be a pony. WORDS IN DESCRIPTION 159 and, according to their talk, possessed of more virtues than any steed since the days of Bucephalus. How he covld trot! how he could run! and then such leaps as he would take ! — there was not a hedge in the whole country that he could not clear. Changing the central thought: — 26. I had three rough, boisterous school-boys for my fellow- passengers inside, full of the daring impudence and mean lawlessness which I have observed in the children of this country. [Finish.] 3. Complete either of the next two paragraphs. Make the contrast between the two pictures very marked. 1. Last June my straw hat was new. How fresh and dainty it looked! The crisp ribbon-bows sat up with a pretty perkiness, as if they knew they were worth looking at. The roses glowed a soft pink against their delicate, green leaves and tender little tufts of chiffon. That hat was a thing of beauty, the delight of my heart. One day I was caught in a rain-shower with it on, and then — what a change ! No longer was it 2. My brother, Tom, presents a business-like appearance when he is writing a letter. He sprawls bent over the work at a small table in the library. His feet are planted squarely upon the floor, his rumpled hair stands on end, and his tongue wanders about, keeping motion with the strokes of the pen. Writing a letter is no easy task for Brother Tom; it is the intention of weeks, — yes, of months, put into execution. He writes laboriously for a line or two, and then, with pen aloft, surveys his effort with a criti- cal eye. The lines on his forehead show that he is in deep thought. But an hour later, when the letter is finished and Tom hears the whistle outside reminding him of the practice-game, he is quite another boy. There are no 4. Now choose one of the subjects in this list, and write both descriptions. Remember that the success of 160 FORMS OF DISCOURSE these exercises will depend almost entirely upon your discriminating choice of words. See the picture clearly, then find the one word that says just what you see/ 1. Our dog told not to follow. Our dog told he can go. 2. Our last days at Grammar School. Our first days at High School. 3. Wearing short trousers. Wearing long trousers. 4. I had lost my temper. I try to make amends. 5. The elm-tree in summer. The elm-tree in winter. 6. I start neat and clean to school. 1 trip and fall. 5. Below is given a list of supplementary subjects for description. They are good as suggestions. There are no subjects so good as the things that are right at home. In fact, to do well the thing that all are acquainted with displays true skill. Try to give to common things a dis- tinction that makes them unusual. Do not attempt a thing you have not seen. 1. The Departure of an Ocean Liner. 2. The Arrival of an Ocean Liner. 3. Six A.M. at the Market. 4. My College Brother's Room. 5. Young Lambs at Play. 6. A Country Dance. 7. The Dog Fight. 8. Fifteen Minutes at the "Quick Lunch." 9. The County Fair at . 10. Digging for Clams. 11. The Schoolhouse in Vacation. 12. Our Calf. 13. Mv Favorite Walk. 14. The Old Well. 15. A Town That Has Kept Its Individuality since Colonial Days. 16. Canoeing on the . 17. , the Pet of the Engine House [applicable to a horse, a dog, or a cat]. 18. The New Skates. WOBDS IN DESCRIPTION 161 19. My Baby Photograph. 20. Lunch-time at School. 21. The Oyster Fleet. 22. The City Street after a Rain. 23. In Front of the Village Tavern. 24. From the Fifth Story of a Burning Building. 25. Giving Baby His Bath. 26. That Pup. 27. Some People to Meet. 28. Smoke-clouds over a City. 29. The Lake in a Storm. 30. The Launching of the Battleship. 31. My Friend, the Longshoreman. 32. Helping Auntie Unpack Her Paris Trunk. 33. My First Pocketknife. 34. The Woods in Winter. 35. The Interior of a Blacksmith's Shop. 36. Birds I Know. 37. Watching the Immigrants Land. 38. Quarantined in a Side Street [applicable to a congested district in a large city]. 39. Gathering Apples in Autumn. 40. How I Feel when [choose one of the following] : — (1) Passing that dark alley. (2) Going through the woods alone at night. (3) Getting my hair cut. (4) Taking a cold bath. (5) Wearing a new garment to school. (6) Hearing the fire-engines go by at night. (7) First going barefooted in the spring. (8) Mother says, "Company for dinner, and you must wait." (9) Getting up early to go fishing. (10) Making a speech in public. (11) An unexpected vacation is announced. (12) Hearing a ghost story. (13) My favorite cousin surprises me with a visit. (14) I come home from school and find Mother and every one else gone. (15) I first sit down to our Christmas dinner. CHAPTER IV LETTER-WRITING PARTS OF A LETTER The most common use made of written language is in correspondence. Everybody in these days writes let- ters: some business, some society, some friendly. In no other kind of composition do conventional forms play so great a part. No one can be considered educated unless he knows the conventional forms of letter- writing, and has acquired the habit of using them correctly. These forms are not senseless; every one of them has a reason. All letters should contain six parts: — 1. The Heading. 2. The Address. S. The Salutation. 4. The Body. 5. The CompHmentary Close. 6. The Signature. The Heading. The Heading contains the name of the place at which the letter is written, and the date on which it is written. It is a necessary part of a letter be- cause it informs the reader where the writer was at the time of writing, and especially important because it tells the reader where to address his reply. In case the letter should go astray, it gives the necessary data by which the letter might be returned from the Dead Letter Office to the writer. When we know that 14,000 pieces of mail matter, worth $30,000, go astray every day because of insufficient address, we realize how nee- PARTS OF A LETTER 163 essary it is that every letter contain the address to which it may be returned. The Heading is placed in the upper right-hand corner of the sheet of paper, about an inch and a half from the top of the page. The first line begins about the middle of the page, and each line following begins a little to the right of the one above it. The first line of the Heading contains the names of the city and the state, and the second line contains the date. If the place is large enough to have a free delivery, then the first line contains the street number, the second the city and state, and the third the date. Sometimes the town is so small that it is advisable to include the county; if so, the place is generally named in the first line, the county and the state in the second, and the date in the third. In the case of printed letter heads, only the date needs to be written, all the other information being given in the printed matter. The parts of the Heading are separated from one another by commas; and all a,bbreviations are followed by periods. For the placing and punctuation of the Heading, see the form on page 166. The Address. The Address contains the name and the address of the person to whom the letter is written. This makes it possible for the Dead Letter OflSce to forward a letter if the superscription on the envelope should be omitted or incorrect. The Address is written at the left of the sheet, beginning one line lower than the last line of the Heading. The arrangement of lines is the same as the arrangement of the Heading, and the punctuation follows the same rule. For all letters that are official in character, and for society correspondence, the Address appears in the lower left-hand corner of the last page. The arrange- ment of the matter is the same in either case. 164 LETTER-WRITING In addressing persons that have titles, such as Rev., Hon., or Dr., but one title should be used. One should not write " Dr. Asa Gray, M.D.,'* or " Rev. Amos Barton, D.D.'* Neither should one write " Mr. David L. Kiehle, D. D." It is becoming common in America to follow the English custom of using the title Esquire in addressing any person of importance in a community. When this title is used, no title, not even Mr., should precfede the name. The Salutation. The Salutation begins at the left- hand side of the page, directly below the Address. The words used in the Salutation vary with the relations existing between the correspondents. If the letter is addressed to some person in authority, the Salutation is simply Sir. In business it may be simply Sir, but most people write Dear Sir or My dear Sir. In case of a firm name, the Salutation is always Gentlemen. In friendly correspondence. My dear Sir is often used; but if the relation between the correspondents is cordial, it is better to write My dear Mr. James, or Dear Mr. James. For ladies, whether married or unmarried, the Salutation is Madam, Dear Madam, or My dear Madam. In addressing a firm composed of women, the address is Mesdames. In a letter of friendship. My dear Mrs. James is correct. The punctuation of the Salutation varies. The colon, or the colon and dash, is used in formal and official cor- respondence; while the comma, or the comma and dash, is used in friendly letters and very informal notes. Never use a semicolon; never use a dash alone. In a Saluta- tion, the first word and the title and the name of the per- son addressed begin with capital letters; no other words do. If ** dear " is not the first word of the Salutation, it should never be capitalized. " My Dear Sir " is wrong. PARTS OF A LETTER 165 The Body of a letter contains the message. It will be discussed later. The Complimentary Close. The Complimentary Close is the formal ending of a letter; as. Yours truly , or Sincerely yours. This ending, like the Salutation, varies as the relation between the correspondents varies. In closing a letter to a high official, the language should be dignified; as, / have the honor to be YourSy with great respect (or Yours respectfully). The common business phrase is Yours truly or Very truly yours; while for close friendship the ending is usually Cordially yours y or Sincerely yours. There must be harmony between the Salutation and the Compli- mentary Close. A formal Salutation cannot be followed by a very friendly Complimentary Close. The tone established by the Salutation must be maintained to the end of the letter. Moreover, no matter how intimate the relation exist- ing between the correspondents, no person should ever allow himself to use abbreviations in either the Saluta- tion or the Close. " Gents " for Gentlemen is in vulgar taste; and " Yours, etc., etc.," or " Yours " alone is the work of one who thinks that impolite brevity in- dicates the pressing nature of his own personal affairs. The Complimentary Close should be grammatically correct. To write / am Yours truly, is correct; but to write " That the new conditions may bring good to your family is the wish of Yours truly," is incorrect. Yours truly cannot be the object of a preposition. Know the whole sentence for which the Complimentary Close stands; then make no mistake in grammar. 166 LETTER-WRITING The Signature. The Signature should be written very plainly, and should be written in the way in which a man usually signs his name: either his surname with the initials of his given names, or his surname with one of his given names and the initial of the other, or his name in full. While it is right that the whole of a letter should be as legible as the writer can make it, in many cases it is possible to make out a poorly written word by the rest of the sentence in which it stands. But this is not true of a signature; there is no clue by which it can be determined. It must stand alone. Make it plain. Below is the form of letter usually adopted by letter- writers : — {Heading) 638 Humboldt Avenue, Bangor, Maine, June 16, 1911. Messrs. Williams and Stokes, 400 Cedar Street, New York City. (Address) Gentlemen: {Salutation) {Body of the letter) Respectfully yours, {Complimentary Close) (Miss) Ellen Kimball. {Signature) EXERCISE 1. There are ten headings, ten addresses, and ten salutations in the following. Select them as you think suitable, and write them in the proper form for opening a letter, including the proper date. Onawa Anoka Co. Minn. 1434 A Street Washington D. C. 4568 Fifth Avenue New York City 839 Carnegie Hall New York City 628 South Wabash Avenue Chicago HI. Antlers Hotel Colorado Springs Colo. Pontchartrain Road New Or- leans La. 417 St. Germain Street St. Cloud Minn. 456 Cres- BUSINESS LETTERS 167 cent Avenue Waltham Mass. 613 JeflFerson Avenue Rich- mond Va. James A. Smith Superintendent of Schools Jamestown N. Dak. Miss Rebecca Van Cleve Tripoli Syria. Wanous and Vrooman (firm of ladies) 19 Sixth Street Minneapolis Minn. Mrs. James A. Tawney Hotel Westminster Boston Mass. Deere and Webber Moline 111. Hon. Julius A Rosen- wald 1678 Washington Avenue Helena Mont. Union Elec- tric Co. Seattle Wash. Mrs. Charles A. Lamb Profile House N. H. Col. William H. Prescott Cliff House Manitou Colo. Mr. Dow H. Smith 624 Hillside Drive Spokane Mont. Sirs Dear Sirs My dear Rebecca Sir Mesdames My dear Dow Madam My dear Mrs. Lamb Dear Sir My dear Colonel. 2. Write a heading, an address, a salutation, and a complimentary close for a letter to each of the following persons. It will require accurate knowledge to do this. 1. The President of the United States. 2. The Congressman from your district. 3. The Postmaster General. 4. The Governor of the State. 5. The Sheriff of your county. 6. The Clerk of the town or city in which you live. 7. The person in charge of the church you attend. 8. Your physician. 9. The principal of your school. 10. A dear friend. BUSINESS LETTERS Letters are written for many reasons; but, for the purposes of this discussion, they will be divided into three groups: business letters, society letters and notes, and friendly letters. For whatever purpose a letter is written, it should be in accord with the following general rules: First, the paper should be white or cream; brilliant hues with loud decorations indicate lack of refinement. Second, 168 LETTER-WRITING the penmanship should be the best the writer is capable of. Careless penmanship in any person is inexcusable. To scribble and scrawl shows no consideration for the reader, and common courtesy demands that the labor of others shall not be increased by any act of ours. Third, the conventions of good letter-writing should be followed with precise obedience. Fourth, the spelling should be faultless, and the language correct. Fifth, courtesy should be manifest in every part of a letter from the heading to the signature; and nothing should be put into a letter that could bring dishonor to the writer, even if it were published. All letters should be well expressed; the use of sole- cisms is a fault not easily overlooked. Furthermore, inelegant expressions never appear in the correspond- ence of ladies and gentlemen. We may expect that the woman who chews gum in a street-car will remark in her letter, " I take my pen in hand to say that I am well and hope that this will find you the same "; and will finally report the impressive fact that " the mail is going now " and " I must close." Avoid cheap and much-used phrases. In commercial correspondence there is a tendency to consider the conventions of less importance than in official or society letters. Some business men act as though there were not time enough in the day to get a sufficient number of dollars and at the same time be gentlemen. They would defend their lapses from good breeding by the worn-out excuse, " want of time." However, the up-to-date business man always has time to be a gentleman, and no stenographer that does not know the graces of letter-writing can remain in his office. In business, no less than in the society of leisure, civility and refinement are requisites for promotion. No act BUSINESS LETTERS 169 more surely reveals a man than the attitude he shows in corresponding with business men, especially if they be strangers. A letter should get under way at once. It is entirely unnecessary to use any set phrases for opening a letter, unless they serve a real purpose. It is a fact that many letters are written under the same conditions; and for this reason many letters start in nearly the same way. This fact has given rise to certain phrases that are often seen and have a real value. " Your letter of the 16th instant, requesting prices on supplies, has been received " brings the reader at once to the subject of the letter, and has a real use. There are many other opening phrases that are good because they serve some real purpose; for example: " Complying with your request of the 17th instant "; " We are in receipt of your favor of the 28th "; ** Referring to the matter mentioned last in your letter of the 16th *'; ** Replying to your letter of the 2d.'* The thing to bear in mind about these and similar phrases is that they are not to be used unless they have a real value. • In the same way certain sentences are often found at the close of letters. They are all right, if they are needed; but if they are put in for the purpose of rounding out a letter in grand style, they had better be omitted. There is no objection to " Thanking you for your prompt attention to this matter, I am "; " Trusting that we may hear from you, we are *'; ** We appreciate your order, and solicit further patronage"; and many others, provided they are grammatical and are used only when the occasion demands. A letter should be divided into paragraphs exactly as any other piece of composition. If a letter is a short matter about only one topic, there will be but one para- 170 LETTER-WRITING graph; but if it is to discuss several topics, or several phases of one topic, there will be as many paragraphs as there are divisions or subdivisions of thought. Un- less a letter is paragraphed, it must be read entirely through to find one p>oint; while if it is properly divided, the reader can glance at the letter and find the matter he wishes. A paragraph oj>ening with a quotation on sugar would not close with a discussion of the quality of a new brand of breakfast food. Make a new paragraph as often as there is a distinctly new topic to be dis- cussed. LETTERS OF APPLICATION In order to get a position now-a-days, it is often nec- essary to make a written application. This is always the case in answering advertisements, and often even when the applicant has sought the place in person. Employers can tell much by seeing a young person; but frequently they can gain quite as much information concerning an applicant's fitness for their work by means of a letter; so the applicant is asked to sit down and write a letter applying for the position. What does this letter tell the employer? First, the general appearance of the letter indicates clearly that the applicant is careful or careless; neat and tidy, or slovenly and lazy; trained to do things correctly, or without training in the essential forms in letter- writing. Second, he learns whether the applicant can write a legible hand, and whether he spells in the ac- cepted or in his own original manner. And third, he learns whether the applicant thinks straight and can say just what he thinks. The young applicant should remember that there are at least ten applications for every position. It would LETTERS OF APPLICATION 171 be safe to say that two-thirds of the applications re- ceived by a manager are thrown into a waste-paper basket without reading. Their general appearance de- clares the inefficiency and worthlessness of their writers. The few that look good to the manager he reads care- fully, and often his decision rests upon what may seem to the applicant the merest trifle. A mis-spelled word has often lost a teacher a promotion; a discourteous " Gents " has turned down many an application; so has a capital letter too many in ** Yours truly." What matters should be given in a letter of applica- tion? First will be the occasion that prompts the letter: sometimes an advertisement; sometimes information given by a friend; sometimes the applicant's own initia- tive. Second will be the application itself — a single sentence, courteous and dignified. Then will follow, third, a statement of fitness for the place, including preparation and experience in the same or a similar line of work. Fourth will be given the names of persons to whom the writer is permitted to refer, men qualified to speak of his character and ability. Fifth, there will be a request for an early reply, and a courteous ending. In giving his qualifications, an applicant should state all the facts frankly, but no more. If he has had no experience, he may as well say so; for the omission of any statement on this matter will always be understood to mean that he has had no experience. Moreover, if he is without experience, he can make some statement of his desire to learn, which will in a measure overcome his lack of experience. False modesty should not restrict his words to less than could be said by his friends; and, on the other hand, a disposition to boast and overstate his qualifications is sure to lead to shame and confusion when the truth comes out. 17» LETTER-WRITING Newport, Ohio, Jan. 25, 1911. Burroughs Mercantile Co., Newport, Ohio. Gentlemen : Having read the advertisement in last evening's Transcript, asking for a young man to act as stenographer in your oflSce, I wish to file my application and to submit my qualifications. I am nineteen years old and have just completed the com- mercial course in the Lincoln High School. My purpose on entering school was to become a stenographer; and therefore I took all the work in stenography and type-writing offered — two full years. I can take one hundred words a minute of ordinary business correspondence; and I am accurate and have good speed in the use of a machine. I am also acquainted with the ordinary devices for filing letters. I am permitted to refer you to Mr. Jacob Johnston, 1134 Rondo Avenue, Rev. Edward Smith, 2734 Second Street, and Mr. Milton Lamb, Manager of the Smith Dry Goods Co., regarding my character; and to Mr. J. E. Foss, Lincoln High School, as to my preparation. Hoping that my application will receive favorable considera- tion, I await your reply. Yours respectfully, Alvin Trafton. 1035 Orono Avenue, Cairo, 111., July 7, 1910. Mr. J. T. Werring, Secretary, Board of Education, Eldora, Iowa. Sir: I have learned through Miss Eunice Munger that there is to be a vacancy in the primary department of your city schools, and I wish to be considered an applicant for the posi- tion. LETTERS OF APPLICATION 175 Regarding my fitness for the work, I may say that I am a graduate of the Bellevue Normal School, from the Advanced Course. After leaving this school I taught in Bridgeport, 111., for three years. Then I attended the University of Illinois for two years, doing my work in the College of Education under Prof. Hugh S. Miller. Last year I filled a temporary position in South Haven, 111., having a second grade room. I have reason to believe that I have been successful in my work, but of this I prefer to let others speak. By permission, I refer you to Supt. A. J. Boss, Bridgeport, 111., Supt. L. F. Jones, South Haven, III., and Prof. Hugh S. Miller, University of Illinois. As I must teach this coming year, and a long delay in your decision might result in a loss of any position, I ask the favor of an early reply. Respectfully yours, (Miss) Elma B. Barrier. EXERCISE 1. In answer to an advertisement, write an applica- tion for a position in the office of a telegraph company. 2. You are working your way through school, and wish to get on a survey. Write an application to the Chief Engineer of the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul Railway, with head office in Chicago. You do not know that there is any place vacant, nor do you know any one in their employ. 3. Large department stores and telephone offices always need capable girls. Write a letter of application to one or the other for a place. It may be that you will have to address your letter to a near-by city. 4. You desire to learn the lumber business, and, are willing to begin at the bottom and work in the yard. Write a letter asking for employment with a firm doing a big business. 5. An advertisement appeared in the morning paper as follows : — 174 LETTER-WRITING WANTED — A young lady with a good education to take charge of the education of two young girls. She will be expected to teach them French and German, as well as the common branches usually given in our public schools. A comfortable home will be provided. Address Journal J 7. Write a letter applying for this position. Such a letter would have no address, and should begin with " Sir " or " Madam." 6. A graduate of a high school wishes to learn the machinist's trade. He has finished a manual training course in a good high school. Write his letter to The Eagle Foundry. 7. A man of large experience in conducting a general merchandise establishment has been compelled to move to the Pacific Coast on account of his wife's health. He learns through a friend of an opening in a thriving new town. Write his letter of application. LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION A letter of recommendation, to be of value, must state definitely specific reasons for the recommendation. General recommendations are of very little value; few persons are so dishonest or incapable that a general statement in their favor cannot be made. Neither is it sufficient to state that the applicant is a graduate of a high school or a college. Many that are worthy of no commendation whatever finish courses at these schools. If a young person is honest enough not to steal time; if he tells the truth, though it be to his own hurt; if he has made the most of his time in school, and is never satisfied with his present attainments; if he is active, economical, punctual, considerate, courteous, and has initiative, he has qualities that recommend him. These LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION 175 and similar qualities are those that should be men- tioned in a letter of recommendation. Sometimes it is necessary to write a letter of recom- mendation addressed " To whom it may concern." Naturally, the writer of such a letter is limited, because he does not know to whom it may be presented, nor for what kind of position the applicant will use it. Many men will serve well in one capacity, and be quite unfit for a different kind of employment. A letter " To whom it may concern** will always be guarded in its expression. I Newport, Ohio, Jan. 27, 1911. Mr. Jacob Johnston, 1134 Rondo Avenue, Newport, Ohio. Dear Sir: We have received a letter from Mr. Alvin Trafton, applying for a position as stenographer with us. He has re- ferred to you as a man competent to tell us of his fitness for the position. Will you give us your impression of Mr. Trafton, and especially of his fitness for this place .'^ An early reply will be appreciated by us, and will be of value to the applicant. Truly yours. Burroughs Mercantile Co. per A. J. B. II Newport, Ohio, Jan. 28, 1911. Burroughs Mercantile Co., Newport, Ohio. Gentlemen: In reply to yours of the 27th inst., I am glad to write you in regard to Mr. Alvin Trafton. I have known him well all through his life, and believe I am competent to speak. His father died some years ago, after a long illness, leaving the familv in rather straitened circumstances. From a little 176 LETTER-WRITING fellow, Alvin has earned his own spending money, by doing odd jobs in the neighborhood; and as soon as he was old enough he secured a permanent place in the store of the Smith Dry Goods Co., running a delivery wagon afternoons and Saturdays. His service of five years with this firm is evidence of his faithfulness and honesty. He has during the last four yiears completed a course in the Lincoln High School, with a rank of fourth in a class of seventy-five. He has so chosen his studies that he is specially trained for your work, and he will care for your correspondence in a very satisfactory manner. Hoping that you will give this young man a chance to prove his worth, I am Yours very truly, Jacob Johnston. EXERCISE 1. Write the letter that Rev. Edward Smith wrote for Alvin Trafton. 2. Write the letter that Supt. A. J. Boss wrote for Elma Barrier. 3. Write a letter recommending a cashier for a big mercantile house. 4. Write a letter recommending a machinist. 5. Write a letter of recommendation *' To whom it may concern." LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION The purpose of a letter of introduction is to bring together two persons known to the writer, but unknown to each other. Such a letter may be purely social, bringing together persons who would be congenial ; or it may be for business purposes. For example, an agent is sent into new territory, and notes of introduction to a few leading men may be very valuable; or, circum- stances may compel a change of residence, and a few letters pave the way for new employment. LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION 177 A letter of introduction should state the reason for bringing the two persons together. If a social letter, it will name the common interest that will make their acquaintance enjoyable. If a business letter, it will name some commercial matter of interest to both. It should always bespeak confidence in the person in- troduced. Such a letter is usually left unsealed. Smith and Jones are acquainted; so are Smith and Edwards. Smith writes a letter to introduce Edwards to Jones. Mr. William Jones, Buena Vista, Minn. Introducing Mr. Edwards. Albany, N. Y., August 11, 1911. Mr. William Jones, Buena Vista, Minn. My dear Mr. Jones: — This letter will introduce to you Mr. Jonathan Edwards of our city, who has been compelled by ill health to sever his connection with our business. It is a cause of deep regret to us that he must leave; for his fifteen years as head of our hardware department have made him very valuable, and we have come to appreciate his personal qualities very highly. Knowing that you are in touch with the business of your section, I thought that you could be of assistance to Mr. Edwards. I assure you that he is absolutely reliable; and I believe that you will find him a delightful 178 LETTER-WRITING man in his hours away from business. If you have kept up your interest in music, you will find Mr. Edwards a man to your liking. He sings and plays with excellent taste, and you both could enjoy many evenings together. With best wishes for your continued success, lam Sincerely yours, Hawley Smith. EXERCISE 1. Write a letter from a Dartmouth '10 man to a '92 man, now living in Fargo, N. Dak. The young man wishes to go West, and enter business there. He has no experience that specially fits him for anything, but hopes to get a start in this thriving young city. 2. A young man just leaving high school wishes to work in a foundry. You have a friend running one. Write a letter of introduction for the young man, whom you have known for years. Give great stress to two of the boy's qualifications for the position. 3. George R. Newell & Co. are in the wholesale grocery business in Minneapolis. They are sending a new man into some of their territory. Write a circular letter to the old customers. Tell them that the man who used to visit them has been taken into the business, and will now devote himself to serving his customers better than ever; that they will find the new represen- tative desirous of satisfying their wants. Request a continuance of their patronage. 4. Mr. Herbert Watson is about to open a drug store in Bayfield, Montana. He wishes to open an ac- count with Noyes Bros, and Cutler, Wholesale Drug- gists in Columbus, Ohio. They are unacquainted with him. Write the letter asking the favor of a running ac- count with this firm. You will need to refer to some persons of reputation and standing. LETTERS ORDERING GOODS 179 5. Noyes Bros, and Cutler have a representative in the territory. They advise him of Mr. Watson's wish and ask him to go to Bayfield and inquire about his standing. Write the letter they wrote their agent. 6. Write the letter the agent sent to Noyes Bros, and Cutler. 7. Write the letter from Noyes Bros, and Cutler to Mr. Watson, accepting his proposition or rejecting it. 8. AHce Trenholme is going abroad for her vacation. She studies architecture after her day's work in the office of a large department store. Mr. Kenyon is ac- quainted with the Dean of Lincoln Cathedral and gives her a letter of introduction to him. What does the letter say? LETTERS ORDERING GOODS A letter that contains an order for goods must be written with great care, that there may be no mistakes; for mistakes always cause trouble, and often cost money. Such a letter should contain, first, careful shipping di- rections : whether by freight or express, and over what lines. Second, the articles should be completely and accurately described. If ordering from a catalogue, the catalogue number should be given in addition to the description. The number of each article should be in figures and not written out. Third, if you enclose a check or a draft in payment of the bill, that should be stated. If the goods are to be charged to your account, you should state that fact. In case a check is enclosed either in payment of the bill or to apply on a running account, it is the custom to pin it to the top of the let- ter, and to write at the left below the letter, " Inc." for " Inclosure,'* so that the clerk in charge of mail shall see that the check is inclosed before he seals the letter. 180 LETTER-WRITING 421 South Seventh Street, Duluth, Minn., July 29, 1911. Houghton Mifflin Co., 623-633 South Wabash Avenue, Chicago, III. Gentlemen: Please ship at once by freight over the Duluth and South Shore Line the following books of the Riverside Literature Series: — 55 copies Milton's Paradise Lost No. 94 Paper 55 " Carlyle's Essay on Burns " 105 " 85 " George Eliot's Silas Marner " 83 Linen . 86 " Shakespeare's Julius Caesar ** 67 Paper 110 " Scott's Ivanhoe " 86 Linen You will find inclosed a draft for $328.35, in full payment of my account to date. Truly yours, Peter Johnson. EXERCISE 1. A car will hold about 20,000 feet of lumber. Write a letter to the C. A. Smith Lumber Co., Friday Harbor, Wash., ordering enough lumber to make a carioad. It might be well to get a price list to make the order accurate, with prices correct. Include six items. 2. John Sederstrom runs a grocery store in Rockford, Kansas. He orders a bill of goods from the St. Louis Mercantile Co., St. Louis, Missouri. The order contains ten items. He pays $360.00 on account. Write the letter. 3. You live on an inter-urban line out from Indiana- polis, Indiana. Order supplies necessary for the house- hold, to be sent by express over the line to your place. Have seven items. Be very specific in your description of articles. 4. Order from the house nearest you, dealing in LETTERS OF COMPLAINT 181 sporting goods, the materials necessary for your school track team. 5. Order automobile supplies for a private machine. 6. Order five of the newest songs for yourself. State the range of your voice. Be sure to tell the dealer enough so that he will send you music that you can use. 7. Write an order for the materials that are neces- sary for a school dress. 8. Order from a newspaper agency three papers and two magazines for the coming year. Be sure to state the date on which you wish the subscription year to begin. 9. Order an aeroplane, giving the kind, power, num- ber of passengers, and color of finish you wish. LETTERS OF COMPLAINT It is often the case that something in a bill of goods is not satisfactory. For instance, (1) the order may not be definite, in which case the dealer has to use his judg- ment in filling the order, or has to hold it for more com- plete instructions; or, (2) the dealer may be out of the brand of goods ordered, and so may substitute another which he says is just as good; or, (3) the dealer may send goods that he knows are of inferior quality, hoping that his customer does not know the difference. In the first case the man ordering is at fault and should try to adjust the matter; in the other two cases, the dealer is wrong, and it is entirely proper for the customer to re- fuse to receive the goods. In letters of complaint, refer to the order of which a copy is on file, giving the date and repeating such parts of the order as are in contro- versy. All letters of complaint should be courteous, no matter how much occasion there may be for sharp words. Neverwritealetterwhenyouareangry. Youwill regretit. 182 LETTER-WRITING EXERCISE 1. Write three letters of complaint: — a. One alleging that goods have been received that were not ordered. b. One expressing dissatisfaction because goods have been substituted, possibly of an equally good brand, but not suited to the trade. c. One claiming that the goods are of a very in- ferior quality. 2. In the case of the order for groceries in the pre- ceding lesson, the merchant was not careful to make his order definite, so that the dealer did not wish to take the responsibility of shipping that distance, and wrote to John Sederstrom for more definite instructions. Write the letter. 3. Write Sederstrom's reply. 4. Referring to number three of the preceding ex- ercise, write a letter from the dealer in Indianapolis, refusing to fill the order, saying that there is an old ac- count unpaid, of which a statement is enclosed. Write the statement of account, and enclose it. 5. Write the replies to the letters in Section 1 of this Exercise: the first showing that the order was indefinite, and was filled to the best of their judgment; the second saying that they were out of the particular brand of goods ordered, and that, wishing to have the whole order go forward together they had made the change. State that the goods shipped are in fact better than those ordered. The third letter will state that the goods or- dered were not in the market, and that the dealer had done his best to fill the order in a satisfactory way. All these letters should express regret that any mis- take had been made. The desire of all merchants is to have customers satisfied. \ LETTERS REQUESTING PAYMENT 183 6. Write a letter in answer to the first in the previous section, regretting that there was any indefiniteness in the order, but saying that the goods will not do, and asking that they may be sent back at the customer's expense. 7. Write a letter in answer to the third part of Sec- tion 5, repeating your assertion that the goods are in- ferior and will not be accepted, and that you will hold them for his intructions. 8. Write a reply to Section 7 of this Exercise, asking that the goods be shipped to Hancock, Missouri, to the Square Deal Mercantile Co. State your regret that the goods are unsatisfactory, but say that it is your inten- tion to be fair, and so you have taken the goods off the customer's hands. Express a wish that at some future time an opportunity will be given to try again. LETTERS REQUESTING PAYMENT Possibly no letters give so much annoyance as those requesting the payment of past due accounts. Every business man wishes to hold his customers; to do it he must not give offense. Yet bills must be paid; and nothing is so likely to offend as to intimate to a man that he is not keeping to his agreements. Most goods are sold on thirty or sixty days' time; and to delay payment beyond the time agreed upon is essentially a breach of contract. For this reason, to request payment always carries with it an implied accusation. To write a letter asking a customer to settle his account, then, requires much delicacy and tact. Such a letter must be direct, but must not be rude or harsh. The first letter sent out requesting payment is usu- ally printed; and does little more than call attention to the fact that the account is past due. The writer does 184 LETTER-WRITING not yet know why the bill has not been paid : misfortunes may have come; the bill may have been overlooked; or it may be that the customer is dishonest and cares little for his reputation in the business community. Because the dealer does not know the conditions, it would be un- wise to make demands or threats in the first letter. In the second, or " follow-up " letter, the writer gen- erally alleges some reason why it is necessary for him to have the money at the special time. It may be that he has a note coming due; bad crops may have curtailed his business; he may be closing up a partnership; or he may be moving from the city. If he has no special rea- son, there is always the general reason that a man in business must meet his own obligations; and to do i1 he must insist that his customers do the same thing. This letter is personal, and should be urgent in its re* quest. In the third letter, a different tone is assumed. The writer has now exhausted the common methods of col- lection, and demands that there be a settlement within a short time — ten or fifteen days. If this is not attended to, he regrets that he will be compelled to adopt severer methods. This means that he will turn the account over to an attorney or a collection agency. Yet nowhere in the correspondence is there any place where a man can afford to be less than polite. A courteous firmness should characterize such a letter. 1 Minot, South Dakota, May 23, 1911. Mr. James Appleton, Minot, South Dakota. Dear Sir: Your account, amounting to $78.40, is thirty days LETTERS REQUESTING PAYMENT 185 past due. You will oblige me by attending to it as soon as convenient. Very truly yours, S. Johnson. Minot, South Dakota, June 21, 1911. ^ Mr. James Appleton, Minot, South Dakota. Dear Sir: Thirty days ago I wrote you that your account was past due, and asked that it be paid. It must be clear to you that I am compelled to meet my bills on time; and it is only by the payment of accounts due me that I can make my settle- ments. At this time of year we must meet heavy payments for our spring stock. I very much need the whole amount ; but if it is not possible for you to pay the whole amount at once, send me as much as you possibly can. Please attend to this at once. Truly yours, S. Johnson. Ill Minot, South Dakota, July 1, 1911. Mr. James Appleton, Minot, South Dakota. Dear Sir: I have written to you twice, but so far I have heard nothing from you in answer to my letters asking for a settle- ment of your account. I regret that it is necessary for me to place this matter in the hands of my attorney, but your con- tinued disregard of my requests compels me to take this action. Truly yours, S. Johnson. 186 LETTER-WRITING IV Minot, South Dakota, July 5, 1911. Mr. James Appleton, Minot, South Dakota. Dear Sir: S. Johnson has placed in my hands his account against you, amounting to $78.40. Will you not call at my bflfice and arrange this matter.?^ I should deeply regret having to take this to court, and so to cause you the added expense of a trial. Respectfully yours, Edward Littleton. EXERCISE 1. A bill of lumber was sold at sixty days. Fifteen days after it was due, C. A. Smith Lumber Co. sent out a printed letter stating the amount due and requesting its payment. Write such a letter. 2. Not hearing from the customer, ten days later they sent a personal letter, stating the reason why it was necessary for them to have the money at once. Write the letter. S. Write a reply to the letter giving a sufficient cause for the delay, and enclosing a check for the full amount. The letter should thank the dealer for his kindness in letting the bill go past due. If there is an inclosure, what should be done? 4. Write another reply saying that it is impossible to meet the bill in full, giving a good reason. Pay half the amount and ask for an extension of thirty days on the balance. 5. A man having ordered automobile supplies, leaves the city. The dealer sends him three letters asking payment, but receives no reply. The last letter is un- LETTERS OF FRIENDSHIP 187 necessarily harsh. When the man arrives home he finds all the letters, and is much stirred up over the last one. He writes, expressing surprise that the dealer should think that he would not pay the bill, and saying that in the future he will make his purchases at some other place. Write the letter that brought the reply, and the reply to it. 6. Write a letter demanding payment of a long past due account. You have sent the customer several state- ments of the amount due, and three letters urging the payment. You have reason to believe that the customer is trying to avoid payment, and have concluded that the only way to reach him is to be severe. State that if the account is not settled within a few days (you name the date), the matter will be given to your attorney for collection by suit. LETTERS OF FRIENDSHIP Letters of friendship differ from business letters in this point especially: they are written primarily to en- tertain, while business letters are to give information. Many of the best letter-writers in their social letters have been so clever in handling information that one almost forgets the matter in the pleasure he derives from the manner in which it is given. The following letter by Miss*Mitford shows how a few trifles cleverly said may make a good letter: — Bertram House, Dec. 28, 1818. My dear Friend, — Did I ever mention to you, or did you ever hear elsewhere of a Miss Nevinson, poetess, novelist, essayist, and reviewer? I have just been writing to her in answer to a very kind letter, but writing in such alarm that I quivered and shook, and looked into the dictionary to see how to spell they and asked mamma if there were two t's in tottering. You 188 LETTER-WRITING never saw anybody in such a fright. It was like writing in chains; and now that I am writing to you, for whom I don't care a pin, it's like a galley-slave let loose from the oar. Such is my horror of being forced to mind my P's and Q's, to look to my stops and see to my spelling, to be fine, and sen- sible, and literary — and so alarming a lady is Miss Nevin- son, so sure to put one on the defensive, even when she has no intention to attack. This is no great compliment to my fair correspondent, but it is the truth. Miss Nevinson is a very extraordinary woman; her conversation (fof I don't think very highly of her writings) is perhaps the most dazzling and brilliant that can be imagined. I have just been reading Hazlitt's View of the Stage — rather like dining on sweetmeats and supping on pickles. So poignant is he, and so rich, everything seems insipid after him. This amusement, great as it always would have been, was very much heightened to me by recollecting so well the first pub- lication of the best articles — those on Kean in the Morning Chronicle. I was at Tavistock House at the time, and well remember the doleful visage with which Mr. Perry used to contemplate the long column of criticism, and how he used to execrate "the fellow's silly stuff" for filling up so much of the paper in the very height of the advertisement season. I shall never forget his long face. It was the only time of the day that I ever saw it either long or sour. He had not the slightest suspicion that he had a man of genius in his pay — not the most remote perception of the merit of the writing — nor the slightest companionship with the author. He hired him as you hire your footman, and turned him off (with as little or less ceremony than you would use in discharging the aforesaid worthy personage) for a very masterly but damaging critique on Sir Thomas Lawrence, whom Mr. Perry, as one whom he visited and was being painted by, chose to have praised. Hazlitt's revenge was exceedingly characteristic. Last winter, when his Characters of Shakespeare and his lectures had brought him into fashion, Mr. Perry remembered him as an old acquaintance, and asked him to dinner, and a large party to meet him, to hear him talk, and to show him off as the lion of the day. The lion came — smiled and bowed — handed Miss Bentley to the dining-room — said once "Yes" and twice LETTERS OF FRIENDSHIP 189 "No" — and never uttered another word the whole evening. The most provoking part of this scene was, that he was grac- ious and polite past all expression — a perfect pattern of mute elegance — a silent Lord Chesterfield; and his unlucky host had the misfortune to be thoroughly enraged without any- thing to complain of. Most faithfully and affectionately yours, M. R. Mitford. In this letter by Miss Mitford is found the second rule for a friendly letter: it should be just like delightful talk — no pomp, no affectation, no airs — just one's real self. A letter should have spirit and dash, and should represent the writer in his very best mood. A letter that sounds " just like her " when she is most entertain- ing is a good letter. The little incidents should be just as well told as the writer can tell them, using all the art he has acquired in the study of composition; yet they should not be formal or stiff, as if addressed to an au- dience, but easy and informal, as if talked to a dear friend before an open fire. If the letter is well written, the writer is with the reader; his voice, the merry twinkle in his eye, the hearty laugh, the sorrow and earnestness, the sympathy — all are there. A good letter reflects all the delightful peculiarities of the writer's real self. And third, a good letter always suits the person to whom it is written. Certain things will interest him; others will not. And one kind of language will be used in writing to a grandfather, another in addressing the principal of a school, and yet a different kind in talking to a little child. The following is a letter by Phillips Brooks to his sister-in-law, whose husband, " William," is his companion on a trip abroad. Notice how everything in the letter will be of interest to "Mary" at home. 190 LETTER-WRITING Lucerne, Sunday, August 12, 1877. Dear Mary, Now I will tell you all about it. I dare say William has written you since we arrived at Liverpool, but perhaps he has not told you anything about where we have been, or what we have been doing. I must go back to the steamer, where there were a great many pleasant people. We sailed along as quietly as if we were paddling on this beautiful lake of Lucerne, the sea bag hardly wiggled-waggled on the wall. Everybody came to dinner, and the tables were dread- fully crowded. On the whole, it was n't much of a voyage, quiet, dull, and respectable. We probably shall get something livelier going back, when the September sea will throw up its heels and make some sort of rumpus. Then we came to England, where, if it had not been for General Grant, we should have been of some consequence, but they were all taken up with him, and looked at us as if they wondered what we had come for. And we went about among them as if we had as good a right as they had, because our great-great-great-grandfathers came from there. Their country looked beautiful, and London never seemed fuller of people, and was pretty hot. It is terrible to think how many times we have been sizzling with heat and shivering with cold since we left New York. I feel like one of the pieces of meat, which we have had served up at many of our dining- places, which have evidently been heated over and then cooled down again a dozen times for diflferent travellers who came. However, it is a pretty healthy process, and we are getting as tough as some of the pieces of meat. Well, that is what we did in London. Then we crossed over to the Continent and so came to the Belgians and Hollanders. The country up there was damp and interesting. It was curious to see how hard they have worked to save it from the sea, and you wonder why they wanted to save it. The men looked wooden-headed and the women golden-headed, not as to their hair, but they wear gold blinders, like very swell horses, which make them look very funny, and compel you to go on the other side of the street when you meet a first-rate a la girl. But they were a dear old people, and I can hear their wooden shoes clattering about the Amster- LETTERS OF FRIENDSHIP 191 dam pavements now. I have no doubt they will go on grow- ing up (those of them who don't fall into the canals and get drowned in early youth), generation after generation, and thinking they have got the best country in the world. Then came the Rhine, and a little glimpse of Germany, and Gothic architecture, and all that sort of thing, our romantic period. It was all pretty, and William kept up a lively life, sight-seeing all day. Then came the green Tyrol, running up to the white Alps and sending us over from the snow-storm on the Stelvio to swelter in Verona. We put on overcoats and wondered whether we had really thirsted for a drop of water only two days before. Then came Venice, as fascinating and dreamy as it always is, beautiful hot Florence, bright Milan, then the hills again, and now we are in Switzerland. That is all. There is a lake outside this fourth story window that is prettier than anything in Pomfret, and to-morrow we are going over where those clouds are lying, to see the beauties of the Bernese mountains. I expect to see the Jungfrau wink at William to-morrow evening. He is as well as a healthy cricket. Thank you for letting him come, and I'll return him safe. My love to the babies, if they have not forgotten me, and I am just as usual. Your affectionate P. ^ In friendly letters, as in business correspondence, the ordinary conventions of letter forms should be followed. Some persons neglect to introduce the Heading and the Address, thinking them unnecessary; but the same rea- son for their use in one kind of letter holds good in an- other. It is more informal, however, to place the Ad- dress at the lower left-hand corner of the sheet, rather than at the beginning. The words used in the Salutation and the Complimentary Close of friendly letters differ from those in business letters, and show the intimate relations between the correspondents. The common forms of Salutation are like the following: My dear Mrs, Jonesy Dear Mr. Edwards, My dear Cousin, Dear 192 LETTER-WRITING Gertrude; and friendly letters close with Yours very truly. Sincerely yours. Cordially yours. Your loving son. Your affectionate uncle, and the like. Besides conforming to the ordinary conventions of letter-writing, a well-written letter obeys the rules of good composition. In a letter of reply, it is the custom to answer all questions first, each answer making a separate paragraph; after which new subjects may be introduced. Sentences should be complete; any ab- breviation of words or sentences suggests a discourteous haste. Spelling, punctuation, and capitalization should be carefully attended to. No one has a right to deal shabbily with his friends; and mere politeness permits no carelessness because *' it 's only a friend." EXERCISE 1. Imagine you are on a visit to your grandfather, who lives in another town, possibly, better still, in the country. The day of your arrival, write a letter home to your mother telling of your trip. At the end of a week, write a letter to your younger brother telling of the things he would like to know. At the end of the second week, write to your chum. These letters will give a continu- ous account, or diary, of your stay; but the persons to whom they are addressed will be so different that you must vary your style of writing, if your letters are to interest the people to whom they are written. 2. You are a member of a school debating team. Write to a friend of yours, who has moved away, tell- ing him all about your contest with the team from Peter- borough. In this letter you have an opportunity to use all the principles that govern good story-telling. 3. You have been very ill for a number of weeks. Your friend in New York has not heard of it, and you SOCIETY NOTES 19S write him (or her). Tell him, in addition to some brief accomit of your illness, your plans for a rest and an outing, until you grow strong enough to do something. 4. What is the longest continuous journey that you have ever taken.? Write an account of it. Pick out two or three funny incidents, and write them up; possibly exaggerate their humorous features. 5. A friend has been at your home for a week, and has become acquainted with your group of friends. After he has returned home, write a letter telling him the in- cidents that would interest him. They need not be ex- traordinary ; common things well told will interest him. 6. There is a little sister at home, and scarlet fever has left her almost deaf. You love her more dearly be- cause of her misfortune, and every week you write her an entertaining letter. Write what would please her. 7. Your friend has moved to a distant city and is home- sick and discouraged about his school work. He thinks of leaving school. Write him a cheering letter in which you show him that the change is exactly what he needed. Think of all the reasons why he should succeed, and write so convincingly that he will see you are right. SOCIETY NOTES Society notes all follow certain established forms . They may be either formal or informal. Formal notes are written in the third person and do not contain any of the first and second pronoun forms. Informal notes use the pronouns " I " and " you." Whether formal or informal, an invitation should indicate clearly (1) what the func- tion is to be; (2) where it is to be; and (3) when it is to be. Every society invitation should be answered at once. If it is necessary to decline, a specific reason for declining must be given. 194 LETTER-WRITING Below are given examples of notes of invitation, ac- ceptance, and regret: — INFORMAL NOTES I 426 Oakley Avenue, Sept. 22, 1910. My dear Charles, A number of the old class have planned to go to the lake for an outing next Friday. We shall leave from the Union Station at nine o'clock • in the morning. Will you join us? Sincerely yours, James Early. II 426 Oakley Avenue, Sept. 22, 1910. My dear Charles, Will you give us the pleasure of your company at a little lake party next Friday? A number of our old class will be together, and renew old friendships. We plan to leave from the Union Station at nine o'clock in the morning. Cordially yours, James Early. ni 748 Upton Avenue, Sept. 23, 1910. My dear James, I have arranged to have the day oflF, and will join your party at the lake. It's mighty fine of you to get together some members of the Class of '06. Cordially yours, Charles Eaton. SOCIETY NOTES 105 IV 748 Upton Avenue, Sept. 23, 1910. My dear James, I am very sorry that I cannot join you next Friday. You know that this is our busy sea- son; and the manager does not wish me to be away. Greet the old boys for me. Cordially yours, Charles Eaton. May the second. My dear Miss Elwell, Will you give me the pleasure of your company at the Junior party to be given at Mr. Jones's home, a week froiii Friday evening? Very truly yours, Stanley Benjamin. VI 1423 Alton Street, May third. My dear Mr. Benjamin, It will give me pleasure to attend the Junior party with you, on Friday evening, at the home of Mr. Jones. Sincerely yours, Mary Elwell. vn 1423 Alton Street, May third. My dear Mr. Benjamin, I regret that a previous en- gagement, which I cannot break, will not permit me to attend the Junior party with you, on Friday even- ning, at the home of Mr. Jones. Sincerely yours, Mary Elwell. 196 LETTER-WRITING FORMAL NOTES I Mr. and Mrs. James re- quest the pleasure of Mr. Wilmot's company at din- ner Tuesday evening, No- vember fourth, at half past seven. 427 Oakland Avenue. II Mr. Wilmot accepts with pleas- ure the kind invitation to dine with Mr. and Mrs. James on Tuesday evening, November the fourth. Ill Mr. Wilmot regrets that absence from the city will prevent his ac- ceptance of the kind invitation to dine with Mr. and Mrs. James on Tuesday evening, November the fourth. GENERAL EXERCISE 1. Write a short letter to a friend thanking him (or her) for the gifts he has sent you, which you appre- ciate very much. 2. You bought a half-dozen pairs of gloves recently at a reliable shop, in a near city. Each pair of gloves, as you wear it, rips or tears easily, and in other ways shows that it is defective. Write a polite letter to the business firm stating the case cleariy, and asking what they are willing to do about it. 3. Write the firm's answer to the above letter of com- plaint. GENERAL EXERCISE 197 4. Reply to an advertisement offering an oflfice posi- tion. As the position promises steady promotion and seems very desirable, you wish to obtain it. Write ask- ing for further particulars, and stating your qualifica- tions and references. 5. Write a letter to a dear old lady (or gentleman) who has been very kind to you, congratulating her upon having reached her seventieth birthday. 6. Write a formal invitation, asking your friend to a birthday dinner party. 7. Write a formal acceptance to the above. 8. Your mother is ill and has asked you to write for her an excuse for your absence from school. Write it as if she dictated it. Sign it with her name, with your initials underneath to show that you wrote it for another. 9. Write a newsy letter to your friend who is spending a few weeks in the country. Give all the neighborhood affairs and your own as well. Write as naturally as possible, as if you were talking to him. 10. Imagine yourself away at school. Write a letter home to your father or mother. 11. Write an advertisement for the return of a valu- able puppy, which has either strayed away or been stolen. 12. Invite a friend to visit you. Tell him how to reach you; what you can offer in the way of pleasure as an in- ducement to come; and for what length of time you wish him to stay. 13. Write to a publisher ordering several magazines in a club. State exactly what ones you want; the ad- dress, or addresses, to which they are to be sent; when the subscription year is to begin; and in what form you are sending the amount of money due for them. 14. Your friend has been ill and is now convalescent at home, or at the hospital. Write a short, cheerful 198 LETTER-WRITING letter, such as you would like to receive under similar circumstances. 1 5 . Write a letter introducing your friend who is about to move to another city to a friend already living there. You want them to meet and become friends. 16. Recommend a friend for a position with a business firm, a member of which you know personally and with whom you feel that your endorsement would carry some influence. 17. Write a letter to your foreign cousin whom you have never seen. Tell him what you think would inter- est him in you and your surroundings. Show also a desire to learn more of him. 18. Your friend's father (or mother) has just died. The friend until recently lived near you. Write a brief letter expressing your sympathy and affection. 19. Write to your grocer ordering a number of articles of food. Consult a newspaper so that you will be able to designate clearly the kind and grade of article you wish, and the quoted market price. Keep each article separate in bill form. State how you wish the goods de- livered, and how you will make payment. FOLDING A LETTER Custom has established that letters shall be folded in definite ways. A sheet of letter size, 83^2 by 11 inches, should be folded first from the bottom toward the top, so that the lower edge will come a quarter or a half an inch below the upper edge. (This is done for ease in unfolding.) Then a little less than one third of the width of the sheet should be folded from the right side toward the left. Next the left-hand edge should be folded toward the right so that it projects slightly beyond the fold. (This also is done for ease in unfolding.) The letter is THE SUPERSCRIPTION 199 then ready for the envelope. Take the envelope in the left hand with the addressed side from you and take up with the right hand the letter as it lies folded on the desk, and insert in the envelope. When the sheet is a short letter size, e.g., 83/^ by 7 inches, it should be folded exactly as above, except that the first fold should be only so far as to make the length of the folded letter a Uttle less than the length of the envelope. If the sheet is of note paper, it should be folded but once, from the bottom toward the top. The size of the envelope should match the paper so folded. THE SUPERSCRIPTION Mr.L. G. Cook, 32 Orlin Av., Spokane > Personal. Wash. The Superscription is the address written upon the envelope; it is an exact copy of the complete address in the letter. It contains on the first line the name of the person to whom the letter is to go; on the second, the house number and the name of the street; on the third, the city and the state; or on the third, the city, and on the fourth, the state. If the place is small, no street num- ber will be given; then the name of the town is on the sec- ond line, the county may be on the third line, and the state on the last. 200 LETTER-WRITING If a person wishes his mail returned to him when not delivered, without going to the Dead Letter OflBce, he should place his own name and address in the upper left-hand corner of the envelope. In the lower left- hand corner may be written R. F. D., for " rural free delivery "; Forward, meaning that the postmaster is to forward the letter to the correct address, if the person has moved; or Personal, meaning that the letter is to be opened only by the person to whom it is addressed. Government officials prefer that the name of the state be written in full rather than abbreviated. If, however, people will use abbreviations, they should use those which the Government has authorized. Alabama Ala. Montana Mont. Arizona Ariz. Nebraska Nebr. Arkansas Ark. Nevada Nev. California Cal. New Hampshire N. H. Colorado Colo. New Jersey N.J. Connecticut Conn. New Mexico N.Mex Delaware Del. New York N. Y. District of North Carolina N. C. Columbia D. C. North Dakota N. Dak. Florida Fla. Oklahoma Okla. Georgia Ga. Pennsylvania Penn. Illinois m. Porto Rico P.R. Indiana Ind. Rhode Island R.L Indian Territory Ind. T. South Carolina S. C. Kansas Kans. South Dakota S. Dak. Kentucky Ky. Tennessee Tenn. Louisiana La. Texas Tex. Maryland Md. Vermont Vt. Massachusetts Mass. Virginia Va. Michigan Mich. Washington Wa^h. Minnesota Minn. West Virginia W.Va. Mississippi Miss. W^isconsin Wis. Missouri Mo. Wyoming Wyo. The following should not be abbreviated: Alaska, THE SUPERSCRIPTION 201 Guam, Hawaii, Idaho, Iowa, Maine, Ohio, Oregon, Samoa, Utah. Use, if preferred, St for " Street," Av. or Ave, for " Avenue," and Co. for " County." The punctuation of the Superscription should be the same as the punctuation of the address. Commas sepa- rate the different parts that make up the address, and a period closes the last line. Every abbreviation is fol- lowed by a period, even where a comma also is needed; as, 2103 Hennepin Av., Minneapolis, Minn. Recently the omission of commas from the Super- scription has become common among business men. This omission is never allowable in the address in the letter, only in the Superscription, and only in the Super- scription of business letters. To facilitate the rapid handling of mail by clerks, and to insure the prompt delivery of letters, the Super- scription should be written very distinctly. Very little mail is miscarried, when clearly addressed; great quan- tities go astray every day because of incomplete or illegible Superscription. CHAPTER V FORMS OF DISCOURSE (Continued) EXPOSITION So far we have studied discourse that deals with things : things active, doing something, considered under the head of Narration; and things at rest, pictured, under the head of Description. Now we come to Ex- position, which deals with ideas, either separately or in combination. Instead of describing, for example, Mr. Smith's lame horse, exposition would treat of the general term, horses — any horse, every horse. The Great Stone Face is a narrative, the purpose of which is to teach the value of lofty ideals by telling how a youth may grow to be strong and helpful by holding ever be- fore himself the ideal of a truly noble man; but "The Value of Lofty Ideals " is a subject for exposition. Ex- position treats of abstract ideas, either general terms, Ifke horse, man, tree; or propositions, such as this: ** A lofty ideal invites nobility of character." Expo- sition, then, is explanation — explanation either of a word or of a proposition. That general propositions are harder to get hold of than concrete facts is readily apparent from the first reading of an author like Emerson or Ruskin. To a young person, their essays often mean but little. Yet when he puts in the place of the general terms they use some specific examples, and so sees that the statements are true, the general propositions have a mine of meaning, and " the sense of the author is as broad as the world." EXPOSITION 203 This line from Lowell may be but little suggestive at first : — Virtue treads paths that end not in the grave. Yet when the reader substitutes for " Virtue " the names of persons whose manhood and nobility have made them household words, such as Washington and Lin- coln, he knows that the line is true; he knows that these American noblemen still live in the hearts of this people; that a life beyond the grave is the reward granted not only to Lincoln and Washington, but to every man, in return for virtue. As, then, abstract ideas are more diflScult to grasp than concrete facts, so exposition has peculiar diffi- culties, greater than any found in narration and descrip- tion. It is not so hard to tell what belongs in a story; the events are all distinct. Nor is it so difficult to know what to include in a description; one can look and see. In exposition this is not so. When one says that the material should be selected according to the familiar law of Unity, one has given the guiding principle. Yet the real difficulty is still before the author : the difficulty is to decide how to classify such elusive matter as ab- stract ideas. In most minds such ideas do not have dis- tinct limits: it is hard to tell where the idea stops. And often ideas that we have marked " accepted " because at first they seemed all right, must, upon reexamina- tion, be " rejected," as not belonging to this particular phase of the subject. In writing of " The Uses of Coal," it is easy to wander over an indistinct boundary and to make a study of " Our Unhmited Coal Fields," a topic that is not included under " The Uses of Coal," Since abstract ideas are more or less indistinct, not only is it difficult to keep exactly to the limits of the subject, but there is no definite guide to the Arrange- r 204 FORMS OF DISCOURSE ment of matter, such as we found in narration. There a sequence of time was an almost certain rule; here the writer must study carefully how to arrange his ideas in some effective form. As discourse comes to deal more with general ideas, the difficulties are bound to in- crease; but these difficulties are not due to any new principles of structure. To examine abstract ideas — the matter used in this form of discourse — so thoroughly that they may be accurately and definitely known in their relation to what has gone before and in their bear- ing upon what may follow, — this is the seat of the diffi- culty in exposition. EXERCISE Write a clear explanation of how any one of the fol- lowing things is done. Assume that your reader is not informed at all, and that each step in the process must be made clear. If you prefer some other subject that has suggested itself to you, use it instead of one of these. 1. The making of a loaf of bread. 2. How to raise celery (corn, tomatoes, potatoes). S. The way to obtain a money order. 4. A good plan for making a kite, and how to fly it. 5. Dish-washing may be made a pleasant task. 6. The way a tile floor is laid. 7. How to learn to swim. 8. The process of securing one's own library card and of drawing a book from the library. 9. The care of young turkeys. 10. How to build and care for a furnace fire. METHODS OF EXPLANATION Exposition may conveniently be classified into (1) ex- position of a term, called definition, and (2) exposition of a proposition. And this latter, explaining a proposi- tion, is what is generally meant by the word exposition. METHODS OF EXPLANATION 205 Now what are the methods of explaining a proposition? Use of details. First, a common way of explaining a proposition is to go into details about it. This method is found in all kinds of discourse. It originates from the fact that persons usually give the general truth first and follow this statement with the details, or the particu- lars. Whether the story-teller begins by saying, " Now, I'll tell you just how I happened to be there"; or the traveler writes, "From the Place de la Concorde one has all about him magnificent views "; or the preacher opens his sermon with, " There are many things to be grateful for on this Thanksgiving Day," — in each case the general statement of the opening sentence will be followed by sentences going into detail. In exposi- tion enough details should be given to furnish a reason- able explanation of the proposition. In the examples below, the general statement, or the topic sentence, is printed in italics, and the details that establish this general proposition follow : — 1. All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet schoolroom. The scholars were hurried through their lessons, with- out stopping at trifles; those who were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and those who were tardy had a smart application now and then in the rear, to quicken their speed, or to help them over a tall word. Books were flung aside without being put away on the shelves, inkstands were overturned, benches thrown down, and the whole school was turned loose an hour be- fore the usual time, bursting forth like a legion of young imps, yelping and racketing about the green, in joy at their early emancipation. — Irving. 2. The enemies of the Parliament, indeed, rarely choose to take issue on the great points of the question. They content themselves with exposing some of the crimes and /o//ie5 to which public commotions necessarily give birth. They bewail the unmerited fate of Strafford. They exe- 206 FORMS OF DISCOURSE crate the lawless violence of the army. They laugh at the scriptural names of the preachers. Major-generals fleecing their districts; soldiers reveling on the spoils of a ruined peasantry; upstarts, enriched by the public plunder, taking possession of the hospitable firesides and hereditary trees of the old gentry; boys smashing the beautiful windows of cathedrals; Fifth-monarchy men shouting for King Jesus; agitators lecturing from the tops of tubs on the fate of Agag, — all these, thej^ tell us, were the offspring of the Great Rebellion. — Ma- CAULAY. Macaulay, writing of the " muster-rolls of names " which Milton uses in Paradise LosU wrote this para- graph of details : — 3. They are charmed names. Every one of them is the first link in a long chain of associated ideas. Like the dwell- ing-place of our infancy revisited in manhood, like the song of our country heard in a strange land, they pro- duce upon us an effect wholly independent of their in- trinsic value. One transports us back to a remote period of history. Another places us among the novel scenes and manners of a distant region. A third evokes all the dear classical recollections of childhood, — the school- room, the dog-eared Virgil, the holiday, and the prize. A fourth brings before us the splendid phantoms of chivalrous romance, the trophied lists, the embroidered housings, the quaint devices, the haunted forests, the enchanted gardens, the achievements of enamoured knights, and the smiles of rescued princesses. EXERCISE Write a single paragraph on one of the following topics, including details enough to make the general proposi- tion clear to any one who has not thought about the sub- ject. Use an important detail to close the paragraph. 1. Certain animals possess almost human intelligence. 2. Travel is a part of one's education. METHODS OF EXPLANATION 207 3. Some slang words and phrases may become a part of our language. 4. We enjoy many conveniences our ancestors never knew. 5. A child can do much that is useful. 6. Not all rich men are selfish. 7. I will tell you of the habits of some birds I know. Use of the obverse. Second, a proposition may be explained by telling what it is not; that is, by giving the obverse. At times this method is as valuable as tell- ing what a thing is. The obverse statement usually fol- lows a positive statement, and again it is followed by the affirmative: that is, first, what it is; second, what it is not; and last, again what it is. The first statement is sometimes omitted; then the paragraph begins with the obverse statement. In the first example from Ma- caulay the first two sentences are affirmative; the next four are the obverse; and the closing sentences are again affirmative. 1. The Spirits of Milton are unlike those of almost all other writers. His Fiends, in particular, are wonderful creations. They are not metaphysical abstractions. They are not wicked men. They are not ugly beasts. They have no horns, no tails, none of the fee-fa-fum of Tasso and Klop- stock. They have just enough in common with human nature to be intelligible to human beings. Their charac- ters are, like their forms, marked by a certain dim re- semblance to those of men, but exaggerated to gigantic dimensions, and veiled in mysterious gloom. — Macaulay. 2. Milton did not strictly belong to any of the classes which we have described. He was not a Puritan. He was not a free-thinker. He was not a Royalist. In his character the noblest qualities of every party were combined in harmonious union. From the Parliament and from the court, from the conventicle and from the Gothic cloister, from the gloomy and sepulchral circles of the Roundheads, and from the Christmas revel of the hospitable Cavalier, his nature selected and drew to itself whatever was great 208 FORMS OF DISCOURSE and good, while it rejected all the base and pernicious ingredients by which those finer elements were defiled. — Macaulay. EXERCISE Write a single paragraph on one of these topics. After the first sentence, introduce at least three sen- tences stating the obverse. Follow these by some sen- tences that shall re-state the proposition in the afl&rma- tive. Have a clear, strong sentence at the end. 1. The common idea of success is not always the true one. 2. Not all new fashions in dress are to be adopted. 3. I visited to-day a children's public playground. 4. I remember my sensations when I was first told I had won the prize. 5. There seemed to be no change in when I revisited the place. 6. I had in mind a garden I would possess. Use of comparison. Third, a thing may be explained by telling what it is like, or what it is not like. This is called the method of comparison. It is often the clearest way by which to describe or to explain. Sometimes one thing is likened to a number of things, drawing from each a quality that more definitely pictures it; or it may be compared to but one, and the likeness may be followed out as far as it helps the reader to understand the subject. Telling what a thing, or a proposition, does not resemble, is a means of excluding from the compar- ison qualities that might otherwise be confusing. It is the character of such revolutions that we always see the worst of them at first. Till men have been some time free, they know not how to use their freedom. The natives of wine countries are generally sober. In climates where wine is a rarity intemperance abounds. A newly liberated people may be compared to a northern army encamped on the Rhine or the Xeres. It is said that, when soldiers in such a situation METHODS OF EXPLANATION 209 first find themselves able to indulge without restraint in such a rare and expensive luxury, nothing is to be seen but intoxi- cation. Soon, however, plenty teaches discretion; and, after wine has been for a few months their daily fare, they become more temperate than they had been in their own country. In the same manner, the final and permanent fruits of liberty are wisdom, moderation, and mercy. Its immediate eflFects are often atrocious crimes, conflicting errors, skepticism on points the most clear, dogmatism on points the most mysteri- ous. — Macaulay. EXERCISE 1. Write an explanation of the origin of springs, making use of a simple comparison to make it clear. If it would help, use a simple drawing. 2. It was not until 1840 that cook-stoves took the place of fire-places. Write an explanation of a very simple cook-stove, using comparisons. 3. Had you been living on the banks of the Hudson in 1807, you would have been astonished to see a boat steaming up the river. Explain the working of this boat to a boy living in Philadelphia at that time. You will naturally use some comparisons. 4. There are three things that one thinks of from which ideas have been drawn in the construction of an aeroplane. Write an explanation of the working prin- ciple of this modern machine by use of comparisons. 5. Here is a comparison often made: The green hills far away are like our unattained desires. The points of resemblance are mentioned below : — a. The hills. Our desires. 6. The hills appear clothed The wished-for object seems in green. ever fresh, ever beautiful. c. We reach the hills, to find We gain our desires, and find rocks and barren stretches that the promised good is among the green. not so beautiful as it seemed. 210 FORMS OF DISCOURSE Think over this comparison long and carefully. It will be better for you to say all that you wish to of the fascinating beauty of the green hills far away be- fore you undertake to introduce the comparison. Then say something that will lead into the second part; such as, " How they resemble our unattained desires! ** or " So I think," etc. 6. Choose any of the following topics and make a plan for writing a paragraph. Submit both the plan and the paragraph for your exercise. 1. I saw a lily bud unfold. (Liken to the development of a beautiful character.) 2. It is the rock that makes the pilot. (What does this mean when applied to life?) S. Sleep came to close out the world and its thousand cares. } (Liken to the shutting of a roll-top desk.) 4. I was like one who had suddenly come upon an oasis in the panting sterility of the desert. (What does this mean?) 5. Our brains are seventy-year clocks. The Angel of Life winds them up once for all, then closes the case, and gives the key into the hand of the Angel of the Resurrection. Use of repetition. Last, a proposition may be ex- plained by repetition of the thou^t in some other form. This is most" frequently used when the words employed to state the proposition are difficult to un- derstand, or when the thought itself contains some difficulties, and must be stated in several different ways to make it clear. Simply to repeat a thought in other words would generally be useless; but to re- peat it so that with each repetition the thought be- comes clearer or broader in its application is valuable in explaining a subject. For example, if the general proposition should be, (1) " A strong partisan may not be a good citizen," some young reader might not know what was meant by the word " partisan." This METHODS OF EXPLANATION 211 thought, then, could be repeated in the following form : (2) " Any man that sticks firmly to his party may be working a real injury to the great country that he loves." Following this sentence, the author might write another, even more general than the first, to explain the first; as, (3) ** Indeed, one can easily conceive a body of men, so devoted to a theory, beautiful though it may be in many respects, that they stand in the way of the world's progress." In these sentences, " parti- san " is repeated in the phrases, " a man that sticks firmly to his party," and *' a body of men devoted to a theory." So the predicate, '* may not be a good citi- zen," is explained by " may be working an injury to the great country that he loves "; and this is broadened to include the whole world in the phrase, " stand in the way of the world's progress." In the three sentences is illustrated the method of repetition. The second sentence repeats the first in a more concrete and si>ecific manner; while the third makes the same statement in a more general way than the first. In either case of repetition, the first general proposition has been made clearer to the reader by the restatement. In the following illustrations of paragraphs of repe- tition, notice how easily the thought of the first sentence is repeated in each following sentence, yet is never quite the same : — 1. Like the ocean of water, the ocean of air knows no repose or stagnation. What we call stillness on the most sultry of summer days does not mean absolute stillness. Though not enough wind may stir to lift a feather, yet the air is in ceaseless motion, to and fro, hither and thither. The whole atmosphere is a vast and complicated system of air-currents, and each lesser portion of air has its own lesser circulation. You cannot lift your hand without causing a tiny breeze; you cannot turn a wheel without making a 212 FORMS OF DISCOURSE minute whirlwind; and every separate air-movement draws other movements in its train. — Agnes Giberne. 2. The English, in j act, are strongly gifted with the rural feeling. They possess a quick sensibiHty to the beauties of nature, and a keen rehsh for the pleasures and employments of the country. This passion seems inherent in them. Even the inhabitants of cities, born and brought up among brick walls and bustling streets, enter with facility into rural habits, and evince a tact for rural occupation. The mer- chant has his snug retreat in the vicinity of the metro- polis, where he often displays as much pride and zeal in the cultivation of his flower-garden, and the maturing of his fruits, as he does in the conduct of his business, and the success of a commercial enterprise. Even those less fortunate individuals who are doomed to pass their lives in the midst of din and traffic, contrive to have something that shall remind them of the green aspect of nature. In the most dark and dingy quarters of the city, the drawing- room window resembles frequently a bank of flowers; every spot capable of vegetation has its grass-plot and flower-bed; and every square its mimic park, laid out with picturesque taste, and gleaming with refreshing verdure. — Irving. EXERCISE Write a paragraph on one of the following topics. Have at least three sentences repeating in slightly changed form the first statement. Close with a good sentence. 1. Genius is the capacity for taking infinite pains. 2. The dictionary is the most fruitful and interesting of books. 3. Kindness makes friends. 4. Science is ever advancing. 5. A merciful man is merciful to his beast. 6. The world is growing wiser. Summary. These, then, are the four commonest ways of explaining a proposition: by details, by the obverse, by comparison, and by repetition. Few paragraphs. METHODS OF EXPLANATION 218 however, or essays are ever wholly written by any single method. Most paragraphs combine two or more methods of development. Examples of such are found everywhere. EXERCISE Below is a group of paragraphs illustrating the four methods of exposition. Study each carefully. First, find the topic sentence of the paragraph. Is it always the first sentence of the paragraph? Second, tell by what method, or methods, the topic has been explained. Third, note very carefully the last sentence of each paragraph. Does it repeat the topic sentence? Is it strong? What relation has it to the opening sentence? 1. It is easy to name the qualities of Dickens's genius, so salient are they, and so omnipresent. A wonderful vigor, a faculty for graphic description which runs parallel with his minute observation, sympathies which are always tenderly alive, a keen sense of humor, a keen sense of pathos, a fertile imagination, and a facile style, — thus, perhaps, we may sum them up. — Newcomer. 2. Our studies here will be of life, and chiefly of those minuter or obscurer forms which seldom attract attention. In the air we breathe, in the water we drink, in the earth we tread on, life is everywhere. Nature Hves: every pore is bursting with life; every death is only a new birth, every grave a cradle. And of this we know so little, think so little ! Around us, above us, beneath us, that great mystic drama of creation is being enacted, and we will not even consent to be spectators! Unless animals are obviously useful or obviously hurtful to us, we disregard them. Yet they are not alien, but akin. The life that stirs within us stirs within them. We are all "parts of one transcendent whole." The scales fall from our eyes when we think of this; it is as if a new sense had been vouchsafed to us, and we learn to look at Nature with a more intimate and personal love. — Lewes. 214 FOKMS OF DISCOURSE 3. Has not the man who has worked for the money a right to use it as best he can? No, in this respect, money is now exactly what mountain promontories over public roads were in olden times. The barons fought for them fairly: — the strongest and cunningest got them; then fortified them and made every one who passed below pay toll. Well, capital now is exactly what crags were then. Men fight fairly for their money; but once having got it, the fortified millionaire can make everybody who passes below pay toll to his million and build another tower of his money castle. — Ruskin. 4. A brogue is not a fault. It is a beauty, an heirloom, a dis- tinction. A local accent is like a landed inheritance; it marks a man's place in the world, tells where he comes from. Of course it is possible to have too much of it. A man does not need to carry the soil of his whole farm around with him on his boots. But, within limits, the ac- cent of a native region is delightful. 'T is the flavor of heather in the grouse, the taste of wild-herbs and ever- green-buds in the venison. I like the maple-sugar tang of the Vermonter's sharp-edged speech; the round, full- waisted r's of Pennsylvania and Ohio; the soft, indolent vowels of the South. One of the best talkers now living is a schoolmaster from Virginia, Colonel Gordon McCabe. I once crossed the ocean with him on a stream of stories that reached from Liverpool to New York. He did not talk in the least like a book. He talked like a Virginian. — Van Dyke.i 5. Ariosto tells a pretty story of a fairy, who, by some mys- terious law of her nature, was condemned to appear at certain seasons in the form of a foul and poisonous snake. Those who injured her during the period of her disguise were forever excluded from participation in the blessings which she bestowed. But to those who, in spite of her loathsome aspect, pitied and protected her, she after- wards revealed herself in the beautiful and celestial form which was natural to her, accompanied their steps, granted all their wishes, filled their houses with wealth, made them happy in love and victorious in war. Such a spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hate- 1 Fisherman's Luck, by Henry vnn Dyke. Copyright, 1890, 11)05, by Charles Scribner'a SoQB. By permissiOD of the Tubliahers. METHODS OF EXPLANATION 215 ful reptile. She grovels, she hisses, she stings. But woe to those who in disgust shall venture to crush her! And happy are those who, having dared to receive her in her de- graded and frightful shape, shall at length be rewarded by her in the time of her beauty and her glory! — Macaulay. As the weeks grew to months, the child created fresh and fresh links between his life and the lives from which he had hitherto shrunk continually into narrower isolation. Un- like the gold which needed nothing, and must be wor- shipped in close-locked solitude, which was hidden away from the the daylight, was deaf to the song of birds, and started to no human tones, Eppie was a creature of end- less claims and ever-growing desires, seeking and loving sunshine and living sounds and living movements; making trial of everything, with trust in new joy, and stirring human kindness in all eyes that looked on her. The gold had kept his thoughts in an ever-repeated circle, leading to nothing beyond itself; but Eppie was an object compacted of changes and hopes that forced his thoughts onward, and carried them far away from their old eager pacing toward the same blank limit, — carried them away to new things that would come with the coming years, when Eppie would have learned to understand how her father Silas cared for her; and made him look for images of that time in the ties and charities that bound together the families of his neighbors. The gold had asked that he should sit weaving longer and longer, deafened and blinded more and more to all things except the monotony of his loom and the repetition of his web; but Eppie called him away from his weaving, and made him think all its pauses a holiday, re-awakening his senses with her fresh life, even to the old winter-flies that came crawling forth in the early spring sunshine, and warming him into joy be- cause she had joy. — George Eliot. Are not all natural things, it might be asked, as lovely near as far away? By no means. Look at the clouds and watch the delicate sculpture of their alabaster sides, and the rounded lustre of their magnificent rolling. They are meant to be beheld far away: they are shaped for their place high above your head; approach them and they whirl 216 FORMS OF DISCOURSE away in fierce fragments of thunderous vapor. Look at the crest of the Alp from the far-away plains over which its light is cast, whence human souls have communed with it by myriads. It was built for its place in the far- off sky : approach it, and as the sound of the voice of man dies away about its foundations, and the tide of human life is met at last by the eternal "Here shall thy proud waves be stayed," the glory of its aspect fades into blanched fearfulness; its purple walls are rent into grisly rocks, its silver fretwork saddened into wasting snow; the stormbrands of ages are on its breast, the ashes of its own ruin lie solemnly on its white raiment. — Ruskin. 8. When my cousin and I took our porridge of a morning, we had a device to enliven the course of the meal. He ate his with sugar, and explained it to be a country continually buried under snow. I took mine with milk, and explained it to be a country suffering gradual inundation. You can imagine us exchanging bulletins; how here was an island still unsubmerged, here a valley not yet covered with snow; what inventions were madp; how his population lived in cabins on perches and travelled on stilts, and how mine were always in boats; how the interest grew furious as the last corner of safe ground was cut off on all sides and grew smaller every moment; and how, in fine, the food was of altogether secondary importance, and might even have been nauseous, so long as we seasoned it with these dreams. — Stevenson.^ 9. We grown people can tell ourselves a story, give and take strokes until the bucklers ring, ride far and fast, marry, fall, and die; all the while sitting quietly by the fire or lying prone in bed. This is exactly what a child cannot do, or does not do, at least, when he can find anything else. He works all with lay figures and stage properties. When his story comes to the fighting, he must rise, get some- . thing by way of a sword, and have a set-to with a piece of furniture, until he is out of breath. When he comes to ride with the king's pardon, he must bestride a chair, which he will so hurry and belabor, and on which he will so furiously demean himself, that the messenger will ar- rive, if not bloody with spurring, at least fiery red with 1 By permission of the Publishers, Charles Scribner's Sons. SUBJECT, THEME, AND TITLE 217 haste. If his romance involves an accident upon a cliff, he must clamber in person about the chest of drawers and fall bodily upon the carpet, before his imagination is sat- isfied. Lead soldiers, dolls, all toys, in short, are in the same category, and answer the same end. — Stevenson.^ 10. For many years after the Restoration, they [the Puritans] were the theme for unmeasured invective and derision. They wer^ exposed to the utmost licentiousness of the press and 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 abandoned without reserve, to the tender mercies of the satirists and drama- tists. The ostentatious simplicity of their dress, their sour aspect, their nasal twang, their stiff posture, their long graces, their Hebrew names, the scriptural phrases which they introduced on every occasion, their contempt of human learning, their detestation of polite amusements, were, indeed, fair game for the laughers. — • Macaulay. 11. Life in the world is a collecting, and all the men and women in it are collectors. The question is. What will you col- lect? Most men are intent on collecting dollars. Their waking hours are taken up with inventing plans, methods, schemes, whereby they may secure dollars from other men. To gather as many dollars as possible is the de- sideratum. And when you collect one thing, you incident- ally collect others. The fisherman who casts his net for shad usually secures a few other fish, and once in a while a turtle, which enlarges the mesh to suit and gives sweet liberty to the shad. To focus exclusively jon dollars is to secure jealousy, fear, and vanity, and a vaulting ambition which may claw its way through the mesh and let your dollars slip into the yeasty deep. — Hubbard. SUBJECT, THEME, AND TITLE Subject. It has been stated that because abstract ideas are harder to grasp than those that are concrete, exposition is harder than description. Since this is so, 1 By permisBion of the PublieherB. Charles Scribner's Sons. 218 FORMS OF DISCOURSE the subjects chosen for paragraphs of exposition should be easy, and subjects that are thoroughly understood. No subject can be considered good for composition that sends a pupil to a library to copy the essential facts. A composition exercise is not for the purpose of start- ling either the class or the teacher with some un- heard-of thing; it is to teach skill in saying clearly what the student already knows. The subjects that pupils should choose, then, ought to be concerned with com- mon things, or with things about which they have already studied. Few persons have the ability to view a general sub- ject in all its relations. "Books" everybody knows something of; yet very few are able to treat this gen- eral subject in all its phases. A person writing of the general topic, " Books," would be compelled to know not only what a book is ^ what may truly be called "a book " — and what is the value of books to readers, and therefore the influence of the different kinds of literature, but also about the machinery for making books, the history of printing, illustrating, and binding books, and all the mechanical processes connected with the manufacture of books. The subject might take quite another turn, and be the development of fiction or drama; it might be a discussion of the influences, polit- ical or social, that have moulded literature; it might be a study of character as manifested in different works. Very few persons are well fitted to write on the gen- eral topic, " Books." A subject should be limited. For young persons the subject should be so selected and stated that the treatment may be concrete. As persons ad- vance in years, they speak more in general terms; yet, after all, very few go so far as to think always in ab- stract terms. Macaulay says, " Logicians may reason SUBJECT, THEME, AND TITLE 219 about abstractions, but the great mass of men must have images." And even Macaulay depended largely for his glittering effects upon the use of common, con- crete things which the great mass of people understand. *' Virtue," as a general proposition, is beautiful; but what can a young writer say about it? Let him leave the whole list of abstract subjects found in old rhetorics alone. They are subjects for experience; they cannot be handled by youth. Theme. After a subject has been chosen, the writer next considers how he shall treat it. He sel^ts the posi- tion he will take with regard to the proposition; that is, his point of view. This position he embodies in a short sentence, called his theme. For instance, " patriotism " is the subject; as it stands, it is abstract and very gen- eral. However, " Can a lover of peace be a patriot? " would be sufficiently concrete to be treated. Even yet there is no indication of the author's point of view. Should he write, " An ardent lover of peace is the true patriot," his theme is announced, and his point of view. A theme is essential in exposition. It is not necessary that it shall be stated to the reader, but it must be clearly stated in the mind of the writer for his own guid- ance. It is, however, usually announced at the opening of the essay. It is the touchstone by which the author tries all the material he has collected. Not everything on the subject of patriotism should be admitted to an essay that has for its theme, "An ardent lover of peace is the truest patriot." It would save many a digression if the theme were written in bold, black letters, and placed before the author as he writes. Every word in the statement of a theme should be there for a purpose, expressing some important modification of the thought. For instance, the statement above re- 220 FORMS OF DISCOURSE garding " a lover of peace " may be too sweeping; per- haps the essayist would prefer to discuss the modified statement that " an ardent lover of peace who will not go so far as to sacrifice country and honor is the truest patriot." The statement of a theme should em- ploy the hardest kind of thinking; and when the theme is determined definitely and 'for all, the essay is safe from intrusion of foreign ideas, which disturb the har- mony of the whole. Another advantage in the theme is that, when once chosen, it will go far toward writing the essay. One great trouble with the young writer is that he is not willing to rely on his theme to suggest his composition. Pro- fessor Palmer well says: — He examines his pen-point, the curtains, his inkstand, to see if perhaps his ideas may not be had from these. He wonders what his teach^er will wish him to say, and he tries to recall how the passage sounded in the Third Reader. In every di- rection but one he turns, and that is the direction where lies the prime mover of his toil, his subject. Of that he is afraid. Now, what I want to make evident is that his subject is not in reality the foe, but the friend. It is his only helper. His composition is not to be, as he seems to suppose, a mass of his laborious inventions, but it is tQ be made up exclusively of what the subject dictates. He has only to attend. At pre- sent he stands in his own way, making such a din with his private anxieties that he cannot hear the rich suggestions of the subject. He is bothered with considering how he feels, or what he or somebody else will like to see on his paper. This is de- bilitating business. He must lean on his subject, if he would have his writing strong, and busy himself with what it says, rather than with what he would say. Title. Having selected a subject and with care stated the theme, it yet remains to give the essay a name. There is something in a name, and those authors who make a living by the pen are the ^hreivdest i|i SUBJECT, THEME, AND TITLE 221 displaying their wares under the most attractive titles. First, the title should he attractive, but it should not promise what the essay does not give. Newspaper head- lines are usually attractive enough, but often shame- fully untruthful. Next, the title should indicate the scope of the essay. When Professor Palmer calls his excellent little book " Self -Cultivation in English," it is evident that it is not a text-book for classes, and that it will not treat English as literature or as a science. It is a book telling the reader how to gain the ability to write English without a teacher. Third, the title should be short. The theme can rarely be used as a title; it is too long. But the principal idea developed in the essay should be embodied in the title. * * Peace and Patriotism * * would be a good title to give the essay we have spoken of. The title, then, should be attractive; it should be short; and it should truthfully indicate the contents of the essay. EXERCISE 1. For each of the following titles write a theme that will clearly state your attitude toward the sub- ject: — 1. The Benefits Derived from Fresh Air. 2. How to Make a Rabbit-trap. 3. Birds and Animals that Practice Deception. 4. The Pleasures of Country Life. 5. The Value of Knowing How to Swim. 2. For each of the following themes write a good title: — 1. The life of an Indian possesses great charm for me. 2. A child of ten can do much that is useful. 3. Sometimes I fancy flowers are in character like people. 4. The bee is an interesting fellow to study. 5. The English sparrow has some qualities we must admire. 222 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 3. For each of the following subjects write a good theme and a title : — 1. Our companions. 2. Games. 3. Vacation days. 4. Kite making. 5. The cigarette habit. 6. My garden. SELECTION OF MATERIAL . One of the important factors in the construction of an essay is the selection of material. Though theme and title have already been discussed, it is not because they are things for a writer to consider next after he has chosen his subject; but because they are so intimately bound up with the subject that their treatment at that time was natural. The title is not in the least essential to the writing of the essay; it may be deferred until the essay is finished. It is necessary, however, that the writer have much knowledge of his subject, and that from this knowledge he be able to frame an opinion re- garding the subject. When he has formed his opinion into the shape of a theme, he is ready to begin the work of constructing his essay; and the first question in ex- position, as in narration and description, is the selection of material. Unity. The selection of material in exposition requires > the shrewdest scrutiny to keep out matter that does not help the thought forward. In narration we decided by the main incident; in description, by the purpose and the point of view; in exposition we test all material by its relation to the theme. Does it help to explain the theme? If not, however good material it may be, it has no business in the essay. SELECTION OF MATERIAL 223 Association of ideas is a law by which, when one of two related ideas is mentioned, the other is suggested. To illustrate: When the discovery of America is men- tioned, Columbus appears; when treason is spoken of, Arnold comes to mind. This law is of fundamental im- portance in writing an essay; one thing should suggest the next. But valuable as it is, even indispensable, it may become the source of much mischief. For instance, a pupil has this for his theme: ** Reading gives pleasure to many." He writes as his second sentence, "By pleasure I mean the opposite of pain," and goes on, "All things are understood by their opposites. If we did not know sickness, we could not enjoy health. Joy is understood through sorrow. I remember my first sorrow. My father had just given me a new knife — my first knife," and so on from one thing to another, and not so unnaturally, either. Each sentence has sug- gested the next; but not one is on the theme, " Read- ing gives pleasure to many." Association of ideas has in this case led the writer on until he has lost sight of his original theme. Mischievous it may be, when un- controlled; but all attractive hterature is attractive because it is bound together by association of ideas. In order that an essay may be clearly on one subject, very strict watch must be kept in the selection of ma- terial. Some things will be admitted without question; some will be rejected with no hesitation. But there is a third class of material, which is closely allied with the general subject and near the border line of the theme; and it is not so easy to determine whether it should be admitted or rejected. This class of material requires the closest questioning. All matter in a composition must prove its right to be there by contributing to the strength of the essay, not to the number of its pages. 224 FORMS OF DISCOURSE EXERCISE 1. In the following paragraphs, the writer has been led away from the topic by association of ideas. You will notice that the closing sentence has no relation to the opening. Study each paragraph carefully, and tell just where the writer began to wander, and what led him away from his theme. 1. School is a fine place to learn to read character. Char- acter is most often discovered in the face. The face is said to be the index of the soul, and the soul is that part of us which lives after death. How sad a thing is death, too! Man knows he will live in the hereafter, yet death is seldom welcome. However, we do welcome spring in all its freshness and beauty, though summer is really love- lier with its fruits and ripening grains. Some grains ripen earlier than others. Wheat is usually harvested late in the summer or in the early autumn, but some grains ripen as early as June. This latter kind is sowed in the autumn, and the seed lies in the ground all winter. 2. I watched two squirrels busy laying up their winter store. It was interesting to see them at work, and equally inter- esting it was to note how the recent blighting frosts had tinged the forest leaves. They were now lovely gold and brown and purple, and silently floated down at each pass- ing gust. Some leaves hang on longer than others, even until late the next spring. The new buds then push them off. Botany teaches us that before a leaf falls there is al- ways a new leaf in bud-form, to take the old one's place. Botany is a very fascinating study besides being a very useful one. The use of a powerful microscope is necessary in the study of botany. A microscope enables one to dis- cover many wonderful facts. 3. Half our woes are imaginary. The power of the imagina- tion is very great, and some people have been made in- sane through its agency. Children, of all people, are most imaginative. They can believe whatever is told them. Some people delight to frighten children with stories of ghosts and goblins and witches. Ichabod Crane believed SELECTION OF MATERIAL 225 in ghosts and witches. It seems strange what queer be- liefs were held in olden times. It was no uncommon thing for a person to be accused of being a witch, and ducking was one of the means of punishment for the crime. If a woman was a great scold, she was often ducked. Gallop- ing Dick, the outlaw, once saved a woman from a duck- ing, and sorry he was afterward that he had done so. She turned out to be a regular shrew, a termagant, and was too great a match for him. 2. Now write a paragraph on one of the following themes, in which the association of ideas joins each sen- tence to the one preceding, and yet in which the last three sentences have nothing to do with the topic : — 1. Goldsmith said that Johnson loved to use big words so well that were he to write a fable about little fishes he would make them "talk like whales." 2. I remember well how we made hay on the farm. 3. Oil poured on angry waves will calm them. 4. Did you ever watch a robin tapping the ground for a worm? 5. The contents of the small boy's pocket proved to be a motley collection. 6. David Copperfield said, "Peggotty's arms and cheeks are so red, I wonder that the birds don't peck them for apples." 7. It is not the victory but the fight that is worth while. 3. Next take one of the seven themes mentioned above, and write a paragraph in which one sentence grows from the preceding sentence by association of ideas, and in which all are clearly on the theme. Have a good sentence at the end of your paragraph. Scale of treatment. There is another condition that must be considered in the selection of material; it is the scale of treatment. Possibly no better illustration of this can be found than one that most of us are familiar with. About the fifth grade in the majority of schools, the pupils used to begin the study of geography with a thin 226 FORMS OF DISCOURSE little book. That book contained the names of the five great continents, the five oceans, a sHght discussion of the great countries of the world, and a bare mention of their products. A few large rivers were indicated on the maps, a few mountain ranges, and the capital cities. Grown a year older, the pupils were graduated from that beginner's little geography and entered a new field. Geography had grown up; it had become a much larger book, with many more maps and pictures and much more reading. In the little book only a few of the most imix)rtant matters were discussed; in this larger book, rivers before unknown crept across the page, unheard-of cities dotted the land, and new products were carried to market. Possibly an interest in distant peoples was aroused by this study, and some boy wished that he might know more about Japan. In that case, he could find one whole book devoted to this small country; or, yet more, he might get a large book telling only about the beautiful city of Yokohama. In that little book of childhood, there was only a short paragraph about Japan; in the grammar school geography there was a chapter; while the attractive volume he now has names a hundred large cities in the Island Empire, pictures several great mountain ranges, and numerous industries. The scale of treatment has changed. Now, if a pupil were to write but one paragraph upon the life of Washington, he could not include the many circumstances found in his United States History. He would mention Washington's connection with Braddock; his command of the army during the Revolution; and his selection to be the first President of the new nation. But Irving, who admired this great man so much, needed four large volumes to tell all he wished to say of George Washington. The second consideration, then. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 227 in selecting material is the range of the essay, and the consequent degree of thoroughness with which the sub- ject is to be treated; that is, its scale of treatment. EXERCISE 1. Make an analysis of the chapter on Letter- Writing, showing the chief divisions of the subject. 2. Make an outline for a paragraph on the subject of Letter- Writing, which you might write in answer to this question : What do you consider the most import- ant principles governing Letter- Writing? 3. Write out your complete answer to the above ques- tion in a well arranged paragraph of not more than two hundred words. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL Following the selection of material for an essay comes its arrangement. The same principles of Mass and Coherence in the whole that were studied under Nar- ration and Description guide here too; but the appli- cation of these principles to Exposition presents pecu- liar diflBculties because the material is so hard to grasp. Outline of an essay. Suppose the subject is " The Evils of War." The first paragraph might contain a general statement announcing the theme. Then these topics are to be discussed : — 1. War has a degrading effect on the morals of a nation. 2. Worse than the loss of life on the battle-field is the ter- rible suflFering of friends at home. 3. War is always attended with great loss of life. 4. Every new war is a backward step in man's progress in civilization. 5. Great loss of property is entailed in every war; and enor- mous debts are accumulated by the nations. 228 FORMS OF DISCOURSE If you ask yourself which of these topics is the most im- portant, you will soon see that the last is possibly of the very least consequence; and as you think it over you will come to the conclusion that hardly a worse arrangement could be made. Is there no device by which order can be obtained? It is difficult to picture distinctly the value and the relation of the different topics in Exposition. The most helpful suggestion regarding a method of making the ma- terial in some degree visible, capable of being grasped, is that each subdivision be placed on a separate card, and that the material, as it is gathered, be put upon the card containing the group to which it belongs. It is much like the game of word-building, or anagrams — this ordering of matter in an essay. If these letters, s-l-y-w-a-r-e, were together on a card, a person would find trouble in arranging them so that they spelled a word. If, however, he could cut them apart and move them about and arrange them in different ways, he would find that they really make the rather common word lawyers. So, in building the essay, the topic cards can be moved and rearranged in all possible ways, until last the writer finds the way in which the essay will ad vance in a clear and natural order. In exposition, where the whole attention of the reader should be given to the thought, the greatest care should be taken in making a plan. No person that has attained distinction in prose has worked without a plan. How clear a plan may be, can be easily seen in Macaulay*s essays; how logical and exact, in Burke*s orations. However beautiful a piece may be, however naturally one thought grows out of another, as though it could be no other way, be sure it is so because of some man's thought, because of careful planning. Webster planned an/ atV ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 229 his orations, Newman planned his essays, Carlyle planned his " Frederick the Great." Their works are not momentary inspirations; they are the result of fore- thought, long and painstaking. The absolute essential in the structure of an essay, that without which it will fail to arrive anywhere, that compared to which all fine writing is as nothing, — the absolute essential in every composition, — is the plan. The plan, or outline, of an essay may be made in two ways : — (1) Simple Outline, First, it may be simply a list of headings that will be treated in the essay. One could analyze the chapter on Letter- Writing in this book and find the outline upon which it was probably written. It falls into five parts, as follows : — 1. The Conventions of Letter- Writing. 2. Business Correspondence. 3. Friendly Correspondence. 4. Society Correspondence. 5. General Suggestions. By analysis one would find that each of these major headings was subdivided into several topics for detailed treatment. For example, take *' The Conventions of Letter- Writing," which is divided into six sub-head- ings: — 1. The Conventions of Letter- Writing. a. Heading. b. Address. c. Salutation. d. Body. e. Complimentary Close. /. Signature. It is in this way that most of the outlines you are called upon to make for the contents of chapters in history. 230 FORMS OF DISCOURSE physical geography, or any similar subject would be made. Such an outline simply enumerates the topics that will be discussed. (2) Briefs. Second, the plan of an essay may do more than simply enumerate the bare headings, as above; it may state the attitude of the writer in regard to the topics to be discussed. In such a case the outline gives the gist of the whole essay in a few clear sen- tences. An outline of this kind is called a brief, because it is in reality a brief summary of the essay. Below are an outline and a brief of a chapter in a book on Thrift, by Samuel Smiles. The title of the chapter is " Little Things," and the greater part of it is filled with incidents illustrating the different topics. LITTLE THINGS 1. Value. 2. Knowledge. 8. Household. 4. Ruin. 5. Savings. Possibly the outline has given you some slight clew to what will be said in the chapter; certainly it is only the slenderest indication of what is to be found. Now notice the difference when the topic sentences which the author uses are substituted for the bare words in the outline. These indicate clearly the whole discussion, covering twenty pages. LITTLE THINGS 1. Human life consists of a succession of small events, each of which is comparatively unimportant ; and yet the hap- piness and success of every man depend upon the manner in which these small events are dealt with. 2. Accumulations of knowledge and experience of the most ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 231 valuable kind are the result of little bits of knowledge and experience carefully treasured up. 3. There are many things in the household, attention to which is indispensable to health and happiness. 4. Neglect of little things has ruined many fortunes and marred the best of enterprises. 5. All savings are made up of little things. An outline, no matter what the type, should be uni- form in style. By this is meant that if the outline is for the greater part a simple enumeration of headings, it should be so the whole way through. It would break the method to introduce into such an outline one head- ing consisting of a complete sentence. Similarly, if the outline starts in brief form, it should continue so. The following is not good. The theme is, " Avoid whatever tends to lessen vitality." These are the head- ings:— 1. Tobacco. 2. The drinking habit is to be set down as a great waste of vitality. 3. Lack of air. 4. Worry. 5. Sound digestion as a fundamental in vitality. 6. Anger. 7. Overwork. 8. Of sleep. 9. The bath. Moreover, an outline should be made with a proper regard for Mass. A good start and a strong finish are qualities that recommend an essay or an outline. It will be found in practice that pupils gain much more power when they make their plans in brief form rather than in outline form. The brief compels thought; it is not a hap-hazard catching at the few scattered headings that may dodge into consciousness. Headings 232 FORMS OF DISCOURSE must be seized and examined; their bearing on the whole must be studied before they can be formed into the per- fect shape that fits exactly into the present structure — that is, into the finely formed sentences that make a brief. The formation of clear sentences that say just what should be said requires effort; but effort always is rewarded by an increase of power. EXERCISE 1. Make an outline consisting of five or six headings of a chapter in your history, your geography, your gram- mar, or some other text-book. Or make an outline of the chapter on Description in this book. 2. Make a good outline of the headings given on the theme, " Avoid whatever tends to lessen vitality." 3. Below are given a number of qualifications that would make Robert a valuable employee. Arrange them, having regard to uniformity and mass. Then write the letter of recommendation. 1. Always punctual. ^ 4. Has obliging manner. 2. Not afraid of work. 5. Scrupulously honest. 3. Quickness and neatness. 6. Uniformly courteous. 7. Determined to succeed. 4. Burke, in discussing the theme, " The spirit of liberty among the American colonies arose from several causes," used the following subdivisions: — 1. Form of government. 2. Distance from the mother country. 3. Education. 4. Slavery in one portion of the country. 5. Religion. 6. Descent from liberty-loving Englishmen. Rewrite this in the form of a brief, by your arrangement placing the emphasis on important matters. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 233 5. Complete the following plan for an essay, by filling in the subheadings. Where will you place the most important subdivision under each topic? THE VALUE OF PUBLIC PLAYGROUNDS Introduction: giving the occasion for writing an essay on this topic. Body: I. Physical Development of Children, a. b. n. Mental Training of Children. a. b. in. Moral Training of Children. a. b. Conclusion: A higher type of citizenship is developed by the equality taught on our public playgrounds. 6. Write a brief of at least five headings upon the subject, " What the High School has done for me." Arrange so that important matters have positions of importance. 7. Choose one of the following subjects and make a brief for an essay of eight paragraphs: — 1. The purpose of reading. 2. Why one should own his library. 3. The necessity of exercise. 4. The difficulties in chicken-raising. 5. The value of using a plan. 6. The influence upon young people produced by the comic section of many newspapers. 8. After you have completed your plan for an essay upon one of the many subjects assigned, write one para- graph of the essay, but not the first one. Be sure that 2S4 FORMS OF DISCOURSE you stick to the topic of the paragraph, and that you do not run over into matter that belongs in another paragraph. (Note. Before leaving this work, it would be well to work out at least three more subjects. Select your own subjects or choose them from the list at the end of the chapter.) Paragraphs in an essay. When the plan for an essay has been completed, one half the work has been done, and that the more difficult half. The next thing is the consideration of individual paragraphs. Each topic in a brief will require for its complete expression a para- graph, or, if important, several paragraphs. Really people think with paragraphs as units, not with sentences. When one says, ** Trade schools mean the elevation of labor," the hearer at once thinks of a number of ways in which the trade school will benefit those engaged in the industries. This group of thoughts on a single topic makes a thought-paragraph; and, when expressed, it is a paragraph in composition. We must attend now, not to the essay as a whole, but to the formation of clear, strong paragraphs. It is not necessary now to define Unity; the need is rather to notice the offenses against it that frequently occur. In paragraphs, as in whole compositions, too much may be included, or not enough. The result of the first fault is a very long paragraph, and of the second fault a short paragraph. A long paragraph is treacherous, and very often leads a writer into violations of this principle of Unity. When one begins to write, many thoughts crowd in pell-mell. Impressions, which come and go, we know not how or why, are the only products of many minds. Impres- sions, not thoughts carefully considered and shaped into ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL 235 forms of strength and beauty, make up the mixed con- fusion frequently called a paragraph. And this confu- sion continues until the writer has said all that he knows upon the subject, often material for three or four para- graphs. This tendency to string together a whole essay in one long paragraph is often the cause of violations of Unity. The other danger lies in the short paragraph. If the writer has not said all he has to say upon the topic, his thought runs over into the next paragraph. All of the thought-paragraph should appear in one division on the page. This error is not so common as the former. Ex- amples of each are shown in the following paragraphs : — Erect carriage is another of the characteristics which distin- guish the human species from all other animals, including the ape, by which this position is but rarely assumed, and then accidentally and unnaturally. Everything in the human skeleton is calculated to insure a vertical posture. In the first place, the head articulates with the vetebral column at a point so situated that, when this ver- tebral column is erect, the head, by means of its own weight, remains supported in equilibrium. Besides this, the shape of the head, the direction of the face, the position of the eye, and the form of the nostrils all require that man should walk erect on two feet. J. J. Rousseau was, therefore, very far from right when he contended that man was born to go on all fours. The following paragraph is taken from an article entitled " The Seashore." It shows the lack of an out- line: — The wear of the sea is but little seen on the rocky shores of Great Britain, and still less so where the coast is low and flat, and the shore is very extensive and the water is shallow for a long distance. In fact, on many of these flat shores, instead of erosion taking place, the sea is adding to the land by deposit- ing. This is particularly the case at the entrance of great, 236 FORMS OF DISCOURSE and of many small rivers. Their mud collects in the shallows at their mouths, and is added to by sand and shingle, so that land grows seaward, instead of the reverse. The seashore is then, usually, uninviting and often consists of large mud flats. Again, in some localities, where much sand collects on the sur- face of the rock forming the seashore, it may be "quick" in many places. The rising tide gets under the sand, which sud- denly becomes like so much sand and water, and the falling tide leaves it hard for a while. The ordinary condition of a sandy shore is either that of a number of slightly rounded stretches of sand, with drainage-streams between them, or it is pretty hard, readily dug into, and marked on the surface by ripples. The ripple-mark on sand always strikes the ob- server; it represents little ripple-like waves, wonderfully regu- lar, and each has a ridge and a valley. They are very lasting, but disappear on the slightest movement of the wet sand as the tide comes in. These little ridges and valleys are not found when the water covers the sand at a considerable depth, but they are especially seen between high and low spring-tide limit. Such marks can be made, artificially, with sand, for ihstance, on the bottom of a large basin. If some sand is placed on the bottom, and water be poured in, and the edge of the basin be pushed, a to-and-fro movement of the water will occur, and it will be continued down to the sand. As the mo- tion ceases, the sand will be seen to collect in ridges, side by side, and they will be perfect when the motion stops. Mo- tion of the sea-water in one direction over soft sand will not produce ripple-marks well, but a slight to-and-fro movement will do it to perfection. The remedy for such confusion as is here illustrated is careful tjiinking; and a great assistance to careful think- ing is a plan. Before a word is written, think through the whole essay, get clearly the purpose of each paragraph in the development of the whole. Then write just what the paragraph was intended to include, and no more. More will be suggested, because the parts of a whole essay are all closely related; but that more belongs somewhere else. MASS 237 EXERCISE Make a brief for five paragraphs on each of two of the following subjects. Then write the second and last paragraphs of one of the briefs. Be sure not to include any material that belongs in another paragraph. 1. Saving Money. 2. The Gypsy Moth (or some other pest). 3. My Purpose in Going to College. 4. Some Ways in Which Girls Earn Money. 5. An Eight-Hour Day for all Workers. MASS In a paragraph. When the material has been carefully sifted out, and it is known just what each paragraph is to do in the whole essay, the form of the different paragraphs is to be considered. Every paragraph should be so ar- ranged that the words that catch the attention shall be words of importance. When a person glances down a page, his eye rests upon the beginning and the end of each paragraph. A reader going rapidly through an article to get what he wants does not read every word; he knows that he will be directed to the contents of each paragraph by the first and the last sentence. If a writer considers his readers, if he desires to arrange his para- graph so that it will be most effective, he will have at these points such sentences as will accurately indicate the contents of the paragraph and the trend of the dis- cussion; and he will form these sentences so well that they will deserve the attention that is given them. What, then, are the words that deserve the distinction of opening and closing a paragraph? Generally the first sentence announces the subject of discussion. In a para- graph, when the subject is simply announced without giving any indication as to the drift of the discussion. 238 FORMS OF DISCOURSE the conclusion of the discussion is usually stated in the last sentence. Burke opens a paragraph in which he discusses the rapid growth of the American colo- nies. The first thing we have to consider with regard to the na- ture of the object is the number of people in the colonies. He concludes the paragraph with — Your children do not grow faster from infancy to man- hood than they [the inhabitants of the colonies] spread from families to communities, and from villages to nations. In other cases, and this is more common, the opening sentence of a paragraph states the complete theme, the conclusion at which the paragraph will arrive. Then the concluding sentence is usually a repetition of the open- ing, or topic, sentence; but it may be one of the sub- topics used to establish the proposition that begins the paragraph. In most short paragraphs, however, the topic sentence is announced but once; and it is some- times found at the beginning of the paragraph, some- times at the end. It is, however, a safe rule for a begin- ner always to state the theme in the last sentence — for the first time, if the paragraph is short, but restate it if the paragraph is long. Sentences of importance open and close a paragraph, EXERCISE 1. Below are given sentences opening and closing paragraphs. In the first group are sentences in which the subject is made known at once, but in which the attitude of the writer does not appear until the second sentence. In the second group, the topic is announced in the first sentence and repeated in the last. Write one paragraph for each case. MASS 239 1. Many birds furnish plumage to supply the demands of fashion. . . . The reckless slaughter of our song-birds will soon lead to their extermination. 2. Laws governing the sale of the cigarette have been made in many states. . . . These laws should be strictly enforced. 3. It is a great problem, as life goes on, as duties become more defined, and as one becomes more and more conscious of the shortness of life, what the duty of a cultivated and open-minded man is in regard to general reading. ... I am inclined to think as one grows older, one may read less; it is impossible to keep up with the vast output of litera- ture, and it is hard enough to find time to follow even the one or two branches in which one is specially interested. II 1. Such we believe to have been the character of the Puritans. . . . Yet when all circumstances are taken into considera- tion, we do not hesitate to pronounce them a brave, a wise, an honest, and a useful body. 2. We have all said a hundred times over that habit is second nature — repeating thoughtlessly the acute remark of some nameless and forgotten philosopher, some Peckham So- crates or some Bloomsbury Aristotle, who first invented, no doubt, that now historical phrase. . . . Habit is that which by use has become natural to us; nature is habit handed down from our ancestors, and ingrained bodily in the very structure of our brains and muscles and nervous systems. 8. The world needs good men. . . . For such men as these, who have contributed to the greatest and best achievements of the age, who have given up their liberty and lives for the good of a noble cause, the world has always a need and a place. 4. The reader or the spectator who would fully enjoy As You Like It must accept it in the mood in which it was con- ceived. ... He feels himself set free from a world of hard facts. He is in Arden. 2. Below you will find a short brief. After the Intro- 240 FORMS OF DISCOURSE duction stating the occasion for writing the essay, which may have been a dispute you had with a friend or some item in a paper or magazine, the essay divides into two main parts. Each major division is subdivided. Study the brief carefully ; then write the complete essay, follow- ing the methods of explanation indicated. THE VALUE OF TRADE SCHOOLS ^ 1. Introduction (a short narrative paragraph giving the occasion). Part I. Advantages to the Individual % 2. Topic sentence : High school training to-day tends in one direction, toward the college. [Develop the paragraph by the use of repetition and details illustrating the topic] Closing sentence: Then may he choose whatever occu- pation his taste and talents call for, and the professions will not be needlessly overcrowded by those ill-fitted for such courses. ^ 3. Topic sentence: There are many workers to be had, but they are unskilled. The demand everywhere is for the skilled workman, not simply the "hired hand." [Develop by details illustrating the statement.] Closing sentence: With the trained hand moving in accord with the quickened brain, our workmen will be- come masters of their crafts. % 4. Topic sentence: Many a young man is discouraged from learning a trade by the galling treatment given to an apprentice. Also, he knows he must toil unrewarded for a long time for what is frequently only haphazard know- ledge. [Develop by repetition, using two sentences to repeat the first thought and two to repeat the second thought.] Closing sentence: He goes from his training with an intelligent understanding, ready to begin active, re- sponsible work at once and to ask in return for his labor a suitable recompense. ^ 5. Topic sentence: Ruskiu says, "He who works with his MASS 241 hands alone is a mechanic; he who works with his hands and brain is an artisan; but he who works with his hands, brain, and heart is an artist." [Develop by repetition, having one sentence to repeat each of the three subdivisions of the topic sentence.] Closing sentence: Surrounded by comfort and happi- ness, rightfully employed, "his pleasure growing out of his occupation like a fruitful flower," to what heights of development may our workman not attain ! Part II. Advantages to the Nation ^ 1. Topic sentence: The stigma now attached to taking up a trade will be wiped out. [Develop by details of illustration.] Closing sentence: The trades, as well as the professions, will be honored when we see labor, dignified, taking its rightful place, side by side, with capital; when we see labor, having earned its title to respect and considera- tion, no longer considered the portion of ignorant masses. ^ 2. Topic sentence: The work of the individual is the work of the nation. [Develop by repetition and comparison. Use Germany.] Closing sentence: The stamp of "Made in America " should then stand for all that is honest, excellent, and desirable, if 3. Topic Sentence: Ignorance leads to poverty, and poverty to crime. [Develop by repetition.] Closing sentence: Put a tool in a child's hand and teach him how to use it; half the misery and hardship of life is overcome. ^ 4. Topic sentence: In our trade schools lies the nation's great hope of a truer democracy. It is not in lowering, but in elevating, the masses that equality is found. It is not in the work, but in the worker, that success lies. [Develop by obverse.] Closing sentence: We shall come to believe firmly that it is man who makes the occupation, and not occupation the man. In a complete essay. — The beginning. In long 242 FORMS OF DISCOURSE essays of several paragraphs or of many pages, the open- ing paragraph has the same relation to the whole that the opening sentence has to the paragraph. In most essays the theme is announced in the opening paragraph. Below are four paragraphs found at the beginning of essays on the topics named. Even if the subjects were not given, the reader would know what they were, so perfectly do they announce the themes: — LITTLE THINGS Neglect of small things is the rock on which the great ma- jority of the human race have split. Human life consists of a succession of small events, each of which is comparatively unimportant, and yet the happiness and success of every man depend upon the manner in which these small events are dealt with. Character is built up on little things — little things well and honorably transacted. The success of a man in business depends on his attention to little things. The comfort of a household is the result of small things well ar- ranged and duly provided for. Good government can only be accomplished in the same way — by well-regulated provisions for doing the Httle things. — Smiles. ANIMAL COMMUNITIES AND SOCIAL LIFE Man is commonly called the social animal, but he is not the only one to which this term may be applied. There are many others which possess the social or communal life. A moment's thought will bring to mind the familiar facts of the communal life of the honey-bee and the ants. And there are many other kinds of animals, not so well known to us, that live in communities or colonies, and live a life which in a greater or less degree is communal or social. In this con- nection we may use the term communal for the life of those animals in which the division of labor is such that the indi- vidual is dependent for its continual existence on the com- munity of the whole. The term social life would refer to a lower degree of mutual aid and mutual dependence. — David Starr Jordan. MASS 243 THE CHOICE OF THE COLLEGE WOMAN Are college women happier or unhappier than other people? This is the rather delicate and dangerous question I propose to raise. The answer is easy, but the reasons for the answer are more subtle and difficult. Inasmuch as men's answers are occasionally wrong and women's answers are invariably right, while men's reasons are predominantly right and women's reasons are occasionally wrong, I do not hope to change the opinion of any of you about the answer to this question; but even if you all reject my answer, I may still hope to interest you in the reasons by which it is supported. — William DeWitt Hyde. BOOKS The thing to determine, then, as one's brain hardens or softens is what the object of reading is. It is not, I venture to think, what used to be called the pursuit of knowledge. Of course if a man is a professional teacher or a professional writer, he must read for professional purposes, just as a coral insect must eat to enable it to secrete the substances out of which it builds its branching house. But I am not here speaking of professional studies, but of general reading. I suppose there are three motives for reading — the first, purely pleasurable; the second, intellectual; the third, what may be called ethical. As to the first, a man who reads at all, reads just as he eats, sleeps, and takes exercise, because he likes it; and that is probably the best reason that can be given for the practice. — A. C. Benson. Instead of announcing the theme at the very begin- ning of an essay, sometimes we find other methods used. In essays of some length, there may be an account of the occasion that led to the composition. Macaulay has used this in opening his essay on Milton. He says: — Towards the close of the year 1823, Mr. Lemon, deputy keeper of the state papers, in the course of his researches among the presses of his office, met with a large Latin manuscript. With it were found the corrected copies of the foreign de- 244 FORMS OF DISCOURSE spatches written by Milton, while he filled the office of Sec- retary, and several papers relating to the Popish trials and the Rye-House Plot. Lamb opens one of his essays with the following para- graph: — The casual sight of an old Play Bill, which I picked up the other day — I know not by what chance it was preserved so long — tempts me to call to mind a few of the Players, who make the principal figures in it. It presents the cast of parts in the "Twelfth Night," at the old Drury Lane Theatre two- and-thirty years ago. The following is by Agnes Repplier on " Children's Poets": — Now and then I hear it affirmed by sad-voiced pessimists, whispering in the gloom, that people do not read as much poetry in our day as they did in our grandfathers', that this is dis- tinctly the era of prose, and that the poet is no longer, as Shelley claimed, the unacknowledged legislator of the world. . . . Yet what matters it, after all, while around us, on every side, in school-rooms and nurseries, in quiet corners and by cheerful fires, the children are reading poetry? — reading it with a joyous enthusiasm and an absolute surrendering of spirit which we can all remember, but can never feel again? So a pupil might write on the tenth of February: — The day that marks the anniversary of the birth of Abra- ham Lincoln is almost here. What better subject could employ our time than a brief survey of the life of this first American? In the case of accurate discussion, such as is found in text-books, or in essays that are written to give scienti- fic information, the composition may open with defini- tions of the terms that will be used. This method is often' employed by debaters, where accuracy and clear understanding is necessary. MASS 245 In the next paragraph is found a careful definition of the word essay by Professor Winchester in his discus- sion, " The New Essay." Very different literary forms have been designated by the common name Essay. In strictness, it is to Montaigne that we owe the name and the thing. His Essais, excellently translated by John Florio in 1583, were at once popular in England; and Bacon, fourteen years later, borrowed their title for his fa- mous little bundles of apothegms. This influence of the Essais, continuing into the next century, increased with the liking for all things French after the Restoration and is attested by Cotton's new translation in 1680. . . . For two hundred years, indeed, many excellent prose papers of moderate length, written upon weighty themes, political, philosophical, and critical, had appeared as prefaces, letters, pamphlets, and short treatises ; but it was the new Reviews and Magazines, founded at the beginning of the nineteenth century, that produced the mod- ern essay. Now, for the first time, we have that extended dis- cussion of some one theme, popular in manner yet accurate in statement, and admitting high literary finish, to which we now confine the name of essay. EXERCISE 1. Write an opening paragraph on one of the following subjects, in which you state the theme and enumerate the chief divisions of your subject. State the heads in the order in which they are to be taken up later on in the essay. 1. The Benefits of Children's Playgrounds. 2. The Requisites of a Good OflSce-Boy. 3. What the Telephone Has Done for the Country. 4. The Future Uses of the Aeroplane. 5. Public Baths a Necessity. 2. Write an opening paragraph on any one of the fol- lowing subjects, in which you give the occasion for 246 FORMS OF DISCOURSE writing. The occasion, of course, will narrate some cir- cumstance. 1. The Dangers of Football. 2. The Good the Humane Society Is Doing. 3. The Benefit of Wireless Telegraphy to Ocean Travel. 4. The Suppression of Lynching. 5. The Intelligence of Some Animals. 3. Write an opening paragraph on one of the follow- ing subjects, in which you start with a definition of what you mean by your subject. Notice that in every topic given here there is a second meaning; it is this one, not the obvious one, that you will discuss. 1. Our Castles in Spain. 2. A Plea for Tramps. 3. Axes to Grind. 4. When My Ship Comes In. 5. A Study of Wall-Flowers. 6. The Results of Grafting. 7. Acres of Diamonds. 8. A Good Safety-valve. 9. Sponges. The end. In the long essay, as in the paragraph, the end is even more important than the beginning. In all essays, where possible, the closing paragraph or para- graphs should contain a strong, clear statement of the theme, the conclusion of the whole matter. So true is this that if one wished to know the theme of an essay, he would be justified in looking at its concluding paragraph to find it. It is evident from the last paragraph of the essay on Milton that Macaulay never intended it to be only a criticism of his poetry, though he has devoted many pages to this discussion. Macaulay admired Milton the MASS 247 man even more than Milton the poet. Here is just the last sentence: — Nor do we envy the man who can study either the life or the writings of the great poet and patriot without aspiring to emulate, not indeed the sublime works with which his genius has enriched our literature, but the zeal with which he labored for the public good, the fortitude with which he endured every private calamity, the lofty disdain with which he looked down on temptations and dangers, the deadly hatred which he bore to bigots and tyrants, and the faith which he so sternly kept with his country and with his fame. Notice that he says " poet and patriot " — patriot last; and then writes " not, indeed, the sublime works," but the zeal, the fortitude, the lofty disdain, the deadly hatred, and the faith, which characterized the patriot. The following are the opening and closing paragraphs of an essay entitled " The Smell of Earth," by G. Clarke Nuttall. Notice how well they fit together. A bright fine evening after a day of rain is one of Nature's compensations. The air is peculiarly fresh and sweet, as though the rain had washed all evil out of it. The mind, relieved from the depressing influence of continuous rain, is exhilarated, and, above all, the strong smell of the earth rises up with a scent more pleasing than many a fragrant essence. In the town, indeed, this earthy smell is often obscured by the bricks and mortar which cover the land, and by the stronger, less whole- some odors of human life; but in the country it has full sway, and fills the whole air with its presence. Even a slight shower, particularly after drought, is suflBcient to bring out the sweet famiUar smell of the land and thrust it upon our notice. This, then, is the history of the smell of earth as scientists have declared it unto us, and its recital serves further to point the moral that the most obvious, the most commonplace things of everyday life — things that we have always taken simply for granted without question or interest — may yet have a story hidden beneath them. Like signposts in a foreign land. 248 FORMS OF DISCOURSE they may be speaking, though in a language not always com- prehended by us, of the most fascinating regions — regions we may altogether miss to our great loss, if we neglect igno- rantly the directions, instead of learning to comprehend them. In conclusion of this discussion of Mass I would say, get your essay going as soon as you can, and stop when you have finished; by so doing you will have important matters in those places that will emphasize them. Shun the allurements of high-sounding introductions and con- clusions. An essay should be done much as a business man does business. He does not want the gentleman who calls on him during business hours to bow and scatter compliments before he takes up the matter that brought him there; nor does he care to see him swaying on the door knob after the business is finished. To the business at once, and leave off when you have done. Introductions, exordiums, perorations, and conclusions are worthless, unless they are in reality a part of the discussion and necessary to the understanding of the whole. EXERCISE Using the same subjects you chose in the last exercise, write strong closing paragraphs, stating clearly your conclusions regarding the three matters you chose for discussion. COHERENCE Coherence is the second of the principles of structure that have to do with the arrangement of material in a paragraph or an essay. It is a difficult principle to put into practice. For one can make a beginning and an end ; he can select his materials so that there is unity; but to make all the parts stick together, to form and arrange COHERENCE 249 the sentences so that one grows naturally from the pre- ceding and leads into the next, requires nice adjustment of parts, and rewriting again and again. In a paragraph. How essential coherence in a para- graph is, simply to make the thought easy to grasp, may be seen by taking a paragraph to pieces and mix- ing up its sentences. This paragraph is about the origin and meaning of the common term latitude. The first and last sentences here are the first and last as the paragraph was written; the others are mixed up. We start with the poles as marking the line about which the earth turns. We then imagine circles parallel to this, a degree apart, and growing smaller in size, all the way to either pole. By their aid any point on the earth can be described as to its distance from the middle, or equatorial, line, and the distance can be plotted on a globe. The circle midway be- tween the poles, dividing the surface into halves, we agree to call the equator. A degree of latitude covers about 69 miles. We call these parallels of north or south latitude, and number each way, from equator to pole. When this method is used, distances are indicated in degrees, minutes, and seconds. It is a trifle longer near the poles than near the equator, because there the curve of the surface is less. Coherence is gained in four ways: first, by the order in which the sentences are arranged; second, by repeti- tion of dominant ideas; third, by the use of connec- tives; and fourth, by the use of parallel constructions for parallel ideas. (i) Order of sentences. Material that has been se- lected with a careful regard for the principle of Unity is all informed with one idea. Yet, though one thought runs through it all and unites it, each part does not stand in equally close relation to every other, or to the conclusion. One does not pass from first to last of a paragraph or of an essay without taking the interme- 250 FORMS OF DISCOURSE diate steps, any more than one passes from bank to bank of a stream without using the stepping stones. In the paragraph about latitude, the starting place is the poles, the end is the length of a degree of lati- tude. It is necessary for an understanding of this to proceed step by step from the first thought to the last in a definite order. The order in which it was written is the necessary order: — We start with the poles, as marking the line about which the earth turns. The circle midway between the poles, dividing the surface into halves, we agree to call the equator. We then imagine circles parallel to this, a degree apart and growing smaller in size, all the way to either pole. We call these parallels of north or south latitude, and number each way from equator to pole. By their aid any point on the earth can be described as to its distance from the middle, or equato- rial, line, and the distance can be plotted on a globe. When this method is used, distances are indicated in degrees, min- utes, and seconds. A degree of latitude covers about 69 miles. It is a trifle longer near the poles than near the equator, be- cause there the curve of the surface is less. {2) Repetition. When the order has been determined, and each thought seems to spring from the thought be- fore, the next problem is to transmit the force of one sen- tence on to the next, with its strength undiminished. To bind them together, one sentence must grow out of some word or phrase in the preceding sentence; then they can be firmly locked together by the repetition^ a little modi- fied each time, of some preceding phrase. Notice how Van Dyke has done this in the short paragraph that follows: — Think, in the second place, of the duty which men of moral principles owe to society in regard to the evils which corrupt and degrade it. Of the existence of these evils we need to be reminded again and again, just because we are comparatively COHERENCE 251 clean and decent and upright people. Men who live an orderly life are in great danger of doing nothing else. We wrap our virtue up in little bags of respectability and keep it in the store- house of a safe reputation. But if it is genuine virtue, it is worthy of a better use than that. It is fit, nay it is designed and de- manded, to be used as salt, for the purifying of human life. Here " men of moral principle " changes to " clean and decent and upright people," and " men who live an or- derly life." This same idea is presented by the word " virtue " in the next two sentences; and is repeated in the last by the pronoun "it." Another paragraph illustrating the same principle of binding sentences together by well-planned repetition is the following. Will you pick out the words that lock the sentences together? The remedy for the constant excess of party spirit lies, and lies alone, in the courageous independence of the individual citizen. The only way, for instance, to procure the party nomination of good men, is for every self-respecting voter to refuse to vote for bad men. In the medieval theology the devils feared nothing so much as the drop of holy water and the sign of the cross, by which they were exorcised. The evil spirits of party fear nothing so much as bolting and scratching. In hoc aigno vinces. If a farmer would reap a good crop, he scratches the weeds out of his field. If we would have good men upon the ticket, we must scratch bad men ofiF. If the scratching breaks down the party, let it break; for the success of the party by such means would break down the country. The evil spirits must be taught by means that they can understand. "Them fellers" — said the captain of a canal boat of his men — "them fellers never think you mean a thing until you kick *em. They feel that, and understand." — Curtis. To accomplish this steady advance from one sentence to the next, there must be careful attention to the choice and position of the words from which the following sen- tence is to spring. Such words cannot be indefinite. 252 FORMS OF DISCOURSE mushy words; they must be definite, firm words. More- over, they must not be buried out of sight by a mass of unimportant matters; they must be so placed that they are unhindered, free to push forward the thought toward its ultimate conclusion. This often requires inversion in the sentence. That phrase which is the source of the next sentence must be thrown up into a prominent posi- tion; and it is usually pressed toward the end of the sen- tence, nearer to the sentence that is its consequence. Well chosen words in well selected positions are the strong links that bind the chain of related sentences into one whole united paragraph. (3) Use of connectives. Not all sentences permit such clear reference as in these quoted paragraphs. Still, where the thought is logical and clear, the reference is never missed; the binding words are important words, and they occupy prominent positions. There is, how- ever, a whole group of words whose function is to make the reference sure. They are pronouns. Pronouns re- fer back and point forward. Their careful use is the commonest method of making sure of reference, and so of binding sentences together. The ones in common use are this, that, the former, the latter: the relatives who, which, and that; and the personal pronouns he, she, and it. To these may be added some adverbs : here, there, hence, whence, now, and then. The binding force of these words is manifest in every paragraph of com- position. The following paragraph, from Burke's speech on Conciliation with the Colonies, illustrates the use of pronouns as words referring back, and binding the whole into one inseparable unit: — As to the wealth which the colonies have drawn from the sea by their fisheries, you had all that matter fully opened COHERENCE 253 at your bar. You surely thought those acquisitions of value, for they seemed even to excite your envy; and yet the spirit by which that enterprising employment has been exercised ought rather, in my opinion, to have raised your esteem and admira- tion. And pray. Sir, what in the world is equal to it ? Pass by the other parts, and look at the manner in which the people of New England have of late carried on the whale fishery. Whilst we follow them among the tumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into the deepest frozen recesses of Hudson's Bay and Davis's Straits, whilst we are looking for them beneath the Arctic circle, we hear that they have pierced into the opposite region of polar cold, that they are at the anti- podes, and engaged under the frozen Serpent of the south. Falkland Island, which seemed too remote and romantic an object for the grasp of national ambition, is but a stage and resting-place in the progress of their victorious industry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more discouraging to them than the accumulated winter of both the poles. We know that whilst some of them draw the line and strike the harpoon on the coast of Africa, others run the longitude and pursue their gigantic game along the coast of Brazil. No sea but what is vexed by their fisheries; no climate that is not witness to their toils. Neither the perseverance of Holland, nor the activity of France, nor the dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterprise ever carried this most perilous mode of hardy industry to the ex- tent to which it has been pushed by this recent people; a people who are still, as it were, but in the gristle, and not yet hard- ened into the bone of manhood. When I contemplate these things; when I know that the colonies in general owe little or nothing to any care of ours, and that they are not squeezed into this happy form by the constraints of watchful and sus- picious government, but that, through a wise and salutary neglect, a generous nature has been suffered to take her own way to perfection; when I reflect upon these effects, when I see how profitable they have been to us, I feel all the pride of power sink, and all presumption in the wisdom of human contrivances melt and die away within me. My rigor relents, I pardon something to the spirit of liberty." Another group of words that give coherence to a para- graph is conjunctions. They indicate the relation be- 254 FORMS OF DISCOURSE tween sentences, and they point the direction of the new sentence. The common relations between sentences in- dicated by conjunctions are coordinative, adversative, conditional, concessive, and illative. Each young writer has usually but one word, at the most two words, in his vocabulary to express each of these relations. He knows and, huU if, althoughy and therefore. Every person should learn from a grammar the whole hst; for no class of words indicates clear thinking so immistakably as con- junctions. Two words of advice should be given regarding the use of conjunctions. If the thought all leads one way, if the direction is perfectly clear, there is no need of conjunc- tions. It is when the course of the discussion is winding, when the road is not direct, when the reader may lose the way without these guides, that conjunctions should be used. Moreover, conjunctions are an annoyance when not needed. Just as guideposts along a road where there is no chance to leave the direct path are useless, and their recurrence is a cause of vexation, so it is with un- necessary conjunctions. They attract the attention to themselves, and so draw it from the thought. The first caution is. Do not tise conjunctions unless needed. In the following, the repetition of and is unnecessary and annoying: — Six shillings a week does not keep body and soul together very unitedly. They want to get away from each other when there is only such a very slight bond as that between them; and one day, I suppose, the pain and the dull monotony of it all had stood before her eyes plainer than usual, and the mock- ing spectre had frightened her. She had made one last appeal to friends, but, against the chill wall of their respectability, the voice of the erring outcast fell unheeded; and then she had gone to see her child — held it in her arms and kissed it, in a weary, dull sort of way, and without betraying any par- COHERENCE 255 ticular emotion of any kind, and had left it, after putting into its hand a penny box of chocolate she had bought it, and afterwards, with her last few shillings, had taken a ticket and come down to Goring. The other caution is : When possible^ put the conjunc- tion that connects the two sentences into the body of the sentence, rather than at its beginning. In this way its binding power is increased. This rule would tend to stop the use of and or but at the beginning of a sentence. Rarely is and needed in such a place. If the thought goes straight forward, — and it must do so if and correctly expresses the relation, — there is usually no gain in its use. However, there are times when coordinate thoughts are so important, and the expression of the coordination is so important, that a sentence beginning with and is the only adequate means of expressing it. Be very sure that there is need for every and that you use. The same caution may be given about but. But indicates an ab- rupt turn in the thought. Is there such a contrast in the thought? If so, use the word needed. Some persons go so far as to say that these words should never begin a sen- tence. This is not true. However, when coordinative and adversative relations are to be expressed, it is more pleasing if some variety can be obtained; and the union is closer if the conjunction is placed in the body of the sentence. This requires the use of other words besides and and but. Also, in like manner, besides, too, never- theless, however, after all, for all that, should be as familiar as the two overworked words, and and but. Look for ways to bind sentences in the middle rather than at the end. (4) Parallel construction. Another method of secur- ing coherence in a paragraph is by the use of parallel construction for parallel thoughts. By parallel construe- 256 FORMS OF DISCOURSE tion is meant a similar arrangement of the principal ele- ments of diferent sentences. If, for example, subordinate clauses precede principal clauses in one sentence, they shall also in the other; if they follow in one, they shall follow in the other. If an active voice is used in one, it shall be used in the other; if the predicate goes before the subject in one, it shall in the other. The use of parallel construction frequently demands repetition of forms and even of identical words and phrases. It is very effective in giving clearness to a paragraph and in securing coherence of its parts. Notice in the following paragraph that the order has been changed in the fourth sentence. This is evidently done to avoid the danger of monotony. Rewrite this sentence with a parallel construction, and determine for yourself which is clearer and more forceful. (1) If we wish to know the other planets in our solar sys- tem, or the arrangement of the fixed stars, we study astro- nomy. (2) If we would learn the laws and uses of electricity, we turn to physics. (3) If we desire knowledge of the ancient history of our earth, of the growth of its lands and of the ani- mals and plants of long ago, we study geology. (4) Should our object be to understand animals or plants in a thorough way, zoology or botany would be our theme. (5) But our purpose is to know the earth as a whole. (6) Land and sea, air and rock, beast and tree combine to form it; and we give some study to each, not to know all about any one, but to see how each con- trols the rest, and how all work together. (7) This is the science of geography. (8) And because we deal with the natural earth and not with its pohtical provinces, we call our subject Physi- cal Geography. In his address on " The Pubhc Duty of Educated Men," Curtis says, — I know — no man better — how hard it is for earnest men to separate their country from their party, or their reUgion COHERENCE 257 from their sect. But nevertheless the welfare of the country is dearer tKan the mere victory of party, as truth is more pre- cious than the interest of any sect. You will hear this patriot- ism scorned as an impracticable theory, as the dream of a cloister, as the whim of a fool. But such was the folly of the Spartan Leonidas, staying with his three hundred the Persian horde and teaching Greece the self-reliance that saved her. Such was the folly of the Swiss Arnold von Winkelried, gather- ing into his own breast the host of Austrian spears, making his dead body the bridge of victory for his countrymen. Such was the folly of the American Nathan Hale, gladly risking the seeming disgrace of his name, and grieving that he had but one life to give for his country. Such are the beacon lights of a pure patriotism that burn forever in men's memories and answer each other through the illuminated ages. Would you wish to change one sentence of this? Read again the paragraph on the character of Milton, found on page 207. The following paragraph is from Van Dyke's sermon on Salt: — There is a loftier ambition than merely to stand high in the world. It is to stoop down and lift mankind a little higher. There is a nobler character than that which is merely incor- ruptible. It is the character which acts as an antidote and pre- ventive of corruption. Fearlessly to speak the words which bear witness to righteousness and truth and purity; patiently to do the deeds which strengthen virtue and kindle hope in your fellow-men; generously to lend a hand to those who are trying to climb upward; faithfully to give your support and your personal help to the efforts which are making to elevate and purify the social life of the world, — that is what it means to have salt in your character. And that is the way to make your life interesting and savory and powerful. The men that have been happiest, and the men that are the best remem- bered, are the men that have done good. The fifth sentence of this paragraph from Van Dyke illustrates perfectly the use of parallel construction in sentences. 258 FORMS OF DISCOURSE The commonest offenses against this principle of paral- lel construction in sentences are linking (l) an infinitive with a gerund, (2) a participle with a finite verb, (3) an active with a passive voice, (4) a phrase with a clause. The following are illustrations of these errors. Incorrect: You cannot persuade him to go and into buying what he does not want. Correct: You cannot persuade him to go and to buy what he does not want. Incorrect: Thus he spoke, and turning to the door. Correct: Thus he spoke, and turned to the door. Incorrect: The king began to force the collection of duties, and an army was sent by him to execute his wishes. Correct: The king began to force the collection of duties and serU an army to execute his wishes. Incorrect: He was resolved to use patience and that he would often exercise charity. Correct: He was resolved that he would use patience and that he would often exercise charity. Such sentences as the incorrect ones above are offen- sive to the ear; and were they as long as the sentences below, they would not be clear. However, Burke made no mistake in the use of parallel constructions; and these sentences of his illustrate how helpful the device may be: — 1. You cannot persuade them to bum their books of curious science; to banish their lawyers from their courts of laws; or to quench the lights of their assemblies by refusing to choose those persons who are best read in their privileges. 2. For though rebellion is declared, it is not proceeded against as such, nor have any steps been taken towards the appre- hension or conviction of any individual offender, either on our late or our former Address; but modes of public coercion have been adopted, and such as have much more resemblance to a sort of qualified hostility towards an independent power than the punishment of rebellious subjects. COHERENCE 259 3. My Resolutions, therefore, mean TO establish the equity and justice of a taxation of America by grant and not by imposition; TO MARK the legal competency of the colony Assemblies for the support of their government in peace, and for public aids in time of war; TO acknowledge that this legal competency has had a dutiful and beneficial ex- ercise; and that experience has shown the benefit of their grants, and the futility of Parliamentary taxation as a method of supply. In the second sentence Burke has used a passive voice when it would certainly be more elegant to use the ac- tive. " Is proceeded against " is surely awkward; but for uniformity and the resulting clearness he has re- tained the passive. In the last sentence the infinitives " to establish," " to mark," and " to acknowledge ** are in the same construction; they are objects of " mean." Then comes a change of form to show that the clauses " that this legal competency has had," etc., and " that experience has shown," etc., are in the same relation to the infinitive " to acknowledge." Though the last clause, by reason of the punctuation, looks correlative with the others, it is not related as object to the verb " mean," as the others are, but is the object of " to ac- knowledge." There could hardly be a better example of the value of parallel construction for the purpose of avoiding confusion and linking together parts that are related. Parallel construction is often used in balanced sen- tences. We call a sentence balanced when one part is balanced against another — noun against noun, adjective against adjective, phrase against phrase. In the follow- ing from Newman, the balancing of parts is admirable. Inebriated with the cup of insanity, and flung upon the stream of recklessness, she dashes down the cataract of non- sense and whirls amid the pools of confusion. 260 FORMS OF DISCOURSE Balanced sentences are especially suited to express contrast, where two ideas are sharply opposed to each other. Macaulay has this fine example: — She seems to have written about the Elizabethan age, be- cause she had read much about it ; she seems, on the other hand, to have read a little about the age of Addison, because she had determined to write about it. The danger in the use of balanced sentences is excess. Macaulay is very fond of brilliant contrasts; but is a very common word with him. In some cases the reader feels that for the sake of the striking contrast he has forced the truth. Balanced sentences are palpably arti- ficial, and should be used but sparingly. EXERCISE 1. Connect each group of sentences into one coherent sentence by the use of relative pronouns, keeping some one idea prominent: — 1. He met a number of people. He knew none of them. He was surprised somewhat at this. 2. There were rows of new houses. He had never seen them before. The old houses had disappeared. He had once known them well. 3. Annie began to cry, "Dilly, dilly, einy, einy, ducksey.'* The tune seems to be accepted as a national duck's anthem. They should have been soothed by it, but were not. 4. The colonel was a stout old man. He had seen service in several wars. His bearing was still distinguished in spite of the cane. He was now compelled to carry a cane. 5. The mirth of the company around the kitchen stove was occasioned by anecdotes. A swarthy little Frenchman was giving his love-adventures. He had a dry, weazen face and large whiskers. At the end of each story, there was one of those bursts of honest, unceremonious laughter. A man indulges in that kind of laughter in a viUage inn. COHERENCE 261 6. Scott's father used to be vexed with him for his wander- ing propensity. He shook his head. He fancied the boy would make nothing but a peddler. 2. Connect the following groups of sentences into one coherent sentence by the use of conjunctions, changing the order if need be and keeping prominent what you think should be important: — 1. Simplicity of style in writing is desirable. We must have a right understanding of the word. The side of a grain elevator has simplicity. It is not in itself admirable. 2. The simplicity of a flower is lovely. It has an interesting simplicity. Such simplicity is to be desired. 3. The child stopped crying. It knew it was of no use to cry. The matter was past mending. There was nothing to do but make the best of the situation. 4. Night was coming on. A storm threatened. It seemed at first best not to continue our journey. Uncle objected to our stopping. He urged us to push on to higher ground. The camping facilities were better there. 5. This evidently was the best course to pursue. We pressed on to the top of a hill. We were very tired. We found a gate to an enclosure. We quickly pitched our tent. The rain was beginning to fall heavily. 6. Lee had spent years of his professional life in Northern communities. He was always a close observer of men and things. He well understood the vast resources of that section; he knew the hardy, industrious character of its people. He justly weighed their strength as a military power. 3. Re-write the paragraphs you wrote on "The Value of Trade Schools," making a special effort to bind the sentences tight together. You may have to change the order many times, if you wish to make the relation between sentences close and clear and firm. First, think of the position of your strong words; then, watch carefully your connectives. 4. Distinguish between the parallel and balanced 262 FOUMS OF DISCOURSE structures. Tell why you call one balanced and another parallel. Also tell what office each performs in the sen- tence: — 1. A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew. 2. My country is the world; my countrymen, all mankind. 3. He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city. 4. There were gentlemen and there were seamen in the navy of Charles II. But the seamen were not gentlemen, and the gentlemen were not seamen. 5. The Puritan hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators. 6. With malice towards none, with charity for all, with firm- ness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us finish the work we are in. 7. If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink. 8. Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong men. 9. Over the meadows brown and bare. Over the harvest fields forsaken. Silent, soft, and slow descends the snow. 10. Philosophy we may learn from books; common sense from folks. 11. It is not luck, but labor, that makes men. Luck, says an American writer, is ever waiting for something to turn up; Labor, with keen eye and strong will, always turns up something. Luck lies in bed, and wishes the postman would bring him news of a legacy; Labor turns out at six, and with busy pen or ringing hammer lays the founda- tion of a competence. Luck whines; Labor whistles. Luck relies on chance; Labor, on character. Luck slips downward to self-indulgence; Labor strives upward, and aspires to independence. ■ — Smiles. 5. Write a paragraph in parallel construction on the following topic: "How marvellous have been the in- ventions of man since he learned the control of steam! '* Give at least five wonderful things made possible by COHERENCE 263 steam. Then follow these with a concluding sentence, repeating the topic and summarizing the whole. Or, if you prefer, write upon the ** Value of Elec- tricity " or the " Value of Education." Remember that first there should be a good topic sentence, followed by sentences of detail in parallel construction, closing with a strong sentence repeating the topic and summarizing the paragraph. 6. For a paragraph using balanced sentences, choose two topics in strong contrast, such as " Poverty and Riches," " Self-ReHance and Weakness," or *' Tem- perance and Intemperance." Announce the theme in the first sentence; give the body of the paragraph in bal- anced sentences; conclude with repetition. Other topics that could easily and powerfully be treated by balanced sentences are, *' Washington and Lincoln," " Lee and Jackson," " Grant and McClellan," or any two poets, authors, artists, statesmen, business men. In the complete essay. To secure coherence' among sentences in a paragraph, a writer first arranges his thoughts so that they follow naturally and in order. Then, to bind his sentences together into one connected whole, he relies upon certain strong words and upon those other words, whose use always is to connect — pronouns and conjunctions. To secure coherence among the paragraphs of an essay, he still depends first upon the orderly sequence of his thoughts, as expressed in the outline. Then, as in the ca^e of words connecting sentences, he uses sentences or sometimes whole para- graphs to make the connection between the big di- visions of the essay. Such sentences or paragraphs are called sentences or paragraphs of summary or transition. 264 FORMS OF DISCOURSE A summary gathers up what has been said on a topic, much Hke a conclusion to a theme; a transition shows the relation between the topic already discussed and the one next to be treated. A summary at the conclusion of any division of the whole subject is like a seat on a moun- tain path, conveniently arranged to give the climber a needed rest, and to spread out at his feet the features of the landscape through which he has made his way. A summary is a survey of the discussion up to that point, and makes the reader ready for the next stage of the ad- vance. At the end of the summary there is frequently a transition, either a few sentences, or sometimes a short paragraph. The sentence or paragraph of transi- tion is more frequent than the paragraph that sum- marizes. Examples of summaries and transitions are frequent in Macaulay and Burke. Here are some sentences from Burke's speech on Conciliation with the American Col- onies. They indicate clearly what he will discuss and at every point they recall what has been discussed. These sentences are clearly summaries of what has been said, and transitions to what will be said. It would not seem very hard to fill up this simple outline. After his Introduction, the next paragraph (IF 15) opens with — The first thing that we have to consider with regard to the nature of the object is — the number of people in the colo- nies, — and he gives two paragraphs to the treatment of popu- lation. ^ 17. But the 'population of this country, the great and growing population, though a very important consideration, will lose much of its weight if not combined with other cir- cumstances. The commerce of your colonies is out of all proportion beyond the numbers of the people. * COHERENCE W5 ^ 36. There is a third consideration concerning this object which serves to determine my opinion on the sort of poHcy which ought to be pursued in the management of America, even more than its population and its commerce — I mean its temper and character. ^ 37. In this character of the Americans, a love of freedom is the predominating feature which marks and distin- guishes the whole. ^ 44. Then, Sir, from these six sources — of descent, of form oi government, of religion in the Northern provinces, of manners in the Southern, of education, of the re- moteness of situation from the first mover of govern- ment — from all these causes a fierce spirit of liberty has grown up. It has grown with the growth of the people in your colonies, and increased with the increase of their wealth; a spirit that unhappily meeting with an exercise of power in England which, however lawful, is not reconcilable to any ideas of liberty, much less with theirs, has kindled this flame that is ready to con- sume us. % 45. I do not mean to commend either the spirit in this excess, or the moral causes which produce it. Perhaps a more smooth and accommodating spirit of freedom in them would be more acceptable to us. Perhaps ideas of liberty might be desired more reconcilable with an arbitrary and boundless authority. Perhaps we might wish the colonists to be persuaded that their liberty is more secure when held in trust for them by us, as their guardians during a perpetual minority, than with any part of it in their own hands. The ques- tion is, not whether their spirit deserves praise or blame, but — tohat, in the name of God, shall we do with it ? Paragraph 44 is a summary of one subdivision of the main theme; and it prepares for the transition found in the next paragraph, when he asks, "What shall we do with it.J^ " No better piece for study of summaries and transitions could be found than this whole oration. f0e FORMS OF DISCOURSE EXERCISE 1. Find in this chapter on Exposition two examples of transition, one a sentence and one a paragraph. 2. Find in this chapter two examples of summary, one a sentence and one a paragraph. 3. Find in any text-book you are using examples of summary and transition. Such books as physical geographies, histories, text-books in science are the most likely to furnish you what you wish. Bring these examples to class and be prepared to tell what thoughts have been linked together by the transition sen- tences; and to show that the author has summarized his work in the order in which it was taken up in the discussion. 4. Take up the essay on ** The Value of Trade Schools." All the paragraphs have been written, and the sequence is logical. There remains yet one more thing to do. To finish up the work so that it is smooth, and one thought leads imperceptibly into the next, there should be made sentences of transition. This is the final touch which a real artist gives to his work. Notice how much the composition may be improved by introducing or changing sentences for the opening of the successive paragraphs : — Part I. The Value of Trade Schools to the Individual ^ 1. A greater choice of occupation will be open to young men. Transition from 1 to S : Not only then will a young man find open to him more opportunities for earning a living, but also he will find himself well prepared to meet those opportunities after his course of training re- ceived in the trade school. COHERENCE 267 ^ 2. The skill of the wage-earner will be increased. Transition from 2 to 3: As a result of his being well prepared for the trade he is to follow, the young laborer may take his place among other wage-earners and receive "an honest day's pay for an honest day's labor." 1[ 3. The workman can command a self-sustaining wage earlier than by the apprentice-plan. Transition: Perhaps of more importance than the choice of an occupation, or increased skill in work, or the ready wages given to the graduate of a trade school, is the fact that his future happiness and success in life often depend upon that training. ^ 4. Better homes and a more intelligent class of laborers will be the result of the training obtained at a trade school. Transition from Part I to Part II: Not to the workman alone comes the entire value from our trade schools. Our na- tion also derives its benefit. As each individual stone in a wall, exact, strongly fitted to its place, bearing its share of weight, helps to form the whole, so each individual in a nation performs his part in making that nation uniform, strong, and reliable. We look now to the final value which America may obtain from her trade schools. Part II. The Value of Trade Schools to the Nation ^ 1. The standard of labor will be raised. Transition: Again we shall note a further result of our improved condition, when we measure the quality and excellence of our labor output with that of other nations. ^ 2. The quality of our industries will be unexcelled by that of other nations. Transition: Were all other reasons lacking for prompt- ing the establishment and maintenance of trade schools, the fact that useful occupation keeps down poverty and crime would be alone suflScient. ^ 3. The number in our reform schools and prisons will be lessened. Transition: The last and most important value to the nation remains. Our nation, founded by the people and 268 FORMS OF DISCOURSE for the people, must forever keep democracy as her dominant note. Whatever keeps this tone vibrating in the hearts of this people must be fostered and encour- aged. ^ 4. A truer democracy will prevail. 5. Now take one of your own outlines and write transition sentences or phrases connecting the different topics. Some simple phrases that will help you to think of better ones are: in addition to what lias been saidy of not less value f not only . . . but also, of equal importance, perhaps the most weighty consideration y further, leaving out of the account. 6. For your last exercise in Exposition, outline an essay of not less than ten paragraphs. Have it in two large divisions, so that a paragraph of summary will be needed at the end of the first division, followed by sen- tences indicating the transition to the second large division. This transition may well be a short paragraph. Indicate clearly in your brief the transition from one paragraph to the next. These transitions may be but a single word, or they may be complete sentences. In the composition, strive to use all varieties of para- graph structure. Make this exercise a test of all you have learned in this chapter on Exposition. SUBJECTS FOR EXPOSITION 1. Boys and girls should learn to swim. 2. Who is who in high school. 3. How my shoes are made. 4. Life in a lighthouse. 5. The cause of the . . . strike in .... 6. A model factory (cotton, breakfast food, clothing, or the like). 7. The work of the fire patrol boats. , 8. Good-bye, Santa Claus (apphcable to leaving off any SUBJECTS FOR EXPOSITION 269 childish illusion, such as belief in fairies, ghosts, brownies, or the like). 9. How our dog lies down. 10. Why my best friend is a favorite. 11. What colors mean to me. 12. Life on a canal boat. 13. How to make dish-washing a pleasant task. 14. Should the cigarette law be enforced? 15. The advantages (or disadvantages) of the boy or the girl who works his way. 16. How I made a model for an air-ship. 17. Learn to control your temper. 18. My pet diversion. 19. What good citizenship means. 20. Neither a borrower nor a lender be. 21. What the study of English is doing for me. 22. How a great newspaper is printed. 23. The passing of the sweat shop. 24. Little products from big factories (pins, nails, wire, but- tons, hardware, novelties, or the like). 25. Laying a tile floor. 26. Should the curfew ordinance be enforced? 27. How a cow chews her cud. 28. To be right is better than to be president. 29. There are a number of ways one can be useful. 30. The work of the lifesaving station at ... . 31. What irrigation is doing for . . . (applicable to the fruit orchards of Idaho, Washington, or other places). 32. How to fly a kite. 33. The value of fresh air. 34. Not any part of any animal is wasted in the packing houses. 35. What I saw of the great car strike in . . . 36. One can cultivate good humor. 37. How to build a camp fire. 38. My high school training is making a better citizen of me. 39. The newest invention. 40. The value of a pure water supply. 41. How we are decorating our public buildings (suggesting mural decorations, especially those using historical topics). 42. Breaking the colt. 43. What the recreation pier has done. 270 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 44. When the divers laid the foundation of the great pier. 45. A good way to make bread. 46. How to use a fireless cooker. 47. The vagaries of my fountain pen. 48. The construction of a fountain pen. 49. School examinations encourage cheating. 50. It is often said that tennis is our best game. 51. The ideal student is the high-grade, all-around fellow. CHAPTER VI FORMS OF DISCOURSE {Continued) ARGUMENTATION Argumentation has been defined as that form of dis- course the purpose of which is to prove the truth or falsity of some proposition. To accomplish its ends it employs the other forms of discourse already studied — narra- tion, description, and exposition; yet it is none of these, since the purpose of argumentation is to prove or to convince. If a person were arguing in favor of a change in the rules of football, he might with good effect tell of a cruel accident he had seen in a game; he might draw a picture of the agony of the victim; and he might, then, explain how a slight change in the playing rules would have obviated the unfortunate occurrence. After this a person would naturally take the next step and give proofs that a change was needed, with the hope that he might persuade the people to do something. In- deed, it is seldom that any one tries to convince another of a truth without wishing at the same time to arouse him to action. A girl tries to convince her mother that she needs a new pair of shoes; after stating her reasons for her need, she begs her mother to buy them. A boy urges his father to buy him a pony; he brings forward every reason he can think of to prove that it would be a judicious expenditure of money. From the tramp at the door, urging many reasons for his present need, up to the crowned monarch displaying the reasons why his nation should adopt a certain policy, all men daily en- 272 FORMS OF DISCOURSE deavor to convince and to persuade; and they levy upon all the rich resources of language to uphold the pro- position they aflSrm. Although argumentation calls to its aid all the other forms of discourse, exposition renders the greatest as- sistance; for reasonable men are usually convinced when a proposition has been clearly explained. Any reasonable man would conclude from reading your essay on " The Value of Trade Schools," that the education offered in them should be introduced into the public schools. The simple explanation of their value would convince him that this work should be taken up. So ex- position approaches very near to argumentation, and often forms a large part of it. The following brief will show how easy it sometimes is to pass from exposition to argumentation. Take the essay on " The Value of Trade Schools." Change the theme to this: " Industrial Training should be introduced into the public schools of the United States." Then, instead of giving an explanation of the advan- tages of industrial training, the brief would be con- structed to prove the new proposition, and would be as follows: — Industrial Training should be introduced into the public schools of the United States; for I. It would benefit the individual; for A. It would open to him whatever occupation he wished. B. It would enable him to meet the demand for skilled workmen. C. It would prevent his becoming discouraged; for 1. He would have increased knowledge and skill. D. It would enable him to advance rapidly in the indus- trial world. n. It would benefit the nation; for A. It would dignify labor. ARGUMENTATION 273 B. In creating American skill, it would honor the people. C. In putting a tool in the child's hand, it would over- come poverty and crime. D. It would encourage a truer democracy. III. Conclusion. Of all the forms of discourse, argumentation adheres most closely to definite rules. While, in the other forms of discourse, many rules have been given, leading toward success, it is well known that exceptional authors often adopt unusual methods. This they may not so safely do in argumentation; in this form of discourse the rules are fixed, and success is most surely obtained by fol- lowing them closely. The method of procedure in argument is as definite as it is in a demonstration in geometry. With axioms the student of geometry establishes certain other truths, called theorems; and then with axioms and already proved theorems, he goes on to demonstrate new propo- sitions. The writer of argument does exactly the same thing. He starts with well known facts and accepted general truths. These are his axioms. With these he es- tablishes other truths, which he is at liberty to make the basis of the next step of his proof. In this connection it should be said that mere asser- tion is not argument. It is a far call from empty declara- tion to a proved proposition. Many times in the course of an argument, young debaters rehearse a series of propositions, which they claim have been established by proof that is conclusive; yet how often these boasted conclusions are but the hollowest asumption! The warn- ing that the debater should hear above the sound of his own voice and the applause of friends is the small voice of the doubter in the audience, forever challenging him with these words: " Prove it. Show me.'* The business 274 FORMS OF DISCOURSE of any man presenting an argument is convincing proof, not empty assertion. Nothing is more helpful in the construction of an argument than the conscious thought of a critical per- son or audience listening to the presentation of your proofs. There can be no use in an argument directed only to the friends of a proposition. Burke did not address his argument for conciliation with the American colo- nies to Pitt. It would have been useless; for Pitt was himself an advocate of the rights of colonial subjects. Burke must reach those members of Parliament who were either indifferent to the whole matter, or else were opposed to conciliation. The man in the pulpit does not need to prove to the membership of his church that the saloon is an institution fraught with terrible dangers to youth. His church already believes it. On the other hand, the preacher would need all his powers of argu- ment to prove this same proposition to a slum crowd on a Saturday night. Preparing to speak to such an au- dience, he would leave no weak places in his argument. So, for every man who strives to convince — it is well for him to keep in mind some critical person or some hos- tile audience ready to tear his argument to pieces. This puts him to the test; then he will make no assertion that is not backed by ample proof. EXERCISE Prove to a twelve-year-old child one of the follow- ing assertions: — 1. The earth is round. 2. The sun does not go round the earth. S. Lightning is a form of electricity. 4. The earth's axis is inclined. 5. Mars has an atmosphere. THE PROPOSITION 275 6. Water on the surface of a glass containing ice-water did not come through the glass. THE PROPOSITION Its limitations. Before one can write an argument, one must have in mind a definite proposition to be proved, A person might write an explanation of what a State Fair is; but he could write no argument on " A State Fair." However, he might write a strong argument on the proposition, " All State Fairs should be free to the public "; or, " State Fairs should be generously sup- ported by the State.'* He might explain to a stranger newly arrived from Mars what is meant by the comic supplement to our great dailies; and he might argue on this question: " The comic supplement of the great dailies is working an injury to the character of our youth." So, too, he might write an essay on the topic, " Industry is a source of wealth "; but for argument he must have some such proposition as this: " The happiest man is one who earns his own way." If there is to be an argument, there must be a definite proposition, in- volving the possibility of rational contradiction, about which to argue. Yet not all propositions lend themselves to argument. Such a question as, "^ Resolved, That a man who steals should be punished "; or " Resolved, That a boy who has failed in two thirds of his work shall not be graduated from this school," is not good for argument. The truth is obvious; it is granted by all. Obvious, too, is a pro- position like this: *' A State should support elementary schools." Entirely as unfortunate as propositions that are obvious are those propositions that cannot be proved. Such a proposition is this: '* Cadmus invented the alphabet." To this class belong many tenets of 276 FORMS OF DISCOURSE religious belief. Then we may add for a third qualifica- tion for argument: The topic should be within the range of the thought and interest of the debater. It is absurd for high school students to attempt to debate the Tariff Question, or Darwin's Theory of Evolution. Such ques- tions are too large and require more information and experience than young persons can be expected to have; and, furthermore, such questions have no interest for young people, for they do not touch their lives at any point. A question for argument, then, should not he ob- vious; it should be susceptible of proof; it should not be beyond the debater's comprehension; and it should be interesting to him, EXERCISE 1. Give all the reasons that Jeanie used to convince her mother that she should be allowed to go to a class party. Arrange them in order of climax. 2. Give five reasons that John urged in asking his father to buy him a pony. 3. Give as many reasons as you can for changing the school holiday from Saturday to Monday; or from Mon- day to Saturday. The statement of the proposition. Having deter- mined the kind of subject suitable for argument, the next matter for consideration is the manner of stating the proposition. The statement of a proposition for argu- ment should include exactly what the writer or speaker intends to prove — not more, not less. If one should use this theme: " All sale of alcohol should be prohibited in this State," more has been included than one would wish to prove; for few would desire to prohibit the sale of alcohol to be used in laboratories or for fuel to gene- THE PROPOSITION 277 rate power. Where the fight was intended to center, was upon the more Umited proposition, " The sale for drink- ing purposes of all liquors containing alcohol shall be prohibited in this State." A man who believed in the entire uselessness of alcohol taken internally might argue a proposition so limited as to read " for drink- ing or medical purposes." With such a question there could be no failure of a difference of opinion, and a consequent necessity of solid argument to establish the truth of the proposition. Be accurate in the state- ment of the proposition. Next, a proposition should be stated so that there are two sides to the question. A question like this: " The illicit sale of alcohol should be prohibited by the State," offers no chance for argument; for " illicit " means con- trary to law, and everything contrary to law is by that very fact prohibited. So, in such a question as, " The vicious methods of some corporations (or some labor unions) are blameworthy," or, *' The desire to gain an unfair advantage in debate is reprehensible," the words ** vicious " and " unfair " beg the question. With statements such as these there can be no chance for argument. Third, the words used in stating a proposition must not be ambiguous. They must have the same meaning for all. Nothing is more displeasing to an audience than to be compelled to listen to a discussion in which two interpretations have been given to the terms in the question, and the opponents do not grapple in the con- test. In framing a question for debate, both parties should labor honestly for a statement that will compel a square fight. Any trickery or deception, or any eva- sion of the real question by hiding behind ambiguous terms, always loses the respect of an audience. Such 278 FORMS OF DISCOURSE methods receive the same condemnation that comes to the unsportsmanhke fellow who is determined to win a game, even if it be by tricky playing. Avoid ambigu- ity; try to be fair. Fourth, a proposition should be stated in the fewest possible words. To be sure, a question must be accu- rately stated, so that there shall be no misimderstand- ing; and this sometimes requires qualifying phrases and clauses. Still, as far as is consistent with accuracy and clearness, everything not needed should be eliminated. An audience wants the gist of a proposition in a few words. " If*s " and " provided*s " are an annoyance. Be brief. EXERCISE! 1. Submit ten questions for discussion that are easily comprehended, interesting, not obvious, and are sus- ceptible of proof. The questions will provoke greater discussion if they have a local interest. 2. Formulate five of these so that they will include just what you wish to say, will not beg the question, will not be ambiguous, and will be in the fewest words possible. They should be so fairly stated that you would be willing to discuss either side of the question. THE BRIEF The next step in writing an argument is to construct a brief. In the chapter on Exposition there was a dis- cussion of the difference between an outline and a brief; in argumentation the brief is the only form of outline » To the instructor : Keep a complete list of the questions suggested by the pupils. The subjects that have a local interest are much better than the academic, political, or sociological questions very often used for argu- ment. THE BRIEF 279 used. A brief shows clearly what the line of argument is to be, and sets out in order all the propositions that will be used to establish the main proposition. A brief is a complete summary of an argument compressed into a few sentences. A brief is divided into three parts: introduction, brief proper, and conclusion. Each of these divisions has a special function to perform in an argument. /. THE INTRODUCTION Its purpose. The introduction, as its name implies, is the opening of an argument. Before proofs are sub- mitted, it is necessary that the reader should know ex- actly what is to be proved. This seems simple; but there are a number of things in most questions that need explanation. Suppose that you wished to urge a longer school day, and that your proposition should be stated, ** A longer school day is desirable." It would seem that this proposition should be perfectly clear. Yet, if the reader of your argument had always lived where school began at half past eight in the morning and closed at four in the afternoon, his understanding of the question would be quite different from that of the man whose children attended school four hours a day. Then, too, the word " desirable " might be the source of misunderstanding ; for what might be held desirable by the man who believed that the best education can be extracted from books would be thought most undesir- able by the man who believed that real education is de- rived only from vigorous contact with the living world. In the same way it would be unavailing to argue that "a small college offers greater advantanges to youth than a large college"; for who has determined the number of students necessary to entitle a college to the 280 FORMS OF DISCOURSE epithet " large "? Or, again, if the discussion should be upon a "property qualification for suffrage,'* there would arise the question of what is meant by a ** prop- erty qualification " — the possession of property worth ten dollars or one hundred dollars? or, shall a rental for a place of business be considered a ** property qualifica- tion "? It is to clear up any possible misunderstanding, and to place before the reader a clear-cut question that an introduction to an argument is necessary. What, then, must be included in the introduction so that the issue may be squarely before the.reader? Defining terms. First, whenever necessary there must be definitions of the terms used in stating the pro- position. A dictionary at times is suflScient; but gener- ally a definition from the dictionary is useless. Take the word " longer " when used of a school day, " large '* or ** small " when used of a college; what help could one derive from a dictionary regarding the meaning of these words .^ There must be an explanation of these simple words before the discussion of the question can pro- ceed. So, too, a person would make no advance toward an understanding of the term *' property qualification/' " living wage," or ** open shop " by the use of a dic- tionary. The most satisfactory way to arrive at a de- finition of such terms as these is to study the origin and the history of the questions that have brought them into common use. The following paragraph gives Mr. Stelzle*s defini- tion of " living wage " in his " Letters from a Working- man *': — A living wage doesn't mean exactly the same thing to any two men. My "living wage" wouldn't satisfy the Super nor the old man, because they have a higher standard than I have. For some men to "live" means summer homes and THE BRIEF 281 European trips, besides a lot* of other stuff that some of my friends don't care a rap about. To others, it means simply bread and meat, rent and fuel, clothes and the barest necessi- ties of life. We're getting beyond the latter definition of the term, because the great mass of working people are getting to have higher standards. After all, a "living wage" is largely a matter of taste and disposition. It means the securing of that which will satisfy the cravings of the soul, the mind, and the body of each individual man.^ Matter irrelevant, admitted, waived. The second use of an introduction is to get rid of any matters that may cloud the real issue. Many related matters have nothing to do with the main issue, though they are connected with the general topic. If the proposition were that High License is a better solution of the liquor problem than Prohibition, an advocate of Prohibition might easily be led into a discussion of the waste and desola- tion wrought by intemperance. Such a discussion would be quite beside the point, and a defender of High Li- cense would not be called upon to defend intemperance. Such matter is called "irrelevant,*' meaning that it has no bearing on the question. When necessary, part of the introduction should be used in clearing away irrelevant matter. Besides matters that are irrelevant to the question, there are at times propositions that are granted or ad- mitted. If a person were arguing against the Municipal Ownership of Public Utilities in a city where the govern- ing charter did not specifically grant power to own and operate such institutions, he might admit for the pur- pose of the discussion that the city had such right, in order to rid the question of all side issues, and get to the real point of the discussion — namely, the advantage or disadvantage of such ownership and operation. So, too, in opposing the annexation of Cuba, a writer might 1 Letters from a Workingman, by Charles Stelzle. Copyright, 1908, by Fleming H. Rev- ell Company 282 FORMS OF DISCOURSE admit the contention of the promoters of annexation, — that the Cubans are willing to be annexed, — though this is by no means proved. This would bring the reader to the real point at issue: *' Is the annexation of Cuba to the advantage of the United States? " Yet one further illustration: in a text-book containing briefs for debates, the affirmative argument on the question, " Resolved, That intercollegiate football promotes the best interests of colleges,'* is arranged under the fol- lowing heads : — I. Athletics in colleges is essential. n. Football is a beneficial form of athletics. m. Intercollegiate contests are advantageous. IV. The evils of football are not inherent. A person arguing on the negative of the question would certainly admit the first contention, probably the second, and possibly even the fourth. The real argument upon the question as stated is upon the third heading. One should remember that it is not at all necessary to deny everything that an opponent may affirm, and that a wise admission of certain contentions may advance one's own argument. Indeed, if a writer or speaker wishes to be fair, he should admit as many of the opponent's contentions as he can without injury to his own cause. It is truth that is sought in any argument, and no avoidance of the real question through pettifogging and trifling can ever be a wise policy. If the cause is bad, nothing will go further toward convincing an audience than the appearance of fairness; and even though the case is good, it may be lost before an audience that believes its defender un- fair. The discussion of certain definite matters is sometimes waived, or omitted. In a debate this is often done by THE BRIEF 283 agreement. For example, it might be well to waive any discussion of the revenue to be derived from li- censes in an argument concerning High License or Pro- hibition as a means of control of the sale of liquor. So in an argument concerning high school fraternities, it would help toward the solution of the question, if the discussion of the legal power of the Board of Education to deal with members should be waived. It must be clear that in both the examples, the waived considera- tions have to do with the question. So far as rele- vancy is concerned, waived considerations do not differ from matters that are admitted. Both admitted and waived matters are relevant. But there is this differ- ence between them in an argument : admitted considera- tions may be used by either side in a discussion; waived matters may be used by neither side. EXERCISE ' In a paragraph not exceeding two hundred words in length, define one of the following terms : — Prohibition or High LicensCy as it is understood in a discussion of the control of the liquor traffic. High School Fraternity^ as you would have it under- stood in the question: " Resolved, That High School Fraternities should be prohibited by the school au- thorities." Caucus System of Nominations and Primary Nomina- tionsy as opposed to each other. The Gothenburg System of Dispensing Liquor. The clash of opinion. Having determined the meaning of a proposition by a definition of the terms, and having narrowed the question by rejecting from consideration all irrelevant and waived considerations and by stating 284 FORMS OF DISCOURSE the matters that are admitted, the third step in making an introduction is a study of the clash of opinion. By a " clash of opinion " is meant a statement of the prin- cipal propositions that are held to be true on both sides of the question. Were a person preparing to write on an Eight Hour Day, he would think of the many things that might be said in favor of its adoption, and the number of things that could be urged against it. Putting these one over against the other, he would have a clash of opinion on this subject. He might arrange it as fol- lows : — I. An Eight Hour Day would benefit the laborer, for A. It would improve his health, which is impaired by the present long day. B. It would give the laborer time for improvement through reading, lectures, and evening schools. C. It would allow time and strength for enjoyment. n. An Eight Hour Day would not be harmful to industry, for A. Production would not be decreased, for 1. There are men enough to do the world's work in the shorter day. in. An Eight Hour Day would benefit the nation, for A. It would help to solve the problem of the unemployed, for 1. It would require the employment of more men. IV. The principle of an Eight Hour Day must be adopted into our laws, for A. Employers will not adopt it except on compulsion. B. Legal enforcement of the principle is necessary to secure uniformity of action. The negative presents the following fundamental proposi- tions : — I. An Eight Hour Day would not benefit the laborer, for A. Men can work ten hours a day without injury. B. The laboring man would use the extra time in spend- ing his wages recklessly, and so deprive his family of necessities. THE BRIEF 285 n. An Eight Hour Day would injure industry, for A. Production would be diminished, for 1. Production is in proportion to the time used, for a. Machines running at a fixed speed are the means of production. 2. Every great change in methods of manufacture disturbs industry and decreases production. m. An Eight Hour Day would not benefit the nation, for A. It would not increase the number of men employed, for 1. A disturbance in industry always shuts down fac- tories. rV. The principle of the Eight Hour Day should not be adopted into our laws, for A. Every man should have the right to sell his labor as he pleases. B. It will be adopted without law whenever it becomes an econonuc advantage to employer and employed. The main issues. The clash of opinion brings a reader or writer squarely up to the main issues in an argument. These are the contentions that must be established by proofs in order to establish the main proposition. In the argument for an Eight Hour Day, the main issues to be proved true or false are: — I. Is an Eight Hour Day a benefit to the laborer? II. Will an Eight Hour Day injure industry? III. Will an Eight Hour Day benefit the nation? IV. Is it necessary to make laws in order to establish an Eight Hour Day? It should be remembered that the clash of opinion should not contain proofs; it merely sets forth the main propositions of both sides of the question. The whole purpose of an introduction is to place clearly and fairly before the reader the main issues of the question. When the main issues are squarely stated, then the field is clear for the battle of proofs. Indeed, the whole of a 286 FORMS OF DISCOURSE debate is much like those ancient tournaments. The statement of the question is the challenge; the defini- tion of the terms and the narrowing of the question is like the announcement by the heralds of the conditions of the contest; the declaration of the main issues is the call to arms. But up to this time not one stroke should be delivered, not one proof be offered. Summary. A complete introduction, then, contains (l) a statement of the question; sometimes requiring (2) a definition of the terms used in the question; which is found (a) by a study of a dictionary, or more fre- quently (6) by a study of the origin and history of the question; (3) a statement of matters that are irrele- vant, admitted, or waived ; (4) a statement of the con- tentions of both sides of the question, called the clash of opinion; from which are drawn (5) the main issues involved. It is not essential that every introduction contain all these divisions, for there are times when some of them are so well known that they need no statement. In these days there would be no need of a definition of intercollegiate football. So it is with most topics of the day; the really essential thing is a clear statement of the main issues. In one of the recent magazines there appeared a defense of football. In the first para- graph was given the occasion for writing on the subject, and in the second a statement of the main issues. I hope to prove that with all its faults it is one of the best forms of athletic sports that can be invented; that by no other game or exercise practiced by young men are the players themselves so much benefited as by football; that the col- lege ought to be as much interested in keeping it up as are the enthusiastic football players themselves; that the public, who have boys to educate, ought to acquaint themselves with THE BRIEF 287 the subject. Watching the games when possible, they ought not to allow themselves to be beguiled into condemnation of the sport by sensational writers, who inveigh against it, either because they know nothing of it, or because they have deter- mined to know nothing of it, since it does not square with their "historic and traditional idea" of things suitable to a college. Lastly, I wish to suggest lines along which measures for the improvement of the game should be taken, and also to advocate some measures for the better supervision of the sport. — E. L. Richards. On the other hand, Burke, in the Conciliation, did not reach a statement of the main issues until the four- teenth paragraph. Then it is very brief: — The capital leading questions on which you must this day decide are two: First, whether you ought to concede; and secondly, what your concession ought to be. It v^ould be difficult to find a clearer statement of the issues involved in a question than is exhibited in the following letter by Lincoln: — Executive Mansion, Washington, February 3, 1862. Major-General McClellan: My dear Sir : You and I have distinct and different plans for a movement of the Army of the Potomac — yours to be down the Chesapeake, up the Rappahannock to Urbana, and across land to the terminus of the railroad on the York River; mine to be directly to a point on the railroad south- west of Manassas. If you will give me satisfactory answers to the following questions, I shall gladly yield my plan to yours. First: Does not your plan involve a greatly larger expenditure of time and money than mine? Second: WTierein is a victory more certain by your plan than mine? Third: Wherein is a victory more valuable by your plan than by mine? Fourth: In fact, would it not be less valuable in this, that it 288 FORMS OF DISCOURSE would break no great line of the enemy's communications, while mine would? Fifth: In case of disaster, would not a retreat be more difficult by your plan than by mine? i Yours truly, Abraham Lincoln. EXERCISE Make a brief for the introduction to one of the follow- ing questions. Include as many of the five divisions of an introduction as you would need to make clear to an audience of grammar-grade pupils every point in the argument you will later present. Remember that the introduction should be the same, no matter which side of the question you intend to take. 1. Resolved, That boys should not play marbles "for keeps." 2. Resolved, That a simple uniform dress should be adopted by girls for high school graduation. 3. Resolved, That the presentation of a standard play by pupils is for the general good of a high school. 4. Resolved, That admission to college should be gained only upon examination. 5. Resolved, That at present wages a young woman would do better to enter domestic service than to become a clerk in a store. 6. Resolved, That the honor system should be adopted in giving examinations in high schools. 7. Resolved, That a "safe and sane" Fourth of July is a more fruitful source of patriotism than the noisy demonstra- tions of past years. [At this point it would be well for the class to divide into groups of three each. The groups should choose opposite sides of these questions, and the members within each should work together as if for a debate. They should keep the same question through the following exercises, and construct a complete ar- gument, both the brief and the finished composition. If the members of any group do not find here something that they THE BRIEF 289 wish to discuss, let them select a subject for themselves, either from the list at the end of the chapter, or, better still, from the many things in which they are interested.] //. THE BRIEF PROPER When the introduction is complete and the main is- sues are clearly drawn, the next thing is to prove one side of the contention. This is not done in a haphazard way, but requires well-ordered reasoning. To show the order of reasoning is the function of the brief proper. It is a clear outline of the methods that will be employed and the evidence that will be offered in proof of the pro- position. Direct proof. A brief must be so complete and so lucid that it will indicate every step in the argument. To be complete it must not be a series of words or phrases, such as are at times found in outlines; it must be a series of complete sentences, stating every link in the chain of proof. To be lucid, the arrangement must be logical. Not only will it set out all the proofs, whether used to establish the main proposition or one of the subordinate propositions, but it will set out each so that its relation to the thing it is intended to prove shall be unmistakable. In order that the relation of the parts of a brief may be unmistakable, an arbitrary system of symbols has been adopted. The general proposition that a writer sets out to prove has no symbol. The propositions supporting the general proposition are indicated by Roman numer- als (I, II, III, etc.). These again are established by other propositions, whose symbols are capital letters, (A, B, C, etc.). Under each of these are ranged their subordi- nate and supporting proofs, marked by Arabic numerals, (1, 2, 3, etc.). Then the proofs of these are indicated by small letters (a, b, c, etc.). This is as far as the work of 280 FORMS OF DISCOURSE the high school is Hkely to take a writer, but briefs for college debates often go two or three steps further. This ordination of a brief can be most clearly seen in the following scheme: — The General Proposition supported by I. supported by A. supported by 1. supported by a. h. c. «. B. n. Or, to show the same by a diflFerent arrangement, — A. by The Main Proposition I. supported by B. by II. in the same way. If now the page be. turned so that the small letters are at the bottom, a good idea may be gained of the way in which an argument is built up from the foundation. The footing-stones are the final proofs; they are hard THE BRIEF 291 facts. Upon these are supported subordinate proposi- tions, which again support other propositions, which support the main proposition. The foundation is broad ; it is composed of undisputed evidence and sohd author- ity. On this foundation is raised piece by piece the argu- ment that supports in security the main proposition. The following is a brief showing the larger sub-divi- sions of the first part of Burke's argument for Concilia- tion. In answer to the first of the main issues, " whether you ought to concede," he says, — "England ought to concede," for I. The nature and circumstances of the object (the colonies) demand concession, for A. The population is already so great, and growing so fast that no narrow system will be suitable to such an object. B. Their commerce is a very important consideration, for 1. Mr. Glover has eloquently shown this. 2. The Government's reports show this, for a. According to them trade in America increased twelve-fold from 1704 to 1772. b. The trade with America now is about equal to all England's trade a century ago. c. Pennsylvania increased her trade fifty-fold from 1704 to 1772. C. Their agriculture is so successfully carried on that the New World now feeds the Old. D. Their fisheries have reached to the ends of the world. n. The way to obtain this valuable object is not by force, for A. Force is but temporary. B. Force is uncertain. C. Force impairs its object by its own endeavors. D. Force is not justified by experience. m. The temper and character of the American people demand concession, for A. A fierce spirit of liberty has grown up from a variety of powerful causes, for 292 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 1. The people of the Colonies are descendants of Englishmen. 2. Their governments are popular in a high degree. 3. They are Protestants in religion. 4. Slavery in the South has made the spirit of liberty high and haughty. 5. Education contributes to the growth of this un- tractable spirit. 6. Distance increases this spirit of liberty. rV. The question then becomes: What shall we do with this spirit? Note in this abridged brief that every proposition is followed by its proof — never the reverse. Note, too, that the word used to indicate the relation between proposition and proof is always for. All briefs should be made in this order, because this arrangement is clear; and, with an order that is fixed, the reader can never be at a loss to know what the writer is driving at. On the other hand, if the proof at times came first, a reader would be wholly in the dark as to what the object of the proof was until the conclusion was announced by some word like " hence " or " therefore '*; and then it would be necessary to review what had been said to establish the conclusion. In reading a written argument a man could turn back and do this; but in hearing a spoken argument, and in debate, the most common form of argument, such a course would be impossible. In making a brief, always follow the order of " proposition, then proof"; and always use the connective for, EXERCISE 1. Richard A. Proctor supports by the following argument the theory that the moon cannot be regarded as at present the abode of any forms of life, such as we are familiar with on earth: — THE BRIEF 293 In the first place, the moon has no appreciable atmosphere. We have long known this quite certainly, because we see that when stars are occulted by the moon they disappear instantly, whereas we know this would not be the case had the moon an atmosphere of appreciable extent. But if any doubt could have remained, the evidence of the spectroscope in Mr. Hug- gins's hands would have sufficed to remove it. He has never been able to detect a sign of the existence of any lunar at- mosphere, though Mars and Jupiter, so much farther from us, have afforded distinct evidence respecting the atmospheres which surround them. Then secondly, there are no seas or oceans on the moon. Were there any large tracts of water, the tremendous heat to which the moon is subjected during the course of the long lunar day (lasting a fortnight of our time) would certainly cause enormous quantities of water to evaporate; and not only would the effects of this process be distinctly recogniz- able in the telescope, but the spectroscope would exhibit in an unmistakable manner the presence of the aqueous vapor thus formed. Thirdly, there are no lunar seasons. The inclination of the moon's axis to the orbit in which she travels around the sun is nearly 89 degrees, and with this inclination there can be no appreciable seasonal changes. Fourthly, the enormous length of the lunar day is altogether opposed to our conceptions of what is suitable for animal or vegetable life. The lunar day lasts about a fortnight, and the lunar night is, of course, equally long. Were this all, the in- convenience of the arrangement would not be endurable by beings like ourselves. But far more serious consequences must result from the combination of the arrangement with the want of an atmosphere; for whereas during the lunar day the surface of the moon is exposed to an inconceivably intense direct heat, undoubtedly sufficient to heat that surface far above the boiling point, during the lunar night the heat is radi- ated rapidly away into space (no atmosphere checking the process), and an intensity of cold must prevail of which we can form but imperfect conceptions. Make a brief showing the four chief divisions of this argument, and all the subdivisions supporting each. 294 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 2. Using the subject that you selected in the last exercise (page 288) for your completed argument, make a brief that shall cover every detail of the proof you intend to offer. Refutation. So far we have dealt with direct proof only. But it must always be borne in mind that there are two sides to any question worth a discussion. There are always things to be said on the other side of the question, and a decision is reached by weighing the arguments offered on both sides. In order to prove one's own case, it is necessary to disprove much of an oppo- nent's argument. This part of argumentation is called refutation. It must be clear that refutation demands a thorough knowledge of the question. This thorough knowledge has already been found necessary in making the analysis of the question in the introduction. It is not possible to know too much of the opposing arguments; for only with the fullest command of all the material can a speaker or writer be armed to meet all the possible at- tacks of an adversary. Read anything on the subject that you can find; talk with afiy one who knows; above all, think — think of all the lines of attack possible, and study out ways to meet them. Keen thinking and thorough knowledge are essential in refutation. It is not necessary or wise to attempt to refute every- thing that can be said on the other side. In every argu- ment there are matters of but slight importance, and there are very important points upon which the whole question turns. He is skillful in debate who sees this essential point in another's argument and makes a tell- ing attack at that point. To take up many trifles is always annoying to an audience; and to avoid the main points of the other side gives the impression that the THE BRIEF 295 opposing position is impregnable. Do not dignify trifles with any attention. Waste no ammunition on outposts; center the attack upon some strategic point. It is difficult to give rules for the position of refuta- tion in an argument. Refutation may be divided into refutation of special points of proof and refutation of major contentions. Refutation of special points should be taken up wherever one*s own argument touches those points. Such refutation should never be reserved to the end; for it is more easily understood if considered in its relation to the direct proof, and this arrangement saves the end of an argument from being scrappy and disjointed. A general refutation of some major proposition should be considered in the body of an argument whenever it can be introduced successfully in connection with direct proof. Often such refutation cannot be incidental to the direct proof, but is so important that it must of itself form a division of the whole argument. In this case the refutation stands either at the beginning or at the end. If the audience is prejudiced against the position you hold, it is necessary to overcome this pre- judice before any advance can be made in establishing your own contention. The refutation then stands at the beginning. If, on the other hand, the audience is favorable or without any hostile feeling, then the usual place for the refutation is at the end of the argument. Still the old principle that what is said last leaves the greatest impression should warn a writer of the dan- ger to be encountered in giving the opposing arguments this position of great emphasis. If the refutation must stand at the end, it must scatter the opposition, and it must be followed by a re-statement of the direct argu- ment so powerful and so convincing that the opponent's 296 FORMS OF DISCOURSE contentions are crushed by the host of marshalled proofs. It is of as much importance that the point to be re- futed shall be clearly stated as that the refutation itself shall be complete. Otherwise what was meant to be refutation may seem to be direct proof. To avoid this kind of confusion, some introductory word should be used to indicate where the refutation is to begin. Burke says : — Here, then, I should close; but I plainly perceive some objections remain, which I ought, if possible, to remove. The first will be that, in resorting to the doctrine of our ancestors, as contained in the preamble to the Chester Act, I prove too much. To this objection I answer, . . . Chatham in his speech on The Rewmol of the Troops from Boston says, — But his Majesty is advised that the union in America can- not last. Ministers have more eyes than I, and should have more ears; but with all the information I have been able to procure, I can pronounce it a union solid, permanent, and effectual. And then he gives his reasons for believing the state- ment of the Ministry wrong and his own contention true. So Henry, in an Appeal to Arms, says, — They tell us, sir, that we are weak, unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger.'' . . . Sir, we are not weak, if we make the proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three mil- lions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us In each of these examples, the point to be refuted is made perfectly clear by the orator. THE BRIEF 297 In a debate a speaker often uses some such phrase as, " My opponent has told you that," etc., " but his reasoning is faulty at this point " ; or " Although the statement has been frequently made that," etc., " yet such a statement is not borne out by the facts." Such a method brings into sharp contrast the opposing con- tentions, and leaves no doubt concerning what is to be refuted, and what is the refutation. Refutation should be clearly indicated in the brief. In the eariy briefs of students, it is well to stick to one single set of words to indicate refutation, just as we found it wise always to use jor to indicate a proof. Althoughy followed by the statement which it is your purpose to refute, and yet followed by your refutation, are good words to use; they are clear and simple. The last example in the previous paragraph is an illustra- tion of this. In the ordination of refutation, the following method is usually adopted: The proposition or proof to be refuted is indicated by its appropriate symbol in the brief, — a, or II, or B, — whatever it should be; and the opposing statement is indicated by the same symbol with a " prime " mark ( ' ) to show the relation between the two. Thus if the symbol should be a small letter, a, or by or c, then the refuting statement would be indicated by a', b\ or c'. So A and A', I and l', 1 and l' indicate respectively the proposition to be refuted and the re- futation. To illustrate, Spencer's refutation of the argument that girls would grow rude if allowed to play as they please would be briefed as follows: — a. Although some defender of the proprieties says that unlady- like habits will be formed by free play, yet a' . The fear is groundless, for 298 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 1. Men do not play leap-frog in the street, or marbles in the drawing-room. 2. Women have a finer regard for appearances than men. The following is the complete paragraph: — ** Then girls should be allowed to run wild — to become as rude as boys, and grow up into romps and hoydens! " exclaims some defender of the proprieties. This, we presume, is the ever-present dread of schoolmistresses. It appears, on in- quiry, that at "Establishments for Young Ladies" noisy play like that indulged in by boys, is a punishable offense; and it is to be inferred that this noisy play is forbidden, lest unladylike habits should be formed. The fear is quite groundless, how- ever. For if the sportive activity allowed to boys does not prevent them from growing up into gentlemen, why should a like sportive activity allowed to girls prevent them from grow- ing up into ladies? Rough as may have been their accustomed play-ground frolics, youths who have left school do not indulge in leapfrog in the street, or marbles in the drawing-room. Abandoning their jackets, they abandon at the same time boy- ish games; and display an anxiety — often a ludicrous anx- iety — to avoid whatever is not manly. If now, on arriving at the due age, this feeling of masculine dignity puts so eflS- cient a restraint on the romping sports of boyhood, will not the feeling of feminine modesty, gradually strengthening as maturity is approached, put an eflBcient restraint on the like sports of girlhood? and will there not consequently arise in them even a stronger check to whatever is rough and bois- terous? How absurd is the supposition that the womanly instincts would not assert themselves but for the rigorous discipline of schoolmistresses! This study of refutation leads us to the inevitable con- clusion that when an argument takes the form of debate, definite speeches should not be learned. No man can forecast precisely an opponent's line of argument; and a good debater is one who kno'ws the question thoroughly and is resourceful enough to shift his own attack or defense to meet that of an opponent. He would be a poor THE BRIEF 299 football captain, indeed, who could foresee but one plan of attack and must use his one defense, no matter what the opposing team may do. Yet this is exactly what many young debaters do; they refute what they thought their opponents would say, and give no heed to what they actually do say. Many good phrases and sentences, possibly whole paragraphs, may be written in advance and kept in mind, though not in the exact words, to be rallying points for attack or defense; and several plans of attack should be made to provide for every possible plan of an opponent. But speeches com- mitted to memory, which often miss the entire argu- ment of the opposition, make but a sorry showing in a debate. In addition to knowledge and resourcefulness, ' then, a debater must add this third qualification — he must be a ready talker. EXERCISE Each group of debaters should now have the briefs of their opponents. Study them carefully, and introduce whatever refutation you propose to use at the proper points in your own argument. Now submit to the in- structor the completed brief proper with the refutation included. ///. THE CONCLUSION The conclusion of an argument is a short summary of the whole case. It generally contains an affirmation of the proposition. This may be all, as in Webster's conclu- sion of his address to the jury in the case of the murder of Captain Joseph White. The paragraph is as follows : — Gentlemen, I have gone through with the evidence in this case, and have endeavored to state it plainly and fairly before 800 FORMS OF DISCOURSE you. I think there are conclusions to be drawn from it, the accuracy of which you cannot doubt. I think you cannot doubt that there was a conspiracy formed for the purpose of commit- ting this murder, and who the conspirators were; that you can- not doubt that the Crowninshields and the Knapps were the parties in the conspiracy; that you cannot doubt that the prisoner at the bar knew that the murder was to be done on the night of the 6th of April; that you cannot doubt that the murderers of Captain White were the suspicious persons seen in and around Brown street on that night; that you cannot doubt that Richard Crowninshield was the perpetrator of that crime; that you cannot doubt that the prisoner at the bar was in Brown Street on that night. If there, then it must be by agreement, to countenance, to aid the perpetrator. And if so, then he is guilty as Principal. Frequently there is a re-statement of the major pro- positions by which the main contention was proved. This is found in the following conclusion by Spencer: — We contend, then, that this over-education is vicious in every way — vicious, as giving knowledge that will soon be forgotten; vicious, as producing a disgust for knowledge; vicious, as neglecting that organization of knowledge which is more important than its acquisition; vicious, as weakening or destroying that energy, without which a trained intellect is useless; vicious, as entailing that ill-health for which even success would not compensate, and which makes the future doubly bitter. Whenever a re-statement of the principal proofs forms a part of the conclusion, the order of arrangement may be reversed; that is, whereas in the brief proper the order is unalterably "proposition, then proof," in the conclusion the order may be proofs first, followed by the re-statement of the proposition. The connective indi- cating the relation then becomes " since." This is a very common way of closing a debate, and it is in accord with the principle of Mass in composition. THE PRESENTATION 801 placing at the very end the most important matter — the end for which the argument was made. The following exemplifies this method of conclusion : — Since the management of a high school publication affords excellent training in business methods; since a school paper gives an added interest to school life, and so increases school spirit; since it increases the desire to excel in composition, in that all are ambitious to find some of their work in the school journal; since a school paper may be a great assistance in es- tablishing honorable traditions in a school, therefore every high school with an enrollment adequate to support it should publish a school paper. Whenever there is a recapitulation of proofs in the conclusion, the phrasing should not be changed from that which was adopted in the brief proper. There is a loss in the new words, while there is a distinct gain in a judicious repetition of good phrases, which echo all through an argument and ring out clear in the con- clusion. They stick; and sometimes they turn the deci- sion. Such phrases must be so good that they will bear repetition, and then they should be reiterated. EXERCISE Continuing with the same subject that you have used in the last two exercises, make a brief of your conclusion, and then write it out in full. It will be but one strong paragraph. THE PRESENTATION It was Menander who said that he had his play fin- ished, though he had not written a word of it, meaning that the real work had been done when he had completed the plot. In argumentation one may say, with a higher regard for truth, that his argument is finished, though 802 FORMS OF DISCOURSE he has not written a word of it, if only the brief is com- pleted. In debate this is entirely true, for one ought not to write and commit speeches. In a written argu- ment, it is nearly true; for the phrasing requires very little effort compared with the hard thinking necessary in constructing a brief. Only a few words remain to be said concerning the method of presentation of the argument. A brief is to an argument what a skeleton is to a body. One can see the form an argument will take from the brief, just as the student of zoology sees the form of an animal in the skeleton. However interesting skele- tons may be to anatomists, they are not fascinating to other persons; nor is a brief a charming form of compo- sition to any but debaters. Yet clothe the skeleton with flesh, and so transform its ugliness into lines of beauty, and it becomes attractive even to those ignorant of biology. So a brief may be transformed from an unin- teresting series of items to a graceful plea for some worthy object. How great the transformation is may be appreciated by a study of a brief and a finished ora- tion by Burke or Webster or Curtis. It should be one object of a Writer to present an attractive composition, to hide his outline from sight. To be sure, the keen student of debate will see the outline beneath the powerful plea, but others should not be able to detect it. And the student of debate admires the composition the more when a perfectly articulated brief can be felt beneath the graceful phrases, giving form and strength to the argument. However, an ar- gument should not be lean; there should be enough of amplification to cover the outline. Nor yet should an argument be wordy; for in no form of composition is verbosity so much out of place. Again, in the finished PRINCIPLES OF STRUCTURE 303 argument it is not always necessary to have the order ** proposition, then proof," though that is the invariable form of the brief. Whatever form or order of presenta- tion is clearest, most pleasing, and most forceful should be adopted. PRINCIPLES OF STRUCTURE In the beginning of the chapter on Argumentation, attention was called to the likeness between exposi- tion and argumentation. So much alike are they that there is no need here to do more than briefly rehearse the principles which we found governing that form of discourse. Unity. The unity of an argument is guaranteed if the writer follows the plain road laid out for him in the brief. There should be no excursions from this line of advance, just because some by-path looks attract- ive. Digression in an argument is unpardonable. Stick to the brief. Mass. The order of proofs will be directed more by a regard for coherence than by a regard for mass. Though this is true, as far as possible, without weaken- ing the chain of argument, proofs should be arranged in the order of climax. This does not mean, however, that the weakest argument should come first, and the next stronger should follow, and so on until the last and strongest is reached. After the introduction has been completed, it is wise to open the argument proper with some matter strong enough to convince the reader that the writer knows what he is contending for, and that he can strike a hard blow. Then again, it is evident that in all arguments there are main points in the dis- cussion that must be established by points of minor importance. The main proofs should be arranged in 904, FORMS OF DISCOURSE logical climax, and the sub-topics that go to support one of the main divisions may have their smaller climax. An argument gains strength when it advances from weak to strong. Proportion. Another principle that should be recalled is Proportion. A writer should not waste time on trifles. Things of importance should be emphasized by length of treatment. Never forget that the establishment of a great matter is so important to an argument that many lesser matters had better be entirely omitted, if that is necessary. Use your time and strength in doing a big thing; never believe that the weight of an argu- ment is measured by the number of proofs offered. Fifty trifles cannot balance one great proposition. Coherence. Coherence of thought has already been secured in making the brief. The thing of importance now is to express clearly that close relation of parts. The careful use of pronouns and conjunctions to show the relation of one thought to another; the frequent re- petition of words to bind clauses to some preceding sen- tence; the constant use of summaries and transitions; the intelligent application of the principle of parallel construction — all mark the workmanship of a person eager to make clear to others what is clear to himself. Of these principles, stress should be laid upon paral- lel construction, transitions, and summaries. Parallel construction may be used oftener in argumentation than in exposition. In exposition it seems formal and stilted, when followed to any degree; but this rarely occurs in argumentation or persuasion. It gives clear- ness to a series of statements; and in debate, where the parts have not been committed, it will hardly be over- done. Good examples have already been given in the chapter on Exposition. Another good one may be found PRINCIPLES OF STRUCTURE 305 in paragraph 133 of the Conciliation, beginning with the words, " Compare the two." As one of the first requisites of good argument is that it shall be clear, transitions and summaries are extremely important. Nothing more conduces to clearness than a short summary of the case up to the point where some new proposition is to be introduced. It clears the way for the new matter, and allows the hearer time to per- ceive the relation of the next step in the proof to what has preceded. So, too, every twist and turn in the argument should be clearly indicated by words or clauses of transition. They point the way for the hearer, and save him many a useless wandering from the line of argument. Wherever a short summary or a word of transition will make the argument clearer, that word or sentence should be used. Sincerity. The use of persuasion in argumentation has been mentioned several times, and one word of ad- vice may be useful. Believe in your subject. While it is good training to make briefs on both sides of a ques- tion, and in debate it is necessary, no person can ever be at his best in speech unless he believes what he is saying. Choice words, fine phrases, apt illustrations, figures of speech, which seem to spring from the dis- cussion, all go for little when the words do not burn with a real emotion. The unlettered man in his smock may thrill his hearers while the well-schooled preacher in his frock sends his audience away with no desire for noble action. It is earnestness and sincerity which rouse men to action, and earnest sincerity needs no art to make itself felt. For as the emotion of a speaker rises, conscious only of his message, his words descend to the plane of every-day life. Believe in your subject; be sincere; be earnest; be simple. Then will the words S06 FORMS OF DISCOURSE of your argument be tipped with fire and go straight to the hearts of your hearers. Above all, be fair and honest; only so can you gain the favor of your audience, and gain what is worth more than victory — the dis- tinction of being a servant of truth. EXERCISE Following the brief you have prepared, write the complete argument. Give especial attention to your summaries and transitions as a means of making the argument clear. ADDITIONAL SUBJECTS FOR ARGUMENTATION 1. The French contributed more to the victory at Yorktown than the Americans. 2. England's demands, which later brought on the Revolu- tionary War, were just. 5. The treatment of Benedict Arnold by most historians has been unfair. 4. The Northmen discovered America. 6. The Mexican War was not justifiable. 6. Final examinations should be given in high schools to determine the term standings. 7. Secret societies in high schools are injurious to the best interests of the pupils. 8. An honor system of conducting examinations raises the standard of honesty among students. 9. Admission to college should be by examination only. 10. Coeducation is for the best interests of students attending public schools. 11. All professional schools should require at least two years of college work before students are allowed to take up their special studies. 12. No prizes shall be offered for merit in work of high schools. 13. Pupils should be supplied with free text-books in the high school. 14. All studies in a high-school course shall be elective. SUBJECTS FOR ARGUMENTATION 307 15. A standard play should be presented each year by stu- dents in the high school. 16. Slot machines for vending goods by chance are harm- ful. 17. Moving picture shows are an injury to the morals of the youth. 18. Bill-board advertising should be prohibited. 19. At the graduation exercises of high schools essays and ora- tions by the graduates should not be allowed. 20. The public schools should make provision for the large numbers of youth leaving school to enter industry at the age of fifteen. 21. A college course should be limited to three years. 22. No student at college should be permitted to play on any team in an intercollegiate contest until he has completed one year of college work in the school he represents. 23. Organized labor should enter politics. 24. Direct nominations are superior to nominations made by caucus and convention. 25. The President of the United States should serve but one term of six years. 26. In a trial, except in cases of trial for murder, it shall not require a unanimous verdict to convict. 27. Equal suffrage should be granted to men and women. 28. The introduction of machinery has been an injury to the laboring men. 29. The present scale of expenditures by the Government on account of the navy is unnecessary. 30. The conditions of industry would be improved by the closed shop. 31. Wages of men and women should be the same for the same service. 32. Prohibition is better than high license as a solution of the liquor problem. 33. The elimination of private profits in the business offers the best solution of the liquor problem. 34. Labor by children under the age of fourteen should be prohibited by the state. S5. All persons legally qualified shall be compelled to vote, unless excused for sickness. 36. Vivisection shall be prohibited. 308 FORMS OF DISCOURSE 37. Old-age pensions shall be granted to every man above sixty-five years of age. 38. The boycott as a means of securing concessions from em- ployers is justifiable. 39. All public buildings should be closed on Sunday. 40. Ex-Presidents of the United States should be made senators for life. 41. The Commission Form of government should be adopted by all cities. 42. The United States should adopt a parcels-post system. 43. The sale of cigarettes should be prohibited by the state. 44. Rooting that is intended to confuse an opposing team in a contest is dishonorable. 45. Every young man should earn his own way through col- lege. 46. No person should be allowed to vote in municipal aflFairs unless he is an owner of property to the amount of one hundred dollars. 47. The treatment of the Indians by the Government has been unjust. 48. The United States should retain the Philippines. CHAPTER VII FIGURES OF SPEECH Figurative Language. There is a generally accepted division o| language into literal and figurative. Lan- guage that is literal uses words in their accepted and accurate meaning. Figurative language employs words with meanings not strictly literal, but varying from their ordinary definitions. Much of our language is figurative. When a person says, " He is a bright boy,*' he has used the word "bright" in a sense that is not literal; the use is fig- urative. Id the following there is hardly a sentence that has not some variation from literal language : — Down by the river there is, as yet, little sign of spring. Its bed is all choked with last year's reeds, trampled about like a manger. Yet its running seems to have caught a hap- pier note, and here and there along its banks flash silvery wands of palm. Right down among the shabby burnt-out underwood moves the sordid figure of a man. His hat is battered, and he wears no collar. I don't like staring at his face, for he has been unfortunate. Yet a glimpse tells me that he is far down the hill of life, old and drink-corroded at fifty. — Le Gallienne. In the second sentence there are at least three figura- tive expressions. " Bed," " choked," and " trampled about like a manger " are not literal. So, too, in the next sentence there are two beautiful variations from literal expression. Going on through the selection, the reader will find frequently some happy change from 810 FIGURES OF SPEECH literalness — sometimes just a word, sometimes a phrase. Figurative language is of great value. It adds clear- ness to our speech; it gives it more force; or it imparts to literature added beauty. The last use is the most common; indeed, it is so common that the other uses are sometimes overlooked. However, in a sentence like the following, the comparison is of value because it gives clearness to the thought, although it does not state a literal truth : -^ In the early history of our planet, the moon was flung oflE into space, as mud is thrown from a turning wagon wheel. The following is a good illustration of the gain in force by the use of figurative language: — The Alps themselves, which your own poets used to love so reverently, you look upon as soaped poles in a bear-garden, which you set yourselves to climb and slide down again with "shrieks of delight." — Ruskin. The next is an illustration of a figure used for beauty: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven. Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. A figure of speech is any use of words with a sense varying from their literal definition, to secure clearness, force, or beauty of expression. Figures add so much to the attractiveness of liter- ature that every one would like to use them. Yet fig- ures should never be sought for. When they come of themselves, when they insist on being used, and are a part of the thought itself, and seem to be its only ade- quate expression, then they should be used. In most cases figures are ornaments of literature; it must be FIGURES OF SPEECH 311 remembered that ornament is always secondary, and that no ornament is good unless it is in entire harmony with the thing it is to beautify. When a figure suggests itself, it must be so clearly seen that there can be no mixing of images. Some people are determined to use figures, and they force them into every possible place. The result is that there is often a confusion of comparisons. The follow- ing is bad: " His name went resounding in golden let- ters through the corridors of time." Just how a name could resound " in golden letters " is a difficult question. Longfellow used the last phrase of the figure beauti- fully:— Not from the grand old masters. Not from the bards sublime. Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of time. Of the two hundred or more figures of speech which have been named and defined, only a few need be men- tioned here. And the purpose is not that you shall use them more, but that you may recognize them when you meet them in literature. Figures based upon likeness. There is a large group of figures of speech based upon likeness. One thing is so much like another that it is spoken of as like it ; or, more frequently, one is said to be the other. Yet if the things compared are very much alike, there is no figure. To say that a cat is like a panther is not considered figura- tive. It is when in objects essentially different we detect and name some likeness that we say there is a figure of speech. There is at first thought no likeness between hope and a nurse; yet were it not for hope most persons would be sick at heart. Thackeray was right when he said that " Hope is the nurse of life." 312 FIGURES OF SPEECH The principal figures based upon likeness are simile, metaphor, epithet, personification, apostrophe, and allegory. A simile is an expressed comparison between unlike things that have a common quality. This comparison is usually indi- cated by like or as. The smaller stars, like little children, went first to bed. Far in the distance the river gleamed like a flashing sword of silver. How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. A metaphor is an implied comparison between things essen- tially different, but having some common quality. Metaphor is by far the most common figure of speech; indeed, so common is it that figurative language is often called metaphorical. The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep. Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes. Life is not an idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears. And dipt in baths of hissing tears. And battered with the shocks of doom To shape and use. Only a little removed from metaphor is epithet. An epithet is a word, generally an adjective, used not to qual- ify or to give information, but to point out and impart strength or ornament to diction. Alexander the Great; Aristides the Just; Richard the Lion- hearted. Hearken, my white-armed women, while I speak. Blue-eyed Day, throned on his diamond car. FIGURES OF SPEECH 313 Personification is a figure that ascribes to inanimate things, to abstract ideas, or to the lower animals the attributes of human beings. It is plain that there must be some resemblance of the lower to the higher, else this figure could not be used. Personification, like the epithet, is a modification of the metaphor. Indeed, in every personification there is also a metaphor. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees And they did make no noise. Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad. Apostrophe is an address to the dead as if living; to abstract ideas or inanimate objects as if they were persons. It is a variety of personification. Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour. O star-eyed Science! thou hast wandered far. An allegory is an extended metaphor, in which concrete ob- jects are made to represent things spiritual in order to present high truths with vividness and power. Bunyan*s Pilgrim's Progress and Spenser's Faerie Queene are good examples of allegory. Figures based upon other relations. There are some figures of speech that are based not upon resemblance but upon some other relation. Two things may be so related that the name of the one will suggest the other with greater vividness or added meaning. The most common of these figures are metonymy, allusion, and hyperbole.' » Formerly synecdoche was given as a figure of speech. It is now gener- ally included in the definition of metonymy. Synecdoche is a figure of speech in which a part is used for the whole, or rarely, the whole for a part. The red-coats are marching. 314 FIGURES OF SPEECH Metonymy is a figure of speech in which one term is used for another to which it is closely related. The most common relations are cause and effect, sign and thing signified, part and whole, container and thing contained. With that shot, a nation was turned from paeans of victory to the knell of a great defeat. From the cradle to the grave is but a day. , I did dream of money-bags to-night. Fifty sail came into harbor. Allusion is a figure of speech in which, for rhetorical effect, a reference is made to some familiar fact of history or literature. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! Men still sigh for the fleshpots of Egypt; still worship the golden calf. There is no "Open Sesame" to the treasures of learning; they must be acquired by hard study. Milton and Shakespeare are full of allusions to the classic literature of Greece and Rome. Hyperbole is an exaggerated statement made for effect. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us, till our ground. Singeing his pate against the burning zone. Make Ossa like a wart! Figures based upon sentence structure. There are a number of variations of sentence structure, which are made for emotional effect, and hence are generally classed among figures of speech. Among these are interrogation, climax, and irony. FIGURES OF SPEECH 315 Interrogation is a figure in which a question is asked, not to get an answer, but for the sake of emphasis. Do men gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles? Fear ye foes who kill for hire? Will ye to your homes retire? Lear : Doth any here know me ? This is not Lear: Doth Lear walk thus ? speak thus ? Where are his eyes ? Climax is a figure in which the intensity of the thought and emo- tion gradually increases with the successive groups of words or phrases. Your children do not grow faster from infancy to manhood than they [the American colonists] spread from families to communities, from villages to nations. Irony is a figure in which one thing is said and the opposite is meant And Job answered and said, No doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, — For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men, — Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. EXERCISE Name the figures in the following sentences. Of those that are based on likeness, tell in what the resemblance consists. In many of the selections more than one figure will be found. ^ 1. The long, hard winter of his youth had ended; the spring- time of his manhood was turning green like the woods. 2. A pig came up to a horse and said, "Your feet are crooked, and your hair is worth nothing." * In any piece of literature there are many figures. The following should be used only to make yourselves familiar with varieties of figures. You will find many more in the literature you read. S16 FIGURES OF SPEECH 3. The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but war was in his heart; his words were softer than oil, but they were drawn swords. 4. The lily maid of Astolat. 5. You have a nimble wit: I think *t was made of Atalanta*s heels. 6. The birch, most shy and ladylike of trees. Her poverty, as best she may, retrieves. And hints at her foregone gentilities With some saved relics of her wealth of leaves. 7. O friend, never strike sail to a fear! Come into port grandly, or sail with God the seas! 8. Primroses smile and daisies cannot frown. 9. How deeply and warmly and spotlessly Earth's naked- ness is clothed! — the "wool" of the Psalmist nearly two feet deep. And as far as warmth and protection are concerned, there is a good deal of the virtue of wool in such a snow-fall. It is a veritable fleece, beneath which the shivering earth ("the frozen hills ached with pain," says one of our young poets) is restored to warmth. 10. We can win no laurels in a war for independence. Ear- lier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor are there places for us by the side of Solon and Alfred and other founders of States. Our fathers have filled them. 11. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my judgment was as a robe and diadem. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was father to the poor; and the cause which I knew not I searched out. And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and plucked the spoil out of his teeth. 12. His head and his heart were so well combined that he could not avoid becoming a power in his community. 13. Spenser, writing of honor, says: — In woods, in waves, in wars, she wonts to dwell, And will be found with peril and with pain; Nor can the man that moulds an idle cell Unto her happy mansion attain : BeWe her gate high God did Sweat ordain. And wakeful watches ever to abide; FIGURES OF SPEECH 817 But easy is the way and passage plain To pleasure's palace: it may soon be spied. And day and night her doors to all stand open wide. 14. Over the vast green sea of the wilderness, the moon swung her silvery lamp. 15. The peace of thie golden sunshine was supreme. Even a tiny cloudlet anchored in the limitless sky would not sail to-day. 16. A short way further along, I came across a boy gather- ing palm. He is a town boy, and has come all the way from Whitechapel thus early. He has already gathered a great bundle — worth five shillings to him, he says. This same palm will to-morrow be distributed over London, and those who buy sprigs of it by the Bank will know nothing of the blue-eyed boy who gathered it, and the murmuring river by which it grew. And the lad, once more lost in some squalid court, will be a sort of Sir John Mandeville to his companions — a Sir John Mandeville of the fields, with their water-rats, their birds' eggs, and many other wonders. And one can imagine him saying, "And the sparrows there fly right up into the sun, and sing like angels." But he won't get his comrades to believe that. 17. We wandered to the Pine Forest That skirts the Ocean's foam; The lightest wind was in its nest. The tempest in its home. The whispering waves were half asleep. The clouds were gone to play. And on the bosom of the deep The smile of heaven lay; It seemed as if the hour were one Sent from beyond the skies. Which scattered from above the sun The light of Paradise. We paused amid the pines that stood The giants of the waste. Tortured by storms to shapes as rude As serpents interlaced, — S18 FIGURES OF SPEECH And soothed by every azure breath That under heaven is blown. To harmonies and hues beneath. As tender as its own: Now all the tree-tops lay asleep Like green waves on the sea. As still as in the silent deep The ocean woods may be. 18. When a bee brings pollen into the hive, he advances to the cell in which it is to be deposited and kicks it off as one might his overalls or rubber boots, making one foot help the other; then he walks off without ever looking behind him ; another bee, one of the indoor hands, comes along and rams it down with his head and packs it in the cell as the dairy-maid packs butter into a firkin. 19. For thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starved, and ravenous. 20. What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! 21. And in her cheeks the vermeil red did shew Like roses in a bed of lilies shed. 22. The early rose-fingered dawn appeared. 23. A true poet is not one whom they can hire by money and flattery to be a minister of their pleasures, their writer of occasional verses, their purveyor of table wit; he cannot be their menial, he cannot even be their parti- san. At the peril of both parties let no such union be attempted. Will a Courser of the Sun work softly in the harness of a Dray-horse.'^ His hoofs are of fire, and his path is through the heavens, bringing light to all lands; will he lumber on mud highways, dragging ale for earthly appetites from door to door? 24. Hath a dog money? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats? FIGURES OF SPEECH 319 25. Kind hearts are more than coronets. And simple faith than Norman blood. 26. They sleep together, — the gray and the blue. 27. Have not the Indians been kindly and justly treated? Have not the temporal things — the vain baubles and filthy lucre of this world — which were apt to engage their worldly and selfish thoughts, been benevolently taken from them? And have they not, instead thereof, been taught to set their affections on things above ? 28. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. 29. His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine. And they fell on Sir Launfal as snows on the brine. That mingle their softness and quiet in one With the shaggy unrest they float down upon. 30. Too much red tape caused a great amount of suffering in the beginning of the war. 31. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. 32. The old Mountain has thrown a stone at us for fear we should forget him. He sometimes, nods his head, and threatens to come down. S3. But pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white — then melts forever; Or like the borealis race. That flit ere you can point their place ; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. CHAPTER VIII VERSE FORMS Accent. Though no one is inclined to sing prose, no pupil has passed through the graded schools without being told that he should not sing verse. One can scarcely help singing verse, and one cannot well sing prose. What is there about the form that leads us to sing verses of poetry? For example, when we read the first lines of The Lady of the Lake, we fall naturally into a singsong which can be represented by musical notation as follows: — ; J ;j ; J ij I The stag | at eve 1 had drunk | his fill, I Where danced | the moon | on Mo|nan's rill, | I And deep | his mid [night lair | had made | I In lone | Glenart|ney's ha|zel shade. | The second, fourth, sixth, and eighth syllables in each of these lines are naturally accented in reading, while the other syllables are read without stress. The eight syl- lables of each hue fall naturally into groups of two, an unaccented syllable followed by an accented syllable, just as in the musical notation given, an unaccented eighth note is followed by an accented quarter. In Hiawatha the accented syllable comes first, and the unaccented follows it. VERSE FORMS S21 J ; j ; J ; J ; I By the | shores of | Gitchie | Gumee, | { By the I shining | Big-Sea [-Water, | I Stood the I wigwam | of No|komis, | I Daughter | of the | Moon, No|komis. | So, too, there are groups of three syllables. In such a group, the accent may fall on either the first or the last; and possibly, at rare intervals, upon the middle syllable. The first two lines below are from The Bridge of Sighs; the accent is on the first syllable of the group. I Touch her not ] scornfully; I I Think of her | mournfully. | So it is in the line from Longfellow, — i Better be | dead and for|gotten, than | living in | shame and dis-| honor. Now take the following lines from Lochinvar, in which the accent falls on the last syllable of the group. I There was rac|ing and chasjing on Can|nobie Lee, | I But the lost I bride of Neth|erby ne'er | did they see. | And these from Browning's How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix: — I And his low | head and crest, I just one sharp | ear bent back | I For my voice, | and the oth|er pricked out | on his track; | I And one eye's | black intel|ligence, — evier that glance | 1 O'er its white | edge at me, | his own masjter, askance! | (For a group of three syllables accented on the sec- ond, see the " Note " on page 322.) Kinds of feet. In all these verses it will be noted that in each group of syllables there is one accented syl- lable combined with either one or two unaccented 322 VERSE FORMS syllables. Such a group of syllables is called a /oof. The foot is the basis of verse; and the repetition of any kind of foot gives to each verse its own pecuhar swing, or rhythm. A foot is a group of syllables composed of one accented syllable combined with one or more unaccented syllables. There are four forms of poetic feet in common use in Enghsh poetry. They are iambus, trochee, dactyl, and anapest. An iambus is a two-syllable foot accented on the last syllable. Verse made of feet of this kind is called iambic. It is by far the most common foot in English poetry. I Old Kaslpar took | it from | the boy. | A trochee is a two-syllable foot accented on the first syllable. Verse made of feet of this kind is called trochaic. I Armour's | clang or | war-steed | champing. | A dactyl^ is a three-syllable foot accented on the first syllable. Verse made of feet of this kind is called dactylic. I We that had | lov'd him so, | follow'd him, | honor'd him. | An anapest^ is a three -syllable foot accented on the last syl- lable. It is a reversed dactyl. Verse made of feet of this kind is called anapestic. I And it's room | for the bon|nets of bon|ny Dundee. | Note. Two other feet are occasionally found in English poetry: the amphibrach and the spondee. An amphibrach (from a Greek word meaning "short at both ends") is a three-syllable foot accented on the middle syllable. There are a few lines in English verse that seem to be made up of 1 From the Greek word signifying " finger," applied to this foot, because, like the finger, it is made of one long joint and two shorter. 2 From a Greek word meaning " thrown back, reversed." VERSE FORMS 323 amphibrachs; but they are very few. And even these may always be scanned in some other way. I O talk not | to me of I a name great I in story, | i The days of I our youth are | the days of | our glory. | A spondee is a two-syllable foot in which both syllables are long and receive the accent about equally. It is not found in English verse except as an occasional foot. I Wee folk, I good folk, I I Trooping | all tolgether. | Kinds of verse. A single foot, no matter what its kind, seldom stands alone; but in combination with other feet it makes up a line, or verse. A single line of poetry is called a verse. A group of verses makes a stanza. A verse may be made up of any number of feet from one to eight. Its name is derived from the word meter, meaning "measure," with a prefix signifying some number: mono, one; di, two; tri, three; tetrayiour; penta, five; hexa, six; hepta, seven; octo, eight. Verse made of one foot is called monometer (mo nom'e ter). It is almost never used throughout a poem, except for fun; but it is sometimes found as an occasional line in a poem that is made of longer verses. Then nightly sings the staring owl, I Tu-wbh. 1 Verse made of two feet is called dimeter (dim'e ter). It, too, is uncommon. It rarely makes up a whole poem; but it often appears as an occasional line. I Ye are young,] ye are young, | 1 1 am old,|Iamold; | 824 VERSE FORMS I And the song | has been sung, I And the sto|ry been told. | So long Thy power hath blessed me, sure it still I Will lead | me on,| O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till I The night | is gone; | And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. Verse made of three feet is called trimeter (trim'e ter). I Good thoughts 1 his on|ly friends, | His wealth a well-spent age. The earth his sober inn And quiet pilgrimage. Verse made of fotir feet is called tetrameter (tet ram'e ter). Marmion and Hiawatha are written in tetrameter. Verse made of five feet is called pentameter (pen tam'e ter). This line is very common in English poetry. It gives room enough for the poet to say something, and is not so long that it breaks down with its own weight. Shake- sp)eare*s plays, Milton's Paradise LosU Tennyson's Idylls of the King, — indeed, most of the great, serious work of the master-poets has been done in this verse. Verse made of six feet is called hexameter (hex am'e ter). This is the form adopted in the Iliad and the Odyssey of the Greeks, and the Mneid of the Romans; it has been used sometimes by English writers in treating dignified subjects. The Courtship of Miles Standish and Evangeline are written in hexameter. Verses of seven and eight feet are rare; they are called heptameter (hep tam'e ter) and octameter (oc tam'- e ter), respectively. The heptameter is usually divided into a tetrameter and a trimeter; the octameter, into VERSE FORMS 325 two tetrameters. Poe*s Raven and Tennyson*s Locksley Hall are in octameter; Bryant's The Death of the Flowers is in heptameter. Scansion. Scansion is the separation of a verse into its component feet. Poetry was originally sung or chanted by bards and minstrels. The accompaniment was a simple strumming on a harp of very few strings, and was hardly more than the beating of time. The chanting must have been much like the sing-song that some people fall into when read- ing verses now. The first thing in scanning a line of poetry is to drop into its rhythm — to let it sing itself. When the regular accent is felt, the lines can easily be separated into their metrical feet. Read these lines from Marmion, and mark only the accented syllables : — And there she stood so calm and pale. That but her breathing did not fail. And motion slight of eyes and head. And of her bosom warranted That neither sense nor pulse she lacks. You might have thought a form of wax Wrought to the very life was there; So still she was, so pale, so fair. The marked verses have an accented syllable pre- ceded by an unaccented syllable. Such a foot is iambic. There are four feet in each verse; so the poem is written in iambic tetrameter. In the same way, we name all the verses of poetry by the prevailing kind of foot and the number of feet. So we decide that Hiawatha is written in trochaic tetrameter; the verse in The Merchant of Venice in iambic pentameter; and The Courtship of Miles Standish in dactylic hexameter. Variations in verse. Verses are not always as reg- ular as those from Hiawatha and Marmion; and in 326 VERSE FORMS order to scan a verse correctly, it is necessary to know the most common variations found in poetry. This stanza is from Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower, written in iambics. Yet in the fourth line and again in the fifth occurs an anapest. The stars of midnight shall be dear To her, and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place 11 s I Where riv|ulets dance | their way | ward round, j 12 8 And beau|ty bom | of mur [muring sound | Shall pass into her face. The following lines are from My Heart *s in the High- lands, in which the prevailing foot is anapestic. Yet every line begins with an iambus. 1 s My heart's | in the Highjlands, my heart | is not here; | My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer. Here are the first four lines of Dickens's poem The Ivy Green; the feet are so interchanged that it is difficult to tell whether the prevailing foot is iambic or anapestic. lis IS ISSl s Oh, a dain|ty plant | is the i|vy green, | 1 2 I J 8 I « That creepleth o'er ru|ins old! | Of right choice food are his meals, I ween. In his cell so lone and cold. From these illustrations w^e see that so long as the accent remains on the last syllable of the foot, there is no break in the flow of the lines. The substitution of an iambus for an anapest, or an anapest for an iambus, is very common. Now, using Hiawatha, a poem in trochees, we find that sometimes a dactyl may be used in place of a trochee. VERSE FORMS 327 I And he | journeyed | without | resting, | ISl 3 lis It I Till he I heard the | cataract's | laughter. | So, too, in Evangeliney a poem written in dactyls, there will be found many trochees. For example, — lis 12 1 33 13 13S 1 Solemnly | down the | street came the | parish | priest, and the | chil- dren I Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them. Here again we find that substitution does not disturb the rhythm provided the accent remains upon the first syllable of the foot; that is to say, dactyls and trochees are interchangeable. The important thing always is that the accent must remain regular, must fall on the same syllable of the foot. Now we may go a step further. An iambus is the com- mon foot in English verse. It is made of an unaccented and an accented syllable. An unaccented syllable at the beginning of a poem seems weak; and so very often the first foot of an iambic poem is a trochee. Moreover, a trochee is sometimes found at the beginning of iambic lines other than the opening line. At the beginning of the line this irregularity does not strike one; it scarcely breaks the rhythm. 13 1' 2 12 12 I Under | a spread jing chest [nut tree | 12 12 1 The vil|lagesmith|y stands. | 12 12 1 2 I He hears | his daughjter's voice Singing | in the vil|lage choir. | But there are times when some sudden change of thought, some emotion, forces a poet to break the smooth rhythm, that the verses may harmonize with his 328 VERSE FORMS feeling. The following is taken from Annabel Lee. The regular foot has the accent on the last syllable. But note the shudder in the third line when the accent is changed on the word "chilling." The music and the thought are in perfect harmony. And this was the reason that, long ago. In this kingdom by the sea, 13 IS 1S8 IS I A wind I blew out | of a cloud | chilling | I My beau|tiful An|nabel Lee. | Of all the great poets, but few have been such masters of the art of making musical verse as Spenser. The fol- lowing stanza is from The Faerie Queene; the delicate changes from one foot to another are so skillfully made that one has to look twice before he finds them. A little lowly hermitage it was, tsis 1 sist s I Down in | a dale, | hard by | a for | est's side, | Far from resort of people that did pass In travel to and fro; a little wide There was a holy chapel edified. Wherein a hermit duly went to say His holy things each mom and eventide; Thereby a crystal stream did gently play. Which from a sacred fountain welled forth alway. Extra Syllables. We come now to another kind of variation. These four verses are from an old English song, and they run very smoothly; yet if one notices carefully, one will find an extra syllable in the second and fourth lines. When Christmas comes about again I O then I I shall I have mon[ey]; | I'll hoard it up, and box it all, I'll give it to my honey. VERSE FORMS 329 So, too, in these lines the same thing is found: — Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, I As his corse | to the ram [parts we hur[ried]; | Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we bur[ied]. Whenever a verse is iambic or anapestic, there may he an extra unaccented syllable at the end of the line. Omission of syllables. Now if we examine the fol- lowing, we shall find quite a diflFerent variation. 1 s I Sleep! the | deer is | in his | den; "1 1 I Sleep! thy | hounds are | by thee | lying; | I 2 I Sleep! nor | dream in | yonder | glen •] | I How thy I gallant | steed lay \ dying. | I J s I Home from the | Indies and [ home from the | ocean, i | I Heroes and | soldiers we | all shall come | home ; 1 T | 1 S 3 Still we shall find the old mill wheel in | motion, 1 | 1 S 8 Turning and churning that river to | foam. •! "l | In both these stanzas the accent is on the first syllable of the foot. And in both, unaccented syllables are omitted from the last foot of corresponding lines. In the first, written in trochees, the unaccented syllable is omitted in the last foot of the first and third lines. In the other stanza, written in dactyls, one unaccented syllable is left off in the first and third lines, making the last foot a trochee, and both unaccented syllables are omitted in the second and fourth lines. Whenever a verse is trochaic or anapestic, unaccented syllables may be omitted from the last foot. Sometimes unaccented syllables are omitted from other feet in a verse. The omission of unaccented syl- 8S0 VERSE FORMS lables at the beginning or end of lines causes no inter- ruption in the onward flow of the verses, but the omission of unaccented syllables in the midst of the line introduces a long pause between the feet and renders the accented syllables very emphatic. This is forcefully illustrated by Tennyson*s — 1 s I 1 ** Br^k. I 1 break, | i break! | I On thy cold | grey stones, | O sea! | I And I would | that my tongue ] could ut[ter] | j The thoughts | that arise | in me." | Determining the meter. In scanning, then, it is necessary Firsty to determine, by reading a number of verses, the kind of foot that predominates, and to make this the basis of the metrical scheme. Second, to remember that one kind of foot may be substituted for another, at the will of the poet, introduc- ing into the poem a delicate variety of rhythm to har- monize with the variety of emotion. Third, to keep in mind that unaccented syllables may be omitted from a foot, especially from the last foot, and that an extra syllable may be added to a line. Kinds of poetry. It is a diflBcult thing to give a definition of poetry. Many have done so, yet no one has been fortunate enough to have his definition go with- out criticism. In general, it may be said that poetry deals with serious subjects, that it appeals to the feelings more than to the reason, that it employs beautiful lan- guage, and that it is written in some metrical form. Poetry has been divided into three great classes : nar- rative, lyric, and dramatic. (1) Narrative Poetry. Narrative poetry deals with VERSE FORMS 331 events, real or imaginary. It includes, among other va- rieties, the epic, the metrical romance, the tale, and the ballad. The epic is a narrative poem of elevated character, generally telling of the exploits of heroes. The Iliad of the Greeks, the Mneid of the Romans, the Nibelungenlied of the Germans, Beowulf of the Anglo- Saxons, and Paradise Lost are good examples of the epic. The metrical romance is any fictitious narrative of heroic, mar- velous, or supernatural incidents derived from history or legend, and told at considerable length. The Idylls of the King are metrical romances. The tale is but little different from the romance. It leaves the field of legend and occupies the place in poetry that a story or a novel does in prose. Mar- mion and Enoch Arden are tales. A ballad is a short narrative poem, generally rehearsing but one incident. It is usually vigorous in style, grace and elegance being minor considerations. Sir Patrick Spens, The Battle of Otterburne, and Chevy Chase are examples. (2) Lyric poetry. Lyric poetry finds its source in the author's feelings and emotions. In this it differs from narrative poetry, which finds its material in external events and circumstances. Epic poetry is written in a grand style, generally in pentameter or hexameter; while the lyric adopts any verse that suits the emotion. The principal classes of lyric poetry are the song, the ode, the elegy, and the sonnet. The song is a short poem intended to be sung. It has a great variety of meters and is generally divided into stanzas. Sweet and Low; Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon; John Anderson, My Jo, John, are songs. 882 VERSE FORMS An ode is a lyric expressing exalted emotion; it usually has a complex and varied metrical form. Collins's The Passions, Wordsworth's Intimations of Immortality, and Lowell's Commemoration Ode, are well known. An elegy is a serious poem pervaded by a feeling of melancholy. It is generally written to commemorate the death of some friend or hero. Milton's Lyddas and Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard are examples of this form of lyric. Tennyson's Ode on the Death of the Duke of Well- ington is also an elegy. A sonnet is a lyric that deals with a single thought, idea, or sentiment in a fixed metrical form. The sonnet always contains fourteen lines. It has, too, a very definite rhyme scheme. Some of the best English sonnets have been written by Shakespeare, Wordsworth, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. (3) Dramatic poetry. Dramatic poetry presents a course of human events, and is generally designed to be spoken on the stage. Because such poetry presents human character in action, the term "dramatic" has come to be applied to any poetry having this quality. Many of Browning's poems are dramatic in this sense. In the first sense of the word, dramatic poetry includes comedy and tragedy. Tragedy is drama in which the diction is dignified, the move- ment impressive, and the ending unhappy. Comedy is drama of a light and amusing character, with a happy conclusion to its plot. EXERCISE Enough of each poem is given below so that the kind of meter can be determined. For each quotation name the verse form and write the verse scheme. Some hard VERSE FORMS 333 work will be necessary to work out the irregular lines, but it is only by work on these that any ability in scan- ning can be gained. Always read a stanza two or three times to get the swing of the rhythm. Remember the silences, and the substitutions that may be made. 1. I stood on the bridge at midnight As the clocks were striking the hour. And the moon rose o'er the city. Behind the dark church-tower. Among the long black rafters The wavering shadows lay. And the current that came from the ocean Seemed to lift and bear them away. 2. All things are new; — the buds, the leaves. That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest. And even the nest beneath the eaves; — There are no birds in last year's nest! 3. Meanwhile we did our nightly chores, — Brought in the wood from out of doors. Littered the stalls, and from the mows Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows; Heard the horse whinnying for his corn; And, sharply clashing horn on horn. Impatient down the stanchion rows The cattle shake their walnut bows; While, peering from his early perch Upon the scaffold's pole of birch. The cock his crested helmet bent And down his querulous challenge sent. 4. You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: A mile or so away. On a little mound. Napoleon Stood on our storming day; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how. Legs wide, arms locked behind. S84 VERSE FORMS As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. 5. Come, read to me some poem. Some simple and heartfelt lay. That shall soothe this restless feeling. And banish the thoughts of day. 6. Hickory, dickory, dock. The mouse ran up the clock; The clock struck one. And the mouse ran down; Hickory, dickory, dock. 7. Two brothers had the maiden, and she thought. Within herself: "I would I were like them; For then I might go forth alone, to trace The mighty rivers downward to the sea. And upward to the brooks that, through the year. Prattle to the cool valleys. I would know What races drink their waters; how their chiefs Bear rule, and how men worship there, and how They build, and to what quaint device they frame. Where sea and river meet, their stately ships; What flowers are in their gardens, and what trees Bear fruit within their orchards; in what garb Their bowmen meet on holidays, and how Their maidens bind the waist and braid the hair." 8. A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the rustling sails And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys. While like the eagle free Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. for a soft and gentle wind; 1 heard a fair one cry; But give to me the snoring breeze And white waves heaving high; VERSE FORMS SS5 And white waves heaving high, my lads. The good ship tight and free — The world of waters is our home. And merry men are we. There 's tempest in yon horned moon. And lightning in yon cloud; But hark the music, mariners! The wind is piping loud; The wind is piping loud, my boys. The lightning flashes free — While the hollow oak our palace is. Our heritage the sea. 9. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary. Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tap- ping. As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door — "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more." 10. Somewhat back from the village street Stands the old-fashioned country-seat. Across its antique portico Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw; And from its station in the hall An ancient timepiece says to all, — "Forever — never! Never — forever." 11. Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. 12. Sweet and low, sweet and low. Wind of the western sea. 336 VERSE FORMS Low, low, breathe and blow. Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go. Come from the dying moon, and blow. Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. IS. See what a lovely shell. Small and pure as a pearl. Lying close to my foot. Frail, but a work divine. Made so fairily well With delicate spire and whorl. How exquisitely minute, A miracle of design! Note. If the pupils have Palgrave's Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics, they have a great fund of excellent material illustrat- ing all varieties of metrical variation. There are very few single poems that illustrate so many varieties of meter as Wordsworth's Intimations of Immortality. APPENDIX THE FORM OF A COMPOSITION The Margin. It is the custom to leave a margin of about one inch at the left side of the page. In this margin, not in the composition, all corrections should be written. There should be no margin at the right. Indention. To designate the beginning of a paragraph, it is customary to have the first line start an inch farther in than the other lines. This indention of the margin at the beginning and the incomplete line at the end mark the visible limits of a paragraph. The Heading. The heading, or title, of a composition should be written about an inch and a half from the top of the page, and well placed in the middle from left to right. There should be a blank line between the title and the beginning of the composition. Some teachers prefer to see also on the first page the name of the writer and the date of writing; in this case, the name may be at the left and the date at the right, both on one line, and above the title. \}{\JLr\L> CXxUUxL OU XAMn/OiAxL, OyTI/cL \AMU> iA/V-ixL VTU OU OAAXJit QU/XMj V^liy thjL> ^lAXJU O/VuL IXXAAAxL 338 APPENDIX The Indorsement. When the composition is finished, it should be folded but once up and down the middle of the pages. Then it should be indorsed upon the back, well up toward the top, and at the left of the crease. The indorsement may well contain: first, the name of the writer; second, the term of work and the period of the recitation; third, the title of the essay; and fourth, the date. The number of the term may be indicated by a Roman numeral, and the period of reci- tation by an Arabic numeral. n, 3 3^ 344 QUESTIONS ON SELECTED CLASSICS proceed from far to near in the landscape? Is this common? Find another example. How has Irving emphasized the littleness of the minister described on p. 56 (R. L. S., No. 52)? THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER (Riverside Literature Series, No. 119.) Is the arrangement of the details in the last two lines of the first paragraph stronger than the arrangement of the same details on p. 63? Why, or why not? In the description of the hall, pp. 67 and 68, do the details produce the eflFect upon you which they did upon Poe? Find a description in this piece which closes with an impor- tant detail. Is Usher described at all when Poe says, "I gazed upon him with a feeling half of pity, half of awe"? Do the details enumerated arouse such feelings in you? Would the feeling have been called forth if it had not been suggested by Poe? Is there, then, any advantage in this method of opening a description? What good was done by describing Usher as Poe knew him in youth? Why is the parenthetical clause on p. 72 necessary? On p. 80, should Poe write "previously to its final inter- ment"? What do you think of the length of the sentence quoted on p. 85? Does Poe use description to accent the mood of the narra- tive, or to make concrete the places and persons? Why is "the Haunted Palace" introduced into the story? ESSAY ON MILTON (Riverside Literature Series, No. 103.) What makes up the introduction? Does Macaulay use the same method in the essay on Addison? Take a volume of his essays and see how many begin in similar fashion. At what paragraph of this essay on Milton does the introduction end? Would it be as well to omit it? Give reasons for your opinion. Make an analysis of his argument of the proposition, "No poet has ever triumphed over greater difficulties than Milton." QUESTIONS ON SELECTED CLASSICS 345 Does Macaulay give a definition of poetry on page 13, or is it an exposition of the term? What figure of speech do you find in the last sentence of the paragraph on page 43? When Macaulay begins to discuss "the public conduct of Milton," what method of introduction does he adopt? What value is there in it? Do the trifles mentioned at the end of the paragraph on page 55 make an anticlimax? What construction is used throughout most of this para- graph? What is its value here? Does he close his paragraphs with a repetition of the topic more often than with a single detail emphasizing the topic ? In general, how does Macaulay mass ideas within the sen- tence — are the more important ones at the beginning or at the end? What use does he make of short sentences? Find exam- ples of balanced structure; of sentence variety. Does Macaulay frequently use epithets? antitheses? Find all transition paragraphs. Find ten full sentence transitions outside of the transition paragraphs. Where, in such paragraphs, is the topic sentence? Is his treatment of the subject concrete? What advantage is there in such treatment? OF kings' treasuries (Riverside Literature Series, No. 142.) Do you think the title good? Is Ruskin wise in disclosing his subject at once? In section 3 what purpose does the first paragraph fulfill? What method of exposition is adopted in the last paragraph? What method in section 4? For what purpose is the first paragraph of section 5 intro- duced? Is the last paragraph of this section a digression? Do you think the last sentence of section 9 upon the topic announced in the first sentence? Where does Ruskin begin to treat the second topic? Should there be two paragraphs? Granting that both Ruskin and Macaulay are emphatic, what is the difference in their manner of expression — for example, in choice of words? in sentence structure? in use of figures? in paragraph arrangement? 346 QUESTIONS ON SELECTED CLASSICS What figure do you find in section 14? in 26? Could you break up the sixth sentence of section 31 so that it would be better? What do you think of the structure of sentences 4 and 8 in section 32? Could you improve it by a change of punctuation? What is the effect of the supposed case at the end of section 33? Is it a fair deduction? Is it at the right place in the para- graph, and why? Is the example in 36 a fair one, and does it prove the case? Where would you divide the paragraph in section 37? What is a very common method with Ruskin of connecting paragraphs? If his audience had been hostile to him, would he have been fortunate in some of his assertions? Make an analysis of the whole essay. Does he seem to you to have digressed from his topic? At what point? Should it be two essays? What led Ruskin into this criticism of English character? Could you include all the main topics and by a change in proportion keep the essay on the subject? ON CONCILIATION WITH THE COLONIES (Riverside Literature Series, No. 100.) What argument does Burke use to prove that hedging in the population is not practicable? "Americans speak the English language, therefore they are English." Is the argument good? Where is the fault? How does he prove that criminal procedure against the colo- nies would fail? Do the four precedents of Ireland, Wales, Durham, and Chester prove that his plan will work in America? Is paragraph 79 in itself exposition or argument? What method is adopted in paragraph 88 to prove that the principle of concession is applicable to America? How does he prove that Americans were aggrieved by taxes? How does he establish the competence of their assemblies? How could the arguments have made "the conclusion irre- sistible"? (Paragraph 112.) What principle of argument is stated in paragraph 114? What parts of the brief are direct argument? WTiat are refutation? Is there climax in the arrangement of the whole? INDEX Abbreviations, in superscriptiona, 200, 201 ; in correcting compositions, 338, 339. Abstract ideas, in exposition, 202-204, 218, 219. Accent in verse, 320-323. Action, time of, in narrative, 98. Address of letters, 163, 164, 191. Adjective clauses, 36. Adjectives, rules for use of, 26, 27; as descriptive words, 155. Admitted matter, in argument, 281- 283. Adverbial clauses, 37. Adverbs, rules for use of, 26, 27; set off by commas, 36. Agreement of verb, 11-16. Ain't, 18. Aldricb, T. B., plots of, 66, 67, 70, 83. Allegory, 313. Allusion, 314. Amphibrach, 322, 323. Anapest, 322, 326. And, ungrammatical use of, 31; un- rhetorical use of, 255. Andersen, Hans Christian, quoted, 146. Annabel Lee, quoted, 328. Any, any one, agreement of verb with, 14. Apostrophe, incorrect use of, as pos- sessive sign, 17; figure of, 313. Appear, adjective to be used with, 26. Appositives, punctuation of, 36. Argumentation, defined, 55, 56, 271; treated, 271-308; the proposition, 275-278: the brief, 278-301; the presentation, 301-303; principles of structure, 303-306. Arrangement, in narration, 64-67, 71, 72, 87-90; in description, 125-142; in exposition, 227-237, 249, 250; in argumentation, 289-292, 297, 303. As, incorrect use of, 30; punctuation preceding, 44. Association of ideas, 223-225. Balanced sentences, 259, 260. Ballad, the, 331. Barbarisms, 11. Barnaby Rudge, quoted, 108. Beauty, by use of figurative language. 310. Beginning, of story, 75-77, 88; of de- scription, 125-132; of paragraph, 237, 238; of essay, 241-246. Benson, A. G., quoted, 243. Black Arrow, The, quoted, 101. Blackmore, R. D., quoted, 131. Bleak House, number of characters in, 98. Body, of letter, 165; of composition, 90, 91, 93, 233. Bridge of Sighs, The, quoted, 321. Brief, in exposition, 230-232, 239-241; in argumentation, 272, 278-301. Brooks, Phillips, quoted, 190. Brown, Dr. John, quoted, 127. Browning, Robert, An Incident of the French Camp, quoted, 77, 78; How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix, 321. Bryant, W. C, quoted, 117. Bunyan, John, 313. Burke, Edmund, quoted to illustrate, paragraph structure, 238; use of pronouns, 252, 253; use of parallel constructions, 258, 259; beginning of refutation, 296; use of summaries and transitions, 264, 265; procedure of brief, 291, 292. Burroughs, John, quoted, 143. But, use of, 255. But what, incorrect use of, 31. Cable, George W., quoted, 143. Can, use of, 21. Capital letters, uses of, 6, 51, 164. Carlyle, Thomas, quoted, 134. Cause and effect, controlling sequence in narration, 65; inverted order of, in narration, 82, 83, 88. Characters, number of, 98. Chatham, William, quoted, 296. Choice of words, 101-103, 155-157. Christmas Carol, quoted, 83. Clash of opinion, 283-285. Clauses, punctuation of, 36, 37; re- strictive and descriptive, 36. Clearness, by use of figurative lan- guage, 151-153, 310. 848 INDEX Climax, position of, 76, 132; depend- ent upon contrast, 96; in the thought, 97; examples of, 134-136; in argu- mentation, 303, 304; defined, 315. Coherence, in narration, 71-73; in ex- position, 248-265; in argumentation, 304, 305. Collective nouns, agreement of verb with, 12, 13. Colon. See Punctuation. Comedy, 332. Comma. See Punctuation. Comparative degree, 27. Comparisons, paragraph of, 149-151; in description, 150-152; in exposi- tion, 208-210; confusion of, 311. Complex sentences, 10. Complimentary close, 165, 191. Composition, defined, 1, 67; rules of, 2-32; two groups of, 55, 56; five great classes of, 56, 57; principles of struc- ture of, 68; form of a, 337, 338; marks for correction of, 338. 339. Compound sentences, 8-10. Conciliation with the Colonies, quoted, 238, 252, 253, 258, 259, 264, 265, 296; brief for, 291, 292. Conclusion, of composition, 91, 92, 93, 233; of brief, 299-301. Concrete facts, use of, 202-204. Conjunctions, in«orrect uses of, 30-32; coherence by use of, 253-255, 304. Connectives, coherence by use of, 252- 265. Consistency, 85, 89. Contrasts, description by, 147. Conversation, punctuation of, 40, 41; arrangement of, 49. Cooper, Frederic Taber, quoted, 144. Correction of composition, marks for, 338, 339. Correspondence. See Letters. Covld, correct use of, 21. Courtship of Miles Standish, The, meter of, 324, 325. Curtis, George William, quoted, 147. 251, 256. Dactyl, defined, 322; interchangeable with trochee, 326, 327. Dash. See Punctuation. David Copper field, quoted, 126. Davis, Richard Harding, quoted, 58, 133; plot in Gallegher by, 93. Death of the Flowers, The, quoted, 325. Definition of terms, 244, 245, 280. Defoe, Daniel, plot of Robinson Crusoe by, 67. Description, defined, 65, 66, 62, 105; treated, 105-161; and painting, 105- 107, 117, 118; enumerative and sug- gestive, 108-115; accurate observa- tion and, 112; selection and point of view in, 115-125; arrangement in, 125-142; paragraphs in, 142-151; use of comparisons in, 151; choice of words in, 155-157. Details, in narration, 81-84; in descrip- tion, 117-140; paragraph of, 145, 146; in exposition, 205-207. Dickens, Charles, intricate plot by, 67; inclusion of detail by, 83; as story teller in third person, 85; number of characters introduced by, 98; quoted, 108, 117, 126, 127, 132, 133, 143, 155, 326. Digressions, 82, 303. Dimeter, 323. Direct proof, 289-294. Discourse, forms of, 55-57. Don't, incorrect use of, 18. Doyle, Conan, quoted, 110, 129, 134, 140. Dramatic poetry, 332. Dramatists, 89. Each, agreement of verb with, 14. Either, agreement of verb with, 14; with or, 30. Elegy, the, 332. Eliot, George, plots of, 66, 67; time covered in Silas Mamer by, 99; quoted, 144, 215. Emphasis in description, 136, 137. End, of story, 75-77; of sentence or paragraph, 76, 237, 238; of descrip- tion, 132-136; of essay, 246, 247. English Composition. See Composition. Enumerative and suggestive descrip- tion, 108-115, 146. Epic, the, 331. Epithet, 312. Esquire, use of, 164. Essay, outline of an, 227-234; para- graphs in, 234-237; mass in, 241- 248; coherence in, 263-265. Evangeline, scansion of, 327. Events, order of, in narration, 64-66, 87-95. Everett, Edward, quoted, 135; use of descriptive words by, 155. Every one, agreement of verb with, 14. Ewing, Mrs. J. H., quoted, 57, 58; plot of Jackanapes by, 83; as story- teller in the third person, 85. Exclamation mark. See Punctuation. Explanation, methods of, 204-217. Exposition, defined, 55. 56, 202, 204; INDEX 349 treated, 202-270; difficulties of, 203, 204; methods of explaining, 204-217; subject, theme, and title in, 217- 222; selection of material in, 222- 227; arrangement of material in, 227-237; paragraphs in, 234-237; mass in, 231, 237-248; coherence in, 248-265. Extra syllables in verse, 328, 329. Facts, concrete, use of, 202-204. Faerie Queene, The, an allegory, 313; quoted, 328. Fall of the House of Usher, The, quoted, 102, 128; proportion in, 136. Feel, adjective to be used with, 26. Feet in verse, kinds of, 321-323; de- fined, 322; combinations of, 323; substitutions of, 326-328. Figurative language, 153, 309-311. See also Imagery. Figures of speech, 151-153, 309-319? Folding of letters, 198, 199. For, use of, in briefs, 292. Force, by use of figurative language, 151-153, 310. Form of a composition, 337, 338. Forms of discourse. See Discourse. Frederic, Harold, quoted, 69. Gallegher, simple plot of, 99. General terms, 202-204, 218, 219. Giberne, Agnes, quoted, 211. Oold Bug, The, length of sentences in, 97. Goldsmith, Oliver, quoted, 58, 59. Qoliath, plot of, 67. Grammatical errors, rules for avoiding, 11-32. Great Stone Face, The, 99. Hale, E. E., plot of The Man Without a Country by, 67. Hardy, Thomas, quoted, 140. Hare, Augustus, quoted, 109. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 106, 107, 116, 119, 120, 122, 137; point of view carefully indicated by, 142. Heading, of letters, 162, 163, 191; of composition, 338. Henry, Patrick, quoted, 296. Heptameter, 324. Hexameter, 324. Hiawatha, quoted, 320, 321, 326, 327; scansion of, 324, 325. Holmes, O. W., quoted, 152. How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix, quoted, 321. Howells, W. D., quoted, 59. Hubbard, Elbert, quoted, 217. Hughes, Thomas, quoted, 145. Hugo, Victor, quoted, 131, 145. Hyde, William DeWitt, quoted, 243. Hyperbole, 314. Iambus, defined, 322; frequency of, 322, 327; interchangeable with ana- pest, 326; replaced by trochee, 327. Idylls of the King, 324. Imagery, familiar, 150, 151. Incident, the main, 75-81. Incident of the French Camp, An, quoted, 77, 78. Indention of composition, 337. Interrogation, figure of, 315; mark of, see Punctuation. Intimations of Immortality, 336. Introduction in narration, 90, 91, 93; in exposition, 240; in argumenta- tion, 279-289. Inverted order in narration, 66. Irony, 315. Irrelevant matter, 281-283. Irving, Washington, order of events in The Spectre Bridegroom by, 65, 66, 88; beginning of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by, 77; as a teller of stories in the tbird person, 85; movement in stories of, 96; quoted, 110, 115, 127, 129, 138, 205, 212; comparisons as used by, 149, 152. Ivy Green, The, quoted, 326. Jackanapes, plot of, 83, 85. Jewett, S. O., quoted, 138. . Johnston, Mary, quoted, 122, 123. Jordan, David Starr, quoted, 242. Julius CoBsar, plot of, 67. Kidnapped, quoted, 63, 85. Kind, errors connected with use of, 13, 14. King Lear, quoted, 122, 157. Lady of the Lake, The, quoted, 320. Lamb, Charles, quoted, 244. Language, in narration, 63, 64; in de- scription, 105-107, 117, 118; force and vividness in, 101-103 ; figurative, 153. Lee, Jennette, quoted, 147. Le Gallienne, Richard, quoted, 309. • Legend of Sleepy Hollow, The, 69, 77, 85, 96, 150, 152. Lemaltre, Jules, quoted, 124. Length, of sentences, 96, 97; of para- graphs, 100, 169, 170; of description, ' 108-110, 123, 124. 350 INDEX Lea MisSrables, quoted, 131. Letters, parts of, 162; heading in, 162, 163, 191; address in, 163, 164, 191; punctuation of, 163, 164, 201; salu- tation in, 164, 191; body of, 165; com- plimentary close in, 165, 191; signa- ture in, 166; forms of, 166, 172, 173, 175-177, 180, 184-186, 194-196; business, 167-170; of application, 170-174; of recommendation, 174- 176; of introduction, 176-179; order- ing goods, 179-181; of complaint, 181-183; requesting payment, 183- 187; of friendship, 187-193; society, 193-196; folding of, 198, 199; super- scription of, 199-201. See also Notes. Lewes, George Henry, quoted, 213. Like, incorrect use of, 30. Likeness, figures based upon, 311-313. Lincoln, Abraham, quoted, 60, 61, 287. Literal language, 309. Lochinvar, quoted, 321. Locksley Hall, 325. London Times, quoted, 115, 116. Longfellow, H. W., proportion of verbs in The Notary of Perigueux by, 97; as a user of figurative language, 152, 153, 311; Hiawatha quoted, 320, 321, 326, 327; quoted, 321; substitution of feet in Evangeline, 3227. Look, adjective to be used with, 26. Lorna Doone, quoted, 131. Lowell. J. R., quoted, 107, 108, 151, 203; as a user of figurative language, 152. Lyric poetry, 331, 332. Macaulay, T. B., quoted, 60, 205, 206, 207, 208, 214, 215, 217, 244, 246, 247; on abstractions, 218, 219; bal- anced sentences used by, 260. Main incident, the, 75-81. Main issues, the. 285, 286. Man Without a Country, The, plot of, 67. Margin of composition, 337. Marjorie Daw, plot of, 67. Marks for correction of compositions, 338, 339. Marmion, situation at opening of, 77; order of events in, 88; scansion of, 324; quoted, 325. Marvel, Ike, quoted, 146, Mass, 68, 71; in sentences, 71, 72; in narration, 71, 76; in description, 132, 136; in exposition, 231, 237-248; in argumentation, 303, 304. Material, selection of, in description, 115-125; arrangement of, in descrip- tion, 125-142; selection of, in exposi- tion, 222-227; arrangement of, in exposition, 227-237. Maupassant, Guy, length of sentences by, 97; quoted, 113, May, correct use of, 21, Merchant of Venice, The, meter in, 325. Metaphor, 153, 312, Meter, determining the, 330, See aho Verse forms. Metonymy, 314. Metrical romance, the, 331. Might, correct use of, 21. Mill on the Floss, The, plot of, 67. Mitford, M. R., quoted, 187-189. Monometer, 323. Mood, in description, 116. 117, 121- 124. Movement in stories, 95-98. My Heart 'a in the Highlands, quoted, 326. Narration, defined, 55. 56. 62; lan- guage suited to, 63, 64, 101-103; sequence of events in, 64-66; plot in, 66. 67; movement in, 95; paragraphs in, 100, 143. 145; use of words in, 101-103. Narrative poetry. 330. 331. Neither, verb in connection with, 14; with nor, 30. Newcomer, A. G.. quoted. 213. Newman, Cardinal, quoted. Ill, 122, 131, 137, 259. Nicholas Nickleby, quoted, 143. Nor, with neither 30. Notary of Perigueux, The, proportion of verbs in, 97. Notes, of invitation, acceptance, and regret, 193-196. Noun clauses, 37. Nouns, as descriptive words, 155. Nuttall, G. Clarke, quoted, 247. Observation, value of, 112, 113. Obverse, the, paragraph of, 147-149; use of, in exposition. 207. 208. Octameter, 324. Ode, the, 332. Of, incorrect uses of, 21, 29. Old Manse, The, quoted, 116. 119, 120. 122; paragraphs in, 142. Omission of syllables in verse, 329, 330. One, agreement of verb with, 14. Only, correct use of. 27. Or, with either, 30. Order, of events in narration, 64-66, 87-95; of details in description. 137- 140; of sentences, 249. 260. See Arrangement. INDEX 351 Orders for goods, letters containing, 179-181. Ought, incorrect use of, 21. Our New Neighbors at Pon,kapog, climax in, 66, 83. Outline, use of an, 89, 100; of an essay, 227-234. Painting and language, 105-107, 117, 118. Palmer, G. H., quoted, 220, 221. Paradise Lost, meter of, 324. Paragraph, the, of conversation, 49; mass in, 71, 72, 237, 238; in narra- tion, 100, 143, 145; in description, 142-151; a single topic, 142-145; of details, 145, 146; of the obverse, 147-149; of comparisons, 149-151; in letters, 169, 170; in exposition, 234-237; opening essay, 242; closing essay, 246; coherence in, 249-263; of transition, 263. Parallel construction, 255-260, 304. Pentameter, 324. Period. See Punctuation. Personification, 313. Persuasion, defined, 55, 56; in argu- mentation, 271, 305. Phrases, punctuation of, 36; position of, 72. Pictures, unity in, 69; language and, 105-107; selection of details for, 117, 118. Pilgrim's Progress, an allegory, 313. Pitt, William, quoted, 60. Plan, value of a, 228-230. Plot, 66, 67, 99. Poe, E. A., length of sentences in The Qold Bug by, 97; his choice of words, 102; quoted, 128, 133; his Annabel Lee quoted, 328. Poetry, origin of, 325; kinds of, 330- 332. See Verse forms. Point of view, in description, 115; the physical, 115, 116; the mental, 116, 117. Position, in description, 125-138. Predicate, defined, 2; kinds of, 2, 3; verb in, 4. Prepositions, use of, 28-30. Presentation of argument, 301-303. Principles of structure. 68-75, 303- 306. Proctor, Richard A., quoted, 292, 293. Pronouns, relative, agreement of verb with, 14; incorrect forms of, 16, 17; coherence obtained by use of, 252, 304. Proof, direct, 289-294. Proportion, in description, 136-140; in argumentation, 304. Proposition, method of explaining a, 204-217 ; in argumentation, 275- 278. Punctuation, marks of final, 6, 33, 34; need of, 33; by comma, 34-43; by semicolon, 43-47; by colon, 47, 48; of quotations, 48, 49; by dash, 50; in letters, 163, 164; of superscription, 201. Purpose of an author, 57; in descrip- tion, 121-124. Question mark. See Punctuation. Quotation marks. See Punctuation. Quotations, punctuation of, 40, 41; of conversation, 49. Raven, The, meter of, 325. Recollect, incorrect use of with, 29. Refutation, 294-299. Remember, incorrect use of of with, 29. Repetition, use of, in exposition, 210- 212; coherence obtained by, 250- 252, 304. Repplier, Agnes, quoted, 59, 60, 130, 244. Rhythm. See Verse forms. Richards, E. L., quoted, 286. "^ Rip Van Winkle, quoted, 127. Robinson Crusoe, plot of, 67. Ruskin, John, quoted, 214, 215, 310. Salutation in letters, 164, 191. Scale of treatment, 225-227. Scansion, 325, 330. Scott, Walter, beginning of Marmion by, 77; order of events in Marmion by, 88; introductory chapters of, 88, 89; quoted, 140, 320, 325. Seashore, The, quoted, 235. Seem, adjective to be used with, 26. Selection of material, in description, 115-125; in exposition, 222-227. Semicolon. See Punctuation. Sentence, the, defined, 2, 6; verb in, 4-7; capital letter beginning, 6; final punctuation of, 6; unity of, 6-10; compound, 8-10; complex, 10; order of, in paragraph, 72; length of, as affecting movement, 96, 97; topic, 143 ; coherence in, 249, 250; balanced, 259, 260; of transition, 263; periodic, loose, see Mass in sentence. Sentence structure, figures based upon, 314, 315. Sequence of events. See Order of Events. 352 INDEX Shakespeare, William, plot of Julius CcBsar by, 67; quoted, 122, 157. Shall and unll, correct uses of, 18-20. Should and would, correct uses of , 18-20. Signature of letters, 166. Silas Mamer, plot of, 66; time covered by, 99. Simile, 153, 312. Sincerity in Argument, 305, 306. Smell, adjective to be used with, 26. Smiles, Samuel, quoted, 242. Solecisms. 11. Song, the, 331. Sonnet, the, 332. Sort, errors connected with use of, 13, 14. Sound, adjective to be used with, 26. Spectre Bridegroom, The, main incident of, 75; order of events in, 65, 66, 88. Spencer, Herbert, quoted, 297, 298, 300. Spenser, Edmund, his Faerie Queene, an allegory, 313; quoted, 328. Spondee, 323. Stanza, 323. Stelzle, Charles, quoted, 280. Stevenson, R. L., his Kidnapped quoted, 63; plot of Treasure Island by, 67; as a teller of stories in the first person, 85; his use of words, 101, 155, 156; on length of descrip- tions, 123; quoted, 128. Story, the, 62; language suited to, 63, 64; sequence of events in, 64-66; plot of, 66, 67; the main incident in, 75-81; what shall go into, 81-84; the unexpected in the, 82, 83, 89; who ehall tell, 84-87; in what order shall, be told, 87-95; movement in, 95-98; nxmaber of characters in, 98; time of action of, 98; plot of, 99; paragraphs of, 100. Subject, defined, 2; vs. theme and title, 217-219. Suggestive and enumerative descrip- tion, 108-115. Siimmaries, use of, 263-265, 299, 304, 305. Superlatives, use of, 156. Superscription of letters, 199-201. Syllables, in verse, extra, 328, 329; omission of; 329, 330. See Verse forms. Synecdoche, 313 n. Tale, the, 331. Tale of Two Cities, A, plot of, 67; told in the third person, 85; quoted, 132, 165. Taste, adjective to be used with, 26. Tennyson, Alfred, quoted, 107, 330. Terms, definition of, 244, 245, 280. See Words. Tetrameter, 324. Thackeray, W. M., the plot of Vanity Fair by, 66; his use of weak super- lative, 157; quoted, 311. Them, for those, 27. Theme, 219, 220, 242, 246. Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower, quoted, 326. Time of action, 98. Title, selection of, 220, 221; in address, 164; writing of, 338. Topic, controlling paragraphing, 143. Topic cards, 228. Topic sentence, 143-145, 205, 238. Tragedy, 332. Transitions, 263-265, 304, 305. Treasure Island, plot of, 67. Trimeter, 324. Trochee, defined, 322; dactyl inter- changeable with, 326, 327; in place of iambus, 327. Try and, 31. Unity, of sentences, 6-10; in narration, 68-70; in description, 115-123; in exposition, 222-225, 234-236; in argumentation, 303. Van Dyke, Henry, quoted, 139, 148, 214, 250, 257. Vanity Fair, plot of, 66. Verb, in predicate, 2-4; agreement of, 11-16; forms, 17-26; in narra- tion, 97, 101; as descriptive word, 156. Verboeckhoven, painter, 117. Verse, kinds of, 323-325; defined, 323; variations in, 325-330. Verse forms, 320-336. Vision of Sir Launfal, The, 107, 151. Waived matter, 281-283. Warner, C. D., quoted, 140. Webster, Daniel, quoted, 61, 299. Will and shall, correct uses of, 18-20. Winchester, Caleb T., quoted, 245. Without, incorrect use of, 30. Words, choice of, in narration, 101- 103; descriptive, 155; choice of, in description, 155-157; need for defin- ing, 244, 245, 280. Wordsworth, William, Intimations of Immortality by, 336. Would and should, correct uses of, 18- 20. TH>S BOOK ON ^HE DATE OU ^^^ ^^ W,.. -NCREASE TO SO «N^^^ ^^^^^„ „^V DAY AND TO *i.»-'« OVERDUE. JAN 26 1946 '30 ^23 ^%' DEC 3 1934 APK 22 1335 JUL 18 1935 Zuiad^iHE iB APR 11 1937' MAY 29 1937 JAN 26 193i LD 2 1-50'"'^' '^"^ ^Il y^-' IQ 02306 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY