CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBI ENGLISH COLLECTION THK GIFT OF JAMES MORGAN HART PROFESSOR OF ENGIJSH CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924083535025 A MANUAL OF Composition and Rhetoric FOR USE IN SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES JOHN S. HART, LL.D. REVISED EDITION By JAMES MORGAN HART Professor of English Philolooy and Rhetoric IN Cornell University, N. Y. PHILADELPHIA Eldredge & Brother No. 17 North Seventh Street 1897 £.V. h-^bZ\^^ ••O^*' Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1897, by ELDEEDGE & BROTHER, in the Office of the Librarian of Ck)ngress, at Washington. ..o^«- i -* WESTCOTT A THOMSON, ELEOTBOTYPERS, PHILADA. -« PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION. oXXo r I '^HIS is, on the face of it, a text-book. It has been written -*- for learners, not for the learned. Its object is, not to ex- tend the boundaries of the science by excursions into debatable ground, but to present its admitted .truths in a form easily apprehended. By this statement, however, I do not wish to convey the idea that the treatise is unscientific in its character or its methods. I mean merely that I have studiously avoided cumbering my book with the many abstruse and still unsolved questions which environ the subject. Those questions are not without interest or value, and few persons have a keener relish for their discussion than the writer, whose life-long studies have been in that precise line of inquiry. But original investigation is felt to be out of place in a text-book for instruction in the elements. At the same time, it is believed, the attentive reader, who is familiar with the recent literature of the science, will find the subject brought up to the latest clearly ascertained results, while in some directiohs a decided advance has been made. The text has been, purposely, and most carefully, broken up into portions convenient for the uses of the class-room. These typographical arrangements necessarily give to the pages a somewhat fragmentary appearance. But any one who will take the trouble to look will see at a glance that the matter throughout is closely connected and continuous, — that it forms a compacted and orderly system. IV PREFACE. Rhetoric, like grammar, arithmetic, and many kindred sub- jects of study, is an art as well as a science, and no text-book for the class-room is of much value which is not well furnished with examples for practice. In the preparation of the present work, no labor has been spared in this respect. In the appa- ratus required by the teacher for training students in the prac- tical applications of the principles of Rhetoric, the book, it is believed, may safely challenge comparison with any work on the subject that is before the public. J. 8. H. State Normal School, ) Trenton, N. J., July 1870. J PREFACE TO THE REVISED EDITION. In the present edition Part I. of the original work, Style, has been left in Its first shaping. The slight changes here and there are nearly all in the direction of greater brevity. Only the chapters on Metre and on Poetry are re- written. Part II., Invention, on the other hand, is wholly the work of the present editor. The variety of treatment and fulness of illustration in the chapters on Paragraphing and on Composition-writing should com- mend the hook to every progressive teacher. Composition-writing, in particular, has been reduced to its elements. CoKNELL University, 1 17.1 JAMES MORGAN HART. July, 1897. Contents. oXKo INTRODUCTION. General Terms Defined General Divisions . . . PAGE . . 1 . . 2 PART I. STYLE. Definition of Style Division of tlie Subject . CHAPTER I. Punctuation and Capitals. Definition of tlie Subject . . . 5 Division of the Subject . . . . 6 SECTION I.— The Comma. Rule 1. Parenthetical Expressions . . .... 8 Rule 2. Intermediate Expressions . 10 Rule 3. Clauses of Condition and Dependence 11 Rule 4. Relative Clauses . . .12 Rule 5. Co-ordinate Clauses . 14 Rule 6. Expressions Forming a Series . . .14 Rule 7. Words Forming a Series .15 vi CONTENTS. PAGE Rule 8. Words or Phrases in Pairs 16 Rule 9. Nouns in Apposition 17 Kule 10. The Vocative Case 18 Rule 11. The Case Absolute 18 Rule 12. Inverted Clauses .... 19 Rule 13. Ellipsis of the Verb 19 Kule 14. Short Quotations . ... 19 SECTION II.— The Semicolon. Rule 1. Clauses Having a Common Dependence . . 20 Rule 2. Sentences Connected in Meaning, but Independent 21 Rule 3. The Clause Additional . . . ... 22 Rule 4. A General Term in Apposition to the Particulars under it 22 SECTION III.— The Colon. Rule 1. Greater Divisions of Complex Sentences . ... . . . . 23 Rule 2. Before a Quotation . . 23 Rule 3. Yes and No . . 23 Rule 4. Title-pages 24 SECTION IV.— The Period. Rule 1. Complete Sentences 25 Rule 2. After Titles, etc. . 25 Rule 3. After Abbreviations ... 26 SECTION v.— The Interrogation Point. Rule. The Direct Question . 28 SECTION VI.— The Exclamation Point. Rule 1. After Strong Emotion .... ... 29 Rule 2. Double Exclamations . . . . . ... 30 SECTION VII.— The Dash. Rule 1. Construction Changed ... . ... 31 Rule 2. Emphatic Generalization 31 Rule 3. Elocutionary Pause 31 Rule 4. Expressions Dependent upon Concluding Clause . . 32 Rule 5. Rhetorical Repetition . ..... 32 Rule 6. Reflex Apposition . . .32 Rule 7. The Dash Parenthetical .... 32 Rule 8. Question and Answer . 33 Rule 9. Omissions . . . . . ... .... 33 SECTION VIII.— The Parenthesis. Rule ai CONTENTS. vii SECTION IX.— Brackets. PAGE Rule .... . . . 36 SECTION X.— Quotation Marks. Rule 1 Words Taken from Another Person . 37 Rule 2. Quotation Within a Quotation . 38 Rule 3. Consecutive Paragraphs 38 Rule 4. Interrupted Quotation . . 39 SECTION XI.— Apostrophe, Hyphen, etc. Apostrophe, Hyphen, Caret, Index, etc. . . 40 SECTION XII.— Capitals. Rule 1. First Word in Writing .... . . 41 Rule 2. First Word after Period .... . . 41 Rules 3-10. Numbered Clauses, Quotations, Poetry, etc 41 Rule 11. Names of God . . . 42 Rules 12, 13. Proper Names, etc ... 43 Rules 14-18. Titles, Technical Words, Personification 44 CHAPTER II. Diction. Definition— How to Obtain Command of Words . 48 Division of the Subject . • *8 SECTION I.— Purity. 1. Foreign Words *^ 2. Obsolete Words and New Words 50 Standard of Usage ^^ SECTION II.— Propriety. Difference between Propriety of Diction and Purity 54 Means of Attaining Propriety 55 Examples of Words Used Improperly . 55 SECTION III.— Precision. Meaning of Precision Examples of Words Not Used Precisely . The Study of Synonyms . . • Books on the Subject of Synonyms .... Examples of Synonyms 58 58 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. Sentences. PAGE Division of tlie Subject ** PART I.— Kinds of Sentences. Section 1. Periodic Sentences ^ Section 2. Loose Sentences ... ^ Use and Danger of . . . .... 65 Section 3. Balanced Sentences . . • *'' Use of ^ Section 4. Sliort and Long Sentences 69 Rule in Regard to tlie Use of tlie Various Kinds of Sentences . 69 PART II —Rules for the Construction of Sentences. RULE I.— Clearness. Section 1. Position of Adverbs . . Section 2. Position of Adverbial Clauses Section 3. Squinting Construction . Section 4. Use of the Pronouns Summary of Rule I 75 77 RULE II.— Emphasis. Section 1. The Principal Subject 81 Disposal of Subsidiary Matter 82 Section 2. The Principal Predicate 83 Principal Words Not to be Entangled 84 RULE III.— Unity. General Illustration of Unity . . 87 Section 1. Change of Subject to be Avoided 88 Section 2. Crowding Together Things Unconnected 89 Section 3. Management of Relative Clauses . . 90 Section 4. Parentheses . . . 91 Section 5. Supplementary Clauses 91 RULE IV.— Strength. Section 1. Redundant Words 94 Section 2. Use of .Very, etc. . . . 95 Section 3. Words of Connection and Transition 96 Section 4. Bringing to a Conclusion 98 Section 5. Contrast . . 100 Section 6. Climax, Anti-climax . . 100 RULE v.— Harmony. Section 1. Prevalence of Pleasant Sounds . . .... .103 Section 2. Accents at Convenient Intervals 105 Section 3. Cadence at the Close . . . ; 106 Section 4. Adapting the Sound to the Sense 107 CONTENTS. ix CHAPTER IV. Figures. PAGE Relation of the Subject to what Precedes 115 Definition of Figures . 115 Origin and Use of Figures 116 SECTION I.— Simile. Why Similes Please 117 Rule 1. The Resemblance Should Not be too Near and Obvious 119 Rule 2. The Resemblance Should Not be too Remote 120 Rule 3. Should Not be Drawn from Objects with which Ordinary Readers are Unacquainted . . 120 Rule 4. Should Not be Drawn from what is Mean and Low . 121 Rule 5. Should Not be Stilted . . 121 Rule 6. Should Not be Used in Cases of Strong Passion . . 121 SECTION II.— Metaphor. Difference between Metaphor and Simile .... . . 122 Rule 1. Metaphorical and Literal Should Not be Mixed . 123 Rule 2. One Metaphor Should Not be Mixed with Another .... 124 Rule 3. Metaphors Should Not be Multiplied to Excess . . . .124 Rule 4. Metaphors Should Not be Carried too Far . . 125 SECTION III— Allegory. Relations of Allegory to Metaphor and Simile . ... 126 Allegory, Parable, and Fable . 126 SECTION IV.— Antithesis. Definition of the Subject 127 Rule in Regard to Antithesis 127 SECTION v.— Epigram. Relation of Epigram to Antithesis 129 SECTION VI.— Metonymy. Definition and Illustrations of the Subject . . . . . . 129 SECTION VII.— Synecdoche. Explanation of the Subject . ... . ... 130 SECTION VIII.— Interrogation. Definition .... ... ■ ■ 131 Uses and Peculiarities ... ... . . . 131 SECTION IX.— Exclamation. Explanation of the Figure 131 X CONTENTS. SECTION X.— Apostrophe. PAGE Definition and Examples . . . 132 SECTION XI.— Personification. Special Facilities in English . . 133 SECTION XII.— Hyperbole. Its Nature and Use 135 SECTION XIII.— Irony. Its Nature and Use 136 Some Additional Figures . . . .... 136 CHAPTER V. Special Properties of Style. Division of the Subject . . ... 149 SECTION I.— Sublimity. I. What Constitutes Sublimity. 1. Vastness 149 2. Power . 150 3. Awfulness 150 4. Vagueness 151 5. Volume of Sound 162 6. Moral Greatness . .... ... 152 II. The Sublime in Writing. 1. Sublimity of Subject . . . . 153 2. Vivid Conception of the Strong Points 153 3. Suppression of Belittling Details . . , 154 4. Simplicity and Conciseness of Expression 154 SECTION II.— Beauty. I. Beauty in General. 1. Color as an Element of Beauty 156 2. Figure . . . .167 3. Motion . 153 4. Complex Beauty 158 5. Beauty of Countenance . . . . 159 6. Moral Beauty . . I69 II. The Beautiful in Writing. 1. Beauty of Subject . ... 159 2. Beauty of Expression . . . , _ . IgQ 3. Conciseness less Necessary 150 SECTION III.— Wit. Ingredients of Wit . Definition of Wit . Examples Pun— a Species of Wit 161 162 162 163 CONTENTS. xi PAGE Examples of Pun . . 163 Advantages and Disadvantages of Wit ... 164 SECTION IV.— Humor. Ingredients of Humor .... .... ... .164 Humor Something Characteristic 166 Humor Kind-hearted 165 Difference between Humor and Wit 166 CHAPTER VI. Metre. Books of Reference on the Subject SECTION I.— General Terms Verse and Foot Explained . . ... .... Principle of Measurement . . ... Compensation . ..... Syllabic Pause . . 167 167 169 169 170 SECTION II.— The Single Line. Length ... ... 171 Very Short Lines . . . 171 Very Long Lines . 172 Caesura .... . 172 SECTION III.— The Stanza. Definition ... . . . . 172 Couplet, Triplet, Quatrain 173 Hymns . ... ... 174 Longer Stanzas, Ottava Sima, Spenserian Stanza 175 Stanzas without Rhyme . . 176 The Sonnet ... ... 176 SECTION IV.— Rhyme. Perfect Rhyme, Single, Double, Trisyllabic, Sectional 176 Imperfect Rhyme . ... 178 Assonance . . . • ... . 181 Alliteration . . . .... . 181 SECTION v.— Continuous Verse. Octosyllabic 182 Heroic Verse . . • . . ■ ■ ■ • 183 Alexandrine . . . ■ 184 Hexameter . • • . ... 184 Blank Verse, in General ... . . ... 185 Choriambus, Hovering Accent, Caesura . 186 Extra Syllables, Omitted Syllables 188 Light and Weak Endings, Elizabethan Pronunciation . . 189 Krea Bima .... . ■ . . • ■ • ■ 191 xii CONTENTS. SECTION VI.— Irregular Rhythms. PAGE Four Beats, Alliteration, Ballad Measures . .... 192 CHAPTER VII. Poetry. General Nature ... .194 SECTION I.— Lyric Poetry. Personal in its Nature, Musical in Quality . . .195 Conviviality, Love, and Friendship . . .196 Patriotism, Religion . .... .197 Sonnet, Ode, Elegy, Threnody . . .... .197 SECTION II.— Narrative Poetry. Folk Epic, Art Epic, Allegorical Epic 198 Romances of Chivalry, Ecclesiastical Romances . ... . . 200 Historical Romances, Private Life, Idylls, Ballads . . . . 201 SECTION III.— Dramatic Poetry. Definition ... 202 Historical Sketch, Church Plays, Moralities, etc. 203 Classical Drama, Continental Drama 206 Spirit of Elizabethan Age . . . . 206 Tragedy, Comedy . . . 207 Unity of Action . . . 208 SECTION IV.— Didactic Poetry, Satire. Nature of Didactic Poetry, Classes of . . . 208 Satire . 210 CHAPTER VIII. Prose Composition. Definition and Varieties . . ... 212 SECTION I.— Letters. An Important Species of Composition . . ... 212 What is Required in a Letter . . . . 213 The Forms to be Observed in Letter-writing .... .214 I. The Heading. 1. The Place of Writing ... 214 2. The Time of Writing, or Date . . . 215 II. The Address. The Beginning . . .... .215 The Close . 216 Business Letters , , ^ 216 CONTENTS. XlU in. The Subscription. page Signing Initials .... . . . 217 Married Women and Widows 217 Arrangement of the Subscription . . 217 IV. The Superscription. Why Important ... 218 1. The Name . . . 218 2. The Title '. 218 3. The Residence 220 SECTION II.— News. literary Character of News .... .221 Things to be Aimed at in News-writing . . .... .221 1. Accuracy . . . 221 2. Condensation 222 3. Perspicuity 222 SECTION III.— Editorials. Peculiar Nature 223 Difference between Editorials and News . 224 SECTION IV.— Reviews. Nature .... .... . . ... 224 Kinds . • - • ■ • ... 225 SECTION v.— Essays. Nature Memoirs . Biography . . . Autobiography . Definition . Its Prevalence SECTION IX.— Fiction. 225 Kinds • ■ 225 SECTION VI.— Treatises. How Different from Essays . . . 227 Text-books . ... ... 228 SECTION VII.— Travels. Accuracy Important . .... . . 228 Other Qualities 229 SECTION VIII.— History. General Nature . ..... .229 Difficulties . . ■ 229 Historical Style . . ... ... 280 Character-delineation ... . . 230 230 231 231 231 231 xiv CONTENTS. PAGE Historical NoTels 232 Delineation of Character 232 Evil Effects of Noyel-reading 232 SECTION X.— Discourses. Orations 233 Addresses . . . . 234 Sermons . . 234 Lectures . . 234 Speeches .... 234 General Principles of Constructing Discourses 235 1. Unity 235 2. Adaptation to the Audience . . 235 3. Symmetry of Parts 235 PART II. INVENTION. General Nature of Invention Explained 238 CHAPTER IX. Paragraphing. The Paragraph Defined 240 General Principles. Unity 240 Sequence, or Continuity 243 Principal Places in Paragraph 245 Body of Paragraph 246 Practical Suggestions. Key- or Topic-sentence 249 Repeated Structure . . 252 Eo*>° 253 255 Connectives Abuse of aTid ; but 258 Variety of Structure ' . ' ' ' 260 Historical Present 261 Connected Paragraphs. Co-ordination „„ Link Paragraph " ' ' Single-sentence Paragraph Echo from Paragraph to Paragraph . . ' 968 Chapter-echo Paragraphs of Introduction and Conclusion . oon ■ ... ^by CONTENTS. XV The Independent Paragraph. page Specimens of 273 Peculiar Conciseness 275 In School Work 275 CHAPTER X. Composition--writing. Composition Defined 277 1. Preparing the Subject. Limiting the Subject 278 Investigating Subject . . 279 Freedom of Treatment . 279 Unity and Coherence . . 280 " Surrounding with Questions " ; Examples 280 2. Formulating the Subject. Collecting Items . . ... 284 Arranging Items 284 Working Plan or Outline 284 3. Writing the Composition. First Draught 288 Revision . 288 Introduction and Conclusion . 290 link Paragraphs 292 The Title . . 292 HIGH SCHOOL COURSE IN READING AND COMPOSITION. Narration and Description. Sip Van Winkle 295 Sleepy BoUow 295 The Angler ... 296 Silas Mamer 297 Merchant of Venice, Juliue Caesar, Macbeth 299 The Princess .... 299 Macaiday's Johnson . . . 300 Studies in Paragraphing. Macavlay's Chatham 300 Exposition and Argument. Burkes Conciliation . . 303 Webster's Bunker Hill . 305 CHAPTER XI. Oratory and Debate. Oratory. Oration Defined . . ... 307 Varieties ... • • ■ . . 308 Pulpit Oratory in Particular ... 306 XVI CONTENTS. OrsLtoiy— Continued. page General Principles of an Oration ^"^ Personality of Orator 31" Earnestness, Reserve Force ^1" Persuasion, Nature of 310 Mixed Questions 311 Law Cases . 312 Introduction and Conclusion 312 Demonstrative Oratory in Particular 314 Debate. Deiinition of .... 315 Proposition ; Burden of Proof . . . . . .... ... 315 Terms to be Exactly Defined .... 317 Judging a Debate 318 CHAPTER XII. Historical Sketch of the English Language. Books of Reference on the Subject 319 1. Before Norman Conquest. Britains and Romans 319 Tbe English . . . . 320 Anglo-Saxon Dialects ... 321 Written Remains 322 Grammatical Features 323 Borrowings from Latin and Danish 324 No Literary Standard .... 325 2. From Conquest to Chaucer. Gradual Disintegration .325 Multiplicity of Dialects 326 3. Thirteenth, Fourteenth Centuries. London Standard ; French Borrowings . . .... 327 Chaucer's Grammar and Pronunciation . . .328 Fifteenth Century . . . . 328 i. Sixteenth Century to Present Day. Sixteenth Century . . . .329 Seventeenth Century 330 Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries . . . 330 5. American English. Its Origin 831 Pronunciation . . . .331 Diction . . ... .331 What to be Avoided . ... 332 6. General Remarks . 333 Introduction. 1. Rhetoric is the art which treats of discourse. 2. By Discourse is meant any expression of thought by means of language. 3. Discourse may be either oral or written. Note 1. The Greek phrase ' the rhetoric art ' meant the art of the ' rhetor,' or pubhc speaker. Inasmuch as public speaking amiong the Greeks, and later among the Romans, was usually argumentative, the adjective 'rhetoric,' used as a noun, desig- nated the art of argumentative discourse, persuasion. It has this meaning in Aristotle's well-known treatise, and in Whately's Elements of Rhetoric, based directly on Aristotle. But com- monly in modern times the term Rhetoric has been so ex- tended in meaning as to include everything connected with composition in all its forms, with literary theory, criticism, and poetry. As a practical study it implies the cultivation of sound judgment in reading and good taste in writing. It is employed in this practical sense in the present treatise. Note 2. In treating of discourse, we divide the subject into two parts : — that which considers the arrangement of the mat- ter, or thought to be expressed ; and that which considers the manner and details of expression. The former of these is treated under the head of Invention, the latter under the head of Style. Note 3. It would be more in accordance with theory, perhaps, to treat first of Invention, and then of Style ; since it seems more natural, first to plan what to say, and then to study how to say it. But there are practical conveniences in following a different A 1 2 INTRODUCTION. order. Invention is the more difficult part of the subject, requiring greater maturity of mind on the jart of the learner. Style, on the other hand, connects itself closely with gram- matical studies, which always precede the study of Rhetoric, and has many details of a simple and concrete character, upon which the pupil may be exercised, before he can enter with profit upon the more abstract process of Invention. In the present treatise, therefore. Style is considered first, and Inven- tion afterward. Note 4. Although the general subject of Invention is thus placed last, the simpler kinds of exercises in it are clearly suitable to those who are beginning the study of Rhetoric. The student is recommended, therefore, to take up some of these simpler exercises at the same time that he begins the study of Style, and thus to carry on the two portions of the book simultaneously; in other words, to practise Invention while studying Style. 4. Rhetoric is divided into two parts : Part I. Style. Part II. Invention. Part I. STYLE. 1. Style is that part of Rhetoric which treats of the manner of expression. Note 1. Every expression of thought in words, even in the lowest and plainest forms, brings us within the domain of Gram- mar. But, beyond the bare expression of the thought, we can conceive of it as being uttered awkwardly or elegantly, plainly Or figuratively, concisely or diffusely, and in many other ways ; and the consideration of these varieties of expression takes us at once beyond the region of Grammar, and brings us into that of Rhetoric. Note 2. The word Style comes from the Latin stylus, a small steel instrument used by the Romans for writing on waxen tablets. The stylm was to the Roman writer what the pen is to us, and became, by an easy metaphor, the means of desig- nating any one's manner of composition, just as we now, by a like metaphor, speak of a gifted pen, a ready pen, meaning thereby a gifted or a ready author. Note 3. Style is concerned equally with Prose and Poetry, and with the various figures of speech which are common to both; it is coextensive with the whole range of composition and of discourse, both oral and written. It includes in its scope whatever, in the arts and contrivances of sgeech, can make the expression of thought more effective. In its lower forms it treats of Punctuation and the use of Capitals, and of other 3 4 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. mechanical contrivances which help to give clearness to the meaning ; in its higher forms it enters upon the region of the Imagination and the Passions, and deals with questions of Taste and Fancy. 2. The various topics included in Style are discussed in this book under the following heads: 1. Punctuation and Capitals. 2. Diction. 3. Sentences. 4. FiGUEES. 5. Special Properties of Style. 6. Metre. 7. Poetry. 8. Prose Composition. CHAPTER I. PUNCTUATION AND CAPITALS. 1. Punctuation is the art of dividing written discourse into sections by means of points, for the purpose of mark- ing the grammatical connection and dependence and making the sense more obvious to the eye. 2. Capitals are used for a like purpose ; they are, there- fore, properly discussed in connection with the Points. Note 1. That the sense is made more obvious to the eye by the vise of points will be evident from a slight experiment. A sentence written or printed in the manner of the ancients, that is, unpointed and un- spaced, and with the letters either all small or all capital, will look at first sight like something in an unknown tongue, or like nonsense. Here is an example, first in capitals, next in small letters, and then in the form now in use: EEADINGMAKETHAFULLMANCONFERENCBAREADYMAN WEITINGANEXACT4L4.N. readingmakethafullmanconferenceareadymanwritinganexactman. Reading maketh a full man ; conference, a ready man ; writing, an exact man. Note 2. It is sometimes stated in works on Rhetoric and Grammar that the points are for the purposes of elocution, and pupils are even directed to make a longer or shorter pause at each point. It is true that a pause required for elocutionary purposes does sometimes coincide with a grammatical point, and so the one aids the other. Yet it should not be forgotten that the first and main end of the points is to mark gram- matical divisions. Good elocution often requires a pause where there is no break whatever in the grammatical continuity, and where the inser- tion of a point would make nonsense. For instance, the most common & 6 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. of all the elocutionary pauses is that made for emphasis. If we wish to make a word emphatic, the usual device is, not to pronounce it very loudly, but to make a pause after it. This pause calls attention to the word, and with only a slight change in the tone of the voice makes the word emphatic. The insertion of a, point to mark this pause would often detach adjectives from their nouns, nominatives from their verbs, and would, in many other equally absurd ways, break up the connec- tion of the sentence. The following line from Shakespeare requires after " words " and " thoughts " a pause equal to that ordinarily assigned to a semicolon, perhaps equal to that assigned to a period : " My words fly up, my thoughts remain below." If a point were inserted to mark this pause, the whole meaning of the sentence would be obscured. Thus : " My words ; fly up, my thoughts ; remain below." If it were desirable to mark these elocutionary pauses typographically, perhaps the best device would be spacing. Thus : " My words fly up, my thoughts remain below." On the other hand, we write and print: "Yes, sir," "No, sir," but we pronounce: "Yessir," "Nosir," disregarding the comma. 3. The principal grammatical points are five, namely ; 1. The Comma , 2. The Semicolon ; 3. The Colon : 4. The Peeiod 5. The Intebeogation ? Note. These points have various degrees of disjunctive force in sepa- rating the parts of a sentence from each other. This force may be ex- pressed briefly as follows : The Period, except when used for an abbre- viation, marks the greatest separation of all, tlie parts between which it is placed being thereby rendered grammatically entirely independent of each other; the Colon marks a separation somewhat less than that of the Period ; the Semicolon, less than that of the Colon ; and the Comma, less than that of the Semicolon. The Interrogation, though usually counted as equivalent to a period, may be equivalent to a comma, a semicolon, a colon, or a period, according to circumstances. The Interrogation is sometimes called the Question Mark, or Mark of Interrogation. 4. Besides the five points already named, several other PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 7 characters are used for similar purposes. The most com- mon of these are the following : The Exclamation 1 The Dash — The Parenthesis ( ) The Bracket [ ] The Quotation " " The Apostrophe ' SECTION 1. The Comma. The Comma marks the smallest of the grammatical divisions of discourse requiring a point. Note 1. The word Comma was used originally to denote, not the mark, but the portion of the sentence thus set off. The same was true of the words Semicolon and Colon ; they meant originally portions of discourse, not, as now, the marks by which those portions are set off. Period, Interrogation, Parenthesis, and some other like words, are still used in both senses ; they mean portions of discourse, and also the marks by which those portions are set off. Note 2. The uses of the comma, which are very numerous, may nearly all be reduced to two heads. 1. The comma is used to set off by itself any part of a sentence which is, in some measure, detached in meaning from the rest, and has a sort of grammatical coherence and completeness of its own. 2. The comma is used to mark an ellipsis of some kind. Example : " Reading maketh a foil man ; conference, a ready man ; writing, an exact man." Here the ellipsis of the verb maketh after "conference," and after " writing," is indicated by the in- sertion of the comma. Note 3. Although nearly every instance of the use of the comma may be reduced under one or the other of these heads, yet, for prac- tical convenience in teaching its use, the various instances may very 8 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIO. properly be classified, forming a series of independent though con- nected rules.* Rule 1. Parenthetical Expressions.— Phrases and sin- gle words, used parenthetically, should be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas. Note 1. Parenthetical words and phrases belong rather to some unexpressed thought that is in the mind, than to the thought actually expressed in the sentence. Thus, in the sentence " It is mind, after all, which does the work of the world," the phrase after all belongs to some unexpressed thought, as though we were to say, "After all that may be conceded to other agmcies,we still daim for the mind, that it really does the work of the world." Sometimes the parenthetical word or phrase refers to what is expressed in the preceding sentence. Thus, " The dan- ger was fully explained to him. His passions, however, prevented his seeing it." Note 2. Many phrases and clauses, now treated as parenthetical expressions and separated from the rest of the sentence by commas, were formerly inclosed by marks of parenthesis. The difference be- tween a parenthesis and a parenthetical expression is mainly one of degree. If the clause or expression thus thrust into the body of a sen- tence is altogether independent in character, and may be omitted with- out disturbing the construction or impairing the meaning, it is still usu- ally inclosed in a parenthesis. But commas are gradually displacing the parenthesis, except in extreme and veiy manifest cases. Note 3. Some of the phrases which require to be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas are the following : in short, in truth, to be sure, in fact, as it were, to be brief, in fine, as it happens, after all, in reality, no doubt, you know, in brief, in a word, of course. > In framing these rules It is customary to say, of certain clauses or sections of a sentence, that they are separated from the rest of the sentence by commas, meaning that they have a comma before and a comma after. In some in- stances the section thus designated occurs at the beginning of the sentence, in which case it will of course have no comma before it; or it may occur at the end of a sentence, in which case it will have after it, not a comma, but a period, or some other mark greater than a comma. In the greater number of cases, however, the sections marked by the comma occur in the body of the sentence and require a comma before and a comma after ; therefore each rule will be expressed in this general form, leaving it to the common sense of the student to make the necessary modification of the rule for the smaller number of eases where the section is cut off at the beginning or at the end of a sentence. PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 9 Note 4. Some of the single words used parenthetically and there- fore separated from the rest of the sentence by commas are the fol- lowing: therefore, namely, moreover, then, consequently, surely, however, indeed, accordingly, perhaps, too, finally. Note 5. Most of the words last named, however, are capable of two constructions. They may belong either to the proposition as a whole, or to a single word in it. It is only when used in the former sense that they require to be set off by commas. Two or three examples will show the difierence : On this statement, then, you may rely. Then I believed you, now I do not. I thought, too, that you were discontented. I think you are too selfish. He promised, however, to set about reform at once. However much he promised, it was but little that he performed. In all these cases, it will be noticed that when the word has an ad- verbial character no commas are required ; but when the word becomes connective or conjunctional it is set off from the rest by commas. Note 6. Some words not strictly parenthentical, when standing at the beginning of a sentence and referring to the sentence as a whole, rather than to a particular word, are set off by a comma ; as, " Well, do as you Uke." " Why, this is all wrong." Some of the words thus used are well, why, now, yes, no, nay, again, further, first, secondly, thirdly, etc. In like manner here and there, now and then, when used to introduce contrasted expressions, are set off by a comma; as, "Here, all is peace and quietness; there, all is turmoil and strife." Examples for Practice. ^ 1. Gentleness is in truth the great avenue to real enjoyment. 2. The locomotive bellows as it were from the fury of passion. 3. He knows very well that come what may the note will be paid. 4. He had no doubt great aptitude for learning languages. 5. He went home accordingly and arranged his business. 6. There are in truth only two things to be considered namely his honesty and his abihty. 7. Come then and let us reason together. 8. No nation in short is free from danger. 10 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 9. When however the hour for the trial came, the man was not to be found. 10. Why those are the very books you want. 11. I proceed fourthly to prove the fact from your own words. 12. On the other hand there is great danger in delay. 13. We must however pay some respect to the opinions of one who has had so large an experience. 14. I have shown how just and equitable the arrangement it> ; and now what is the fair conclusion ? 15. Attend first to arithmetic ; 9,nd secondly to algebra. 16. Feudalism is in fact the embodiment of pride. 17. The meeting was after all somewhat of a failure. 18. Besides it may be of the greatest importance to you. Rule 2. Intermediate Expressions. — Clauses and ex- pressions, not parenthetical in character, yet so placed as to come between some of the essential parts of the sen- tence, as, for instance, between the subject and the pre- dicate, may be called intermediate expressions, and should be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas. Note. Some of the expressions treated under this rule may be treated also under Rule 3. Examples for Practice. 1. Classical studies regarded merely as a means of culture are deserving of general attention. 2. The sun with all its train of attendant planets is but a small and inconsiderable portion of the universe. 3. We have endeavored in the preceding paragraph to show the incorrectness of his position. 4. "Nature through all her works delights in variety. 5. The speaker proceeded with the greatest animation to depict the horrors of the scene. 6. Christianity is in a most important sense the religion of sorrow. 7. A man of great wealth may for want of education and re- finement of manner be a mere cipher in society. 8. Truth like gold shines brighter by collision. 9. Charity on whatever side we contemplate it is one of the highest Christian graces. PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 11 10. One hour a day steadily given to a particular study will bring in time large accumulations. Rule 3. Clauses of Condition and Dependence. — Clauses which express a condition and dependence upon each other should be separated from each other by a comma. Note 1. One of the clauses usually begins with if, unless, or other word expressive of condition, purpose, cause, time, place, or the like ; as, " If you would succeed in business, be honest and industrious." " The tree will not bear fruit in autumn, unless it blossoms in spring." This conditional word, however, is not always expressed, the condi- tion being sometimes implied; as, "Breathe into a man an earnest purpose, and you awalcen in him a new power." Here the meaning is, " If you breathe into a man an earnest purpose, you will awaken," etc. Note 2. This rule does not apply where the grammatical connection is very close and the succeeding clause is rather adverbial and restrictive (see Rule 4) ; as, " You will reap as you sow," " You may go when you please." Note 3. For the same reason, clauses united by the conjunction that should not be separated by a comma ; as, " He went abroad tliat he might have opportunities for study." When, however, the conjunction is re- moved some distance from the verb, so that the grammatical continuity is somewhat broken, the comma is used; as, "He went through the principal provinces of the empire, that he might see for himself the condition of the people." Examples for Practice. Note. In punctuating these examples, and those which are to follow, insert not only the points required by the rule under consideration but also those required by all the preceding rules. 1. If you would succeed in business be punctual in observing your engagements. 2. The days in December you know are at their shortest and therefore you must rise by the dawn if you would have much daylight. 3. The reader should however as he proceeds from sentence to sentence make a note of whatever strikes his attention. 4. The good which you do may not be lost though it may be forgotten. 6. Good deeds though forgotten are not wholly lost. 12 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. 6. John went last year to Canton where he is doing they say an excellent business. 7. If wishes were horses beggars might ride. 8. Unless you bridle your tongue you will assuredly be shut out from good society. 9. We should in all probability be ashamed of much that we boast of could the world see our real motive. 10. You may go home as soon as you like. 11. One object of studying Rhetoric is that we may compose better. Rule 4. Relative Clauses. — In modern practice every relative clause (whether pronominal or adverbial), if it is co-ordinative, is marked off with a comma; but if it is restrictive, it is not marked off. John, who happened to be in the garden, saw the carriage drive up. John was in the garden, where he had been since breakfast, when the carriage drove up. At this critical juncture, when England was threatened by a coalition of European powers, Hastings was fortunately at the head of affairs in India. The above who, where, when are co-ordinative. The following who, where, when are restrictive and therefore without commas : We have not time to enumerate all the other great men who were attached to the government. This monument marks the spot where General fell. The time was approaching when England was to be assailed. The difference between co-ordination and restriction is one of principle and demands close thinking. The student will learn the difference by bearing in mind that a co-ordinative word merely repeats without modification the thought expressed in the. ante- cedent. Thus : In practical life, where we have to act, the formation of judgments is a necessity. Where merely repeats practical life. But in the following : Venice is a city where there is no need of carriages and liorses. the word where does not merely repeat city ; on the contrary, PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 13 it modifies and defines Venice to be one particular city, differ- ent from every other. It will be a practical help to remember that the relative pro- noun after a proper noun or other personal designation is nearly always co-ordinative. Thus : The arrest was pronounced unlawful by the Court of Common Pleas, in which Chief Justice Pratt presided. There is only one court of Common Pleas in England. John, who was in the garden at the time. There is usually only one John in one particular narrative. But it would be incorrect to introduce a comma in the fol- lowing example : Which John do you mean ? I mean the John who was here yester- day. In this last sentence who is plainly restrictive. Note 1. A comma should be put before the relative, even when used restrictively, if several words intervene between it and its grammatical antecedent; as, "He preaches most eloquently, who leads the most pious life;" "No thought can be just, of which good sense is not the groundwork." Note 2. When the relative has for its antecedent several succeeding nouns or clauses, it should be separated fVom them by a comma, even though the relative clause is restrictive. Thus : " There are fruits which never ripen." " There are apples, pears, and plums, which never ripen." Here, if the comma after " plums " were omitted, the fact of never ripen- ing would be restricted to plums, and the meaning would be, " There are apples, there are pears, and there are unripening plums." Examples for Practice. 1. A fierce spirit of rivalry which is at all times a dangerous passion had now taken full possession of him. 2. The spirit which actuated him was a thirst for vengeance. 3. The man of letters who has constantly before him exam- ples of excellence ought himself to be a pattern of excellence. 4. Books which are the repositories of knowledge are an in- dispensable part of the furniture of a house. 6. Every teacher must love a pupil who is docile. 6. The child was much attached to his teacher who loved him dearly. 14 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIG. 7. Patriotism consists in loving the country in which we were born. 8. The eye which sees all things is unseen to itself. 9. Death is the season which tests our principles. 10. No man can be thoroughly proficient in navigation who has never been at sea. 11. The father of Epic poetry is Homer who has given us in the Iliad the story of Troy divine. 12. The powers which now move the world are the printing- press and the telegraph. 13. America may well boast of her Washington whose charac- ter and fame are the common property of the world. Rule 5. A Continued Sentence consisting of Oo-ordi- nate Sentences.— In a continued sentence consisting of co-ordinate sentences the several co-ordinate sentences, if simple in structure, are separated from each other by commas. Note. If, however, these co-ordinate members are complex and in- volved, especially if they have commas within themselves, the members should be separated by a semicolon ; as, " Crafty men, though they may pretend otherwise, contemn studies; simple men, though they really care nothing about the matter, yet pretend to admire them ; wise men use them." Examples for Practice. 1. Crafty men contemn studies simple men admire them and wise men use them. 2. Speak as you mean do as you profess perform what you promise. 3. CsBsar was dead the senators were dispersed all Rome was in confusion. 4. France was again reduced to its original geographical boundaries and England after a struggle of twenty years was undisputed mistress of the seas. 5. Modern engineering spans whole continents tunnels alike mountains and rivers and dykes out old ocean himself Rule 6. Expressions forming a Series.— Grammatical expressions in the same construction, forming a series PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 15 should be separated from each other, and from what fol- lows, by commas. Note 1. Grammatical expression is here used in tlie sense of a col- lection of words having some grammatical dependence and connection bnt not containing in themselves a predicate. Note 2. If the expressions are brief, and there are hut two of them, connected by and, or, or nor, no comma is needed ; as, " Hard study and neglect of exercise impair the health." If, however, the two connected expressions differ much in form, it is better to set them off by commas ; as, " Hard study, and the entire absence of attention to the matter of diet, bring on disease." Examples for Practice. 1. Love for study a desire to do right and carefulness in the choice of friends are important traits of character. 2. To cleanse our opinions from falsehood our hearts from malignity and our actions from vice is our chief concern. 3. Did God create for the poor a coarser earth a thinner air a paler sky ? 4. Infinite space endless numbers and eternal duration fill the mind with great ideas. 5. On the rich and the eloquent on nobles and priests the Puritans looked down with contempt. Rule 7. Words forming a Series. — Words in the same construction, forming a series, admit of the following three cases : 1. There may be a conjunction between each two of the words; as, "Industry and honesty and frugality and temper- ance are among the cardinal virtues." In this case none of the words in the series are to be separated by commas. 2. The conjunction may be omitted, except between the last two of the words ; as, " Industry, honesty, frugality, and tem- perance are among the cardinal virtues." In this case all the words are to be separated from each other by commas. 3. The conjunction may be omitted between the last two words, as well as between the others ; as, " Industry, honesty, frugality, temperance, are among the cardinal virtues." In this case not only all the words of the series are to be sepa- rated from each other by commas but a comma is to be in- 16 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. serted also after the last word, if it is a noun, to separate it from the followmg verb. Note. In such expressions as "A beautiful white horse," no comma should be inserted between the two adjectives, because they are not in the same grammatical construction. "White" belongs to "horse" merely. " Beautiful " belongs properly to the whole expression " white horse." It is not simply the "horse," but the "white horse," that is said to be beautiful. Examples for Practice. 1. He was brave and pious and patriotic in all his aspirations. 2. He was brave pious and patriotic iu all his aspirations. 3. He was brave pious patriotic in all his aspirations. 4. He was a brave pious patriotic man. 5. Aright aleft above below he whirled the rapid sword. 6. The address was beautifully elegantly and forcibly written. 7. Can flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death ? 8. Within around and above us we see traces of the Creator's hand. 9. We are fearfully wonderfully made. 10. The sun the moon the planets the stars revolve. 11. The sun the moon the planets the stars are all in motion. 12. The sun the moon the planets and the stars are all in motion. 13. Virtue religion is the one thing needful. 14. It is a useful accomplishment to be able to read write spell or cipher with accuracy. Rule 8. Words or Phrases in Pairs. — Words or phrases in pairs take a comma between each two pairs. Examples for Practice. 1. Anarchy and confusion poverty and distress desolation and ruin are the consequences of civil war. 2. Truth and integrity kindness and modesty reverence and devotion were all remarked in him. 3. The poor and the rich the weak and the strong the young and the old have one common Father. 4. To have and to hold for better for worse for richer for poorer in sickness and in health to love and to cherish. PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 17 5. Eating or drinking laboring or sleeping let us do all in moderation. EuLE 9. Nouns in Apposition. — A noun in apposition to some preceding noun or pronoun, and having an ad- junct consisting of several words, should, with all its con- nected words, be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas. Note 1. This construction is sometimes inverted, the noun in apposi- tion, with its adjuncts, being placed first. In that case this preceding noun with its adjuncts should be separated from the main noun or pro- noun by a comma ; as, " Himself the greatest of agitators, Napoleon be- came the most repressive of tyrants." (See Rule 12.) Note 2. Where the noun put in apposition stands alone, or has only an article before it, no comma is required between the noun and the word with which it is in apposition ; as, " Paul the apostle was a man of energy." " Mason Brothers." Note 3. A noun following another as a synonym, or as giving addi- tional illustration to the thought, is separated from the rest of the sen- tence by a comma before and after ; as, " The word Poet, meaning a maker, a creator, is derived from the Greek." Note 4. When a noun is predicated of the noun or pronoun with which it is in apposition, no comma is required between them ; as, "They have just elected him Governor of the State." Note 5. After several words containing a description of a person or thing, if the name of the person or thing is added, it should be set off from the rest of the sentence by commas ; as, " The greatest of poets among the ancients, Homer, like the greatest among the moderns, Mil- ton, was blind. Note 6. A title, whether abbreviated or expressed in full, when an- nexed to a noun or pronoun, must be set off by commas ; as, "At the request of the Rt. Rev. W. H. Odenheimer, D.D., the ceremony was postponed." Examples for Practice. 1. We the people of the United States do hereby ordain and establish this Constitution. 2. Paul the great apostle of the Gentiles was a man of energy. 3. Virgil the chief poet among the Romans was fond of rural life. 2 18 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. 4. The poet Shakespeare is now considered the greatest of writers ancient or modern. 5. Newton the great mathematician was a devout believer in Christianity. 6. Spenser the author of the Faery Queen Uved in the time of Queen Elizabeth. 7. Strength energy is what you want. 8. Plutarch calls anger a brief madness. 9. The chief work of Chaucer the Canterbury Tales suggested to Longfellow the plan of the Tales of a Wayside Inn. 10. John Chapman Doctor of Medicine. John Chapman M.D. 11. The wisest of the ancients Socrates wrote nothing. 12. A man of prodigious learning he was a pattern of modesty. Rule 10. The Vocative Case. — A noun in the vocative case, or, as it is called in English, the Case Independent, together with its adjunct words, should be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas. Examples for Practice. 1. Accept my dear young fiiends this expression of my regard. 2. I beg sir to acknowledge the receipt of your favor. 3. I rise Mr. President to a point of order. 4. Show pity Lord ! O Lord forgive ! 5. Remember sir you cannot have it. Rule 11. The Case Absolute. — A clause containing the construction known as the case absolute should be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas. Examples for Practice. 1. Then came Jesus the doors being shut and stood in the midst. 2. A state of ease is generally speaking more attainable than a state of pleasure. 3. Shame lost all virtue is lost. 4. His father being dead the prince ascended the throne. 5. I being in the way the Lord led me to the house of my master's brother. PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 19 Rule 12. Inverted Clauses. — An inverted clause, stand- ing at the beginning of a sentence, should be separated irom the rest of the sentence by a comma. Note. The infinitive mood, especially when used to express object or design, is often inverted in this way ; as, " To.obtain an education, he was willing to make sacrifices." The expressions To proceed, to conclude, etc., when placed at the beginning of a paragraph, and referring to the whole of it, should be separated from what follows by a colon. Examples for Practice. 1. Awkward in person he was ill adapted to gain respect. 2. Of all our senses sight is the most important. 3. To supply the deficiency he resorted to a shameful trick. 4. Living in filth the poor cease to respect one another. 5. To confess the truth I never greatly admired him. EuLE 13. Ellipsis of the Verb. — In continued sentences, having a common verb which is expressed in one of the members but omitted in the others, the ellipsis of the verb is marked by a comma. Examples for Practice. 1. Eeading maketh a fiiU man ; conference a ready man ; writing an exact man. 2. Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil the better artist. 3. Semiramis built Babylon; Dido Carthage; and Komulus Eome. Rule 14. Short Quotations. — A short quotation, or a short sentence resembling a quotation, is preceded by a comma, though some writers prefer a colon.' Examples for Practice. 1. Patrick Henry began his celebrated speech by saying " It is natural to man to indulge the illusions of hope." 2. A good rule in education is " Learn to be slow in forming your opinions." 3. I say " There is no such thing as human perfection." 1 See Section III., Eule 2. 20 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. SECTION II. The Semicolon. The Semicolon marks a division of a sentence some- what larger and more complex than that marked by a comma. Rule 1. Clauses and Expressions having a Common Dependence. — When several clauses or grammatical ex- pressions of similar construction follow each other in a series, all having a common dependence upon some other clause, they are separated from each other by a semicolon. Example: "Philosophers assert, that Nature is unlimited in her operations ; that she has inexhaustible treasures in reserve ; that know- ledge will always be progressive; and that all future generations will continue to make discoveries." Note. If the clause on which the series depends comes at the end of the sentence, it is separated from the series, sometimes by a colon, and sometimes by a comma followed by a dash. Thus : That Nature is un- limited in her operations; that she has inexhaustible treasures in re- serve; that knowledge will always be progressive; and that all future generations will continue to make discoveries: these are among the assertions of philosophers. If we think of glory in the field ; of wisdom in the cabinet ; of the purest patriotism ; of the highest integrity, public and private ; of morals without a stain ; of religious feeling without intolerance and without extravagance,— the august figure of "Washington presents itself as the personation of all these. Examples for Practice. 1. Mr. Croker is perpetually stopping us in our progress through the most delightful narrative in the language to ob- serve that really Dr. Johnson was very rude that he talked more for victory than for truth that his taste for port-wine with capillaire in it was very odd that Boswell was impertinent and that it was foolish in Mrs. Thrale to marry the music-master. 2. To give an early preference to honor above gain when they stand in competition to despise every advantage which cannot PUNCTUATION— SEMICOLON. 21 be attained without dishonest acts to brook no meanness and to stoop to no dissimulations are the indications of a great mind. Rule 2. Sentences connected in Meaning, but with- out Grammatical Dependence. — When several sentences follow each other, without any grammatical dependence, but closely connected in thought and movement, they are usually separated from each other by semicolons. Example : " She presses her child to her heart ; she drowns it in her tears ; her fancy catches more than an angel's tongue can describe." Note. In all the cases which come under this Rule, two features are essential. First, each of the several members forming the continued sentence should be complete in itself, so that it might grammatically stand alone, with a period following. Secondly, these several members sliWuld have some miderlying thread of connection in the thought. Authors differ in regard to the punctuation, in these cases. Some insist on separating the members by a period. By such a course, however, we lose one important means of marking the thread of connection. Others use the colon, instead of the semicolon. This was the cus- tom formerly much more than now. The best usage at present is to employ a period, a colon, a semicolon, or a comma, according to the degree of complexity or simplicity of the several sentences, and the degree of closeness or looseness of connection in the thought. If the connection is close, and the successive members are short and simple, the comma is used ; if the members are somewhat longer, and especially if any of them are at all complex, the semicolon is used ; if, in addition to this, the connection in the thought is but faint, the colon is used ; and when the connection almost disappears, the period is used. The con- nection in the thought does not disappear entirely until the close of the paragraph. Examples fop Practice. 1. Stones grow vegetables grow and live animals grow live and feel. 2. The summer is over and gone the winter is here with its frosts and snows the winds howls in the chimney at night the beast in the forest forsakes its lair the birds of the air seek the habitation of men. 3. The temples are profaned the soldier's oath resounds in the house of God the marble pavement is trampled by iron hoofs horses neigh beside the altar. 22 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. Rule 3. The Clause Additional.— When a sentence grammatically complete in itself is followed by a clause which is added by way of inference, explanation, or enumeration, this added clause, if formally introduced by a connective word, is marked off by a comma ; but if introduced without a connective, it is marked off by a semicolon. 1. Apply yourself to study, for it will redound to your honor. 2. Apply yourself to study ; it will redound to your honor. Note. Some of the connecting words most commonly used for this purpose are namely, for, to wit, etc. Examples for Practice. 1. Greece has given us three great historians namely Herod- otus Xenophon and Thucydides. • 2. Some writers divide the history of the world into four ages viz. the golden age the silver age the bronze age and the iron age. 3. Some writers divide the history of the world into four ages the golden age the silver age the bronze age and the iron age. 4. Cicero in his treatise on morals enumerates foru cardinal virtues to wit Fortitude Temperance Justice and Prudence. Rule 4. A General Term in Apposition to the Par- ticulars under it. — -When a general term stands in appo- sition to several others which are particulars under it, the general term is separated from the particulars by a semi- colon, and the particulars are separated from each other by commas. Note. If the enumeration of the particulars is given with much formality, so as to make the several expressions complex, containing commas of their own, then these particulars are separated from the gen- eral term by a colon, and from each other by semicolons ; as, — Adjective Pronouns are divided into three classes; Distributive, Demonstrative, and Indefinite. Adjective Pronouns are divided into these three classes: first, the Distributive, which are four in number ; secondly, the Demonstrative, which are four ; and thirdly, the Indefinite, which are nine. The use, however, of the colon after the introductory clause, irre- spective of the succeeding punctuation, has become quite general, PUNCTUATION— COLON. 23 SECTION III. The Colon. The Colon marks a division of a sentence more nearly complete than that of a semicolon. Note. Some of the uses of the colon have already been given in Section II., Rules 3 and 4. Rule 1. Greater Divisions of Complex Sentences. — "When the minor divisions of a complex sentence contain a semicolon, the greater divisions should be separated by a colon ; thus, — As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not perceive it moving; and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ever saw it grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such insensible steps, are only perceivable by the distance. Rule 2. Before a Quotation. — A colon is used before a quotation of some length ; as, — Speaking of party. Pope makes this remark : " There never was any party, faction, sect, or cabal whatsoever, in which the most ignorant were not the most violent." Note 1. If the quotation is of considerable length, consisting of sev- eral sentences, or if it b^ns a new paragraph, it should be preceded by both a colon and a dash ; as, — At the close of the meeting, the president rose and said : — " Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with extreme reluctance that I address you on this occasion," etc. Note 2. If the quotation is merely a short saying, a comma is suf- ficient; as. Dr. Thomas Brown says, "The benovolent spirit is as uni- versal as the miseries which are capable of being relieved." (See Sec- tion I., Rule 14.) Rule 3. Yes and No. — When the words yes and no are followed by a noun in the vocative case, and a period is not required, a colon is put after the vocative : as, — " Yes, sir : they can do it." " Yes, my lords : I am amazed at his lordship's speech." This rule, however, is now frequently neglected, the semicolon, or even the comma, being substituted. 24 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. Rule 4. Titles of Books and Compositions. — Some- times the main title of a book is followed by an alterna- tive or explanatory title, in apposition. If this alternative title is introduced by the conjunction or, a semicolon should precede the or, and a comma follow it ; but if or is not used, then the alternative title should be separated from the main one by a colon ; as, — Literature in Letters ; or, Manners, Art, Criticism, Biography, etc. Bnglisli Grammar ; An Exposition of the Principles and Usages of the English Language. Examples for Practice on the Rules for the Com- ma, the Semicolon, and the Colon. [To the Student. Give the Rule for each Comma, Semicolon, or Colon that you find in the examples which are punctuated ; and insert these points where needed, giving the Rules for the same, in the exam- ples not punctuated. In the unpunctuated sentences, the mark o is in- serted at the places where a point of some kind is due.] 1. Satire always tends to dwarf o and it cannot fail to carica- ture o but poetry does nothing o if it does not tend to enlarge and exalt o and if it does not seek rather to beautify than deform. 2. WJien he invites Tyndaris to his villa, the spot is brought before the eye : the she-goats browsing amid the arbute and wild thyme ; the pebbly slopes of Ustica ; the green nooks shel- tered from the dog-star ; the noon-day entertainment ; the light wines and the lute. 3. The fundamental characteristic of man is spiritual hun- ger o the universe of thought and matter is spiritual food. 4. He feeds on Nature o he feeds on ideas o he feeds o through art o science o literature o and history o on the acts and thoughts of other minds. 5. This is an iambic line in which the first foot is formed of a word and a part of a word o the second and third o of parts taken from the body or interior of a word o the fourth o of a part and a whole o the fifth o of two complete words. 6. Melissa o like the bee o gathers honey from every weed o while Arachne o like the spider o sucks poison from the fair- est flowers. PUNCTUATION— PERIOD. 25 7. The present life is not wholly prosaic o precise o tame o and finite o to the gifted eye o it abounds in the poetic. 8. Are these to be conquered by all Europe united ? No o sir o no united nation can be o that has the spirit to resolve not to be conquered. 9. Be our own plain answer this o The throne we honor is the people's choice o the laws we reverence are our brave lathers' legacy o the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind o and die with hope of bliss be- yond the grave. 10. The discourse consisted of two parts o in the first was shown the necessity of exercise o in the second o the advan- tages that would result from it. -»o;*;o SECTION IV. The Period. The Period marks the completion of the sentence. Rule 1. Complete Sentences. — Sentences which are complete in sense, and not connected in construction with what follows, and not exclamatory or interrogative in their character, should be followed by a period. Note. The conjunctions and, hut, for, etc., at the beginning of a sen- tence, do not always indicate such a degree of connection with what precedes as to prevent the use of the period before them. This is es- pecially the case in the Bible. (Luke xxiii. 27, 28, 29.) ''And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning unto them said, Daugh- ters of Jerusulem, weep not for rae, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. Fm, behold, the days are coming, in which they shall say," etc. Rule 2. After Titles, etc. — A period should be used after the title, or any of the headings, of a book ; after the author's name and titles, on the title-page ; after the ad- dress of a person, on a letter or note ; and after each sig- nature to a letter or other document. c 26 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Note i. A title-page consists usually of three parts, each ending in a period. These are, 1. The title of the book ; 2. The name of the author, with any titles of honor or office that may be appended to it ; 3. The name of the publisher, with the date and place of publication. Exam- ple. A Treatise on Meteorology, with a Collection of Meteorological Tables. By Elias Loomis, LL.D., Professor of Natural Philosophy and Astronomy in Yale College, and author of a Course of Mathematics. New York : Harper & Brothers, 1897. Note 2. In addressing a letter, the residence, if given, is part of the address. There should be a comma between the several parts, and a period at the end of the whole. Example. John Simpson, 21 Green Street, Philadelphia. Rule 3. After Abbreviations. — A period is used after all abbreviated words. Note 1. The most common method of abbreviation is to use the first letter of a word for the whole word, as, B. Franklin for Benjamin Frank- lin. Sometimes the first letter is doubled to indicate the plural ; as p. for page, pp. for pages, M. for Monsieur, MM. for Messieurs. In such cases a. period is not inserted between the two letters which represent the plural of one word. This explains why there is no period between the two L's in the title LL.D. (Legum Doctor), the LL. standing for one word in the plural, and the D. for the other word in the singular. Sometimes a word is abbreviated by taking the first two or three letters, as Eng. for England ; sometimes by taking the first letter and the last, as Wm. for William, La. for Louisiana; sometimes by taking the first letter and some leading letter in the middle of the word, as Mo. for Missouri, MS. for Manuscript. In these cases the period is to be used only at the end of the combined letters. In the case last cited the last letter of the com- bination is doubled when the word is plural ; as, MS. manuscript, MSS. manuscripts. Note 2. When an abbreviated word comes at the end of a sentence, it is not necessary to use two periods. One point is sufficient to mark both the abbreviation and the end of the sentence. But if the construc- tion requires some other point, as the comma, semicolon, colon, interro- gation, etc., both points must be inserted, one to mark the grammatical construction, the other to mark the abbreviation ; as, " He reported the death of John Chapman, M.D." "John Chapman, M.D., at the early age of twenty-four, was carried off by disease." Note 3. When two or more abbreviated titles follow each other, they must be separated from each other by commas, just as they would be if written out in full. Thus : " Thomas Sumner, Doctor of Divinity, Doc- tor of Laws, Bishop of London," abbreviated, becomes, "Thomas Sum- ner, D.D., LL,D., Bp. of London," PUNCTUATION— PERIOD. 11 Note 4. Proper names are sometimes permanently shortened, the short form being meant, not as an ordinary abbreviation, but as the real and true name. This was the case with the celebrated dramatist, Ben Johnson. We have analogous and more familiar instances in Ned Bunt- line, Bill Smith, Tom Jones, etc. In such cases no period should be in- serted to mark abbreviation. Note 5. In like manner, various other abbreviations which are in veiy familiar use acquire the character of integral words, not requiring the period after them to denote abbreviations. They become nouns, with a singular and a plural. Thus, in England, Cantab (an abridg- ment of Cantabrigiensis, and meaning an alumnus of Cambridge Uni- versity) has become a noun, the body of the alumni being called Can- tabs, and any one of them a Cantab. In like manner, we have Jap and Japs for Japanese, consol and consols for consolidated loan or consoli- dated loans of the British Government, three per cents, five per cents, etc. Note 6. The letters of the alphabet, a, b, c, etc.. A, B, C, etc., when used in mathematics to represent quantities, are not abbreviations, and do not take a period. Similarly, the letters used in chemistry to desig- nate the elements, as H, N, 0, for Hydrogen, Nitrogen, Oxygen, do not take a period. Note 7. When the letters of the alphabet are used to represent numerals, it is customary to insert a period at the end of each completed numeral ; as, Ps. xxxui. 2, meaning, the thirty-third Psalm, second verse. Note 8. The Arabic figures, 1, 2, 3, etc., and the various marks used by printers, as g for section, \ for paragraph, etc., are not abbreviations, but stand for whole words, and therefore do not require the period. The period is used, however, before decimals, and between pounds and shil- Ungs ; as, £2. 10s. 4d. sterling is worth $13.72 at the present rate of ex- change. Note 9. The words 4to, 8vo, 12mo, etc., are not strictly abbrevia- tions, the figures representing a part of the word. If the letters were written in place of the figures which represent them, it would be seen at once that the words are complete, guar-to, oc«a-vo, duodeci-mo, etc. Periods therefore are not required for such words. The same rule will apply to 1st, 2dly, 3dly, etc. Examples for Practice. [To the Student. Give the Rule for each comma, semicolon, colon, or period that you find in the examples which are punctuated ; and insert these points where needed, giving the Rules for the same, in the exam- ples not punctuated. When a period is not used to mark the end of a sentence, the word following, if there is one, should begin with » capital.] 28 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 1. Excellence in conversation depends o in a great measure o on the attainments which one has made o ifo therefore o edu- cation is neglected o conversation will become trifling o if per- verted o corrupting. 2. The laws of Phoroneus were established 1807 B C o those of Lycurgus o 884 B C o of Draco o 623 B C o of Solon o 587 B C o See chap vii ^ xiv If 7 p 617 3. The reader is requested to refer to the following passages of Scripture o Ex xx 18 Deut xx 21 2 Sam xix 2 4. Bought o on 9 mos credit o the following articles o 4 yds 3 qrs 2 n of broadcloth at $12 a yd o 6 gals 1 pt 2 gi of vinegar at 65 cts a gal o and 3^ cords of wood at $7.50 a cord 5. Poetry was not the sole praise of either ; for both excelled likewise in prose ; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. 6. Dryden's page is a natural field o rising into inequalities o and -diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegeta- tion o Pope's is a velvet lawn o shaven by the scythe o and levelled by the roller. 7. Of genius o that power which constitutes a poet o that quality without which judgment is cold o and knowledge is inert o that energy which collects o combines o amplifies o and animates o the superiority must o with some hesitation o be allowed to Dryden o 8. It is not to be inferred, that of this poetical vigor Pope had only a little, because Dryden had more ; for every other writer since Milton must give place to Pope ; and even of Dryden it must be said, that, if he has brighter paragraphs, he has not better poems. SECTION V. The INTERROOATIO^f Point. An Interrogation Point is used for marking questions. Rule 1. Direct Questions.— The interrogation point should be placed at the end of every direct question. PUNCTUATION— EXCLAMATION. 29 Note 1. A direct question is one in regular form, requiring, or at least admitting an answer ; as, " Why do you neglect your duty 7" An indirect question is one that is merely reported or spoken of; as, " He inquired why you neglected your duty." Note 2. Sometimes a question is intended, although the words are not put in the usual interrogative form. Thus : " You will come this afternoon?" In such cases the interrogation point should be used, as in this example, although the sentence may be declarative in its form. SECTION VI. The Exclamation Point. The Exclamation Point is used for marking strong emotion. Rule 1. The exclamation point is put at the close of every sentence which is grammatically in the form of an exclaitaation ; also after inteqections. Note 1. Inexperienced and weak writers are apt to deal largely in the use of the exclamation point, as if to make up for the feebleness of the thought by mere tricks of punctuation. Young writers therefore should be on their guard in this matter, and not use the exclamation point un- less they wish to express really strong emotion. Fie on him ! Ah me ! Oh ! it hurts me ! Oh that I could find him ! Lord of hosts ! ' Note 2. Where the interjection does not stand by itself, but forms part of a sentence, clause, or expression, the exclamation point should be placed at the end of the whole expression, and not immediately after the interjection ; as, " O wretched state ! bosom black as death !" Note 3. When oh is followed by an adverbial expression of time, place, or manner, there should be a comma after the oh, and the excla- mation point at the end of the whole expression ; as, " Oh, where shall rest be found !" Note 4. When an interjection is repeated several times, the words are separated from each other by a comma, the exclamation being put > precedes the vocative : oh precedes a strong wish. But the distinction is less observed in America than in England, and even in England is not rigorously observed. 30 COMPOSITION AND BHETOEIO. only after the last; as, "Fie, fie, fie! pah, pah! give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination." Note 5. Two of the inteijections, eh and hey, are sometimes uttered in a peculiar tone, so as to ask a question. In that case they are fol- lowed by the interrogation point ; as, " You thought you would not be found out, eh?" Rule 2. Where the emotion to be expressed is very- strong, more than one exclamation point is sometimes used ; as, " That man virtuous ! ! You might as well preach to me of the virtue of Judas Iscariot ! !" Note. This mode of repeating the exclamation point is much used in burlesque and satire. Examples for Praetiee. [Note. These examples, though intended mainly for illustrating the Rules for the marks of Interrogation and Exclamation, will yet serve the incidental purpose of reviewing all the preceding rules.] 1. Why o for so many a year o has the poet wandered amid the fragments of Athens and Eome o and paused o with strange and kindling feehngs o amid their broken columns o their mouldering temples o their deserted plains o 2. Greece o indeed o fell o but how did she fall o Did she fall like Babylon o Did she fall like Lucifer o never to rise again o 3. Rouse o ye Romans o rouse o ye slaves o 4. Down o soothless insulter o I trust not the tale o 5. Have you eyes o Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed o and batten on this moor o Ha o have you eyes o You cannot call it love o for o at your age o the hey-day in the blood is tame, it 's humble, and waits upon the judgment o and what judgment would step from this to this o 6. Charge o Chester o charge o on o Stanley o on o 7. Who o in a sea-fight o ever thought of the price of the chain which beats out the brains of a pirate o or of the odor of the splinter which shatters his leg o 8. King Charles o forsooth o had so many private virtues o And had James no private virtues o Was even Oliver Crom- well o his bitterest enemies themselves being judges o desti- tute of private virtues o And what o after all o are the vir- tues ascribed to Charles o PUNCTUATION— DASH. 31 9. Ho o trumpets o sound a war-note o 10. Oh o was there ever such a knight o in friendship or in war o as our sovereign lord o King Henry o the soldier of Navarre o SECTION VII. The Dash. The Dash is used chiefly, either to mark a sudden change or interruption in the structure of the sentence, or to mark some elocutionary pause. Rule 1. Construction Changed. — A dash is used where the construction of the sentence is abruptly broken off or changed; as, — Was there ever a bolder captain of a more valiant band? Was there ever — ^but I scorn to boast. Rule 2. Emphatic Generalization. — A dash is some- times used to mark the transition from a succession of particulars to some emphatic general expression which in- cludes them all ; as, — He was witty, learned, industrious, plausible, — everything but honest. Rdle 3. Elocutionary Pause. — A dash is sometimes used to mark a significant pause, where there is no break in the grammatical construction ; as, — You have given the command to a person of illustrious birth, of an- cient family, of innumerable statues, but — of no experience. Note. The mark here is purely elocutionary, and, although employed by some writers, is not to be commended to the young. A good reader wiU pause some perceptible time after the hut, whether there is a mark there or not. The dash serves to indicate to the eye what the good reader will indicate by his voice. This particular use of the dash is pretty well established, and can scarcely be changed now. But were the matter of elocutionary notation to be undertaken anew, it would seem better to mark this suspension of the voice by a blank space than by a dash, the dash being used for other and very different purposes. 32 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Rule 4. Expressions dependent upon a Concluding Clause.— When there is a long series of clauses or expres- sions, all dependent upon some concluding clause, it is usual, in passing from the preceding part of the passage to that upon which the whole depends, to mark the transi- tion by inserting a dash, in addition to the comma ; as,— The great men of Rome, her beautiful legends, her history, the height to which she rose, and the depth to which she fell,— these make up one half of a student's ideal world. EuLE 5. Rhetorical Repetition. — When a word or an ex- pression is repeated for rhetorical purposes, the construc- tion being begun anew, a dash should be inserted before each repetition ; as, — Shall I, who was born, I might almost say, but certainly brought up, in the tent of my father, that most excellent general — shall I, the con- queror of Spain and Gaul, and not only of the Alpine nations, but of the Alps themselves — shall I compare myself with this half-year captain ? Rule 6. Reflex Apposition. — Words standing some- what detached at the end of a sentence, and referring back by apposition to preceding parts of the sentence, should be separated from the previous portions by a dash ; as, — The four greatest names in English poetry are among the first we come to, — Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton. Kings and their subjects, masters and their slaves, find a common level in two places, — at the cross, and in the grave. Rule 7. The Dash Parenthetical. — Parenthetical' ex- pressions are sometimes included between two dashes, instead of the usual signs of parenthesis ; as, — "The smile of a child— always so ready when there is no distress, and so soon recurring when that distress has passed away — is like an opening of the sky, showing heaven beyond." Note 1. If the parenthetical words express a question or an excla- mation, they must be followed by an interrogation point or an exclama- tion point, before the concluding dash ; as. Religion— who can doubt it? — is the noblest theme for the exercise of the intellect. Note 2. When one parenthetical expression is included within PUNCTUATION— DASH. 33 another, that which is least connected in construction should be set off by the marks of parenthesis, and the other by dashes ; as, — " Sir Smug," he cries, (for lowest at the board — Just made fifth chaplain of his patron lord, His shoulders witnessing, by many a shrug. How much his feelings suffered — sat Sir Smug), • " Your oflSce is to winnow false from true ; Come, prophet, drink ; and tell us what think you." Rule 8. Question and Answer. — If question and an- swer, instead of beginning separate lines, are run into a paragraph, they should be separated by a dash ; as, — Who made you ? — God. What else did God make ? — God made all things. Why did God make you and all things ? — God made all things for his own glory. Rule 9. Omissions. — The dash is used to mark the omis- sion of letters or figures ; as, — General W n captured the Hessians at Trenton. Matt. ix. 1-6. [N. B. This is equivalent to Matt. ix. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.] Examples for Practice. 1. Almost all kinds of raw material extracted from^ the in- terior of the earth o metals o coals o precious stones o and the like o are obtained from mines differing in fertility. 2. The inferiority of French cultivation o which o taking the country as a whole o must be allowed to be real o though much exaggerated o is probably more owing to the lower aver- age of industrial skill in that coimtry o than to any special cause o 3. Each of these great and ever memorable struggles o Saxon against Norman o villein against lord o Roundhead against CavaUer o Dissenter against Churchman o Manchester against Old Sarum o was o in its own order and season o a struggle on the result of which were staked the dearest interests of the human race o 4. Time was growing to be of high worth o and o from causes which justified a good deal o though not quite all o of their delay o the English at this time were behindhand. 5. Though o as I was saying o it is only the shallow part of one's heart o I imagine that the deepest hearts have their shal- 3 34 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. lows o which can be filled by it o still it brmgs a shallow re- lief o 6. Here lies the great o False marble o where o Nothing but sordid dust lies here o 7. Greece o Carthage o Rome o where are they o 8.. " I plunged right into the debate o and " o " Did not say a word to the point o of course " o 9. The essence of all poetry may be said to consist in three things o invention o expression o inspiration o 10. " How are you o Trepid o How do you feel to-day o Mr. Trepid ?" "A great deal worse than I was c thank you o almost dead o lam obliged to you" o "Whyo Trepid o what is the matter with you " o " Nothing o I tell you o nothing in particular o but a great deal is the matter with me in general " o »o>»;o« SECTION VIII. The Parenthesis. The Marks of Parenthesis are used to inclose words which have little or no connection with the rest of the sentence. Note 1. We should distinguish between parenthesis and marks of parenthesis. The parenthesis is the sentence, or part of a sentence, that is inserted into another sentence. The marks of parenthesis are the two curved lines which inclose the words thus let in. The term marks of parenthesis, to indicate these curved lines, is preferable to parentliesis. Parenthesis means properly a parenthetical sentence, not marks of paren- tliesis. Note 2. Sometimes commas, and sometimes dashes, are used instead of the curved lines, to inclose words of a parenthetical character. It is not always easy to determine which of these marks to use ; but it may be observed, in general, that the curved lines mark the greatest separa- tion from the main sentence ; the dashes, tlie next greatest ; and the com- mas, the least separation of all. Rule. Words inserted in the body of a sentence, and nearly or quite independent of it in meaning and con- struction, should be inclosed with the marks of parenthesis. PUNCTUATION— PARENTHESIS. • 35 Note 1. A very common example of the use of marks of parenthesis is in the reports of speeches, where a person is refeiTed to but not named. In the actual delivery of the speech the person meant is sufficiently in- dicated in some way by the speaker. In print the reporter supplies the place of such indication by inserting the name of the person meant, in- closing it in marks of parenthesis. Thus : " After the very lucid expo- sition of the matter by the gentleman opposite to me (Mr. Stuart), it will not be necessary for me to say much in defence of this part of the subject." Note 2. In reporting speeches, marks of parenthesis are used to in- close exclamations of approbation or disapprobation on the part of the audience ; as, " My lords, I am amazed at his lordship's declaration (hear, hear)." Note 3. Marks .of parenthesis are used to inclose a query, or com- ment of any kind, made by the one who is reporting, copying, or quot- ing the words of another; as, "The Romans were the first (indeed?) who learned the art of navigation." In strict accuracy, the marks in these three cases (Notes 1, 2, 3) should be brackets, because the matter thus inserted is really an interpolation by the reporter. But custom has sanctioned the use of marks of parenthesis in these cases. See Section IX., Note. Note 4. In scientific works, marks of parenthesis are used to inclose figures or letters that are employed in enumerating a list of particulars ; as, " The unlawfulness of suicide appears fi-om the following considera- tions : (1.) Suicide is unlawful on account of its general consequences. (2.) Because it is the duty," etc. Note 5. If no point would be required between the parts of a sen- tence, in case there were no parenthesis there, then no points should be used at that place, in addition to the marks of parenthesis ; as, " The Egyptian style of architecture (see Dr. Pocock's work) was apparently the mother of the Greek." Note 6. If a point would be required between the parts of a sen- tence, in case no parenthesis were there, then, when the parenthesis is inserted, said point should be inserted also, and should be placed after tlie second mark of parenthesis ; as, " Pride, in some disguise or other, is the most ordinary spring of action." "Pride, in some disguise or other (often a secret to the proud man himself), is the most ordinary spring of action." Note 7. If the parenthetical part of a sentence is a question or an exclamation, the point of interrogation or exclamation should come in- side of the last mark of parenthesis, and the point belonging to the main sentence should come before the first mark of parenthesis ; as, " While the Christian desires the approbation of his fellow-men, (and why should he not desire it?) he disdains to receive their good- will by 36 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. dishonorable means." " Say not in thine heart, Who shall ascend into heaven? (that is, to bring Christ down from above); or. Who shall descend into the deep? (that is, to bring up Christ again from the dead). But what saith It?" SECTION IX. BRACKETS. Brackets are used to inclose in a sentence a word, or words, not forming part of the original composition. Note. Brackets are used to inclose a sentence, or part of a sen- tence, within the body of another sentence, and thus far are like the marks of parenthesis. But the matter included within brackets is en- tirely independent of the sentence, and so differs from what is merely parenthetical. Further, the matter within the brackets is inserted by one writer to correct or add to what has been written by another, while the parenthesis, being part of the original composition, is written by the person who wrote the rest of the sentence. Rule. In correcting or modifying the expressions of another, by inserting words of your own, the words thus inserted should he inclosed in brackets; as, — A soft answer turn [turns] away wrath. The number of our days are [is] with thee. The letter [which] you wrote me on Saturday came duly to hand. The captain had several men [who] died on the voyage. Note 1. In printing Plays, the stage directions are separated from the rest of the sentence by brackets ; and, if the stage direction occurs at the end of a line, only the first one of the brackets is used. Thus : — Ham. I am very glad to see you. [To Bernardo.] Good-even, sir. Pol. The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail. And you are stay'd for. There, — my blessing with you; [Laying his hand on Laertes's head. King. I pray you go with me. [Exeunt. Hor. Let them come in. [Exit servant. Note 2. In regard to the use of points before and after the brackets, and the punctuation of any sentence or clause within the brackets, the same rules will apply that have been given in regard to the marks of parenthesis. PUNCTUATION— QUOTATION MARKS. 37 Examples for Practice. 1. If we exercise right principles o and we cannot have them unless we exercise them o they must be perpetually on the in- crease o 2. Are you still o I fear you are o far from being comfort- ably settled o 3. She had managed this matter so well o oh o how artful a woman she was o that my father's heart was gone before I sus- pected it was in danger. 4. Know then this truth o enough for man to know o Virtue alone is happiness below o 5- Our last king o Whose image even but now appeared to us p Was o as you know o by Fortinbras of Norway o o Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride o Dar'd to the combat o in which our valiant Hamlet o For so this side of our known world esteemed him o Did slay this Fortinbras o 6. The Egyptian style of architecture o see Dr. Pocock o not his discourses o but his prints o was apparently the mother of the Greek o 7. Yet o by your gracious patience o I win a round unvarnished tale deliver Of my whole course of love o what drugs o what charms o What conjuration o and what mighty magic o For such proceeding I am charged withal o 1 won his daughter o SECTION X. Quotation Marks. A Quotation is the introduction into one's discourse of a word or of words uttered by some one else. Note. The marks of quotation are two inverted commas (") at the beginning, and two apostrophes (") at the end, of the portion quoted. Rule 1. A word or words introduced from some other author should be inclosed with quotation marks. 38 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Note 1. A writer, in quoting from himself, may use his option in regard to the use of quotation marlss. It depends upon whether he does, or does not, wish to make a reference to his previous writings. He has no such option, however, when using the words of other people. To use the words of others without acknowledging them to be such, is plagiarism, which is only another name for literary dishonesty. Note 2. Quotation marks are not proper when we state the opinion of others in language of our own ; as, Socrates said that he believed the soul to be immortal. If this expression be changed, so as to give the exact words of Socrates, then the quotation marks will be needed ; as, Socrates said, " I believe the soul to be immortal." Note 3. Short phrases from foreign languages are usually printed in italics, instead of being inclosed in quotation marks ; as, He believed in the principle of nil admirari. Titles and names of various kinds are sometimes marked in this way ; as, The Tempest is regarded by some as one of Shakespeare's earliest plays. But, in all such cases, quotation marks may be used instead of italics. Rule 2. When a quotation incloses within it another quotation, the external quotation has the double marks, and the one included has only the single marks ; as, — It has been well said, " The command, ' Thou shalt not kill,' forbids many crimes besides that of murder." Note 1. If the inclosed or secondary quotation ends the sentence, three apostrophes will there come together, of which the first will be- long to the inclosed quotation, and the other two to the original ; as. It has been well said: "What an argument for prayer is contained in the words, ' Our Father which art in heaven.' " Note 2. When an inclosed quotation itself contains words or phrases that are quoted, those words or phrases have the double marks; as, " Trench says, ' What a lesson the word " diligence " contains !' " Note 3. An interrogation or exclamation mark occurring at the close of quoted matter must be placed within the quotation marks, if it forms a part of the quotation itself (as in the example last given) ; other- wise it must stand outside. Rule 3. When several consecutive paragraphs are quot- ed, the inverted commas are placed at the beginning of each paragraph, but the apostrophes are placed only at the end of the whole quotation. . Note 1. If the several paragraphs thus quoted are not consecutive PUNCTUATION— QUOTATION MARKS. 39 in the original, but are talcen from diflferent parts of the book or essay, each paragraph should begin and end with quotation marks. Note 2. If the extract forms but one paragraph, but is made up of several detached portions taken from diflferent parts of the book or essay quoted, the fact that the extracts are not continuous may be shown, either by inserting several points (....) at each place where there is a break, or by inclosing each detached portion with quotation marks. Rule 4. An interrupted quotation is punctuated thus : " It is not," says Carlyle, " what a man outwardly has or wants that constitutes the happiness or misery of him." Examples for Practice. 1. This definition o Dr o Latham o from whom we bor- rowed it o illustrates o in his work on the o English Language o p o 359 o by the expression o a sharp-edged instrument o, which means an instrument with sharp edges. 2. The words o all-wise o, o incense-breathing o, and o book-leamed o are compounds. 3. o There is but one object o o says Augustine o o great- er than the soul o and that one is its Creator o o 4. o Let me make the ballads of a nation o o said Fletcher of Saltoun o o and I care not who makes the laws o o 5. When Fenelon's library was on fire o o God be praised o o said he o o that it is not the dwelling of a poor man o o 6. o Stop a moment here o o said Corinne to Lord Nevil o as he stood under the portico of the church o o pause before drawing aside the curtain which covers the entrance of the temple o o 7. A drunkard once reeled up to Whitefield with the remark o o Mr o Whitefield o I am one of your converts o o I think it very likely o o was the reply o o for I am sure you are none of God's o o 8. Sir Walter Scott's novel o o Guy Mannering o o is one of his best. 40 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. SECTION XI. Apostrophe, Hyphen, Caret, Etc. Note. The other marks used in composition are either so purely technical, or relate so much more to printing than to composition that the consideration of them may be despatched very briefly. 1. Tlie Apostrophe ( ' ) is a comma placed above the line. It is used chiefly to m^ark the omission of a letter or of letters ; as, O'er for over. Or, to mark the possessive ; as, William's book. 2. The Hyphen ( - ) is used to separate a compound word into its constituent parts, or to divide a word into syllables in order to show the pronunciation; as, Neo-Platonic, sap-ling. 3. The Caret { \ ), used chiefly in manuscript, shows where something has been omitted, and afterward interlined ; as, his He has just finished » letter. 4. The Paragraph ( f ), inserted in a manuscript, denotes that a paragraph should begin at that point. 5. The Brace ( j ) is used to connect several items under one head ; as, (I The Liquids are \ ™ 6. Marks of Omission are sometimes a long dash, sometimes a succession of stars, or of points ; as, He denounced C s [Congress] for its venality, and threatened to impeach W * * * [Webster] and A . . . . [Adams]. 7. The Accents are three, the acute ( ' ), the grave ( ^ ), and the circumflex (^). 8. The marks of Quantity are two, the long (-) and the short ("). Under this head is sometimes put the diseresis ( " ). 9. The Cedilla is a mark like a comma placed under the letter q. In words taken from the French it denotes that the letter has the sound of s; as, faQade [pronounced /a-sad]. 10. Marks of Reference are the asterisk or star (*), the dagger ( f ), the double dagger ( % ), the section ( § ), parallel lines ( II ), the paragraph ( If ). 11. Italics are letters inclined to the right. They are so called because type of this kind was first used by Italian printers. PUNCTUATION— CAPITALS. 41 Note 1. In manuscript, one line drawn under a word sliows that it should be printed in italics; two lines, that it should be printed in small CAPITALS ; and three lines, that it should be printed in CAPITALS. Or- dinary letters are called Roman, in distinction from Itaho. Note 2. Some writers use Italics to mark emphatic words. This is a weak device, if used to excess. Note 3. In the English Bible, words are printed in italics to show that they are not in the original, but are supplied by the translators to complete the meaning. oXXo SECTION XII. Capitals. Rule 1. The First "Word in Writing of any Kind should begin with a capital. Rule 2. The First Word after a Period, except when the period is a mere sign of abbreviation, should begin with a capital. Also the first word after a mark of in- terrogation should begin with a capital, when the inter- rogation is equivalent, as it usually is, to a period. Rule 3. Numbered Clauses. — Clauses, when separately numbered, should begin with a capital, though not sepa- rated from each other by a full-point; as, — This writer asserts, 1. That Nature is unlimited in her operations ; 2. That she has inexhaustible treasures in reserve ; 3. That knowledge will always be progressive, and, 4. That all future generations will continue to make discoveries. Rule 4. First Word of an Example. — The first word of a sentence or clause which is given as an example should begin with a capital ; as, " Temperance promotes health." Note. If the example is not a sentence or a clause, but only a single word, or a series of words, as, temperance, fortitude, honesty, prudence, etc., no capital is needed. Rule 5. Titles. — In quoting the title of a book, every. 42 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. noun, pronoun, adjective, and adverb should begin with a capital ; as, " Sparks's Life of Washington." Rule 6. First Word of a Direct Question. — The first word of a direct question should begin with a capital; as, — (Direct Question). His words are, "Why do you not study the lesson ?" (Indirect Question). He desires to know why you do not study the lesson. Rule 7. First Word of a Direct Quotation. — The first word of a direct quotation should begin with a capital; as, — (Direct Quotation). Plutarch says, " Lying is the vice of slaves." (Indirect Quotation). Plutarch says that lying is the vice of slaves. Rule 8. Capitals Used for Figures. — Numbers are sometimes represented by capital letters; as, I, II, III, IV, etc. Note. In referring to passages in books, it is very common to num- ber the chapter, book, sections, etc., in this way, and to begin with a capital each name of the division mentioned; as, "Mill's Political Economy, Vol. I, Book III, Chap. IV, Sec. VI, p. 573." If the refer- ences are numerous, this method is found to be cumbersome and un- sightly, and small letters are preferred ; as, " Mill's Political Economy, vol. i, book iii, chap, iv, sec. vi, p. 573." Rule 9. The pronoun I, and the interjection 0, are always capital letters. Rule 10. Poetry. — The first word of every line of poetry begins with a capital. Rule 11. Names of God. — All names and titles of God begin with a capital; as, Jehovah, Father, Creator, Almighty, etc. Note 1. When a name usually applied to the Supreme Being is given to an inferior being, it does not begin with a capital ; as, " The Lord is a great God above all gods." " Lord of lords, King of kings." Note 2. Providence is sometimes used to mean God, that is, the One who provides for us; Heaven likewise is used to mean the One who PUNCTUATION— CAPITALS. 43 reigns in heaven. In such cases the word should begin with a capital. But if only God's providential care is meant, or his place of abode, a capital is not needed. Note 3. The adjectives eternal, universal, heavenly, divine, etc., when applied to God, need not begin with a capital, unless something in tlie particular instance makes them emphatic. Custom, however, has made capitals necessary in the following instances: Almighty God, Infinite One, Supreme Being, First Cause. Note 4. Wlien an attribute of God is expressed, not by an adjective, as in the instances above, but by a noun dependent upon another noun, as " Father of mercies " for " Merciful Father," the dependent noun in such combinations does not require a capital. Note 5. " Son of God," as applied to our Saviour, requires that both nouns should begin with a capital ; " Son of man " requires no capital for the latter noun. Note 6. Great diversity prevails in regard to the pronouns, when referring to God. Some authors, in printing a hymn or a prayer, use a capital with every pronoun referring to God in any manner. This is not in good taste, nor is it in accordance with the best usage. In the standard editions of the English Bible, the pronouns, when referring to God, are never printed in this way, not even in forms of direct address to the Deity ; as, " But thou, Lord, be merciful unto me," etc. Rule 12. Proper Names. — All proper names begin with capitals ; as, Jupiter, Mohammed, Brahma, Pompey, Lake Erie, Monday, Good Friday, Rome, China, Prance. Note 1. The word (fet)S,-when used to designate Satan, should begin with a capital; in all other cases, with a small letter; as, "The Devil and his angels." "The devils also believe and tremble." Note 2. The same persons who capitalize the first letter of the pro- nouns when referring to God, capitalize the first letter of heaven and hell when referring to the abodes of the blessed and of the lost. But such is not the usage in the Bible, which is the most carefully printed book in the language. "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there." Note 3. North, South, East, and West, when used to denote certain parts of the country or of the world, should begin with a capital ; as, " This man evidently is a native of the West." But when they denote merely geographical direction, they should begin with a small letter ; as, " Ohio lies west of the Alleghanies." Note 4. When a, name is compounded of a proper name and of some other word which is not a proper name, connected by a hyphen, the part which is not a proper name begins with a capital, if it precedes 44 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. the hyphen, but with a small letter, if it follows the hyphen ; as, Pre- Adamite, New-England, Sunday-school. EuLE 13. "Words Derived from Proper Names. — Words derived from proper names should begin with a capital; as, Mohammedan, Brahmanic, Christian, Roman ; French, Spanish, Grecian ; to Christianize, to Judaize, to Romanize, etc. Note 1. The names of religious sects, whether derived from proper names or otherwise, begin with a capital ; as, Christians, Pagans, Jews, Gentiles, Lutherans, Calvinists, Protestants, Catholics, etc. The names of political parties likewise begin with capitals ; as. Democrats, Repub- licans, Radicals, Conservatives, etc. Note 2. Some words, derived originally from proper names, have by long and familiar usage lost all reference to their origin, and are printed like ordinary words, without capitals ; as, simony, damask, china (in the sense of crockery), godlike, philippic, to hector, to galvanize, to japan, etc. Rule 14. Titles of Honor and OflSce. — Titles of honor and office should begin with a capital ; as, The President of the United States, His Honor the Mayor of Philadel- phia, President Madison, Queen Victoria, Sir Robert Murchison, Your Royal Highness, etc. Note. When father, mother, irother, sister, uncle, aunt, etc., immedi- ately precede a proper name, some writers begin with a capital; as, Aunt Margaret, Brother John, etc. In the family circle. Father and Mother often become proper nouns, when, of course, they take the capital. The term father, when used to denote one of the early Chris- tian writers, is always printed with a capital; as, "Chrysostom and Augustine are among the most voluminous of the Fathers." Rule 15. Subjects First Introduced. — In works of a scientific character, when the subject of a particular sec- tion is defined, or is first introduced, it is capitalized ; as, " A Pronoun is a word used instead of a noun." Rule 16. The Bible.— A capital is always used for the terms ordinarily employed to designate the Bible, or any particular part or book of the Bible; as. The Holy Bible, the Sacred Writings, the Old Testament, the Gospel of Matthew, the Acts of the Apostles, the Epistle to the PUNCTUATION— CAPITALS. 45 Ephesians, the Revelation, the Psalms, etc. In like manner the names of other sacred writings are capi- tahzed, as the Koran, the Zend Avesta, the Vedas, etc. Rule 17. Words of Special Importance. — Words used as technical names for the great events of history, or for extraordinary phenomena of a highly distinctive cha- racter, begin with a capital; as, the Reformation, the Revolution, the War of Independence, the Middle Ages, Magna Charta, the Gulf Stream, etc. Rule 18. Personification. — In cases of strongly marked personification, the noun personified is sometimes capi- talized; as, — " Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell." Note. This rule, like that in regard to words of special importance, requires discretion on the part of the writer. Young and inexperienced writers are prone to apply it too frequently. Miscellaneous Examples for Practice. [Punctuate the following sentences, and make the necessary correc- tions in regard to capitals, giving your reasons for each alteration.] 1. Charles notwithstanding the delay had left england to work his way as best he might out of his Difficulties 2. the scots therefore at the break of day entered the Castle 3. Fashion is for the most part the ostentation of Riches 4. besides if you labor in moderation it will conduce to Health as well as to Wealth 5. Sir Peter Carew for some unknown reason had written to ask for his pardon 6. The Man when He saw this departed 7. the crowd as Throgmorton left the court threw up their caps 8. Elizabeth who had been requested to attend was not present 9. The frost had set in the low damp ground was hard the Dykes were frozen 10. a brown curling beard flowed down upon his chest 11. she thought the isle that gave her birth the sweetest mildest land on earth 46 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 12. The first Seven carried maces swords or pole-axes 13. Who to the enraptured heart and ear and eye Teach beauty virtue truth and love and melody 14. Give me a sanctified and just a charitable and humble a religious and contented spirit 15. Now a man now a seraph and now a beast 16. the dragon stands the hieroglyph of evil and gnaws at the tree of life 17. The ocelot a beautiful and striped fiend hisses like a snake 18. He that calls upon thee is Theodore the hermit of Tene- riflfe 19. Hate madness ruled the hour 20. We saw a large opening or inlet 21. Well Sir Nicholas what news 22. Zaccheus make haste and come down 23. Thus preciously freighted the Spanish fleet sailed from Corunna 24. Cruel and savage as the persecution had become it was still inadequate 25. Faith is opposed to infidelity hope to despair charity to enmity and hostility 26. Kant said give me matter and I will build the world 27. In this way we learned that miss Steele never succeeded in catching the doctor that Kitty Bennett was satisfactorily mar- ried by a clergyman near Pemberton that the "considerable sum " given by Mrs. Norris to William Price was one pound and that the letters placed by Churchill before Jane Fairfax which she swept away unread contained the word pardon 28. The daring youth explained everything he presented philosophy in a familiar form he brought it home to men's bosoms he made all smooth and easy 29. Make hay while the sun shines for clouds will surely come 30. there are four moods the indicative the subjunctive the imperative and the infinitive 31. Princes have courtiers and merchants have partners the voluptuous have companions and the vncked have accomplices none but the virtuous have friends 32. in his last Moments He uttered these words i fall a sacri- fice to sloth and luxury 33. John Tillotson Archbishop of Canterbury obtained great PUNCTUATION— CAPITALS. 47 celebrity as a preacher his sermons at his death were purchased for two thousand five hundred guineas they continue to the present time to be read and to be held in high estimation as in- structive rational and impressive discourses 34. Sir Koger L'Estrange enjoyed in the reigns of Charles II and James VII great notoriety as an occasional political writer he is known also as a translator having produced versions of .(Esop's Fables Seneca's Morals Cicero's offices Erasmus's Col- loquies Quevedo's Visions and the works of Josephus 35. Another lively describer of human character who flour- ished in this period was Dr Walter Charleton physician to Charles II a friend of Hobbes and for several years president of the college of physicians in London 36. Bacon Francis usually known as Lord bacon was born in London England Jan 22 1660 and died 1626 he was famous as a scholar a wit a lawyer a judge a statesman and a politician 37. Early one morning they came to the estate of a wealthy farmer they found him standing before the stable and heard as they drew near that he was scolding one of his men because he had left the ropes with which they tied their horses in the rain all night instead of putting them a^ay in a dry place ah we shall get very little here said one to the other that man is very close we will at least try said another and they approached 38. The clear conception outrunning the deductions of logic the high purpose the firm resolve the dauntless spirit speaking in the tongue beaming from the eye informing every feature and urging the whole man onward right onward to his object this this is eloquence or rather it is something greater and higher than all eloquence it is action noble sublime godlike action CHAPTER II. DICTION. Diction is that part of Rhetoric which treats of the se- lection and the right use of words. Command of Words Important. — No one can be success- ful as a writer or a speaker, who has not a great number of words at his command, and who has not such a knowledge of the precise meaning of each as to be able in all cases to select just that word which expresses most perfectly the idea in- tended. Hew Obtained. — It is not in the power of rules to give one a command of words. To this end, two things chiefly are neces- sary : a wide course of reading, and a habit of observation in regard to the words met with. Linguistic studies are particu- larly suited to enlarge one's vocabulary. Habitual association with persons of education and refinement has likewise a tend- ency to increase one's stock, of words. Some persons have by nature a special talent for this species of acquisition, and words on almost every subject seem to come at their bidding. Such a talent, whether natural or acquired, is of the greatest im- portance. Translation. — One method, strongly recommended for ac- quiring a ready and sure command of words, is the practice of translation from literary models in a foreign language. Persons who are accustomed to express only their own thoughts, form for themselves unconsciously a comparatively narrow vocabu- lary. The practice of written translation forces the student into new trains of thought, demanding new words and forms of expression, and thus enlarges continually his vocabulary, 48 DICTION— PURITY. 49 and lifts him out of his rut of pet words and stereotyped phrases. Habit of Referring to the Dictionary. — For acquiring this habit, much may be done by judicious training, both at home and at school. The student should be sent to the dictionary on all occasions, and in every exercise where a question can arise as to the meaning of a word, until the habit is fully established in him of closely scrutinizing every word whose meaning is not perfectly familiar. Study of Etymology. — A proper study of the origin and formation of words, with suitable exercises for practice in com- bining them, conduces to the same end; for this purpose, a good manual of instruction in the derivation and meaning of words is an indispensable requisite of the school-room. Divisions of the Subject. — The leading qualities of Style comprised under Diction are Purity, Propriety, and Precision. I. PURITY. Diction, -^hen Pure. — An author's diction is pure when he uses such words only as belong to the idiom of the language, in opposition to words that axe foreign, obsolete, newly coined, or without proper mithority. Standard of Purity. — The only standard of purity is the practice of the best writers and speakers. A violation of purity is called a Barbarism. 1. Foreign "Words. Pedantry and Affectation. — It savors of pedantry and affectation to introduce unnecessarily into discourse words from foreign languages, from the French, the Latin, and so forth. This fault is most common with persons whose attain- ments are comparatively limited, and who are ambitious of showing off what little learning they have. Ripe scholars, whose knowledge of languages is extensive and profound, are less apt to interlard their discourse with foreign terms. Foreign Words Domesticated. — Sometimes, however, a foreign word is adopted, unchanged from its original form, as an English word; as, the^Mt^ of the Almighty, the shibboleth of 4 E 50 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. party, the palladium of liberty, an ignis fatum, an ignoramus, a cabal, a quorum,, an omnibus, an incognito, an anathema, an iiem, a paradise. In such cases, when the foreign word is one whose meaning has become famiUar to ordinary readers, — when, in fact, it expresses that meaning more precisely that any native equivalent could do, — there may be more pedantry in attempt- ing to translate it than in leaving it in its familiar form. 2. Obsolete "Words— New "Words. No Absolute Standard. — A word is not necessarily to be rejected because it is new. New words are continually coming into use. This is the general law of all languages. As long as they are living languages, they are subject to perpetual change, old words dropping out and new ones coming in. No absolute rule can be given for determining when an old word has become so far obsolete as to make it unsafe any longer to use it, or when a new word has sufficient sanction from writers and speakers to give it a claim to be considered good English. A few examples will illustrate this. Throughly, formed legitimately from the preposition through, was staple English in the time of Spenser. It is now obsolete, except for the purpose of quaintness or drollery. Outsider. — No one now would hesitate to use the word outsider. Yet prior to the convention which in 1844 nominated Mr. Polk for the Presidency, the word had no better claim to being English than irmder, undersider, uppersider, rightsider, leftsider, etc. At that convention, ac- cording to Prof. Marsh, when an undue pressure upon the delegates was made by those from without who were not delegates, some cue, with a happy audacity of language, described it as a pressure from the " out- siders ;" and this term, caught up by the reporters, so suited tlie con- venience of the public that it went at once into general circulation and has since fairly established itself as a constituent part of the language. Intensity . — It is somewhat startling to be told that the word "In- tensify " is not yet a century old. Coleridge, in his Biographia Lite- raria, tells us that he deliberately coined the word, because there was no other in existence to express a particular shade of meaning which he wished to convey. Starvation was first used by Henry Dundas in 1775, in a speech in Parliament, which obtained for him the name of Starvation Dundas. It was supposed to be the only instance of a noun formed by adding the Latin ending -ation to the Anglo-Saxon root, but flirtation is probably a similar example. DICTION— PURITY. 51 Sculptor, petmisula, suicide, opera, and umbrella were unknown to the English tongue until the middle of the seventeenth century. Bentley in the last century had to defend himself for using such novelties as repudiate, concede, vernacular, timid, and idiom. Campbell, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, first published in 1776, marks the following words as so far obsolete as not to be allowable in ordinary prose : tribulation, behest, ignore, adroitness, and he hesitates about the following words because of their newness : continetital, sentimental, urigiiiality, criminality, capability, originate. Suspended Animation of Words.— Words frequently pass out of use for a time, and are then restored ; this suspended animation of a word is one of the most curious phenomena in the history of language. Thus the word reckless was in current use until after the beginning of the sixteenth century. It then became so nearly obsolete that Hooker, who used it in 1650, felt obliged to explain it in a marginal note. It has since been revived, and is now thoroughly familiar to every English- speaking person. Abate and abandon, which, after an active existence of some centuries, fell into disuse in the seventeenth century, and were so marked in the dictionaries, are now again current English. Kind of New Words to be Avoided. — A writer who is careful of the purity of his diction will avoid any new word, no matter how distinguished the author by whom it has been introduced, if it is formed in a manner contrary to the genius of the language. Law of Verbal Formation. — One of the laws of verbal formation is that the component parts of a word should be of similar linguistic origin. This rule is violated when a word is made up of two parts, one of which is Anglo-Saxon, the other Greek or Latin. For example ; the termination -Uy, which is of Latin origin, corresponds in meaning to the termination -ness, which is Anglo-Saxon. The Latin ending, therefore, is used in making Words from Latin stems, as cavity from ca'w-us, unity from un-us, purity from pur-us, brevity from brev-is, acidity from addrua. In like manner, the native ending is used in making words from native stems, as hollow-mess from hollow, one-wess from one, same-m€ss from same, sour-mess from sour. Thus also telegraph, telegraphic, telegram are legitimate forma- tions, the various component parts tele-, -graph, -gram, and -ic be- ing Greek. But cable-graph and cable-gram are barbarisms, the 52 COMPOSITION AND BHETORtO. first part of the compound being from one language, the latter part from another. Some years ago there was a craze for nouns in 4st, to designate the doer of an act. The termination is proper in Greco-Latin and French formations, as thaumatwgist, chemist, druggist, but is wholly improper in native words, the proper termination of which is -er. Yet, although the language had already an amply supply of -er nouns, the craze did not stop until it had produced the monstrosities walkist, talhist, fightist, skatiM. La-w of Formation not Universal. — The rule given above, in regard to the formation of words, is, however, far from being universal. Thus appositeness is a good word, although formed with an Anglo-Saxon ending upon a Latin stem. Both Modes of Formation on the Same Stem. — In many cases the same stem gives two words of like meaning, one with a native, the other with a foreign ending, as purity pureness, credibility credibleness. In such cases, the one formed regularly, that is, with stem and ending both from the same source, is generally a better word than the other ; in tlie , last instance given, credibility is better than credibleness. Safety in Regard to New Words. — It is prudent to be slow in using new words. A writer has before him, for his selection, such an abundance of words about which there is no question, that the case rarely occurs in which the use of a doubtful word is necessary. We may, indeed, have occasion to speak of a new invention for which there is no word but that originating with the invention itself. In such a case, of course, we need not hesitate to use the new word. But in all ordinary cases, the safest plan for a writer or a speaker is to select only well-known and fully accredited words, in preference either to those which have become partially obsolete and uncurrent, or to those which by reason of the freshness of their coinage are still of doubtful currency. Pope's Rule. — The rule is well stated by Pope, in his Essay on Criticism : In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold ; Alike fantastic, if too new or old ; Be not the first by whom the new are tried. Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.' ' The student should commit these lines thoroughly to memory. DICTION— PURITY. 53 Standard of Usage. — The use which determines au- thoritatively whether a word is legitimate must have these three marks : 1. It must be Reputable, or that of educated people, in distinction from the ignorant and vulgar. 2. It must be National, as opposed to what is either local or technical. 3. It must be Present, as opposed to what is obsolete. To determine whether a word is legitimate, we must ascer- tain that it is in use among writers of good reputation. Usually wc consult a Dictionary, since it is the duty of a lexicographer to ascertain all such facts by research, and to mark them in his work. In the best dictionaries every word admitted to a place is assumed to be legitimate, unless the lexicographer distinctly marks it as obsolete, vulgar, provincial, technical, etc.; and, in very many cases, passages from authors of reputation are quoted, to show how the word is used. Note. The study of Diction is a necessary incident of everj'^ other study. "We cannot learn any branch of knowledge without becoming familiar with the words in which that knowledge is conveyed. Still some special study of the subject is desirable ; and, to facilitate such a study, the following Exercises have been prepared. The words given below are arranged in lists of ten for mere convenience. They are selected with regard to the question of Purity, under some one or more of the heads now considered, namely, foreign, obsolete, newly coined, withmd proper auihority. To test the better the student's knowledge, and to exercise his judgment, the words are put together promiscu- ously, and some of them are entirely legitimate. The student wiU need, of course, a good Dictionary for preparing himself on these exercises.' The points to be considered in regard to a word are the following : 1. Is it a foreign word ? If so, has it been thoroughly domesticated as good English? or would its use savor of pedantry? 2. Is it a word which was once in use, but is now obsolete f What was its meaning when it was used? 3. Is it a new word ? If so, has it been in use long enough to become legitimate? or would its use be considered questionable? 1 The best dictionary within the means of the ordinary school is the new International Webster. 54 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 4. Is there any irregularity in the formation of the word ? — if so, is the irregularity suflScient to condemn it ? 5. Is the word vulgar, technical, promncial, or in any way unsuited for common use? 6. In every case, give the meaning and the etymology of the word, and the authority on which it is pronounced legitimate or otherwise. 7. Whenever possible, quote Extracts from known authors in illus- tration of the opinion pronounced. Exercises on Purity of Diction. 1. Cisatlantic, alamode, waitress, exit, plebiscitum, depot, role, ultimatum, mulierosity, aborigines. 2. Gallantness, obloquy, incertain, talkist, resurrected, pericu- lous, moonrise, docible, cockney, alibi. 3. Jeopardize, preventative, orate, memento, n6e, herbarium, soundness, currentness, boyish, locate. 4. Confutement, civilist, expenseless, peristyle, opaque, popu- losity, soup5on, finale, blas6, alias. 5. Controversialist, kraal, lapidary, leniency, distingu^, feuille- ton, prot^g6, verbatim, rendezvous, surtout. 6. Imprimatur, sangfroid, upholstery, traducement, walkist, profaneness, atelier, enthused, thirster, optigraph. 7. Septemfluous, spendthrift, confutant, caviare, underlauded, saleslady, amende, employe, equidistant, terra cotta. 8. Impromptu, pot-pourri, efflorescence, fabulosity, rootfast- ness, obediential, elocutist, disillusioned, rampage, bookish. 9. Ungallantry, discursiveness, optable, amour propre, resi- duum, parvenu, vesper, rebus, acrobat, fauteuil. 10. Soidisant, rotatory, mandamus, nom de plume, siesta, curiousness, fashionist, skedaddle, bootless, oppressure. 11. Misaflfected, insulse, exorableness, verily, spirituel, casual- ity, matin, patois, elegy, instanter. 12. Affidavit, conversationist, donate, dilettante, on dit, junta, persiflage, tapis, circumambient, debatement. 13. Disobedientness, optation, chef-d'oeuvre, fete, plateau, occi- dental, avoidance, admonishment, mulish, misdevotion. II. PROPRIETY. Difference between Purity and Propriety of Diction. —Purity of diction relates merely to the question whether a word is, or is not, in good and current use, as an estab- DICTION—PROPRIETY. 55 lished part of the language. But another question arises in regard to every word used in discourse. Is the word used properly in the sentence in which it occurs ? The word may be a perfectly good word in itself, and yet may fail to express the meaning which the writer evidently intended to express. Means of Attaining Propriety. — To attain propriety of diction, the chief means are a frequent use of the Dictionary, and a constant observation of the way in which words are used in good authors. Violation of Propriety. — This may be best illustrated by quoting a few instances of words used improperly. Predicate. — A leading editorial of one of the New York dally news- papers contained this sentence : " It is impossible at the present moment Ui predicate what wUl be the issue of the pending contest." The writer should have written predict ■ for predicate is used merely to aflSrm in re- gard to what is already existing. Mutual is frequently used improperly in the sense of common. "Mu- tual" always implies reciprocity. It describes that which passes from each to each of two persons. Rom. i. 12, " That I may be comforted by the mutual faith of both you and me,"' that is, " by my confidence in you and your confidence in me." Here the word is used with entire correctness. In like manner we may say " the mutual love of man and wife." But it is wrong to say that John and James have a mutual friend Peter ; Peter is their common firiend. When Dickens published his well- known story, "Our Mutual Friend," the title was sharply criticized for its impropriety. Except, at one time used for unless, is now improperly so employed. To say "They all refused to come except Mary and Alice would" is using the word as a conjunction. The proper word in such cases is unless. WitJumt is likewise improperly used for unless. " I will not go to the city without [unless] you do." Like. — Another word often used incorrectly is like. The word is cor- rect whenever it would be proper to supply "to" after it: as, "The daughter is like [to] her mother." " He fought like [to] a lion." But many careless speakers and writers use it for as, or as if . "I wish I could write like [as] you do." " He behaved like [as if] he was mad." Avocation is used incorrectly for vocation. " Vocation " is one's busi- ness, occupation, or calling. " Avocation " meant originally the act of calling aside, or diverting from one's employment, as " Blessed impulses 56 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. to duty, and powerful avocations /rom sin." This use of the word, how- ever, is now nearly if not quite obsolete, and the secondary meaning, namely, "the business which calls aside," is pretty well established. Even in this sense, however, it means the smaller affairs of life, or those occasional calls which summon a man to leave for a time his ordinary business, or " vocation." Contemptible. — It is not uncommon to hear persons say, " I have a contemptible opinion of the man," when they really mean to say that the man is contemptible [in their opinion]. The familiar anecdote of Doctor Porsou furnishes a good illustration both of the incorrect and the correct use of this word. Some one having said to the Doctor, "My opinion of you is most contemptible," Porson replied, " I never knew an opinion of yours that was not contemptible." Respectively. — Many letters which pass through the Post-Office end with "Yours respectively," instead of "Youis respectfully.'' Construe and Construct. — Occasionally construe and construct are con- founded by writers of some standing. We construct a sentence when we form or make one. We construe it when we explain its construction. A boy construes a Latin sentence when he translates it into English and explains its grammatical structure. He constructs a Latin sentence when he translates an English one into correct Latin. Writers con- struct; readers construe. Replace. — Some ambiguity has arisen of late in regard to the proper use of the word replace. According to its etymology, and, until lately, according to its uniform use, "replace" meant to put one back into a place which he formerly occupied. It now currently means to put into a place vacated by some one else. "After the expiration of his first term, General Washington was replaced in the Presidential chair." This meant in that day that Washington filled the office a second time. " In the summer of 1867, Stanton was replaced in the War Office by Grant." This now means that Grant was put into the place which Stanton had vacated. This latter use of the word is derived from a French expres- sion signifying " to take the place of," and has perhaps already acquired so much authority in its favor as to be considered good English. Got. — There is perhaps no one word so variously misused as "got." It would seem almost as if there were no event in history, no fact in science, which might not be expressed by this convenient drudge. The following is taken from an English publication : " I got on horseback within ten minutes after I got your letter. When I got to Canterbury, I got a chaise for town ; but I got wet through before I got to Canterbury ; and I have got such a cold as I shall not be able to get rid of in a hurry. I got to the Treasury about noon, but first of all I got shaved and dressed," etc. DICTION— PROPRIETY. 57 Exercises on Propriety of Diction. Note. Each of the sentences given below contains some word which, though in itself good English, is used improperly here. The student is expected to point out the word thus used, show wherein the impropriety consists, and make the necessary correction. 1. Directly I found the house inhabited, I began to be sorry that it was not as empty as the library and the street. 2. I want a position as a teacher, and I will be greatly obliged to you for a recommend. 3. The girl aggravates me very much by her obstinacy and her impudence. 4. The President intends to evacuate the very day that Con- gress adjourns. 5. He was unwilling to demean himself by making a public apology. 6. Neither of the twelve jurors could be induced to believe the man guUty. 7. In travelling by railroad, you have to settle for your ticket in advance. 8. Do not forget to send me an invite to your wedding. 9. His style of living corresponded with his means. 10. While spending the summer in Utah he enjoyed excep- tionable opportunities for observing the peculiarities of the Mormon religion. 11. Experience has proved that England lies formidably open to attack. 12. The troops, though fighting bravely, were terribly deci- mated, nearly half of them having fallen. 13. The cars have as good a right to be stopped as the car- riage has. 14. No doubt the men have some good points about them. 15. The letter was very plainly directed, and I think it will be apt to come. 16. Many years have now transpired since the Mexican war. 17. There is not much fruit in the section of the State here- abouts. 18. I have every confidence that the ship will arrive in time. 19. Every human being has this in common. 20. At the noise of fire-engines, some rude fellows rushed out 58 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. into the streets, but the balance of the congregation kept their seats. 21. I expect you had a hard time of it yesterday. 22. The platform adopted by the party was calculated to do the candidate great harm. 23. This apphcation of reason, so continually, consistently, and generally exercised, predicates a great national future. m. PRECISION. Precision is the third quality at which a writer or a speaker should aim in the selection of his words. Meaning of Precision. — The etymology of this term {pra^ (Mere, to cut off) shows how it is used. We should, if possible, find words which cut off all extraneous ideas, — ^which express just what is meant, nothing more and nothing less. Examples of Words not used Precisely. — If, to express the idea of pouring water from a pot, we speak of " turning it out," the latter word, in addition to the idea of pouring, implies also the act of turning the pot, in order to pour. Taming, therefore, in this phrase is not used precisely. " Notwithstanduig the entreaties of the prisoner, the judge was inflexir- ble." A man is inflexible who is incapable of being turned aside by any motive, — ^by bribery, intimidation, entreaty, force, etc. As a specific motive is here mentioned, that of entreaty, a more precise writer would have used the word inexorable, which means specifically one who cannot be moved by entreaty. "Attitude of devotion " is a more precise expression than "posture of devotion," because "posture" signifies any position of the body, while " attitude" refers to such a position of the body as is adapted to express some feeling or purpose. The Study of Synonyms. — One who wishes to use words with precision should study carefully the subject of Synonyms. Few words in any language are exactly synonymous. Many which at first sight appear to be so are found on examination to have shades of difference, and it is by noticing these slight differences that we learn to use words with precision. Character of the English Language in Regard to Syn- onyms.— The English, more than almost any other language, has words that are truly synonymous, and this by reason of its composite character. For the same idea we have, in very many DICTION— PRECISION. 59 instances, one word from the Anglo-Saxon, another from the Latin or from the Greek ; as, daily and dianial, weekly and lieb- doinadal, happiness and felicity, everlasting and sempiternal, fatherly and paternal, nightly and nocturnal, powerful and potential. A Caution. — Even here, however, care must be taken. Optician, from the Greek, means a maker of instruments for the eye ; Oculist, from the Latin, means one who performs operations upon the eye itself; and Eye-doctor, from the mother-tongue, means a quack wlio lias some nostrum for curing sore eyes. Motherly may perhaps be the exact logical equivalent for maternal, but it suggests a good deal more to a loving heart away from the endearments of home. Books on the Subject. — Crabbe's Dictionary of Synonyms is a useftil work. Another excellent work is Roget's Thesaurus of English Words. The matter is also carefully treated in the new International Webster and in the Century Dictionary, where under many of the leading words the various other words which are nearly synonymous are given, and the differences explained. The subject is also discussed briefly, but in a judicious manner, by Blair in his Lectures on Rhetoric. A few examples, taken chiefly from these sources are here given, with some alterations to suit the purposes of the present work. A difficulty, an olistacle. — A difficulty embarrasses, an obstacle stops us. We remove the one, we surmount the other. Generally, the first expresses something arising from the nature and circumstances of the affair; the second, something arising from a foreign cause. Philip found difficulty in managing the Athenians from the nature of their dispositions ; but the eloquence of Demosthenes was the greatest obstacle to his designs. Opportunity, occasion. — An occasion is that which falls in our way, or presents itself in the course of events ; an opportunity is a convenience or fitness of time and place for the doing of a thing. Hence opportunities often spring out of occasions. We may have occasion to meet a person frequently without getting an opportunity to converse with him on a particular subject about which we are anxious. We act as occasion may require ; we embrace an opportunity. Malevolence, malice, malignity.— There is the same difference be- tween malevolence and malice as between wishes and intentions. A malevo- lent man wishes ill to others, a malicious man is bent on doing evil to them. Malignity goes even further ; it not only is bent on doing evil, but loves it for its own sake. One who is malignant must be both malevolent and Tnalieiims; but a man may be malicious without being malignant. Welglit, bea,YiaeaB.— Weight is indefinite ; whatever may be weighed 60 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIO. has weight, whether large or small. Heaviness is the property of certain bodies having an unusual degree of weight. Weight lies absolutely in the thing, every body has weight ; heaviness refers to an opinion which a person may have in regard to that thing as being the opposite of light. We estimate the weight of things by a certain fixed measure ; we estimate the heaviness of things by our muscular sensation in lifting them. A man of weight is a man whose opinions are influential ; a heavy man is one who is tiresome. Pale, pallid, wan. — Tlie absence of color in any degree, where color is a usual quality, constitutes paleness ; pallidness is an excess of paleness, and wanness is an unusual degree of pallidness. Fear, or any sudden emotion, may produce paleness ; protracted sickness, hunger, and fatigue bring on pallidness; and when these calamities are greatly heightened and aggravated, they produce wanness. Pale is applicable to a great variety of objects, as, a pale face, a pale sky, a pale green, a pale rose, and and it may be either natural or acquired, desirable or undesirable. Pallid is applicable to the human face only, and never to that except as im- plying disease or something out of the course of nature. Wan is ap- plicable to a face having such a degree of pallor as to be ghastly. Avow, acknowledge, confess. — Each of these words imports the af- firmation of a fact, but in very different circumstances. To avow a thing, supposes a person to glory in it ; to acknowledge, supposes a small degree of faultiness, which the acknowledgment compensates ; to confess, sup- poses a higher degree of guilt. An independent legislator avows his opposition to some measure of the executive, and is applauded; a, gen- tleman acknowledges his mistake, and is forgiven ; a prisoner confesses the crime with which he is charged, and is punished. Lucid, luminous. — A thing is ludd, when it is pervaded with light; it is luminous, when it sends forth light to other bodies. A stream may be lucid; the stars are luminous. An argument is lucid, when the rea- soning is perfectly clear to the apprehension ; it is luminous, when the author not only makes his meaning clear, but pours a flood of light upon the subject. Only, alone. — On?y imports that there is no other of the same kind; nlone imports being accompanied by no other. An only child is one who has neither brother nor sister ; a child alone is one that is left by itself " Only virtue makes us happy " means that nothing else can do it. "Virtue alone makes us happy" means that virtue by itself, and unaccompanied with other advantages, is sufiflcient to do it. Kill, murder, assassinate. — To kill means simply to deprive of life. A man may kill another by accident, or in self-defence. To murder is to kill with malicious forethought and intention. To assassinate is to murder suddenly and by stealth. The sheriff may kill without mur- DICTION— PRECISION. 61 dering: the duelist murders, but does not assassinate; the assassin both kUU and murders in the meanest and most ignoble manner. Discover, invent. — We discover what existed before, but was un- known ; we invent what is new. Columbus discmered America, Whit- ney invented the cotton-gin. In earlier English to discmier meant also to manifest or to evince. In this sense it is found in as recent an author as Washington Irving. Eingl7, regal, royal. — Kingly, which is Anglo-Saxon, refers especially to the character of a king ; regal, which is Latin, refers more to the office. The former is chiefly used of dispositions, feelings, purposes, and the like ; the latter is applied more to external state. We speak of kingly deeds, kingly sentiments, " a kingly heart for enterprises " (Sidney), but of the regal title, regal pomp. Royal, which comes from regal through the French, has a meaning more akin to kingly. Wbole, entire, total, complete. — Whole refers to a thing as made up of parts none of wliich are wanting ; a whole book is a book from which no leaves are missing. Total has reference to all the items taken together and forming a single sum or totality ; as, the total amount, the sum total. Entire has no reference to parts at all, but considers a thing as being unbroken or continuous; as, the entire summer. Complete implies previous progress ending in the perfect filling out of some plan or purpose ; as, a complete victory. Contagion, infection. — Both words imply the communication of some- thing bad. In the case of contagion, this is done by outward contact or touch ; in the case of infection, by invisible influences working in- wardly. The plague and smallpox are contagious, various forms of fever are infectious. Bad manners are contagious ; bad principles, infectious. Explicit, express. — Both words convey the idea of clearness in a state- ment, but the latter is the stronger word of the two. Explicit denotes something set forth so plainly that it cannot well be misunderstood. Express adds a certain degree of force to this clearness. An express promise is not only one in clear, unambiguous words, but one standing out in bold relief, with a binding hold on the conscience. We speak of an explicit statement, but of an express command. Excite, incite. — To excite is to awaken or arouse feelings that were dormant or calm. To incite is to urge forward into acts correspondent to the feelings which have been awakened. With, by. — Both words imply a connection between some instrument or means, and the agent by whom it is used ; but with signifies a more close and immediate connection, 61/ a more remote one. An ancient king of Scotland interrogated his nobles as to the tenure by which they held their lands. The chiefs, starting up, drew their swords, saying, " By these [the remote means] we acquired our lands, and with these S 62 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIO. [the immediate instrument] we will defend them." We kill a man with a sword ; he dies by violence. Sufloient, enough. — Sufficient refers to actual wants ; enough, to the desires, to what we think we want. A man has sufficient, when his wants are supplied; he has enough, when his desires are satisfied. A greedy man never has enough, though he may have a sufficiency. Another distinction is that enough is used of objects of desire only, while mffident may be spoken of anything which serves a purpose. "Children and animals seldom have enough food." "We should allow sufficient time for whatever is to be done, if we wish it to be done well." Example, instance. — An instance denotes the single case before us, and does not necessarily imply that there are other cases like it. An example, on the contrary, is, by its very terms, one of a class of like things. It is a sample of a class. An example presupposes and implies a rule, an established course or order of thin^ ; an instance simply points out what is true in that particular case, but may not necessarily be true in any other case. "An instance or two of severity in the life of a man who gave every day examples of his kindness of heart, ought not to change our opinions of his character as a whole." Exercises in Precision. 1. Abandon, desert, forsake; abettor, accessory, accomplice; abase, debase, degrade; ability, capacity; abash, confuse, con- found. 2. Abdicate, resign ; abolish, repeal, abrogate, revoke, annul, nullify ; abridgment, compendium, epitome, abstract, synopsis ; absent, abstracted ; absolve, exonerate, acquit. 3. Abuse, invective ; accomplish, effect, execute, achieve, per- form ; account, narrative, narration, recital ; accuse, charge, im- peach, arraign; acknowledge, recognize. 4. Acquaintance, familiarity, intimacy ; add, join, annex, unite, coalesce ; adjacent, adjoining, contiguous ; adjourn, prorogue ; ad- monition, reprehension, reproof. 5. Adorn, ornament, decorate, embellish; adulation, flattery, compliment ; adversary, enemy, opponent, antagonist ; affliction, sorrow, grief, distress ; affront, insult, outrage. 6. Agony, anguish, pang ; alarm, fright, terror, consternation ; alleviate, mitigate, assuage, allay; also, likewise, too; alter- cation, dispute, wrangle. 7. Amend, emend, correct, reform, rectify; amidst, among; ample, abundant, copious, plenteous ; amuse, divert, entertain ; ancient, antiquated, antique, obsolete, old. DICTION— PRECISION. 63 8. Anger, fury, indignation, ire, resentment, rage, wrath ; ani- mosity, enmity ; announce, proclaim, promulgate, publish ; an- ticipate, expect ; appreciate, estimate, esteem. 9. Arduous, difficult, hard ; argue, debate, dispute ; artificer, artisan, artist; ascribe, attribute, impute; asperse, calumniate^ defame, slander. 10. Assert, maintain, indicate ; at last, at length ; atrocious, flagitious, flagrant ; attack, assail, assault, invade ; attempt, en- deavor, effort, exertion, trial. 11. Attend, hearken, listen; authentic, genuine; avaricious, covetous, miserly, niggardly, parsimonious, penurious ; avenge, revenge ; antipathy, aversion, disgust, reluctance, repugnance. 12. Avoid, shun; dread, reverence, veneration; awkward, clumsy, uncouth ; adage, aphorism, axiom, maxim ; baffle, de- feat, frustrate. 13. Banish, exile, expel ; bashfulness, diffidence, modesty, shy- ness ; battle, combat, engagement, fight ; be, exist ; beast, brute. 14. As, because, for, inasmuch as, since ; become, grow ; ask, beg, request; benevolent, beneficent; bent, bias, inclination, prepossession. 15. Bequeath, devise ; beseech, entreat, implore, solicit, sup- plicate ; among, between ; blameless, faultless, spotless, stainless ; blaze, flame. 16. Burden, load ; calculate, compute, count, reckon ; ca- lamity, disaster, mischance, misfortune, mishap ; call, convoke, summon ; can but, can not but. 17. Captious, cavilling, fretful, petulant; anxiety, care, con- cern, solicitude; cautious, circumspect, wary ; cessation, inter- mission, pause, rest, stop ; chasten, chastise, punish. 18. Chief, chieftain, commander, leader ; choose, elect, prefer ; coerce, compel ; comfort, console, solace ; commit, consign, intrust. 19. Conceal, disguise, dissemble, hide, secrete ; acknowledge, avow, confess ; confute, refute ; congratulate, felicitate ; con- quer, overcome, subdue, subjugate, vanquish. 20. Consist in, consist of; constant, continual, perpetual ; con- template, intend, meditate; contemptible, despicable, pitiful, paltry ; convince, persuade. CHAPTER III. SENTENCES. A Sentence is such an assemblage of words as will make complete sense. Sentences are considered under the following heads: 1. Kinds of Sentences ; 2. Rules for the Construction of Sentences. I. KINDS OF SENTENCES. Rhetorical Classification. — Sentences, considered rhe- torically, are divided into Periodic, Loose, Balanced, Short, and Long. 1. Periodic Sentences. A Periodic Sentence is one in which the emphatic word or phrase comes at the end. The main point is kept in suspense until all the subsidiary members and clauses are disposed of The following are examples of periodic sentences ; — If you look about you, and consider the lives of others as well as your own ; if you think how few are born with honor, and how many die without name or children ; how little beauty we see, and how few friends we hear of; how many diseases, and how much poverty there is in the world ; you will fall down upon your knees, and, instead of re- pining at your affliction, will admire so many blessings which you have received at the hand of God. On whatever side we contemplate Homer, what principally strikes us is his invention. Other hope, in studying such books, we have none. 64 SENTENCES.— LOOSE SENTENCES. 65 The writer who uses periodic sentences habitually, or fre- quently, is said to have a periodic style. 2. Loose Sentences. A Loose Sentence is one which ends with a modifying or conditioning clause. The following are examples of loose sentences : — We came to our journey's end at last. How much is this worth for exportation, if gold is at a premium of fifty per cent.? Uses of the Loose Sentence.— A Loose Sentence is not necessarily faulty. A style in which most or even many of the sentences are periodic is apt to become monotonous and stiff. Variety requires, in long pieces especially, that periodic sen- tences should be interspersed occasionally with those that are loose in structure. Dangers of the Loose Sentence. — The danger for most writers is that of having too many loose sentences, and of in- dulging in this mode of expression through mere carelessness. The proper management of the loose sentence, where it is used, requires much care and skill. Recommendation to Beginners. — It is well, therefore, for beginners to practise themselves systematically in reconstruct- ing loose sentences so as to give them a periodic form. Example. — The following is unjustifiably loose : — We came to our journey's end | at last, | with no small difficulty, | after much fatigue, | through deep roads, | and bad weather. There are no less than five different places, at any one of which the sentence might be terminated, so as to be grammati- cally complete. The sentence may be reconstructed and made periodic, as follows : — At last, after much fatigue, through deep roads, and bad weather, we came, with no small difficulty, to our journey's end. Second Example. — Gathering up lately a portion of what I had written, for publication, I have given it as careful a revision as my leisure would allow, have in- deed in many parts rewritten it, seeking to profit by the results of the latest criticism, as far as I have been able to acquaint myself with them. 5 66 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. No one versed in composition can read this sentence without perceiving that it is put together very loosely. First, the clause "for publication" is out of place. Standing where it does, it makes the author say that he "had written for publication," which is just the opposite of what he intends to say. His meaning is that he has written a good many things, and he now gathers them up for publication. By transposing this clause to its proper place, and by dividing the passage into two distinct sentences, the whole may be made more clear and more forcible : — Gathering up lately for publication a portion of what I had written, I have given it as careful a revision as my leisure would allow. Seeking to profit by the results of the latest criticism, as far as I have been able to acquaint myself with them, I have indeed rewritten it. Third Example. — For my labors I shall be abundantly repaid, if now, when so many controversies are drawing away the Christian student from the rich and quiet pastures of Scripture to other fields, not perhaps barren, but which can yield no such nourishment as these do, I shall have contributed aught to detain any among them. In attempting to give a periodic form to a loose sentence of this kind, it is sometimes necessary to reconstruct the sentence entirely. The best, perhaps, that can be done in the present in- stance is to make it read thus : — If I shall have contributed aught to detain the Christian student among the rich and quiet pastures of Scripture, now when so many controversies are drawing him away to other fields, not perhaps barren, but which can yield no such nourishment, I shall feel abundantly re- paid for my labors. Examples for Practice. [The following Loose Sentences are to be reconstructed, so as to be- came Periodic] 1. Shaftesbury's strength lay in reasoning and sentiment, more than in description; however much his descriptions have been admired. 2. They aspired to gaze full on the intolerable brightness of the Deity, instead of catching occasional glimpses of him through an obscuring veil. SENTENCES— BALANCED SENTENCES. 67 3. They despised all the accomplishments and all the dignities of the world, confident of the favor of God. 4. Milton always selected for himself the boldest hterary ser- vices, that he might shake the foundations of debasing senti- ments more eflfectually. 5. Milton's nature selected and drew to itself whatever was ■great and good from the parliament and from the court, from the conventicle and from the cloister, from the gloomy and sepulchral circles of the Eoundheads and from the Christmas revel of the hospitable Cavalier. 6. It is certain that his contrivances seldom failed to serve the purpose for which they were designed, whatever may be thought of the humanity of some of them. 7. Burke's mind, at once philosophical and poetical, found something to instruct and to delight in every part of those huge bales of Indian information which repelled almost all other readers. 8. He would still have had a moderate competence, after all his losses, if he had practised a strict economy. 3. Balanced Sentences. A Balanced Sentence is one in which the clauses are similar in form and to some extent contrasted in meaning. A Balanced Sentence is seldom loose, though not neces- sarily periodic. Dr. Johnson abounds in sentences of this kind. Thus : — The style of Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious and uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope con- strains his mind to his own rule of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid, Pope is always smooth, uniform, and level. Dry- den's page is a natural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation ; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe, and levelled by the roller. The man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force on the plains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona. Junius affords numerous examples : — But, my lord, you may quit the field of business, though not the field of danger; and, though you cannot be safe, you may cease to be ridiculous. 68 COMPOSITION AND MHETOmO. They are still base enough to encourage the follies of your age, as they once did the vices of your youth. Pope. — Perhaps no English writer has given more finished specimens of this kind of sentence than Pope, both in his poetry and in his prose : — Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow. Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil, the better artist ; in the one, we most admire the man ; in the other, the work. Homer hurries us with a commanding impetuosity ; Virgil leads us with an attractive majesty. Homer scatters with a generous profusion ; Virgil bestows with a careful magnificence. Miscellaneous Eoeamples. In peace, children bury their parents; in war, parents bury their children. If you wish to enrich a person, study not to increase his stores, hut to diminish his desires. Words are the counters of wise men, and the money of fools. When we meet an apparent error in a good author, we are to presume ourselves ignorant of his understanding, until we are certain that we understand his ignorance. Use of the Balanced Sentence. — The Balanced Sen- tence is well suited to satire and epigram, and to essays in which characters are delineated by contrast. It may be used sparingly in declamation and oratorJ^ But it is rarely proper in narrative, or in description. One of the cleverest examples in satire is Dryden's line upon a political ally who had deserted to the other side : — They got a villain, and we lost a fool. Hebrew Poetry. — Balanced sentences of a peculiar kind are to be found in Hebrew poetry. This sort of construction, called Paralleliem, is characteristic of Hebrew verse : — A wise son maketh a glad father ; but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. The Lord will not suffer the soul of the righteous to famish : but he casteth away the substance of the wicked. He that gathereth in summer is a wise son : but he that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame. Blessings are upon the head of the just : but violence covereth the mouth of the wicked. The memory of the just is blessed : hut the name of the wicked shall rot. SENTENCES— SHOUT AND LONG SENTENCES,: 69 The book of Job, the Psalms, Proverbs, Song of Solomon, Ecclesiastes, a large part of the Prophetical books, and the poetical portions of the other books, are made up of such parellelisms. 4. Short and Long Sentences. Short and Long. — The division of sentences into Short and Long does not require definition. The terms explain them- selves. It is well, however, to notice the different rhetorical effect produced. Rhetorical Effect. — A fact or a truth, expressed in several short, detached sentences, is usually more easily understood than when expressed in one long, involved sentence. Short sentences also give sprightliness and animation to the style. But a prolonged succession of short sentences is monotonous and produces an impression of nervous weakness. A long sentence, if well constructed, not only gives a fine opportu- nity for climax, but produces an impression of sustained strength. The following is an example of nervous weakness : — Look at the Deacon Stephen. His faithful proclamation of the word offends the Jews. They cannot combat him with reason or with truth. They hire false witnesses. They stir the people up. They set him be- fore the Council. They condemn him falsely. They cast him from the city. They bind, they strip, they stone him. He stands. He looks to heaven. He prays for them. He dies. Rule on the Subject. — In regard to the use of these several kinds of sentences, Periodic and Loose, Balanced, Short and Long, the only general rule that can be given is to study variety. Note. The practice of reconstructing sentences, resolving long com- plex sentences into short ones, and combining short independent sen- tences into long connected ones, is a very useful exercise. In making such reconstructions it is sometimes necessary to change slightly the words also. It is even necessary occasionally to introduce a new word, such as but, and, therefore, however, if, though, because, for, and the like. Exam/pie. — " Pew words she uttered ; and they were all expressive of some inward grief which she cared not to reveal ; but sighs and groans were the chief vent which she gave to her despondency, and which, though they discovered her sorrows, were never able to ease or assuage them." Sentence Reconstructed.— Fevf words she uttered ; and they were 70 COMPOSITION AND RBETORIO. all expressive of some inward grief which she cared not to reveal. Sighs and groans, Iwwever, were the chief vent which she gave to her despond- ency. These, though they discovered her sorrows, were never able to ease or assuage them. Examples for Practice. [Note. Nearly all examples which follow are short sentences which are to be combined into long ones.] 1. I know that that prayer will be answered. I know that that love will be shed abroad. I know that it will swell all hearts. I know that it will kindle every tongue. I know that it will be in every hand more than a sword of Are. 2. The countess was prevailed on by her husband, the mortal enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission ; and Elizabeth, who still expected that her favorite would make this last appeal to her tenderness, and who ascribed the neglect of it to his in- vincible obstinacy, was, after much delay and many internal conflicts, pushed by resentment and policy to sign the warrant for his execution. [Divide into four sentences.] 3. The wise ministers and brave warriors who flourished under her reign share the praise of her success. Instead, however, of lessening the applause due to her, they make great addition to it. [Combine into one sentence.] 4. The land journey was no longer thought of. The Greeks were too well known. They had but recently massacred the Latins in Constantinople. Vessels were required for the voyage by sea. The Venetians were applied to. The traders took ad- vantage of the necessity of the Crusaders. They would not supply them with transports under eighty-five thousand marks of silver. They chose to take a share in the Crvisade. In re- turn they stipulated for a moiety of the conquests. 5. Many a wife sinks into the character of a mere house- keeper. The husband accepts the arrangement. One is not expected to chat with one's housekeeper. One is not expected to stay in of an evening to please her. This consideration ex- plains a phenomenon exhibited in some households. 6. Novels as a class are injurious to young people. They destroy the taste for more solid reading. They cultivate the emotions to an undue extent. They convey false impressions of life. SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 71 7. A heavy cannonade was kept up for five consecutive hours. At last the Une was broken. The troops retreated m the best possible order. 8. Monkeys belong to the order of bimanse, or animals pos- sessing two hands, living generally in trees, and possessing great agility and strength, although some of them are remarkably small, and none of them attain to the great size of the elephant, which is, perhaps, the largest land-animal extant. II. RULES FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF SENTENCES. RULE I.— CLEARNESS. The Words and Clauses should be so arranged that the Meaning cannot be mistaken. Care in the arrangement of the words is especially important in a language like the English, which has so few grammatical terminations. In Latin and Greek, the relation of a word to the other words of the sentence is known at once by its form. But in English this relation is indicated by the position in which the word stands. Example. — Were we to say, " The boy the girl sees," nothing in the form would show which noun is the subject and which the object of "sees." If we turn the words into Latin, leaving them in the same order that they now have, the meaning is made plain by the termina- tion of the nouns, and is changed at will by a change of the termina- tion. Puer puellam videt means " The hoy sees the gill." Puerum puella videt means " The girl sees the boy." What we indicate in Latin by the form of a word, we .are obliged in English to indicate by its position. Hence it is of great importance in English composition to arrange the words in such a manner that the meaning cannot be misunderstood. 1. Position of the Adverbs. Ambiguity is often produced by the improper position of the adverbs. Care should be taken to place the adverb as near as possible to the word which it qualifies, and in such a position, either immediately before or immediately after, that it cannot be taken to qualify any other word. " I only bring forward some things."— Here " only " is so placed as to qualify " bring," and raises the query, what else the author proposed to do, or could do, besides bringing these things forward. What he in- tended to say, was that these things were only a part of what he had at his disposal. The "only" has reference to the "some things," and 72 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. should be placed as near to those words as possible. If placed imme- diately before them, the adverb might be construed with " forward." I bring the things forward only, not forward and backward, or not up and down. The true order of the words is, " I bring forward some things only. Many more might be said." Here the arrangement prevents the possibility of mistake. " In all abstract oases where we merely speak of numbers, the verb is better singular." — The question might be asked, what if we write of num- bers, as well as speak of them ? But the author evidently intended the "merely" to limit " numbers ;" and he should have written, "In all cases where we speak of numbers merely, the verb is better singular." " The Romans understood liberty at least as well as we." — If, in read- ing this, we emphasize " liberty," the meaning is, that whatever else we understand better than the Romans did, liberty, at least, was one thing which they understood as well as we do. If, on the other hand, we put the emphasis on " we," the meaning is, liberty was understood by them well, as well at least as by us, probably better. This meaning, which appears to be what the author intended, would have been expressed without ambiguity by arranging the words thus : " The Romans under- stood liberty as well, at least, as we." Blair's Remark. — " In regard to such adverbs as only, wholly, at least, the fact is that, in common discourse, the tone and em- phasis we use in pronouncing them generally serve to show their reference, and to make the meaning clear ; and hence we acquire a habit of throwing them in loosely in the course of a period. But, in writing, where a man speaks to the eye, and not to the ear, he ought to be more accurate ; and so to connect those adverbs with the words which they qualify, as to put his meaning out of doubt, upon the first inspection.'' Examples for Practice. [The student is expected to criticise and correct the following sentences in regard to the position of the adverb.] 1. There are certain miseries in idleness which the idle can only conceive. 2. The good man not only deserves the respect, but the love of his fellow-beings. 3. He is considered generally insane. 4. California not only produces gold in abundance, but quick- silver also. 5. It was by the English, French, Spanish, and Dutch, that the New World was principally colonized. SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 73 6. If education refined only the manners, we might do with- out it ; but it also disciplines the mind and improves the heart. 7. The productions mostly consist of corn and cotton. 8. It was by hunting and fishing that the Indians chiefly sub- sisted. 9. They allowed themselves to be drawn ofl" when only wearied of their own excesses. 10. It was the advantage gained precisely by the Saxons which ruined them. 11. One among royal houses alone did not recognize the rights of women. 12. The light, sandy soil only favors the fern. 13. He was elected, but only was seen twice in the House. 14. I only distribute them among the lower ranks. 15. I only spoke to him. I did not speak to any one else. 16. The French nearly lost five thousand men. 17. He merely accompanied me to the brook. I was obliged to go the rest of the way by myself. 2. Position of Adverbial Clauses and Adjuncts. What has been asserted of adverbs is equally true of what may be called adverbial clauses and adjuncts. By an adverbial clause or adjunct is meant a group of words which, taken to- gether, limit the meaning of some other word. All such clauses or adjuncts should be so placed that they cannot easily be taken to qualify any other word than that for which they were in- tended. " It contained a warrant for conducting me and my retinue to Tral- dragdubb, or Trildrogdrib, for it is pronounced both ways, as near as I can remember, by a party of ten horse." — What the author means to say, is that he and his retinue are to be conducted by a party of ten horse. What he does say, is that this place with the hard name is pronounced both ways by a party of ten horse. "The following lines were written by an esteemed friend, who has Iain in the grave for many years, for his own amusement." — The author means that his friend had written the lines for his own amusement. What he says, is that his friend has lain in the grave many years for his own amusement ! In the English House of Commons, a speaker once said that a certain witness had been " ordered to withdraw from the bar in consequence of being intoxicated, by the motion of an honorable member," — as if the witness was intoxicated by the motion! The speaker meant that, "in a • 74 COMPOSITION- AND RHETORIC. consequence of being intoxicated, the witness, on the motion of an hon- orable member, had been ordered to withdraw from the bar of the House." " The beaux of that day used the abominable art of painting their faces, as well as the women." That is, the beaux not only painted their faces, but painted the women also! The author meant to say, "The beaux of that day, as well as the women, used the abominable art of painting their faces." "I remember when the French band of the 'Guides' were in this country, reading in the Illustrated News." The author seems to say that these Frenchmen were reading in the Illustrated News. He means, " I remember reading in the Illustrated News, when the French band of the 'Guides' were in this country." Examples for Practice. [The student is expected to criticise and amend the following sen- tences, in regard to the position of the adverbial adjuncts and clauses.] I. He was born in the old New England town, whose colonial history is so tragically memorable, on the 4th of July, 1804. % I could see that the floor had been swept with half an eye. 3. The enemy attacked us before the day had begun to break at three o'clock in the morning. 4. He went to town, driving a flock of sheep, on horseback. 5. Wanted, a young woman to take care of two orphan chil- dren, of a religious turn of mind. 6. Dr. Hall will deliver a lecture on the importance of taking exercise before breakfast at three o'clock in the afternoon. 7. Wanted, a room for a single gentleman, twelve feet long and six feet wide. 8. Lost, a cow belonging to an old woman, with brass knobs on her horns. 9. He merely asks leave to come and play a little solo, on the bagpipes, of his own composing. 10. A man with one eye named Robert Welch. II. Lost by a poor lad tied up in a brown paper with a white string a German flute with an overcoat and several other arti- cles of wearing apparel. 12. Nature tells me, I am the image of God, as well as Scrip- ture. 13. Though I can't say I ever actually saw a ghost in my life, yet I am certain I should know one if I saw him, better than that comes to. SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 75 14. Passengei-s are requested to pvirchase tickets before en- tering the cars at the company's office. 15. The author's object is to represent for his own pleasure the things witnessed, in as vivid and correct a manner as pos- sible. 16. When at last we got into town, the people came out to their doors, all aslant and with streaming hair, making a won- der of the mail that had come through on such a night. 17. A child was run over by a heavy wagon, four years old, wearing a short pink dress, and bronze boots, whose parents are not yet found. 18. I would ask the congregation to be seated, as I wish to say a few words, before I begin. 19. They laid the three peacefully to rest in the little shaded church-yard beneath the trees, under whose shadow they had chatted with those now surviving a thousand times. 20. He by no means despaired of seeing her come out of the cloud which now covered her with a meek and grateful heart. 21. Banks of sea-weed were piled up around these huts, kept down from the power of the wind by large stones laid on the top, to exclude the cold and snow of winter. 22. I cannot think of leaving you without distress. 23. Among the first arrivals was Mr. Derby, now so loved by every one, who was to officiate on the occasion. 24. There was a little church mission a few miles from the fort, in the country, maintained by the English Society. 3. Squinting Construction. In connection with these examples it is well to notice what the French call a "squinting" construction. By this is meant a word, or a grammatical expression, thrown into the middle of a sentence, in such a place that it looks both ways, so to speak ; that is, it can be connected in meaning either with what goes before, or with what follows. This is a very common source of ambiguity. " Though some of the European rulers may be females, when spoken of altogether, they may be correctly classified under the denomination ' kings.' " — This may be understood to mean that " some of the European rulers may be females when spoken of all together." What the author really meant may be expressed by transposing the words italicized. 76 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Thus: "Though some of the European rulers may be females, they may, when spoken of altogether, be correctly classified under the de- nomination 'kings.'" " Are these designs which any man who is born a Briton, in any cir- cumstances, ought to be ashamed to avow ?" — The words in italics squint. They may look back to " bom," or forward to " ashamed." This sen- tence may mean a " man who in any circumstances is born a Briton," or that he " ought not in any circumstances to be ashamed." The words should be arranged thus: "Are these designs which any man who is born a Briton ought, in any circumstances, to be ashamed to avow?" General Rule. — The writer should never require of the reader, in order to an understanding of the meaning, any- greater degree of attention than is absolutely necessary. The Reason. — Whatever attention we are obliged to waste upon the mere words, is so much deducted from our apprecia- tion of the thoughts and sentiments back of the words. Quintilian'e Rule. — " Care should be taken," says Quin- tilian, " not that the hearer may understand, but that he must understand, whether he will or not." Language a Transparent Medium. — Language has been well compared to air, glass, water, or other transparent medium, through which material objects are viewed. " If," says Camp- bell, " the medium through which we look at any object is per- fectly transparent, our whole attention is fixed on the object; we are scarcely sensible, that there is a medium which inter- venes, and we can hardly be said to perceive it. But if there is any flaw in the medium, if we see through it but dimly, if the object is imperfectly represented, or if we know it to be misrepresented, our attention is immediately taken off the ob- ject to the medium. We are then anxious to discover the cause, either of the dim and confused representation, or of the misre- presentation, of things which it exhibits, that so the defect in vision may be supphed by judgment. The case of language is precisely similar. A discourse, then, excels in perspicuity when the subject engrosses the attention of the hearer, and the lan- guage is so little minded by him, that he can scarcely be said to be conscious it is through this medium he sees into the speaker's thoughts." SENTENCES— CLX:ARNMSS. 77 Examples for Practice. [The student is expected to point out tlie squinting clause in each of the following sentences, and to reconstruct the sentences so as to make them free from this fault.] 1. The poor little beggar longed for some fruit, and after searching from one end of the market to the other, for a penny, at length, bought an apple. 2. This part of our good fame in the olden time was forfeited by the negligence of the authorities. 3. The wild fellow in Petronius, who escaped upon a broken table from the furies of a shipwreck, as he was sunning himself upon the rocky shore, espied a man rolled upon his floating bed of waves. 4. He incurred the imputation of avarice, while he was, in fact, exceedingly generous, simply by his ignorance of the pur- chasing power of money. 5. The wreck of his vessel upon the sand-bar remained, in all those succeeding years, a monument of his departure in the midst of the sea. 6. When the morning came and their breakfast was over, to their surprise, Mr. Dalton's carriage stood before the door. 7. Any one whom he considered in all things subject to his absolute command. 8. This monument was erected to the memory of John Smith, who was shot, as a mark of affection by his brother. 9. Tell him, if he is in the parlor, I do not care to see him. 10. Say to him, if he is in the wrong, he should retrace his steps. 4. Use of the Pronouns. Ambiguity and obscurity are often produced by carelessness in the use of the Pronouns. "When a man gets to his ife," says Cobbett, " I tremble for him." The skill with which a writer deals with the pronouns and other small connecting words is the best evidence of the degree to which he has at- tained a mastery of the technique of composition. Personal Pronouns. — When two or more masculine nouns occur in the same sentence, the use of " he " often becomes ambiguous. To avoid this ambiguity, some other form must be given to the expression, or, instead of using the pronoun, we must repeat the noun. 78 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. " The lad cannot leave his father, for if he should leave his father, his father would die."— To have written, " if he should leave his father, Ae would die," would have left it uncertain whether it was the father or the son that would die. " No one as yet had exhibited the structure of the human kidneys, Vesalius having examined tJiem only in dogs." — That is, having exam- ined hutnan kidneys in dogs! Read, "Vesalius having examined the kidneys of dogs only." " The intellectual qualities of the youth were superior to those of his raiment,"— That is, superior to the intellectual qualities of his raiment! The writer meant that the qualities of the youth's intellect were supe- rior to those of his raiment. Ho'w to Avoid Embarrassment. — A writer who becomes embarrassed in the use of the pronouns, in consequence of hav- ing to refer back to two different objects, or classes of objects, will almost always be able to extricate himself from the dif- ficulty by changing the construction so as to make one object or class of objects singular and the other plural. " Men look with an evil eye upon the good that is in others ; and think that Dieir [others, or men?] reputation obscures them [?], and (heir [ ? ] commendable qualities stand in their [ ? ] light ; and therefore tliei) [? ] do what they [?] can to cast a cloud over tliem [? ], that the bright shining of their [?] virtues may not obscure This figure, called Asyndeton (omitting the connectives), was much prac- tised by Greek and Roman writers, and some examples have attained his- torical celebrity, as the Veni, mdi, vici of Caesar, which Shakespeare renders by : " came and saw and overcame," a polysyndeton. This opposite figure, Poly- eynOeUm. (multiplying the connectives) was also much in vogue among them. 7 I 98 COMPOSITION AND RMETOBIC. ... Of their wonted vigor left them drained, Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen. — Milton. Observe how the repetition of the and in the following enu- meration serves to separate the several items, and thus to intensify and aggravate the whole : — Love was not in their looks, either to God Or to each other, but apparent guilt, And shame, and perturbation, and despair. Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. — Milton. Observe, too, how the supplies needed by David and his men seem to be piled up in his camp by the eager zeal of the coun- try people : — They brought beds, and basins, and earthen vessels, and wheat, and barley, and flour, and parched corn, and beans, and lentils, and parched pulse, and honey, and butter, and sheep, and cheese of kine. — 2 Sam. xvii. 28, 29. So, too, our Saviour, in his description of the house upon the sand, by repeating the conjunction, obliges the mind of the reader to dwell on each successive stage in the sad catastrophe : And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it— Matt. vii. 27, 28. A similar effect is produced by the repetition of or and nor. I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor princi- palities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. — Rom. viii. 38, 39. Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or mom, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine. — Milton. 4. Conclusion. The strength of a sentence is promoted by due care in bringing it to a conclusion. The Reason. — The mind naturally dwells upon the last word. We should be careful, therefore, not to end a sentence with any word or phrase that is comparatively unimportant, SENTENCES— STRENGTH. 99 mean, or belittling. Such words should be disposed of in some less conspicuous place. It is rarely expedient to end a sentence with an adverb. "Such things were not allowed formerly." — This sentence gains in strength hy transposing the adverb thus : " Formerly such things were not allowed." If, liowever, the adverb is to be emphasized, it should of course be placed in the emphatic position; as, "In tlieir prosperity, my friends shall never hear of me ; in their adversity. Avoid ending a sentence with a preposition. "Avarice is a vice which wise men are often guilty of." — Change thus: "Avarice is a vice of which wise men are often guilty." " He is one whom good men are glad to be acquainted with." — Change thus : " He is one with whom good men are glad to be acquainted." Objections to Ending with a Preposition. — Besides the want of dignity which arises from ending a sentence with one of these small monosyllables, with, from, of, in, to, by, etc., the mind, as aheady stated, cannot help resting for a moment upon the last word ; and if that word, instead of presenting some idea or picture to the imagination, some sub- stantive import of its own, merely serves to point out the relation of other words, the effect cannot be otherwise than enfeebling. To laugh at, etc. — The rule is not to be observed so strictly in the case of prepositions which virtually make a compound verb, like laugh at, bring about, lay hold of, dear up, etc. Even in these cases, however, it is desirable, as far as we can, to find some simple verb, of the same meaning, wherewith to end the sentence. The Pronoun " it," especially when accompanied with a pre- position, as with it, in it, to it, etc., makes a feeble ending. "There is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing and triumphant con- sideration in religion, than this, of the perpetual progress which the soul makes towards the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it." An unimportant phrase or circumstance brings up the rear of a sentence with a bad grace. " Let me, therefore, conclude hy repeating, that division has caused all the mischief we lament ; that union alone can retrieve it ; and that a great advance towards this union was the coalition of parties, so happily begun, so successfully carried on, and of late so unaccountably neglected ; to say no worse." — The concluding phrase in italics is a sad falling off in a sentence otherwise well constructed. 100 COMPOSITION AND RBETORIC. 5. Contrast. In cases of contrast, the sentence becomes stronger and more effective, if the contrasted members are constructed alike. " The laughers will be for those who have most wit ; the serious part of mankind for those who have most reason on their side." — Correct thus : " The laughers will be for those who have most wit ; the serious for those who have most reason on their side." " Ignorance is a blank sheet, on which we must write; error, a scrib- bled one, from which we must erase." For additional examples, see Part I. Section 3, " Balanced Sentences." If the members of the sentence vary in structure, the con- trast is weakened. Thus : — " William is the best reader, but John writes the best." " I cannot draw as well as I am able to sing." "Philadelphia is the largest in area, but New York contains the largest number of inhabitants." The above are made more forcible by slight changes : — " William is the best reader, but John is the best writer." " I cannot draw as well as I can sing." " Philadelphia is the largest in area, but New York is the largest in population." 6. Climax. A sentence consisting of several clauses is greatly strengthened by having the clauses arranged in a climax. " The power of man, his greatness, his glory, depend on essential qualities." " A word from his lips, a thought from his brain, might turn their hearts, might change their opinions, might decide their destiny." It is not always possible to contract a sentence in this way, that is, with a succession of clauses, each rising and growing in importance above its predecessor ; nor, indeed, is it desirable. An occasional climax is powerful ; hut too many would destroy all simplicity and make the style intolerably stiff. Climax of Sentences. — Not only clauses of the same sen- tence, but two or more independent sentences, coming in suc- cession, may be made climactic. SENTENCES— STRENGTH. 101 Cicero uses the following climax in his oration against Verres : " To bind a Roman citizen is an outrage ; to scourge him is an atrocious crime ; to pitt him to death is almost a parricide ; but to put him to death by CKUciFixioN, — what shall I call it?" Minor Climax. — Besides this elaborate sort of climax, which is necessarily of rare occurrence, there is a minor species of climax which demands constant attention. Very many sen- tences, perhaps one-half or one-third of all that occur in ordi- nary composition, consist of two members or clauses, one of which is usually longer than the other. In such cases, it is a safe practical rule to place the shorter clause first, unless there is some special inducement to the contrary. Periods thus di- vided are pronounced more easily. Moreover, the shortest member being placed first, we carry it more readily in our memory while proceeding to the second. " When our passions have forsaken us, we flatter ourselves with the belief that we have forsaken them." This is a better sentence than it would be if the clauses were transposed, thus : " We flatter ourselves with the belief that we have forsaken our passions, when they have forsaken us." Anti-climax. — K clauses are so arranged that each succeed- ing one diminishes in importance, the construction is called an Anti-climax. The efiect is necessarily humorous, and is justi- fiable, if it is intended, as in this passage from George Eliot : — When George the Fourth was still reigning over the privacies of Windsor, when the Duke of Wellington was prime minister, and Mr. Vincy was mayor of the old corporation in Middlemarch, etc. But if the anti-climax is unintentional, the absurdity of it falls upon the writer, as in the following : — i He lost his wife, his child, his household goods, and his dog, at one fell swoop. ! David was a great warrior, a great statesman, a great poet, and a skil- ful performer on the harp. 1 What were the results of this conduct?— beggary ! dishonor! utter ruin! and a broken leg! Examples for Ppactlee. [Sentences containing violations of some of the rules laid down for promoting Strength. The student is expected to point out the inaccu- racy, and to reconstruct the sentence, avoiding that particular fault.] 102 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. 1. Of his ascent up Mount Vesuvius, he gives a very inter- esting account. 2. When such a man is found, his name is in every one's mouth, his praises are sounded hy all. 3. Few have ever described Niagara with so much vividness as this author. 4. We delight in such a work, whether it pleases the eye, en- riches the understanding, or supplies our humbler needs. 5. The Greeks and Romans drew prognostics from prodigies, that is to say, from rare natural appearances ; among which comets, meteors, and eclipses held an important place. 6. The whole of it is pervaded by a spirit of judicial calmness. 7. When will the curtain rise up ? 8. He reduced the pounds down to shillings and pence. 9. From whence did he come ? 10. As I previously remarked before now, I say again. 11. The sentence is full of the greatest number of mistakes. 12. I have got, at the very lowest calculation, at least one hundred votes. 13. I am quite certain that he was the very identical boy to whom you allude. 14. He took it from, and would not return it to, the child. 15. He walked past, but did not enter into, the garden. 16. There was no evidence of habitation about the place, and neither leaf nor bud was to be seen, and the quail piped, and the crow croaked dismally and unceasingly, and all things were dreary and unattractive. 17. He was sure to give the correct word exactly. 18. It is a house I should never be willing to live in. 19. That is a vice you cannot accuse me of 20. The wrongs of Ireland will crumble under one well- directed blow, and Gladstone is the one man in Parliament who knows how to attend to it. 21. I do not know what the house is built of. 22. I cannot tell what street he lives in. 23. The house was closely crowded with an immense number of people. 24. They ascended up the hill. 25. They descended down into the valley. 26. I will recompense him back again. SENTENCES— HARMONY. 103 RULE v.— HARMONY. A Sentence should be so constructed as to have a Pleasing Effect upon the Ear. 1. Tlie Prevalence of Pleasant Sounds. The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by the preva- lence in it of pleasant sounds. Sound not to be Disregarded. — Sound, though a quality much inferior to sense, is not to be disregarded. Men are in- fluenced, not merely by what is reasonable, but by what is agreeable, and no thought can be entirely agreeable which is communicated to the mind by means of harsh and unpleasant sounds. The manner in which a sentence sounds depends, first upon the choice of words, secondly upon their arrangement. Choice of Words. — Some words are in themselves more agreeable to the ear than other. No definite rules can be given for determining what words have a musical sound. The following points, however, may be assumed : 1. Words diflicult of pronunciation are correspondingly harsh and painful to the ear. 2. A preponderance of vowels and liquids gives softness to the sound and ease in pronunciation. 3. The same effect is produced by a proper alternation of vowels and consonants. Several vowels coming together require the mouth to be opened disagreeably. Several consonants coming together, particularly if they are mutes, make the utterance difficult. Take the word antiquity. Omitting the consonants, we have aiiy ; omitting the vowels, we have n tkw t. The former combination is awk- ward on account of the hiatus after each of the vowels ; the latter, on account of the many stops. We pass more easily from one vowel to another when there is a consonant between them, and more easily from one consonant to another when there is a vowel between. A word in which the vowels and consonants are duly alternated is on that account more easily pronounced, and more agreeable to the ear. Any one can test this with such euphonious combinations as merrily, happiness, remedy, obloquy, demeanor, sonorous, bridal, tidal, hymnal, etc., or with such dif- ficult combinations as quench' d, writ'st, placedst, bah'dst. The following lines are a good example of harmony ; there is 104 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIG. an easy alternation of vowels and consonants, and most of the consonants are liquids : — Lay him low, lay him low. In the clover or the snow : What cares he ? he cannot know : Lay him low. — Boker. A word, though otherwise euphonious, is disagreeable to the ear, (1.) When two syllables of the same, or nearly the same sound, succeed each other, as in holUy, sillily ; (2.) When there is a long succession of unaccented syllables, as in cursorily, arbitrarily, peremptoriness, meteoro- logical, anthropological, veterinary, etc. Arrangement of Words. — Words which by themselves are sufficiently euphonious sometimes displease the ear on account of their proximity to certain other words in the sentence. This is the case whenever in contiguous words there are similar com- binations of sounds ; as. His history ; I can ca?jdidly say ; I confess with humility the dehtZtij/ of my judgment ; sterile i71iteracy; bring gingham; they stood up upon their feet ; he wiU m/fully persist ; the -man manfully endured. The following humorous lines illustrate the point : — O'er the sea see the flamingo flaming go. The lark hie high, the swallow follow low ; The small bees busy at their threshold old. And lambs lamenting the threefold fold. Alternation of Soft and Harsh Sounds. — The ear is pleased with such an arrangement of words that soft and liquid sounds alternate in due proportion with sounds that are rugged and comparatively harsh. A long succession of words in which there are but few consonants, and those chiefly liquids, gives for a time the sense of lightness and grace ; but if the peculiarity is pushed too far, it produces in the end an impression of weak- ness and effeminacy. Note the multiplication of liquids in the following, from Poe : And neither the angels in heaven above, - Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. Contrast these with the second of the following lines : — SENTENCES—HARMONY. 105 His sinuous path, by blazes, wound Among trunks grouped in mjTiads round. Perhaps there is not in the language a finer example of the alternation of soft and sharp sounds, than the following lines from Whittier : — I love the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through, The, songs of Spenser's golden days, Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase, Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew. Or Milton's descriptioa of the fall of Mulciber : — Nor was his name unheard or unadored In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land Men called him Mulciber ; and how he fell From heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day ; and with the setting sun Dropped from the zenith like a falling star, On Lemnos, the ^gean isle. — Par. Lost, i. 738-746. 2. The Accents at Convenient Intervals. The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by arranging the words in such a manner that the accents come at con- venient and somewhat measured intervals. It is this pecuharity mainly which makes certain prose writ- ings so much easier to read than others. This measured style is very observable in Dr. Johnson. In the following passage the clauses have a cadence somewhat like that of verse ; they may be declaimed with perfect ease : — When I am animated by this wish, I look with pleasure on my book, however defective, and deliver it to the world with the spirit of a man that has endeavored well. That it will immediately become popular I have not promised to myself : a few wild blunders and risible absurdi- ties, from which no work of such multiplicity was ever free, may for a time famish folly with laughter, and harden ignorance in contempt ; but usefiil diligence will at last prevail, and there never can be wanting some who distinguish desert ; who will consider that no dictionary of a living tongue ever can be perfect, since while it is hastening to publica- tion, some words are budding and some falling away ; that a whole life 106 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. cannot be spent upon syntax and etymology, and that even a whole life would not be sufficient ; that he, whose design includes whatever lan- guage can express, must often speak of what he does not understand ; that a writer will sometimes be hurried by eagerness to the end, and sometimes faint with weariness under a task which Scaliger compares to the labors of the anvil and the mine ; that what is obvious is not always known, and what is known is not always present ; that sudden fits of inadvertency will surprise vigilance, slight avocations will seduce attention, and casual eclipses of the mind will darken learning ; and that the writer shall often in vain trace his memory at the moment of need for that which yesterday he knew with intuitive readiness, and which will come uncalled into his thoughts to-morrow. — Preface to the Dic- tionary, Ed. of 1755. Great Oare Needed. — If this manner of composition is con- tinued through a number of periods in succession, it becomes wearisome. Nothing, indeed, in the mere form of expression, requires greater skill and judgment than the proper alternation of such nicely measured periods with sentences of a different movement. Milton's prose writings furnish some of the finest examples in our literature of the harmonious and rhythmical arrangement of words. Take the following oft-quoted sentence : I shall detain ye now no longer in the demonstration of what we should not do, but straight conduct ye to a hillside, where I will point ye out the right path of a virtuous and noble education ; laborious in- deed at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming. If the sentence just quoted has the softness and gentleness of a harp, others have 'the majestic swell and sonorousness of a mighty organ. They are equally musical, though the music is of a different kind. Consider the following : — Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing her- self like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks ; me- thinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam; purging and unsealing her long-abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance; while the whole noise of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at what she means ! 3. Cadence at tlie Close. The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by a due at- tention to the cadence at the close. SENTENCES— HARMONY. 107 Wliy Important. — It is important to leave upon the ear, at the close of a sentence, a sound both agreeable in itself, and suited to the general impression which we wish to make. The words and clauses therefore should be so marshalled that some- thing pleasing and sonorous may come in at the end. The following passage from "The Wife," by Washington Irving, well illustrates both this rule and the preceding: — As the vine, which has long twined its graceful foliage about the oak, and been lifted by it into sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted by the thunderbolt, cling round it with its caressing tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs ; so is it beautifully ordered by Providence, that woman, who is the mere dependant and ornament of man in his hap- pier hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten witli sudden calamity ; winding herself into the rugged recesses of his nature, ten- derly supporting the drooping head, and binding up the broken heart. In this long sentence, the pauses or rests are so adjusted that the voice passes with ease from point to point, while in the last line the conclusion of the whole is both graceful and firm. Small Unaccented Words at the End. — Any marked falling off in sonorousness at the end is displeasing to the ear. For this reason, we should avoid closing a sentence with a small unaccented word. Such a termination is injurious to harmony as well as to strength. " It is a mystery which we firmly beheve the truth of, and humbly adore the depth of." — Change thus : " It is a mystery, the truth of which we firmly believe, and the depth of which we humbly adore." An Accent Needed near the End. — It seems to hold in general, in our language, that in order to a musical close, either the last syllable, or the last but one, should have the accent. Hence words which have the accent far removed from the end, such as c6ntrary, aliditory, peremptorily, etc., are, so far as the music is concerned, unsuited for the close of a sentence. To say, "The order was given peremptorily," does not end as agreeably to the ear as to say, "The order was given in a peremptory tone." 4. Adapting the Sound to the Sense. The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by adapting the sound to the sense. 108 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Character of this Harmony. — The harmony which arises from this source is of a much higher kind than that which arises from mere pleasantness of sound. This higher kind of harmony may exist where the sounds are in themselves harsh and grating. The very ruggedness of sound may be an element of the harmony. The author may desire to convey the idea of something disagreeable and horrid, in which case the harshness of the words is in consonance with the thought, and helps the effect. The opening of Hell gates, in Paradise Lost, is often quoted in illustration of this point : — On a sudden open fly With impetuous recoil and jarring sound The infernal doors, and their hinges grate Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus. Greater Variety Admissible. — In seeking, therefore, that kind of harmony which consists in adapting the sound to the sense, a great variety of words is admissible. For grave and serious ideas we naturally use words whose sounds are slow and measured. Stern and impetuous thoughts are expressed by words which are harsh and discordant. Gentle and benignant feelings, on the other hand, require soft and flowing words. By selecting words of different sounds, a writer may indicate many varieties of motion, as swift or slow, easy or difficult, and may even imitate particular noises, as when we speak of the hum of the bee, the hiss of the serpent, the whistling of the wind, the crash of the falling tree. Notice how huge size and unwieldiness are expressed by the choice of words in the following passages from Milton : — Part, huge of bulk, Wallowing, unwieldy, enormous in their gait. Tempest the ocean. Scarce from, his mould Behemoth, biggest bom of earth, upheaved His vastness. The labor of Sisyphus is aptly imitated by Pope in the follow- ing lines, particularly in the last : — With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the Aigh hill he heaves a huge round stone. SENTENCES— HARMONY. 109 The imitation here is rendered more effective by the artifice of the continued repetition of the aspirate. The felhng of timber is thus described, in words whose sound is clearly an echo of the sense : — Deep-echoing groan the thickets brown, Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down. One of the most remarkable examples of harmony produced by the adaptation of the sound to the sense, is Poe's well-known poem of the "Bells." The poem is too familiar to need quota- tion. Tennyson's "Bugle Song" is another exquisite instance. Apart from the mere sound of the words, an imitative har- mony may be produced in poetry by the rhythm. Thus the galloping of a horse is imitated in the following : — At each bound he could feel his scabbard of steel Smiting his stallion's flanks. — Longfellow. Almost every variety of warlike sound is imitated in these lines : — Hark to the brazen blare of the bugle ! Hark to the rattling clatter of the drums, The measured tread of the steel-clad footmen 1 Hark to the laboring horses' breath. Painfully tugging the harnessed cannon ; The shrill, sharp clink of the warriors' swords, As their chargers bound when the trumpets sound Their alarums through the echoing mountains \—Boker. How very different the following : — And far below the Roundheads rode. And hummed a surly hymn. — Tennyson. ^ Miscellaneous Examples on the Construction of Sentences. [Point out whatever is faulty in any of these sentences, and recon- struct the sentence so as to avoid the fault.] 1. He is a benefactor who from scattered fragments constructs a work, clear in outline, and symmetrical, to endure through the 2. Poverty habitually comes in like an armed man, and mis- ery and want unalleviated, and sometimes apparently unper- ceived, rule with absolute dominion in the place. K 110 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 3. A man very much under the influence of hquor, with a pair of shad, was making his way under difficulties to the depot, on Saturday. 4. To this accomphshed and unfortunate lady, Anne Boleyn, whose beauty attracted the fatal notice, but could not fix the brutal passion of the king, who "spared neither man in his wrath nor woman in his lust," is sometimes ascribed the fol- lowing touching poem, though neither Mr. Walton nor Mr. Eitson think justly. 5. This beautiful and highly accomplished woman, Mary Queen of Scots, whose feminine character ill fitted her for the throne of a rude nation in the most agitated period of its his- tory, and who had the misfortune to live among enemies paid to slander her, while none dared to defend her against a haughty powerful rival, that united to a woman's jealousy of her supe- rior claims, the sternest policies of unscrupulous ambition, is now seldom named without melancholy interest, and a wish to forget her faults in the trials of her circumstances. 6. She added to unusual learning much talent as a painter, and according to her admiring contemporaries, as a poetical writer. 7. She wrote among other poems, a spirited defence of her sex, in answer to Pope's Characters of Women, which Dun- combe praises in his Feminead. 8. She was fond, however, of literary society, as is shown by her friendship for Mrs. Eowe (she was the authoress of the letter signed Cleora in Mrs. R.'s collection) ; Thomson, whom she kindly patronized (who dedicated to her the first edition of his Spring) ; Dr. Watts (who dedicated to her his Miscellaneous Thoughts in Prose and Verse) ; and Shenstone (who addressed to her his Ode on Rural Elegance). 9. Mrs. Greville (whose maiden name was Fanny McCartney), wife of Fulke Greville, author of Maxims, Characters, etc., 1756, wrote, about 1753, her Prayer for Indifference, which was very popular, and provoked several clever replies, the best being by the Countess of C , supposed to be Isabella, Countess of Carlisle, who died 1793. 10. She went upon the stage, for which she had long before an inclination,- to gain a support. 11. This well-known lady, the widow of a Presbyterian clergy- SENTENCES— HARMONY. Ill man of Inverness-shire, Scotland, whose Letters from the Moun- tains have been so generally and universally admired, published a volume of poems in 1801, which shows the same talents that made her descriptions of scenery so graphic and delightful. 12. The editor has far greater pleasure in spealiing of her writings, as they struck his youthful fancy, than with the cool judgment of more mature years. 13. We may recur to an earlier period, when the crown was devisable by will in England, or when at least the succession was settled in accordance with the desires of a dying sovereign, for some kind of parallel. 14. Rich or poor you have always been to me a true friend. 15. My confidence in the people governing is unlimited ; my confidence in the people governed is infinitesimal. 16. Everybody when they buy want the best. 17. I am sure there was a case in the day before yesterday's paper, extracted from one of the French newspapers, about a journeyman shoemaker who was jealous of a young girl in an adjoining village, because she would not shut herself up in an air-tight three-pair of stairs, and charcoal herself to death with him ; and who went and hid himself in a wood with a sharp- pointed knife ; and rushed out as she passed by with a few friends, and killed himself first, and then all the friends, and then her — no, killed all the friends first, and then herself, and then himself — which was quite frightful to think of 18. Such a man should not be tolerated in office, for one who receives bribes for the administration of justice can hardly be thought at all times to keep in mind what justice means, nor one who winks at wrong-doing to be free from all taint of mis- demeanor himself. 19. Owing to an obstacle on the track, and the badness of the weather, the train was delayed, and as John did not reach home in time to attend the funeral, they concluded to postpone it. 20. My son John rode down to Colchester, mounted upon the old bay horse. Shying at a white gate, he stumbled and cast a shoe, and John was detained an hour at the smithy. 21. John Brown, his wife, baby, and dog, came up to town to see the fair, and passing through the streets he amused himself by barking at every unprotected female he met.- 22. The moon is situated about two hundred and forty thou- 112 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIO. sand miles from the earth, and is supposed to be an opaque body shining only by the reflection of the rays passing from the sun, and it influences the waters of the earth in such a way as to produce the tides once in 24 hours. 23. A man walked down the street, followed by a little dog, sporting a green neck-tie and patent leather boots. 24. He came into church with his wife, wearing a full-dress uniform of the cavalry regiment then stationed in the neigh- borhood. 25. The old astronomers were free to invent whatever theories they pleased as to the scale on which the sidereal scheme is con- structed, since if the earth were at rest we could never know how far the stars were from us, and it was only when the earth was set free by Copernicus from the imaginary chain which had been conceived as holding it in the centre of the universe, that it became possible to form any conception of the distances at which the stars lie from us. 26. By the time I had taken five bottles, I found myself com- pletely cured, after having been brought so near to the gate of death, by means of your invaluable medicine. 27. An extensive view is presented from the fourth story of the Delaware River. 28. His remains were committed to that bourn whence no traveller returns, attended by his family. 29. If the gentleman who keeps a store in Cedar Street, with a red head, will return the umbrella he borrowed from a lady, with an ivory handle, he will hear of something to his advan- tage. 30. Wanted a groom to take charge of two horses of a serious turn of mind. 31. He walked toward the table and took up his hat and bade adieu to his host and took his departure. 32. As I was on the express train, I watched the conductor passing through the cars, collecting the tickets from the way passengers, and punching the through ones. 33. All persons must detest traitors who possess any love of country whatever. 34. John is the best boy in the village that attends the academy. 35. The books treat of trees that are on the fourth shelf. SENTENCES— HA BMONY. 113 36. Her apron was torn by a little dog, that was trimmed with pink and white braid. 37. William Penn gave this advice to his children : Let your industry and parsimony go no further than for a suflBciency for life, and to make a provision for your children, and that in mod- eration, if the Lord gives you any. 38. Mrs. Ingram, a most estimable lady, widow of the late proprietor, who was a member from Boston, and died last year, is the sole owner of the Illustrated London News. 39. It was midnight — the very hour at which (with a punc- tuality few of them have exhibited in the flesh) spirits invaria- bly revisit (what can be the attraction in many cases ?) their former abodes. 40. The heavenly bodies are in motion perpetually. 41. Not only did he find her busy, but pleased and happy ever. 42. I have done that which I have spoken to you of 43. I move the appointment of a committee to report what alterations are necessary to the next Convention. 44. They expect the overthrow of all the old traditions of a race, whose religion, customs, and laws run from time imme- morial, in the twinkling of an eye. 45. He was shocked that one who had in every way sought his love by gentle kindness, should be deprived of power and liberty by his own nearest kinsman. 46. Yet it was natural for him to conceal whatever sadness he might entertain on account of the misfortune of his friend, in the brilliant scenes of which he was the principal actor. 47. Both body and mind were patient under hardships, whether voluntary or under necessity endured. 48. The intimacy of a prince of the blood royal with com- mon persons would be noticed enough to build such traditions upon, and we may be sure, that had Henry really been guilty of drunkenness, burglary, and carousing, we should have had the fact duly authenticated by the gossiping chroniclers of the day. 49. Owen himself seems to have in a manner retired from the command, and to have delegated his authority to a brave lieutenant, Rees ap Griffith, who was not, however, inclined to resume that rash mode of warfare which had made Owen so famed a leader. 8 114 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 50. One of the most extraordinary men of that, perhaps of any age, appeared to annoy Henry the Fourth, from this time almost to the day of his death. 51. Thus Pedro threw away the very friendship without which he would still have been an exile, the alienation of which left him exposed without defence to that resistless home party, which still clung to his brother Henry. 52. Young men, said the professor, the preposition is a word you must never end the sentence with ! 53. Poverty wants some things, the avaricious want all things. 54. John tried to milk one cross cow while the men were at work on the other cows. 55. What is true of New York is likewise to be found in Boston. 56. The reason why Socrates was condemned to death was because of his unpopularity. 57. Refusing all money consideration, Portia and Nerissa would only accept the rings. 58. His appearance had that wholesome plainness about it which dispels suspicion at once. CHAPTER IV. FIGURES. Relation of the Subject to Those -which Precede. — Words are the brick and mortar, sentences are the finished walls, of the mental fabric. But Rhetoric, no less than archi- tecture, needs something more than bare walls. It has, equally with the sister art, its arabesques and mosaics, its arches and columns, its lights and shadows, its curious tracery, its lines of grace and beauty, — its appeal, in short, to the taste and the imagination. We wish, not only to express our meaning clearly and forcibly, bu t to expre ss— it_in— forms- which wilJ ma,ke_it _more agreeable and attractive. Among the means to this end, none are more conspicuous than those known as Figures. Definition of Figure. — A Figure, in Rhetoric, is some deviation from the plain and ordinary mode of expression, with the view of making the meaning more effective. An Example. — If we say, " That is strange," we use the plain, or- dinary mode of stating a fact. But if we say, " How strange that is !" the expression is changed from a mere assertion to an exclamation of surprise. It is therefore a figure, a form of speech different from the ordinary mode of expression. An Example of a Different Kind — In the phrase, " Now is the winter of our discontent," there is a figure, but it is of another kind. The form of the expression is not changed, but one of the words, " win- ter," is turned from its literal meaning, a season of the year, and is made to signify a condition of the human feelings. This changing or turn- ing away of a word from its literal meaning is called a Trope, from the Greek word tropos (tpottos), which means a turning. 115 116 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Figures and Tropes. — The ancients observed carefully the distinction between Figures and Tropes. But at pres- ent the one term, Figure, is commonly used to cover the whole subject, and to denote any deviation from the plain and ordinary mode of expression, whether in the form of the sentence, or in the meaning of a particular word. Figures not Unnatural. — Though Figures are thus some deviation from the ordinary mode of expression, it does not fol- low that they are forced or unnatural. Figures are not the in- ventions of rhetoricians, any more than the laws of language are the inventions of grammarians. As writers on grammar have observed how men speak, and from this have drawn the rules of speech, so writers on rhetoric have observed how men depart from the plain and ordinary mode of expression when they wish to give special force or vividness to their meaning, and have drawn from this observation the character and rules of figurative expression. The most illiterate men, as well as the most learned, speak in figures. No races, in fact, are so much addicted to the use of figurative language as the semi- barbarous and the savage. Whenever the imaginations of the multitude are awakened, or their passions inflamed, they pour forth their feelings in a torrent of figures. It is rare, indeed, that any one, learned or unlearned, civilized or savage, in a composed or in an excited state of mind, discourses for any length of time without the use of figures. Figurative expres- sions are as natural in discourse as color is in landscape. Origin of Figures. — The first source of figures is the inability of language to invent separate words for all shades of thought and feeling. Explanation. — The first words were terms denoting com- mon concrete objects and the customary actions of everyday life. As the ideas and experiences of men multiplied with civilization, it became impossible to invent a new term for each new idea or experience. Hence arose the device of using an old term to express a new idea resembling, or in some way related to, the old idea denoted by that term. Example. — The word dull in its primary meaning applies to an in- strument having an edge. But when we speak of an essay as being FIGURES— SIMILE. 117 " dull," we liken the mental effect of the essay to the material effect of an edged tool that is dull. Thus, instead of making a new word, we use the old word in a new and changed sense. This change is called a figure. A dull knife is literal. A duU essay is figurative. In this manner a large number of figurative uses of words have arisen. Mental operations es- pecially are most commonly expressed by words derived from sensible objects. Thus we speak of a piercing judgment, a dear head, a soft heart ; of one inflamed by anger, warmed by love, swelled with pride, melted with pity, and so on. Second Source. — The other and indeed the principal source of figures is the pleasure which they give. Explanation.— In this case we use figures, not because of the inadequacy of language, but because the figurative expres- sion is more agreeable than the Uteral one. We may have words at our command sufficient for expressing the plain, sim- ple meaning ; but we wish to convey that meaning in a pecu- liarly striking and attractive form. Examples. — Thus the sun becomes " the powerful king of day,'' youth is called " the morning of life," " gray hairs " means old age, the " sceptre " means the royal authority, and so on. Names of the Figures. — The most common figures are Simile, Metaphor, Allegory, Antithesis, Epigram, Me- tonymy, Synecdoche, Interrogation, Exclamation, Apos- trophe, Personification, Hyperbole, Irony. I. SIMILli. Simile, or Comparison, consists in formally likening one thing to another. Examples. — The condemnation of Socrates took him away in his full grandeur and glory, like the setting of a tropical sun. True ease in writing comes from art, not chance. As those move easiest who have learnt to dance. I have ventured, lAke little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory. Why Similes Please. — Similes please for various reasons: 1. First, we have by nature the disposition to compare objects 118 COMPOSITION AND BHETOEIC. with one another, and to trace the points of likeness or of un- hkeness between them. This disposition is common to all per-, sons. Even children take delight in exercising it, as soon as they are capable of discriminating objects. 2. Secondly, a simile usually makes the principal object plainer, or impresses it more forcibly on the mind. An au- thor, wishing to say that the memory of a certain person is both quick and retentive, makes the idea clearer and more forcible, and at the same time more agreeable to the reader, by expressing the thought thus : " His memory is like wax to receive impressions, and like marble to retain them." 3. Thirdly, by a skilful use of simile, the principal object may be embellished and made more agreeable by being associated with something of a superior character — something graceful, refined, dignified, grand, or beneficent. Thus : — The quality of mercy is not strained, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. After such a comparison we feel, not only that we are better acquainted with the character of mercy, but that we appreciate more fully its beneficence. Burlesque. — Similes are not always used to dignify and elevate an object. The aim of the writer may be, as in burlesque, to make a thing seem mean by comparing it to something low and degrading. Thus Butler says of Hudibras : — . . . 'T is known he could speak Greek As naturally as pigs squeak ; [And] Latin was no more diflBcile Than to a blackbird 't is to whistle. Thus also he burlesques morning : The sun had long since, in the lap Of Thetis, taken out his nap ; And, like a lobster boiled, the mom From black to red began to turn. Likeness of EflFect. — Though the essence of a simile con- sists in likeness, yet the likeness is not necessarily of a material kind. Two things may be alike, not because they look alike, or sound alike, or have any material qualities in common, but FIQ URES— SIMILE. 1 1 9 because they produce similar effects upon the mind. They raise similar trains of thought or feeling, or the remembrance of one strengthens in some way the impression produced by the other. This subtle likeness is often more pleasing than one which is more obvious to the senses. Example from Osslan — A certain simile of Ossian's has been much admired on this account. Of a particular strain of music, he says, it was " like the memory of joys that are past, pleasant and mournful to the soul." The effect here is much finer than if he had compared the music to the murmur of a stream, although in the latter case there would have been more of actual likeness. Mere Likeness does not of itself constitute a simile. There is no simile, in the rhetorical sense of that word, when one city is compared to another city, one house to another house, one man to another man, Napoleon to Caesar, Rothschild to Croesus. Such comparison is technically called a real comparison. In order that there may be a rhetorical simile, the objects com- pared must be of different classes. JExam/ples.—A. city, in the rapidity of its growth, may be likened to Jonah's gourd. Milton, describing the sudden erection of the huge fabric in Pandemonium, says, it "rose like an exhalation." A great warrior may be compared to a thunderbolt, or to a desolating tornado ; a sage, to a pillar of state. In each of these cases, there is a genuine figure, because there is a likeness of some sort between the objects com- pared, and at the same time the objects themselves are different in kind. The principal Rules to be observed in regard to the use of Similes are the following: Rule 1. Similes should not be drawn from things which have too near and obvious a resemblance to the object compared. Effect of Surprise. — One great pleasure of the act of com- paring lies in discovering likenesses which we had not expected. The simile in such cases gives us the pleasure of an agreeable surprise, a discovery. Examples. — Lover says, of a small, swarthy woman, " She's as short and as dark as a mid-winter day." Milton's comparisons nearly always have this quality of giving a surprise, besides that of filling the mind with ideas of majesty and grandeur. To give us some idea of the count- less number of the fallen host, he says they 120 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIC. Lay entranced Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks In Vallombrosa. Satan's imperial ensign, "full high advanced, shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind." Satan's own appearance, after his fall, is com- pared to that of the sun suffering an eclipse, and shedding disastrous twilight on the nations. Trite Similes. — Many similes, which were good enough when first used, are no longer available, because they have become commonplace by frequent use. Such similes are those comparing a hero to a lion, a mourner to a flower drooping its head, passion to a tempest, and so on. Rule 2. Similes should not be drawn from objects which present a likeness too faint and remote. Such similes are said to be far-fetched. Examples. — Some of the older poets erred frequently in this line. Thus Cowley, speaking of a friend, says that 'at night before retiring to sleep he washed away from his soul by tears all the stains it had re- ceived during the day, as the sun sets in water [the ocean] and is there- by kept unsullied : — StiU with his soul severe account he kept. Weeping all debts out ere he slept ; Then down in peace and innocence he lay, Like the sun's laborious light. Which still in water sets at night. Unsullied with the journey of the day. By a good deal of study and thought we can trace here some resem- blance between the two objects compared, that is, the man lying down at night bathed in tears, and the sun setting in the ocean ; but the re- semblance is faint, and requires entirely too much study. An example of more recent date is the following from Longfellow :— The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wing of night. As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. Rule 3. Similes should not be drawn from objects with which ordinary readers are unacquainted. "What is Excluded. — This rule excludes comparisons founded on recondite scientific discoveries, or on objects with FIGURES— SIMILE. 121 which persons of a certain trade only, or a certain profession, are conversant. In accordance with this rule, also, it is well to avoid drawing comparisons from ordinary objects in foreign countries, with which most readers are acquainted by reading only. Fartlier Cautions. — There are indeed certain noted objects, such as the Pyramids, the Alps, the Nile, the Tiber, Rome, Jerusalem, Lon- don, with which well-read people everywhere are familiar. But in gen- eral, writers should take their illustrations from objects which exist in their own country, and which they and their readers have seen or heard. It is well enough for English poets to sing of the nightingale, whose high note is heard from the boughs in the stillness of midnight, and of the skylark, which at "break of day sings hymns at heaven's gate;" but American poets and readers know nothing of either bird except from books. Rule 4. Similes should not, in serious discourse, be drawn from objects which are mean or low. This rule does not apply to satirical and humorous writings. In such writings, the very aim of the author is to bring an ob- ject into ridicule or contempt, by associating it in the mind with something absurd. But in ordinary discourse, the aim is just the opposite ; care should be taken accordingly that the objects to which anything is compared should be elevating. Rule 5. Similes should not be drawn from great or sub- lime objects, when we are describing what is ordinary or trivial. Such comparisons may be proper in mock-heroic, or bur- lesque, but not in serious composition. A popular orator, speaking of one of our common anniversary-days, uses the following language : " Pharos of the ages, we hail thy glim- merings 'mid the cataracts of Time." Rule 6. Similes abounding in detail are inappropriate when intense passion is to be expressed. To pause for the purpose of hunting up curious likenesses, implies leisure and deliberation ; and passion, just in propor- tion to its intensity, is rapid and unhesitating. It has no dis- position to cast about for resemblances. 122 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. The hero in Addison's Cato, in a moment of violent anguish at the separation from his lady-love, makes the following elaborate compari- son, which, under the circumstances, cannot be regarded otherwise than as affected: — Thus o'er the dying lamp th' unsteady flame Hangs quiv'ring on a point, leaps off by fits. And falls again, as loth to quit its hold. n. METAPHOR. Metaphor, no less than Simile, is founded upon a re- semblance between objects. Hence it is frequently called an abridged Simile. But there is this distinction, that in Metaphor we directly substitute the action or operation of one object for that of the other. Difference bet^ween Metaphor and Simile. — If we say of a great statesman, " He upholds the state, like the pillar which upholds an edifice," we make the comparison by a Simile. If we say of him, " He is the pillar of the state," we make the same comparison by a Metaphor. In simile, the comparison is usually expressed by like, as, such as, or words of similar import. In metaphor, the comparison, if made at all, is not formally ex- pressed in words. One object is assumed to be so like another, that qualities and actions properly belonging to the one are attributed to the other ; we do not stop to draw a formal com- parison between them, in fact we are scarcely conscious of in- tending any comparison. We are conscious of the substituted object alone. Effectiveness of Metaphor. — Metaphor is, by its very nature, much more rapid and intense than simile. Metaphor, indeed, of all the figures, come nearest to painting, enabling us to give to the most abstract ideas form, color, and life. A few examples will show the power of metaphor. Simile : As, in passing through a prism, beams of white light are decomposed into the colors of the rainbow ; so, in traversing the soul of the poet, the colorless rays of truth are transformed into bright-tinted poetry. Meta/plior: "The white light of truth, in traversing the many- sided transparent soul of the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry."— Herbert Spencer. FIGURES— SIMILE. 123 Simile : The temper of the nation, loaded already with grievances, was like a vessel that is now full, and this additional provocation, like the last drop infused, made their rage and resentment as waters of bit- terness overflow. Metaphor: " The vessel was now full, and this last drop made the waters of bitterness overflow." — Bolingbroke. Metaphor: " Heaven saw fit to ordain, that the electric spark of lib- erty should be conducted, through you, from the New World to the Old." — Webster {Apostrophe to Lafayette). "The croaking and hollow tones of the old lady, and the pleasant voice of Phcebe, mingling in one twisted thread of talk." — Hawthorne. "Thralia [Mrs. Thrale], a bright papUionaceous creature, whom the elephant [Johnson] loved to play with and wave to and fro upon his trunk." — Carlyle. Rules for Simile and for Metaphor. — The rules which have been given for the Simile apply, in the main, to the Meta- phor also. Metaphors should not be drawn from things having too near and obvious a resemblance, from things in which the likeness is too faint or remote, from things vs^ith which ordinary readers are unacquainted, from objects mean and low, or from objects too far above that which they are intended to illustrate. Metaphors, however, are often used for the expression of strong feeling. They are, in fact, the characteristic mode of express- ing passion and vivid imagination, and in this respect differ from similes. The rules which more particularly limit the use of the Meta- phor are the following : — Rule 1. The metaphorical and the literal should not be mixed in the same sentence. Rule Explained. — A metaphor having been introduced into a sentence, all parts of the sentence should be made to conform to the figure thus introduced. This rule is violated when some of the words are applicable to this figure, and some are literal. Examples. — Dryden says, speaking of the aids he had had in some of his literary labors, " I was sailing in a vast ocean [metaphor], without other help than the pole-star [metaphor continued] of the ancients, and the rules of the French stage [literal] among the moderns." In Pope's translation of Homer, Penelope, speaking of the loss of her husband, and then of the abrupt departure of her son, says : 124 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Long to my joys my dearest lord is lost, His country's buckler, and the Grecian boast ; Now, from my fond embrace by tempests torn, Our other column [met.] of the state is borne, Nor took a kind adieu, nor sought consent. Here her son is figured in one line as a column, and in the next he is a person who is supposed to take adieu, and to ask consent. This is incongruous. It is mixing up the metaphorical and the literal in the same construction. Having spoken of Telemachus under the metaphor of a column, the author should not have ascribed to him in that sen- tence anything but what could be ascribed to a column. " Boyle was the father of Chemistry, and brother to the Earl of Cork." Rule 2. Two different metaphors should not be used, in close connection, in reference to the same subject. This produces what is called mixed metaphor, and is a worse fault even than mixing the metaphorical and the literal in the same sentence. Exam/pies. — I Iridle in my struggling muse with pain. That longs to launch into a bolder strain. The muse, figured as a horse, may be " bridled ;" but when we speak of "launching," we make it a ship. The author bridles it to keep it from launching! Obituary notice of a dead baby : Our little rose-bud has flown. Observed the mixing of metaphors in the following passage: "The shot of the enemy mowed down our ranks with frightful rapidity. On every hand men and horses lay in universal carnage, like scattered wrecks on a storm-beaten shore." " Those whose minds are dull and heavy do not easily penetrate into the folds and intricacies of an afiair, and therefore can only scum off what they find at the top." — Here the mind has, first, to think of the literal fact, namely, that dull people do not easily penetrate the difficulties of a subject ; next, to think of this fact under the metaphor of handling the outer folds of a bale of cloth, without getting at the inside ; and then again to think of the same fact under the metaphor of skimming an impure liquid without reaching the bottom. Rule 3. Metaphors should not be multiplied to excess. Explanation, — Though the metaphors may refer to different FIGURES— ALLEGORY. 125 subjects, and may be in different sentences, and therefore not come under the operation of the preceding rule, yet if they are too frequent they confuse the mind with a multiplicity of shift- ing objects. Excessive Use of Figures.— The effect of unduly multi- plying metaphors is very much like that produced by being over-dressed. This is true, not of metaphor merely, but of every kind of figure. Figures, whether for ornament or for illustration, to have their proper effect, must be used with moderation. Really good metaphors, occurring only here and there, at judicious intervals, and on suitable subjects, have a brilliant effect. But if multiplied too much, no matter how sparkling each may be in itself, they produce only a disagree- able glitter. Rule 4. Metaphors should not be carried too far. This fault is committed when the resemblance on which the metaphor is founded is carried out into a great many minute and tiresome details. This is called straining the metaphor. Ikeample Young says of old age, that it should Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon ; And put good works on board ; and wait the wind That shortly blows us into worlds unknown. The expression in the first two lines is much admired. But when the author begins to "put good works on board," and to "wait the wind," the metaphor loses dignity. Instead of the deep emotion excited by walking " thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore," the mind is brought down to the prosaic and calculating operations of a seafaring enterprise. With this contrast the following, from Tennyson's " Crossing the Bar :" Sunset and evening star. And one clear call for me ! And may there be no moaning of the bar. When I put out to sea. m. ALLEGORY. An Allegory is a metaphorical story, in which the ac- tions and experiences of one object are narrated under the image of another object. 126 COMPOSITION AND BHBTORIC. Difference between Allegory and Metaphor. — Allegory differs from Metaphor in three respects. First, it is presented with a variety of particulars, making a connected story. Sec- ondly, it suppresses all mention of the principal object, leaving us to infer the writer's intention. Thirdly, it teaches an evi- dent moral. Points in Common. — Allegory, Metaphor, and Simile have this in common, that they are all founded in resemblance. In Simile, this resemblance is expressed in form, as when it is said, " Israel is like a vine, brought from Egypt, and planted in Pales- tine." In Metaphor the formal comparison is dropped, as when it is said, " Israel is a vine brought from Egypt," etc. In Alle- gory, a story is told of one object, and the reader's imagination is called upon to apply the teaching of the story to another object. The following allegory occurs in the eightieth Psalm : — " Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt : thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou preparedst room for it, and didst cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow of it, and the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedai'S. She sent out her boughs unto the sea, and her branches unto the river. Why hast thou broken down her hedges, so that all they which pass by the way do pluck her ? The boar out of the wood doth waste it, and the wild beast of the field doth devour it." Here every circumstanoe,»except that of casting out the heathen, an- swers to the description of a vine, while at the same time God's dealings with the Jewish people, though not once named, are plainly suggested to the mind of the reader. If the Psalmist, instead of saying that the vine was wasted by the boar from the wood, and devoured by the wild beasts, had said that it was afldicted by heathens, or overcome by enemies, (which was his real meaning), he would have spoiled the allegory. Allegory, Parable, and Fable are closely akin to each other, and these terms are often interchanged. Some dis- tinctions, however, are worthy of notice. Allegory is the only term applicable to extended works of this kind, such as The Pilgrim's Progress and The Faery Queen. Shorter alle- gorical compositions are more frequently called Fables, or Para- bles, the latter term being specially used for specimens of this kind in the Holy Scriptures. The story told by Jotham, in the ninth chapter of Judges, of the trees choosing for themselves a king, is called a Parable. Had it occurred in jEsop, it would FIGUBES— ANTITHESIS. 127 have been called a Fable. None of these distinctions, how- ever, in regard to the allegory, the parable, and the fable are absolute. Where Found. — Oriental nations are much addicted to the use of this kind of writing, and there are many excellent in- stances of it in the Bible. There are no Parables comparable for excellence to those in the New Testament. Among the ancients the Fables of ^sop are especially famous. The most famous Allegory in English literature is The Pilgrim's Progress, by Bunyan. Rvile. — The principal, almost the only rule, in regard to Allegory, is to avoid mingling the literal signification with the figurative. IV. ANTITHESIS. Antithesis is the direct opposite of the figures thus far considered. It is founded on contrast ; it consists in put- ting two unlike things in juxtaposition, so that each will appear more striking by the contrast. The effect- produced is in accordance with a general law of mental action, that all objects of knowledge make a stronger impression on the mind when presented alongside of their op- posites. White never appears so bright as when bordering immediately upon black. Sound never seems so loud as when preceded and followed by perfect silence. Examples of Antithesis. — " The prodigal robs hia heir, the miser robs hiraself." " The Puritans hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectator." Rule. — The only practical Rule in regard to Antithesis is to express the contrasted ideas in words, of the same grammatical class. Nouns should be contrasted with nouns, adjectives with adjectives, verbs with verbs ; also the order of words in the contrasted clauses should be as nearly alike as possible. The reason for this rule is obvious. If two objects, one white and one black, are placed side by side, the difference between them m color will be all the more striking if the objects are in 128 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. other respects alike, that is, are of the same material, size, and shape. So in composition, the point of an antithesis consists in making the contrasted clauses analogous in construction. Exam/pies.— It you regulate your desires according to the standard of nature, you will never be poor ; if according to the standard of opin- ion, yon will never be rich. Mattery brings friends ; truth brings foes. Forewarned, forearmed. Enemies in war ; in peace, friends. Caution. — Antithesis must be used in moderation. If em- ployed too frequently, it makes the style labored and unnatural, and produces the impression that the author is less concerned with what he says than how he says it. It also makes the mat- ter read like a string of proverbs, which are usually in the an- tithetical form. Exam/pie. — The following passage may be given as an illustration : " The peasant complains aloud ; the courtier in secret repines. In want, what distress ! in affluence, what satiety ! The great are under as much difficulty to expend with pleasure, as the mean to labor with success. The ignorant, through ill-grounded hope, are disappointed; the know- ing, through knowledge, despond. Ignorance occasions mistake; mis- take, disappointment; and disappointment is misery. Knowledge, on the other hand, gives true judgment ; and true judgment of human things gives a demonstration of their insufficiency to our peace." Effect of such Passages. — Passages like this invariably weary the reader. The effect is like that of multiplying em- phatic words in reading aloud or in declaiming. So many things are made striking, that nothing strikes. The following passage is a fine example of Antithesis, Apos- trophe, and Personification combined : — Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow : The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true." V. EPIGRAM. Epigram meant originally an inscription on a monu- ment. As such inscriptions are usually short, containing as much as possible in a few words, Epigram came next FIG TIRES— METONYMY. 129 to mean any brief saying, prose or poetical, remarkable for brevity and point ; the word is still used in this sense. Special Meaning.— There is one particular mode by which a startling effect is produced, and that is by a contradiction be- tween the form of expression and the meaning really intended. Take the expression, " The child is father to the man." Here the language, taken literally, contradicts itself; yet the mean- ing is plain enough, and is all the more striking for being pre- sented in this form. The term Epigram is now sometimes used to express this particular mode of giving brevity and point to a thought. Relation of Epigram to Antithesis. — Epigram, in this sense, is akin to Antithesis, because in both of these figures there is the element of contrariety. But in Antithesis it is the contrariety between two different things brought together ; in Epigram it is the contrariety between the apparent meaning of the words and the real meaning. Examples of this kind of Epigram : — Beauty, when unadorned, adorned the most. Conspicuous for its absence. We could not see the woods for the trees. Verbosity is cured by a wide vocabulary. Language is the art of concealing thought. Epigram, in the sense above explained, consists mainly in a play upon words, and so leads naturally to Pun, which turns entirely upon using words in a double meaning. This will be considered in the following chapter. VI. METONYMY. Metonymy is a figure in which the name of one object is put for some other object, the two being so related that the mention of one naturally suggests the other. Example. — When it is said, "The drunkard loves his bottle,'' we know that it is not the bottle, hut what it contains, that the drunkard loves. The bottle is put for the liquor, the container for the thing con- tained, and this change of name is a Metonymy. Metonymies are very numerous in kind, and occur more fre- quently perhaps than any other figure of speech. Among the 130 COMPOSITION AND BBETORIC. various relations which give rise to Metonymy are the fol- lowing: Cause and Effect, Subject and Attribute, Container and thing contained, Sign and thing signified, etc. Cause for Effect. — " He writes a beautiful hand," that is, " hand- writing." "I am reading Milton" that is, his works. "The pen [litera- ture] is the great civllizer." In like manner, in old times, the names of the mythological deities were put for the qualities or things which they symbolized, as Bacchus for wine, Ceres for bread, Pallas for wisdom, Mars for war, Venus for love, Neptune for the ocean, etc. Effect for Cause. — " Gray hairs [old age] should be respected." " There is death [a death-causing thing] in the pot." " Man shall live by the sweat of his brow" [by the labor which causes sweat upon the brow]. "Cold death" that which makes its subject cold. "Drowsy night," that which produces drowsiness. Container for thing contained.—" The kettle [the water in the kettle] boils." " He keeps a good table." " They smote the city." " Ye devour widows' houses." " The House was called to order." " He smokes his pipe." The Sign for the thing signified. — "He assumed the sceptre." [the sovereignty]. " At the present day, bayonets think." " In war the bullet, in peace the ballot rules." " The pen is mightier than the sword." Vn. SYNECDOCHE. Synecdoche is a figure somewhat akin to Metonymy. In Metonymy we use the name of an object to signify some other connected object, as when we say bottle, but mean the liquor contained in it. In Synecdoche we do not transfer a name from one object to another, but we give to an object a name which literally expresses some- thing more or something less than we intend. Examples. — We speak of a sail, or of a keel, meaning thereby a whole ship. A part is taken for a whole. We speak of the world, when we mean only a certain limited portion of the people who compose the world. Here a whole is used for a part. The most common form of the figure is that in which a part is taken for the whole, as sail for ship, head for person, waves for sea, blood for life, hands for workmen, lances for horsemen, etc. "I abjure all roofs" [houses]. "She has seen six- teen summers" [years]. "An old man of eighty winters" [years]. "Thirty sail [ships] were seen off the coast." FIGURES— EXCLAMATION. 131 Vm. INTEEROGATION. Interrogation Explained. — We often ask a question, not for the purpose of receiving information, but as a mode of ex- pressing our own opinion more strongly. It is as much as to say, — There is but one possible answer to this question. Example. — "Who goeth a warfare at any time at his own charges? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock?" — The apostle does not ask these questions for the sake of learning anything on the subject, but as an emphatic way of saying that those who enter military or any other service expect to be at least maintained. It is a thing that admits of no question. Definition. — By Interrogation, then, as a rhetorical figure, is meant putting our opinions in the form of questions, for the purpose thereby of expressing our views more positively and vehemently. The figure is much used in the Bible. Peculiarities. — In regard to this figure two peculiarities are to be observed. 1. A negative Interrogation affirms. " Am I not an apostle? am I not free? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord ? are not ye my work in the Lord ?" Paul here intends to affirm these several points as being true beyond question. 2. An affirmative question denies. " Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? are we stronger than He?" This is equivalent to saying, with strong emphasis, "We do rwt provoke the Lord to jealousy ; we are rmt stronger than He." VS.. EXCLAMATION. Exclamation is a figure akin to Interrogation. Instead of stating a fact simply and calmly, the writer or speaker utters an expression of surprise, or of emotion, on seeing that the thing is so. Exclamation, therefore, is a figure which expresses a thing strongly by expressing the speaker's emotion on account of it. "This is a sad event," is a plain, literal statement. "What a sad event !" is the same thing figuratively expressed with emotion. Caution.— Exclamation is suitable only in cases of real emotion. A common mistake of feeble writers is to imagine 132 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. that they make a passage emotional by merely throwing it into the form of an exclamation, although the thought itself is per- fectly simple and commonplace. Such a use of the figure, in- stead of making the composition more animated, makes it frigid. An author who is all the while calling upon us to enter into transports, when he says nothing to inspire them, only disgusts us. The occasions which justify the use of Exclamation are com- paratively rare, and writers should be correspondingly careful in resorting to it. An experienced reader, who on opening a new book sees its pages thickly bespangled with exclamation points, is apt to lay the book aside without further exami- nation. When properly used, however, this figure is one of great value and power. Lyric and Dramatic poetry abounds with examples. " A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse !" — Richard III. " 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 !" — Hamlet. " How is the gold become dim ! how is the most fine gold changed !" Jeremiah. X. APOSTROPHE. Definition. — The same excited state of feeling which causes Exclamation leads also to Apostrophe. The word means a turning away. It is a figure in which we turn from the regular course of thought, and instead of con- tinuing to speak of an object in the third person, speak to it in the second person. In Apostrophe we address the absent as if present, the in- animate as if animated, the dead as if living. Apostrophe indicates usually a high degree of emotion. Thus King David, on hearing of the death of Ab-salom, exclaims : "0, my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom ! would God I had died for thee, Absalom, my son, my son !" Another Apostrophe, more ex- tended, and equally beautiful, is the lament of David over the death of Jonathan. (2 Sam. i. 21-27.) FIGURES— PERSONIFICATION. 133 . Apostrophe is not always thus passionate. It sometimes re- sults from an exalted state of the imagination, and in such cases is capable of being sustained through a much longer passage than when resulting from intense emotion. Byron's apostrophe to the ocean, Childe Harold, iv. 179-184, is an in- stance. XI. PERSONIFICATION. Personiflcation consists in attributing life to things in- animate. Personification Distinguishable from Apostrophe. — Personification and Apostrophe often go together. They are distinguishable, however. In Apostrophe, we often address things inanimate, and when we do so, we necessarily personify them ; as (Jer. xlvii. 6), " O thou sword of the Lord, how long will it be ere thou be quiet ? put up thyself into thy scabbard, rest, and be still." Here both figures occur. The sword is at the same time addressed and personified. But there may be Apostrophe without Personification, as in the lament of David at the death of Absalom. The object there addressed, being already a person, cannot be personified. Personiflcation, more- over, may exist where there is no Apostrophe. The object may be spoken of as a person, instead of being spoken to. This kind of Personification is much the most common form of the figure, and abounds in almost every species of composition. "The mountains sing together, the hills rejoice, and clap their hands." When Eve plucked the forbidden fruit and ate it, Milton says : — " Earth felt the wound ; and Nature from her seat Sighing, through all her works gave signs of woe." Special Facilities in English. — We have in English special facilities for the use of this figure, in consequence of the pecu- liarity of our language in regard to gender. In most languages, masculine and feminine are attributed indiscriminately to ani- mate and inanimate objects, to persons and to things. In Latin, for instance, the words for ocean, river, mountain, garden, and _field, are masculine ; the words for island, tree, vwon, star, night, and light, are feminine. But in English the masculine and femi- nine genders are limited to living beings that have sex, and the M 134 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIC. masculine and feminine pronouns are used only in reference to. such beings, that is, to persons and the more distinguished ani- mals. Hence the use of these pronouns is associated with the idea of personality. In the ^sentence, " Nature through all her works gave signs of woe," the feminine pronoun gives notice to us that Nature is personified. In this way, by simply using the masculine and feminine pronouns in reference to inanimate objects, we may at any time introduce a touch of personifica- tion, and thus give a slight elevation to the style. "The sun rose in his splendor." " Religion sheds upon us her benign influence." Personification is of various degrees. The lowest form of Personification is that produced by ad- jectives. In this form, the qualities of living beings are ascribed to inanimate objects. We speak of a raging storm, a deceitful disease, a eruel disaster, a dying lamp, the smiling year, tlie thirsty ground. A form of Personification somewhat higher than the fore- going is that produced by verbs. In this form, inanimate objects are introduced as performing the actions of living beings. " The mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into sing- ing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." (Isa. Iv. 12.) These two lower kinds of Personification are a species of Metaphor. They may be used when there is only a slight de- gree of elevation above the ordinary tenor of discourse. The third and highest form of Personification is that in which it is combined with Apostrophe. " Put on thy strength, O Zion ; put on thy beautiful garments, Jerusalem, the holy city." (Isa. lii. 1.) A fine example of this occurs in Wordsworth's Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle : — Armour rusting in his halls On the blood of Clifford calls ; — " Quell the Scot," exclaims the Lance — " Bear me to the heart of France," Is the longing of the Shield — " TeU thy nanle, thou trembling Field ; FIG URES— HYPERBOLE. 135 Field of death, where'er thou be, Groan thou with our victory !" This highest form of the figure should be used only in eases of strong emotion. Xn. HYPERBOLE. Hyperbole is exaggeration. It consists in representing things to be either greater or less, better or worse, than they really are. The object of hyperbole is to make the thought more effective by overstating it. In genuine hyperbole, moreover, there is some other figure of speech : synecdoche, simile, metaphor, or personification. Exag- geration alone does not constitute genuine hyperbole. Xitsam/ples. — " So frowned the mighty combatants that Hell Grew darker at their frown." " Behind them, like a giant of league-long strides, came hurrying the thunderstorm.'' " Her eyes . . . seemed like Artesian wells, down, down, into the infinite." " The front garden was no bigger than a napkin.'' As a specimen of mere exaggeration, without any figurative element and therefore not genuine hyperbole, we may take Macaulay's presentation of literary Bohemia in England in the first half of the eighteenth century : "All the vices of the gambler and of the beggar were blended with those of the author." There is a further distinction. In hyperbole the writer not only knows that he is distorting the literal truth, but counts upon the reader's detecting the device and allowing for it; whereas in exaggeration the writer is often, perhaps usually, unconscious of exaggeration, — he may really believe what he says, and may expect his readers to believe it. The student may contrast the exaggeration quoted above from Macaulay with the following humorous hyperbole from Hawthorne : — " On this particular afternoon, so excessive was the warmth of Judge Pyncheon's kindly aspect that (such at least was the rumor about town) an extra passage of the water-carts was found essential, in order to lay the dust occasioned by so much extra sunshine I" 136 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. Xm. IRONY. Irony consists in ridiculing jin object under a pretence of praising it. The language in its literal acceptation is exactly the opposite of what the author means. The true meaning is indicated mainly by the tone of the voice, the words being spoken with a sneer. But there is always something, either in the construction of the sentence, or in the attendant circumstances, to show that the words are to be taken ironically, not literally. Irony is a very effective weapon of attack, the form of the language being such as scarcely to admit of reply. The Bible contains some striking examples of Irony. Job says (lii. 2), " No doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you !" Elijah (1 Kings xvii. 27) says tauntingly to the priests of Baal, "Cry aloud : for he is a god ; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be waked !" Cicero calls Verres, who was notorious for his rapacity, " The upright and honest praetor of Sicily !" A common error in the training of children is thus ridiculed : " Al- though I would have you early instil into your children's hearts the love of cruelty, yet by no means call it by its true name, but encourage them in it under the name of fun." Antony's speech over the dead body of Csesar, in the play of Julius Caesar, contains one of the finest specimens of Irony : — Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, (For Brutus is an horwrdble man, So are they all, all honorable men). Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me ; Biit Brutus says he was ambitious ; And Bruius is an honorable man. Some Additional Figures. The following modes of expression are also classified by some writers among Figures : Climax and Anti-Climax, Euphemism, Litotes, Alliteration, Allusion, Vision. Olitnax and Anti-Climax, see pp. 100, 101. Euphemism consists in mentioning disagreeable things under names supposed to be inoffensive. As : FIGURES-EXAMPLES. . 137 " His face and hands showed that they and clean water had long been strangers." Litotes consists in making a statement by denying the opposite. As : — One of the great, the immortal names That were not born to die. That is, were born to live. Alliteration is more usual as an adjunct to Metre (see chap- ter on Metre, p. 181), but is also common in prose, e.g., in such phrases as " bed and board," " to have and to hold," etc. Allusion may be called a metaphor in disguise. It consists in a reference to some well-known event or fact in history, or to some well-known expression. Examples : — " The self-seeking will betray his friend with a Judas-kiss." " This is a new kingdom of science, this embryology, but you have to enter it through a strait gate and a narrow way." Vision consists in treating the past, the future, or the remote as if present in time and place. Much of the book of Ezekiel is a vision of the remote and the future. So also is the book of Revelation. Among historical writers Carlyle is the one most given to the use of vision. Not infrequently he repre- sents himself as mingling with the actors in a prominent his- torical event, overhearing their words, divining their thoughts, and announcing their plans. Thus he recounts one of the events in the war against Charles I. : — " Basing is black ashes, then : and Longford is ours, the garrison ' to march forth to-morrow at twelve of the clock, being the 18th instant.' And now the question is. Shall we attack Bennington, or not?" Examples for Practice. [The passages which follow contain figures of various kinds. The student should be required, first to point out and analyze the figure or figures in each passage, and then to express their meaning in plain language without figure. He should also be reminded that many pas- sages are figurative in a double sense. That is to say, a certain group of words, viewed from one side, may be classified as one figure; but if viewed from another side, may be classified as another figure. This dualism has been already mentioned in the remarks upon Personifica- tion ; but it is by no means confined to Personification and Apostrophe.] 138 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 1. And it shall come to pass in that day that the mountains shall drop down new wine, and the hills shall flow with milk. — Joel iii. 18. 2. Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Pooled by those rebel powers that thee array. Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth. Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? Why so large cost, having so short a lease. Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge ? is this thy body's end ? — Shakespeare. 3. When Israel went out of Egypt, the house of Jacob from a people of strange language, Judah was his sanctuary, and Israel his dominion. The sea saw it, and fled : Jordan was driven back. The mountains skipped like rams, and the little hills like lambs. What ailed thee, O thou sea, that thou fled- dest ? thou Jordan, that thou wast driven back ? ye mountains, that ye skipped like rams, and ye little hills, like lambs ? Trem- ble, thou earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob. — Ps. cxiv. 1-7. 4. Strange cozenage ! none would live past years again. Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain. And from the dregs of life think to receive What the flrst sprightly running could not give. — Dryden. 5. The " first sprightly running " of Dryden's vintage was, it must be confessed, a little muddy, if not beery ; but if his own soil did not produce grapes of the choicest flavor, he knew where they were to be had ; and his product, like sound wine, grew better the longer it stood upon the lees. — Lowell. 6. We always feel his [Dryden's] epoch in him, that he was the lock which let our language down from its point of highest poetry to its level of easiest and most gentle flowing prose. — Lowell. 7. Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again ; The eternal years of God are here ; But Error, wounded, writhes with pain. And dies among his worshippers. — Bryant. • FIGURES—EXAMPLES. 139 8. The smoothness of too many rhymed pentameters is that of thin ice over shallow water ; so long as we glide along rapidly, all is well ; but if we dwell a moment on any one spot, we may find ourselves knee-deep in mud. — Lmuell. 9. Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles. Such as hang on Hebe's cheek. And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.— Mtore. 10. Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed their present state. — Pope. 11- Weariness Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth Finds the down-pUlow hard. — Shakespeare. 12. Her tresses, loose behind. Play on her neck, and wanton in the wind ; The rising blushes which her cheek o'erspread Are opening roses in the lily's bed. — Gay. 13. Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death. — Young. 14. Who builds his hope in air of your good looks, Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast ; Keady, with every nod, to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep. — Shakespeare. 15. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. — Romans viii. 38, 39. 16. The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made. Waller. 140 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIO. 17. I scarcely understand my own intent ; But, silk-worm like, so long within have wrought, That I am lost in my own web of thought. — Dryden. 18. Our Garrick's a salad, for in him we see Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree. — Goldsmith. 19. Words are the common property of all men, yet from words those architects of immortality pile up temples that shall outlive pyramids : the leaf of the papyrus shall become a Shinar, stately with towers, round which the Deluge of ages roars in vain. 20. Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long, E'en wondered at because he dropt no sooner ; Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years ; Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more. Till, like a clock worn out with eating Time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still. — Ih-yden. 21. His [Dryden's] phrase is always a short cut to his sense, for his estate was too spacious for him to need that trick of winding the path of his thought about, and planting it out with clumps of epithet by which the landscape-gardeners of litera- ture give to a paltry half-acre the air of a -paxk.— Lowell. 22. Am I not an apostle ? am I not free ? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord ? are not ye my work in the Lord ? have we not power to eat and to drink ? have we not power to lead about a sister, a wife, as well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the Lord, and Cephas ? Or I only and Barnabas, have not we power to forbear working ? Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock ? Say I these things as a man, or saith not the law the same also ? — 1 Cor. ix. 1-8. 23. Save me, O God ! for the waters are come into my soul. I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing : I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.^ — Ps. Ixix. 1, 2. 24. As smoke is driven away, so drive them away : as wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God.— Ps. Ixviii. 2. FIG URES— EXAMPLES. 141 25. We do not mean what is technically called a living lan- guage, — the contrivance, hollow as a speaking-trumpet, by which breathing and moving bipeds, even now, sailing o'er life's solemn main, are enabled to hail each other and make known their mutual shortness of mental stores, — but one that is stUl hot from the hearts and brains of a people, not hardened yet, but moltenly ductile to new shapes of sharp and clear re- lief in the moulds of new thoughts. — Lowell. 26. As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. — Ps. xlii. 1. 27. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breast-plate of righteousness, and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace ; above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of sal- vation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. —Ephes vi. 14r-17. 28. Her angel's face. As the great eye of heaven, shined bright. And made a sunshine in the shady place ; Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace. Spenser. 29. Love is the ladder on which we climb To a likeness with God. 30. I, writing thus, am still what men call young ; I have not so far left the coasts of life To travel inland, that I cannot hear That murmur of the water infinite Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep, When wondered at for smiling. — Mrs. Browning. 31. The mountains saw thee, and they trembled: the over- flowing of the water passed by : the deep uttered his voice, and lifted up his hands on high. — Habakkuk iii. 10. 32. The depth said, It is not in me : and the sea saith. It is not with me. — Job xxviii. 14. 33. In truth, we are under a deception similar to that which misleads the traveller in the Arabian desert. Beneath the cara- van, all is dry and bare ; but far in advance, and far in the rear. 142 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. is the semblance of refreshing waters. The pilgrims hasten forward, and find nothing but sand where, an hour before, they had seen a lake. They turn their eyes, and see a lake where, an hour before, they were toiling through sand.— MamMlay. 34. For weeks the clouds had raked the hills And vexed the vales with raining. And all the woods were sM with mists. And all the brooks complaining. At last, a sudden night-storm tore The mountain-veils asunder, And swept the valleys clean before The besom of the thunder. — Whittier. 35. Hamlet is continually drawing bills on the future, secured by his promise of himself to himself, which he can never re- deem. — Lowell. 36. I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams Tumultuous, where my wrecked, desponding thought From wave to wave of fancied misery At random drove, her helm of reason lost. — Young. 37. Deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat, and public care. — Milton. 38. Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written tablets of the brain ; Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? — Shakespeare. 39. My way of life Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf — Shakespeare. 40. 'Tis with our judgments as our watches : none Are just alike, yet each believes his own. — Pope. 41. His tongue Dropped manna, and could make the worst appear The better reason, to perplex and dash Maturest counsels. — Milton. FIGURES-EXAMPLES. 143 42. Oh ! as the bee upon the flower, I hung Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue. — Buhner. 43. "lis an old maxim in the schools, That flattery's the food of fools ; Yet now and then your men of wit Will condescend to take a bit. — Smft. 44. I've touched the highest point of all my greatness ; And from the full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting. — Shakespeare. 45. Of praise a mere glutton, he swallowed what came. And the pufi" of a dunce, he mistook it for fame ; Till, his relish grown callous almost to disease, Who peppered the highest was surest to please. Goldsmith. 46. She looks as clear As morning roses, newly washed in dew. — Shakespeare. 47. Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. — Milton. 48. He cast off" his friends as a huntsman his pack. For he knew when he wished he could whistle them back. . Goldsmith. 49. Love is a sudden blaze which sooii decays ; Friendship is like the sun's eternal rays ; Not daily benefits exhaust the flame : It still is giving, and still burns the same. — Gay. 50. Friendship is not a plant of hasty growth. Though planted in esteem's deep fixfed soil; The gradual culture of kind intercourse Must bring it to perfection. — Joanna Baillie. 51. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form. Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm ; Tho' round its breast the rolling clouds are spread. Eternal sunshine settles on its head. — Goldsmith. 52. To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land. And read their history in a nation's eyes. — Gray. 144 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 53. He, who ascends to mountain-tops shall find Their loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; He, who surpasses or subdues mankind. Must look down on the hate of those below. Tho' far above the sun of glory glow. And far beneath the earth and ocean spread. Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow .Contending tempests on his naked head. — Byron. 54. Whose game was empires, and whose stakes were thrones, Whose table earth, whose dice were human bones. Byron. 55. Presence of mind is greatly promoted by absence of body. 56. My life is a wreck. I drift before the chilling blasts of adversity ; friends, home, wealth — I've lost them all. 57. Born, lived, and died, sum up the great epitome of man. 58. Men dying make their wills, but wives Escape a task so sad ; Why should they make what all their lives The gentle dames have had ? 59. If you blow your neighbor's fire, don't complain if the sparks fly in your face. 60. earth, so fiill of dreary noises ! O men, with wailing in your voices ! O delvfed gold, the wallers' heap ! strife, O curse, that o'er it fall ! God makes a silence through you all. And " giveth his beloved sleep." — Mrs. Browning. 61. dark and cruel deep, reveal The secret that thy waves conceal ! And ye wild sea-birds hither wheel And tell it me. 62. I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep thro' her marble halls, 1 saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls. — Longfellow. FIGURES— EXAMPLES. 145 63. O'erhead the countless stars Like eyes of love were beaming, Underneath the weary earth All breathless lay a-dreaming. The foxglove shoots out the green matted heather, And hangeth her hoods of snow, She was idle and slept till the sunshiny weather, But children take longer to grow. — Jean Ingelow. 64. When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the Equinox, Landward in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges Laden -snth sea-weeds from the rocks. — Longfelhw. 65. Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ?— Shakespeare. 66. The twilight hours like birds flew by, As lightly and as free ; Ten thousand stars were in the sky. Ten thousand in the sea : For every wave with dimple cheek That leaped upon the air, Had caught a star in its embrace, And held it trembling there. 67. Humor runs throvigh his speeches like violets in a har- vest-field, giving sweet odor and beauty to his task when he stoops to put in the sickle. 68. Ignorance is the curse of God, knowledge the wing where- with we fly to heaven. — Shakespeare. 69. Reflected in the lake, I love To see the stars of evening glow. So tranquil in the heavens above, .So restless in the wave below. Thus heavenly hope is all serene. But earthly hope, how bright soe'er. Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene. As false and fleeting as 't is fair. — Heber. 10 N 146 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 70. The aspen heard them, and she trembled. 71. And silence, like a poultice, comes To heal the blows of sound. — Holmes. 72. We [alumni] leave, like those volcanic stones, our precious Alma Mater, But will keep dropping in again to see the dear old crater. flbZmcs. 73. To thee it [death] is not So much even as the lifting of a latch ; Only a step into the open air Out of a tent already luminous With light that shines through its transparent walls. Longfelhw. 74. The burnished dragon-fly is thine attendant. And tilts against the field, And down the listed sunbeam rides, resplendent With steel-blue mail and shield. — Longfellow. 75. The voices of the city and the sea. The voices of the mountains and the pines. Repeat thy song, till the familiar lines Are footpaths to the thought of Italy. Longfellow to Davie. 76. He is a close observer, continually analyzing his own nature and that of others, letting fall his little drops of acid irony on all who come near him, to make them show what they are made of. — Lowell. 77. The consecrated chapel on the crag, And the white hamlet gathered round its base. Like Mary sitting at her Saviour's feet. And looking up at his beloved face ! — Longfelhw. 78. There through the long, bright mornings we remained, Watching the noisy ferry-boat that plied Like a slow shuttle through the sunny warp Of threaded silver from a thousand brooks, That took new beauty as it wound away. — Holland. 79. If, as poets are wont to whine, the outward world was cold to him [Shakespeare] , its biting air did but trace itself in FIGURES— EXAMPLES. 147 loveliest frostwork of fancy on the many windows of that self- centred and cheerful soul. — Lowell. 80. In our school-books we say, Of those that held their heads above the crowd, They flourished then or there : but life in him Could scarce be said to flourish, only touch'd On such a time as goes before "the leaf, When all the wood stands in a mist of green. And nothing perfect. — Tennyson. 81. We are puppets, Man in his pride, and Beauty fair in her flower : Do we move ourselves, or are moved by an unseen hand, at a game That pushes us off^ from the board, and others ever suc- ceed ? — Tennyson. CHAPTER V. SPECIAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE. A Comparison. — Ehetorio has been compared to architec- ture. In this comparison, words are the materials of which a structure is composed, sentences are the finished walls, and figures the ornaments. Each of these features has now been made the subject of a chapter, under the several heads of Dic- tion, Sentences, and Figures. The Comparison Continued. — The comparison may be carried one step farther. While the points thus far named belong to all buildings, buildings, themselves are classified ac- cording to their several styles of architecture, and according to the uses for which the.y are intended. One is massive and stem, another light and graceful; one is Grecian, another Gothic; one is a temple for divine worship, or a hall for legislation, an- other is only a private mansion. Architecture, in other words, has its styles suited to its several occasions, though in every style all the points thus far noticed are necessary. Every build- ing that has a claim to be at all architectural necessarily sup- poses materials, walls, and means of ornament. But beyond this, buildings rapidly diverge, and each has something peculiar to itself, which others have not. How Applied to Bhetoric. — So it is in Rhetoric. Every kind of composition requires words, sentences, and figures. The discussion of these involves what may be called the gen- eral properties of style, which belong to every species of com- position. But beyond this, each work has its special charac- teristic. Some works are sublime, some are beautiful, some witty, some humorous. This gives rise to what may be called the special properties of style. 148 SPECIAL PROPERTIES— SUBLIMITY. 149 The Special Properties of St3'le form the next subject of discussion. They will be considered under the following heads : Sublimity, Beauty, Wit, and Humoe. I. SUBLIMITY. The highest commendation that can be given to any piece of composition, is to say that it is sublime. Sub- limity, therefore, is a quality of style which deserves special study. It is important to determine with some particularity both what it is, and how it is to be attained. 1. What Constitutes Sublimity. How ■wre get the Idea. — The easiest way of getting a clear idea of Sublimity, as applied to what is written or spoken, is first to notice what is sublime in other things. The feeling of Sublimity, as a mental emotion, is perfectly simple, and, like all simple states of the mind, incapable of definition. All we know on the final analysis, is, that in certain situations the mind experiences a peculiar elevation, of a pleasurable kind, and that to this mental state we give the name of the Sublime. Two Senses of the Word. — This term, the Sublime, or Sublimity, is applied sometimes to the objects which produce the feeling, sometimes to the feeling itself Thus we may say, "Niagara is a wonderful instance of the sublime," "Sublimity is the chief characteristic of Niagara," or we may say, " I have an overpowering sense of sublimity (or, of the sublime) when- ever I look upon Niagara." How Defined. — Although the sublime, as a simple mental emotion, is incapable of strict definition, we can enumerate several quahties and circumstances which, by general consent, combine to produce the feeling, and can thus enable each one to judge what the feeling is, by an appeal to his own conscious- ness in view of such qualities or circumstances. 1. Vastness.— The first circumstance that may be named as producing a feeling of the sublime is vastness. Examples of Vastness.— We have examples of this in wide-extended plains to which the eye can set no limit, in the 150 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. boundless expanse of the ocean, in the firmament of heaven. Hence, infinite space, endless numbers, and eternal duration always fill the mind with ideas of sublimity. Direction of this Extent. — It is noticeable, however, that vast extent in a horizontal direction does not affect the mind as powerfully as an equal extent upwards or downwards. A spec- tator may experience a feeling of grandeur in looking over a plain, stretching in every direction, in unbroken lines, twenty, or thirty, or forty miles. But his feeling would be intensified a thousand-fold were he to look up at a mountain, rising boldly to an equal height into the skies, or down over a sheer preci- pice, sinking to a like awful depth below. The Firmament. — In the case of the firmament, we have vastness of extent in all directions. It is the widest, the high- est, the deepest object in all nature. Hence its universal ac- ceptance as a most impressive instance of sublimity. 2. Power. — The second circumstance that may be named as producing a feeling of the sublime is great power. Machinery. — An impression of sublimity is produced by the gigantic machines now used in engineering operations, for ex- ample, by ponderous hammers, weighing in some instances many tons, swayed up and down with resistless momentum, yet with perfect ease and dexterity, as if mere playthings in the hands of a child. Natural Objects. — Many of the operations of nature give an impression of power that awakens a feeling of the sublime. Among these may be mentioned earthquakes, thunder and lightning, volcanoes, cataracts, storms at sea, and nearly all unusual and violent commotions of the elements. 3. Awfiilness. — The third circumstance that may be named as producing a feeling of the sublime is a certain degree of awfulness and solemnity. Objects which Inspire Awe. — Darkness, solitude, and silence all tend to produce a feeling of sublimity. The scenes of external nature which awaken this feeling are not the gay SPECIAL PBOPEBTIES— SUBLIMITY. 151 landscape, the flowery meadow, or the busy and flourishing city ; but the hoary mountain, the solitary lake, the aged forest, or the deserted ruin. Night. — For the same reason, anything which has in itself elements of grandeur becomes still more impressive when ob- served at night. The firmament, amid the silence and stillness of night, strikes the imagination with a more awful grandeur than when seen amid the splendors of the noonday. The deep tones of a great bell are at any time grand ; but they are doubly so when heard at the still and solemn hour of midnight. In the sublime description which the Scriptures give of the pres- ence of Jehovah, he is represented as surrounding himself with a mysterious darkness. " He bowed the heavens also, and came down ; and darkness was under his feet. He made darkness his secret place ; his pavilion round about him were dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies." — Ps. xviii. 9, 11. 4 Vagueness. — Another circumstance that helps to awaken a feeling of the suhlime is vagueness. How Vagueness Operates. — Vagueness alone does not produce sublimity, but it co-operates powerfully with other circumstances in producing the feeling. This is an additional reason why objects otherwise impressive become more so in the obscurity of the night season. Things seen only in dim, uncertain outline become magnified and exaggerated under the influence of an excited imagination. Hence the awe inspired by the supposed appearance of ghosts. The mysterious power attributed to such beings, joined to the awful obscurity attending their appearance, has always given them a strong hold upon the imagination. Example. — A good illustration of this is found in the book of Job, (iv. 13-17,) when Eliphaz describes a spirit as appearing to him in the silence and obscurity of the night : — " In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up : it stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, say- ing, ShaU mortal man be more just than God?" 152 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 5. Volume of Sound, — Another circumstance which often produces the feeling of the sublime is great loud- ness of sound. WTiat Kind of Loudness Sublime. — It is not, however, every kind of loud sound that produces this effect. Sounds that are shrill or piercing may terrify or distress, but they do not fill the mind with ideas of grandeur. It is the deep base of the ocean, the roar of the cataract and of the. storm, of thunder and earthquake, the shouting of a vast multitude, not the shriek of the locomotive, that awakens a feehng of sub- limity. Example from Revelation. — How many of these ideas are brought together in the sublime scene described in Revelation (xix. 6) :— " And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia: for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth." 6. Moral Greatness. — A feeling of the sublime is awak- ened when we contemplate anything strikingly great or noble in human actions. This is sometimes called the Moral Sublime. Explanation. — ^Whenever, in some critical and high situa- tion, we behold a man uncommonly intrepid, and resting upon himself; superior to passion and to fear; elevated by some great principle to the contempt of popular opinion, of selfish interest, of dangers, or of death, then we are struck with a sense of the sublime. Actions of this kind are called heroic, and they pro- duce an effect similar to that produced by the contemplation of the grand objects in nature, filling the mind with admiration, and even with awe. * When king Porus, after a gallant defence, was taken prisoner, and was asked how he wished to be treated, he replied, " Like a king." When the pilot was afraid to put out to sea with Csesar in an open boat in time of storm, Coesar said, "Why do you fear? You carry Cxsar." When Gideon condemned the captive princes Zeba and Zalraunna to be put to death, and commanded his son, who was standing by, to slay them, they replied to Gideon, " Rise thou and fall upon us," thinking it SPECIAL PROPERTIES— SUBLIMITY. 163 more honorable to fall by the hand of a great warrior than by the hand of a mere youth. An English transport, carrying passengers and troops, sprang a leak upon the Indian Ocean. Held to their duty by a young Ensign, the four hundred troops gave up the life-boats to the passengers ; and form- ing in rank and file on the deck, as the loaded boats sailed off to a safe distance, the passengers caught the sound of the young Ensign's voice, as he shouted, standing face to face with death, " Fire, my boys, a part- ing salute to Old England!" There came a volley of musketry, and when the smoke cleared away, not even a floating spar told where the vessel and her gallant freight had gone down beneath the waters. 2. The Sublime in 'Writing. Having thus, in regard to actions and to natural objects, formed some idea of what those qualities are which raise in us the feeling of the sublime, we are the better able to explain what it is that constitutes the sublime in writing or discourse. 1. Sublimity of Subject.— The first requisite, in order that a piece of composition shall be sublime, is that the subject of discourse shall itself be sublime. Explanation. — Unless the action, or the natural object or occurrence, or whatever it is that we discourse about, is itself such that if actually witnessed by us it would awaken a feeling of sublimity, no mere words, however high-sounding, can make it so. 2. A Vivid Conception of the Strong Points. — The second requisite is that the writer or speaker form a vivid conception of the strong points of the subject of discourse. Explanation. — A man of feeble abilities, though describing the most sublime object in nature, may yet not have the natural elevation of soul which will lead him to notice what is really grand in the object. He must have something grand in him- self in order to conceive rightly of what is grand in other things. He cannot acquire this ability by rules ; it is the gift of God. No one will write sublimely, even on a sublime sub- ject, unless he has by nature a certain greatness of soul. Thus, Napoleon in Egypt, wishing to inspire his army with enthu- siasm for the battle, pointed to the Pyramids, and said : " Forty centuries are looking down upon you!" No one who was not 154 COMPOSITION AND B3ET0BIC. himself of heroic mould would have thus conceived or spoken of those hoary monum.ents of antiquity. A thunder-storm at night among the mountains is a spec- tacle of terrible sublimity. But a description of it, even if accurate in all its particulars, would not necessarily be sublime. The writer must know how to seize strongly upon those few grand features which constitute its sublimity. None but a poet of genius could have conceived of it as Byron has done : — Par along From peak to peak the rattling crags among, Leaps the live thunder ! not from one lone cloud. But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers through her misty shroud. Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! 3. Suppression of Belittling Details. — A third condi- tion of sublimity in discourse is that the author know what particulars to omit, as well as what to insert. Example from Milton. — There are, even about the grandest objects, many details which are belittling. Milton, in his bat- tle of the angels, describes them as tearing up the mountains and throwing them at one another : — From their foundations loos'ning to and fro, They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, Roclcs, waters, woods ; and by the shaggy tops Uplifting, bore them in their hands. Here no circumstance is mentioned which is not sublime. Claudian. — One of the late Latin poets, Claudian, describ- ing a similar scene in the wars of the giants, adds a circum- stance which makes the whole thing ridiculous. He represents one of the giants with Mount Ida upon his shoulders, and a river, which flowed from the mountain, running down along the giant's back. 4. Simplicity and Conciseness of Expression. — A fourth condition of sublimity in writing is that the ex- pression be simple and concise. Explanation.— Simphcity is here used in opposition to pro- SPECIAL PROPEBTIES—SUBLIMITY. 155 fuse and studied ornament, and conciseness to superfluous ex- pression. In all the celebrated examples of the sublime which literature affords, the words used are comparatively plain and few. The sublimity is in the thought, and that is all the more impressive for standing, like the Pyramids, in simple and un- adorned grandeur. Longinus, a learned Greek of the third century, quotes, as an instance of the sublime, the manner in which Moses, in the first chapter of Genesis, describes the creation of light : " God said, Let there be light, and there was light;" yet the expres- sion is perfectly plain and simple, without ornament, and with- out a superfluous word. The grandeur of the passage consists in the strong impression it gives us of the greatness of the divine power, which produces such wonderful effects by merely speaking a word. The Sublimity of the Gospels. — Many of the sayings and most of the miracles of our Lord, as recorded in the Gospels, have the same characteristic. They are expressed with the utmost simplicity and plainness, and yet they are in the highest degree sublime. The most stupendous miracles are described with a simple majesty fully equal to that in Genesis which ex- torted such admiration from Longinus. Exam/pies, — In describing the greatest of all his miracles, that of raising from the dead, the record is simply, " Jesus said, Lazarus, come forth : and he that was dead came forth." In healing the worst form of disease then known, he merely said to the leprous man, " Be thou clean : and immediately his leprosy was cleansed." When the disciples were in peril at sea, Jesus with calm serenity said, " It is I, be not afraid." His claims to authority, as a teacher come from God, are put forth in few and simple words, but at the same time with a majesty of expression that forced even his enemies to say, " Never man spake like this man." Improving upon the Sublime. — If we take any of the ex- amples which have been given, and endeavor to improve upon them, by piling up big words and sounding epithets, and by going into various small details, we soon find that the sublimity has all disappeared. The transaction or the thought may still be grand ; but our expression of it is poor and commonplace. A second-rate poet has thus dilated upon Caesar's celebrated phrase. Quid times f Cassarem vehis ("What do you fear? You carry Caesar") : — 156 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. But Csesar, still superior to distress, Fearless, and confident of sure success, Thus to the pilot loud: The seas despise. And the vain threat'ning of the noisy skies ; Though gods deny thee yon Ausonian strand. Yet go, I charge you, go, at my command. Thy ignorance alone can cause thy fears, Thou know'st not what a freight thy vessel bears; Thou know'st not I am he to whom 'tis given. Never to want the care of watchful heaven, [etc.] II. BEAUTY. Mode of Treatment.— The treatment of Beauty as a quality of style must be, in some respects, similar to the treatment of Sublimity. We shall speak first of Beauty in general, and then of Khetorical beauty, or beauty in Composition. 1. Beauty in General. Relation of Beauty to Sublimity. — Beauty, next to Sub- limity, affords the highest pleasure to the taste. The emotion which it raises, however, is distinguishable from that of sub- limity. It is of a calmer, gentler kind ; it does not elevate the mind so much, but rather produces an agreeable serenity. Sublimity raises a feeling too intense to be lasting ; the pleasure arising from beauty admits of longer continuance. It ex- tends also to a much greater variety of objects. It is applied indeed to almost every external object that pleases either the eye, or the ear; to many dispositions of the mind; to numer- ous objects of abstract science ; and to nearly all the graces of writing. We talk currently of a beautiful tree or flower; a beautiful character; a beautiful poem or essay. The qualities which produce in us the emotion of beauty may for the most part be classified under the following heads : 1. Color. — Color affords the simplest instance of beauty. The eye is so formed that certain colors give us pleasure, and these colors we call beautiful. How far Influenced by Association. — In some cases, prob- ably, the pleasure derived from color is influenced by the asso- ciation of ideas. Green, for instance, is more pleasing, because associated with rural scenes ; blue, with the serenity of the sky ; SPECIAL PROPERTIES— BEAVTT. 157 white, with innocence. Persons differ too in their choice of colors, and in the extent to which color itself gives them pleas- ure. But, notwithstanding this, the fact still remains that color alone, apart from all associations, is a source of beauty. 2. Figure. — Figure, as a source of beauty, is more com- plex and diversified than color. The beauty which can be traced to figure is made up of several elements, which may be separated in idea. Regularity. — The first of these elements is regularity. By a regular figure is meant one which we perceive to be formed according to some rule, and not accidental in the arrangement of its parts. Thus a square, a triangle, a circle, an ellipse, are regular figures, and on the proper occasions please the eye by this regularity, and are, for that reason, accounted beautiful. Variety. — Another element, in the beauty which is de- pendent upon figure, is variety. Both in the works of nature, and in those works of art which are intended to please, while unity of design is sufficiently observed to prevent confusion, yet a certain graceful variety is the prevailing characteristic. Mathematical figures, indeed, are seldom, perhaps never, pleasing, except when associated with the idea of fitness for some particular use. The doors and windows of a dwelling- house are made uniform in shape and size ; and being so formed they please the eye, because by this very uniformity they bet- ter subserve the use for which they were designed. But the plants and flowers which surround the house have an almost infinite diversity of figure, and please us all the more for being so formed, instead of growing in squares, circles, or polygons. Figures bounded by curved lines are in general more beau- tiful than those bounded by straight lines and angles. To say that a thing is angular, is usually another way of saying that it lacks beauty. Of curved lines, those which are elliptical are usually more pleasing than those which are circular. The rea- son seems to be that in the ellipse there is a constant deviation from the line of curvature, giving at the same time regularity and continual change. For the same reason, wave lines and spiral lines are accounted beautiful, and they are found of fre- quent occurrence in shells, flowers, and other works of nature, 158 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. and in the works of art that are designed for ornament and decoration. 3. Motion. — Motion is a source of beauty. By this is meant that bodies in motion are for that reason more agreeable than bodies at rest. But not every kind of motion is agreeable, and of those which are agreeable some are more so than others. Regular. — The first requisite to the agreeableness of any motion is that it should be regular, that is, following a line or lines recognizable by us, and not accidental or spasmodic. A bird gliding through the air is beautiful ; the lightning, on the contrary, darting from side to side of the heavens, is awe- inspiring rather than beautiful. Curvilinear. — Another requisite to the agreeableness of motion is that it should be in curved rather than in straight lines. Hence the pleasing effect of curling smoke or flame. Here it is to be noticed that most of the motions used by men in transacting the necessary business of life are in straight lines, while those connected mainly with pleasure and ornament are made in curving lines. 4. Complex Beauty. — Though color, figure, and motion are separate principles of beauty, yet in many beautiful objects they all meet, and thereby render the beauty both greater and more complex. The Most Complete Example. — Perhaps the most com- plete assemblage of beautiful objects that can anywhere be found, is presented by a rich natural landscape, where there is a sufficient variety of objects ; fields in verdure, scattered trees and flowers, running water, and animals grazing. If to these be joined some of the productions of art, which suit such a scene, — as a bridge with arches over a river, smoke rising from cottages in the midst of trees, and the distant view of a fine building seen by the rising sun, — we then enjoy, in the highest perfection, that gay, cheerful, and placid sensation which char- acterizes beauty. To have an eye and a taste formed for catch- ing the peculiar beauties of such scenes as these is a necessary requisite for all who attempt poetical description. SPECIAL PROPERTIES— BEAUTY. 159 5. Beauty of Countenance. — The beauty of the human countenance is more complex than any that we have yet considered. "What it Includes. — It includes the beauty of color, arising from the delicate shades of the complexion ; and the beauty of figure, arising from the lines which form the different features of the face. But the chief beauty of the countenance depends upon a mysterious expression which it conveys of the qualities of the mind ; of good sense or good humor ; of sprightliness, candor, benevolence, sensibility, or other amiable dispositions. The fact is certain and acknowledged, that what gives to the human countenance its most distinguishing beauty is what is called its expression ; or an image, which it is conceived to show, of internal moral dispositions. 6. Moral Beauty. — There are certain qualities of the mind which, whether expressed in the countenance, or by words, or by actions, always arouse in us a feeling similar to that of beauty. Two Blinds of Moral Qualities. — There are two great classes of moral qualities. One class is of the high and great virtues, which require extraordinary efforts, and turn upon dangers and sufferings. Among these virtues are heroism, magnanimity, contempt of pleasures, and contempt of death. These excite in the spectator an emotion of sublimity and grandeur. The other class is of a softer and gentler kind. It includes the social virtues, as compassion, mildness, friend- ship, and generosity. These raise in the beholder a sensation of pleasure, so much akin to that produced by beautiful ex- ternal objects, that, though of a more digniiied nature, it may, without impropriety, be classed under the same head. 2. The Beautiful in "Writing. Having obtained some notion of what Beauty is, as apphed to objects in general, we can more readily understand what is meant by the Beautiful in composition, and how it is to be sought. 1. Beauty of Subject. — The first requisite to beauty in 160 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. composition is that the subject of discourse be of an agreeable character. If that of which we write or speak is of such a character that it would, if actually present, excite contempt, disgust, or terror, no grace of rhetoric will make it agreeable. Discourse, to be beautiful, must present to the mind beautiful subjects for thought. The Beautiful and the Soientiflc. — There is a great dif- ference in this respect between what is meant to please merely, and what is meant to instruct ; between the beautiful and the scientific. In scientific writing, our object is to state the exact facts, whether agreeable or disagreeable. But in attempting to write what is beautiful, our object is to please. We select, there- fore, topics which are pleasing, and omit those which are dis- pleasing. 2. Beauty of Expression. — The second requisite to beauty in composition is that the subject be treated in an agreeable manner. Uses of the Rule. — It excludes low and vulgar expressions, slang phrases, and words which are harsh-sounding or difficult of utterance, when there are others more euphonious and equally expressive. It demands such words and phrases as are easy of utterance, such as please the ear, and such as for any cause awaken in the mind agreeable ideas. It encourages the use of simile, metaphor, and other rhetorical figures, and it insists upon a flowing and harmonious structure of the sentences. 3. Conciseness less Necessary. — Beauty as an attri- bute of style, does not require the same degree of con- ciseness that sublimity does. A certain degree of diffuseness is entirely compatible with that ease and grace of expression which is characteristic of beauty. The emotion known as the beautiful, being of a gentle nature, is capable of longer continuance than the sublime. It may pervade, indeed, a whole work, while sublimity is more confined to single passages and expressions. SPECIAL PROPERTIES—WIT. 161 "Wit and Humor. — Sublimity and beauty exist in the works and operations of nature, as well as in those of man, and are expressed in very many other ways, as well as in discourse. But the qualities now to be mentioned, Wit and Humor, be- long exclusively to man and his works ; and, though they may find expression to some extent in painting, sculpture, music, and other works of art, yet their chief expression is by means of language. Examples. — A mountain, a cataract, a thunder-storm, a volcano, a lion's roar, may be sublime ; a landscape, a flower, a bird, the upward soaring of the lark, or the wavy motion of a field of grain, may be beau- tiful ; but none of these acts or things are ever spoken of as witty or humorous. These epithets apply to human things only, and especially to the utterances of human speech. m. WIT. For the proper understanding of Wit, it will first be necessary to consider separately the several ideas which it includes. lu^edieuts of "Wit. — 1. First, then, surprise is an essen- tial ingredient in wit. No saying is ever received as witty, un- less it discloses some unexpected relation between ideas. Hence witticisms seldom bear repetition, or if repeated they lose much of their sparkle. 2. Secondly, the discovery of this unexpected relation must be of a kind that implies some mental superiority on the part of the discoverer. The discovery of a gold watch hanging on a bush, or of a calf with two heads, would no doubt be unexpected, and would cause great surprise.' But it would not be witty ; it would imply no intellectual acuteness on the part of the discoverer. Any body with eyes, and in the same situation, could see the same thing. 3. Thirdly, the unex- pected relation which is discovered should be such as to excite surprise merely, and not any higher emotion, like that excited by the sublime, the beautiful, or the useful. Example. — A Hindoo epigram says, "The good man goes not upon enmity, but rewards with kindness the very being who injures him. So the sandal-wood, while it is felling, imparts its aromatic flavor to the edge of the axe." Here is an unexpected relation discovered between felling sandal-wood and returning good for evil. The discovery of this relation shows acuteness, and excites surprise. Why is it not witty? Because it is a great deal more. The mere feeling of surprise is swal- • Sydney Smith. 11 162 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. lowed up in the contemplation of the beauty of the thought ; the dis- covery excites a higher emotion than that of surprise. Another Exam/pie. — There is a French saying, that hypocrisy is the homage which vice renders to virtue. Here again the observation is not regarded as witty, because it excites our admiration for its justness and beauty. Definition of Wit. — Wit is the discovery of such an unexpected relation between ideas as will excite surprise, but no other and higher emotion, like that, for instance, excited by the sublime, the beautiful, or the useful. Example. — Louis XIV., being molested by the solicitations of a cer- tain general officer, cried out, loud enough to be overheard, " That gen- tleman is the most troublesome officer in the whole army." "Your majesty's enemies more than once have said the same thing," was the witty reply. Here, that the man should assent to the royal invective, and that he should show it to be erroneous, are two distinct and appar- ently contradictory ideas. Yet the two ideas are expressed in such terms that a relation between them is seen to exist, and the unexpected discovery of this relation constitutes the wit. Other Examples. — A judge once threatened to fine a lawyer for contempt of Court. " I have expressed no contempt of Court," said the lawyer; "on the contrary, I have carefully concealed my feelings." Here an unexpected relation is discovered between the apparent denial, and the real admission of the contempt. A dog, a wife, and a walnut-tree, — The more you beat 'em, the better they be. The world, of fools has such a store. That he who would not see an ass Must hide at home and bolt his door. And break his looking-glass. Emerson's " The Mountain and the Squirrel," is remarkable for its wit. The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel. And the former called the latter " Little Prig." Bun replied — "You are doubtless very big; But all sorts of wind and weather Must be taken in together. To make up a year. And a sphere; SPECIAL PROPERTIES— WIT. 163 And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel-track. Talents differ: all is well and wisely put: If I cannot carry forests on mj- back, Neither can you crack a nut." Pun. — When the unexpected relation is not so much between ideas as between words, the witticism is called a pun. The Pun is an inferior species of mt, and if carried to excess becomes tiresome. Yet it cannot be denied that puns are some- times very effective. Examples from Franklin — When Hancock, after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, urged upon the signers the necessity of union, saying, "We must all hang together,'' "Yes," said Franklin, " or we shall all hang separately .'" This is undoubtedly a pun, the wit turning upon the double meaning of the word " hang." But the-pun is of the same serious and elevated cast as that which closes his cele- brated letter to Strahan, of about the same date : — " You are a member of ParUament, and one of the majority which has doomed my country to destruction. You have begun to bum our towns and murder our people. Look upon your hands ! They are stained with the blood of your relations ! You and I were long friends. You are now my enemy, and I am Yours, B. Franklin." In regard to both of these examples, it may be remarked that they can more easily be received as specimens of pure wit now, a century after their utterance, than they could then, when they suggested too painful a reality. Very different from these was the pun uttered on a certain occasion by Curran. A friend, hearing some one say " cnrosity " for " curiosity," exclaimed, " How that man murders the language !" " Not quite mur- ders," said Curran ; " he only knocks an i (eye) out." And the Doctor told the Sexton, And the Sexton tolled the bell.— Bbod. " Death stops my pen, but not my pension."— Hood's last pun, allud- ing to the pension bestowed upon his family. 164 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Home Tooke said of the poor poets : " We may well be called a Reptiblic of letters, for there is not a sovereign among us." Habit of Punning. — The habit of punning should be avoided, both in writing and in conversation. FaciHty in making puns is soon acquired, and when acquired almost always leads to excess. In general, there are few greater bores than an invet- erate punster. Habit of Being "Witty. — In the cultivation and indulgence of wit of the higher kind, great care should be used. A pro- fessed wit incurs two dangers : First, that habit of mind which leads him to be ever on the lookout for something striking and unexpected is not the one most conducive to truthfulness. He is under the temptation of saying what will amuse and startle, rather than what is strictly true. Secondly, witticisms usually are made at somebody's expense. If not barbed with malice, they yet leave a sting behind. No man usually has so many enemies as he who has a sharp wit. He may be feared, but he is also hated, or at least disliked. IV. HUMOB. Humor is, in many respects, like wit. Its object is to excite laughter, and it appeals accordingly to our sense of the ridiculous. Incongruity. — The laughter produced by humor comes from seeing things which are incongruous. If we see a man preten- tiously dressed, but using awkward and clownish gestures, or employing big words while violating the most common rules of grammar, the incongruity between the man's pretensions and his actual performances disposes us to laughter. Surprise. — To say that a thing is incongruous is only another way of saying that it is unexpected. Surprise, therefore, is an ingredient in humor as it is in wit. Superiority. — Surprise and incongruity alone, however, are not sufficient to constitute humor. To see a refined and deli- cate lady accidentally fallen into the mud, should excite our pity; to see a perfumed fop in the same condition would make us laugh. There would be incongruity and surprise in both cases ; but in the one there are circumstances which awaken a SPECIAL PROPERTIES— HUMOR. 165 feeling of tenderness and respect, and this feeling holds in abey- ance our sense of the ludicrous. This suggests another condi- tion as necessary to humor. The incongruity which is to make us laugh must not be in connection with circumstances which awaken any higher feeling, such as pity, fear, reverence, and so forth. We must have, in other words, a certain feeling of supe- riority over, or a want of sympathy Avith, the person laughed at. We should not laugh at a man in the agonies of dying, however grotesque might be the contortions of his face. The solemnity of the occasion holds all lighter emotions in check. Characteristic. — Another important thing to be observed is that in humor the incongruity which excites our mirth is something characteristic of the person in A\hom the incongru- ity is found. Unless it is thus in keeping with his character, it cannot be humorous, although it may be ridiculous. A humor- ous story told of a Yankee, and in keeping with the Yankee character, would cease to be humorous if told of an Irishman or a Dutchman. The things described must exactly fit the char- acter of the person to whom they are attributed, and since they do not in the least fit our character and actions, we can afford to laugh at them. Kindly. — Lastly, in genuine humor there is always a feeling of kindliness towards the persons who are ridiculed. We have our laugh at them, but in a good-natured way which wishes them no harm. Humor, in this respect, differs widely from wit. It is never bitter, it is never malignant. It is perfectly consistent with the largest charity. Thackeray, himself a humorist of high order, has defined humor to be a compound of wit and love. " The best humor," he says, " is that which contains most humanity, that which is flavored throughout with tenderness and kindness.'' Humorists Kind-hearted. — In accordance with the last remark, it may be observed that those writers who have been most celebrated for their wit have usually been noted for their ill-temper, while the humorists have in the main been persons of kind and amiable disposition. Among the humorous writers of recent times who may be quoted in illustration of this re- mark, are Lamb, Hood, Thackeray, and Dickens, of England, and Irving, Lowell, Holmes, and Saxe, of our own country. 166 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Continuanoe. — Wit and Humor differ also in continuance. Wit is concentrated, and comes at intervals and by flashes. Humor is capable of being continued through a whole com- position, and for almost any length of time. This is illustrated by the following from De Quincey : — The coachman showed rosy blossoms on his face deeper even than his granddaughter's — his being drawn from the ale cask, Fanny's from the fountains of the dawn. But, in spite of his blooming face, some iniirrai- ties he had; and one particularly in which he too much resembled a crocodile. This lay in a monstrous inaptitude for turning round. The crocodile, I presume, owes that inaptitude to the absurd length of his back ; but in our grandpapa it arose rather from the absurd breadth of his back, combined, possibly, with some growing stiffness in his legs. Now, upon this crocodile infirmity of his I planted a human advantage for tendering my homage to Miss Panny. In defiance of all his honor- able vigilance, no sooner had he presented to us his mighty Jovian back (whata field for displaying to mankind his royal scarlet !), while inspect- ing professionally the buckles, the straps, and . the harness, than I raised Miss Fanny's hand to my lips, and, by the mixed tenderness and respectfulness of my manner, caused her easily to understand how happy it would make nie to rank upon her list as No. 10, or 12 : in which case a few casualties among her lovers (and, observe, they hanged liberally in those days) might have promoted me speedily to the top of the tree; a^ on the other hand, with how much loyalty of submission I acquiesced by anticipation in her award, supposing that she should plant me in the very rearward of her favor, as 199 -i- 1. CHAPTER VI. METRE. [Within the narrow limits of the present chapter nothing can be attempted beyond the presentation of a few general principles and a few leading forms. Those persons who wish to pursue the subject fur- ther should study: Parsons, English ]^frsification. Boston; Leach, Shewell, and Sanborn. 1891 ; Corson, A Priiner of English Verse. Bos- ton ; Ginn. 1892. Mayor's work, entitled Chapters ore English Metre. London ; Clay. 1886, is too technical for the ordinary reader. Schip- per's Grundriss der Englischen Metrik. Wien ; Braumiiller. 1895 (an abridgment of a larger work by the same author), is a mine of infor- mation, but can be used only by the specialist. Guest's History of Eng- lish Rhythms, even in the re-issue by Skeat, is of little value, except for its illustrative quotations ; the author's metrical theories are untenable.] I. GENERAL TERMS. Verse and Foot Explained. — The English term Verse means strictly a metrical line. By extension, the term is used to designate a certain kind of line, e. g., "blank verse," " heroic verse," etc. ; sometimes, also, to designate the general metrical quality of a certain poet, e. g., Shake-, spearean verse, Miltonic, etc. Still further, verse is used for poetry in general, as when we say that Milton wrote both prose and verse.' Not infrequently a section of a hymn is called a verse ; e. g., the sec- ond verae of the twentieth hymn. This is incorrect; the proper term for a section of a hymn, or of any other poem, is Stanza (see p. 172). By Foot we mean the unit of measurement of the length of the line. In English verse the foot usual ly consists of 1 The use of verse to designate a portion of a chapter of the Bible, or pas- sages in the services of the church, need not be discussed here. ^ 167 168 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. two syllables, one accented (or stressed), the other un- accented. E. g. : — x/x/ x/ x/ So ma|ny worlds, 1 so much 1 to do. Tennysom : In Memorian, Ixxiii. The foot of the above is called iambic; the verse, or line, is described as iambic tetrameter. In the following : — /x /x/ x/x Far and | wide a|mong the | nations. LoHGFELLOw : Hiawatha, xviii. the foot is called trochaic, and the line is trochaic tetrameter. In the following : — / X / x/xx/ Home they ] brought her | warrior | dead. Tehktson : The Princess, v. (Song at end). the final unstressed syllable is wanting. Occasionally in a line made up of dissyllabic feet we get two unaccented syllables in a foot, as in warrior in the above ; and in the second foot of the following : — x /xx/x /x/x/ With gar|rulous ease | and oi|ly cour|tesies. Tennysou : The Princess, i. 162. In certain forms of English verse the foot is regularly trisyllabic ; e. g. : — y X / X X'X x/xx/xx/ All the heart | and the soul | and the sen|ses fore|ver in joy. Beowning : Saul (ix.) 80. The above is called an anapsestic pentameter. The fol- lowing : — /xx /xx/x x/x Brightest and | best of the | sons of the | morning. Hebee. is dactylic tetrameter ; but the last foot is only dissyllabic, and may be regarded as either a trochee or a spondee.. English poetry does not, in general, favor anapsestic verse for long poems ; Browning's Saul is exceptional. (For the dactylic hexameter, see p. 184.) METRE— GENERAL TERMS. 169 Frequently in iambic verse we get a line like the following :— Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God. Coleridge : Chamouni Hymn, 85. This might be scanned : — / X X /x /x /x/ Earth, with | her thou|sand voic|es, prai|ses God ; or, I XX / X Earth, with her thou|sand, etc. / X X / In the second method of scanning, Earth, with her thou- would be called a choriambus. But usually the best method is to scan : — / XX / X Earth, | with her thou|sand, etc. (See also p. 186.) Principle of Measurement. — We speak of Feet in Eng- lish verse, and give to them such names as iambus, tro- chee, anapaest, dactyl, spondee. These terms are bor- rowed from the metrical system of Greek and Latin, and retained as a practical convenience. But it is always to be borne in mind that the Greeks and Romans meas- ured their feet by vocalic or syllabic length : an iambus was a foot composed of one short and one long syllable ; a trochee, of one long and one short; a spondee, of two long. Whereas in English verse the feet are not measured by vocalic length, but are marked off by that voice-stress which we call accent : an English iambus is a line-section composed of an unaccented and an accented syllable, etc. Since every syllable in English is either accented or un- accented, it is not possible to have a genuine spondee. The Greeks and Romans, in fact, measured longs and shorts almost as accurately as we measure notes in music. Bnt to us a line is an alterna- tion of accented and unaccented, i. c, loud and not loud, syllables. As long, therefore, as the line has the required number of accented sylla- bles (we might call them beats), our ear is satisfied. We do not care greatly whether there is now and then an unaccented syllable too many or too few, or even whether, as in the so-called choriambus, the order of succession of accented and unaccented syllables is now and then re- versed. Compensation. — English verse, then, is elastic; it is the expression of power and freedom. Nevertheless, the English P 170 COMPOSITION AND EHETOB.IC. ear is not wholly insensible to quantity. This is evident from the principle of compensation. Thus, when Tennyson sings: — x/x / x/x/ To put I in words | the grief 1 1 feel. In Memanam, v. X / the first foot, To put, has the stress on a vowel evidently short. But in the last foot, the pronoun I, although it has not the metrical stress, is too evidently long and prominent to be slurred over like To, in, the; the voice instinctively lingers upon it. And this compensates for the shortness of put. The verse of our best poets is full of such compensation. To recog- nize and give expression to it in reading should be the aim of every student. (See p. 186.) Syllabic Pause. — In verse of popular origin a foot is fre- quently without its unstressed syllable, the place of which is supplied by a Pause, equivalent to a rest in music. E. g. : — / / / Till said to Tweed : Though ye rin wi' speed, / / / And I rin slaw, Whar ye droon ae man / / / I droon twa. To make the underlying metrical scheme plainer, we might fill in the pauses, spoiling the rugged beauty of the original : — The Till | did say | to Tweed : X /x/x / Tliough ye | do run | with speed, X / X / X / And 1 1 do run | so slow, X / X / / X Where ye | can drown | one man x/x / X / There 1 1 am drow|ning two. The songs in Shakespeare's plays, being borrowed or imitated from popular poetry, also exhibit frequent pauses. And occa- sionally we find a pause even in lyric poetry of a more culti- vated sort, e. g., in Tennyson's well-known song : — / / / Break, | break, | break, X X / x" / X / On thy cold | gray stones, | sea ! METRE— THE SINGLE LINE. 171 Also in blank verse, though more rarely ; e. g. : — Unless her prayers . . . . reprieve him from the wrath X /x/x / / x/x Of grea|test jiis|tioe. Write, | write, | Einaldo. Airs WeU, iii. 4, 28. The indispensable elocutionary pause between the first and sec- ond vjrite not only supplies the missing syllable but makes the urgency of the request more dramatic. II. THE SINGLE LINE. Its Length. — The single line may range in length from one foot to eight. Thus a trochee: — / X Splashing, / X Dashing. or an iambus : — Here end. For the opposite extreme, an eight-foot line (octameter), the following may serve : — /x/x /x /x /x / X/x/ Dear my | friend and | fellow | student, || I would | lean my | spmt | o'er you. Mes. Browning : Lady Geraldine's Courtship. For a seven-foot line (heptameter or septenary) : — X / X / X / X / X '.X' X / There's not | a joy | the world | can give || like that | it takes | away. Byeon : Youth and Age. Very Short Lines. — Concerning the very short lines, i. e., lines under four feet, it is to be said that their use is confined to short lyric poems. Lines of one foot, or of two feet, are not often found, except in light or humorous poetry, or as refrains. E. g. :— Who would be A merman bold ?— Tennyson : The Merman. Sun comes, moon comes, Time slips away. Sun sets, moon sets, Love, fix a day.— Tennyson : When ? 172 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Note the use of the name Oriana as a refrain : — My heart is wasted with my woe, Oriana. Tennyson : Ballad of Oriana. Also : Forever-never ! Never-forever ! Longfellow : The Old Clock on the Stairs. Very Long Lines. — Lines of seven and eight feet have never established themselves in popular favor. They look un- gainly in print, and — a much more serious fault — they mani- fest an insuperable tendency to break up into short lines of four and three feet, or four and four. One of the few poems of eight feet that have established themselves is Tennyson's Locksley Hall: — Comrades, | leave me | here a | little, || while as | yet 'tis | early | morn. The last foot, mom, is without the unstressed syllable. Lines Most in Use. — The only lines available for poems of considerable length are those of four, five, and six feet. They are treated in Section V. Caesura. — In lines of five or six feet there is usually a Cxsura, i. e., the line is cut into two portions, sometimes equal, or nearly equal, sometimes very unequal. The meaning re- quires the reader to stop for a moment and then resume. Thus the monotony of a regular succession of unstressed and stressed syllables is broken up. The cassura, which is technically marked by a II, is of great importance in blank-verse (see p. 186). In the Alexandrine line its normal place is at the end of the third foot. III. THE STANZA. Definition. — The stanza is a combination of lines serv- ing as the unit of measurement of a poem or section of a poem. Thus Longfellow's The Village Blacksmith is com- posed in eight stanzas, of six lines each. Spenser's Faen/ Queen is arranged in books, each book in cantos, each canto having a number of stanzas of nine lines each. METRE— THE STANZA. 173 The form or character of a stanza is determined partly by the num- ber of lines, partly by the metre of the single lines partly by the arrangement of rhymes. Couplet. — In line-number, the stanza may range from two lines to nine.' As a specimen of two-line stanza (commonly known as Couplet), short lines, Longfellow's Daybreak may serve : — A wind came up out of the sea. And said, "0 mists, make room for me." For two-line stanza, long lines, Tennyson's Locksley Hall : — Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more. Triplets. — Three-line stanzas (Triplets) are not common, ex- cept when accompanied by a refrain. Tennyson's The Two Voices may be taken in illustration: — A still small voice spake unto me, " Thou ?,rt so full of misery. Were it not better not to be?" Quatrain.— The four-line stanza (Quatrain) is the favorite of IjTic poetry, especially in songs. A Quatrain having only one rhyme is quite rare. Usually the quatrain is in alternate rhymes, e. g. .— The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch. Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch. And share my meal, a welcome guest. Rogers : A Wish. The more we live, more brief appear Our life's succeeding stages : A day to childhood seems a year. And years like passing ages. Campbell : The River of Life. Pull many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Gray : Elegy. 1 There are longer stanzas, but they are unusual. 174 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. In the above from Rogers each line is an iambic tetrameter ; in Gray, an iambic pentameter. In Campbell, the second and fourth lines are iambic trimeters, with an extra syllable (unaccented) at the end. In the following the rhymes are in couplets : — Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Shelley : To — That form of quatrain (iambic tetrameter) in which the first and fourth lines rhyme, and the second and third, is not com- mon. It was used before Tennyson, by Ben Jonson, Lord Her- bert of Cherbury, and Byron. But Tennyson's remarkable use of it in his great threnody has gained for it the title of the In Memoriam stanza.' Hsrmns. — These are usually in the form of quatrains. The varieties most employed are: Long Metre, Short Metre, and Common Metre. Long Metre is a quatrain of iambic tetrameters. -B. g. : — Come, gracious Spirit, heavenly dove, With light and comfort from above : Be thou our guardian, thou our guide ; O'er every thought and step preside. Common Metre ia a quatrain in which the first and third lines are iambic tetrameter, the second and fourth iambic trimeter. E. g. ;— While shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground, The angel of the Lord came down And glory shone around. In Short Metre the third line is iambic tetrameter ; the other three lines are iambic trimeters. E. g. : — Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love ; The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. Usually the rhymes alternate, as in the above. 1 A very just appreciation of the peculiar quality of this metre is found in Stedman, Victorian Poets (Eevised Edition), p. 169. METRE— THE STANZA. 175 Other hymn-metres are designated by the number of syllables in the lines. Thus we have "Eights and Sevens," "Eights, Sevens, and Fours," "Sevens," "Sevens and Sixes," etc. By reason of their sim- plicity and regularity these hymn-stanzas are easy to read. One has only to determine whether the line is iambic or trochaic. Thus : — Love divine, all love excelling, is trochaic. But : — Abide with me : fast falls the eventide, is iambic. Longer Stanzas. — Stanzas of five, six, and seven lines are to be found, exhibiting much variety of line-structure and rhyme-arrangement. But no one has achieved such distinction as to call for special notice. Of the eight-line stanza, two varieties must be noticed. The first is that employed by Chaucer, in his Monk's Tale and elsewhere. E. g. : — Although that Nero were as vicious (a) As any feend that lyth in helle adoun, (ft) Yet he, as telleth us Swetonius, (a) This wyde world hadde in subjeccioun, (6) Both Est and West, South and Septemtrioun ; (b) Of rubies, saphires, and of perles whyte (c) Were all his clothes hrouded up and doun ; (ft) For he in gemmes gretly gan delyte. (c) In the above the e is to be pronounced as a syllable ; vicious X / X / is a trisyllable, and subjeccioun has four syllables. The rhymes are marked by the letters a, b, e. The second is the ottava rima, introduced into England from Italy in the times of Henry VIII., and used by Wyatt and Surrey, Sidney, Spenser, Chatterton, Byron, Shelley, Keats, Longfellow, and others. Byron's Beppo, Vision of Judgment, and Bon Juan are written in ottava rima. E. g. : — Nothing so difficult as a beginning (a) In poesy, unless perhaps the end ; (6) For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning (a) The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend, (ft) Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning ; (a) Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend, (ft) Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far, (c) Till our own weakness shows us what we are. (c) Don Juan, iv. 1. 176 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. The Spenserian Stanza, so called becavise first used in the Faery Queen, is the eight-line stanza of the Monk's Tale, with a ninth line of six feet (Alexandrine). This addition gives to the stanza a peculiar stateliness. E. g. : — The Lyon would not leave her desolate, (a) But with her went along, as a strong gard (6) Of her chast person, and a faythfull mate (a) Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard : (S) Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward ; (6) And, when she wakt, he waj'ted diligent, (c) With humble service to her will prepard : (ft) Prom her fayre eyes he tooke commandement, (c) And ever by her looks conceived her intent. (c) Faery Queen, i. 3, ix. Among the chief followers of Spenser in the use of this stanza are Thomson, in The Castle of Indolence; Scott, in Don Roderick; Burns, in Tlie CoUer's Saturday Night; Byron, in Childe Harold; SheUey, in Adonais and The Revolt of Mam; Tennyson, in The Lotos Eaters. Stanzas without Rhyme. — These are rare in Enghsh, in- asmuch as rhyme is usually considered one of the three ele- ments that constitute a stanza. But there are some examples of unrhymed stanza. The most conspicuous is Tennyson's so-called isometric song, i. e., song-stanzas introduced in the body of the narrative and composed in the metre of the narrative (blank verse).' Thus, "Tears, idle tears," in The Princess, iv. 21-40, is a song in four stanzas, each of five blank-verse lines. The Swallow Song, iv. 75-98, is in eight stanzas, each of three lines. See also The P-incess, vii. 161-174, and " Oh ! who would fight and march and countermarch," and " Sleep, Ellen Aubrey, sleep and dream of me," in Audley Court. These songs in The Princess and Andlaj Court have a marked lyric flow. Tlje song of Enid and the song of tlie little maid in Guinevere are in triplets, but with a peculiar rhyming system. Longfellow's To an Old Danish Song-Book and Tegnh's Drapa are in rhymeless stanzas ; also, Gudrida's Prophecy in Lowell's The Voyage to Vinland. These are doubtless in imitation of Icelandic metres. The Sonnet. — This is the best place for discussing It ; but we must bear in mind that it is not a stanza, in the ' Stedman, Victorian Foets, p. 218. METRE— THE STANZA. 177 true sense, but a complete short poem of a peculiar structure. Without going into the somewhat obscure hiSi.tory of the sonnet, we may say that it was perfected in Italy in the four- teenth century, chiefly by Petrarch, and introduced in England in the reign of Henry VIII. The strict Italian sonnet of the Petrarchian type is a poem of fourteen iambic pentameter lines, arranged in two quatrains and a sestet. The best rhyme-arrangement is ab b a; abba; e d e c d e. But in the sestet the rhyme-arrangement is free, subject to the restriction that the thirteenth and fourteenth lines should not be a rhyming couplet; as cd ed ee. Not infrequently the sonnet is described as consisting of an octave and a sestet. But it is better to regard the first portion as consisting of two quatrains. For, in the most finished specimens, the first quatrain states a thought or feeling, the second states the counterpart of that thought or feeling, or some modification of it ; while the sestet states the conclusion. Hence the Italian rule, that the meaning should pause at the end of each quatrain. Occasionally, even in Petrarch, the mean- ing is carried over from the first quatrain to the second. But such tran- sition from the second quatrain to the sestet is very rare. English poets of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries do not conform to the strict sonnet-type. Their rhymes are not always in the Italian order ; the meaning is sometimes carried over from quatrain to quatrain, and even from quatrain to sestet. A rhyming couplet at the end is common. In short, the sonnet is treated merely as a poem of fourteen iambic pen- tameter lines with five rhyme-sounds. It does not follow from such disregard of strict form that the sonnets of this period are to be rated low. On the contrary, the sonnets of Sid- ney, Shakespeare, and Milton are among our choicest treasures. M. g. . When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought. And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste : Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long-since cancelled woe, And moan th' expense of many a vanished sight : Then can I grieve at grievances fore-gone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er 12 178 COMPOSITION AND MHETOBIC. The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay, as if not paid before : But if the while I think on thee, dear Mend, All losses are restored and sorrows end. Shakespeare : Sonnet xxx. In the above, besides the irregularity of the rhyme-order, and the final couplet, there is one continuous thought throughout twelve lines, namely, regret for past losses. In Milton's famous sonnet On Sis Blindness, the meaning is carried over without pause from quatrain to quatrain, and from quatrain to sestet. The following, by Matthew Arnold, conforms to the strict Italian model. It is also printed in the Italian manner, i. c, in four stanzas :— Crouch' d on the pavement, close by Belgrave Square, A tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied. A babe was in her arms, and at her side A girl ; their clothes were rags, their feet were bare. Some laboring men, whose work lay somewhere there, Pass'd opposite; she touch'd her girl, who hied Across and begg'd, and came back satisfied. The rich she had let pass with frozen stare. Thought I : " Above her state this spirit towers ; She will not ask of aliens, but of friends. Of sharers in a common human fate. " She turns from that cold succour, which attends The unknown little from the unknown great. And points us to a better time than ours." IV. RHYME. Perfect Ehyme. — Rhyme ' is that similarity of sound which is, in modern poetry, a means of marking the line- endings. There are three classes: Single (sometimes called Masculine, or Strong) ; Double (sometimes called Feminine, or Weak) ; and Trisyllabic. In Singh Rhyme the last accented vowel in the rhyming words must be the same ; also, if the vowel is not the final sound, the consonant or consonants which follow it. E. g. : — 1 The spelling rhyme Is retained, In deference to custom ; but the true ety- mological spelling, it may be observed, is rime. METRE— RHYME. 179 On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye. Tennyson : The Lady of Shalott. On King Olaf 's bridal night Shines the moon with tender light. Longfellow : Saga of King Olaf, viii. Blind Bartimeus at the gates Of Jericho in darkness waits. Longfellow : Blind Bartimeus. When the consonant before the accented vowel is also the same, the rhyme is called identical : — Ye woot your forward,' and I it you recorde. If even-song and morwe-song accorde, etc. Chaucer : Prologue to C. T., 829. Now both himself and me he wrongs. The man who thus complains ! I live and sing my idle songs Upon these happy plains. WOBDSWOKTH : The fountain. Double Rhyme may be described as a single rhyme followed by an unaccented syllable. E. g. : — It is a place where poets crowned may feel the heart's decaying, It is a place where happy saints may weep amid their praying : -Yet let the grief and humbleness as low as silence languish ! Earth surely now may give her calm to whom she gave her anguish. Mbs. Browning : Cowper's Grave. Trisyllabic Rhymes, are frequent in Hood's Bridge of Sighs. E. g. .— One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death ! Take her up tenderly. Lift her with care, Fashion' d so slenderly. Young and so fair! 1 You know your covenant. 180 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Not infrequently, especially in lyric verse of four iambic feet, we find the two sections of the same line coupled by rhyme. E. g. : — I wind about, and in and out; Tennyson: The Brook. And ice mast-high came floating by. CoLEElDGE : The Ancient Mariner, 53. Such rhymes are called Middle or Sectional Rhymes. Imperfect Rhyme. — When the terminal sounds upon which the rhyme is based are not identical in the two words, the rhyme is called imperfect. E. g. : — In this still place, where murmurs on But one meek streamlet, only one. WoKDSWORTH : Glen-Almmn. He has his Winter too, of pale misfeatnre. Or else he would forego his mortal nature. Keats : The Human Seasons (Sonnet). Equally imperfect rhymes are to be noted occasionally in the verses of our best poets. Thus we find light : wit, good : hlood, care : war, and the like. Some of these may perhaps be explained historically, as survivals of an ear- lier pronunciation. There must have been a time when good and Wood had the same vowel sound u (from the Anglo-Saxon o), when car, care, and war had the same & sound. Burn's startle : mortal is perhaps a Scot- ticism ; also his censure : answer, i. e. censure may be censer in Scottish. But no such excuse can be found for Coleridge's clasping: aspen, or Longfellow's abroad : accord. Even Wordsworth rhymes doors : wooers. In Westmoreland doors is undoubtedly pronounced durs ; but scarcely dii-ers, dissyllabic. Mrs. Browning, however, is the worst offender in this direction ; a collection of her transgressions would fill more than one page. Robert Browning, in Abt Vogler, 3, rhymes was : glass. The rhyming of a syllable having a strongly marked final e sound with one having a light -y sound, and even the rhyming of a final I sound with -y, is not regarded as an imperfection, but is indulged in by nearly all poets; c. g., Milton's ecstasies: eyes, p. 182, and the following: Many a green isle needs must be In the deep wide sea of Misery. Ay, many flowering islands lie In the waters of wide Agony. Shelley : Euganean HiVs. METRE— RHYME. 181 In humorous poetry imperfect rhymes, single, double, and trisyllabic, are not only tolerated, but are even encouraged. The grotesqueness of sound heightens the grotesqueness of thought. Many pages might be filled with absurd rhymes from Iludibras, The Ingoldsby Legends, Byron's Don Juan, Lowell's The Biglow Papers, and similar humorous pieces. One example will suffice: And when fresh gypsies have paid us a visit, I've Noticed the couple were never inquisitive. Bkowning : The Flight of the Duchess, 815. Assonance. — This is a feature of verse in some of the Romance languages (Spanish, Provenpal, etc.) , but, although employed to a moderate extent in Early English, it has disap- peared from our modern poetry. In assonance the vowel sound is the same in the two words, but the following consonant sounds differ. Thus, fieet, weep ; gale, lake are ex- amples of assonance. George Eliot has attempted to imitate Spanish assonance in Juan's song, in The Spanish Gypsy: — Maiden, crowned with glossy blackness. Lithe as panther forest-roaming. Long-armed naiad, when she dances. On a stream of ether floating. Blackness and dances, roaming and floating are supposed to be in asso- nance. But the attempt cannot be called successful. Alliteration. — This feature, indigenous to all Teutonic poe- try, was at one time the characteristic feature of English (Anglo-Saxon) verse. It did not, like rhyme, mark the line- endings, but marked the sequence of feet. To give a clear and accurate understanding of alliterative verse is scarcely possible, without entering into a discussion of the English lan- guage in its early state. Only one or two general features can be men- tioned here. The early English (Anglo-Saxon) line was divided into two sections, equal or very nearly so. Each section consisted of two feet, each foot having one accented syllable and usually one or more unaccented. The two sections were coupled by means of alliteration, i. e., at least two accented syllables, one in each section, had the same initial sound, vowel or consonant. There was no terminal rhyme, until comparatively late. In consequence of the growing popularity of the rhyming Latin poetry of the Church, this alliterative system began to give way even Q 182 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. before the Norman Conquest. After the Conquest the decay was rapid until in the thirteenth century the victory of rhyme was assured. There was a. temporary revival of the old alliteration, however, in the fourteenth century, notably in the long allegorical poem known as The Vision of Piers the Plowman. Since the fourteenth century it has been extinct, although we find an occasional alliterative touch even in modern verse ; e. g. : — They wept and wail'd, but led the way. Tennyson : In Memoriam, ciii. The teaves along the fimpid streams of Eden. Byeon : Cain, ii. 1, 103. Such alliterative touches, however, are merely casual ornaments in a line that is perfectly metrical without them. The old alliterative habit survives also in such expressions as " 6ed and 6oard," " to Aave and to ftold," " my fteart and Aaud," in book-titles like "(Salad for the Solitary," "Bed as a Rose," etc. V. CONTINUOUS VERSE. Under this heading are treated certain forms of verse which are espe- cially suitable for longer poems, in particular for the Epic and the Drama. The forms are the Octosyllabic Verse, the Heroic Verse, the Alexandrian, the Hexameter, and Blank Verse. Octosyllabic. — This is often called Short Couplet. As a technical term, octosyllabic designates iambic tetrameter, the lines rhyming in pairs. The verse was a favorite in medieval English poetry ; it has been used by Chaucer in his Home of Fame, and by many great poets since. In Milton's L' Allegro and II Penseroso most of the lines are octosyllabic ; but a good many are short of the initial unstressed syllable, and therefore have a trochaic rather than an iambic movement. Occasion- ally there is a line of five feet, occasionally one of only three. In the following quotation the second line illustrates the tro- chaic movement : — There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced quire below i In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. II Penseroso, 161-166. ' Quire is Milton's spelling of clwir. METRE— CONTINUOUS VERSE. 183 Scott's romances, e. g., The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Mamion, The Lady of the Lake, Rokeby, are in octosyllabics, but witb many irregu- larities. So also Byron's Giaour, The Bride of Abydos, The Siege of Corinth, Parisina, Mazeppa, and The Prisoner of Chillon, Longfellow's The Building of the Ship, and numerous poems by other authors. In Scott, Byron, and Longfellow we find a good many rhymes in the order ab ab, sometimes even abba, instead of the normal aa,bb. Longfellow's Hiawatha is composed in verses of eight syllables, e. g. : Out of childhood into manhood Now had grown my Hiawatha, Skilled in all the craft of hunters, Learned in all the lore of old men. — Canto iv. but the metre (see p. 199) is not technically the English octosyllabic ; the lines are without rhyme, and the movement is uniformly trochaic. Heroic Verse.— This is sometimes called Long Couplet. It consists of iambic lines of five feet, the lines rhyming in pairs. It was used by Chaucer in the Legend of Good Women, in the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, in the Knight's Tale and the Nun Priest's Tale; by Spenser in his Mother Hubbard's Tale; by Joseph Hall in his Satires. After the Restoration it became the favorite English metre, being developed to its utmost capacity by Dryden, and subsequently by Pope and other poets of the eighteenth century. In the present century it has been used by Byron in The Corsair, Lara, English Bards and Scotch Re- viewers, by Shelley in his Epipsychidion, occasionally by Words- worth, Coleridge, and Keats, and by Browning in his Sordello. There are two varieties of heroic verse : the strict, and the free. In the strict, the meaning pauses at the end of the rhyme, and is not al- lowed to run over into the third line, or beyond.^ This is the form of verse cultivated by Dryden, Pope, and their immediate predecessors and successors. But Wordsworth, Coleridge, Keats, and in general the nine- teenth century poets, favor the other form, in- which the poet is free to run the meaning over and to pause where he sees fit. A comparison of Pope and Keats will make the difference clear. Pope is satirizing the poetasters of his day : — " Shut, shut the door, good John !" ^ fatigued I said, " Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead." The Dog-star rages ! nay, 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out : ' Eunning over is technically called enjanibement, " striding." 2 John Serle, Pope's faithful servant. 184 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land. Epistle to Ariuthnot, 1-6. The satire of Keats is aimed at the Dryden-Pope school for their slavish observance of strict rules. It is interesting to note how Keats, using the long couplet, constructs it in avowed defiance of such rules :— Beauty was awake ! Why were ye not awake ? But ye were dead To things ye knew not of, — were closely wed To musty laws lined out with wretched rule And compass vile ; so that ye taught a school Of dolts to smooth, inlay, and clip, and fit. Till, like the certain wands of Jacob's wit, Their verses tallied.^ Sleep and Poetry, 192-199. Alexandrine.^ — This consists of iambic lines of six feet, the lines rhyming in pairs. It enjoyed a measure of popularity in medieval English, but was not taken up by the great Elizabethan and Stuart poets. In the nineteenth century it has become al- most extinct. Wordsworth employs it in Ths Pet Lamb ; but the only long modern poem in which it is employed is Brown- ing's Fifine at the Fair, e. g. : — If hunger, proverbs say, allures the wolf from wood. Much more the bird must dare a dash at something good. Section ix. The ninth line of the Spenserian stanza is an Alexandrine (see p. 176). We find also an occasional six-foot line in heroic verse, rhyming with one of five feet. In French poetry, it may be observed, the Alexandrine is the favorite metre, used — to the exclusion of all others — in the so-called classic drama and in narrative, didactic, and satiric poetry. Hexameter. — Any line of six feet may be called hexameter, and in fact the French frequently apply the term to their Alex- andrine. But in English the term is restricted to the Greek and Latin dactylic hexameter, a verse composed of dactyls and spondees, and to the modern imitations of it. ' Gosse, Prom Shakespeare to Pope. New York ; Dodd, Mead & Co., 1885, p. 5. 2 The origin of the name is in dispute. Some say that it was formed from Alexandre Paris, the name of an old French poet who used the metre ; others derive it from the fact that several medieval poems on Alexander the Great (see p. 200) were composed in the metre. METBE— CONTINUOUS VERSE. 185 The hexameter is without rhyme. The following is a speci- men: — Into the open air John Alden, perplexed and bewildered, Rushed like a man insane, and wandered alone by the seaside ; Paced up and down the sands, and bared his head to the east-wind. Cooling his heated brow, and the fire and fever within him. Longfellow : Courtship of Miles Standish, iv. The metre is familiar to every reader of Homer and Virgil, or of Longfellow's Evangeline and The Courtship of Miles Standish. Some of the Elizabethan poets composed short poems in hexameter. In our day, in addition to Longfellow, may be mentioned Charles Kingsley's An- drotneda, Clough's Bothie of Tober-na- Vuolich, and various English trans- lations of Homer and of Goethe's Hermann und Dorothea. But in gen- eral the metre cannot be said to have met with unquestioned success. It has no genuine spondees ; and even the dactyls have not that peculiar tripping movement which we observe in Virgil and still more evidently in Homer. Thus, in "wandered alone by the seaside," lone by the is painfully slow and heavy by the side of Virgil's tegrriUni \ fagl and Homer's t^aiSiixoi \ 'Enrcop. Elegiac Metre consists of hexameters alternating with dactylic pentameters, i. e., lines in two sections, each of two and a Tialf feet. E. g. .— In the hex|ameter | rises the | fountain's | silvery | column. In the pen|tameter | aye || falling in | melody | back. Coleridge : Translation from Schiller. Clough, Tennyson, Swinburne, and others have written occasional ele- giacs; but the verse remains an exotic. Blank Verse. — Any verse without rhyme, e. g., Long- fellow's Hiawatha (p. 183), might be called blank. But the term is applied in English exclusively to the un- rhymed iambic pentameter. Blank verse is the English metre by eminence. Although not of native origin, but introduced from Italy by Surrey, early in the sixteenth century, it grew rapidly in favor. First put upon the private stage by Sackville and Norton, in the play of Gwhoduc, 1561, and upon the public stage by Marlowe in his Tamburlaine, about 1587, it became the acknowledged metre of the Enghsh drama. After the decline of the drama it reap- peared with fresh vigor, in Milton's Paradise Lost, Paradise 186 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIC. Regained, and Samson Agonistes. During the Dryden-Pope era it was eclipsed, but only partially eclipsed, by heroic verse. It was employed even by Dryden himself in his All for Love and Don Sebastian, by Otway in his Venice Preserved, in Addison's Cato, Johnson's Irene, Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagination, Thomson's Seasons, and Young's Night Thoughts, to mention only the more prominent poems. Under the example and teaching of Wordsworth and Cole- ridge blank verse has been raised to its former supremacy. With it are identified the name and fame of nearly every great poet of this century. The Underlying Formula of blank verse is simple : five feet with the accentuation ^' A line from Tennyson will illus- trate : — Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds. Morte d' Arthur. But it is evident that a succession of such lines would be monotonous. To prevent monotony, various devices are employed, the principal of which are the following, 1-7 ; — 1. The so-called Choriambvs, p. 169. E. g. : — Then, while I breathed in sight of haven, he. Poor fellow, could he help it ? recommenced. Tennyson : The Brook. The first line is to be scanned : — Then, | while I breathed | in sight | of ha|ven, he 2. Hovering Accent, i. e., the voice rests upon both syllables of a foot, making both prominent. E. g. : — Five years have passed ; five summers, with the length Of five long winters I and again I hear, etc. WOKDSWOETH ; Tintern Atbey. / X X / In the first line we cannot scan five years, nor five years, but nmust read five years; in the same way, five summers. In the second line, long winters. Observe also, in the second line, how the increased length and weight of long mrv- compensates for the lightness of the succeeding feet -ters and. again (see p. 169). 3. Cxsura^ or cutting ; the line is cut, or broken, by an un- 1 The cseaura is by do means confined to blank verse. It is found in octo- syllabics, e. g., " In service higli ]| and anthems clear," p. 182 ; " They wept and METRE—CONTINVOVS VERSE. 187 mistakable pause in the meaning. The caesura may come any- where in the line ; the poet displays his skill by shifting its posi- tion. Thus : — 'Tis much he dares, And, II to ' that dauntless temper of his mind. He hath a wisdom || that doth guide his valour. Macbeth, ill. 1, 51. Seasons return ; || but not to me returns Day, II or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn. Paradise Lost, iii. 42. Friend, || there's a certain sorry Uttle scrub Goes up and down our Florence, || none cares how, Who, II were he set to plan and execute As you are, || pricked on by your popes and kings, etc. Bbownius : Andrea del Sarto. Elaine, || the lily maid of Astolat. Tbnnyson: Elaine. And loved him || with that love which was her doom. Tennyson: Elaine. And ever pushed Sir Modred, || league by league. Tennyson : The Passing of Arthur. Then spake the bold Sir Bedivere : || '• My King." Tennyson : The Passing of Arthur. Or pilot, II from amidst the Cyclades Delos or Samos first appearing, || kens A cloudy spot. Paradise Lost, v. 265. Frequently there are two caesuras in the line, e. g. : — Then, || while I breathed in sight of haven, || he, Poor fellow, 11 could he help it? || recommenced. Tennyson : The Brook. Lie there, my art. || Wipe thou thine eyes ; || have comfort. Tempest, i. 2, 25. wailed | but led the way," p. 182. In lines of eight, seven, and six feet the nor- mal place of the caesura Is at the middle of the line ; see the quotations from Mrs. Browning's Lady Geraldin^s Courtship, Byron's Yovth and Age, Tennyson's Locksley Rail, p. 173. For a very free use of the caesura in the heroic verse, see quotation from Keats, p. 184. ' To means here in addition to. 188 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 4. Two unaccented syllables in the/ooi (see p. 168) : — With garrulous ease and oily courtesies. Tennyson : The Princess, i. 162. I often am much wearier than you think, This evening more than usual ; and it seems As If, etc. Bbowning : Andrea del Sarto. I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art. Tempest, v. 1, 79. The extra syllable is most effective when it occurs in con- nection with the csesura, e. g. : — How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false. Merchant of Venice, iii. 2, 83. All three of them are desperate : their great guilt. Tempest, iii. 3, 104. 5. Omission of an uTiaccented syllable (see p. 168). This occurs nearly always in connection with the csesura, e. g. : — X /x/x/ / X / 'Gainst my | capti|vity. || Hail, | brave friend ! Macbeth, i. 2, 5. .^ X /x/x/ / Come, come ; | let's see | him out | at gates ; || come. Coriolanus, iii. 3, 142. Sometimes we find even the accented syllable omitted, e. g. : — x/ x/ x/xx / I'll watch I as long | for you | then. || Approach. Merchant of Venice, ii. 6, 24. Such omissions, seldom if ever found in narrative blank verse, are quite explicable on the stage, where their place is supplied by some gesture or intonation of the voice. Less easy to account for is the omission of the unaccented syllable at the beginning of the line, e. g. : — Out, I you rogue ! | you pluck | my foot | awry. The Taming of the Shrew, iv. 1, 150. Pray, | good shep|herd, what | fair swain | is this? TJw Winter's Tale, iv. 4, 166. The movement is changed from iambic to trochaic. METRE— CONTINUOUS VERSE. 189 6. Extra unaccented syllable at the end of the line. This is not uncommon in dramatic blank verse, e. g. : — But music for the time doth change his nature. Merchant of Venice, y. 1, 82. And bum in many places ; on the topmast, The yards and bowsprit, would I^ame distinctly. The Tempest, i. 2, 199. but is rare in narrative, e. g. : — Sends from its woods of muskrose twined with jasmine. Shelley : Alastor. 1. Light and weak endings. The hne-end is said to be light when the final metrical accent falls upon a word which can bear it only partially. Such words are am, are; do, does; I, they, thou, etc. The ending is weak when the final accent falls upon a word which cannot bear it at all. Such words are and, for, if, in, to, etc. The effect of a light or a weak ending is to run the scansion over to the next line; hence such verse is technically called run-on verse. Whereas verse in which the voice can pause at the line-end is called end-stopt. The distinction is important in the study of the Elizabethan drama. According as the percentage of run-on lines in a given drama is small or large, the drama is considered to belong to the early or the late period. In fact, the distinction has been used for determining the relative age of a Shakespearean play, when external evidence of age is wanting. The following passages illustrate the difference between end- stopt and run-on verse: — A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, Before the always wind-obeying deep Gave any tragic instance of our harm : But longer did we not retain much hope ; For what obscurM light the heavens did grant Did but convey unto our fearful minds A doubtful warrant of immediate death. Cmnedy of Errors, i. 1, 63-69. These three have robbed me ; and this demi-devil— For he's a bastard one — had plotted with them To take my life. Two of these fellows you Must know and own ; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine. The Tempest, v. 1, 272-277. 190 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. One grave shall be for both ; upon them shall The causes of their death appear, unto Our shame perpetual ; once a day I'll visit The chapel where they lie ; and tears shed there Shall be my recreation. The Winter's Tale, iii. 2, 237-241. The contrast between Shakespeare's earlier and later manner is palpable. The lines from the Comedy of Errors are almost sing-song in their cadence. In The Tempest note the superfluous syllable in devil, with them, the light endings you, I; in The Winter's Tale, the superfluous syllable in visit, the light ending shall, and the weak ending vmto. And in both the later plays note the shifting of the caesura. The combined eflfect of superfluous end-syllable, shifting cae- sura, and light-weak ending was to give to the latter dramatic verse a remarkable fluidity. The sense flows on in long stretches, running through line after line, in seeming disregard of line- beginning or line-ending. Milton accomplishes a somewhat similar efiect by means of his hovering accents, csesural pauses, and choriambics, without weak endings. But Milton's verse, though highly diversified and harmonious, is far from having the fluidity, the nimbleness, of the verse of Shakespeare and some of Shakespeare's suc- cessors. And the same may be said of the blank verse of Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Browning. The only nineteenth century poet who has attempted the frequent use of light-weak endings is Byron, especially in his Cain. 8. Pronunciation. — In reading EUzabethan blank verse we are to remember that the accent and pronunciation of those days differed somewhat from our own. E. g., words like complexion X / x/ might be, and were sometimes, pronounced compU\xwn, etc. ; on the other hand, innocence might be slurred into innocence, as in Middleton's line : — As wild and merry as the heart of innocence. Speculative and medicine were slurred into Bpechiive and meddne. Candlestick vai^thB pronounced as camtich, ignominy as ignomy; spirit and sprite were equivalents, also whether and whe'r. It is not possible to mention here all the peculiarities of Elizabethan pronunciation. The careful reader will overcome most of them with a little ingenuity. The fullest treatment accessible to the general student METRE— CONTINUOUS VERSE. 191 is that in the section entitled Prosody/, in E. A. Abbott's Shakespearean Grammar ; Macmillan & Co. Terza Rima. — This peculiar Italian metre, employed occa- sionally by a few of the Elizabethan poets, has been made some- what prominent in the nineteenth century by students of Italian poetry, especially in their translation of Dante. Byron's Pro- phecy of Bante is written in terza rima, so are Shelley's Ode to the West Wind, The Triumph of Life, Prince Athanase, and The Woodman and the Nightingale} Among the translations of Dante may be mentioned those by C. B. Cayley and Mrs. Ramsay. The line is iambic pentameter, but (in Italian) always ending in an eleventh unaccented syllable. The lines are in stanzas of three. The rhymes are arranged in the formula aba; b cb ; c d c, etc. The mean- ing comes to a stop, usually a full stop, with every stanza, while the rhyme is carried over to the following stanza. Every reader, even though he be whoUy unfamiliar with Italian, can perceive these fea- tures in the following extract, the opening of Canto iii. of the Inferno, the inscription on the gate of Hell : — Per me si va neUa citt^ dolente. Per me si va neU' etemo dolore. Per me si va tra la perduta gente. Giustizia mosse il mio alto Fattore, Pecemi la divina Potestate, La somma Sapienzia e il primo Amore. Dinanzi a me non fur cose create, Se non eterne, ed io etemo duro : Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch' entrate. Note the rhymes dolente, gente ; dolore, Fattore, Amore; Potestate, create, entrate, with the extra unaccented syllable at the end. Also note the fall stop after gente, Amore, entrate. In Mrs. Eamsay's translation the above reads : — Through me ye pass the mournful city's door. Through me ye go to never-ending woe, Through me are with the lost for evermore. By justice moved, my Maker willed it so, When I was formed by the Supremest Mind, Prom whom all love, and power, and wisdom flow. Before me, no created thing ye find If not eternal ; ever I endure : O ye who enter here leave hope behind. 1 The metre of Byron and Shelley is irregular, in comparison with that of Dante. 192 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. The best English terza rima, whether original verse or translation, is far below the Italian. This inferiority is mainly due to the inability of our language to yield a continuous supply of double rhymes. The fluidity of Dante's verse, its lilt, due to this extra-syllabic overflow, is equalled only by its sustained dignity. We must also remember that the terza rima, although a three-line stanza, does not produce the effect of stanza measure upon the ear ; its eflfect is that of continuous verse. This is due to the carrying-over of the rhyme. VI. IRREGULAR RHYTHMS. Occasionally the reader of modern literature meets with poems, usually short lyrics, which he is unable to fit into any regular metre, whether iambic or trochaic, anapaestic or dac- tylic. Such poems are best treated as rhythmical, rather than metrical. Looked at from the historical point of view, they are doubtless a product of the folk-spirit, a survival of the transition-period when the Anglo-Saxon alliterative verse, with its four beats to the line, was giving way before the metrical verse borrowed or imitated from Latin, French, or Italian. James VI. of Scotland named the rhythm tumbling verse. These rhythmical lines have usually four beats, i. e., four strongly-accented syllables, to the line; but sometimes there are only three beats. The four-beat line has a strongly-marked csesura. E. g. : — My ragged rontes all shiver and shake. As doen high Towers in an earthquake : They wont in the wind wagge their wrigle tayles. Perk as a Peacock ; but now it avales.i Spensek : Shepherd's Calendar, February. Note the alliteration in the abov^ ; also in the following ballad :— Wandering thus wearilye, all alone, up and downe. With a rude miller he mett at the last : Asking the ready way unto fair Nottingham ; Sir, quoth the miller, I meane not to jest. Yet I thinke, what I thinke, sooth for to say. You do not lightlye ride out of your way. The King and the Miller of Maiwfield. Nearly all the folk-ballads are to be read in this way, i. e., rhyth- mically; but frequently, perhaps usually, the even-numbered lines have three beats instead of four. 1 Ront^, young bullocks ; it avales, it droops, declines. METRE— IRREGULAR RHYTHMS. 193 In drinking songs, also, rhythm is common, its freedom and sharp accentuation being favorable to conviviality. Thus the Soldier's Song in The Lady of the Lake, vi., is rhythmical, espe- cially toward the end of each stanza. Also this Cambridge song of the seventeenth century : — Come hither Apollo's bouncing girl, And in a whole Hippocrene of sherry, Let's drink a round, till our brains do whirl, » Tuning our pipes to make ourselves merry ; A Cambridge lass, Venus-like, born of the froth Of an old half-filled jug of barley-broth. She, she is my mistress, her suitors are many. But she'll have a square-cap, if e'er she have any. Cleveland: Square-Oap.^ We meet with rhythmic movement even in modern poetry of a higher order, e. g., Browning Flight of the Duchess, Longfellow's Ourfew (two beats to the line), Tennyson's Merman and Mermaid. ' Square-Cap is student, a reference to the well-known University headgear of England. 13 R CHAPTER VII. POETRY. General Nature of Poetry. — Poetry cannot be defined. All attempts at expressing in set words its distinctive quali- ties have failed, and will always fail. There is only one characteristic of poetry in general ; it is the expression of the ideal in the poet, and it appeals to the ideal in the hearer or reader. It expresses the ideal, in distinction from the actual. But, in its way, it is just as real as the actual is. For instance, Othello never actu- ally existed, he is only an ideal creation by Shakespeare ; nevertheless he is a real man, perfectly intelligible to every reader or spectator of the play. In like manner. In Me- moriam is not the actual expression of Tennyson's thought and feeling, but the idealized ; yet the poem is real to every one who interprets it. Poetry not only has a different logic, i. e., thought-sequence, from prose, but it speaks a different dialect, and breathes a different atmos- phere. In passing from prose to poetry we enter a different world. Herein poetry differs from the prose fiction called a novel. The novelist creates a fictitious world as much like the actual as possible ; the poet takes us wholly out of the actual. In the language of Coleridge, he wins from us that temporaiy suspension of disbelief which is called poetic feith. As long as the poem is consistent with itself and with the fundamental traits of human nature, it is real. Furthermore, in all poetry there is a blending of thought and feeling. On the one hand, the views, ideas, beliefs, of the poet are all colored with emotion ; on the other hand, the feeling is not mere emotion, it must have intellectual substance. Therefore a collection of verses in which thovight abounds, but which leave the reader unmoved, is not a genuine 194 POETRY— LYRIC. 195 poem ; -similarly, verses which merely play upon the readel-'s emotion, without quickening his intellectual activity, are not genuine poetry. The higher and nobler the poetry, the more complete is this blending of the emotional and the intellectual. We cannot read, for instance, Milton's sonnet On His Blindness without perceiving that our whole being, intellectual and emotional, is instantly raised to a higher plane. Whoever desires to truly know what poetry is, must read a considerable amount of good poetry of the various kinds. After he has thus read with careful diligence, a further study of critical theories may be of service; but certainly not before. In any event it is desirable to learn to distinguish the various kinds of poetry. Apparently these are endless, but in fact they maj' be classified under four general heads: Lyric; Narrative; Dramatic ; Didactic and Satirical. The lines of division are occasionally, it is true, somewhat uncertain ; that is, we may be puzzled to know under what head to put a certain poem, or group of poems. But in the main the classification is clear enough for practical purposes. LYRIC POETRY. Personal in its Nature. — Lyric Poetry is the expression of the poet's own thoughts and feehngs. According as the emotional element or the intellectual element preponder- ates, we may divide lyric poetry into two general classes : lyrics of emotion, and lyrics of reflection. At least, there are these two general divisions, though it may be difficult to decide which element actually preponderates in a cer- tain poem. We are also to remember that a lyric poem, though originally the utterance of an individual poet, may become, by adoption, the expres- sion of national or popular sentiment. This is the case with certain national hymns set to music, e. g., The Star-Spangled Banner, The Mar- seillaise, The Watch on the Rhine; or with such religious hymns as Jesus, Lover of my Soul, Nearer, my God, to Thee. Also, within narrower limits, songs favored by certain classes in the community, e. g., college songs. An example of a song which is neither religious nor strictly national, but which is popular in the widest sense, is Home. Sweet Home. Musical in Quality.— Lyric poetry, as the etymological connection of the adjective with lyre suggests, was origi- 196 - COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. nally poeliry sung to the accompaniment of a harp-like instrument. The greater part of ancient Greek lyric poetry was thus sung. And as long as the emotional ele- ment predominates, lyric poetry, even at the present day, may be characterized as song-poetry, or as poetry that can at least be set to music. But in proportion as the reflec- tive element gains the ascendancy, the song-quality dis- appears, until at last we get such poems as Wordsworth's Ode to Duty, Milton's Lycidas, Keats's On a Grecian Urn, poems which we can scarcely imagine set to music. It is not possible to arrange systematically all the varieties of lyric poetry, and furnish each with an appropriate designation. They are as infinite as the moods and impulses of the human spirit. The following classification indicates at least the principal varieties. In the emotional class : poems of Conviviality ; of Love and Friendship ; of Patriotism and Religion. In the reflective class : poems of Nature ; the Sonnet, the Ode; the Elegy and Threnody. Conviviality. — These poems, commonly called drinking- songs, are not often of a high order. In Shakespeare we find such specimens as lago's song, Othello, ii. 3, " And let me the canakin clink, clink." See also Cleveland's Sqimre-Caip, p. 193. The Soldier's Song, in the Lady of the Lake, vi., stanza v., is coarse in tone. Singularly graceful is Ben Jonson's To Celia (" Drink to me only with thine eyes "), though this is perhaps rather a love-song. Love and Friendship. — Poems of a very high order are numerous in our literature. Only a few need be pointed out, e. g., Burns's Highland Mary, Herrick's Counsel to Qirls (" Gather ye rose-buds while ye may"), Marlowe's Passionate Shepherd ("Come live with me and be my love"). Of domestic love we find such expressions as Blake's Infant Joy, and Cradle Song ; in Tennyson's Princess, the songs " Sweet and low,'' and "As thro' the land at eve we went;" or Burns's "John Anderson my Jo, John," and Lady Nairn's The Land o' the Leal. Love and friendship intermingled in retrospect are treated in such poems as Lamb's The Old Familiar Faces and Moore's Tlie Light of Other Days {" Oft in the stilly night "). POETRY-LYRia 197 Patriotism finds expression in such poems as Campbell's Battle of the Baltic, Cowper's Loss of the Royal Gem-ge, Wolfe's Burial of Sir John Moore, to mention only a few distinctively literary in form. Beligion. — These poems, in the form of church hymns, are too familiar to need special mention here. The literature of the medieval church is very rich in Latin hymns, e. g., Dies Irx. Milton's poem on Christ's Naiivity is better classed among the odes; Pope's Universal Prayer is hymnic. Among English hymn-writers the most famous are George Herbert, Watts, Charles Wesley, Keble, Heber, Neale (as a translator from the Latin), Faber, and Cardinal Newman. Nature. — Poems of Nature are found in great profusion in our literature ; they range from simple description to abstruse reflection. The term nature here includes animal life. Among the simpler poems may be mentioned Wordsworth's The Daffodils, Bums's To a Mouse. Subtler and more compli- cated are Wordsworth's To the Skylark and Shelley's To a Sky- lark; Shelley's The Cloud; Bryant's To a Waterfowl. Many of the longer poems upon inanimate nature are prop- erly classified with didactic poetry. The Sonnet is easily recognized by its form (see p. 176). In substance it is a blending of the thoughts and feelings which have been occasioned by a certain event or incident. The son- net is always highly reflective, and the thought should always be worked up to something like a philosophic conclusion. Among our earlier sonnet- writers the most famous are Sidney, Shakespeare, and Milton. The best known in the present cen- tury are Keats, Wordsworth, Mrs. Browning, Rossetti, and Charles Tennyson. Ode. — It is difficult to bring all the varieties of Ode under one general characterization. A specimen of the more impas- sioned kind, with brilliant narrative and dramatic touches, is Halleck's Marco Bozzaris; equally impassioned in tone, but more complex and obscure in its allusions, is Gray's The Bard. The Progress of Poesy, by Gray, is reflective. Dryden's Alexan- der's Feast was intended by its author to be impassioned, but in reality it is rather frigid and rhetorical. Lowell's Commemoror tion Ode and Wordsworth's Intimations of Immurrtality are highly reflective, but with many beautiful descriptive touches. 198 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIO. The Elegy and the Threnody. These are closely related, being meditations upon the vanity of things earthly, or upon the grave problems of life and death. The Threnody is more personal, commemorating the death of one particular indi- vidual. Gray's Elegy, as a specimen of its class, is too well known to need more than mention. The great threnodies of our literature are Milton's Lycidas, Shelley's Adonais, Matthew Arnold's Thyrm, and Tennyson's In Memoriam. The last-named is occupied with so many prob- lems of science and philosophy as to have almost the charac- ter of a didactic poem. But the lyric and personal element predominates. NARRATIVE POETRY. Most of the varieties of story-telling in poetic form may be placed under one or the other of two general groups : the Epic, and the Romance. Epic. — Of this there are three varieties. 1. The Folk-Epic, or genuine epic. This is not very abun- dantly represented. In the literature of the world at large there are only seven or eight examples : the Mahahharaia and the Ramayana, in Sanskrit; the Iliad and the Odyssey, in Greek; the Beowulf-poem, in Anglo-Saxon; the Nihelungen Lied, in medieval German ; the ICaleoala, in Finnish ; and perhaps the JEneid, in Latin. The characteristics of the folk-epic are the following. The story it- self embodies the mythological, religious, and historico-legendary ideas of the folk among whom it originates. It originates and is developed among this folk in a primitive state of civilization, and independently of any one poet, although its final shaping may be the work of one, or perhaps more than one, individual poet. Lastly, the metre also must be indigenous in the folk. The Iliad and the Odyssey, the Beowulf and the Kaievala, exhibit these characteristics fully. The Mahahharctta and the Ramayana, although in- digenous in every respect, are so interminable and so shapeless that they scarcely deserve the title of poems. The metre of the Mbelungen Lwd is perhaps not quite German in its ultimate origin. The metre of the ^neid, and a good deal of the substance of the first six books, are bor- rowed from the Greek, while its spirit is not that of a primitive age, but that of its author, Virgil, reflecting the polished court of Augustus. POETRY— N ABB ATIVE. 199 The Iliad or the Odyssey will give one an idea of the folk-epic in its most artistic form ; the Kaleoala, in its crudest form ; the Bemmdf, in its arrested form, about half way to artistic finish. The Nihelungeii Lied is artistically finished in its structure, but is overlaid with too much medieval frippery and sentimentality. 2. The Art Epic. — Leading examples of this are the Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, in English ; Klopstock's Messiah, in German. In such poetry we find a well-known author, repre- sentative of the full intellectual and moral culture of his folk, treating a religious theme not indigenous to the folk but adopted by it, and treating this theme under the influence of or in emulation of the classic epics. Longfellow's Hiawatha is also to be regarded as an art epic. The story is taken from the myths and legends of the North American Indians, and is wholly foreign to our Anglo-Ameri- can race. The metre is that of the Kalcvala (see pp. 183, 198). 3. The Allegorical Epic. — Under this heading we may place Spenser's Faefry Queen, Langland's Vision of Piers the Plowman (14th century), and the like. The personages are not real, but merely symbolic, that is, they stand for certain virtues and vices, and the doctrinal teaching is obvious throughout. Is Dante's gi-eat poem to be placed here ? The title is Divine Comedy. The term Comedy, however, as used by Dante, did not suggest neces- sarily anything of a dramatic form, but meant merely a story that began sadly and ended pleasantly. Dante's poem begins in hell and ends in heaven. In form, it is a Vision, though this is not so explicitly stated as in the case of Piersjhe Phnvman and Bunyan's Pilririm's Progress. In movement, it is narrative ; the poet is led through the regions of hell and purgatory by the spirit of Virgil, and afterward led to heaven by the spirit of Beatrice. But the personages introduced are not all mere symbols of vice and virtue ; many of them are well-known figures of history. There is, further, the 3Iock Epic, in which the poet narrates a humorous incident of ordinary life, exaggerating it greatly, and imitating the tone and style of the classic epics. The best ex- ample in English is Pope's Rape of the Lock. Not only does Pope mimic grandiloquently the diction of Homer and Virgil, but he introduces the sylphs in parody of the gods and god- Bomance. — The term is used here in a very wide sense, 200 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIG. including all narrative poems which have not the grand proportions and mythological or ethical spirit of the epic. 1. The Romance of Chivalry. — This form of poetry, extremely popular in the Middle Ages, but falling into disfavor in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, has been partially re- vived in the present century. The stories may be classified in three general groups, according to their subject-matter, viz., the Charlemagne stories, the Arthurian, and the Classical. The Charlemagne stories have for their subject the great Frankish emperor, as he appeared to the credulous imagina- tion of later generations, surrounded by his twelve peers of the Round Table. The best known of his attendants are Roland, Turpin, and the traitor Ganelon. These stories were extremely popular in the Middle Ages, in France, Germany, and England. At the battle of Hastings one of Duke William's minstrels is said to have ridden out in front of the Norman army, singing of the death of Roland. But the Charlemagne romances have not been revived in English literature of the present century. The Arthurian stories have been revived for modern English readers in Tennyson's Idylls of the King, Swinburne's Tristram of I/yonesse, Matthew Arnold's Tristram and Iseutt. The term "idyll" is not used happily by Tennyson. It means in strictness "a little picture," i. e., a short story of real rather than of legendary life. The idyll is in verse what genre and still-life are in paint- ing, whereas Tennyson's Arthurian poems are long stories of heroic prowess. Introducing all the leading personages of Arthur's court, they present what is technically known as the Arthurian cycle. The Arthurian stories were, it is believed, originally the embodiment of certain mythological ideas of the Celtic race. But, even in the earli- est medieval written form in which we find them, the mythological element is practically eliminated, and beings who have been primarily gods and goddesses and demi-gods appear merely as men and women. The few traces of their descent from the gods can be detected only by the special student of comparative mythology. The Classical Romances, embodying the curious medieval conceptions of the great men of Greece and Rome, notably of Alexander the Great, were likewise popular in the Middle Ages, but have not been revived of late. Under this head we may put also the medieval versions, or perversions, of the Homeric and Virgilian stories of the Greeks POETRY—NARRATIVE. 201 and Trojans. The best known of these is the story of Troikis and Cressida, narrated by Chaucer and dramatized by Sliake- speare. 2. Ecclesiastical Rmnances. — These are commonly known as Lives of the Saints. Tlie earliest medieval lives of the saints rested upon a substantial basis of fact. But in time they ab- sorbed much popular superstition, and even borrowed certain features from the romances of chivalry. In the later versions it is not easy to separate fact from fiction. Among the best known may be mentioned the lives of Stephen, Andrew, Martin, Cecilia, Margaret, Katherine, Law- rence, Nicholas, Christopher, Thomas of Canterbury. This branch of hterature has not met with much favor from nineteenth-century poets, unless we except Aubrey De Vere's Legends of the Scmm Saints, Tennyson's St. Simeon Stylites, Mat- thew Arnold's St. Brandan, and a few others. 3. Romances of Real Life.— These may be divided into His- torical and Private. a. Historical Romance. — The nature of this is abundantly illus- trated in such poems as Arnold's Sohrab and Riisium, Scott's Marmion and Lady of the Lake, and Longfellow's Evangeline. The background is historical ; ' the fortunes of the personages are directly influenced by the great political movements of the time. 6. Private Romance. — Under this head we may put such poems as Tennyson's Enoch Arden, Browning's Flight of the Duchess. c. Idylls. — The idyll has been defined above to be a little pic- ture of still-life. The fashion was set by the Greek poet Theo- critus, and imitated in Roman literature, e. g., by Virgil, in his Eclogues. Since many of the personages in this class of poetry were shepherds or goatherds, the poetry itself was commonly called pastoral, or bucolic. In several of Virgil's eclogues the rustic characters discourse — quite out of their sphere — upon political and social events of the day. The medieval imitators of Virgil developed this feature to excess, so that a pastoral poem came to mean a short piece, usually a dialogue, in which 1 The ultimate source of the story of Sohrab and Rustum is mythical. But in the English poem all trace of myth is lost, and we read the story as one of purely human warfare. 202 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. the poet uttered, from the lips of nominal shepherds, his own views upon the subjects that interested him most deeply. This medieval type of pastoral poetry is represented in Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar, a collection of twelve eclogues (one for each month), in which the nominal shepherds discuss, among other topics, the religious controversies of the sixteenth century. Many of the allusions are veiled ; the poet evidently deemed it best to be cautious. It is to be remembered, however, that shepherds and shep- herdesses and goatherds are not essential to idylUc poetry. Nor is it at all necessary that the characters should be interested in other matters than those of every-day life. Tennyson has re- verted, in many of his shorter poems, to the spirit and manner of Theocritus. Among his genuine nineteenth-century idylls may be mentioned the following : The Miller's Daughter, The Gardener's Daughter, Dora, Audley Court, Walking to the Mail, Edwin Morris. It is also to be remembered that the term pastoral is not restricted to narrative poetry. One variety of tlie drama is known as the pastoral. In Milton's Lyddas (see p. 196) the life described and the names of tlie persons commemorated are conventionally pastoral. Similarly, Mat- thew Arnold's Thyrsis has touches of the pastoral. d. Ballads. — It is scarcely possible to define precisely a ballad, beyond saying that it is a narrative poem, usually very short, frequently with a good deal of dialogue, abrupt in style, impas- sioned in tone, and intensely dramatic or at least scenic in its action. The genuine ballad is a product of the folk, i. e., it can- not be assigned to any one author. But many excellent imita- tions of the folk-ballad have been written by eminent poets, e. g., Whittier's Maud Muller, Longfellow's Wreck of the Hespmis, Kingsley's Three Fishers, Cowper's humorous poem of John Gilpin. Most of the old folk-ballads are composed in rugged popular metre, with four or three beats to the line, and are upon hunting, fighting, and love-making.' DRAMATIC POETRY. Definition. — A Drama is neither a narrative nor a de- scription. It is a human story acted, or intended to be 1 An excellent colloption, for the .general public, is that by F. B. Gummere, Old English Ballads. Boston ; Ginn. 1894. POETRY—DRAMATIC. 203 acted, before our eyes. It is an imitation of life itself. It is not told, but acted. Every drama should bring upon the stage a number of persons in conflict with each other ; this conflict should be started, worked up to a crisis, and brought to a final solution — the denouement. What these persons say and do to each other on the stage em- bodies the action of the drama. Historical Sketch. — The English dramn, as we find it fully developed in the works of Shakespeare and his contemporaries, was the product of many literary forces, some of which had been working for several centuries. The principal of these forces were : the Church Plavs ; the IMoralities : the Chronicle- History ; the Classical or Pseudo-Classical drama ; the Con- tinental drama, chiefly the Italian and French. Church Plays. — In the later Middle Ages there was a remark- able growth of dramatic, or rather scenic, representations of events recorded in the Old and New Testaments. These repre- sentations were at first strictly religious, i. e., they were given by ecclesiastics, in the church-building, and in Latin. The usual occasions were the Easter and Christmas festivals. But in time these representations became secularized : the parts were taken by laymen, the vernacular was substituted for Latin, and the representation took place in public buildings, or in the city streets and squares. More and more attention was paid to costume and stage-effect. The religious play lost much of its sacredness and became an entertaining histrionic spectacle. The comic element also crept in. Certain persons of the Bible were frequently, if not usually, treated as mirth- provoking, e. g., Noah and hi.s wife, and Herod the Great, the author of the massacre of the Innocents at Bethlehem. Herod is usually represented as a ranting braggart ; Noah's wife refuses to enter the ark until she is soundly beaten. In the Townelc>- collection there is introduced, just before the scene of the An- nunciation to the shepherds, a broad farce of sheep-stealing in the fourteenth century. The exact designation of a church play founded upon the Bible is mystery.'^ In England there was a marked tendency to put together a 1 The better spelling would be mistery. The word iij not from the Latin mye- 204 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. number of mysteries, extending from the Creation to the Last Judgment. Such a collection was called a collective "mystery. Thus we have the York ' Towneley, Chester, and Coventry collections. Not only stories from the Bible but also the lives of the saints were dramatized. Such a representation was called a miracle play, and was nearly always given on the calendar day of the saint. But in England- the verbal distinction between mystery and miracle was not carefully observed, the mysteries being usually called miracles.' Thus Long- fellow has introduced in his Golden Legend a play which he calls The Nativity, a Miracle Play ; it is in imitation of the medieval church plays. The church plays, though mortally wounded by the Reformation, survived feebly through the reign of Elizabeth, dying with her. It is therefore not only possible, but quite probable, that Shakespeare at- tended the performance of a collective mystery like that of Coventry. Moralities. — These were dramatized allegories. At first they were mere representations of the struggle between virtue and vice in its ordinary aspects. But in the course of the Reforma- tion they were frequently inade the vehicle of religious con- troversy. Occasionally a morality was thrown into the form of a short story, in which three or four typical characters were introduced and a striking situation humorously presented. In this form the morality is called an interlude. A well-known specimen is that called The Four P's, by John Heywood, in the reign of Queen Mary. The four P's are the Pardoner, the Palmer, the Poticary, and the Pedlar. The comic situation is that of a competition, to decide which of the four can tell the biggest lie. The chief service rendered by the Morality-Inter- ludes to the later drama was in promoting the sense of humor and wit, and conciseness of dialogue. Chronicle-History. — The custom of dramatizing the biblical narrative led to the custom of dramatizing the more striking events in the reign of an English sovereign. The earliest known example is Bale's play of King John. In the hands of the im- terium, Greek fiutrTijpioi' " secret doctrine," but from the Old French mestier, Latin minigterium, " profession, trade, handicraft." A church play was usually acted by the members of a trade-guild. Thus the play of the Deluge, in the Chester collection, was given, very appropriately, by the guild of water- carriers. ' See A. W. Pollard, English Miracle Plays, Moralities and Interludes. Claren- don Press. 1890. (A very serviceable collection of specimens, with notes, glos- sary, and introduction.) K.L.Bates, The English Religions Drama. New York; Macmillan. 1893. POETRY— DRAMATIC. 205 mediate predecessors of Shakespeare and Shakespeare himself, the history-play became an acknowledged dramatic form. Classical Drama. — How far the genuine Greek drama was known and understood in England in the sixteenth century is a difficult question. It is probable that none of the great Eng- lish dramatists had a clear understanding of Greek art. Their knowledge of the classical drama was confined in the main to Plautus and Terence, and to the plays which pass under the name of Seneca. From these last they borrowed at least one practical feature, viz., the arrangement of a play in five acts. The observance of the Unities became a burning question in the latter part of the century. Certain Italian commentators upon Aristotle, mis- apprehending the spirit of his Poetics and knowing little of the actual practice of the Greeks, treated the practice of Seneca as an absolute canon of classical art. They laid down the rule of the three Unities : of place, of time, of action. A play may not shift from place to place, but must be confined to one city. The time represented is not to exceed twenty-four hours. The action is to be unbroken and centred around one or two persons. This doctrine was accepted in England by certain would be classical authorities ; notably by Sir Philip Sidney, who ex- erted all his influence to enforce it. But the great English dramatists, Greene, Peele, Marlowe, Shakespeare, paid little heed to it. In fact, not only was such a rigid doctrine in conflict with English notions of liter- ary freedom, but it was in conflict with dramatic precedent. For cen- turies the English play-goer had been accustomed to religious perform- ances in which the time represented extended through years and even centuries. To him there was no impropriety, then, in prolonging the time and shifting the scene of a secular performance. At all events, the three unities were not adopted by the great body of English playwrights. The most notable English drama that professedly observes them is Mil- ton's Samson Agonistes.^ Continental Drama. — The influence exerted upon the Eliza- bethan drama by the contemporary drama of France and Italy has not yet been studied exhaustively. As far as one may judge from present information, it seems that the influ- ence was not very great, certainly not in tragedy. France and Italy, having accepted the unities which England rejected, could scarcely exert much influence upon English dramatic structure. Only a moderate amount of dramatic material was 1 The unities are observed in The Tempest. But the observance of them does not seem to have been Shakespeare's professed object. S 206 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. borrowed, and some few plays were translated. But Italian comedy, being more free in form than Italian tragedy, exerted a greater direct influence. In the main, however, the English drama went its own peculiar way. Spirit of the Age. — To understand aright the great English drama centred around Shakespeare, we must keep in mind certain general facts. 1. The age was one of abnormal mental activity. The great religious disputes, ending in the rupture with Spain and the overthrow of the Armada, had started England upon its career of maritime supremacy. Bold, unscrupulous adventure was the fashion. But, running parallel with this outward enter- prise, there was an equally strong current of religious and philosophic inquiry, which manifested itself later in the Puri- tan Rebellion. Sidney and Raleigh may serve as representa- tives of this special combination of outward energy and inner spiritual life. 2. The stage was the only public outlet for artistic impulses and aspirations. Other European countries were cultivating other arts. Italy, in particular, was at the height of its devel- opment in painting and sculpture. England had only its drama ; the theatre was the meeting-place for those who wished to enjoy the gifts of art and for those who sought public distinction therein. 3. After centuries of change and slow growth, the language attained, in a large number of young writers, a freshness and a power of expression which have since been rarely equalled and never surpassed. The greatest poets of our century have paid homage to Elizabethan English as a medium of poetic utter- ance. It is not always possible to account for social phenomena. After all the recognizable elements have been carefully estimated, there ia a re- siduum of mystery. Of the great English dramatists in the latter part of Elizabeth's reign and throughout that of James I. we must assert this mucli, that they exhibit, in their conception and treatment of human character, an intuitive power which we vainly look for in any subse- quent generation. Dramatic Species. — The chief species of drama are Tragedy and Comedy. POETR Y—DRA MA TIC. 207 In Tragedy we have an action in which the leading person, hero or heroine, struggles against and finally succumbs to supe- rior powers. The struggle must be a noble one, /. e., not for a petty object, and the disastrous ending of the hero must purify the spirit of the beholder through the emotions of sympathy and fear. The beholder must be able to sympathize with the hero, iis with a being like himself, not wholly good and not wholly bad ; he must also be able to fear a like fate for himself in like circumstances. The superior powers against which the hero struggles were, in the Greek drama, the decrees of the gods, a fate technically called nemesis. In the English drama these powers are usually man's innate evil propensities. But the English drama is not wholly free from the doctrine of nemesis. Thus Shakespeare's Richard III. is a man without a conscience, a man of whom we cannot say that he succumbs to evil desires, for evil is his very life. He succumbs to the nemesis which overtakes excess. Macbeth, at the very beginning of the play, has already suc- cumbed to ambition ; the witches merely voice his own half- formed designs. The action of the play consists of a series of triumphs, followed by a series of reverses, in which Macbeth succumbs to the nemesis of excess. Othello and King Lear, on the other hand, represent genuine struggle with evil. Othello succumbs to the spirit of jealousy, Lear to unbridled anger. In Comedy also there is a conflict ; but it does not end dis- astrously, nor does it usually enter upon the graver side of life. More commonly it exhibits the foibles and follies of man, rather than his vices and crimes. The ordinary English reader's estimate of comedy is too much influ- enced by the example of such plays as Shakespeare's Tempest, As You Like It, Mei-chaiU of Venice, and Winter's Tale. These, especially the last two, almost touch the field of tragedy. The Taming of the Shrew, The Merry Wives of Windsor, and the humorous parts of Henry IV. are more representative of normal comedy. Furthermore, The Tempest is lifted above the ordinary by its supernatural machinery. The same may be said of A Midsummer Night's Dream ; the word dream here is significant. The aim of comedy- is to purify the manners, habits, and sometimes the vices of men, by holding them up to ridicule. Thus avarice, boasting, drunkenness, absurd social ambition, and the like are enacted on the comic stage. The spectator is 208 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. warned against such errors in himself, by seeing how absurd they appear in others. The Farce is a play, usually very short, in which there is no serious element, or scarcely any. The situation is improbable, the characters are evident exaggerations. We merely laugh and are satisfied. The chief utility of a farce is as a prelude to a more regular comedy ; or as an afterplay, relaxing the mind from the tension of a tragedy. Unity of Action. — It is stated above that the English drama- tists rejected the doctrine of the three unities. A few additional words, however, must be said concerning the unity of action. In every good drama, ancient or modern, unity of action, in some sense, is indispensable. But the ancients, and their modern imitators, chiefly the French classic dramatists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, interpreted the term unity with great strictness. They demanded the highest de- gree of singleness and concentration of action. They did not indulge in side-issues, or in any digression from and return to the main action. With this we may contrast the manner of Shakespeare, both in tragedy and in comedy. In King Lear there is the main action, the development of the direct relations between Lear and his three daughters. In addition to this, there is the sub-action of the Gloucester family, the intrigue of Edmund against Edgar ; and a second sub-action, the intrigues of Goneril and Regan with Edmund. Yet these sub- actions, and some others less conspicuous, though they seem at times to be digressions from the main issue, are all the while co- operating with it, hastening and intensifying the final ruin of Lear and Cordelia. In the Merchant of Venice there is the main action, a blending of the Jew story and the Caskets story, originally distinct. There is also the underplot of Jessica, Lorenzo, and Launcelot, which " finds occupation for " a number of minor characters and bridges over the interval between the execution of Antonio's bond to Shylock and its forfeiture.' DIDACTIC POETRY AND SATIRE. Didactic Poetry. — The object of Didactic poetry is to combine pleasure with direct instruction. But to be genu- ' Moulton, Shakespeare, pp. 76, 206. POETR Y—DIDA CTIO. 209 inely didactic, the poem must be lyric in form ; if it is narrative or dramatic, it comes under the head of Alle- gory or Morality (see pp. 125, 204). Furthermore, the instruction must be philosophical or ethical, rather than technical ; it must liberalize and purify the, reader's spirit, instead of merely imparting useful knowledge. Memorial veraes, in which facts, rules, names, dates, etc. are thrown into metre, usually rhymed metre, in order that they njay be better re- membered, e. g. : — Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November. are not poetry. Nor can we confer the distinction of poetry upon the rhyming chronicles of English history, popular in the Middle Ages ; they are merely versified facts, interspersed with fiction from the romances of chivalry. Virgil's Georgics, in substance a discourse upon rural life, are com- posed in the poet's best style. " With the various discussions on corn, vines, cattle, and bees, he has interwoven every philosophical, moral, or mythological episode on which he could with propriety seize." The Georgics have always been a favorite study with Latinists. But it may be suspected that they owe their chief attractiveness to the poet's pol- ished diction, rich vocabulary of rural terms, and array of facts. With- out the Georgics we should be ignorant of many important features of Roman life. Hence it is a not unwarrantable inference that the value of the Georgics is scholarly rather than purely poetical. Virgil has had not a few imitators in English, e. g., Armstrong, in his Art of Preserving Health, Erasmus Darwin in his Botanic Garden, Zoono- mia, and Phytologia. But if Virgil's Georgics are indeed poetry, though of a debatable kind. It is quite certain that the English imitations are not. For practical modern purposes, it is safer to restrict the con- ception of didactic poetry to such poems as treat of human feelings and the problems of human life in a philosophic spirit. It would be useless to attempt to define a didactic poem. The nature of it is best learned from concrete examples. There are two general classes : that in which the didactic element predominates, and that in which the emotional pre- dominates. The first class is less poetical and less interesting to the gen- eral reader. Some of the poems, indeed, are decidedly tire- U 210 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. some. One of the best in the class is Pope's Essay mi Man; one of the worst is Tapper's Proverbial Philosophy ; in the middle we may put Young's Night Thoughts. Such poems as Thomson's Seasons, Cowper's Task, Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagination, Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, Eoger's Pleasures of Memory, stand between the first class and the second. They exhibit a tendency to description of nature, on the one hand ; on the other, to narrative. Sometimes the didactic pre- dominates, sometimes the emotional. The second class includes some of the treasures of our litera- ture. It is enough to mention only one or two, e. g., Bryant's Thanatopsis, Wordsworth's lantern Abbey, and many passages in the Excursion; as a whole, the last-named poem is a quasi-auto- biography. In reading such poetry we feel ourselves lifted to the higher ideal plane mentioned at p. 195. Satire. — As the object of didactic poetry is to inculcate wisdom jlirectly, so the object of Satire is to inculcate it indirectly, by exposing folly and vice to ridicule. Satire may be directed against individuals, or against classes of men, or against social and political movements. Frequently these three kinds of object are combined. Mere denunciation in metrical form, however keen, is not enough to constitute genuine satire. The idealizing spirit is as necessary here as in other kinds of poetry, but it operates inversely. In didactic poetry, for example, the poet points out certain ideals to which we should aspire. In satire the poet points out wherein the persons and institutions at- tacked fall short of their own ideals. In this discrepancy between the man as he appears to liimself, and the man as he appears to others, lies tlie sting of satire. E. g., Dryden thus characterizes one who had de- serted to the other side : — They got a villain, and we lost a fool. Absalom and Achitophel, ii. 363. The contrast between what the man attempted and what he actually accomplished is highly ludicrous. There is a like contrast in the sketch of the Duke of Buckingham : — A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts, and nothing long; POETRY— SATIRE. 211 But, in the course of one revolving moon, Was chymlst, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon. Absalom, and Achitophel, i. 545. The great masters of satire are Dryden, Pope, Byron, and — in America — Lowell. Satire is not usually read in school. Yet there can be no theoretical objection to reading extracts from The Biglow Papers. A few pages of Lowell's brilliant but not unkind ridicule would at least enable us to realize Burns's injunction : " To see ourselves as others see us." For instance, the following self-portrait of the politician : Deak Sir, — You wish to know my notions On sartin pints thet rile the land : There's nothin' thet my natur so shuns Ez bein' mum or underhand ; I'm a straight-spoken kind o' creetur Thet blurts right out wut's in his head, An' ef I've one pecooler feetur. It is a nose thet wunt be led. So, to begin at the beginnin'. An' come direcly to the pint, I think the country's underpinnin' Is some consid'ble out o' jint ; I aint agoin' to try your patience By tellin' who done this or thet, I don't make no insinooations, I jest let on I smell a rat. Xhet is, 1 mean, it seems to me so. But, ef the public think I'm wrong, I wunt deny but wut I be so, — An', fact, it don't smell very strong ; My mind's tu fair to lose its balance An' say wich party hez most sense ; There may be folks o' greater talence Thet can't set stiddier on the fence. I'm an eclectic ; ez to choosin' 'Twixt this an' thet, I'm plaguy lawth ; I leave a side that looks like losin', But (wile there's doubt) I stick to both ; I Stan' upon the Constitution, Ez preudunt statesmun say, who've planned A way to git the most profusion 0' chances ez to ware they'll stand. — Biglow Papers. CHAPTER VIII. PROSE COMPOSITION. Prose is the term applied to all composition which is not in verse. It means the ordinary, straightforward manner of discourse, in distinction from the metrical form which characterizes poetry. The chief varieties of Prose composition are Letters, News, Editorials, Reviews, Essays, Treatises, Travels, His- tory, Fiction, Discourses. I. LETTERS. A Letter is a written communication addressed by the writer to some other person or persons. Subject Important. — Comparatively few persons are re- quired to practice the other varieties of composition which have been named, whether prose or verse. But every one has occasion to write letters ; hence the great practical importance of this subject. Variety. — No species of composition admits of greater variety. Letters are as various in style as are the characters, the wants, the occupations, or the pleasures of men. Some- times writers, in treating of literary or scientific subjects, cast their essays into the form of letters. Such letters, however, are in fact treatises, and are subject to the rules for that kind of composition. Real Letters, — Real letters are such as grow out of the actual occasions of life, and are addressed by one person to 212 PROSE COMPOSITION—LETTERS. 213 another, as business, pleasure, affection, or fancy may dictate. Whether a letter should be easy or formal in its style, whether it should be plain or ornate, serious or joyous, matter-of-fact or sentimental, will depend upon the occasion. CoT^r-espondeiice.— Epistolary writing becomes a distinct species of composition when it is of the easy or familiar kind ; when it is conver- sation carried on upon paper, between two friends at a distance. Such an intercourse, when well conducted, may be very agreeable to readers of taste. If the subject of the letters is important, they will be more valuable. Even though there should be nothing very important in the subject, yet, if the letters are written in a sprightly manner, and with native grace and ease, they may still be entertaining : more especially if there is anything to interest us in the persons who write them. Letters of Distinguished Persons.— Kence the curiosity which the public has always shown concerning the letters of eminent persons. We expect to discover in them somewhat of the character of the writers. It is childish, indeed, to expect that in letters we are to find the whole heart of the author unveiled. Yet, as letters from one friend to an- other make the nearest approach to conversation, we expect to see more of the character displayed in them than in other productions, pre- pared for public view. We please ourselves with beholding the writer in a situation which aUows him to be at his ease, and to give vent occa- sionally to the overflowings of his heart. What is required in a Letter.— Mnch, therefore, of the merit and the agreeableness of epistolary writing will depend on its introducing us into some acquaintance with the writer. Here, if anywhere, we look for the man, not for the author. The first and fundamental re- quisite is to be natural and simple ; for a stiff and labored manner is as bad in a letter as it is in conversation. This does not banish sprightli- ness and wit. These are graceful in letters, as they are in conversation, when they flow easily and without being studied ; when employed so as to season, not to cloy. The style of letters should not be too highly polished ; it ought to be neat and correct, but no more. Over-nicety about words betrays study ; hence musical periods, and appearance of number and harmony in arrangement, should be carefully avoided. The Best Letters are commonly such as the authors have written with most facility. What the heart or imagination dictates, always flows readily ; but when the writer is not truly interested in his subject, he is under constraint. Hence those letters of mere compliment, congratula- tion, or affected condolence, which have cost the writer most labor in composing, are apt to be stiflF and tiresome to the reader. 214 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. Carelessness. — It ought to be remembered, at the same time, that the ease and simplicity recommended in correspondence, are not to be understood as importing entire carelessness. In writing to the most intimate friend, a certain degree of attention, both to the subject and the style, is requisite and becoming. This is no more than we owe both to ourselves and to the friend with whom we correspond. A slovenly and negligent manner of writing is a marlc of want of respect. Special Directions. — All that needs to be said in the way of special directions refers to the form of a letter. Custom has prescribed certain forms for this species of composition, and these forms for the most part are founded either in practical convenience or in social propriety. The Form. — The points in the form of a letter requir- ing attention are the Heading, the Address, the Subscrip- tion, and the Superscription. 1. The Heading. The first thing to be observed in writing a letter is the date or heading. This includes two points, namely, the place where, and the time when, the letter is written. 1. The Place. — In beginning a letter we put first of all, at the top of the page, the place at which the letter purports to be written. In this heading, all those particulars should be given which will be needed for addressing the reply. Street and Number. — If the letter comes from a city, it is well for the heading to give the street and number, as well as the name of the city. These items are usually arranged in the following order: The number of the house, the name of the street, the name of the city ; thus, 1828 Pine Street, Philadelphia. State. — If the city is a very "large one, lilce New York or Philadel- pliia, there will be no necessity for adding the name of the State. But in ordinary cases, and wherever uncertainty might arise for the reader, the name of the State should be added ; thus, Easton, Pennsylvania. Contractions. — If the name of the State is contracted, care should be taken to make the contraction in such a way that what is meant for one State cannot be mistaken for another; thus Md. (Maryland) and Me. (Maine), Vt. (Vermont) and Va. (Virginia), in careless manuscript, are often confounded. New York and New Jersey should always be written out in full. N. Y. and N. J. are so much alike in manuscript that hun- PROSE COMPOSITION— LETTERS. 215 dreds of letters every year go to Trenton, New York, that are meant for Trenton, New Jersey. In fact, it is always more prudent to write the State name in full. County. — If the town is quite small, and especially if it is presumably unfamiliar to the person to whom the letter is addressed, the name of the County should be added. This enables one's correspondent to insure the safe delivery of his reply. If the letter is written from a place where there is no post-oflSce, the writer should be careful to add the post-town also; thus, Dutch Neck, near Bridgeton, Cumberland County, New Jersey. Why Important.— A correspondent, in replying to a letter, naturally casts his eye to the heading to see where his reply shall be addressed. If the forms are given as above, he has all the particulars required. 2. The Time. — It is important in every kind of a letter, and especially in business letters, to denote the time of writing, that is, to register the month, the day of the month, and the year. This date is the second thing to be given. It likewise is put at the top of the page, and immediately after the name of the place, and the particulars are given in the order just named : thus, January 28, 1897. Form of Heading. — Whether the heading should all be in one line, or whether it should be broken into two lines, the words expressing the place being in one line, and those express- ing the time in another, is a matter of practical convenience. If the heading is long, it is usually broken into two lines; if short, it is given in one. Thus : — Bursonville, Bucks Co., Penna., March 24, 1897. Eaaton, Penna., April 1, 1897. Date at the Bottom. — Some letter-writers have a fancy for putting the time and place at the bottom of the letter instead of the top, but this is not to be recommended. The practical conveniences of the usual position are superior. 2. The Address. The Beginning. — We begin our letters with Sir, Dear Sir, My Dear Sir, Kev. Sir, My Dear Dr. Smith, My Dear Lizzie, etc., etc., according to the relations of respect, intimacy, or affection existing between us and the one addressed. Between relatives 216 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. and intimate friends the beginning may be in the most familiar form of conversation, either affectionate or playful. The Close. — Some writers still continue the practice, now becoming obsolete, of ending the letter with the full name, title, and address of the person addressed, where the beginning has been familiar and informal. Thus, beginning. My Dear Lizzie, and ending, Miss Elizabeth Smith, 423 Street, Philadelphia. This method has the practical advantage, that should the let- ter be accidentally delivered by the post-office to the wrong person and be opened by him, or her, it can be remailed to the right person. Business Letters. — In business letters the full address is placed at the beginning, instead of at the end. Thus : — Messrs. Bldredge & Brother, Philadelphia, Pa. Gentlemen : This method has many advantages, and is to be commended. By letters of business are here meant, not merely those which treat of buying and selling, but all communications which bear upon the official position of the person addressed. Thus the proper form of addressing the head of an American University would be : President C. W. Eliot, Harvard University. 3. The Subscription. In closing a letter the writer subscribes his name with more or less precision, and in such terms of respect or affection as the circumstances may warrant. Terms Vary. — These terms, like those of the address, vary according to the relations of the parties, so that no general rule for them can be given. Business letters very commonly close with " Your obedient servant," or, if from a firm, " Your obedient servants." PMOSE COMPOSITION— LETTERS. 217 Initials. — Many persons, in subscribing their name, have a fancy for giving only the initials of their first, or given name ; thus, R. E. Jones, J. M. Smith. No one can determine from these signatures whether the writer is Reuben or Rebecca, James or Juliet, and the person addressed, if a stranger, is at a loss whether to send his reply to Mr. Jones or Miss Jones, to Mr. Smith or Mrs. Smith. Hence, in writing to a stranger, especially for the first time, a lady should always prefix Miss, or Mrs., to her name. Married 'Women and Widows. — A married woman usu- ally gives, with the Mrs., the first name of her husband, as long as he lives ; but after his death she usually gives her own name. Thus, Yours truly, Mrs. William Southcote ; Yours truly, Mrs. Joanna Southcote. Supposing both these to be written by the same person, we infer from the former that the writer is Mr. Southcote's wife ; from the latter, that she is his widow. Terms of Endearment. — The particular terms of endear- ment used in the subscription to letters of love and friendship will vary, of course, with the fancy of the writers. In general it may be remarked, however, that "loving" is a much more expressive word than " affectionate." Arrangement.— The arrangement of the subscription, as of the address and the heading, is a matter of practical conveni- ence. Usually, however, the terms of respect or affection occupy a line by themselves, sometimes two lines, and the name of the writer occupies another line. Thus : — Very respectfully, Your obedient servant, John G. Smith. Examples. — The following addresses and subscriptions have been copied from writers of good standing, and may serve as models, according to circumstances : — My Dear Mr. Jebb, Most truly yours, Alexander Knox. My Dear Sir, Affectionately yours, John M. Mason. My Dear God-child, Your unseen God-father and friend, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. X 218 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIO. My Dear Sir William, Yours very sincerely, Hannah More. My Dear Moore, Yours ever, and most affectionately, Byron. My Dearest Love, Your aflfectionate husband, Robert Burns. 4. The Superscription. By the Superscription of a letter is meant the address which is written upon the envelope. Why Important. — Great care is needed, both because cor- rectness in the superscription is the chief means for securing the safe delivery of the letter, and because any breach of pro- priety in the superscription provokes criticism. ■ What is inside of one's letter may meet the eye of only the most indulgent friendship, and — if not too inelegant or careless — may count upon forgiveness. But the outside usually undergoes the scrutiny of post-office clerks, letter-carriers, servants, and the like. Penmanship. — The superscription of a letter should be written with the utmost legibility, with neatness, and with some attention to elegance, but without ornamental flourishes. Scrupulous Exactness. — The superscription should be written with scrupulous verbal exactness and attention to conventional propriety. The Superscription consists of three parts, the Name of the person addressed, the Title, and the Residence. 1. The Name. — Intimate friends often have familiar names for each other, nicknames, which they use in the freedom of conversation. These may be allowable inside of the letter, but never outside. The name on the outside should be written with formal propriety and correctness, as if penned by an en- tire stranger. 2. The Title. — The chief difficulty in addressing a letter is to know what title to give. Com-mon Titles. — Every one now, except among the Friends, has some title. A young lad usually has the prefix Master, and an unmar- PROSE COMPOSITION— LETTERS. 219 ried woman the prefix Miss. The eldest unmarried daughter has merely the prefix Miss, as Miss Montague. Younger daughters are addressed as Miss Helen Montague, Miss Emma Montague, etc. Every married woman or widow has the prefix Mrs. With regard to men, the usage is not absolutely fixed. Some write William Gray, Esq. ; others prefer Mr. William Gray. The latter form is now gaining ground. Certain Professional Titles.— Medical men have the title M. D. after their names. College graduates with the degree of Ph. D. are ad- dressed by that title. In such cases the Mr. before the name should be dropped. It would be ridiculous to write Mr. Thomas Dobbs, M. D., or Mr. John Bates, Ph. D. Two Titles. — It is customary to employ both the two higher titles, D. D., LL. D., if the person addressed happens to have them both, and the LL. D. in such a case is written last, as James McCosh, D. D., LL. D., not James McCosh, LL. D., D. D. Clergymen. — Clergymen always have the prefix Rev., and Bishops that of Rt. Rev., and this is usually retained even where they have U. D. or some other honoraiy title, after their name, as Rev. John Maclean, D. D., LL. D. Honorables. — Judges, Members of Congress, and some other high oificers of Government, have the prefix Honorable. This title prefixed to a name extinguishes the Mr. or the Esq., but not any title of special distinction. It would not be right to say Hon. Joel Jones, Esq., but one may with entire propriety say Hon. Joel Jones, LL. D. Full Name.— Where an honorary prefix such as Rev. or Hon. is iised, it is more respectful to give the full name, as Rev. William A. Butler, not Rev. Mr. Butler ; Hon. Salmon P. Chase, not Hon. Judge Chase. Governors.— The Governor of a State is usually addressed as His Excellency, and this is written in a separate line, with the full name in a second line, and the oflScial title on a third hne. Thus :— His Excellency, Daniel H. Hastings, Governor of Pennsylvania. Etiquette in Washington has prescribed the following form, in ad- dressing the President of the United States : On the outside of the letter, To the President, Executive Mansion, Washington, D. C. Inside: "Mr. President, I have the honor," etc. These forms are the strict etiquette. Not one word more or less is necessary. To write " To the President of the United States," would be surplusage. 220 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 3. The Residence. — In writing upon the envelope of a let- ter the residence of the person addressed, the same general rules should be observed which have already been given for writing one's own residence at the top of the letter. Name of the State. — The only additional rule needed is that the name of the State should be written out in full, espe- cially if the letter is to go to some other State than that in which it is mailed. The Reason, — There are so many towns having the same name, that in the haste of post-oflSce business a letter is often sent to two or three different places before it reaches the right one, and sometimes it is lost altogether. But there are never two post-offices of the same name in the same State, and the postmasters are always familiar with the loca- tion of all the offices in their own State. The name of the State being written in full, in a clear, legible hand, on the face of the letter, it is almost sure to go to the right State, and being once in the State, it is equally sure of reaching the right office, and by the most direct route.' Arrangement of the Items. — It is proper to observe, also, that in writing the residence on the envelope, instead of put- ting it all in one line, as is done at the head of a letter, each item of the residence forths a separate line. Thus : — Bridgeton, Cumberland County, New Jersey. 315 Green St., Trenton, New Jersey. "Where to put the Name. — There should be a clear space for the postage-stamp in the upper right-hand corner. The name and title should occupy a line that is about central between the top of the envelope and the bottom. The name should not be crowded off to the extreme right of the envelope, but should be placed about centrally between the two ends. This makes ' At a critical moment in American affairs, (the time of " John Brown's raid" at Harper's Ferry,) Governor Wise, of Virginia, wrote an important let- ter to Governor Curtin, of Pennsylvania. The letter was addressed to " Har- risburg. Pa." The country postmaster, being naturally more familiar with the towns in his own State than with those farther off, and mistaking Pa. for Va., mailed the letter to Harris[onlburg, Virginia; before the mistake was discovered the rapid march of events had made the letter too late. PROSE COMPOSITION-NEWS. 221 the name more conspicuous, and gives to the whole an appear- ance of symmetry. II. NEWS. Next to letter-writing, the most prolific species of com- position in modern times is News-writing. Amount. — Tlie items which fill the news columns of the daily and weekly papers are enormous in amount, and con- stitute the chief reading of the public. Literary Character.— The literary quality of the news columns is not, perhaps, of a very high order ; but the prac- tical importance of this class of reading requires a study of the rules which should govern it. Things to be Aimed at.— The chief qualities of style to be cultivated by the writer of news are accuracy, condensa- tion, and perspicuity. The higher graces of style lie in a differ- ent field. The news writer has not the leisure for such orna- ments, nor, if he had, would their use be in accordance with his task. What the reader requires of him is merely a state- ment of facts, and this statement should aim at the three qualities just named. 1. Accuracy. — By this is not meant the truth of the statements; that is a question of morals, not of style. What is meant is that the language should be accurate ; that it should convey the meaning which the writer intends. Sources of Mistake. — News writers err iu this respect, partly from an inaccurate use of words, and partly from a careless construction of sentences. Thus : — In reporting a man's death, if the newsman happens to be ambitious of fine writing, he may tell us of the man's "demise," which suggests something different from what -he intended. Another reporter, careless in construction, speaks of "inventing a ballot-box arrangement which cannot be stuffed," though how an arrangement is to be stuffed is a mystery. Another tells of " a mad dog which was killed after several other dogs had been bitten by EU Beck." He meant to say that the dog was 222 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. killed by Eli Beck. What he does say, grammatically, is that the other dogs were bitten by Eli. " The Military Committee did not report against Mr. B., of Tennessee, for selling his cadetship to-day." The reporter meant to say, " The Com- mittee did not report to-day." The portions of rhetoric which are particularly important for correcting inaccuracies of this kind are those treated in the chapters on Diction and Sentences. 2. Condensation. — By this it is not meant that the news writer should suppress the particulars which give body and substance to a statement of facts. These par- ticulars are what the reader wants ; and the best reporter, in any case of special interest, is generally the one who can gather and give these particulars with the greatest minuteness. What is Meant. — The condensation required of the reporter relates to the number of words used in expressing any particu- lar item of information. An expert will express the item fully in about half the number of words used by a bungler, and the report will only gain in animation by this condensation. The unnecessary expletives with which a news paragraph is often inflated originate in bad taste and conceit. The writers pelt the public with inflated bladders, when they should use solid shot. A Practical Rule. — The beginner in this species of compo- sition will find it a safe rule, after having written a paragraph, to revise it by striking out on an average about one-half the words. He will be surprised at the skill to be acquired in con- densation. 3. Perspicuity. — People read news in haste; the most imperative demand upon the writer, therefore, is clearness. The meaning should be so plain " that he may run that readeth it." Different from Other Reading. — There may be times, in- deed, when we find pleasure in solving the mystery of subtle thoughts and involved syntax. But we are never in this mood PROSE COMPOSITION— EDITORIALS. 223 over our morning newspaper. What it has to tell us in the way of news should be told in the clearest, most straightfor- ward manner. How Obtained. — Perspicuity is to be obtained chiefly by skill in the construction of sentences. This matter has been fully treated in Chapter III. pp. 71-80. In the present place it is enough to call the student's attention to the remarks upon the position of adverbs and modifying clauses and to the careful use of pronouns. In general the sentences in reporting style should be short rather than long, and simple rather than involved. A Serious Fault. — The most serious fault of style among news writers, at the present day, is their propensity to indulge in the use of slang words and phrases. This mistake of slang for wit is a sore evil. It may not perhaps lead to a deteriora- tion of the language, as many fear ; for the fault is too glaring and ofiensive to lead to general imitation. But it is a serious drawback to the pleasure with which one opens one's paper for information in regard to the news of the day. Slang is next door to ribaldry, and neither of them is pleasant company at the breakfast table. ni. EDITORIALS. In the arrangement of a modern newspaper — and the same is true to some extent in magazines — a portion of the space is reserved for the expression of the opinions of the editor, or editors, on current topics of the day. These editorial contributions, called in England "leaders," are one of the characteristic products of modern times, and form a noticeable species of prose composition. Order of Composition. — ^The style suited to the editorial columns is not only of a high order, but is peculiar to itself A first-class editorial admits, indeed, of almost every grace and excellence of style known to rhetoric. But one may have all these excellences, may be an able writer in other departments of literature, and yet not succeed as a writer of editorials. Not Impersonal Truth. — An editorial is not a dissertation, or treatise ; not a mere tissue of abstract, impersonal truths. 224 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. On the contrary, it is permeated with the personality of the writer. Whatever ability, knowledge, wit, or wisdom is ex- hibited in the paper, is supposed to emanate from some un- seen oracle sitting veiled behind the mysterious " we," and acting as public teacher and guide. The opinions expressed have an added weight from being given as his, — the opinions of this unknown, all-knowing Editor. Editor's Estimate of his Own Position.— An important requisite, therefore, in a writer of editorials, is the ability to comprehend aright the responsibilities of his office of public teacher. He must know how to use with vigor, and yet with discretion, a certain form of self-assertion. It is not, however, the mere use of "we" that makes a piece of com- position an editorial. The best editorials employ this formula very sparingly, and sometimes omit it altogether. But the writer, in penning such articles, conceives himself as one set to teach. His business is to give his opinions, for the express purpose of influencing the opinions of others. Editorials and News. — It will be seen at once how difler- ent is the business of writing editorials from that of writing news. The one simply records the facts of the day ; the other discusses those facts, and expresses opinions about them, com- mending or condemning, explaining or defending, persuading and exhorting, assigning causes and suggesting remedies. The one is satisfied with clearness, accuracy, and brevity; the other employs all the devices of the most finished rhetoric, and im- plies a familiarity with the entire range of subjects embraced in the scope of the newspaper. IV. REVIEWS. Nature. — A review differs in several respects from an editorial. In the first place, it is an expression of opinion, not upon passing topics of the day or the hour, but upon questions of more permanent interest. In the next place, this expression of opinion is in the form of a discussion of the merits and faults of some newly published book or treatise and the right and wrong of the author's views. Thirdly, while an editorial seldom exceeds a column in PROSE COMPOSITION— ESSAYS. 225 length, a review may extend through many columns of a newspaper, or many pages of a magazine. Many daily and weekly newspapers and nearly all monthly magazines have a review-department. There are also some weekly papers which make a specialty of reviews ; some even contain nothing but reviews and short paragraphs of news upon books, authors, and general topics of literature or science. Kinds. — There are two principal kinds of review. In the one, the reviewer merely gives an abridgment of the contents of the book, stating wherein he approves of or dis- sents from the author's statements. In the other, the re- viewer modifies, or expands, or gives a different applica- tion to the author's views, and thereby enables the reader to see how the author and the reviewer stand in relation to the whole subject. A review of the first kind is sometimes called a book-notice. Editorial Tone. — Reviews, no less than editorials, are, in nearly all papers and magazines, regarded as the organ of a certain set of opinions. Consequently the reviewer adopts the editorial tone and the editorial "we." But in a few papers the reviews are signed by the writer. In such reviews the writer is understood to express merely his individual opinions, and is at hberty to use the personal " I." V. ESSAYS. Nature. — The word Essay means properly a trial, or attempt. As used in rhetoric it designates that mode of writing in which the writer undertakes to give a summary of his views upon a matter of public interest. Kinds. — Essays differ according to the nature of the subject treated and also according to the manner of treatment. Thus the subject may be of a scientific kind, as for example in one of Tyndall's books, entitled " Fragments of Science : a Series of Detached Essays, Lectures, and Reviews." The substance of the book is a brief statement of the principal doctrines of phys- io 226 COMPOSITION AND RHETOttlC. ical science, adapted to the unprofessional reader. In one of Macaulay's essays, on the other hand, the subject is not of a scientific kind, but is taken from history, biography, politics, or literature. In the manner of treatment, again, an essay may be either editorial, or personal, or strictly impersonal. Usually an essay in science is strictly impersonal, that is to say, the facts and doc- trines are set forth without reference to the writer's personality. But certain writers in science, notably Huxley and Tyndall, are apt to introduce themselves, especially when they narrate their personal experiences in conducting scientific investigation. On the other hand, an essay in political history or literature is sel- dom strictly impersonal ; it is either editorial or strongly per- sonal. Thus, Macaulay's essays are all in the editorial form, those of Matthew Arnold are personal. Of Lowell's essays some are editorial, others are personal. Oonversational Essays. — The essays of certain men, in- deed, are so personal that they are classified by themselves as "personal essays," or "conversational." A personal essay, in this sense, is a rambling discourse upon books and men and events ; it has no principle of unity other than the individuality of the writer. If this individuality is sufficiently important and attractive, we gladly put ourselves under its influence, without estimating closely the positive and methodical information that we may gain. The writings of Montaigne are usually cited as specimens of this personal essay; many of the "Spectator" papers introduce the personality of Addison and Steele, thinly disguised, if disguised at all. Many of De Quincey's essays are highly personal ; some, indeed, are almost autobiographic. Review Essays. — Many of the best known essays in Eng- lish literature, for example those by Macaulay, begin as re- views. This custom, established by the Edinburgh Renew and its successors and rivals, still survives, but is gradually giving way. The Edinburgh was founded in 1802, with the object of giving to the public sound literary criticism of the best current literature. It was to be, as its title implied, a " Review " of new books. And many of its articles were, in fact, reviews, though often of considerable length. But to some of the Edirir burgh writers, notably to Macaulay, a new book was not so PROSE COMPOSITION— TREATISES. 227 much a thing to be criticised exhaustively, as an occasion for advancing their own views upon the subject treated in the book. Macaulay's maldea essay, on Milton, in the Edinburgh of August, 1825, is the best illustration that can be given. It has, for its heading, the title of the book ostensibly reviewed : — "Joannis Milton, de Doctrina Christiana libri duo posthumi. A Treatise on Christian Doctrine, compiled from the Holy Scriptures alone. By John Milton, translated from the original by Charles Sum- ner, M. A., etc., 1825." This is followed by six short paragraphs. In the first, Macaulay tells of the discovery, in 1823, of Milton's long-lost Latin manuscript treatise on the doctrines of Christianity. In the second, he says a few words in praise of Mr. Sumner as editor and translator. In the third, he speaks — also briefly — of Milton's Latinity. The fourth is a still briefer estimate of the book as a fresh evidence of Milton's independ- ence of thought. In the fifth, he touches lightly upon certain of Mil- ton's heterodox views in this treatise. In the sixth, he expresses the belief that this treatise, now the object of much discussion, will fall into neglect. Then, in the seventh paragraph, he makes an exceedingly skilful transition to his real subject, a portraiture of Milton himself, poet and man: — " We wish, however, to avail ourselves of the interest, transient as it may be, which this work has excited. The dexterous Capuchins never chose to preach on the life and miracles of a saint till they had awak- ened the devotional feelings of their auditors by exhibiting some relic of him, — a thread of his garment, a lock of his hair, or a drop of his blood. On the same principle, we intend to take advantage of the late interesting discovery, and, while this memorial of a great and good man is still in the hands of all, to say something of his moral and intellectual qualities. Nor, we are convinced, will the severest of our readers blame us, if, on an occasion like the present, we turn for a short time from the topics of the day, to commemorate, in all love and reverence, the genius and virtues of John Milton, the poet, the statesman, the philosopher, the glory of English literature, the champion and martyr of English liberty." VI. TREATISES. A Treatise is a composition in which the principles of a subject of study are set forth systematically. Different from Essays. — Treatises differ from essays, not only in being more formal and elaborate, but also in being 228 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. planned for use by the student. They are usually divided into chapters, sections, sub-sections, and so on. More Complete. — Another point of difference is, that while an essay presents merely certain aspects of a subject, a treatise presents the subject, or a definite portion of it, exhaustively. An essay on architecture, for instance, might merely show the uses of architecture, or might advocate the superiority of the Gothic over the classic ; but a treatise on architecture would present the whole subject in all its varieties and subdivisions. Difference of Style.— Treatises are usually plain in style, rarely admitting of figures of speech, or other rhetorical orna- ment, while essays give full opportunity for the use of every kind of rhetorical beauty. Difference of Subject. — Essays more commonly treat of literary or historical subjects, which are not capable of, or have not yet been reduced to, a scientific classification ; trea- tises are usually upon some branch of positive science, as astronomy, botany, algebra, logic, metaphysics, and the like. Impersonal. — A treatise should be impersonal, setting forth the bare facts and truths of the subject ; in an essay, the thoughts are more or less tinctured with the personality of the writer. A treatise is usually an exposition of certain truths ; an essay, the advocacy of certain opinions. Text-Books, whether those for scientific reference or those for study in schools and seminaries of learning, are treatises. This branch of literature, though not unknown to the ancients, has received an enormous development in modern times. Vn. TRAVELS. Books of travel come nearer to diaries than to any other kind of writing. Compared with a Diary. — A book of travel usually con- tains a record of things seen or done from day to day, and in that respect is like a diary. On the other hand, travels are written, not to assist the memory of the writer, but avowedly for the information of others. Accuracy. — The traveller is under a special obligation of accuracy in regard to dates, and indeed to facts generally. PSOSE COMPOSITION— HISTORY. 229 That which gives the chief value to a book of travel is the in- formation which it contains. It tells the reader things which he cannot see for himself. Other Qualities. — Although accuracy is the first quality demanded in travels, the graces of style are not excluded. Some of the travellers of the present day are very successful as humorists, and their books abound in passages of eloquent description and exciting narrative. But it is hardly to be ex- pected of works written in the haste and excitement of actual travel, — and unless so written they want some of the freshness and truth which are their highest charm, — that they should have that entire finish of style which we demand of works written at the writer's leisure. Travels are often written in the form of letters. Vm. HISTORY. Nature. — In the absence of a commonly accepted theory of history, it will be enough to define it approxi- mately as an attempt to set forth the principal events of the life, or of periods in the life, of a certain people, and to explain these events with reference to the agents and causes which have brought them about. Difficulties. — The difficulties which attend the study and the writ- ing of history are numerous. Only a few of the most evident can be mentioned here. 1. It is often difficult, sometimes impossible, to ascertain the exact facts, such as dates and localities of public events, and the like, espe- cially if the history deal with the remote past. Thus the history of England from the beginning of the fifth to near the end of the sixth century is very obscure, for lack of contemporary records. 2. It is difficult to estimate correctly the characters and motives of the persons who have figured prominently as leaders of great move- ments. 3. It is still more difficult to estimate so-called " popular movements," that is, those impulses which originate in the folk and take possession of it. In nearly all revolutionary movements, whether in church or in state, there is this popular element, which often seems to elude analysis. 4. It is difficult, though highly important, to determine the influ- ence of climate, soil, and other physical agencies upon the formation and growth of national character. U 230 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIC. 5. There is the diflBoulty of treating the past dispassionately. We have our prejudices, our likes and dislikes, which we transfer to the past. We identify our own party of the present with one of the parties in the past, and sympathize with it and condemn its opponents, with- out making sure that this identification is well founded. 6. There is need of the most extensive knowledge. Even the mere reader of history, if he is to be a genuine reader, must have a ready familiarity with many languages, and with many branches of know- ledge, such as geography, statistics, jurisprudence, literature, and so forth. Historical Style. — There is, in strictness, no style peculiar to the writing of history. But in all historical writing certain qualities are desirable, not to say indispensable. In the first place, the historian's style should be dignified, for his subject is a grave one. Brilliant flashes of wit and highly figurative language are not desirable ; they give to the discussion a touch of insincerity. Yet the gravity should not degenerate into dul- ness. ,The reader is to be interested, without being amused. In the second place, the style should be clear, simple, and direct, leaving the reader unconscious of any efibrt on the writer's part. In the third place, the best style is one per- fectly uniform, one that moves at a uniform pace. This uni- formity will save both writer and reader fatigue. It is the re- markable uniformity of Gibbon's style that constitutes his pecu- liar attractiveness; whereas the fitfulness of Macaulay's style detracts from his otherwise great merits. Character-delineation. — To the general reader the most attractive passages of any history are those in which the char- acters of the leading men and women are delineated. Upon this delineation the historian usually bestows his utmost skill in composition. But the reader should not forget that the dis- eussion of the causes which produce some great event, though less attractive outwardly, may have a deeper significance. At all events, it is the business of the reader to acquaint himself, not only with the leaders of a great movement, but also with the forces back of them. Memoirs. — Memoirs also are a species of historical writing, though not strictly constituting history. Less Complete. — The writer of memoirs does not pretend to give a complete account of events, but only to relate such PROSE COMPOSITION— FICTION. 231 of them as he himself was connected with. We do not expect from him the same profound research, or the same varied in- formation, that we expect from the historian. Less Dignifled. — The writer is not held to the same unvary- ing gravity and dignity, or to the same impersonal style of nar- ration that is required in history. He may indulge in familiar anecdotes and pleasantry, and may introduce himself and his own personal affairs into the public affairs which he commemo- rates. Memoirs are, in fact, of the nature of reminiscences. They are a testimony by an eye-witness. Hence they have a double character. They are usually very entertaining as mere reading, and they are to the regular historian one of his most valuable storehouses of materials. Biography. — A Biography is the history of one indi- vidual. Biography is, therefore, a species of historical composition. Different from History. — Biography differs from history proper, not only in being thus limited in its range, but also in being less formal. In this latter respect biography corresponds with memoirs, descending to the particulars of private life and to familiar incidents. Different from Memoirs. — Biography differs, on the other hand, from memoirs, in being complete in itself It is no ob- jection to memoirs that they are fragmentary, containing only such incidents as the writer sees fit to commemorate. But a biography of a man is expected to give his whole life and char- acter, his influence, and his general position in the world, just as the history of a nation or of a period is expected to give all the events, their causes, and their effects. Autobiography is a biography of a person written by him- self. IX. FICTION. A Fiction is a story made up of incidents and charac- ters invented, in whole or in part, for the purpose. Its Prevalence.— Fictitious writing has existed in all ages of the world, but it has received its greatest expansion in the present age. The works of fiction now produced exceed in 232 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. number those of any other class, and the reading of them con- stitutes perhaps one-half of all the reading done by the com- munity at large. Name. — The name most commonly given to a work of fiction is Novel. Novels are divided into two leading classes, historical and domestic. Historical Novels are those in which the events of history are introduced, and historical persons are represented as talk- ing and acting. The best known historical novels in English are those of Sir Walter Scott. The historical novel may be made very interesting, and may help the dull and unimagina- tive reader in forming a more lively picture of past events, but it is an unsafe guide in studying history. The novelist natu- rally shapes the facts to suit his story, instead of shaping his story to suit the facts. The great mass of novels, however, are of a domestic character, the incidents being such as occur in private life. Appeal to Curiosity. — The novelist relies for the interest of his story, first and mainly, upon the curiosity of the reader. The incidents being of the writer's own creation, he contrives so to arrange them as to conceal from his readers the issue of the afiair until the very end of the story. If the novelist were to begin his story by telling who is to be married or killed, and how things generally are to turn out, he would speedily find himself without readers. Delineation of Character. — Another great source of in- terest in novels is the opportunity they give for the delinea- tion of character. In history the writer must take his char- acters as he finds them. In fiction the writer creates his characters. He endows them with such qualities as he pleases, and then creates for them circumstances which enable them to act out these qualities in the sight of the reader. Such a mental process, that is, obtaining a clear conception of a character, and then seeing that character developed in action before our eyes, is always a source of pleasure, and the novelist has, for the em- ployment of it, a field bounded only by his own faculties of con- ception and invention. Evil Effects. — The greater part of the fiction now published and read has no other object than that of " killing time." PROSE COMPOSITION— DISCOURSES. 233 Novels of this sort have a debasing effect upon the mind. The reading of them is a mere mental dissipation, unfitting the reader both for reading of a more elevated kind and for the active duties of life. The effect on the memory is also extremely harmful ; a constant reader of such novels is apt to forget them as fast as he has read them, and to lose the power of remembering the actualities of life. An occasional novel, read very slowly and carefully, may give relaxation to the graver pursuits of life. But the young especially are to be warned that they cannot be too cautious in the choice of novels. They should read only the very best pieces by the acknowledged masters in fiction, and should learn to study them for their dic- tion and style, and not be content with merely hurrying through the story. X. DISCOURSES. A DiscoTirse differs from the other kinds of composi- tion which have been described, in that it is intended to be read or spoken to the persons addressed, instead of being read by them. In an essay, a review, or a history, the writer prepares some- thing which others are to read for themselves. In a discourse of any kind he prepares something which he intends himself to read or speak to others. Discourses which have been printed after delivery may, of course, be read by any one. But that is not their primary intention. They are in the form of an ad- dress to be delivered by the author to an audience. Kinds of Discourse. — The principal kinds of discourses are Orations, Addresses, Sermons, Lectures, and Speeches. Orations. — An Oration is a discourse of the most formal and elaborate kind. Occasions. — An Oration is generally delivered in commem- oration of some important public event, or in eulogy of some distinguished person, or upon an occasion justifying the most deliberate and careful preparation. An oration, therefore, more than any other kind of discourse, must have a full and rounded completeness as a work of art. 234 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Addresses.— An Address is closely akin to an oration, but somewhat less formal in character, and much less re- stricted in regard to the occasion and the subject. Occasions. — One may deliver an address on almost any occa- sion, and on every variety of subject, lowly or lofty. The Gov- ernor of a State, the President of a College, or the Chairman of a political meeting, on entering upon the duties of his of&ce, usually delivers an address. Sermons. — A Sermon is a formal discourse by a clergy- man, intended for religious instruction, and founded usu- ally on some passage of Scripture. The preacher sets forth the doctrines of the Old and New Testaments, makes clear what the founders of the Mosaic and Christian dispensations really intended, and holds up their lives for zealous imitation. Lectures. — A Lecture is a discourse intended primarily for instruction on any subject. Kinds of Lectures. — Lectures may be conveniently divided into two kinds, namely : 1. Those delivered in schools, colleges, and other institutions of learning, for the direct purpose of in- structing a class. 2. Those delivered before a popular audience, and intended partly to entertain, and partly to instruct. Speeches. — Every kind of discourse is in some sense a speech. But the term Speech is often used in a special and restricted sense. In this sense, the speaker endeavors to convince or to persuade his hearers that his view of a certain subject is the right one, and should be adopted and put into effect by them. Occasions.— The most usual places for speech-making are courts of justice, legislative assemblies, and popular conven- tions. Speeches are usually extemporaneous, that is, composed at the time and in the act of delivery, though they may be, and often are, composed beforehand and committed to memory. PROSE COMPOSITION— DISCOURSES. 235 The kinds of discourse here enumerated by no means ex- haust the subject. They include, however, the principal varie- ties, and are sufficiently comprehensive for the present purpose. General Principles. In the construction of all the more formal kinds of discourse, certain general principles are to be observed. 1. Unity. — A discourse which is to produce a profound impression must maintain a certain unity of subject. Explanation. — A speaker does not infringe upon the unity of his discourse by introducing a variety of topics, provided all those topics have some common bond of union, subordinat- ing them all to one leading thought or purpose. He might in one lecture discourse very effectively on Bryant, Longfel- low, and Whittier, because they are all poets, all Americans, and all contemporaries, and he might use them to illustrate some one general topic in literature, or literary history. But were he to attempt in the same lecture to discuss Bryant's Thanatopsis, the character of Wellington, and the discovery of gunpowder, he would assuredly distract the minds of his audience. 2. Adaptation to the Audience. — In a discourse to be read or spoken to others, we must, both in the subject selected and in the manner of treating it, have due re- gard to the character of the persons addressed. Different from a Treatise. — Discourses differ in this respect from ordinary treatises, in which the author has to consider his subject only. A man might with propriety lecture on differ- ential calculus to a company of savans or to an advanced class in college, but he could hardly do so to a popular assembly. Whoever wishes to succeed as a lecturer, or as a speaker of any kind, must study his audience as well as his subject, and adapt his discourse both to ^he occasion and the hearers. 3. Symmetry. — A discourse is symmetrical when it has all the parts belonging to such a production, and these parts are all in due order and correlation., 236 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Parts of a Discourse. — The parts properly belonging to a formal discourse are — 1. The Introduction. 2. The Statement of the Subject. 3. The Main Discourse. 4. The Conclusion. On each of these a few observations will be made. 1. The Introduction. — A formal introduction, or exordium, is not always required. When used, its object is, first, to gain the attention of the hearers ; second, to gain their good will ; third, to make them open to conviction by removing any prejudices or prepossessions they may have against the topic or the cause which the speaker is about to present. As a good introduction is one of the most important, so it is one of the most difficult parts of a discourse. Things to be Observed.— The rules to be observed are : first, that the introduction be easy and natural, arising from the subject itself; second, that it be expressed with more than usual accuracy and care, as the hearers are never in so critical a mood as then ; third, that it have an air of modesty, which in the beginning of a discourse is espe- cially prepossessing ; fourth, that it should be calm and moderate, the audience being not yet prepared for anything strong and vehement; fifth, that it should not anticipate any of the main points of the dis- course, and thereby diminish their novelty, when they are brought for- ward for consideration. 2. The Statement. — When by a good introduction a speaker has done what he can to gain for himself and his subject a favor- able hearing, his next business is to state the subject of his dis- course. The only rule to be observed in regard to this is that the subject should be stated in few and simple words, and with the utmost clearness. 3. The Main Discourse. — Writers on rhetoric have made here many subdivisions, such as the explication or narration, the division, the argumentative part, and the pathetic part, and under each of these they have laid down almost numberless rules. But the utility of such rules and divisions is very ques- tionable. Each man must of necessity be left to his own judgment and powers of invention in ccnistructing the body of his discourse. No two subjects are to he handled precisely alike ; no two writers handle the same subject exactly in the same way ; no writer himself handles a subject in the same way on different occasions. PROSE COMPOSITION^DISCOURSES. 237 4. The Conclusion. — The Conclusion or Peroration of a dis- course, like the Introduction, requires special care. The object in the conclusion is to leave as strong an impression as possible upon the minds of the audience. Sometimes this is done by reserving to the last the strongest part or head of the discourse and ending \\'ith it. Sometimes the speaker gives a brief and striking summary of the whole discourse. In every case the conclusion should be dignified, and — if the subject admits of it — should express deep and sustained, but not violent, feeling. Part IL INVENTION. Invention, as a rhetorical process, is the art of putting together what one has to say upon a subject. Invention does not consist in finding out what to say ; that is the office of life and of education in general. Thus the historian finds out what to say by studying the records of the past; the botanist, by studying plants ; the economist, by study- ing the phenomena of trade and exchaftge. Invention consists rather in putting our statements of fact, our observations upon men and things, our conclusions, our ideas, our feelings, into readable shape. Since the term invention, in its every-day sense, im- plies the production of something which did not pre- viously exist, e. g., a new machine, the young writer is apt to infer that his invention also must produce some- thing novel. This is erroneous. He may offer some- thing novel, or he may not, according to the range of his knowledge and the maturity of his mind; but in either case his rhetorical invention, the shaping of his thoughts, would be the same. If this shaping is correct, we may say that he knows how to write, without imply- ing thereby that he is an author, that is, an original writer. 238 INVENTION. 239 The subject of Invention is very extensive and compli- cated, so complicated indeed that no two authorities can be said to agree upon every detail. In the following chap- ters the chief principles and more usual devices will be given with sufficient fulness for all the needs of the young student. CHAPTER IX. PARAGRAPHING. [N. B. It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that a clear understand- ing of the nature and office of the Paragraph is the foundation of all good prose writing.] The Paragraph Defined. — The paragraph may be de- fined to be a group of sentences intimately connected in thought and serving one common purpose. Indenting. — In modern printing the paragraph is marked off to the eye by the device known as indenting. In printed matter, the first letter of the paragraph is set back one em, or two ems, from the flush line of the page, or column ; in writing it is set back an inch or an inch and a half from the margin. According to its purpose, the paragraph may be of two kinds. Either the writer takes up a simple, brief, independent subject and disposes of it within the Hmits of a single paragraph, which is then called an Independent (or Isolated) Paragraph. Or he is developing successive portions of a longer general subject in successive paragraphs; these are called Connected (or Related) Paragraphs. In either case the paragraph should observe the two general rules of Unity and Sequence ; that is, every sentence, every phrase, even every word, should contribute directly and forcibly to the subject, or portion of subject, treated in the paragraph, and whatever does not thus contribute should be excluded. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF PARAGRAPHING. Unity. — The conception of this is best learned from good concrete examples. Thus, in the following quotation every- 240 PARAORAPHINO. 241 thing brings into prominence the power of Paul's character and the source of that power, namely, faith in God : — The power of Paul's personality shines out in almost every line of the narrative consummated in the shipwreck. By the power of his personal presence he quiets the mob and gains an audience for himself; by the same power he checks the Roman officers as they bind him, and compels their heed to his quiet declaration that he is a Roman citizen ; by the same power he secures a hearing for his nephew's revelation respecting the projected assassination ; by the same power he wins his acquittal from Felix and from Festus, winning that acquittal without calling a single witness in his favor; by the same power he so affects the cen- turion that he is allowed to go free on his parole when the ship touches at Sidon, and secures a hearing for his counsel to harbor at Fair Haven, though overruled by the shipmaster. Never losing this hold, he it is who in the midst of the tempest stands forth, carrying cheer to sailor, soldier, and passenger, never losing presence of mind ; he it is who strengthens the shipwrecked against the dangers of exhaustion in the battle with the waves by distributing to them food ; and, never losing his sense of the presence of God, he bears a quiet witness to this faith by giving thanks to God, even in the midst of. their fears, for their strange meal. In brief, what the story of Joseph is in the Old Testa- ment, that is the story of Paul's voyage to Rome in the New Testament — a striking illustration of the truth and the method of Divine Provi- dence and the power of a character whose root is faith in God. In the following the unity is less obvious at first reading, but is sufficiently clear. The passage is a mixture of narrative and description ; its purpose is to awaken our sympathy with the writer at a turning-point in his life : — I shed tears as I looked round on the chair, hearth, writing-table, and other familiar objects, knowing too certainly that I looked upon them for the last time. Whilst I write this, it is nineteen years ago ; and yet, at this moment, I see, as if it were but yesterday, the lineaments and expressions of the object on which I fixed my parting gaze. It was the picture of a lovely lady which hung over the mantelpiece, the eyes and mouth of which were so beautiful, and the whole countenance so radiant with divine tranquillity, that I had a thousand times laid down my pen or my book to gather consolation from it, as a devotee from his patron saint. Whilst I was yet gazing upon it, the deep tones of the old church clock proclaimed that it was six o'clock. I went up to the picture, kissed it, then gently walked out, and closed the door for ever. The following is a good example of Macaulay's method of character-description : — 16 V 242 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. The characteristic peculiarity of his [Johnson's] intellect was the union of great powers with low prejudices. ' If we judged of him by the best parts of his mind, we should place him almost as high as he was placed by the idolatry of Boswell ; if by the worst parts of his mind, we should place him even below Boswell himself. Where he was not under the influence of some strange scruple or some domineering pas- sion which prevented him from boldly and fairly investigating a subject, he was a wary and acute reasoner, a little too much inclined to scepti- cism, and a little too fond of paradox. No man was less likely to be im- posed upon by fallacies in argument or by exaggerated statements of fact. But if, while he was beating down sophisms and exposing false testimony, some childish prejudices, such as would excite laughter in a well-man- aged nursery, came across him, he was smitten as if by enchantment. His mind dwindled away under the spell from gigantic elevation to dwarfish littleness. Those who had lately been admiring its amplitude and its force were now as much astonished at its strange narrowness and feebleness as the fisherman in the Arabian tale, when he saw the genie, whose stature had overshadowed the whole sea-coast and whose might seemed equal to a contest with armies, contract himself to the dimen- sions of his small prison, and lie there the helpless slave of the charm of Solomon. The following is description pure and simple : — A cornfield in July is a hot place. The soil is hot and dry ; the wind comes across the lazily murmuring leaves with a warm sickening smell drawn from the rapidly growing, broad-flung banners of the corn. The sun, nearly vertical, drops a flood of dazzling light and heat upon the field over which the cool shadows run, only to make the heat seem the more intense. The following passage from the tilt between Bois-Guilbert and Ivanhoe is pure narration : — The trumpets had no sooner given the signal than the champions vanished from their posts with the speed of lightning, and closed in the centre of the lists with the shock of a thunderbolt. The lances burst into shivers up to the very grasp, and it seemed at the moment that both knights had fallen, for the shock had made each horse recoil backwards upon its haunches. The address of the riders recovered their steeds by use of the bridle and spur ; and having glared on each other for an in- stant with eyes which seemed to flash fire through the bars of their visors, each made a demivolte, and, retiring to the extremity of the lists, received a fresh lance from the attendants. The following, from Burke's famous speech on Condliaiwn mth America, is argumentative : — PARAGRAPHING. 243 If we adopt this mode, — if we mean to conciliate and concede, — let us see of what nature the concession ought to he : to ascertain the nature of our concession, we must look at their complaint. The colonies com- plain that they have not the characteristic mark and seal of British freedom. They complain that they are taxed in a parliament in which they are not represented. If you mean to satisfy them at all, you must satisfy them with regard to this complaint. If you mean to please any people, you must give them the boon which they ask ; not what you may think better for them, but of a kind totally different. Such an act may be a wise regulation, but it is no concession ; whereas our present theme is the mode of giving satisfaction. Note, in the descriptions of Saint Paul and of Johnson, how the leading traits of character are made prominent; note, in the passage from Burke, how stress is laid upon conceding that which the colonies ask ; note, in the description of the cornfield, the pervading element of heat ; note, in the encounter between Ivanhoe and Bois-Guilbert, the ezchision of everything which does not accelerate the action. Sequence, or Continuity.' — This consists in arranging the sentences of the paragraph in that order which will let the general subject of the paragraph be most readily apprehended. No general rule for sequence can be given ; much will depend upon the form of writing, — whether it be narration and description, or expo- sition and argument. In Narration events are usually, but not invariably, stated in the order in which they occurred [chronological). For beginners this is the safest method. Note the order in the paragraphs upon leaving school and upon the tournament. In Description it is usually advisable to arrest the reader's at- tention by putting the most conspicuous feature at the begin- ning of the paragraph, or at the end, or in both places. Note the order in the description of Saint Paul and of Johnson, and in the sketch of the cornfield. In Exposition and in Argumentation the normal order is the logical. That is to say, definitions should come before illustra- tions, a law before an instance or an application, premises be- fore conclusions. The following, from Coleridge, is a good ex- ample of sequence : — 1 Sometimes called Coherence. 244 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. The use of a theory in the real sciences is to help the investigator to a complete view of all the hitherto discovered facts relating to the science in question ; it is a collected view, 9eu>pia., of all he yet knows in one. Of course, whilst any pertinent facts remain unknown, no theory can be exactly true, because every new fact must necessarily, to a greater or less degree, displace the relation of all the others. A theory, there- _ fore, only helps investigation ; it cannot invent or discover. The only true theories are those of geometry, because in geometry all the prem- ises are true and unalterable. But to suppose that, in our present exceedingly imperfect acquaintance with the facts, any theory in chem- istry or geology is altogether accurate, is absurd : it cannot be true. Note, in the above, how the first sentence defines a theory by stating its use ; the second gives the necessary limitations of a theory ; the third tells what theory can not do ; the fourth designates the only true theo- ries ; the fifth applies the whole doctrine to geology. This application was Coleridge's aim from the start. Note also, in the passage from Burke, the rigorous order in which the nature of concession is explained and applied step by step. In what is called Indirect Exposition, that is, explaining some- thing by stating what it is not, the negative statements precede the positive, or at least control the paragraph, as in this passage from Burke : — It is not the confiscation of our church property from this example in France that I dread, though I think this would be no trifling evil. The great source of my solicitude is, lest it should ever be considered in England as the policy of a state to seek a resource in confiscations of any kind, or that any one description of citizens should be brought to regard any of the others as their proper prey. Still more striking in its negative construction is Webster's well-known definition of eloquence : — When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable in speech farther than as it is connected with high intellect- ual and moral endowments. Clearness, force and earnestness are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire to It; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it comes at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain PARAGRAPHINO. 245 from the earth, or the bursting, forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly orna- ments and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of' higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent; then self-devotion is eloquent. The clear conception, outrunning the deduction of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the' whole man onward, right onward to his object, — this, this is eloquence ; or rather, it is something greater and higher than all eloquence,— it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action. Principal Places in the Paragraph. — These are the be- ginning and the end. Accordingly the first sentence and the last sentence of the paragraph should, by virtue of their struc- ture and their nervous force, compel the reader's attention. It is usually advisable to make the first sentence short ; the last sentence may be long or short, but in either case should be forcible. The object of the first sentence is to state a point clearly ; the last sentence should enforce it. Another principle observed by good writers is to make the conclusion of the paragraph a re-statement, or counterpart, or application of the opening. Note Macaulay's description of Johnson, already quoted ; also the following paragraph, from Carlyle :— Boswell has already been much commented upon, but rather in the way of censure and vituperation than of true recognition. He was a, man that brought liimself much before the world ; confessed that he eagerly coveted fame, or, if that were not possible, notoriety ; of which latter, as he gained far more than seemed his due, the public were in- cited, not only by their natural love of scandal, but by a special grourfd of envy, to say whatever ill of him could be said. Out of the fifteen millions that then lived and had bed and board in the British Islands, this man has provided us a greater pleasure than any other individual at whose cost we now enjoy ourselves ; perhaps has done us a greater service than can be specially attributed to more than two or three : yet, ungrateful that we are, no written or spoken eulogy of James Boswell anywhere exists; his recompense in solid pudding (so far as copyright went) was not excessive ; and as for the empty praise, it has altogether 246 COMPOSITION AND RHETOMC: been denied him. Men are unwiser than children; they do not know the hand that feeds them. Climax. — In some text-books the rule is laid down that the paragraph should have a climactic structure. This is going too far ; a study of the best writers will show that they do not regu- larly, nor even in the greater number of instances, cast the paragraph in the climactic form. In fact, a succession of cli- mactic paragraphs would be tiresome. All that we can say is that a good writer is apt to introduce a climactic period when he is appealing directly to the feelings, as in the following from Burke : — Is it not the same virtue which does everything for us here in Eng- land? Do you imagine, then, that it is the land-tax act which raises your revenue ? That it is the annual vote in the committee of supply which gives you your army ? Or that it is the mutiny bill which in- spires it with bravery and discipline ? No ! surely No ! It is the love of the people ; it is their attachment to tlieir government, from the sense of the deep stake they have in such a glorious institution, which gives you your army and your navy, and infuses into both that liberal obedience, without which your army would be a base rabble, and your navy nothing but rotten timber. The following, also from Burke, is equally clear and impressive ; but it is not an appeal to the feelings and is not climactic : — These solid truths compose six fundamental propositions. There are three more resolutions corollary to these. If you admit the first set, you can hardly reject the others. But if you admit the first, I shall be far from solicitous whether you accept or refuse the last. I think these six massive pillars will be of strength suflScient to support the temple of British concord. I have no more doubt than I entertain of my existence, that, if you admitted these, you would command an immediate peace ; and, with but tolerable future management, a lasting obedience in Amer- ica. I am not arrogant in this confident assurance. The propositions are all mere matters of fact ; and if they are such facts as draw irresisti- ble conclusions even in the stating, this is the power of truth, and not any management of mine. The Body of the Paragraph. — Examining any good para- graph, we shall find that it is made up of a number of items, each of which helps to illustrate, confirm, or enforce the gen- eral thought or purpose of the paragraph. Also the transition from each item to the next is easy, natural, and obvious ; the items seem to come of themselves. If, on the other hand, we PAMAGRAPHINO. 247 detect in a paragraph one or more items which have no direct bearing, or if we are unable to proceed readily from item to item, especially if we are obliged to re-arrange the items before we can perceive their full significance, then we are justified in pronouncing the paragraph-construction faulty. No specific rules can be given for ensuring good construction ; but one or two practical hints may be of help. 1. In Description, couple items which represent features con- tiguous in the object described ; do not jump from one feature to another very remote. Also, try to follow an order of describ- ing, either increasing in importance or decreasing, either con- tracting or enlarging. In the following, from Charles Darwin, note the order in which the glance passes from wood to bank, from private to public buildings, and out over the water: — No person could imagine anything so beautiful as the ancient town of Bahia. It is fairly embosomed in a luxuriant wood of beautiful trees, and situated on a steep bank, and overlooks the calm waters of the great bay of All Saints. The houses are white and lofty, and, from the win- dows being narrow and long, have a very hght and elegant appearance. C!onvents, porticos, and public buildings vary the uniformity of the houses ; the bay is scattered over with large ships ; in short — and what can be said more ? — it is one of the finest views in the Brazils. In George Eliot's description of Janet, note how attention is gradu- ally concentrated upon her eyes : — She had on a light dress which sat loosely about her figure, but did not disguise its hberal, graceful outline. A heavy mass of straight jet- black hair had escaped from its fastening and hung over her shoulders. Her grandly-cut features, pale, with the natural paleness of a brunette, had premature lines about them, telling that the years had been length- ened by sorrow, and the delicately-curved nostril, which seemed made to quiver with the proud consciousness of power and beauty, must have quivered to the heart-piercing griefs which had given that worn look to the comers of the mouth. Her wide-open black eyes had a strangely fixed, sightless gaze, as she paused at the turning, and stood silent before her husband. In Ruskin's anecdote of Acland, mixed description and narration, note first the rapid sketch of the situation, then Acland's appearance, the greeting he receives, his reply, the consequences :— When Acland . . was wrecked in the steamer Th/ne, off the coast of 248 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIO. Dorset, . . . the officers in anxious debate, the crew in confusion, the passengers in hysterics or at prayers, were all astonished, and many scandalized, at the appearance of Dr. Acland from the saloon in punc- tilious morning dress, with the announcement that "breakfast was ready." To the impatient clamour of indignation with which his un- sympathetic conduct was greeted, he replied by pointing out that not a boat could go on shore, far less come out from it, in that state of the tide, and that in the mean time, as most of them were wet, all cold, and at the best must be dragged ashore through the surf, if not swim for their lives in it, they would be extremely prudent to begin the day, as usual, with breakfast. The hysterics ceased, the confusion calmed, what ■wits anybody had became available to them again, and not a hfe was ultimately lost. 2. In Exposition and Argwmentaiwn, each statement should seem to grow out of the preceding. Thus, in Matthew Arnold's discussion of a politico-legal grievance, first the prevalence of party cries and catchwords is commented upon, then one particular catchword is examined and shown, step by step, to be untenable: — One of these [inconveniences] is, certainly in English public life, the prevalence of cries and catchwords, which are very apt to receive an application, or to be used with an absoluteness, which do not belong to them ; and then they tend to narrow our spirit and to hurt our practice. It is good to make a catchword of this sort come down from its strong- hold of commonplace, to force it to move about before us in the open country, and to show us its real strength. Such a catchword as this: The state had better leave things alone. One constantly heara that as an absolute maxim ; now, as an absolute maxim, it has really no force at all. The absolute maxims are those which carry to man's spirit their own demonstration with them ; such propositions as : Duty is the law of life; Man is morally free, and so on. The proposition ; The state had bet- ter leave things alone, carries no such demonstration with it; it has, there- fore, no absolute force ; it merely conveys a notion which certain people have generalized from certain facts which have come under their ob- servation, and which, by a natural vice of the human mind, they are then prone to apply absolutely. Some things the state had better leave alone, others it had better not. Is this particular thing one of these or one of those? — that, as to any particular thing, is the right question. 3. Study closely the paragraph-structure of the best writers ; for it is only through imitation, conscious or unconscious, of the best models, that one can master the art. For such study the authors most to be recommended to the PABAQBAPHING. 249 young are the following : for description and narration, Irving and Hawthorne ; for essay, Macaulay and Carlyle ; for oratory, Burke and Webster. These six will repay the closest examina- tion. Of the six Burke is the greatest. His paragraph intuition, so to speak, is almost infallible. SOME PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. [Note.— The following suggestions will be of help to the student, not only in appreciating the style of the best writers, but also in forming his own habits of expression.] The Key-Sentence, or Topio-Sentenoe.— An examina- tion of the best writing will show that in the paragraph there is one sentence or clause, (if the paragraph is long, perhaps two or more sentences), standing out from the others and giving the key, as it were, to the whole structure. In Exposition and Argumentation such sentences embody the fundamental thought of the paragraph, or some special application of that thought; they may then be called Topic-Sentences. Again, with reference to the paragraph-movement, they may be called Paragraph- Centres. A few specimens, carefully studied, will be of more avail than defini- tions and rules. In the following paragraphs the sentences, or clauses, to be considered have been italicized. In Lowell's paragraph upon New England character the key- sentence is near the middle : — Faith In God, faith in man, faith in work, — this is the short formula in which we may sum up the teaching of the founders of New England — a creed ample enough for this life and the next. If their muncipal regulations smack somewhat of Judaism, yet there can be no nobler aim or more practical wisdom than theirs, for it was to make the law of man a living counterpart of the law of God, in their highest concep- tion of it. Were they too earnest in the strife to save their souls alive? That is still tlie problem which every wise and brave man is lifelong in solving. If the Devil takes a less hateful shape to us than to our fathers, he is as busy with us as with them ; and if we cannot find it in our hearts to break with a gentleman of so much worldly wisdom, who gives such admirable dinners, and whose manners are so perfect, so much the worse for us. In Hawthorne's sketch of life in a -republic the key-note is struck in the opening sentence: — 250 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. In this republican country, amid the fluctuating waves of our social life, somebody is always at the drowning-point. The tragedy is enacted with as continual a repetition as that of a popular drama on a holiday ; and, nevertheless, is felt as deeply, perhaps, as when an hereditary noble sinks below his order. More deeply, since with us rank is the grosser substance of wealth and a splendid establishment, and has no spiritual existence after the death of these, but dies hopelessly along with them. And therefore, since we have been unfortunate enough to introduce our heroine at so inauspieious a juncture, we would entreat for a mood of due solemnity in the spectators of her fate. but in his remarks upon the fortunes of the Pyncheon family the explanation does not come until the end : — Had the colonel survived only a few weeks longer, it is probable that his great political influence and powerful connections at home and abroad would have consummated all that was necessary to render the claim [to vast possessions in Maine] available. But, in spite of good Mr. Higginson's congratulatory eloquence, this appeared to be the one thing which Colonel Pyncheon, provident and sagacious as he was, had allowed to go at loose ends. So far as the prospective territory was con- cerned, he unquestionably died too soon. His son lacked not merely the father's eminent position, but the talent and force of character to achieve it : he could therefore effect nothing by dint of political inter- est ; and the bare justice or legality of the claim was not so apparent ■ after the colonel's decease as it had been pronounced in his lifetime. Some connecting link had slipped out of the evidence, and could not any- where be found. In Irving's description of Master Simon the italicized clauses are paragraph-centres ; not only do they differ from the rest in form, but each states a general fact, a summing-up of Master Simon's reputation : — He was a tight, brisk little man, with the air of an arrant old bach- elor. His nose was shaped like the bill of a parrot ; his face slightly pitted with the small-pox, with a dry perpetual bloom on it, like a frost-bitten leaf in autumn. He had an eye of great quickness and vivacity, with a drollery and lurking waggery of expression that was irresistible. He was evidently the wit of the family, dealing very much in sly jokes and innuendoes with the ladies, and making infinite merriment by harping upon old themes, which, unfortunately, my ignorance of the family chronicles did not permit me to enjoy. It seemed to be his great delight during supper to keep a young girl next to him in a con- tinual agony of stifled laughter, in spite of her awe of the reproving looks of her mother, who sat opposite. Indeed, he was the idol of the younger PARAORAPHINO. 251 part of the company, who laughed at everything he said or did and at every turn of his countenance ; I could not wonder at it, for he must have been a miracle of accomplishments in their eyes. He could imi- tate Punch and Judy ; make an old woman of his hand, with the as- sistance of a burnt cork and pocket-handkerchief; and cut an orange into such a ludicrous caricature that the young folks were ready to die with laughing. In the description of Ichabod's last ride the itahcized sen- tence expresses the sentiment of the situation and suggests an unpleasant sequel : — It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and crestfallen, pursued his travel homewards along the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour was as dismal as himself. Far below him, the Tappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop riding quietly at anchor under the land. In the dead hush of midnight he could even hear the barking of the watch-dog, etc. In the first of the two following paragraphs, from Irving's Traits of Indian Character, the general principle is not stated until the middle : — In discussing the savage character, writers have been too prone to indulge in vulgar prejudices and passionate exaggeration, instead of the candid temper of true philosophy. They have not sufficiently consid- ered the peculiar circumstances in which the Indians have been placed, and the peculiar principles under which they have been educated. No being acts more rigidly from rule than the Indian. His whole conduct is regulated according to some general maxims early implanted in his mind. The moral laws that govern him are, to be sure, but few, but then he conforms to them all ; the white man abounds in laws of re- ligion, morals, and manners, but how many does he violate? whereas in the second it is stated at the beginning : — But if courage intrinsically consists in the defiance of danger and pain, the life of the Indian is a continual exhibition of it. He lives in a state of perpetual hostility and risk. Peril and adventure are congenial to his nature ; or rather seem necessary to arouse his faculties and to give an interest to his existence. Surrounded by hostile tribes, whose mode of warfare is by ambush and snrprisal, he is always prepared for fight, and lives with his weapons in his hand, etc. One of the most effective examples of key-sentence is found 252 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. in Irving's story of Wolfert Webber, in the description of Dirk Waldron's courtship : — This youngster gradually became an intimate visitor of the family. He talked little, hut he sat long. He filled the father's pipe when it was empty, gathered up the mother's knitting-needle or hall of worsted when it fell to the ground, stroked the sleek coat of the tortoise-shell cat, and replenished the teapot for the daughter from the bright copper kettle that sang before the fire. All these quiet little offices may seem of trifling import ; but when true love is translated into Low Dutch, it is in this way that it eloquently expresses itself. They were not lost upon the Webber family. The paragraph would have been complete in structure without the italicized sentence ; these words add little or nothing to the details, yet they give the very spirit of the scene ; hke a flash of sunlight across a landscape, they reveal everything. The young writer will do well to act upon the following sug- gestion : Before composing a paragraph, settle clearly in your mind what is to be the leading thought, or feeling, or view, and make this conspicuous somewhere in the paragraph. Repeated Structure. — This is an effective device of writers who pay special attention to form. Its use, if not excessive, gives to the thought-sequence a peculiar power and dignity as well as clearness. The following example is from De Quincey : — Of books, so long as you rest only on grounds which, in sincerity, you believe to be true, and speak without anger or scorn, you can hardly say the thing which ought to be taken amiss. But of men and women you dare not, and must not, tell all that chance may have revealed to you. Sometimes you are summoned to silence by pity for that general human infirmity which you also, the writer, share. Sometimes you are checked by the consideration that perhaps your knowledge of the case was originally gained under opportunities allowed only by confidence or by unsuspecting carelessness. Sometime the disclosure would cause quar- rels between parties now at peace. Sometimes it would inflict pain, such as you could not feel any right to inflict, upon people not directly but collaterally interested in the exposure. Sometimes, again, if right to be told, it might be difficult to prove. Tims, for one cause and another, some things are sacred and some things are perilous amongst any personal relations that else you might have it in your power to make. The following, from Irving, is simpler but no lees effective ; PARAGRAPHING. 253 note the easy transition from the to they and thdr, and the repe- tition of Sunday : — On this sacred day [Sunday] the gigantic monster [London] is charmed into repose. The intolerable din and struggle of the week are at an end. The shops are shut. The fires of forges and manufac- tories are extinguished, and the sun, no longer obscured by murky clouds of: smoke, pours down a sober yellow radiance into the quiet streets. The few pedestrians we meet, instead of hurrying forward with anxious countenances, move leisurely along ; their brows are smoothed from the wrinkles of business and care ; they have put on their Sunday looks and Sunday manners with their Sunday clothes, and are cleansed in mind as well as in person. The oratorical style favors repeated structure ; thus Webster's First Bunker Hill abounds in it. The following, from the speech on Conciliation, is characteristic of Burke : — I do not mean to commend either the spirit in this excess, or the moral causes which produce it. Perhaps a more smooth and accommo- dating spirit of freedom in them would be more acceptable to us. Per- haps ideas of liberty might be desired, more reconcilable with an arbi- trary 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, etc. etc. Note also the repetition in the passage from Burke, p. 243 : " If we adopt "...." if we mean ''...." The colonies complain " . . . . " They complain" . . . " If you mean" . ..." If you mean " . . . . Again, note the repetition in the description of Paul, p. 241 : " The power of" . ..." By the power of" . . . ."by the same power " (four times) . . . . " Never hsing this hold " . . . . " never losing presence of mind" .... "never losing his sense of" .... and, at the very end, " the power of a character whose root is faith in God." Echo. — This consists in fitting the paragraph-sentences into each other by letting the beginning clause of one sentence echo the thought, sometimes even the wording, of the last clause of the sentence immediately preceding. This echo device is ex- tremely effective ; it has been employed, consciously or uncon- sciously, by many of the best writers. The following is from Irving : — W 264 COMPOSITION AND SHETOBIO. I was roused from this fit of luxurious meditation by a shout from my little travelling companions. They had been looking out of the coach- windows for the last few miles, recognizing every tree and cottage as they approached home, and now there was a general burst of joy. "There's John! and there's old Carlo! and there's Bantam!" cried the happy little rogues, clapping their hands. The following is from Mattiiew Arnold : — The grand power of poetry Is its interpretative power ; by which I mean, not a power of drawing out in black and white an explanation of the mystery of the universe, but the power of so dealing with things as to awaken in us a, wonderfully full, new, and intimate sense of them, and of our relations with them. When this sense is awakened in us, as to objects without us, we feel ourselves to be in contact with the essential nature of those objects, etc. The following is from Hawthorne : — Accordingly, with such a tramp of his ponderous riding-boots as might of itself have been audible in the remotest of the seven gables, he [the lieutenant-governor] advanced to the door, which the servant pointed out, and made its new panels re-echo with a loud free hnack. Then, looking round with a smile to the spectators, he awaited a response. As none came, however, he knocked again, but with the same unsatis- factory results as atjirst. And now, being a trifle choleric in his temper- ament, the lieutenant-governor uplifted the heavy hilt of the sword, wherewith he so beat and banged upon the door that, etc. In the following, from Burke, we readily understand that the sentinel was cut down hy the band of ruffians : — History will record that on the morning of the 6th of October, 1789, the king and queen of France, after a day of confusion, alarm, dismay, and slaughter, lay down, under the pledged security of public faith, to indulge nature in a few hours of respite and troubled melancholy repose. Prom, this sleep the quefen was first startled by the voice of the sentinel at her door, who cried out to her to save herself by flight — that this was the last proof of fidelity he could give — that they were upon him, and he was dead. Instantly he was cut down. A band of cruel ruffians and assassins, reeking with his blood, rushed into the chamber of the queen, etc. Also note, in the quotation from Burke, p. 243, the echo : " we must look at their complaint. The colonists com/plain," etc. The young writer is urgently advised to cultivate the practice of echoing ; it is a safeguard against abrupt and awkward tran- PARAGBAPHINO. 255 sitions from sentence to sentence, and promotes continuity of thought. Through neglect of the principle underlying echo, Macaulay, who is scrupulous in observing the unity of the paragraph, has more than once violated sequence. A •charac- teristic specimen is to be found in his essay on Addison. In speaking of the " Campaign," he begins the paragraph thus : The "Campaign" came forth, and was as much admired by the public as by the minister. . . The chief merit of the "Campaign," we think, is that which was noticed by Johnson, the manly and rational rejection of fiction. The first great poet whose works have come down to us sang of war long before war became a science or a trade, etc. Notice the wrench; while we are reading of Addison, all at once, without a word of preparation, we are confronted with an unnamed poet [Homer]. Yet a very slight change would have made the transition easy and natural. Macaulay would have done better to write somewhat after this manner : — The chief merit of the "Campaign," we think, is that which was noticed by Johnson, the manly and rational rejection of [conventional] fiction. This fiction has been handed down to us from Homer, who sang of war long before war became a science or a trade, etc. In this matter of echo Burke is pre-eminent among argu- mentative and expository writers; Irving and Hawthorne among writers of fiction. Connectives. — Study the force of and learn to use connec- tives — i. e. certain words and short phrases which indicate the transition from one thought to the next, or which justify, en- force, restrict, or otherwise modify an assertion. The value of connectives has been aptly stated : — A close reasoner and a good writer in general may be known by his pertinent use of connectives. Read that page of Johnson : you cannot alter one conjunction without spoiling the sense. It is a linked strain throughout. In your modem books, for the most part, the sentences in a page have the same connection with each other that marbles have in a bag : they touch without adhering. Note, in the following, how clearness is enhanced by the italicized words : — Even the critics, whatever may be said of them by others, he [the present author, Irving] has found to be a singularly gentle and good- 256 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. natured race ; it is true that each has in turn objected to some one or two articles, and that these individual exceptions, taken in the aggre- gate, would amount almost to a total condemnation of his work ; 6irf then he has been consoled by observing, that what one has particularlj' censured, another has as particularly praised ; and thus, the encomiums being set off against the objections, he finds his work upon the whole commended far beyond its deserts. In the following : — The two principles of conservation and correction operated strongly at the two critical periods of the Restoration and Revolution, when England found itself without a king. At both those periods the nation had lost the bond of union in their ancient edifice ; they did not, Aow- ejier, dissolve the whole fabric. On the contrary, in both cases they re- generated the deficient part of the old constitution through the parts which were not impaired. They kept these old parts exactly as they were, that the part recovered might be suited to them. not only is the general sequence close, but the whole paragraph may be said to turn upon the words italicized. The young writer should note the use of these words and phrases in good writers, and of similar expressions — e. g. " not- withstanding," "after all," "all in all," " likewise," "further," " consequently," etc. — and should endeavor to employ them in his own writing. Caution. — Inasmuch as connectives mark the logical, or at least the methodical, steps in thinking, they are properly used in argumentative and expository paragraphs, less properly in paragraphs of narration and description. In this latter class of paragraphs connectives rather impede the narrative or divert the reader's mind from the features described. In all narration and description there is a certain necessary abrupt- ness, or directness ; this directness should have an order of its own (see the remarks under Sequence), but the order is not that of consecutive thinking. A few examples from graphic writers will make the distinction clear, The first is from Stanley's Darkest Africa: — We had just emerged out of this baneful stretch of marshy ground . . . when the forest became suddenly darkened, so dark that I could scarcely read the compass, and a distant murmur increasing into loud soughing and wrestling and tossing of branches and groaning of mighty trees warned us of the approach of a tempest. As the ground round PARAGRAPHING. 257 about was most uninviting, we had to press on through the increasing gloom, and then, as the rain began to drip, we commenced to form camp. The tents were hastily pitched over the short scrubby brush, while bill- hooks crashed and axes rang, clearing a space for the camp. The rain was cold and heavily dripped, and every drop, large as a dollar on their cotton clothes, sent a shiver through the men. The thunder roared above, the lightning flashed a vivid light of fire through the darkness, and still the weary caravan filed in until nine o'clock. The rain was so heavy that fires could not be lit, and until three in the morning we sat huddled and crouching amid the cold, damp, and reeking exhala- tions and minute spray. Then bonfires were kindled, and around these scores of flaming pyramids the people sat, to be warmed into hilarious animation, to roast the bitter manioc, and to still the gnawing pain of their stomachs. The foUo^Tug is from David Copperfield : — It was such a strange scene to me, and so confined and dark, that at first I could make out hardly anything ; but by degrees it cleared, as my eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, and I seemed to stand in a picture by Ostade. Among the great beams, bulks, and ringbolts of the ship, and the emigrant-berths, and chests, and bundles, and bar- rels, and heaps of miscellaneous baggage — lighted up, here and there, by dangling lanterns, and elsewhere by the yeUow daylight straying down a windsaU or a hatchway — were crowded groups of people, mak- ing new Mendships, taking leave of one another, talking, laughing, crying, eating and drinking; some, already settled down into the pos- session of their few feet of space, with their little households arranged, and tiny children established on stools or in dwarf elbow-chairs ; others despairing of a resting-place, and wandering disconsolately. From babies who had but a week or two of life behind them, to crooked old men and women who seemed to have but a week or two of life before them ; and fix>m ploughmen bodily carrying out soil of England on their boots, to smiths taking away samples of its soot and smoke upon their skins ; every age and occupation appeared to be crammed into the narrow compass of the 'tween-decks. The following is George Eliot's account of Tina's act of desperation : — See how she rushes noiselessly, like a pale meteor, along the passages and up the gallery stairs ! Those gleaming eyes, those bloodless lips, that silent tread, make her look like the incarnation of a fierce purpose, rather than a woman. The mid-day sun is shining on the armor in the gallery, making mimic suns on bossed sword-hilts and the angles of pol- ished breastplates. Yes, there are sharp weapons in the gallery. There is a dagger in that cabinet; she knows it well. And as a dragon-fly 17 258 COMPOSITION AND HHBTOBIO. wheels in its flight to alight for an instant on a leaf, she darts to the cabinet, talses out the dagger, and thrusts it into her pocket, etc. And; But. — These two little words are the most abused words in the language ; they are employed by careless writers on all occasions, without the slightest regard to precision and force. The result is chronic vagueness and tameness of expression. 1. And. — The student should consider what the word is not. a. It is not the universal copula, it is not to be used for mark- ing any and every stage in the writer's thought, or any and every change in structure. 6. It is not the proper copula for expressing subordination, that is, the relation of cause and effect, or of time and place. On the contrary, the sole legitimate use of and is to mark addition or eo-ordination. Note the correct use of and by Macaulay, p. 242, by Scott, p. 242, Ruskin, p. 248, Irving, p. 253 ; in the following, from Carlyle, observe the possibility of vivid yet accurate descrip- tion with but a single (indispensable) and: — Noble Mansion! There stoodest thou, in deep Mountain Amphi- theatre, on umbrageous lawns, in thy serene solitude ; stately, massive, all of granite; glittering in the western sunbeams, like a palace of El Dorado, overlaid with precious metal. Beautiful rose up, in wavy curvature, the slope of thy guardian Hills : of the greenest was their sward, embossed with its dark-brown frets of crag, or spotted by some spreading solitary Tree and its shadow. Note the following specimen of incorrect and : — In other years Senator Anthony's crisp and pungent paragraphs in the journal were very notable and influential, and his paper was one of the lialf-dozen leading journals in New England. This fails to express the relation of cause and effect which was in the writer's mind ; the writer might have said : — In other years Senator Anthony, by means of his crisp and pungent paragraphs, m^de the journal one of the, etc. Another specimen of the abused and is this : — Carlyle is particularly liappy in the choice of illustrative figures of speech, and they give clearness and vigor to his style. PARAGUAPHING. 259 This could be greatly improved :— By his peculiarly happy choice of illustrative figures of speech Car- lyle gives to his style clearness and vigor. Had Hawthorne been slipshod, he might have written :— They now went below stairs, and Phoebe— not so much assuming the office as attracting it to herself by the magnetism of innate fitness— took the most active part in preparing breakfast. But Hawthorne was not slipshod ; he wrote : — They now went below stairs, where Phoebe, etc. The young writer is advised to scrutinize every and, reject- ing two out of three. Should the rejecting necessitate the re- writing of the entire sentence, all the better. 2. But. — The misuse of hvt consists in employing it as a uni- versal expression for each and every shade of opposition, con- trast, difference, or variety ; whereas it is properly used to ex- press that shade which is exclusive of the others.^ Thus : — The maid is not dead but sleepeth. Power and authority are sometimes bought by kindness ; but they can never be begged as alms. I wish a serviceable but inexpensive coat. The Puritans hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectator. The young should learn to scrutinize every hiil, comparing it with such other words as however, still, yet, nevertheless, etc. — words which express merely modification, concession, qualifi- cation — and giving them the preference, if possible. Note Hawthorne's discriminating use of both hut and never- theless, p. 250, and Burke's use of hut and whereas in the fol- lowing : — We know, too, that the emulation of such parties, their contradic- tions, their reciprocal necessities, their hopes and their fears, must send them all in turn to him that holds the balance of the state. The parties are the game.sters ; hut government keeps the table, and is sure to be tlie winner in the end. When this game is played, I really think that it is * These remarks do not apply to &ui in the sense of mdy, except, without ; as, If I may but touch his clothes. Eyes have they, but they see not. 260 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. more to be feared that the people will be exhausted than that govern- ment will not be supplied. Whei-eas, whatever is got by acts of absolute power ill obeyed .... will be n&rrow, feeble, uncertain, and precarious. Among prominent writers Macaulay, who is careful in the use of and, disfigures his style with an excess of hut's. The following may serve as a specimen : — Addison sat for Malmesbury in the House of Commons which was elected in 1708. But the House of Commons was not the field for him. The bashfulness of his nature made his wit and eloquence useless in debate. He once rose, but could not overcome his diffidence, and ever after remained silent. Nobody can think it strange that a great writer should fail as a speaker. But many, probably, will think it strange that Addison's failure as a speaker should have had no unfavorable effect on his success as a politician. In our time a man of high rank and great fortune might, though speaking very little and very ill, hold a consider- able post. But It would now be inconceivable that a mere adventurer .... should become .... Secretary of State, without some oratorical talent. In the above the sequence of thought is far from clear, and the whole should be reconstructed. Variety. — It is highly desirable that a writer should not con- struct his paragraphs too much alike, that he should not make his sentences all long or all short, that he should not use to ex- cess the same diction or the same form of sentence. No rules can be given for securing variety ; the student must examine the methods of the best masters. In this respect, as in so many others, Burke is admirable. Thus : — As long as you have the wisdom to keep the sovereign authority of this country as the sanctuary of liberty, the sacred temple consecrated to our common faith, wherever the chosen race and sons of England worship freedom, they will turn their faces towards you. The more they multiply, the more friends you will have ; the more ardently they love liberty, the more perfect will be their obedience. Slavery they can have anywhere. It is a weed that grows in every soil. They may have it from Spain, they may have it &om Prussia. But, until you become lost to all feeling of your true interest and your natural dignity, freedom they can have from none but you. This is the commodity of price, of which you have the monopoly. The following is from Irving's The Devil and Tom Walker : — His reputation for a ready-moneyed man, who would lend money out for a good consideration, soon spread abroad. Everybody remembers PABAGEAPHINa. 261 the time of Governor Belcher, jyhen money was particularly scai'ce. It was a time of paper credit. The country had been deluged with govr ernment bills, the famous Land Bank had been established ; there had been a rage for speculating, the people had run mad with schemes for new settlements, for building cities in the wilderness ; land-jobbers went about with maps of grants, and townships, and Eldorados, lying nobody knew where, but which everybody was ready to purchase. In a word, the great speculating fever which breaks out every now and then in the country had raged to an alarming degree, and everybody was dreaming of making sudden fortunes from nothing. As usual the fever had sub- sided, the dream had gone off and the Imaginary fortunes with it ; the patients were left in doleful plight, and the whole country resounded with the consequent cry of " hard times." Carlyle's easiest manner is illustrated in the following : — The Courage we desire and prize is not the Courage to die decently, but to live manfully. This, when by God's grace it has been given, lies deep in the soul; like genial heat, fosters all other virtues and gifts; without it they could not live. In spite of our innumerable Waterloos and Peterloos, and suc^ campaigning as there has been, this Courage we allude to and call the only true one, is perhaps rarer in these last ages than it has been in any other since the Saxon invasion under Hengist. Altogether fextinct it can never be among men ; otherwise the species Man were no longer for this world : here and there, in all times, under various guises, men are sent hither not only to demonstrate but exhibit it, and testify, as from heart to heart, that it is still possible, still prac- ticable. Historical Present.— This is a device for giving, if not ex- actly force, at least vivacity to a narrative. It presupposes in the writer a vivid imagination, by the operation of which past events seem to be actually present. Within proper limits the device is effective. But these limits are usually transgressed by the young, who change from past to present and back to past without motive or justification. Thus : — The Romans now tm-n aside in quest of provisions. The Helvetians mistook the movement for retreat. They purme and give Caesar his chance, etc' At last the long-looked-for spring appeared . .'. and we gladly gave up . winter amusements for our out-of-doors sports. Again we glide in our swift sheUs . . . again we play ball . . : and take long evening strolls and sit by the open window, etc' 1 Genung, Practical Bhetoric. p. 113. « A. S. HUl, Fouvdationsof Khetoric, p. 97. 262 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. School and college compositions and examination papers swarm with blunders like the above. The writers seem to look upon the historical present as an indispensable ingredi- ent in all narration, something to be forced in when other resources fail. They are evidently not aware that it is an in- genious device, requiring the utmost tact. The evil will be greatly diminished by the observance of a few practical rules. 1. The historical present presupposes a vivid imagination. Are you sure that you possess such an imagination ? Are you really aglow over this particular passage, do you actually have a vision of the action and the actors? If you entertain the slightest doubt on these points, refrain from the present and keep to the soberer and safer preterite. 2. Do not mix up preterite and present in the same para- graph. A good illustration of the observance of the rule is the description of Paul, p. 241. 3. Introduce and dismiss the historical present with some words of explanation. Dickens, who is much given to the device, is usually careful to mark the transitions. Thus, in giving a generalized narrative of David Copperfield's life soon after the mother's second marriage, he begins : ' — Let me remember how it used to be, and bring one morning back again. I come into the second-best parlor after breakfast. . . . My mother is ready for me at her writing desk, etc. And so on for two pages, all in the present tense. Then the end is marked : — It seems to me, at this distance of time, as if my unfortunate studies generally took this course, etc. The whole ceremony of David's wedding with Dora is nar- rated in the present; it is in form a retrospective vision. Another writer much given to the device is Carlyle. His French Revolution is especially characterized by it. For most readers it is overdone, creating the impression of a mere vision rather than of sober historic actuality. The following extract, from Carlyle's article on Doctor Francia, is a sample of his more moderate style ; it is a description of an army-march across the Andes : — 1 Quoted in Genung's Practical Uhetoric, p. 113. PARAGRAPHING. 263 Wayworn sentries with difficulty keep themselves awake ; tired mules chew barley rations or doze On three legs; the feeble watch-fire will hardly kindle a cigar ; Canopus and the Southern Ci-oss glitter down ; and all snore steadily, begirt by granite deserts, looked on by the Con- stellations in that manner. CONNECTED PAEAGEAPHS. The rules and principles stated above are applicable to every paragraph, whether independent or connected. The principles which now follow are applicable only to para- graphs which form the continous parts of a comprehen- sive whole (essay or composition). Co-ordination of Paragraphs. — Since no two subjects can be treated in the same way, no general rules are possible for determining the order in which one paragraph should follow another, or for estimating the relative length and importance of paragraphs. A few practical suggestions, however, will be helpful. 1. Paragraphs should vary in length, i. e., it is desirable to have an alternation of moderately long and moderately short para- graphs. This, which is the practice of the most careful writers, has a twofold advantage ; it prevents monotony, and it suggests the natural divisions [articulations) of the narrative, description, or discussion. No rule, of course, can be laid down for the maximum and mininum length of a paragraph. Observation, however, shows us: — a. That certain writers are apt to write long paragraphs; others prefer short paragraphs, and seldom indulge in a very long one. 6. That the modern tendency is to keep the paragraph with- in the limits of the printed page. That is to say, the eye, and with it the mind, likes to rest at least once in the page on the typographical break called the indentation (see p. 240). We have become so accustomed to these rests that the sight of an imbroken page is apt to produce in us a feeling of impatience. Speaking in the most general terms, we may call a paragraph long, if it exceeds 300 words ; short, if it falls below 150, 264 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. It is also to be observed that in modem typography every speech, however short, even if containing but a word or two, delivered by one of the characters, is printed as a paragraph ; if very long, it may be broken up into several paragraphs. The first 25 paragraphs of Macaulay's second essay on Chatham may be taken in illustration of paragraph-varia- tion.^ In these paragraphs the line-numbers run : 16, 8, 4, 22, 16, 25, 9, 12, 23, 23, 10, 17, 21, 50, 19, 6, 10, 4, 10, 23, 17, 13, 10, 9, 10. The average line-length is lOJ words. It is interesting to note the long 50, 19 followed by the very short 6, 10, 4, 10. The 50- line paragraph describes the partition of powers between Pitt and Newcastle, and gives many details; it is shared almost evenly between the two men. Though long, it is easily grasped. 2. Paragraphs following each other may be made to vary, not only in length, hut also in quality. Thus, of the 25 paragraphs just mentioned, the longer ones abound in details, the shorter ones sum up in brief statements. And usually, but not invariably the longer sentences are in the longer paragraphs; yet the longest paragraph of all has only one sentence of any length, and that is near the middle. 3. There is only one way of acquiring a sense of paragraph- sequence ; by studying the method of approved writers. The 25 paragraphs of Macaulay's Chatham, already mentioned, will, if closely studied, afford a good insight into his method. The general theme is a rapid summing up of English politics from 1714 to 1760, and a sketch of the curious transformation which the Whig and Tory parties had undergone in these forty-six years. Some paragraphs are descriptive ; others narrate, in brief, the most prominent events ; others, again, portray the spirit of a clique or a movement ; some, for example, the well-known paragraph 5, are highly figurative ; others are plain and matter- of-fact. Each paragraph has its own special subject, its own character, its own movement, yet each not only exists for its own sake but co-operates to a common end. Having thus dis- posed of this theme, Macaulay passes to the next, with charac- 1 The text here followed is that of O. A. Lester, New York ; Maynard & Co. The line numbering will differ somewhat, of course, in other texts, but the ratio will remain the same. PARAGRAPHING. 265 teristic directness, beginning paragraph 26 with the following sentence : — Such was the posture of affairs when, on the twenty-fifth of October, 1760, George the Second suddenly died, and George the Third, then twenty-two years of age, became King, etc. Suggestions. — The student should accustom himself to examine critically long paragraph-sequences like the above, noting down the varying lengths, the special subject of each paragraph, its special character, its relation to those which immediately pre- cede and follow, — that is, how far it illustrates, confirms, ex- pands, or modifies them. The Link Paragraph. — This is a paragraph, usually a very short one, the object of which is to give prominence to a cer- tain aspect or turn of the discourse. It has been called, also, a Directive or Transitional Paragraph. Sometimes the link-paragraph gives weight and solemnity to a thought when first introduced, and suggests its significance for the future. For example, Hawthorne, after narrating at length the festivities for opening the House of the Seven Gables, just built, and the startling discovery of the owner, Colonel Pyncheon, sitting dead in his chair, inserts this short paragraph : — Thus early had that one guest — the only guest who is certain, at one time or another, to find his way into every human dwelling — thus early had Death stepped across the threshold of the House of the Seven Qables! The reader feels instinctively that death, sudden and mysteri- ous death, is to be a prominent feature in the sequel. At other times the link-paragraph recalls us to the precise point in the narrative or discussion from which there has been a departure for some special purpose. Thus, in The House of the Seven Gables (ch. xv.), Hepzibah, goaded to frenzy, pours out her full wrath upon the Judge. Then follow several pages, taken up with an analysis of his character, past and present. Then comes this short paragraph, recalHng us to the present situation : — But our affair now Is with Judge Pyncheon as he stood confronting the fierce outbreak of Hepzibah's wrath. Without premeditation, to X 266 COMPOSITION AND BSETORIO. her own surprise and indeed terror, she had given vent, for once, to the inveteracy of her resentment, cherished against this kinsman for thirty- years. Again, the link-paragraph may sum up several preceding paragraphs and offer an easy transition to the next portion of the subject. Thus Burke, in his Conciliation, having discussed in several short paragraphs the inexpediency of resorting to force to repress the colonists, introduces the following link : — These, Su-, are my reasons for not entertaining that high opinion of untried force, by which many gentlemen, for whose sentiments in other particulars I have great respect, seem to be so greatly captivated. But there is still behind a third consideration concerning this object, which serves to determine my opinion on the sort of policy which ought to be pursued in the management of America, even more than its population and its commerce : I mean its temper and character. As a specimen of linking in simple narrative we may note the last paragraph in the second chapter of Silas Mamer : — But about the Cliristmas of that fifteenth year a second great change came over Marner's life, and his history became blent in a singular manner with the life of his neighbors. Chapter third introduces the neighbors. Occasionally the office of a link-paragraph is not so much to sum up as to expand and illustrate in an unusual manner the thought of the preceding paragraph. Thus the well-known paragraph 5 of Macaulay's Chatham illustrates the doctrine of paragraph 4, (namely, that the Whigs and Tories had changed r61es), by means of the following striking figure: — Dante tells that he saw, in Malebolge, a, strange encounter between a human form and a serpent. The enemies, after cruel wounds inflicted, stood for a time glaring on each other. A great cloud surrounded them, and then a wonderful metamorphosis began. Each creature was trans- figured into the likeness of its antagonist. The serpent's tail divided itself into two legs ; the man's legs intertwined themselves into a tail. The body of the serpent put forth arms ; the arms of the man shrank into his body. At length the serpent stood up a man, and spake; the man sank down a sei-pent, and glided hissing away. Something like this was the transformation which, during the reign of George the First, befell the two English parties. Each gradually took the shape and color of its foe ; till at length the Tory rose up erect, the zealot of freedom, and the "Whig crawled and licked the dust at the feet of power. PARAGRAPHING. 267 Caution. — The young reader should be on his guard against mistaking every short, brisk paragraph, especially in narrative and description, for a link. The office of the genuine link- paragraph, as already stated, is to sum up, to pause and look forward, or to linger suggestively ; its necessary effect is that of a slight halt, be it never so slight. Whereas an ordinary paragraph, when short, rather accelerates the general move- ment. Irving's story of Buckthome affords examples of both sorts in close proximity. Thus paragraph 48 is a link : — In this way, then, did I enter tbe metropolis, a strolling vagabond, on the top of a caravan, with a crew of vagabonds about me ; but I was as happy as a prince ; for, like Prince Hal, I felt myself superior to my situation, and knew that I could at any time cast it off, and emerge into my proper sphere. This not only sums up the past and present but suggests the future; to a reader familiar with Irving's covert irony it sug- gests also that this future may not be quite as the young run- away fancies. Paragraph 71 tells how Buckthome " emerged into his proper sphere." In the midst of my doleful dumps, some one tapped me on the shoulder, and, looking up, I saw a couple of rough sturdy fellows stand- ing behind me. Not knowing what to expect, I jumped on my legs, and was preparing again to make battle, but was tripped up and secured in a twinkling. This is not a link, but merely a brisk narrative paragraph ; the reader is hurried along as Buckthome was hurried. The two fellows capture him for the reward offered by his father. Paragraph 75, however, is a link. Thus ended my first peep into the world. I returned home, rich in good-for-nothing experience, and dreading the reward I was to receive for my improvement. My reception, however, was quite different from what I had expected. My father had a spice of the devil in him, and did not seem to like me the worse for my freak, which he termed "sow- ing my wild oats." He happened to have some of his .sporting friends to dine the very day of my return ; they made me tell some of my adventures, and laughed heartily at them. Buckthome's adventures as a strolling player are summed up ; while the latter portion of the paragraph suggests a new, yet different, phase of vagabondage. 268 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Single-Sentence Paragraphs. — In the narrative and de- scriptive writing of even good writers single-sentence para- graphs are not infrequent ; nor are they to be condemned, if used in moderation, for they lend vivacity to the narrative, cer- tainly in short stories. But in writing of a more serious nature, especially in exposition and argumentation, the single-sentence paragraph is out .of place, unless it is a link ; it mars the con- tinuity and causes the discourse to appear desultory. Occa- sionally in a writer of acknowledged ability a paragraph may seem to violate the principle ; on closer examination, however, it will usually prove to be a link. Thus paragraph 51 of Burke's Conciliation : — Adhering, Sir, as I do, to this policy, as well as for the reasons I have just given, I think this new project of hedging-in population to be neither prudent nor practicable. sums up a full discussion of the policy of arresting colonial growth by discontinuing land-grants, and marks the transition to the next topic, namely, the attempt to arrest colonial commerce. The young are by nature only too apt to write disjointedly, to attempt to give prominence to a thought by detaching it from its surroundings and setting it off in a separate paragraph. Or they go to the opposite extreme, writing page after page without a break. Both faults can be cured only by careful training in the art of grouping thoughts and giving to a com- position that quality which is called structure. Echo from Paragraph to Paragraph. — This resembles the sentence-echo discussed p. 253. It consists in making the be- ginning sentence of the paragraph echo the thought, and some- times even the wording, of the conclusion of the preceding paragraph. For example, De Quincey, narrating his running away from school and his efforts to meet his sister, who was to act as peacemaker between him and the mother, ends one para- graph and begins the next thus : — ■. Not one minute had I waited, when in glided among the ruins— not my fair sister, but my bronzed Bengal uncle ! A Bengal tiger would not more liave startled me. Now, to a dead certainty, 1 said, here comes a fatal barrier to the prosecution of my scheme, etc. PARAOBAPHING. 269 The following is from Swift. The emperor of Lilliput has sent an envoy to Blefuscu to demand the return of Gulliver. The answer of the emperor of Blefuscu is given in a second paragraph. The third begins thus: — With this answer the envoy returned to Lilliput, etc. The connection would have been less direct had Swift written : " The envoy returned with this answer," etc. The following is from Hawthorne. Hepzibah Pyncheon is expecting the return of her brother Clifford, but not so soon. The first paragraph ends : — During the latter process an omnibus came to a standstill under the branches of the elm tree. Hepzibah's heart was in her mouth. Remote and dusky . . . was that region of the Past whence her only guest might be expected to arrive. Was she to meet him now f The next begins : — Somebody, at all events, was passing from the furthest interior of the omnibus towards its entrance. A gentleman alighted ; but it was only to offer his hand to a young girl whose slender figure lightly descended the steps . . . towards the House of the Seven Gables, etc. In the above the combination of paragraph-echo with the actual shock of surprise to Hepzibah is admirable. This paragraph-echo is of frequent occurrence in the most careful writers, e. g., in Irving, Hawthorne, Macaulay, Burke. It is an admirable device for securing continuity of expression and preventing the slightest awkwardness or uncertainty in passing from topic to topic. The student is urgently advised to acquire the habit of noting it in his reading ; also to practice it in his writing. It is not as difficult to acquire as it might seem at first sight, and when acquired will be of lasting service. Chapter-Echo. — Occasionally we find what may be called c-hapter-echo. Thus eh. ii. of Hawthorne's Marble Faun ends : "'Miriam,' whispered Hilda, 'it is your model.'" Ch. iii. be- gins : " Miriam's model has so important a connection," etc. This is the more noteworthy since ch. iii. is a reverting narrative, that is, it begins the story some months earlier than the events of chs. i. and ii. Paragraphs of Introduction and Conclusion. — In a com- position of some length it is customary to introduce the gen- 270 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. eral subject (theme) in a short paragraph, also to state the con- clusion in a similar short paragraph. There can be no objec- tion to this practice,. provided it is not suffered to become too mechanical and artificial. The length and quality of introductory and concluding para- graphs will vary greatly according to the nature and amplitude of the composition itself. In an elaborate essay for publication — e. g., an essay by Macaulay — both paragraphs may be some- what long. An examination of thirty-six of Macaulay's essays shows that the longest introduction, that to Madame D'Arblay, has about 490 words ; the shortest, Robert Mmitgomery, has only 60 words. The average length is approximately 250 words. But Macaulay's essays, being nearly all in the form of book- reviews, do not, perhaps, offer a safe test. The reviewer gives the nominal introductory paragraph, sometimes more than one paragraph, to a brief estimate of the book, before passing to his real subject, the person who is the central figure of the book. Hence we are not always certain which paragraph to take as the introduction. As to the concluding paragraph in Macaulay, that might be assumed a priori to tend toward uniformity. But the facts are otherwise. The longest, that to Lord Holland, has approximately 630 words ; the two shortest, Restoration Drama- tists and Walpole's Letters, have only 30 and 33 words. There are a few others almost as short. These short paragraphs, when examined, will be found to have a peculiar personal character — to state an after-thought to the real conclusion. The average length is perhaps 230 words. These statistics prove that the representative essayist of the century did not hesitate to write, when he saw fit, quite long introductions and conclusions, and seldom wrote very short ones. His example is counter to the rule usually given, that introductions and conclusions should be short. A cursory ex- amination of vol. iv. of De Quincey, his Biographies and Bio- graphic Sketches, reveals an equal amount of freedom in him. In P. G. Hamerton's Human Intercourse the introductory para- graphs of the several essays range from 9 words to 270; the concluding, from 37 to 603. The average for the introductory is not much over 100 ; for the concluding, nearly 300. The writings of Macaulay, De Quincey, and Hamerton, how- ever, are not to be looked upon as models after which to con- PARAGRAPHING. 271 struct school compositions and college essays. These latter are necessarily very short and simple in structure. The writer does not attempt to treat the subject fully, but merely to present a few points coherently. Hence the utility of the rule for school and college, that paragraphs of introduction and conclusion — if employed at all — should be short. See p. 290. The introduction should state the general subject as concisely as possible without sacrificing clearness. Probably 50 words would be an ample limit. Webster's argument in the Dartmouth Col- lege case is a model : — The general question is, whether the acts of the legislature of New Hampshire of the 27th of June and of the 18th and 26th of December, 1816, are valid and binding on the plaintiflfs without their acceptance or assent. The following, somewhat longer, but equally good, is from Euskin's lecture on Turner and His Works: — My object this evening is [not so much to give you any account of the works or the genius of the great painter whom we have so lately lost (which it would require rather a year than an hour to do), as] to give you some idea of the position which his works hold with respect to the landscape of other periods, and of the general condition and prospects of the landscape art of the present day. [I will not lose time in prefatory remarks, as I have little enough at any rate, but will enter abruptly on my subject.] By suppressing the portions .in square brackets, Ruskin might have stated his subject in 40 words; but the extra words have their value, as every reader will see. If the composition is in simple Narration, the introductory paragraph may consist of a brief statement of the time, place, and occasion from which the action starts. Thus : — On the summit of one of the heights of the Odenwald, a wild and romantic tract of Upper Germany, that lies not far from the confluence of the Main and the Rhine, there stood, many, many years since, the castle of the Baron von Landshort, etc. But there is less need of an introduction in Narration than in any other form of writing. In Description {i. e. a long circumstantial description) it is advisable to begin by locating the object described. Thus: — 272 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Half-way down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely-peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon street ; the house is the old Pyneheon house ; and an elm tree of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-bom child by the title of the Pyncheon elm. In Exposition and Argument it is highly advisable, if not in- dispensable, to introduce clearly and succinctly the thing to be expounded or the proposition to be established. Thus : — The subject to which I have to beg your attention during the ensuing hour is "The Relation of Physiological Science to Other Branches of Knowledge." [Here follows a paragraph of personal explanation.] Regarding Physiological Science, then, in its widest sense, as the equivalent of Biology, the Science of Individual Life, we have to con- sider in succession : 1. Its position and scope as a branch of knowledge. 2. Its value as a means of discipline. 3. Its worth as practical information. 4. At what period it may best be made a branch of education. The concluding paragraph of a composition should, if possi- ble, leave upon the reader's mind an impression of power. It should not merely sum up the writer's views and statements, but it should drive them home by a succession of quick hard blows. There should also be, if the subject admits of it, an ex- pression of feeling. The conclusion of Macaulay's second essay on The Earl of Chatham is at once forcible, dignified, and pro- foundly emotional : — Chatham sleeps near the northern door of [Westminster Abbey], in a spot which has ever since been appropriated to statesmen, as the other end of the same transept has long been to poets. Mansfield rests there, and the second William Pitt, and Fox, and Grattan, and Canning, and Wilberforce. In no other cemetery do so many great citizens lie within so narrow a space. High over those venerable graves towers the stately monument of Chatham, and from above, his own effigy, graven by a cunning hand, seems still, with eagle face and outstretched arm, to bid England be of good cheer and to hurl defiance at her foes. The gen- eration which raised that memorial of him has disappeared. The time has come when the rash and indiscriminate judgments which his con- temporaries passed on his character may be calmly revised by history. And history, while, for the warning of vehement, high, and daring PARAQRAPHINO. 273 natures, she notes his many errors, will yet deliberately pronounce that, among the eminent men whose bones lie near his, scarcely one has left a more stainless, and none a more splendid, name. The above Is oratorical in tone. This is simpler : — But there is another memorial of Edgar Tryan, which bears a fuller record: it is Janet Dempster, rescued from self-despair, strengthened with divine hopes, and now looking back on years of purity and help- ful labor. The man who has left such a memorial behind him must have been one whose heart beat with true compassion and whose lips were moved by fervent faith. The conclusion of Darwin's Origin of Species is remarkable for the ability with which the author sums up and makes con- crete the results of his reasoning: — It is interesting to contemplate a tangled bank, clothed with many plants of many kinds, with birds singing on the bushes, with various insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms, so different from each other, and dependent upon each other in so complex a manner, have all been produced by laws acting around us. These laws, taken in the largest sense, being Growth with reproduction ; Inheritance, which is almost implied by reproduction; Variability, from the indi- rect and direct action of the conditions of life, and from use and disuse ; a Ratio of Increase so high as to lead to a Struggle for Life, and as a consequence to Natural Selection, entaiUng Divergence of Character and the Extinction of less improved forms. Thus, from the war of nature, from famine and death, the most exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the production of the higher animals, directly follows. There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one ; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved. THE INDEPENDENT PARAGRAPH. This form of stating one's views or knowledge is com- paratively modern. In our day its use is growing rapidly in the daily and weekly newspapers and the monthly magazines. Not only the news-columns, but even the edi- torial pages, abound in independent paragraphs, varying in length from two or three lines to thirty or forty, and touching upon every conceivable subject. A few exam- is 274 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. pies will suffice. The first paragraph is one that gained a prize for saying the most upon the subject in two hun- dred words. I feel repaid for the expense of my trip to the World's Fair because strengthened in seven ways. 1. Spiritually. I know as never before that we, the people of this world, are brothers, and all need the gospel ; that missionaries should be sent to every land. 2. Mentally. This Fair has caused me to think more intelligently. Before attending the Fair I studied faithfully, to be able to use my time wisely. Since reaching home I have been doubly interested not only in news concerning the Fair, but in the general news and history of all nations. 3. Physicaily. For several years I had not had one day of freedom from the care of my little ones. That week's outing gave me a complete rest and change. 4. Socially. I have more to talk about, and need not spend time dis- cussing my neighbors' failings. 5. In manners. With few social advan- tages, I find the travelling and staying at large hotels have been advan- tageous to me. 6. In refinement. The pictures, lectures, concerts, all had a refining influence. 7. In the nursery. I got many ideas in the care and training of children. We may soon expect to see our maidens working mythological char- acters, and illustrating fables and legends on our bedspreads, with de- scriptive lines by some of our poets. At least they will do so if they follow English precedent. The idea of a bedspread with a, good and appropriate poem embroidered on it is rather a pleasing one, and would, I think, be far more interesting on a cold morning, when one hesitates about rising, or when one is a little ill, than impossible flowers, or a quilt of many colors that puts out the eyes by its brilliance. At the London Society of Arts and Crafts there was lately shown a linen bed- spread worked in wools, on which were embroidered verses by the poet William Morris. The work was done by his daughter, a most talented young woman, who is of great assistance to her father in the invention and execution of beautiful things for English households. From a mixture having the proportions of about one quart of crude petroleum to two ounces of resin, five ounces of powdered soap, and eleven ounces of caustic soda. Engineer Maestraccl of the Italian navy produces fuel bricks that he recommends for vessels as being less bulky than coal and safer than liquid fuel. The materials are heated until converted into a thick paste, poured into moulds, and placed for a few minutes in a drying oven. The addition of 20 per cent, of woo'd saw- dust and 20 per cent, of clay is advised as a means of making the briquettes cheaper and more solid. Tried on tugboats, the petroleum briquettes furnished about three times as much heat as coal briquettes, and gave out very little smoke and left little or no ash. PABA GRAPHING. 275 Peculiar Conciseness of the Independent Paragraph. — Inasmuch as the independent paragraph is an attempt to dispose of a subject in a few hues, it must be extremely concise. This conciseness can be secured only by observ- ing with the utmost rigor the rules of unity and sequence. The writer must advance rapidly from point to point, without the slightest deviation from the main purpose. He must perceive with perfect clearness what he has to say, and must say it with exactness. The following quotations will show what can be done within very nar- row limits. A mouse saw his shadow on the wall. Said he, " I am larger than an elephant; I will go forth and conquer the world." At that moment he espied a cat. In the next he had slipped through a hole in the wall. Land was the only species of property which, in the old time, carried any respectability with it. Money alone, apart from some tenure of land, not only did not make the possessor great and respectable, but • actually made him at once the object of plunder and hatred. Witness the history of the Jews in this country in the early reigns after the Conquest. Friends as we are, have long been, and ever shall be, I doubt whether I should have prefaced these pages with your name were it not to regis- ter my judgment that, in breaking up and cultivating the unreclaimed wastes of Humanity, no labors have been so strenuous, so continuous, or half so successful, as yours. While the world admires in you an unUmited knowledge of mankind, deep thought, vivid imagination, and bursts of eloquence from unclouded heights, no less am I delighted when I see you at the school-room you have liberated from cruelty, and at the cottage yon have purified from disease. The Independent Paragraph in School "Work. — The use- fulness of practice in paragraph-writing for school (and also col- lege) work can scarcely be over-estimated. This usefulness is not restricted to the English room proper, but, on the contrary, extends to all departments and subjects. Every written answer to an examination question, whether in geography, history, science, or literature, is an independent paragraph. Since, as all examiners know, a large percentage of time and energy is wasted upon examination-papers in the mere effort to puzzle out what the writers really meant to say, and since this waste 276 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. might be avoided were the writers carefully trained to observe unity and sequence, it follows that the question of correct para- graphing is one which interests every teacher. In fact, it may be asked whether every teacher should not teach his own pupils to write paragraphs upon subjects in his line of study, and thereby co-operate in making the entire curriculum a training in correct and rapid composition. In subjects other than Eng- lish the paragraphs would usually be of an expository nature, though opportunities for narration and description would be frequent enough, e. g., in history and geography. In the English room proper the paragraph is the most avail- able means of specific training in the details of English com- position. Being short, it can be written in twenty to thirty minutes. Therefore it may be required very frequently, al- most daily. And since every paragraph embodies most of the features of Invention and Expression, every paragraph gives an opportunity for correcting what may be called the writer's chronic faults. Compared with the paragraph, the essay or old- fashioned composition is at a disadvantage. It must be written . at intervals or piecemeal, can be required less frequently, and yet offers no greater opportunity for correction. That is, al- though a composition may contain three or four times as many errors, in the aggregate, as a short paragraph, it will not con- tain more kinds of error than a short paragraph by the same writer. Furthermore, the fact that the paragraph is written in the school-room, under the eye of the teacher, is a guarantee of honest work, whereas it is almost impossible to have an equivalent guarantee in the case of compositions written out- side the school-room. One can never be quite certain that the writer may not have received improper aid. There is a growing belief that the school instruction of the future in English will lie in the direction of the paragraph. This belief rests upon two grounds : first, that the essentials of composition can be learned through the paragraph, and that the paragraph can be required in sufficient quantity under any school-system ; second, that the pupil who has been carefully trained to express himself in paragraphs, even should he be carried no farther in school, will have little difficulty in subse- quently mastering the art of building up an essay from the paragraph, especially if he has studied paragraphs in groups. CHAPTER X. COMPOSITION-WRITING. The term Composition may be applied to any piece of writing, whether long or short, whether complicated or simple. Thus, any one of the independent paragraphs quoted pp. 274, 275 is no less a composition than Carlyle's Frederick the Great, a work in several volumes, each volume divided into books, chapters, sections, and paragraphs. In the present chapter, however, the term Composition is employed in the usual high-school- and college sense, to denote a piece of writing which may vary in length from 500 words to 1500 or 2000 words, and which is to embody the knowledge, views, and feelings of a young writer upon a subject within the range of school and col- lege life or study. Whether the writing be actually called a composition, or an essay, does not matter. Neither does it matter, for the present chapter, whether the subject be chosen by the writer or assigned to him by the teacher. Although, as has been already stated, p. 238, it is the oflBce of life and of education in general to find out what to write (that is, to supply the writer with observations, thoughts, sentiments, — in short, with the material out of which he is to construct his composition), nevertheless a manual of rhetoric like the present can and should assist the young writer, by laying down for his Y 277 278 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. guidance and direction a few simple general principles. These may be briefly set forth under three headings. 1. PBEPARING THE SUBJECT. Defining the Subject. — The subjects usually assigned to the young, or chosen by them, are too wide and conse- quently too vague. Let us suppose, for example, the sub- ject to be Ambition. What is a young writer to do with it ? Either it suggests nothing at all, or it suggests every- thing at once, without aim or plan. Whereas, if it be properly restricted, that is, defined or narrowed, it becomes at once more manageable. Thus, it may be restricted to Ambition in School Work, or Am- bition in Athletic Contests. On the other hand, if the writer wishes to give to the subject an historical turn, he may hmit it to Ambition in Alexander the Great, in Hannibal, in Julius Csssar, or in Napoleon. As a second example let us take George Washington. This may be restricted to Washington at Valley Forge, or Washington as President, and so forth. In like manner Benjamin Pranklin may be restricted to Franklin as a Boy and Young Man, or Franklin in FVance, or Franklin and the Kite. Suppose the subject to be Describe the Town in which you Live. This may be handled in many different ways. The writer may describe the town with regard to the excellence of its architec- ture and the beauty of the surrounding country ; or, he may describe it with regard to its trade and manufactures ; or, again, with reference to the character of its population and municipal government. In general, the narrower, more definite the subject, the easier it becomes to handle. The first direction, therefore, is this : — Before toiuMng pen to paper, look at the subject deliberately, turn it over in your mind, see how it may be divided, recog- nize the various aspects under which it may be treated, and then fteleri those divisions or those aspects which seem to you the most promising. COMPOSITION- WRITING. 279 Investigating the Subject. — The proper choice of method will depend, in great measure, upon the nature of the subject. In Description and Narration the writer must determine which feature or incident is the most striking or the most important, and then discover what else can be effectively grouped around this as a centre. For example, in describing the trade and manufactures of a town, it is advisable to determine the business-centre, or the controlling business, and subordinate the rest to it. In describ- ing the natural beauty of a town, one should seize upon the prominent feature, whether river, or lake, or hill. In narrating, one should determine the cardinal incident, and treat the other incidents as prelude or as sequel. In Exposition, that is, the explanation of a phenome- non or the discussion of a law or a general relation, the writer is always to consider the law of cause and effect, and the possibility of illustrating by means of resemblances and differences. Put in simpler language, the writer may state what the thing is, what it is not; what it is like, what it is unlike; what has produced it, what may in turn be' produced by it. Let us suppose the subject to be The Habit of Neatness. What other habits most closely resemble it ? What habits are in most evident contrast with it ? How is the habit formed and main- tained ? What are the good effects upon the person himself and upon his associates? What are the unpleasant conse- quences of want of neatness ? Freedom of Treatment. — Every subject, however re- stricted, can be treated in more ways than one ; the writer has his choice. For example, Washington at Valley Forge may be treated as a mere description of the hardships of the Continental troops ; there may also be a contrast -with the comfort of the British troops in their winter quarters. Again, the causes which forced Washington into this trying position may be mentioned. Going a step farther, the writer may introduce the change brought 280 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. about by the French alliance. From the moral side, the writer may draw a contrast between the sanguine hopes of the Ameri- cans in 1775 and 1776 and their subsequent reverses. Examining thus a subject from every side, studying it in all its relations, the scholar ought to have no difficulty in getting together enough facts, impressions, thoughts, and ideas for his purpose. Unity and Coherence. — The principles of Unity and Sequence, discussed in the chapter on Paragraphing, apply with no less force to the composition as a whole. Every composition, however brief and unpretending, ought to be' an organized unit. It should give evidence of a clearly understood purpose of the writer. Either it should in- terest the reader by its attractive presentation of the appearance and actions of objects and persons, or it should convey information in an orderly shape, or it should teach some lesson of value. What is to be the "point" of any particular composition, the writer must decide for himself. He should decide before he begins to com- pose ; for it is only after deciding that he can profitably select and arrange his material. The following practical application of the general principles given above should make the process perfectly intelligible. The process, it will be observed, consists in self-interrogation, or — as it has been otherwise described — "in surrounding the subject with questions." The subjects here treated are fairly representative of school- work. Some are concrete, others are abstract ; some are in the line of description or narration, others in the line of exposition. View from the Bridge. Is the bridge of wood, iron, or stone ? What kind of water does it cross ? Is it a country bridge, or does it connect parts of a city or town ? How does it compare in size with other bridges ? How long has it been built? Anything peculiar in its appearance? COMPOSITION- WRITING. 281 How does the view up stream differ from the view down ? Can vessels pass under it, or through it (draw) ? Is there much traffic over the bridge? Does this traffic vary much from day to day, or at different hours of the day ? What persons use it most ? What near objects most conspicuous from the bridge ? What distant objects ? Any of these objects worthy of special descrip- tion ? Is the general outlook from the bridge attractive, or un- attractive? Why? Any interesting stories associated with the bridge ? [In like manner may be treated the view from a church-spire, a tower, or other elevation.] A Day in the City. [By one living in the country.'] How did I get to town, by railroad, steamboat, wagon, or afoot? First object that arrested my attention in the city? Appearance of the streets in general, wide or narrow, well or badly kept ? Of the buildings in general ? General appearance of persons in the streets, well or badly dressed? Any indications of poverty, of wrong-doing? Ap- pearanse and conduct of the police ? How did boys and girls compare, in looks and conduct, with my home-acquaintances. Visit to a Factory. Location of building? Size, appearance outside, inside? WTiat articles manufactured? Water-power used, or steam, or electricity? Eooms clean and well ventilated ? How many employees ? Both men and women ? Any children? If so, how old? Gen- eral appearance of the employees ? \Miat part of the machinery, or what process, interested me especially ? Have the employees a reading-room, or any other place or means of entertainment, provided by the employer? The Study of Geogkaphy. How much time given to it in our school ? How much time to map-drawing ? Are we taught the geography of our neigh- 282 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. borhood, count}', state ? How much are we expected to know of the United States ? Of the several continents ? What do we learn of the influence of rivers, lakes, mountains, winds, rain upon the climate, upon vegetable and animal life, upon public health? What are the peculiar features of our neighborhood ? Difference between political geography and physical ? Value of both in studying history ? Contrast between the map of the United States in 1857 and the map for the present time. Similar contrast in maps of Africa. My Last Vacation. Did I spend it at home, or away ? Wholly in amusement, or did I accomplish any study or other work ? Let me recall one day as a fair sample of the others. To what extent has the vacation done me good? Did I need the rest, or change ? What would have been the efiect, had I spent every morning in reviewing a subject in which I am de- ficient ? How did my schoolmates spend their vacation ? Any marked difference between myself and any of them ? Slang. What is meant by slang ? What kinds of persons use slang habitually? What persons are careful to avoid slang? Do I hear much in my daily life? Why should any one use slang? Does any good come of it? Any harm ? What is the opposite of slang? Wherein does it differ from bad grammar ? How are both treated in school ? Why ? Does the habit of using slang have any effect upon politeness, upon neatness, upon self-respect, upon the respect due to others ? Teavel. Does this mean travel in general, or my personal experience ? How much have I traveled, and where ? How much for pleas- ure, for business, for health ? How much knowledge of men and places have I gained from my travels ? Which trip has been especially pleasant or profit- able? Why? COMPOSITION-WBITINO. 283 How does ordinary travel differ from exploration? What books of travel have I read? Which have interested me most? Of what benefit is travel to business ? To science ? How does travel now differ from travel eighty years ago? Give some facts illustrating the hardships of travel in this coun- try about 1810. Is a traveler necessarily wiser or better than one who stays at home ? How far may a traveler be described as " one who has sold his own lands to see other men's?" What is meant by the assertion that "we bring home only what we took away with us " ? Which of my acquaintances are better for their travel ? Subjects like these might be multiplied to any extent ; enough have been given to illustrate the method of " questioning." One thing at least ought to be evident : that the object of rhetorical invention is not to tell the writer what to know, but rather to aid him in discovering for him- self what he already knows. Our knowledge and views upon a subject are usually dormant ; when we begin to write we must wake them up. "Questioning" should, in truth, be made a regular class-exercise, cer- tainly if the members are young and inexperienced. A practical plan would be the following: — Announce a subject at the beginning of the hour. Spend the first half of the hour in discussing the subject and questioning the scholars upon it. Then let them spend the remainder of the hour in writing down rapidly their own questions and the answer to each. Return these rough outlines, with corrections and suggestions, at the beginning of the next hour, and require each scholar to rewrite his outline more fully and more carefully. The process is slow; but, within reasonable limits, the slower the better. In composition, as in other arts, for example, in piano-playing, the first movements are to be learned patiently and deliberately. Besides, the questioning-method is the best means of enforcing the doctrine that writing should begin with thinking. If the beginner can only learn to think promptly and systematically in company with the teacher and under the teacher's stimulus, the battle is more than half won. 2. FORMULATING- THE SUBJECT. The questioning process, illustrated above, is merely the first step in the art of composing. The next step is to learn to give to the whole composition unity and coherence, see p. 280, by properly formulating the subject, that is, by treating it systematically. The young writer is to learn to arrange his views and ideas in an order which the 284 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. reader can readily perceive and estimate. A few general directions, carefully followed, will be of great help. 1. Collecting Items. — This is substantially the question- ing process, but with some modification. The general direc- tion is this : Examine the subject from every point of view, question yourself, vrrite down the answer to each ques- tion upon a separate slip of paper. It will not be necessary, however, to write out every answer fully ; usually it will be enough to jot down a few words, a phrase, a catch- •word, anything that may recall the point. The paper slips should be of a uniform size, perhaps half as large as a postal card. 2. Arranging Items. — When all the items are thus col- lected, twenty, thirty, forty, or more, look them over care- fully several times, until they are all clear and present to your mind. Then arrange in small groups those slips which naturally belong together. Each group will be the founda- tion of a paragraph, see p. 240, the several items consti- tuting the body of the paragraph, see pp. 246-249. For keeping the items of one group together and separate from other groups, it will be convenient to use ungummed envelopes, one for each group. 3. Working Plan, or Outline. — Having collected and arranged his material, the student is now to decide upon the plan or structure of his composition. In the first place, he has probably too much material, too many para- graphs, and too many items in certain paragraphs. Ac- cordingly he must select some of the material and discard the rest as unavailable for his present purpose. In the next place, what particular direction is the composition to take, what is to be its aim f For every bit of writing, however unpretending, ought to aim at something. In fact, the writer must perceive the aim of his composition clearly, before he can select and reject material properly. A practical example will make the problem clear. The sub- ject, _we may suppose, is a personal account of : — COMPOSITION- WRITING. 285 Camping in the Adieondacks. Upon this subject the writer has accumulated a great number of items, such as, incidents of travel from his home to the Adirondacks ; his impressions of rivers, lakes, woods, moun- tains ; his impressions of guides and other strangers ; peculiari- ties of travel afoot or in canoe ; good and bad luck in fishing and hunting ; effects of the novel life and diet upon his health ; traits of character brought out by this mode of life in himself and his companions ; comparison between this mode of life and the life at home ; discovery of interesting and more or less un- familiar minerals, plants, animals; comparison of Adirondack scenery with home scenery. What disposition is the writer to make of all this material ? He himself must decide. His decision, however, will depend in a measure upon the length of his composition. If the writer is restricted to 600 or 700 words : a. He maj' narrate the more striking incidents of his trip, from the time he entered the region until he left it. 6. Or give in detail the incidents of a single day in the woods, as a sample of his tent-life in general. c. Or describe the prominent features of lakes and rivers, woods and mountains. d. Or mention the peculiarities of fishing or of hunting in the Adirondacks. e. Or discuss the gain to body and mind from such a trip, or the social features of such close companionship. From the above, and other similar aspects which may sug- gest themselves, the writer should select that one which suits him best, as the one upon which to concentrate his powers, and should formulate it in a sentence. Thus: — In this composition I am going to describe the lakes, woods, etc. in the Adirondacks. 'A sentence of this sort, written down, will be the writer's guide throughout his work, will be his working formula. He is not to insert it in his composition ; still less is he to take it for the title. But the sentence, the formula, he should have constantly before his eye and his mind. In a composition ' of more than usual length, say of 2500 or 3000 words, the writer might combine all the above-mentioned 286 COMPOSITION AND RSETORIC. aspects. He should, in that case, draw up his formula more elaborately, somewhat in this fashion : — I am going to narrate a three weeks' trip in the Adirondacks, telling where I went, describing some of the scenery, giving in detail the inci- dents of one day as a sample of the life, and stating facts enough to justify the conclusion that the trip has done me good. Here the description would be subordinate to the narrative, and the two together would lead up to the conclusion. In preparing such long compositions it is advisable to formu- late not only the general subject of the whole composition, but also the special subject of each paragraph. This may be done by writing at the top of a sheet of paper the formula for the whole composition, and below, in arithmetical numbering, a suc- cession of formulas, one for each paragraph. But a paragraph- formula need not be long ; usually a phrase indicating briefly the substance of the paragraph will be enough. To illustrate expository writing, we may formulate : — Neatness in School Life. The writer may state to himself his intention thus : — I will show what neatness is and what it does. First Paragraph. — Examples of neatness in dress, penmanship, drawing, etc. Examples of want of neatness. [These examples, of course, are not to be made personalities.'] Second.- — Other good habits most closely resembling neatness. Bad habits usually associated with want of neatness. Third. — General principle or disposition of the mind, under- lying neatness. Show how this principle is wanting, wherever neatness is wanting. Fourth. — ^Connection of this same principle with other good habits. Show how its absence will lead to bad habits in gen- eral. Apply the saying : There may be many ways of doing a thing badly, but there is only one way of doing it well. Fifth. — Effects of the habit of neatness on the person himself; on his companions. Such a treatment of neatness, while not strictly philosophical, may at least serve to make expository writing intelligible ; the student will observe the method of explaining a thing by means of its resemblances and its differences, its cause and its effects. As a further illustration we may discuss : — COMPOSITION-WRITINO. 287 Charity Begins at Home. First. — Original meaning of the term " charity." Present use. Connection of the two. Second. — Opposite of charity, as the word is now used. Third. — Meaning of the whole phrase. Imagine the doctrine applied to the town in which you live. Good effects. Fourth. — Bad effects, if applied rigorously. Contrast " begin " and " end." The process of formulating the subject, by jotting down nu- merous items, grouping these into paragraphs, formulating each paragraph, and lastly drawing up a working plan, is neces- sarily slow. Certainly the first attempt will cost time and effort. But with every fresh composition the task will become lighter, until — after the fourth or fifth composition— the young writer perceives that he is acquiring a certain skill in formulating and outlining. But, slow or rapid, the process is the only sure means of curing the chronic fault of school and college composition, the lack of unity, order, coherence, and proportion. Every teacher of English knows that the ordinary composition, even if correct in grammar and diction, is rambling. The writer does not start off promptly, he is diffuse where he ought to be concise, or meagre where he ought to amplify, he omits neces- sary statements, and ends with a limp. All these evils can be traced back to one source : the writer has undertaken to com- pose without a plan. The cure, therefore, will consist in train- ing him to form a plan. One feature, especially, of good writing can be brought out with .the aid of a good working plan, namely, Proportion. The writer, we may assume, is about to describe the lakes, rivers, woods, and mountains of the Adirondacks, in a com- position of 600 words. Shall he treat all four parts of the subject alike, giving to each 150 words ? Or may he, by group- ing together the lakes and rivers, reduce the number of parts to three, and give to each 200 words? Or may he introduce a third variation, by giving 150 words to the mountains and 250 to the woods? Such questions can be answered only by the writer himself, and his answer will depend upon the range of his personal knowledge and the bent of his personal tastes. 288 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. In any case, it is his duty to raise the questions and to answer them. And he should answer them arithmetically :— Given so many hundred words for a whole composition in four, six, eight, nine paragraphs, how maay words shall I apportion to each sepa- rate paragraph, according to my estimate of its relative importance? 3. WRITING THE COMPOSITION. The First Draught. — Having prepared his working plan, the scholar is now to fill out his first draught. Here the following suggestions will be of service : — 1. Use ruled paper, the lines pretty far apart. Also leave an ample margin, perhaps of two or two and a half inches. This will give space for corrections and insertions. 2. Before beginning each paragraph, read over the items which make up its substance. Having these fresh in mind, write out the paragraph rapidly. At least do not linger over words and phrases, but be satisfied with putting your thoughts in tolerably coherent shape. Your present aim is to compose the paragraph as a whole, rather than to perfect each clause and sentence. It is a safe method to plan deliberately ; to write rapidly, with impetus ; to review with minute care. Revision. — When the whole composition is rough-draughted, lay it aside for a day or two, if possibk. An intermission, if only of a single day, enables the writer to approach the task of re- vision in the proper mood. While writing is a creative act, implying energy, warmth, not to say enthusiasm, revision, on the contrary, is critical, and calls for coolness and circumspec- tion. The writer is to revise his work in a judicial spirit, ap- proving or rejecting his own words and phrases as impartially as if he were judging the work of another person. In revising each paragraph, try to employ the Echo ; Con- nectives ; Repeated Structure ; Topic-Sentences. Also try the Paragraph-Echo. All these devices, which appear awkward at first, will become easier with each atteni.pt. In particular, Echo and Repeated Structure may be made to acquire the sponta- neity of instinct. Even the Topic-Sentence will soon be mas- tered, if the writer will honestly and persistently endeavor to make each paragraph turn upon some one expression. In revising sentences, scrutinize sharply every and and but; COMPOSITION-WRITING. 289 careless writers use them twice as often as they should. Also scrutinize the Historical Present (see p. 261), Pay especial attention to Unity of Sentence (see pp. 88-91). Bear in mind that the striking places in the sentence are the beginning and the end, especially the end (see pp. 81-86). Hence the exhorta- tion : — "End with words that deserve distinction." ' In general, guard against redundancy. If the working plan has been carefully prepared, there ought not to be any marked redundancy of matter. But redundancy of expression is a com- mon vice. Old or young, experienced or inexperienced, we are all given to using too many words. Hence the constant duty of learning to condense. Since condensation, however, cannot, be taught by rule, each clause and sentence must be reduced in its own way. The following device, employed with caution, may be help- ful. In rough-draughting use more words than you are en- titled to ; for example, if the number of words allowed for the whole composition is 600, use 800, or perhaps even 900. But use them, of course, with the conscious effort to avoid redun- dancy, i. e., try to say with them as much as possible. Then, in revising, you will know that there are 200 words, or 300, which must be eliminated. This will be a definite object. In revising, scrutinize every adjective and adverb, to make sure that it truly adds something to the expression. Also weigh every two terms coupled by and, to see if one or the other may not be rejected. The word very is usually super- fluous. Especially acquire the art of weeding out phrases and clauses. Thus : — As we look Into Salem House we see the system of schooling which was in use during the days when Dickens was a boy. "We see as we look in at the door the principal, holding a recitation, etc. This can be condensed, and also improved in structure : — As we look [Looking] in at the door of Salem House, we see the sys- tem of schooling in use [vogue] when Dickens was a boy. We see the principal holding a recitation, etc. His appearance had that wholesome plainness about it which at once dispelled suspicion. » Wendell, English Composition, p. 103. 19 290 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. This would be better as : — His appearance was of that wholesome plainness which at once dis- pelled [dispels] suspicion. Refasing all money consideraMon, they [Portia and Nerissa] would only accept the rings. Why comideraiion ? And only should stand after accept. Certain it is that he [Ichabod] mounted his steed with an air of despcmd- eney and rode out through the gateway crestfallen and deeded. This is great unkindness to Irving. The writer would have done done better with a simpler expression: — Certain it is that he rode away crestfallen. He was so worked up and excited that, etc. A man of mean and low principles. Her position was by no means of an enviable character. As we were on our way here we saw a man who was drunk [a drunken man]. If you look from the tower you will see the whole city. The reason why Socrates was condemned to death was because of his unpopularity. Introduction and Conclusion.— It is not easy to lay down precise rules for the employment of paragraphs of Introduc- tion and Conclusion. (See pp. 269-273). Are they always necessary ? The ordinary text-book of rhet- oric seems to teach that they are. Thus : — Every theme, when complete, consists of three parts — the Introduc- tion, the Discussion, and the Conclusion.' Another term for the Discussion is the Body of the Discourse. There are grave objections to the doctrine as thus put. The whole theory of Introduction and Conclusion, in fact, is appli- cable to the preparing of orations, public discourses, essays, books, and other matter for print, rather than to the writing of school and college compositions. 1 Williams, Composition and Rhetoric, p. 271 ; see also D. J. Hill, Elements of Rhetoric and Composition, p. 16. On the other hand, see the caustic remarks of Wendell, English Composition, p. 167, upon the impulse " to preface something in particular by at least a paragraph of nothing in particular, bearing to the real matter in hand a relation not more inherently intimate than that of the tuning of violins to a symphony." COMPOSITION- WRITING. 291 In a paper of 600 or 800 or even of 1000 words there is little or no room for a formal beginning and ending. The scholar will do better to content himself with his working plan, first draught, and revision, securing thereby the advantages of sim- plicity and directness. If the paper is to contain 1500 words or upward, especially if it is to treat of a subject at all complicated, involving some- thing more than mere narration or description, the writer should consider whether he can make his treatment really more effective by means of an introduction and a conclusion. In other words, the writer should judge for himself, and not follow blindly a mere text-book rule. In any case the Introduction should be nothing more than the Subject-formula, see p. 285, cast into a brief paragraph of forty or fifty words. For example, Irving introduces his de- scription of Christmas in England thus : — In the preceding paper I have made some general observations on the Christmas festivities of England, and am tempted to illustrate them by some anecdotes of a Christmas passed in the country ; in perusing which I would most courteously invite my reader to lay aside the aus- terity of wisdom, and to put on that genuine holiday spirit which is tolerant of folly and anxious only for amusement. The Conclusion should be a summing-up and application. Thus Irving ends his Christmas descriptions with two para- graphs. In the first he answers the supposed objection : — " To what purpose is all this; how is the world to be made wiser by this talk?" with the assertion that his object is not to instruct, but to please. This goes back directly to the paragraph of introduc- tion, quoted above. Then comes the final paragraph : — What, after all, is the mite of wisdom that I could throw into the mass of knowledge ; or how am I sure that my sagest deductions may be safe guides for the opinions of others? But in writing to amuse, if I fail, the only evil is my own disappointment. If, however, I can, by any lucky chance, in these days of evil, rub out one wrinkle from the brow of care, or beguile the heavy heart of one moment of sorrow ; if I can now and then penetrate through the gathering film of misan- thropy, prompt a benevolent view of human nature, and make my reader more in good-humor with his fellow-beings and himself, surely, surely I shall not then have written entirely in vain. 292 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIO. From Irving, as a representative author not too far above him, the ordinary student can learn at least one lesson, namely, to make introductions and conclusions direct, specific, to the point. But, since the young writer is too apt to turn them into a mere exhibition of glittering generalities and commonplace, we are justified in saying to him : If you cannot make them as they should be, omit them, altogether. Link-Paragraph.— The nature of this is discussed and illus- trated in Chapter IX. In a short composition there is scarcely room for one. But in a composition of some length, that seems to require an introduction and a conclusion, such a paragraph may be a desirable feature. By means of it the writer can sum up the details of description or of narration before passing to a different part of the subject. It is especially useful in exposi- tion and in argument, as a means of summing up phenomena pointing to a common cause, or causes operating toward a com- mon result. In addition to the specimens quoted in Chapter IX., the following, from Burke's Conoiliaiion, deserves careful study. In it Burke sums up the six causes or sources of the peculiar spirit of liberty in America, sketching briefly that spirit in its outward manifestations. The first sentence of the succeeding paragraph is also given here, to exhibit Burke's manner of passing to a fresh aspect of his subject : — Then, Sir, from these six capital sources : of Descent ; of Form of Government ; of Religion in the Northern Provinces ; of Manners in the Southern ; of Education ; of the Remoteness of Situation from the First Mover of Government ; from all these causes a tierce 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, wliich, however lawful, is not reconcilable to any ideas of Liberty, much less with theirs, has kindled this fiame that Is ready to consume us. I do not mean to commend either the Spirit in this excess, or the moral causes which produce it, etc. The Title. — The most prolific source of error among young writers is the confusion of Subject and Title. The Subject, as formulated according to the principles given at p. 285, is the main thing, and the Title is, in strictness, only an after-thought, a label or name, convenient for distinguishing one composition from another. COMPOSITION- WHITING. 293 Frequently, perhaps usually, the title is not even a complete sentence, but only a phrase, a word or two, a proper name. This is exemplified in the following list of titles, taken from about forty high-school compositions submitted in competition for the same prize : Woman's Work, Munioipal Government, The White City, Our Birds, Forestry, Our Debt to Holland. Many of the compositions betrayed the writer's inability to distinguish between subject and title. He, or she, had written upon the title, instead of first formulating the subject. Consequently the com- position was lacking in purpose, coherence and force. The papers upon The White City, as might have been expected, were the most incoherent. Everything connected in any way with the great Chicago exhibition was apparently regarded as legitimate. Yet one writer, at least, drew the line between description and expo- sition. Evidently he had formulated his purpose : I will first describe those objects which impressed me most, and then I will state what I learned fi-om them about our country's present and prospective greatness. His composition, accordingly, was methodical. The only serious defect in its structure was the absence of link-paragraphs, a feature peculiarly desirable in writing upon a subject which is without organic unity. The following directions can be safely commended to all writers, young or old: — 1. Complete your composition according to the method taught pp. 280-288. 2. When it is completed, prefix — as Title — a short phrase suggestive of the real subject. Thus, in the list cited above, the composition entitled Our Birds might have been named, more suggestively, Habits of the Undomesticated Birds of New York; the one upon Forestry might have been named T!ie Need of the Study of Forestry in America. In general, the scholar should not try to follow the lead of poets, novelists, and other imaginative writers in their choice or invention of titles. Sights and Insights may do for Mrs. Whitney's volume of travels ; Aftermath, for a volume of Long- fellow's poems; Sartor Resartm, for Carlyle's memorable essay; Prxlerita, for Ruskin's autobiography. But such titles are too fanciful for the young. The prime duty of youth is to learn to be direct and explicit. Fancy, if genuirie, will find its expres- sion soon enough in after-life. 294 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. READING AND COMPOSITION. Of late years a course of reading in English and Ameri- can literature has become a feature of the high school curriculum, and since the adoption of uniform require- ments and a uniform entrance examination in English by the colleges of the Eastern, Middle, and Western States, this feature promises to become permanent. Much may be said in its favor. It prescribes a training in liter- ary culture, as distinguished from mere linguistic and mathematical discipline. The books are to be read for their liberalizing, humanizing influence upon the spirit of the scholar. Further, this reading can be made to yield an inexhaustible supply of subjects for practice in the technique of composition. It is from this latter point of view that the reading course is here considered. Subjects taken from the school reading will be of two gen- eral kinds. In the first kind, the scholar is required merely to state, in one or more paragraphs, his recollection of what he has read ; in the other, he is asked to state his own views upon what he has read. Each kind gives to the reading a definite aim, not in the least incompatible with the scholar's enjoyment of the book read, yet quite independent of it. We are to bear in mind, moreover, that writing, like other arts, is in its earlier stages an imitative process. The young will, write well in proportion as the words and phrases and general treatment which they have studied in some great author become thoroughly familiar to them and are merged insensibly in their own forms of expres- sion. They will learn to see, to feel, to think, they will acquire a sense of action, of power, of proportion, by esti- mating these gifts and qualities in Irving or in Tennyson, in Macaulay or in Shakespeare. The following sections are not offered as a programme, as a system which must be followed rigorously. They are merely COMPOSITION-WRITING. 295 suggestions of the various ways in which books may be studied with a view to composition. Every teacher can best judge for himself how far he is able to go in any one direction with the means and opportunities at his disposal. But some study and some composition along each of the lines here indicated will be within the capacity of every school, and will, it is confidently believed, prove more helpful than the practice of assigning sub- jects unconnected with school reading. Narration and Description.— It is not always easy to draw the line sharply in ordinary writing between narra- tion and description, nor is it always advisable to make even the attempt. In the present chapter the vaguer terms account, recount, relation, relate, are employed in cases where the distinction is not to be dwelt upon. Bip Van Winkle. 1. [First twelve paragraphs in Irving.] In a paragraph of 200 words, describe the good and the bad traits in Rip's character, his relations to his wife, to his neighbors. 2. [Following eight paragraphs, from "In along ramble," to: "On waking he found himself."] In a paragraph of 150 or 200 words, recount his adventures with the mountain spirits. 3. [Next four paragraphs, from: "On waking," to: "As he ap- proached the village."] In a paragraph of 150 words, relate Rip's waking. Avoid historical present. 4. In two paragraphs, 150 words each, relate Rip's return to the vil- lage, and the puzzling evidences of change. 5. In two paragraphs, 150 words each, give an account of his recog- nition ; describe his son and his daughter. Sleepy Hollow. 1. In one paragraph, 100 words, describe Ichabod's outward appear- ance. 2. Describe his character. 3. Give, in 150 words, an account of him in the school-house. 4. Describe, in 200 words, Van Tassel's house and farm. 5. Describe, in 150 words, Ichabod on Gunpowder, 296 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 6. In two paragraphs, 150 words each, give an account of the supper at Van Tassel's. 7. In two paragraphs, 150 words each, relate the ride home: a. To the point where Ichabod meets the horseman. 6. The rest. The Angler. Since Fishing is a favorite subject for school-composition, it may be worth while to examine Irving's treatment of the sub- ject, in the Sketch-Book. 1. Number each paragraph in the margin. For convenience the beginning of each paragraph is here given : — (1) It is said (11) He had been (2) One of our (12) I found that (3) Our first essay (13) There is certainly (4) How smoothly (14) I cannot forbear (5) For my part (15) On parting (6) I recollect (16) His family (7) But, above all (17) I found him (8) In a morning's (18) How comforting (9) I thought that (19) On inquiring (10) I soon fell (20) He was a (21) I have done 2. Paragraph-Structure. (l)-(7) relate Irving's experience in America, with a knot of friends; (8)-(21), his subsequent experience in England. (5) second half; note the historical present. (9) latter part ; would the last three sentences have been better as a separate paragraph ? (10) show linking effect. (14) why is this made a separate paragraph ? (21) how does this go back to (1)? 3. Peouliar words and expressions. Note : — (1) suspect; verge of summer. (2) perplexed ; inconveniences. (3) velvet margin ; lavish unheeded beauties [compare Gray's Elegy] ; impending banks [compare overhanging banks (9)]. (4) vagrant brook. (5) tortoise [what is the usual name in the TJ. 8. ? which is correct?] ; plumping in. (8) throws itself; might let you [quotation in note]. (13) brimming along ; vagary ; transiently. (16) brabbling. COMPOSITION- WRITING. 297 The following expressions call for criticism :— (1) "I recollect studying . . . and moreover that we were all," etc.— This weakens the grammatical unity of the sentence. It might be im- proved: " I recollect that I studied . . . and moreover that we were." " As soon as the weather was auspicious and that the spring began to melt."— This use of that, instead of repeating as soon as, is old-fashioned, occurring not infrequently as late as the eighteenth century. In modern syntax we say mei'ely : " and the spring began." (15) " A hammock was slung from the ceiling, which," etc.— How might the construction be improved? (13) Kepunctuate the first sentence, using the dash. 4. Note the (intentional) vagueness of the title (see p. 292). The Angler may stand for Irving himself, for the Don (2), for the urchin (6), for the veteran (8), or for any devotee of rod and line (21). Are the titles: The Wife; The Widow and her Son; The Stage Coach; The Pride of the Village, equally vague ? 5. Compare the American brook (3, 4) with the English (9, 13) ; compare the former with Longfellow's The Brook and Bryant's The Rivulet, the latter with Tennyson's The Brook. The Angler is slight in substance ; it contains no striking scenes like those in Rip, or Sleepy Hollow. But it reveals an equal mastery of the technique of writing, and by reason of its very simplicity and quiet tone it is peculiarly available for minute dissection. The teacher might, with considerable profit, require his pupils to state the subject of each paragraph, to dis- tinguish narrative and description, and to pick out the scattered bits of exposition. Silas Mamer. 1. Paragraph-Strudure. George Eliot is not careful in her paragraphing. The following are instances. (1) In chapter iv. the sale and killing of Wildfire, Dunstan Cass's walk back to Raveloe, and his entering Marner's cottage are all told in one long paragraph, three pages in length. This should be broken up into at least three paragraphs :— a. Prom : " Keating rode up now," to : " road in which Wildfire had faUen." 298 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. b. From : " Wildfire had fallen," to : " see that it was a very handsome whip." c. Prom : " handsome whip," to : " that Marner was not there." Reconstruct the above in three paragraphs of 50, 150, and 150 words respectively. (2) In chapter ii. the fourth paragraph, beginning : " But at last," and ending: "in the gathering gloom," introduces the rise of the spirit of avarice in Marner. The next two para- graphs relate his healing of Sally Gates and its effect in inten- sifying his isolation. The seventh paragraph : " Gradually the guineas, the crowns," resumes the subject of his avarice. How might the connection between the fourth and the seventh para- graphs have been made more direct and obvious. (See p. 265.) 2. Character-Description. — The story offers many opportunities in this line. Thus : — 1. The character of Marner at Lantern Yard ; at Raveloe, before the adoption of Eppie ; after the adoption. 2. The moral weakness of Godfrey Cass, chapters iii., ix., xiii., xv. Its punishment, chapters xviii., xix. 3. Description of natural oi^ects. 1. Marner's cottage, chapters iv. and xvi. 2. The Cass mansion, chapters iii. and xvii. 4. Narration. 1. MolUe's walk and death, ch. xii. 2. Retarding effect of ch. vi. ; note the echo ("ghostly," "ghosts") from ch. vi. to ch. vii. 5. Topic Sentences. 1. In ch. 1. note the beginning of the description of Eaveloe; " And Raveloe was a village where many of the old echoes lingered." George Eliot thus gives the character of the village, before going into the details of its outward appearance. 2. In ch. vii., the middle paragraph, beginning: "This strangely novel situation," is a link. Note the sentence: "Our consciousness raxely registers the beginning." 3. In ch. ix., last paragraph, note the sentence : " Favorable Chance, I fancy, is the god." In writing upon poetry, especially upon poetry of such high order as Shakespeare's or Tennyson's, it is advisable COMPOSITION-WRITING. 299 to make one's own prose sober, plain, and explicit, — to re- produce the thought of the original, without trying to echo the peculiar style. Uerchant of Venice. 1. Describe the character of Antonio, i. 1, 3 ; ii. 8 ; Hi. 2, 3 ; iv. 1 ; V. 1. 2. Of Portia, i. 2 ; iii. 2 ; iv. 1 ; v. 1 ; note the alternation of spright- liness and seriousness. 3. Relate Bassanio's choice of casket, using the historical present. Is there any connection between his character, or profession in life, and his choice? 4. What justification has Jessica for running away, ii. 3, 5, 6 ? 5. Narrate the trick with the rings, giving every essential feature, and avoiding the historical present. Julius Csesar. 1. Account of the storm, i. 3, introducing Casca, Cicero, and Cassius, and using the historical present. 2. Account of the killing of Csesar, iii. 1, avoiding historical present. 3. Character of Brutus, i. 2 ; ii. 1 ; iii. 1 ; iii. 2 (speech) ; iv. 3 ; v. 5. 4. Character of Portia, ii. 1 ; ii. 4 ; iv. 3. 6. In what sense is Cassius " a professional politician," knowing the habits and disposition of each one of his associates and utilizing them for his own ends?i The answering of this will necessitate a careful study of aU the scenes in which he figures. Macbetb. 1. Narrate the unbroken series of Macbeth's successes, ending in the murder of Banquo ; the unbroken series of failures, beginning with the escape of Fleance. (Moulton, Shakespeare, p. 127.) 2. Account of the interviews with the witches, i. 3 ; iv. 1. How are the witches' words an ironical deception of Macbeth ? Compare v. 8, line 20. 3. Retarding effect of the porter scene, ii. 3. (Compare De Quincey, On the Knocking at the Gate in Macbeth, x. 389.) 4. Compare the storm, ii. 3, 4, with the storm in Julius Caesar. The Princess. The character of the Princess herself is too complex to be treated by any except very apt scholars. But the following, or similar, subjects are within the range of all. 1 See Moulton, Shakespeare, p. 182. In writing upon Caaslus one student made the extraordinary statement that " Cassius was a professional politician and made a paying' business of it " ! Evidently he had caught Moulton's epi- thet in some indirect way and interpreted it in the sense of " ward-beeler " or " wire-puller." 300 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. [The line-numbers refer to Rolfe's edition. Boston ; Osgood, 1885.] 1. Recount the story, i. 1-200, using the third person and avoiding the historical present. 2. Character of Psyche, ii. 91; 171-296; v. 68-107; vi. 192-277. 3. Account of the geological excursion, iii. 152-iv. 132. 4. Lady Blanche's speech, iv. 273-339. 5. The Princess's letter, v. 364-428. 6. Character of Prince Arac. 7. Character of Cyril. Olacaulay's Life of Johnson. [The page-numbers refer to Thurber, Select Essays of Macaulay. Bos- ton ; Allyn & Bacon, 1892.] 1. Sketch Johnson's personal appearance, pp. 55, 56, 97. 2. His characters and habits, pp. 56-59, 63, 69, 73, 79. 3. Sketch of the Johnson Club, p. 83. 4. Johnson's household, pp. 86, 87. 5. Account of the Dictionary, pp. 68, 69, 74, 75, 81. Studies in Paragraphing. — The advantages of gaining an insight into the mechanism of composition can scarcely be over-estimated. One learns thereby that composition is not haphazard, but methodical. One also un-learns the crude notion that writing goes by inspiration. Macaulay's Second Essay on Chatham. [The text here followed is that of 0. A. Lester. New York ; May- nard & Co. Figures not enclosed in parentheses designate the text- page ; figures enclosed in parentheses designate the paragraph-number. This paragrapli-numbering is not in the text, but has been supplied for the present purpose.] 1. Ratio of Paragraph to Page. In this first part, pp. 9-62 (=53 pp. exactly), there are 80 paragraphs in all, long and short. This ratio of 80 : 53 ex- emplifies the modern practice of making the average para- graph-length less than the page. That is, the eye rests, on the average, at least once in every page on the typographical break occasioned by paragraphing. Besides, in the text here followed nearly every page of text is shortened by footnotes. Were these removed, and the pages of full length, the page-breakings would be somewhat more numerqjife COMPOSITION-WMITING. 301 2. Long Paragraphs. By a long paragraph is here meant one that exceeds a page (= about 320 words). There are nineteen long, viz. : — (14) = pp. 17, 18 (49) = pp. 41, 42 (26) = pp. 23, 24 (52) = pp. 43, 44 (29) = pp. 25, 26 (55) = pp. 45-47 (31) = pp. 27, 28 (56) = pp. 47, 48 (33) = pp. 29, 30 (57) = pp. 48, 49 (35) = pp. 31, 32 (58) = pp. 49, 50 (39) = pp. 33, 34 (61) = pp. 51, 52 (40) = pp. 35, 36 (73) = pp. 57, 58 (46) = pp. 38-40 (76) = pp. 59, 60 (78) = pp. 60, 61 The longest is (46), relating Pitt's resignation. Of every one of these long paragraphs (in fact, of every para- graph in the whole essay) it can be confidently asserted that it observes the principle of Unity. The subject can be stated in a short sentence, round which the details are grouped effec- tively. Every student should be required to test this, by form- ulating two or three of the longer paragraphs. Thus (55) : — Party spirit revives and attacks Bute as a royal favorite. Observe that this is suggested in a topic-sentence, p. 46, line 1109 :— "He was a favorite; and favorites have always been odious in this country."' 3. Short Paragraphs. The following are distinctively short : — (2) = p. 9 (44) = p. 38 (3) = p. 10 (47) = p. 40 (7) = p. 13 (54) = p. 45 (10) = p. 15 (63) = p. 53 (16) = p. 19 (65) = p. 53 (17) = p. 19 (66) = p. 54 (18) = p. 20 (67) = p. 54 (28) =- p. 22 (70) = p. 55 (24) = p. 22 (74) = p. 58 (25) = p. 22 (75) = p. 59 (36) = p. 32 (77) = p. 60 (38) = p. 32 (79) = p. 61 (42) = p. 37 (80) = p. 62 2A 302 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. The following are evidently link-paragraphs: (3), (7), (16), (24), (36), (44), (54), (65), (75), (77), (79), (80). Each of them, by a brief retrospective or a brief prospective glance, facilitates the transition from one part of the general subject to the next. Paragraph (5), the Malebolge comparison, is quoted, p. 266; it is not distinctively short. Paragraph (80): — " We are inclined to think, on the whole, that the worst administra- tion which has governed England since the Revolution was that of George Grenville. His public acts may be classified under two heads, outrages on the liberty of the people, and outrages on the dignity of the crown." had it ended with Grenville, would have been a mere detached statement. But the second sentence, summing up in advance Grenville's blunders under two general heads, makes it a genu- ine link. The student should be required to explain the linking in sev- eral of these short paragraphs. It is also worth while to notice the alteration of long and short paragraphs. Further, the series of longs : (55), (56), (57), (58), and the three series of shorts: (16), (17), (18); (23), (24), (25) ; (65), (66), (67). 4. Paragraph-Echo ; Topic Sentence. These are some striking instances of Paragraph-Echo : — (2), " We left Pitt." (24), " Thus there was absolutely no opposition," echoes " not one of the malcontents durst lift." (40), p. 42, " Such were the views of the Duke of Bedford." (50), " The session drew towards the close." (54), " Some of these objects." (64), p. 53, " That succor." (69), p. 55, " In this step." (73), " This vaunting was premature." The opening of (68), p. 54, is interesting. The preceding paragraph, relating the system of wholesale bribery employed by Pox, ends with the sentence : — " The lowest bribe . . . was ... for two hundred pounds." (68) opens : — "Intimidation was joined with corruption." COMPOSITION-WBITINO. 303 Had Macaulay written : — With [this] corruption was joined intimidation. he would have echoed more plainly. But his purpose, doubt- less, was to make the intimidation as prominent as possible. Topic Sentences are equally conspicuous. Only a few are here noted : — (4), p. 10, " Each . . . the representative of a great principle." " Both were thrown into unnatural situations." (5), p. 11, " Each creature was transfigured into the likeness of its antagonist." " Each [party] gradually took the shape and color of its foe." (10), p. 15, "To frantic zeal succeeded sullen indifference." (26), p. 24, " Thus, during many years, the Kings of England were objects of strong personal aversion." (27), p. 24, " He [George II.] was not our countryman." (29), p. 26, " He [George III.] was emphatically a King, the anointed of heaven." Exposition and Argximent. — These are so intimately associated, not to say intermingled, in actual discussion that no attempt is made in the present chapter to keep them separate. Burke's Conciliation. This speech is a model in its exposition of general facts and principles, in close reasoning, in practical sense, in the force and purity of its expression, and, above all, in its skill in "winding into the subject like a serpent." It should be studied with minute care. Three months would not be an excessive allowance of time. The following topics merely suggest the proper method of study. [The edition here followed Is that by L. D. Syle. Boston ; Leach, Shewell, and Sanborn, 1895.] 1. Subjects for Composition. 1. Burke's statement of the motives of his speech, pp. 5-8. 2. His exposition of the material resources of the colonies, in population, commerce, agriculture, fisheries, pp. 9-19. 3. Objections to the use of force, pp. 19, 20. 4. Exposition of the character and temper of the colo- nists, pp. 21-29. 304 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. 5. Three, and only three, ways of dealing with the col- onies. Objections to the first two. Pp. 32-42. 6. Plea for deciding the whole controversy in the spirit of practical expediency, rather than as a matter of strict legal right, pp. 42-45. 7. Fundamental propositions, by the adoption of which the present dispute will be disposed of, pp. 59-68. 2. Paragraph Length. — In the structure and grouping of his paragraphs Burke is even superior to Macaulay. This speech contains 141 paragraphs in 89 pages, each page containing about 294 words. There are only 14 paragraphs which can be called long, i. e., running much over a full page, viz.: pp. 14-16; 17-19; 21-23; 23-25; 26, 27; 29-31; 43, 44; 50-52; 61-63; 66, 67; 74^76; 80, 81; 83, 84; 86-88. Not one is conspicuously long. On the other hand, short paragraphs are numerous. Many are extremely short, summing up, linking, or otherwise mark- ing some quick transition of thought. The nervous strength and directness of some of these short paragraphs may be com- pared with the sustained dignity of the longer ones. 3. Echo; Topic Sentence. — Herein also Burke is admirable. Only a few striking examples need be pointed out. Note the ending of the first paragraph : — " We are therefore called upon, as it were by a superior warning voice, again to attend to America ; to attend to the whole of it together ; and to review the subject with an unusual degree of care and calmness." This announces the general theme. Note the echo in the first sentence of the following paragraph : — " Surely it is an awful subject ; or there Is none so on this side of the grave." Because it is such an awful subject, the orator has conscien- tiously tried to master it. This is the substance of the para- graph, ending with the pointed remark : — "I really did not think it safe, or manly, to have fresh principles to seek upon every fresh mail which should arrive from America." A striking instance of repeating the topic sentence occurs in the long paragraph, pp. 74-76. Near the beginning of the paragraph, at the top of p. 75, we read : COMPOSITION-WRITING. 305 " It is besides a very great mistake to imagine that mankind follow up practically any speculative principle, either of government or of freedom, as far as it will go in argument and logical illation." Compare this with p. 76 : — " Man acts from adequate motives relative to his interest ; and not on metaphysical speculations." Webster's First Bunker HUl. Webster's oration is in the line of exposition and exhorta- tion, rather than of argument. It presupposes no more know- ledge than ought to be possessed by every American, and its general principles are few and readily grasped. Every student should be required to make an outhne of the whole, reducing the substance of each successive paragraph to a sentence. [The text here followed is that of A. J. George, Select Speeches of Daniel Webster, Boston ; Heath, 1893.] 1. Paragraph-Length. — There are 44 paragraphs in 25 pages. The long paragraphs are only three : pp. 123, 124 ; 126, 127 ; 129-131. 2. Unity and Sequence in the paragraph are carefully observed. 3. Paragraph-Echo is less evident than in Macaulay and ^urke. 4. Topic Sentences are easily recognizable. Thus the con- cluding paragraph answers the question: What is the present duty of Americans ? The answer is double : first, to build upon the foundation of independence already laid ; second, to culti- vate the spirit of union. These thoughts are expressed in the topic sentences, p. 145 : — " Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the age of improvement." and, just before the close : — " Let our object be, Our ConNTRY, our Whole Country, and noth- ing BUT OUR Country." 5. LinkrParagraplis.—M.&.ny of the short paragraphs are noticeable for their linking effect. E. g., the first half of p. 125 sums up the material changes in America since 1775; the remainder of the page, a separate paragraph, touches upon the material changes in Europe ; the 20 306 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. first paragraph of p. 126 refers to the spiritual progress of both continents. Then comes the linlc, in which the orator recalls his hearers to the actual scene before them, and reminds them of the circumstance that they have now, in their very midst, survivors of the battle itself. This leads on to the well-known apostrophe in the next paragraph : " Venerable Men !" Equally noticeable is the paragraph near the bottom of p. 133. After having stated, in two paragraphs, the impressions created throughout the world by the news of the battle of Bunker Hill, the orator introduces the link : — " Information of these events, circulating throughout the world, at length reached the ears of one who now hears me. He has not forgot- ten the emotion which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the name of Warren, excited in his youthful breast." This leads on to the apostrophe to Lafayette, in the next para- graph : — " Sir, we are assembled to commemorate," etc. The change here from the third person, he, his, to the second person is little less daring than the like change in the much- cited apostrophe to Warren. Which passage in the oration is the best, would be an idle" question. But certainly the paragraph pp. 123, 124 is unsur- passed for its skilful blending of exposition and feeling. The orator confronts the question : What is, after all, the real object, the real good, of the monument? He answers, that the erec- tion of such a monument is at once a high privilege and a sacred duty. The topic sentence, top of p. 124 : — " We rear a memorial of our conviction of that unmeasured benefit which has been conferred on our own land, and of the happy influences which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests of mankind." expresses the ruling thought of the paragraph. But this is immediately followed by the sentence : — " We come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must forever be dear to us and our posterity." as the concomitant expression of the ruling sentiment. CflAPTER XI. ORATORY AND DEBATE. To treat this subject adequately would involve an ex- amination of argumentative rhetoric, as set forth in the works of Aristotle and his successors, ancient and modern. In the present chapter nothing is attempted beyond in- dicating a few general features, such as will be of practical service to the ordinary student. ORATORY. Definition. — An oration may be defined as a spoken discourse, delivered by a certain person, before a certain audience, upon a certain occasion, for the attainment of a definite object. The following remarks are intended to supplement pp. 233-237. An oration may embody all the forms of discourse, i. e., narration, description, exposition, and argument. But the narrative and descriptive passages ' will — almost of neces- sity — be brief, and subordinate to the main object, which is Persuasion. The term persuade is here used in a broad sense ; the orator exerts himself to induce his hearers to act in a certain way, or to accept his views upon a certain ^ Highly instructive specimens of narration and description, strictly subor- dinate to the main object, persuasion, are to be found in Webster's Defence of the Kennistam and The Murder of Captain Joseph White. In the former, the inci- dents connected with the alleged robbery are told yery effectively. In the latter, the description of the murder-scene is dramatic in its vividness. 307 308 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. subject, and his chief means to this end are exposition and argument. Varieties. — There are three varieties of oration: the Legislative (called by the Romans deliberativm, by the Greeks au/i^ouXsuTix6'!) • the Judicial (forensis, dixavudi) j the Demonstrative (demonstrativus, l^ri^ewrixd?). The first two terms almost explain themselves. In a legisla- tive oration, also called a deliberative, the speaker addresses a law-making body, with the object of inducing it to vote for or against a proposed measure. In a judicial, also called a forensic oration, the speaker attacks or defends a certain person, or group of persons, in a trial at law. In demonstrative oratory, the speaker holds up to the audience a certain person, or a cer- tain mode of action, for admiration and imitation. A demon- strative oration is also called a eulogy, or panegyric. All three kinds are well represented in the speeches of Webster.' The Defence of the Kennistons, the Murder of Captain Joseph White, and the Dartmouth College Case are judicial. The Reply to Hayne, The Constitution not a Com- pact between Sovereign States, and the so-called Saratoga speech are legislative. The last named, it is true, was not addressed to a law-making body, but to a mass-meeting. Yet its object was to influence legislation indirectly, by creating a strong public opinion in favor of certain meas- ures. The First Settlement of New England, the Bunker Hill Monument, and the Eulogy on Mr. Justice Story are demon- strative. Pulpit Oratory. — The oratory of the Christian pulpit is to be classified as demonstrative. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries sermons were, it is true, much more argumentative than at present. The aim of the preacher seemed to be to convince logically his hearers of the truth of Christianity in general, or of the truth of some one doc- trine in particular. Such argumentation, however, is best reserved for printed polemical treatises, which can be stud- 1 A. J. George, Select Speeclies oj DaniM Wfhuier. Boston ; Heath, 1893. ORATORY AND DEBATE. 309 ied at the reader's leisure. The present practice of pulpit orators is rather to expound the doctrines of the Old and New Testaments, to make clear what the founders of the Mosaic and Christian dispensations really intended, and to hold up their lives for zealous imitation. General Principles. — From the nature itself of an ora- tion may be deduced certain general principles : — 1. Being limited to a certain occasion, the oration must be concise. Even where no time-limit is imposed, by law or by custom, the orator cannot afford to weary his hearers' patience. 2. On the other hand, being a spoken discourse, the oration must be, above all tilings, clear. The hearer, un- like a reader, has not the opportunity of refreshing his recollection of previous statements by turning back to a printed page. Hence it is the speaker's duty to put things in such a way that the hearer cannot possibly for- get them. These two requirements, conciseness and clearness, are to be harmonized only by securing the most perfect struc- tural unity and simplicity. The rule of unity prescribes that everything not bearing directly upon the issue should be rigorously avoided. Simplicity is secured by avoiding abrupt transitions from one section of the subject to another and by restrict- ing the discourse to a few fundamental principles and primary sentiments. These principles and sentiments should be stated and re-stated more than once, and should be illustrated and enforced in a great variety of ways. In this respect the orator differs obviously from the writer ; for example, from the essayist. The latter, relying upon the reader's ability, not only to meditate at leisure, but to turn back from any page to the preceding pages, may con- tent himself with stating his points one by one, in due order with very little illustration or enforcement, and with- out any repetition. May, be it observed, for, even in the 310 COMPOSITION AND -RHETORIC. most formal essay, a moderate amount of amplification and recapitulation is desirable. Further, the essayist is at liberty to indulge in nice discriminations of thought and delicate shades of feeling.' Personality. — Behind and above all rules is the per- sonality of the orator. It is this personal element which constitutes the peculiar charm of oratory, and also its mysterious power. The old saying, that the poet is born, not made, is applicable to the orator as well. Or perhaps it would be safer to say that the orator is both born and made. That special gift which we call eloquence is de- veloped, and made practically serviceable, only by dint of persistent self-training. The biography of every orator who has made a lasting mark in the affairs of his people tells pretty much the same tale of patient study and con- centration of purpose. Earnestness and Reserve Force. — In genuine oratory two features are so prominent as to call for special mention. The one is earnestness, sincerity of conviction, a fervor of belief that imparts itself to the hearer. This is the feature brought out by Webster himself in his famous exposition of eloquence, pp. 244, 245. The other is reserve force. Every great master of utterance, written or spoken, poetry or prose, makes upon his hearers or readers, it is true, the impression of knowing more than he sees fit to tell, of holding himself in reserve for a still greater effort if need be. But the orator is by eminence the man of reserve force. He seems to create in his hearers a feeling of con- fidence that he is able to meet any emergency out of his unexpended resources. Nature ,of Persuasion. — The aim of the orator is to 1 In many law cases the statements of fact and of legal principle are neces- sarily long and complicated. But the lawyer has two circumstances in his favor : the Court is presumed to bo able to follow the most involved train of reasoning ; evidence is now reported in short-hand and type-written. In con- gressional and parliamentary debates upon questions involving elaborate statistics, these latter may be printed. OBATOBY AND DEBATE. 311 persuade. But persuasion can scarcely be defined, for the reason that it consists of two processes seemingly incon- gruous, an intellectual and an emotional. The orator appeals to our understanding with arguments; but he applies these arguments in a manner to awaken our sym- pathies. To argue without awakening sympathy may be correct reasoning, but is not oratory ; to arouse passion and prejudice without resort to argument is demagogism. Mixed Questions. — Hence, upon questions which are determined by the rules of the mere understanding, we are not to expect oratory, e. g., upon questions of science. Oratory is in place only in human affairs, in so-called " mixed questions," where there are two sides, both of which are plausible, and the comparative merits of which can be tested only by Testimony, Authority, and Analogy. Law-Cases. — In many law-cases, e. g., suits for the pos- session of real property, for breaches of commercial con- tract, and the like, there is no room for an appeal to the feelings, hence there can be no genuine oratory. The lawyer advances merely technical arguments, and submits them practically to the court, i. e-, to a man or a body of men supposed to be divested, for this purpose, of all emo- tion. Yet even in very technical law an emotional appeal is possible. A celebrated instance is Webster's speech in the Dartmouth College Case. After going through all the intricacies of the law upon private corporations, he ended with the following peroration, the most remarkable ever delivered in a purely civil suit involving no personal rights : — This, sir, is my case. It is the case, not merely of that humble in- stitution, it is the case of every college in the land. It is more. It is the case of every eleemosynary institution throughout onr country — of all those great charities formed by the piety of our ancestors, to alle- viate human misery, and scatter blessings along the pathway of life. It is more ! It is, in' some sense, the case of every man among us who has property, of which he may be stripped, for the question is simply this : Shall our State legislatures be allowed to take that whic;h is not their 312 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. own, to turn it from its original use, and apply it to such ends or pur- poses as they in their discretion shall see fit? Sir, you may destroy this little institution ; it is weak ; it is in your hands ! I know it is one of the lesser lights in the literary horizon of our country. You may put it out. But, if you do so, you must carry through your work ! You must extinguish, one after another, all those greater lights of science, which, for more than a century, have thrown their radiance over our land ! It is, sir, as I have said, a small college, and yet there are those who love it. At this point, struggling with emotion, his eyes filled with tears, he spoke in broken words for a few minutes of his own connection with Dartmouth. Court and spectators hung upon the words, as if spell-bound. Then, recovering his composure and speaking in his usual deep rich voice, he uttered the final sentence : — Sir, I know not how others may feel [glancing at the opponents of the college before him], but for myself, when I see my Alma Mater sur- rounded, like Csesar, in the senate house, by those who are reiterating stab after stab, I would not, for this right hand, have her turn to me, and say, Et tu quogue, mi fili ! And thou too, my son ! Introduction and Conclusion. — In oratory special at- tention should be paid to the introduction (exordium) 9,nd the conclusion (peroration) ; the practical objections mentioned at p. 290 do not apply here. By means of a skilful introduction the orator defines the issue clearly and succinctly, or he creates provisionally some sentiment in favor of his cause. The opening para- graph of Webster's Defence of the Kennistons is an ingenious enumeration of the circumstances which make the trial a peculiar hardship for his clients. Though quite unobtru- sive, the introduction is really a subtle appeal to the com- passion of the jury. To be noted is the repetition of the construction, " They have lost," (see p. 253). In the opening paragraph of his reply to Calhoun ( The Constitution not a Compact), Webster recalls the Senate from the excitement caused by Calhoun's tone of wrath to a more sober and practical frame of mind : — OMATORY AND DEBATE. 313 Mr. President,— The gentleman from South Carolina has ailnionished us to be mindful of the opinion of those who shall come after us. We must take our chance, Sir, as to the light in which posterity will regard us. I do not decline its judgment, nor withhold myself from its scrutiny. Feeling that I am performing my public duty with singleness of heai-t and to the best of my ability, I fearlessly trust myself to the country, now and hereafter, and leave both my motives and my character to its decision. The opening of the Saratoga speech is a sketch of the situation, in clear bold lines : — We are, my friends, in the midst of a great movement of the people. That a revolution in public sentiment on some important questions of public policy has begun, and is in progress, it is vain to attempt to cdn- ceal, and folly to deny, etc. The peroration in the Dartmouth College case is quoted at p. 311. More generally known is the peroration of the Reply to Hayne : — I have not allowed myself. Sir, to look beyond the Union to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess behind. ending with the memorable outburst : — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable ! Highly skilful, from the legal point of view, is the sum- ming up in the Defence of the Kennistons : — If the jury are satisfied that there is the highest improbability that these persons could have had any previous knowledge of Goodridge, or been concerned in any previous concert to rob him ; if their conduct that evening and the next day was marked by no circumstances of sus- picion ; if from that moment until their arrest nothing appeared against them ; if they neither passed money, nor are found to have had money ; if the manner of the search of their house, and the circumstances at- tending it, excite strong suspicions of unfair and fraudulent practices ; if, in the hour of their utmost peril, no promises of safety could draw from the defendants any confession affecting themselves or others, it will be for the jury to say whether they can pronounce them guilty. It will be noted that Webster does not end : — it will be for the jury to pronounce them innocent. That would have been a direction, a charge to the jury ; 2B 314 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. and Webster was too dexterous a pleader to usurp the office of judge. He merely affects to ask the jury whether they can, in honor and conscience, really believe the de- fendants to be guilty. Demonstrative Oratory in Particular. — Comparatively few students and readers are members of the legal pro- fession, or of any legislative body. The greater number of readers are directly interested only in demonstrative oratory. It is needful, therefore, to say a few words upon this branch in particular. In demonstrative oratory there is little or no argument. The orator is not trying to prove anything, or to urge his hearers to vote for a certain measure. He is rather trying to interest them in a certain subject and thereby to influ- ence their general conduct. Hence the substance of the discourse is exposition rather than argument; but it is exposition made per- suasive. An admirable specimen is Webster's Banker Hill Oration. The orator does not prove anything, not even the right of the Colonies to rebel ; all such matters are taken for granted. The oration is in the main a contrast between the present and the past, with the lessons to be drawn from the contrast. The past is recalled in its most striking aspects; the survivors of the battle, of the revolutionary army, Warren, and Lafayette are in turn commemorated. The present is next presented, with its outlook of hope, and also with its darker side. The policy of sober self-government in America is contrasted with oppres- sion and frantic rebellion elsewhere. In conclusion, the orator calls upon his hearers to " indulge an honest exultation " in the conviction of the benefits which the example of the United States is likely to produce. Great privileges impose great obligations. Upon every American rests a two-fold obligation : to augment the material prosperity of the country; to maintain the country in its integrity (see p. 306). Although much more than half a century has passed since the oration was delivered, its lessons are still fresh. ORATORY AND DEBATE. 315 No thoughtful person can read Webster's simple lucid exposition of the significance of the occasion and of the event commemorated by it, without feeling his heart pro- foundly stirred, without feeling a stronger, more definite impulse to serve his country better. This is the persuasion of oratory. DBBATB. Definition. — Any discussion in which opposite sides of a question, theoretical or practical, are presented, is called a debate. Thus we speak of debates in Congress, or in Parliament. But in the narrower and more rhetorical sense of the term, a debate is the formal discussion of a proposition, the proposition being carefully formulated, and the two sides, called the affirmative and the negative, being presented alternately by speakers speaking in a pre- scribed order. Frequently, perhaps usually, the audience, or a select committee representing the audience, decides by vote that one of the two sides has won the debate. A debate is, then, a literary exercise of an argumentative and persuasive character. In school and college training it has its value. It teaches the debater to look into questions more closely than he otherwise might, to present his views in an orderly manner, and to meet opposing views. The time of each speech being limited to a certain number of minutes, the debater must acquire the gift of speaking to the point. He must also acquire the gift of self-possession, of detecting any weakness in the opposite side and turning it to account. In order that a debate may be profitable, it should be fairly stated and the burden of proof determined. Proposition ; Burden of Proof— The burden of proof is really involved in the proposition ; as soon as the latter is properly formulated, the former can be deduced as a matter of course. In general, a proposition should be drawn up as an as- sertion in the affirmative, and the wording of it will depend upon the presumption involved. 316 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIC. For example, the best manner of filling^ the office of judge may be submitted as a subject of debate, whether the judge should be elected, or appointed. How, then, is the proposition to be drawn up and the burden of proof to be determined? Bearing in mind the general truth that there is always a presumption in favor of what is, and against what is not, we can reason thus. Every change is an affirmation which must be sustained. In a state in which the judges are elected, e. g., in New York, the change would consist in substituting appointment for election. Consequently, in New York, the proposition is to be drawn up in this form : — The judges of this state ought to be appointed. The burden of proof rests naturally with the affirmative. But. in a state in which the judges are appointed, the proposition should read : — Tlie judges of this state ought to be elected. Another example, still clearer, is this. Very recently the manner of choosing United States senators has become a popular question : Should they be elected by the people of the respective states in direct vote ? Since the Consti- tution prescribes the present method of election, which can be changed only by means of a constitutional amend- ment, it is clear that the proposition must be formulated : A senator ought to be elected by the direct vote of the people of the state. A statement in alternative form is not a proposition, and therefore is not a proper subject of debate. Thus : Whether a country life is preferable to a city life. nor a statement in the form of a question. Thus : — Are the pleasures of hope more beneficial than those of memory ? Thus worded, neither one of the above statements pre- sents a clearly distinguished affirmative and negative side. OSATOBY AND DEBATE. 317 Hence a debater speaking in favor of a country life, or of the pleasures of hope, would not know whether the bur- den of proof rested on him or on his opponent. The question of country life versus city life, or of hope versus memory, is one in which there is no general pre- sumption. Residents of a city, it is true, might prefer their mode of life ; on the other hand, farmers might pre- fer theirs. But such preferences can scarcely be called general presumptions. Where there is no presumption, the issue can be deter- mined only by agreement. The debaters must agree before- hand among themselves that one form or the other shall be presented as the affirmative. Thus: — A country life is preferable to a city life, or the opposite : — > A city life is preferable to a country life. In trials at law the burden of proof is a complicated matter, involving many technical rules. In ordinary de- bate, however, the burden of proof amounts practically to this, that those holding the affirmative should advance a certain body of argument which those on the negative are unable to answer. Reversing the statement, we may say that the debaters on the negative are not bound to do anything more than meet the arguments of the affirmative. But since they have the right, and usually avail them- selves of it, to advance arguments that are somewhat more than a mere answer, it is the custom, where there are sev- eral debaters on each side, to let the affirmative have the last word. Terms should be Defined. — The several terms of the proposition should be clearly understood, and the issue drawn as sharply as possible. Thus, to take for illustra- tion tbe questions discussed at p. 316, who are included in the term judges? All holders of a judicial office, or only those of a certain grade ? What is a country life ? Does 318 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. it mean the farmer's life, pure and simple, or may it include life in a small country town? The term preferable also would need careful limitation. Has it the sense of being conducive to physical well-being, or to intellectual, or to moral, or to pecuniary? Too often the subjects of debate are improperly stated. They are not drawn up in the form of an affirmative proposition. And even when in the affirmative, they are worded too concisely. The framers of a debatable propo- sition are apt to treat it as if it were an axiom, the briefer the better. If a single sentence would be too long and involved, the necessary limitations might be introduced in two or three independent sentences. Judging a Debate. — lii judging the merits of a debate, the audience should be governed solely by what the speakers have said, and not by the question itself An ideal question would be one so nicely balanced as appa- rently not to lean to either side. But very few questions are thus ideal. One side has usually some slight prepon- derance, or appeals' to the interests and prejudices of the audience. Those who argue for this side have, therefore, a slight advantage. This the audience should disregard, as far as it can. The question for it to decide is not, which of the two sides of the proposition is in itself the stronger, but which side has been better presented by its advocates. In other words, not the proposition itself is to be judged, but the treatment of it. CHAPTER XII. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. The following sketch is merely an attempt to present the more obvious phenomena and agencies in the growth of our language from the earliest recorded remains down to the pres- ent day. For a fuller and more systematic treatment of this interesting subject, the reader is referred to O. F. Emerson, The History of the EngUsh Language, New York ; Macmillan, 1894. The subject is treated from a slightly different point of view in T. R. Lounsbury, History of the English Language, revised edition. New York; Holt, 1894. The works by W. W. Skeat, Principles of English Etymology, Oxford ; CHarendon Press. First Series, 1887 ; Second Series, 1891, offer an extremely valuable collection of data. The First Series (" Native Element ") is somewhat diffi- cult for any one unversed in technical philological methods. The Second Series (" Foreign Element ") is more easily followed by the general reader. 1. Before the Norman Conquest. Britains and Romans. — The language known to us by the name of English was not indigenous to the island of England, but was transplanted thither in the fourth and fifth centuries of the Christian era. When the island was invaded by the Romans under Julius Caesar, 55 b. c, it was occupied by various tribes closely allied in blood and language. These tribes are commonly designated by the generic name of Britains, and their language is called British. The language was 319 320 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. one of a family known to philologists as Keltic. Living representatives of the Keltic family are the modern Gaelic of Ireland (and the Scotch Highlands), Welsh, and the Armorican (or Breton) of the French province of Brittany. Julius Caesar did not make any serious effort to con- quer the island. The real conquest was begun a century later, 43 A. d., under Claudius, and was practically com- plete by the end of the first century. During the second, third, and fourth centuries, Britain, i. e., that part of the island now known as England proper, was in every sense a Roman military province. But the Highlands of Scot- land were never thoroughly Romanized ; Wales also was in a large measure independent. Roman law, Roman civil and military administration, prevailed throughout Britain. But whether the Latin language became a vernacular, or was used only by the Roman officials and their families and immediate de- pendents, is a point upon which we have not sufficient information. Early in the fifth century the great Roman empire was threatened at many points on the Continent, and therefore Britain, merely an outlying and comparatively unimport- ant province, was abandoned. The English. — Concerning the coming of the English and their conquest of the island, our knowledge, despite the acutest research of modern times, is still meagre and vague. There are grounds for believing that the English began to gain a foothold along the eastern coast in the latter half of the fourth century. Throughout the fifth century they came in increasing numbers, pushing their conquests up the valleys of the Thames, Trent, Humber, and Tyne. By the year 500 a. d., eastern, central, and southern Britain was in their possession. By the year 600 the whole country, as far north as the Frith of Forth and as far west as Wales and Cornwall, was substantially English. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 321 The native British were either killed in war or reduced to slavery. The British language became extinct.' The Christian church, which had been established as an offshoot of the church in Gaul, was crushed by the conquerors, who were still heathen. The reconversion of the land and people to Christianity, was effected in the seventh century, by Keltic missionaries from Ireland and Scotland and by Roman Catholic missionaries from Rome and Franco-Gallia. Anglo-Saxon Dialects. — The new conquerors of Britain were a homogeneous folk, speaking one language, but with dialectal differences. They came from the countries now known as Jutland, Sleswick, Holstein, and the Frisian coast as far south as modern Holland. They are usually divided into three tribes : Jutes, Angles, and Saxons. But the tribal differences among them must have been very slight. As to the generic name to be given to the language in this period, there is some divergence of usage among scholars. The older school of philologists, represented by Grimm, Grein, Kemble, Thorpe, etc., used the term Anglo-Saxon, as expressive of the leading tribal elements, the Angles and the Saxons (or West Saxons, in distinction from the Saxons on the Continent, east of the lower Rhine). The younger school in the main pre- fers the term Old English ; more precisely. Oldest English. Each term has its advantages. For literary, historical, legal, political discussions. Oldest English is preferable. But in purely linguistic matters the term Anglo-Saxon, although an inelegant hybrid, offers certain advantages. There are three leading dialects : West-Saxon (or Wessex), Mercian (or Midland), and Northumbrian. The territory of Wessex was for the most part south of the Thames; that of Mercian, between the Thames and the Humber ; that of North- umbrian extended from the Humber into the Scottish Low- lands. The differences still survive in the three chief groups of modem English dialects, the Southern, the Midland, and the, ' According to one theory, the Armorican of Brittany is the lineal descend- ant of the ancient British, brought thither by refugees from Britain in this period. 21 322 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. Northern. Our modern literary English, it may be here ob- served, is an offshoot of the Mercian-Midland. Written Remains of the Language ; Its Relations. — The written remains of the language before the Norman Conquest are very full. They begin about the year 700, if not earlier. They consist of inscriptions, glossaries, charters (wills and conveyances of land), laws secular and ecclesiastical, poetry (some heathen, see Beowulf, p. 198, but chiefly Christian), translations of the Gospels and the Heptateuch, translations of historical works, lives of the saints, treatises upon Christian doctrine, medical treatises (according to the crude medieval conception of medical practice), a chronicle of English history, and many other writings too heterogeneous to be readily classified. From these remains have been determined the gram- matical structure of the language, its range of vocabulary, and its relations to other kindred languages. Oldest English (Anglo-Saxon) is a member of the family of languages called by the philologist Germanic or Gen- eral Teutonic. In particular, it is a form of Low (or North) German, in distinction from High (or South) Ger- man. Its closest affinities are with Frisian (old and modern), with Old Saxon (spoken east of the lower Rhine in the eighth and ninth centuries), and with the modern Plati-Dutsch. It is also closely connected with modern Dutch (Holland). Its affinities with Scandinavian speech (Danish, Swedish, etc.), although clearly marked, are less direct. The student must be on his guard against one misconception, namely, that English is an offshoot of the language which we usually call German. This literary and official German, the language taught in our schools, the language of Lessing, Goethe, ■Schiller, is High or South German. To speak more accurately, it is Midland German ; at any rate, it is not Low German. Whereas English is, in every sense, a form of Low German speech. Speaking figuratively, we might call English and HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 323 literaiy German first cousins, perhaps only second cousins. Both are descended from a remote common ancestor. The most striking feature of High German is its system of " shifted " consonants. Thus : for the th sound we find in High German d; for d we find t; for t we find s or s (pronounce ts). Thus, Enghsh thou is German du; EngHsh deed is German tat; English to is German sni. This " shifting " of th to d, d to t,t to s, z, took place on the Continent after the fifth century, i.e., after the Jides, Angles, and West Saxons had migrated to England. The English sounds, accordingly, represent the earlier form of Gen- eral Teutonic pronunciation. It is the High German sounds which are changed. Grammatical Features. — Oldest English, unlike our modern speech, was a distinctively inflectional language, i. e., it marked grammatical relations less by word-order and more by changes in the forms of words. Most of these changes, but not all, were in the nature of syllables of declension and conjugation. In its noun-declension the language distinguished at least five general classes, also three (grammatical) genders, and four cases. As a specimen of declension we may take the masculine noun hring, "ring;" nom. ace. hring, gen. hringes, dat. hrinffe; pi. nom. ace. hringas, gen. hringa, dat. hringum. Attention is called to the vowels e, a, u, in the declension-syllables. In conjugation there were two general classes of verbs, the strong and the weak. The strong are sufficiently illustrated by the modern mig, sang, sung; or, in another variety, by fall, fell, fallen. The weak are illustrated by the modern hve, loved, loved. Adjectives were declined as fully as nouns, and with a still greater variety of termination. Our modern speech has com- pletely discarded the adjective declension ; but a trace survives in Chaucer's phrase "your aller cost," where "aller" is the re- mains of an old genitive plural, = " of all of you," and in Shakespeare's " alderhefest," where " alder" is a corruption of " aller," = " dearest of all;" compare the modern German allerliebsl. Even before the Norman Conquest the language was pro- 324 COMPOSITION AND BHETORIC. gressing toward simplicity and uniformity. There was a ten- dency to change -m to -n and even to drop the -n altogether, to conform feminine nouns and neuters to the masculine declen- sion, to confound e, a, o, u in syllables of inflection, and even to reduce all four vowels to an obscure e sound. Borrowings from Latin and Danish. — During this period the language was subjected to two foreign influ- ences worthy of note : the one was Latin, and the other was Danish. Not a few Latin words were borrowed, chiefly words used in the doctrine and* ritual of the Roman Catholic church,^ e. g., altar, creed, deacon, font, pall, temple, mass, min- ster, monk, nun, etc. ; also some names of plants and ani- mals, as pea, pear, pepper, palm, capon, lobster, trout, etc., and some miscellaneous names, as copper, dish, mill, pillow, etc. ; even some verbal forms, as offer, spend, shrive, etc. The borrowings from Danish ^ comprise nouns, adjectives, and verbs ; many of these have become the most familiar words of every-day speecli, e. g., hustings, husband, knife, awe (see p. 334), wrong, to call, to crave, to take. But ill the main the language kept itself free from foreign influences and pursued its own course. The homily-writers and translators of the tenth and eleventh centuries, e. g., Aelfric, abbot of Ensham, who lived from about 955 to about 1025, the most voluminous writer of the period, had no difficulty in ex- pounding the most abstruse points in the Athanasian creed, in the theory of the sacraments, and the like, by means of native ' A few old Roman words, it is believed, were brought by the Angles and Saxons in their migration from the Continent. It is also possible that some ecclesiastical Latin words were borrowed in England from the Keltic Chris- tians (British or Irish, see p. 321), rather than from Rome direct. The termina- tion -caster, -Chester, Latin castra, in place-names, must be a borrowing from the Roman British. 2 The Danes began plundering the shores of England in the ninth century. In the tenth they settled in such numbers along the coast of the eastern coun- ties that this portion of the country was named the Dane-lagh. In the first half of the eleventh century Cnut the Great even styled himself over-lord of England. The laws which he enacted are still extant in an Old English version. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 325 terms coined for the purpose. These purely English terms are fully as clear and precise as the Latin terms, unity, trinity, incar- nation, procession (of the Holy Ghost), which later Englishmen have substituted for them. No Literary Standard. — In one respect the language was deficient : there was no literary standard, no literary centre. The earliest literature, it is believed, took its rise in Nor- thumbria; subsequently Mercia was in the ascendency; still later, AVessex. But neither the language of Northum- bria (York, Durham) nor the language of Mercia (Worces- ter) nor the language of Wessex (Winchester) ' was ever acknowledged to be a standard to which all educated Englishmen must conform. Had the Normans not ef- fected their conquest in the latter half of the eleventh century, it is at least possible that the language of Wessex would have become in time the standard, and that England would have had in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries a medieval " classic " English literature like that of Middle High German under the Swabian emperors. But the landing of Duke William, in 1066, put an end to all such possibilities. 2. From the Norman Conquest to Chaucer. Gradual Disintegration.— The direct effects of the Con- quest upon the English language have usually been mis- understood and greatly exaggerated. From the ordinary text-books of history and literature one gets the impression that the language became immediately disintegrated and permeated with Norman-French words. But the facts are wholly opposed to such a view. The jiative language and the French spoken by the Normans, who at no time constituted more than a tenth of the population, kept on side by side for a time without much intermingling. When at last the native language became permeated with French ' The Kentish dialect, represented by the venerable and powerful see of Can- terbury, was closely akin to Wessex. 2 C 326 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIC. words, the result was due in part to causes quite inde- pendent of and later than the Conquest. The direct effect of the Conquest was this. The leading positions in church and state were occupied by Normans. Natives speaking only English became, of necessity, an inferior class. Some of them might, indeed, attain to the dignity of town bailiff or village priest. But the bulk of the population was illiterate, and the language became, to use a technical term, a " rustic " speech. Grammatical niceties were disregarded. The tendency, already noted at p. 324, to reduce a, o, u in termination-syllables to ob- scure e, and even to slough off these termination-syllables altogether, became irresistible. Distinction of (grammati- cal) gender was dropped, the declension classes were merged in one (with an occasional variety), and the con- jugations were simplified and normalized. In less than two centuries the language, still quite free from foreign admixture, had almost ceased to be an inflectional lan- guage and had assumed most of the characteristics of our modern speech. Thus the Ormulum, written about 1200, in the Midland dialect, differs but slightly from English of to-day in point of grammar. The chief difference is one of vocabulary: in the Ormulum many native words are retained which have been supplanted, since 1200, by French or Latin.' Multiplicity of Dialects. — Another phenomenon of the period is the multiplicity of dialects. Before the Norman Conquest there were three leading dialects. After the Conquest these three are represented by a variety of sub- dialects, the dividing lines of which are not always clear. This multiplicity resulted from the loss of all centres of literary influence. In the olden time Canterbury, Win- chester, Worcester, York, Durham, perhaps Peterborough, had been at least provincial standards of correct usage. 1 There are also not a few Danish words in the Ormulum ; most of these, too, have passed away. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 327 But these towns had declined in influence, and London, which was eventually to become the all-powerful centre of the new English, was only slowly coming to the front. Consequently each petty section spoke its own speech without regard to its neighbors, and each writer wrote in the speech of his section. Precisely when the preponderance of London began to assert itself, and how it happened that the language of the new Lon- don was Midland rather than Southern, these are points upon which we are not fully enlightened. But we shall scarcely err seriously, if we hold that by the year 1300 London English was in the lead. 3. The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries. London Standard; French Borrowings. — The exact year of Chaucer's birth is not known. Probably it was 1340, certainly not many years before. By that time the supremacy of London English was unquestioned. The young poet, accordingly, as a Londoner by birth and a follower of the brilliant court of the Edwards, enjoyed the inestimable advantage of speaking and writing the standard language. Compared with him, other poets of the period, Gower perhaps excepted, seem more or less provincial. Chaucer's language, apart from certain archa- isms of pronunciation, has for us five centuries later nothing uncouth. It was not alone the rare poetic gifts of Chaucer and his contemporaries that made the fourteenth century memor- able. The century set the fashion in word-borrowing. Although subsequent centuries have performed greater feats in the way of borrowing, the century of Chaucer and Gower gave to our language its peculiar bent in this direc- tion. French medieval literature was then at the height of its supremacy over Europe. In all branches of art and knowledge French terms were introduced freely, supplant- ing the native terms. The language became, at least in 328 COMPOSITION AND RHETOBIO. the color of its vocabulary, Romance rather than Ger- manic. To test the assertion we need only read from twenty to thirty pages of Chaucer. We shall find the poet's Romance vocabulary quite familiar, seldom requir- ing definition ; whereas the words and phrases which do require definition are nearly always native expressions, still current in the fourteenth century, but now obsolete. Also many Latin words were introduced, either directly or through the medium of French. Chaucer's Grammar and Pronunciation. — The gram- matical structure of Chaucer's language is so like our own that the few points of diff'erence may be ignored here. In truth, the language is almost as fresh, as direct and intel- ligible to us as it was to the Londoner of 1400. But in one respect, certainly, we must be on our guard. The pronunciation of the fourteenth century retained many features which have since been radically changed. To mention them all would not be possible in this place. Only three classes will be briefly touched upon. 1. The long vowels *, 5, u, were still pronounced as thej'' had been in Oldest English. Namely, i had the sound of our ee in seen; o, oo, had the sound of our o in bone; u had the sound of our oo in soon. Put negatively, ^ had not been diph thonged into ai; u (often written ou) had not been diphthonged into au. Thus, UJ, our modern life, was spoken like our modern leaf ; soun, our modern sound, was spoken like our modern soon. 2. The final -e was sounded in many places where it is now silent. Thus note : wyde, perles, whyte, clothes, gemmes, delyfe, in the Chaucer extract, p. 175. This sounding of e is indispensable for the scansion of Chaucer's poetry. 3. Many French words retained the- Romance accentua- tion upon the end of the word, e. g., vicious, subjeccioun, Septemtrioun, p. 175. The Fifteenth Century. — This is less interesting to the student of literature than the fourteenth ; but to the stu- HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 329 dent of language it is fully as important. During this century of political disturbance (the War of the Roses) the language was stripped of its few lingering inflectional syllables and reduced to its present comparatively unin- flectional structure. When Henry VII. made himself king, 1485, English grammar was on its present basis. The vocabulary was in the main that of the age of Chaucer, although some more words had been borrowed from French and Latin. 4. From the Sixteenth. Century to the Present Day. The Sixteenth Centiiry. — In most respects the six- teenth century was profoundly significant for modern English. Under the Tudor sovereigns England was sub- jected to several influences : the maritime discoveries of Da Gama, Columbus, and Magellan ; the revival of classi- cal learning; the Protestant Reformation. The efi'ect of these influences upon English character is indicated at p. 206. The effect upon the vocabulary was no less marked. Words were introduced from the Spanish and Portuguese, also — through these languages — from the Orient and from the Indian dialects of North and South America. Italian terms of art and literature were intro- duced, and many French terms, either on their own merits or by reason of the active part played by France in trans- mitting the results of the revival of classical learning from the Continent to England. Also some High German words came in through the association of English with German Protestants. In the drama of the immediate successors of Shakespeare, under James I., the language had already ac- quired that polyglot vocabulary which was to be hence- forth its characteristic. Further, the religious disputes, flrst between Catholics and Protestants, afterward between Anglicans and Puri- tans, together with the widespread use of the Prayer Book and English translations of the Bible, swelled the 330 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC. current vocabulary with many theological terms of Greek and Latin origin. Seventeenth Century. — From the middle of the seven- teenth century to the end of the eighteenth, the language was again subjected to strong French influences. For France, under Louis XIV., had taken the lead and set the fashion; and, although England was engaged in a des- perate struggle with France for the mastery of the seas, a struggle which ended only with the conquest of Canada and India, Englishmen of letters were under the spell of the court of Versailles. This period of our literature, conveniently designated the Dryden-Pope era, has an evident French vein of thought and diction. Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries. — In the eigh- teenth and nineteenth centuries many words have been introduced from the colonies, i. e., from India, the Cape of Good Hope, and Australia ; not to speak of borrowings from the Spanish, Dutch, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Malay, and the native languages of America, in short, from all the peoples with whom the Anglo-American race has had commercial dealings. There is still another class of foreign words, very numerous and important, namely, the terms of science. Under science is here included every study which aims at exact knowledge. Usually these scientific terms are of Greek or Latin formation ; some were used by the Greeks and Romans, but most of them are of modern coinage. In mathematics we have such terms as binomial, differential, integral, etc. ; in biology, systole, diastole, oviposit, etc. ; in geology, eocene, pliocene, troglodyte, etc. ; in chem- istry, oxygen, hydrogen, ethyl, methyl, etc. ; in theology, unitarian, trinitarian, hagiology, arid hundreds more in -ology; in philosophy, conceptualism, determinism, atavism, etc. It would be useless to multiply examples. These terms of science are already to be counted by the tens of thousands, and the number is constantly increasing. Each new discovery gives rise to a nomenclature of its own. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 331 5. American English. Its Origin. — The English language was brought to this country by the first colonists from England, in the six- teenth century. But the determining period of coloniza- tion was the seventeenth, although the number of colonists was largely increased in the eighteenth. Until the War of Independence this country was a group of colonies, and its language and its literature were distinctively colonial. With the establishment of the United States, however, the colonial period ended and a distinctively American period began. At the present day there is a perceptible difference, not only of pronunciation, but of diction, between the English of the educated classes in America and the English of the correspond- ing classes in England. Pronunciation. — The difference in pronunciation is described with sufficient accuracy by phoneticians. Only a few general points can be mentioned here. In general, the Englishman speaks more rapidly than the American, and is much given to ending sentences with the rising in- stead of the falling inflection. He suppresses the r freely, also the h sound in the wh- compound, confounding Wales and whales. This is quite distinct from the vulgar cockney ^(mse (for house) or h'ice (for ice). He pronounces the a broadly, especially in such words as half, dance, and ends many long vowels with an audible "glide." Thus the English pronunciation of pound suggests to an American ear something like pow-und. Even many of the short vowels have this glide. To sum up, the pronunciation of England oflers a greater variety of vowel-sound. On the other hand, the vowels are freer from the nasal twang which is apt to disfigure American utterance. Diction. — The difference of diction is less easily summed up. Any word-list, even were it exhaustive, would not state the case adequately. The idiomatic and rhetorical 332 COMPOSITION AND MHETORIC. employment of words must also be taken into account. Here is the weak side of American English. We do not, as a nation, speak and write with due observance of gram- matical propriety. We are too tolerant of vulgarisms and poor grammar. Yet even here it is necessary to discriminate. The uneducated speak badly in every land. The uneducated Englishman is fully as crude as his American cousin. The opposite extreme, the highly educated, speak and write about equally well everywhere. The problem for America lies rather with the half-educated, with those persons who have had some education, but not of the highest order. In America such persons play a more active part in public life than they do in England and other old countries. They write and print more, and are quite heedless of form. They are satisfied with any collocation of words that expresses the meaning approximately. Americanisms to be Avoided. — The faults of this kind of writing are justly condemned as " Americanisms." To remedy them is the problem of the present and the future. The solution of the problem lies in the establishment of a thorough, carefully graded course of reading and composi- tion for all scholars between the ages of ten and eighteen. It is the prime duty of the American school-system to im- part to every boy and girl both a taste for good reading and the gift of correct, easy, and refined expression. But it is not our duty to attempt to conform our expression in every feature to London English of the present day. Such an attempt would be impossible. Through the operation of social and political forces which cannot now be undone, correct London English and correct American English have so far diverged as to run parallel courses. The language established here in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries has retained words, or shades of meaning, and idioms, which are no longer in vogue in England. These words and idioms are sanctioned by the usage of our best poets and prose writers. Our literature, HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 333 in fact, is like our law. Each was transplanted from the mother country, but each enjoys now an independent growth. Within the past century we have acquired a reputable literary tradition of our own. To tamper with this tradition would be worse than useless. Although the great writers of England, past and future, will always be the object of our most earnest study, we are not constrained to follow them blindly. 6. General Remarks. English Vocabulary in General. — The total number of words to be found in English literature (non-dialectal) of all grades since the year 1100 has been computed at over 200,000. Of this vast number, however, many are obsolete or obsolescent, and many more are technical terms used only in certain trades or professions. The number of words which a diligent reader would meet with in a very promiscuous course of reading cannot be computed, but we might guess it to be 40,000, possibly 50,000. Whether a reader of not more than ordinary training would really understand 40,000 words is doubtful. One's understanding and appreciation of words depends in great part upon one's general training and home-surroundings. In this respect the children of cultured reading families have decidedly the advantage. The vocabulary which one uses in one's own writing is much smaller than the vocabulary needed for reading. Few, among the great writers, have used 10,000 words. An ordinary professional writer may content himself with from 5000 to 6000. The ordinary writer will find 3000 to 4000 a fair allowance. Acquisition of Vocabulary.— Some suggestions for ac- quiring an ample working vocabulary will be helpful. 1. Try, systematically and persistently, to enrich your vocabu- lary. When, in your reading, you meet with a word or a phrase which strikes you as at once novel and serviceable, note it down. Make sure of its exact meaning, and then 334 COMPOSITION AND BHETOBIO. try to introduce it in your own writing. This effort to use the diction of a good author is helpful in two ways. It augments your resources of expression, it also develops your mental faculties, it trains you to think in sympathy with one maturer than yourself. Consider that words are not mere algebraic symbols of thought; they are living organisms, to be studied only in their natural surroundings. 2. Bo not let yourself be misled into favoring one set or kind of words more than another- Sixty years and more ago, Lord Brougham, addressing the students of the Uni- versity of Glasgow, uttered the dictum that the native (Anglo-Saxon) part of our vocabulary was to be favored at the expense of that other part which has come from the Latin and Greek. The dictum was an impossible one, and Lord Brougham himself never tried seriously to observe it ; nor, in truth, has any great writer made the attempt. Not only is our language highly composite, but the component words have, in De Quincey's phrase, " happily coalesced." It is easy to jest at words in -osity and -ntion, at " dictionary " words, and the like. But even Lord Brougham would have found it difficult to dispense with pomposity and imagination} Our criterion for selecting a word should not be its origin but its function. Words of native origin are usually terms for familiar objects and qualities and for direct, strong action. Our longer Anglo-French and Greek-Latin words are usually terms for expressing delicate discriminations and abstract think- ing. Both sets are indispensable, and therefore both are used freely by all truly skilful writers. Thus Shakespeare makes the headstrong Cassius speak in the purest native monosyllables : I had as lief not be as live to be In awe'' of such a thing as I myself. — Julius Cassar, i. 2. 95. ' See De Quineey (Autobiography), 11. 65-70; also Matthew Arnold, On Trans- lating Homer, 288, 289. ^Awe happens to be a Danish word, see p. 324 ; but Shakespeare was certainly unaware of its origin, and we, too, should be, but for our philology. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE LANGUAGE. 335 Yet the same Shakespeare intuitively puts into the mouth of a more imaginative character such diction as : This my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine. —Macbeth, ii. 2. 62. 3. Consider that a rich and pure vocabulary is a badge of culture. Our words do not suggest at once their meanings, as German words usually do, by the mere formation. They demand more study and comparison, a wider range of reading, a keener insight into idiom. This is the diffi- cult side of our language. Unlike our grammar, which is the simplest of all grammars, our vocabulary is puzzling, even to the native. The mastery of it is the test of culture. While the German may take the fine distinction between dative and accusative for his test, or the Frenchman may take the subjunctive mood for his, the Anglo-American will judge his fellows by their words and phrases. [The references are to the pages of this volume.] abate, 51 abandon, 51 Abbott, E. A., Shakespear- ian Grammar, 191 abbreviations, marked by period, 26, 27 accent, hovering, 186 accents, 40 accuracy, in news-writing, 221 Acland, anecdote of, 247, 248 Addison, Joseph, 122, 226 address, of letter, 215 addresses, nature of, 234 adjective, declension in Old- est English, 323 adroitness, 51 adverbs, improper position of, 71 ; sentences should not be ended with, 99 adverbial clauses, position of, 73 iElfric, abbot, 324 iEneid, 198 affectation, a. fault in dic- tion, 49 Akenside, Mark, Pleasures of the Imagination, 210 alder, g. pi. of all, 323 Alexandrine verse, 172, 184 ; in Spenserian stanza, 176 allegorical epic, 199 allegory, 125-127 aller, g. pi. of all, 323 alliteration, in prose, 137; in verse, 181 allusion, 137 alone, only, 60 altar, 324 ambiguity, carelessness in use of pronoun, 77; pro- duced by improper posi- tion of the adverbs, 71 ; produced by squinting construction, 75-76 American English, 331, 332 analogy, 311 anapsestic foot, 168 anathema, 50 and, management of, 96, 258, 259 Anglo-Saxon, 321-324 anti-climax, loi antithesis, 127, 128 apostrophe, sign of punctu- ation, 40; figure, 132 appositeness, 52 336 apposition, reflex, 32 ; with comma, 17 ; with semi- colon, 22 Aristotle, 205 Armorican, 320, 321 Armstrong, John, Art of Preserving Health, 209 Arnold, Matthew, Essays, 226 ; On Translating Ho- mer, 334; St. Brandan, 201 ; Sohrab and Rustum, 201; Sonnet, 178; Thyr- sis, ig8, 202 ; Tristram and Iseult, 200 art epic, igg assassinate, kill, murder, 60 assonance, 181 asyndeton, 97 atavism, 330 attitude, posture, 58 authority, 311 autobiography, 231 avocation, 55 avow, acknowledge, con- fess, 60 awe, 324, 334 ; objects which inspire, 150 Baillie, Joanna, 143 balanced sentence, 67 Bale, John, King John, 204 ballad, 202 barbarism, violation of pur- ity, 49. 51 Bates, K. L., English Re- ligious Drama, 204 beauty, as a quality of style, 156-161 behest, 51 Bentley, Richard, 51 Beowulf, 198 Bible, 44 binomial, 330 biography, 231 Blair, Lectures on Rhetoric, 59, 72, 84, 85, gi, 95, g6, 97 Blake, William, Infant Joy, Cradle Song, 196 blank verse, 185-190 Boker, Geo, H., 104, 109 Bolingbroke, 123 book-notices, 225 borrowing words in Eng- lish, 324, 327, 329, 330 brace, 40 brackets, use of, 36 Breton language, 320, 321 British language, 319, 320 Brougham, Lord, 334 Browning, Mrs., Aurora Leigh, 141, 144; Cow- per s' Grave, 179 ; Lady Geraldine, 171 Browning, Robert, Andrea del Sario, 187, 188 ; Fifine at the Fair, 184; Flight of the Duchess, 181, 201 ; Saul, 168 Bryant, W. C, The Battle- field, 138 ; Thanatopsis, 210; ,To a Waterfowl, 197 Bulwer, 143 Banyan, John, Pilgrim's Progress, 127, 199 Burke, Edmund, his para- graph intuition, 249 ; On Conciliation with the American Colonies, 87- 88, 242-243, 253, 266, 268, 292 burden of proof, 315 burlesque, 118 Burns, Robert, Highland Mary, ig6; To a Mouse, 197 business, letters of, 216 but, misuse of, 259 Butler, Hudibras, 118 by, with 61 Byron, Lord, g7, 133, 144; Beppo, 175; Cain, 182; Childe Harold, 154; Don Juan, 175 ; Vision of Judg- ment, 175 ; Youth and Age, 171 cabal, 50 cablegram, 51 cablegraph, 51 cadence, io6, 107 caesura, 172, 186, 187 call, 324 Campbell, Thomas, Battle of Baltic, ig7; Philoso- phy of Rhetoric, 51, 76; Pleasures of Hope, 210; River of Life, 173 candlestick, canstick, 190 Canterbury, 325, 326 capability, 51 capitals, 41-47 capon, 324 caret, 40 Carlyle, Thomas, Boswell's Johnson, 123,245 ; French INDEX. 337- Revolution^ 262 ; use of vision, 137 case absolute, 18 ; inde- pendent, 18 •caster, 324 cedilla, 40 chapter-echo, 269 character delineation, 230, 232, 241, 242 Charlemagne romances, 200 Chaucer, Geoffrey, Lan- guage of, 327 ; Monk's Tale, 175; Prologue, 179 chemist, 52 -Chester, 324 Chester Plays, 204 chivalry, romances of, 200 choriambus, 169, 186 Christianity, introduced in England, 321 Chronicle-history, 204 chronological order, 243 Church plays, 203 Cicero, Oration against Ver- res, 101, 136 clearness, in oratory, 309 classical drama, 205 classical romances, 200 Claudian, 154 clauses, additional, 22 ; ad- verbial, 73; arranged in a climax, 100; concluding, 32 ; having a common de- pendence, 20; inverted, TO ; numbered, 41 ; of condition and dependence iz; qualifying, 83; rela- tive, 12, go; supplemen- tary, 91 Cleveland, Square-Cap, 193, 196 climax, of paragraph^ 246; of sentences, 100 Cnut, laws of, 324 Cobbett, Wiiliara, 77 coherence, 243 Coleridge, S. T., Ancient Manner, 180; Biographia Literaria, 50, 244 ; Cha- mouni Hymn, 160 ; Trans- lation from Schiller, 185 collective mystery, 204 colon, 23-25 color, beauty of, 156 comedy, 207 comma, 7-19 common metre, 174 complete, entire, total, whole, 61 complete sentences, 25 complex sentences, how punctuated, 23 ; difficulty of, 87 complexion, 190 composition in school, 277 composition -writing. See Chapter X. concede, 51 conceptual ism, 330 22 conciseness, in oratory, 309 conclusion, 290, 312 confess, acknowledge, avow, 60 conjunctions, use and effect of, 97 connected paragraphs, 240, 263-273 connectives, force of, 255, 256 construe and construct, 56 contagion, infection, 61 contemptible, 56 continental, 51 Continental drama, 205 continued sentence, 14 continuity. See Sequence. continuous verse, 182 contrast, how it strengthens sentences, 100 conversational essays, 226 conviviality, poems of, ig6 co-ordinate sentences, 14 co-ordination of paragraphs, 263 copper, 324 couplet, 173 Coventry Plays, 204 Cowley, Abraham, 120 Cowper, William, John Gil- pin, 202 ; Royal George, 197 Crabbe's Dictionary of Syn- onyms, 59 crave, 324 creed, 324 credibility and credibteness, 52 criminality, 51 curiosity, pun upon, 163 Curran, J. P., anecdote of, 163 dactylic foot, 168; hexame- ter, 184 Dane-lagh, 324 Danish, borrowings from, 324,326,334 Dante, Divine Comedy, 191, 199 Darwin, Charles, Origin of Species, 273 ; Voyage of the Beagle, 247 Darwin, Erasmus, Botanic Garden, Phytologia, Zo- onamia, 209 dash, 31-34 date, of letter, 215 deacon, 324 debate, 315-318 definition, in debate, 317 deliberative oratory, 308 demonstrative oratory, 308 De Quincey, Autobiography 334 ; essays, 226 ; Mail Coach, 166 determinism, 330 De Vere, Aubrey, Legends of the Saxon Saints, 201 2 B diaeresis, 40 diary, 228 diastole, 330 Dickens, Charles, David Copperfield, 257, 262 diction, see Chap. II. ; in England and in America, .331,332 dictionary, use of, 49 didactic poetry, 208-210 Dies Irse, 197 differential, 330 difficulty, obstacle, 59 direct question, with inter- rogation-sign, 28 directive paragraph, 265 discourse, 233-235 discover, invent, 61 dish, 324 double rhyme, 178, 179 drama, definition of, 202 ; history of, in England, 203-206 ; kinds of, 207, 208 drinking songs, 193, 196 druggist, 52 Dryden, John, 123, 138, 140; Absalom and Achitophel, 210, 211; Alexander's Feast, 197 Dryden-Pope era, 330 Durham, 325, 326 earnestness, in oratory, 310 ecclesiastical romances, 201 echo, in paragraph-making, 253, 268, 302 Eclogues, see Virgil Edinburgh Review, 226 editorial, 223, 224 eight-line stanza, 175 elegiac metre, 185 Elegy, 198 Eliot, George, Janet's Re- pentance, 247 ; Silas Mar- ner, 266, 297 ; Spanish Gypsy, 181 Elizabethan'pertod, 206 ellipsis, with comma, 19 ellipsis of the relative pro- noun, 95 Emerson, O. F., History of English Language, 319 Emerson, R. W., 162 end-stopped verse, i8g enjambement, 183 enough, sufficient, 62 entire, complete, total, whole, 61 envelope-address, 218 eocene, 330 epic, 198, 199 epigram, 128, 129 essay, in literature and sci- ence, 225-227 ethyl, 330 etymology, advantage of, 49 eulogy, 308 euphemism, 136 euphony, 103-105 338 INDEX. exaggeration, 135 example, instance, 62 except, 55 excite, incite, 61 exclamation, as a rhetorical figure, 131 exclamation, sign of, 29-31 explicit, express, 61 exordium, in discourse, 236; in oratory, 312 exposition, 279 extra syllables in verse, 188, 189 eye-doctor, 59 fable, 126 farce, 208 feminine rhyme, 178 fiat, 49 fiction, 231-233 figurative language, 115-147 figure, beauty of, 157 figures, definition of, 115; names of, 117: origin of, 116 firmament, sublimity of, 150 flirtation, 50 folk-epic, 198 font, 324 foot, in verse. 167, 168, 169 foreign words, faulty use of, 49, 50 formulating subject, of com- position, 283-288. Franklin, B., letter to Lord Strahan, 163 French drama in England, 205 French words in English, 32 7 » 330 friendship, poems of, 196 Gaelic language, 320 Gay, John, 130, 143 Genung, J. F., Practical Elements of Rhetoric, 261, 262 Georgics, see Virgil German, relations to Eng- lish, 322 ghosts, awe inspired by, 151 Gibbon, Edward, historical style, 230 Goldsmith, Deserted Vil- lage, 143 ; Retaliation, 140, 143 Gosse, Edmund, 184 got, 56 Gower, 327 Gray, Thomas, Bard, 197; Elegy, 143, 173; Progress of Poesy, 197 Gummere, F. B., 202 hagiology, 330 Halleck, Fitz-Greene, Mar- co Bozzaris, 197 harmony, 103-109 Hawthorne, Nathaniel, House of Seven Gables, X23. 135. a5o» Z54» 265, 260, 272 heading of letter, 214 heaviness^ weight, 59 Heber, Richard, 145, 168 heptameter, 171 Herod, in church plays, 203 heroic verse, 183 Herrick, Robert, Counsel to Girls, 196 hexameter, 1S4 Heywood, John, 204 Hill, A. S., Foundations of Rhetoric, 261 Hill, D. J., Elements of Composition and Rhet- oric, 290 historical novels, 232 historical present, 261, 262 historical romance, 201 historical style, 230 history, 229-231 Holmes, O. W., 146 Hood, Thomas, 163 ; Bridge of Sighs, 179 Hooker, Richard, 51 Holland, J. G., 146 hovering accent, 186 bring, Ang.-Saxon, 323 humor, 164-166 humorists, kind-hearted, 165 husband, 324 hustings, 324 hydrogen,' 330 hymns, 174 hyperbole, 135 hyphen, 40, 43, 44 iambic foot, 168, i6g ; hex- ameter, 184 ; pentameter, 183 ; tetrameter, 182 ideal, in poetry, 194 identical rhyme, 179 ^diom, 51 idyll, 200, 201 ignis fatuus, 50 ignominy, ignomy, 190 ignoramus, 50 ignore, 51 Iliad, 198 imitating paragraph-struc- ture, 248 imperfect rhyme, 180 incarnation, 325 incite, excite, 61 incognito, 50 indenting, 240 independent paragraph, 240, 273-276 indirect exposition, 244 infection, contagion, 6i inflexible, inexorable, 58 Ingelow, Jean, 145 innocence, inn'cence, 190 instance, example, 62 integral, 330 intensify, 50 interlude, 204 intermediate expressions, how punctuated, xo interrogation, as a rhetor>> ical figure, 131 interrogation point, 28, 29, 41 introduction, in discourse, 236; in oratory, 312 invent, discover, 61 invention, 238 inversion, 94 ; produced by there and it, 82 irony, 136 irregular rhythms, 192 Irving, Washington, Buck- thorne, 267 ; Indian Cha- racter, 251 ; Sketch Book, 251, 253 ; The Wife, 107 ; Wolfert Webber, 252 isolated paragraph, 240 isometric song, 176 it and there, inversion pro- duced by, 82 italics, 40, 84 item, 50 Johnson, Dr., 67, 105 Jonson, Ben, To Celia, 196 judicial oratory, 308 Junius, 67 Kalevala, the, 198 Keats, John, Human Sea- sons, 180; Sleep and Poe- try, 184 Keltic languages, 320 Kentish dialect, 325 key-sentence, 249 kill, assassinate, murder, 60 King and Miller of Mans- field, 192 kingly, regal, royal, 61 Kingsley, Charles, Three Fishers, 202 Klopstock, Messiah, 199 knife, 324 Lamb, Charles, Old Famil- iar Faces, 196 Langland, Vision of Piers Plowman, 182, 199 Latin, in England, 320, 324, 328, 330, 334 law-cases, 311 leader, editorial, 223 lectures, 234 legislative oratory, 308 length of paragraphs, 263 letters, 212-221 light endings in blank verse, 189 like, 55 line, in poetry, 171, 172 link paragraph, 265,292 litotes, 137 lobster, 324 logical order, 243 London English, 327, 33a long couplet, 183 INDEX. 339 Longfellow, 120, 144, 145, 146 ; Blind Bartimeus, 179 ; Daybreak, 173 ; Evangeline, 201 ; Golden Legend, 204; Hiawatha, 16S, 183, 199; King Olaf, iTO ; Miles Standish, 185 ; Old Clock, 172 : Old Dan- ish Song Book, 176 ; Teg- ner's Drapa, 176; Village Blacksmitn, 172; Wreck of the Hesperus, 202 long metre, 174 Longinus, on the sublime, 155 long sentences, when to be used, 69 loose sentence, uses and dangers of, 65 loudness, when sublime, 152 Lounsbury, T. R., History of English Language, 319 love, poems of, 196 Lover, Samuel, 119 Lowell, 138, 139, 140; 47; Biglow Papers, 211 ; Commemoration Ode, 197 j Essays, 226; Voy- age to Vinland, 176 lucid, luminous, 60 lyric poetry, 195-198 Macaulay, 142; Boswell's Johnson, 135, 242; Essays, 226 ; on Addison, 255, 260 ; on Chatham, 264,266, 272, 300-303 ; on Milton, 227 machinery, impression of sublimity produced by, 150 Mahabharata, 198 malevolence, malice, malig- nity, 59 Marlowe, Passionate Shep- herd, 196 ; Tamburlaine, 185 masculine rhyme, 178 mass, 324 medicine, medcine, 190 memorial verses, 209 memoirs, 230, 231 metaphor, 122-125; differ- ence between simile and, 122 ; effectiveness of, 122 ; straining the, 125 Mercian dialect, 321, 325 methyl, 330 metonymy, 129, 130 middle rhyme, 180 Midland dialect, 321, 325 mill, 324 Milton, John, Areopagitica, 106; Christ's Nativity, 197 ; his comparisons, 119- izo; II Penseroso, 182; TAllegro, 139 ; Lycidas, ^43) 193* 202 ; On Educa- tion, jd6 ; Paradise Lost, g8, 105, 108, 133, 142, 154, 187, 199 ; Paradise Re- gained, 199 ; Samson Agonistes, 205 ; Sonnet on Blindness, 178 minor climax, loi minster, 324 miracle play, 204 mixed metaphor, 124 mixed questions, 311 mock epic, 199 monk, 324 Montaigne, Essays, 226 Moore, Thomas, Light of Other Days, 196 moral beauty, 159 moral sublime, 152 morality play, 204 motherly, maternal, 59 motion, beauty of, 158 Moulton, R. G., 208, 299 [Shakespeare as a Dra- matic Artist, 3 ed, Ox- ford ; Clarendon Press, 1893] murder, assassinate, kill, 60 mutual, 55 mystery play, 203 narrative poetry, 198-202 national hymns, 195 Nativity, the, in Longfel- low's Golden Legend, 204 nature, poems of, 197 nemesis, in drama, 207 new words, use of, 50 news-writing, 221-223 Nibelungen Lied, 198 night, impressiveness of, 151 Noah, in church plays, 203 Norman Conquest, 325, 326 Northumbrian dialect, 321, 325 nouns in apposition, with comma, 17 novels, 232 nun, 324 O, and oh, 29 obsolete words, use of, 50, obstacle, difficulty, 59 occasion, opportunity, 59 octameter, 171 octave, in sonnet, 177 octosyllabic verse, i8z oculist, 59 ode, 197 Odyssey, 198 offer, 324 Oldest English, 321-324 omission, marked by dash, 33 ; marks of, 40 omission of syllable in verse, 16B. i88 omnibus, 50 only, alone, 60 opera, 51 optician, 59 orator, personality, 310 orations, 333, 307 originality, 51 originate, 51 Ormulum, 326 Ossian, 119 ottava rima, 175 outsider, 50 oviposit, 330 oxygen, 330 pale, pallid, wan, 60 pall, 324 palladium, 50 palm, 324 panegyric, 308 parable, 126 paradise, 50 paragraph, see ch. IX ; sign of, 40 paragraph centres, 249 paragraph structure, see ch. IX. ; George Eliot's faults of, 297 paragraphs of introduction and conclusion, 269-273, 290-202 parallelism, in Hebrew v., 68 parenthesis, 34-36; Blair's opinion of, gi ; danger in the use of the, 91 participial construction^ ef- fect of, 83 pastoral poetry, 202 pause, in verse, 170 patriotism, poems of, 197 pea, 324 pear, 324 pedantry, in diction, 49 peninsula, 51 pepper, 324 period, 25-28, 41 periodic sentence, 64 peroration, 237, 312, 313 personal element, in ora- tory, 310 personal essays, 226 personification, 45, 133-135 persuasion, 310, 311 Peterborough, 326 Petrarchian sonnet, 177 Piers Plowman, 182, 199 pillow, 324 Plautus, 205 pleonasms, 94 pliocene, 330 Poe, E. A., Annabel LeC; 104 ; The Bells, 109 poetry, see ch. VII. Pollard, A. W., English Miracle Plays, 204 polysyndeton, 97 Pope, Alexander, Epistle to Arbuthnot, 183 ; Essay on Criticism, 52, 142 ; Es- say on Man, 68, 139, 210; Rape of the Lock, 199 ; Translation of Homer, 123 ; Universal Prayer, 197 340 INDEX. Porson, Richard, anecdote of, 56 posture, attitude, 58 power, 150 precision of diction, 58 predicate, 55 prepositions, sentences should not be ended with, 99 principal predicate, place for, 83, 84 private romance, 201 procession, 325 pronouns, carelessness in use of, 77-79 pronunciation, in Chaucer, 328 ; in Elizabethan drama, 19c; in America and in England, 331 proper names, begun with capitals, 43 propriety of diction, 55 providence, when capital- ized, 42, 43 pulpit oratory, 308 pun, examples of, 163 punctuation, see ch. 1. punning, habit of, 164 purity of diction, 49 quantity, marks of, 40 quatrain, 173 question, how punctuated, 28, 33» 42 Quintilian, 76 quire, for choir, 182 quorum, 50 quotation, how punctuated, i9> 23. 37-39. 42 Ramayana, 198 reading, school courses of, 294 reckless, 51 redundant words, 94 reference, marks of, 49 regal, kingly, royalj 61 related paragraphs, 240 religion, poems of, 197 repeated structure, 252 replace, 56 reporting, 221-223 repudiate, 51 reserve force, in orator, 310 respectively, 56 reverting narrative, 269 review essays, 226 review-writing, 224, 225 revision, 288 rhyme, 178-182 rime riche, 179 Rogers, Samuel, A Wish, 173 ; Pleasures of Mem- ory, 210 Roget's Thesaurus of Eng- lish Words, 59 Roman letters, 41 romance, poems of, 199-202 Romance element in Eng- lish, 328 Romans in Britain, 320 running over in verse, 183 run-on verse, 189 Ruskin, John, 247, 248, 271 Sackville - Norton, Gorbo- duc, 185 satire, 210-211 Scott, Sir Walter, Ivanhoe, 242 ; Lady of the Lake, 201 ; Marmion, 201 sculptor, 51 sectional rhymes, 180 semicolon, 20-22 Seneca, 205 sentence, 14, 21, 33, 25, 64- 114 [see periodic, loose, balanced, short and long] ; harmony of, 103 ; how to end a, 98, 99 ^sentimental, 51 septenary, 171 sequence, paragraph, 243- 245 series, expressions forming a, 14 ; words forming a, 15 sermons, 234, 308 sestet, in sonnet, 177 Shaftesbury, Earl of, 85 Shakespeare, All's Well, 171; As You Like It, 145, 207; Comedy of Errors, 189 ; Coriofanus, 188 ; Hamlet, 132; Henry IV., 207; Henry VIII., 143 ; Julius Csesar, 136, 334 ; King Lear, 207, 208 ; Macbeth, 142, 187, 207, 335; Merchant of Venice, 188, 189, 207, 20S; Merry Wives, 207; Midsummer Night's Dream, 207 ; Othello, 207 ; Richard III., 132, 139, 207; Son- nets, 138,1 77-1 78 ; Taming of Shrew, i88, 207; Tem- pest, 187, 188, i8q, 205, 207 ; Winter's Tale, 188, igo, 207 Shelley Adonais, 198; Al- astor, 189 ; Euganean Hills, 180; The Cloud, 197; To , 174; To a Skylark, 197 shibboleth, 49 shifted consonants, 323 short couplet, 182 short metre, 174 short sentences, when to be used, 69 shrive, 324 Sidney, Sir Philip, advocate of Unities, 205 signature to letter, 216 simile, 11 7-122 simplicity, in oratory, 309 single rhyme, 178 single-sentence paragraphs, 268 slang, 223 Skeat, Etymology, 319 Smith, Sydney, 161 sonnet, 176-178, 197 Spectator, the, 226 speculative, spec'lative, 190 speeches, 234 Spencer, Herbert, 122 spend, 324 Spenser, Edmund, Faery Queene, 141, 172, 176, 199 ; Snepherd's Calen- dar, 192, 202 Spenserian stanza, 176 spirit, sprite, 190 splitting construction, 96 spondee, 169 squinting construction, 75, 76 Stanley, H. M., Darkest- Africa, 256 stanza, 172-176 starvation, 50 Stedman, E. C, Victorian Poets, 174, 176 striding, in ver.se, 183 strong rhyme, 178 style, see pt. I. ; etymology of, 3 sublimity, 149-156 subsidiary matter, how dis- posed of, 82 sufficient, enough, 62 suicide, 51 Swift, 143, 269 Swinburne, A. C, Tristram of Lyonesse, 2cx} symmetry of discourse, 235 synecdoche, 130 synonyms, 58-62 systole, 330 take, 324 telegram, 51 telegraph, 51 temple, 324 Tennyson, Alfred, 109, 125, 128, 147; Audley Court, 176, 202; Break, Break, 170; Brook, j8o, 186, 187; Dora, 202 ; Edwin Mor- ris, 202 ; Elaine, 187 ; Enoch Arden, 201; Gar- dener's Daughter, 202 ; Guinevere, 176; Idylls of the King, 200 ; In Memo- riam, 168, 170, 182, igS ; isometric song, 176 ; Lady of Shalott, 179; Locksley Hall, 172, 173; Merman, 171 ; Morte d' Arthur, 186; Oriana, 172; Prin- cess, 168, 176, 188, 196, 300; St. Simeon Stylites, 201 ; Two Voices, 173 ; Walking to the Mail, 202 ; When, 171 INDEX. 341 Terence, 205 terza rima, igi testimony, 311 text-books, treatises, 328 thaumatuTgist, 52 Theocritus, 201 there and it^ inversion pro- duced by, 82 Thomson, James, Seasons, 2TO threnody, 198 throughly, -50 timid, 51 titles of books, how punc- tuated, 24, 25, 41, 42 titles of compositions, 293 titles of honor and office, 44 Tooke, Home, 164 topic-sentence, 24^ total, whole, entire, com- plete, 61 Towneley collection of old plays, 203, 204 tragedy, 207 transitional paragraph, 265 translation, a way to enlarge vocabulary, 48 travel, books of, 228, 229 treatise, 237-228 tribulation, 51 trinitarian, 330 trinity, 325 triplets, 173 trisyllabic rhyme, 178 trochaic foot, 168 troglodyte, 330 tropes, 116 trout, 324 tumbling verse, 192 Tupper, M. F., Proverbial Philosophy, 210 Tyndall, John, Fragments of Science, 225 umbrella, 51 unitarian, 330 Unities, the, 205 unity, of oration, 309 ; of paragraph, 240-243 ; of sentence construction, 86 ; of subject in discourse, 235 vagueness, 151 variety, in paragraphs, 260 vastness, 149 vernacular, 51 verse, 167 very, its use to be avoided, 95 Virgil, ^neid, 198; Ec- logues, 201 ; Georgics, 209 vision, 137 vocabulary, 333 vocative case, 18, 23, 23 volume of sound, sublimity of, 152 Waller, Edmund, 139 wan, pale, pallid, 60 weak endings in blank verse, 180 weak rhyme, 178 Webster, apostrophe to La- fayette, 123, 306; Bunker Hill, 305, 308 ; Dartmouth College,27i, 308, 311 ; On Eloquence, 244 ; Reply to Hayne, 308 weight, heaviness, 59 Welsh language, 320 Wendell, English Composi- tion, 289, 290 West Saxon, 321, 325 whether, whe'r, 190 Whittier, J. G., Maud Mul- ler, 202 ; Proem, 105, 142 whole, entire, total, com- plete, 61 Williams, Composition and Rhetoric, 290 Winchester, 325, 326 wit, 161-164 with, by, 61 without, error for unless, 55 Wolfe, Charles, Burial of Sir John Moore, 197 Worcester, 325, 326 Wordsworth , Brougham Castle, 134; DaflFodils, 107 ; Excursion, 210 ; Fountain, 179; Glen-Al- main, 180 ; Intimations of Immortality, 197 ; Sky- lark, 197; Tintern Abbey, 186, 210 wrong, 324 York, 325, 326 York Plays, 204 Young, Edward, 125, 139, 142 ; Night Thoughts, 4f MODEL TEXT-BOOKS, ft^ Brooks' Elocution and Reading. Chase ^ Stuart's Classical Series. Crittenden Commercial Arithmetic. Edward's Hand-Booh of Mythology. Gregory's Practical Logic. Gregory's Christian Ethics. Groesbeck's Practical Bookkeeping. Hart's English Composition. Mills' Physiology and Hygiene. Smyth's American Literature. Thorpe's Civil Government. Trimhle's Hand- Book of Literature. Triirible's Short Course in Literature. Webb's Word Analysis. Westlake's 3000 Practice Words. Wilson's Elem^entary Algebra. ^ -m- ^ American Literature. A Text-Book for Schools, Academies, and Colleges. BY ALBERT H. SMYTH, A.B., Of Johns Hopkins University ; Professob op Litekatdre IN THE Philadelphia Central High School. There has been for years past a growing demand for a text-book on American Literature, comprehensive in its scope, yet sufficiently concise to be completed in one term. Such a text-book is here presented. Houston's New Pliysical Geography is more generally used in the Private Schools, High Schools, Academies, Seminaries, and Normal Schools throughout the country at large than any other text- book on the subject. The work has been thoroughly and carefully re- vised, to accord with the latest teachings of science. An entirely new and beautiful series of maps is pre- sented, which for teaching purposes are unequalled by anything of the kind heretofore published. 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