CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 1924 031 787 363 olin,anx The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031787363 A SYSTEM OF RHETORIC. SYSTEM EHETOEIC Br C. W. BAKDEEJSr NEW YOKK A. S. BARNES & CO., PUBLISHERS. cornell\ university LIBRARY / COFTBIOHT BY A. S. BARNES ^ CO. PREFACE. In presenting to the public a new text- book on Rhetoric, the author asks attention to these features as characteristic : (1.) It is kept in tlie foreground throughout, that the fundamental law of rhetoric is adaptation ; that the form of discourse, like the fashion of clothing, has no intrinsic beauty, but is or is not artistic as it does or does not pro- duce the effect designed, at the time and under the circum- stances. (2.) That the student- may look on rhetoric as an art, not like trigonometry which he may use, but like arithme- tic which he mu^t use, its most important laws are devel- oped in the practical treatment of Conversation and Letter- Writing. The boy who does not care to be taught speech-making and verse-writing may be glad of help to feel at ease among strangers, and to write a business letter. To this is added instruction in Narration and Descrip- tion. These are forms of composition in which the essen- tial element is not literary taste but personal experience. Any man may be called upon to tell or to write for the newspaper what he has done or seen, and every man should be able to do it well. Because Conversation, Letter- Writing, Narration, and VI PREFACE. Description are of immediate interest to every one, they are the essential portion of the subject, and for scholars who do not care for more, this part of the book, including a full treatment of Punctuation, is published in a sepa- rate volume, called " The Elements of Practical .Rhetoric." (3.) "With the Essay begins vi^hat is properly literary work. One must converse, write letters,„narrate, describe, — and the only question is whether one shall do it well or ill. But one need not write for the magazines or deliver orations or piiblish poems, unless one has a taste that way. Hence this part of the subject has been kept distinct, and for those who so prefer it is published in a separate volume, called "A System of Advanced Khetoric." Especial pains has been taken in the treatment of Prep- aration and Invention. The principles laid down are familiar to practised writers, but are usually reached by experience instead of by instruction. It is believed that these chapters will do much for young authors to make the way easy and definite. (4.) The mechanism of composition, instead of being scattered throughout the book, is gathered into Part I., serving as an introduction. The treatment differs from that usually found in so-called " Composition Books," in that it treats the sentence from a point of view purely rhetorical. Hence arrangement of words, phrases, and clauses is made prominent, the principles under this head being distinguished from the rest under the title of " Observations." These will be found to occupy more than half the space given, and their importance cannot be too strongly insisted upon. For those who desire. Part I. is published by itself, in a volume called " Outlines of Sentence-Making." (5.) Throughout the book there is a profusion of illus- PREFACE. VU trations, believed in this subject to be particularly essen- tial. Anecdotes have been chosen vrherever practicable, because a bliinder tliat is ludicrous is more, easily remem- bered and avoided. The bearing of the anecdote on the principle illustrated will not always be seen at a glance by most pupils ; but the point will be found when searched for, and the profit will be greater for the search. Through- out the author has aimed to be suggestive i-ather than ex- haustive ; to quicken thought as well as to convey- infor- mation. (6.) The multitude of quotations from leading authors on rhetoric serves a double purpose, the language of most of them being referred to throughout the book in illustra- tion of the qualities of style. It is believed that the fre- quency of credit given will be in most cases sufficietit acknowledgment ; but in a few instances the memorandum of the source of a quotation has been lost. Two books, so far the best in their respective departments that intelli- gent treatment must follow them closely, deserve especial mention : these are, " The Art of Extempore Speech," by M. Bautain ; and " The Art of Eeading," by M. Legourve. Upon a subjiect like this, alwaj's a favorite theme ■\^'ith the best writers, it would be preposterous to hope for originality. What is true is as old as Aristotle, and what should be announced as new in principle might safely be condemned as -untrue. Yet because rhetoric is a means to an end, the application of its principles must vary with the age and the people where it is to be exercised. This is an age of newspapers, and we are a busy people— with little leisure to contemplate beauty of diction, but accus- tomed to glance down the column to see what the writer is aiming at and whether he hits it. As a practical art, modern rhetoric must accept and vm PREFACE. yield to this tendency, and its canons of criticism must be applied to the morning jonrnals. It is nowhere stated in this book at what point in the Iliad the first simile occurs ; but there are many quotations from newspapers just now most popular, with some effort to distinguish power from bombast, humor from vulgarity and imbecility. This criti- cism the student is expected to carry further and apply to Jiis daily reading — which is more likely to be of the New York Herald and the Burlington HaioJceye, than, of Hesiod and Catullus. In short, this book is written from the standpoint of one whose daily work it has been for some years to read and' select and publish manuscripts, who knows from experi- ence the actual difficulties and faults of young writers, and who would like to help them. Hence the treatment throughout is practical rather than scholastic, adding much that is unusual in text-books of the kind, and omit- ting some things that since the time of Campbell and Blair have been considered conventional. The author hopes that trial will prove these changes to have been made with good reason, and the book to have contributed something toward general culture in good speech and good writing. NOYXMBBB 2, 1883. ELEMENTS OF PKACTICAL KHETOEIC. PART I. Sentence-Making. — Through Facility to Felicity. PART II. CONVBKSATION. — Main Purpose, to Promote Sociability. PART III. Letter-Writing. — Main Purpose, to Convey Information. PART IV. The Essay. — Main Purpose, to Interest. PART V. Oratory. — Main Purpose, to Persuade. PART VI. Poetry. — Main Purpose, Contemplation. PAET I. SENTENCE -MAKING PART L SEJ{TEJ^CE-MAKIJ^G. SECTION FIEST. SIMPLE SENTENCES. Composition is the art of arranging onr thoughts, and expressing them in appropriate language. All thoughts are expressed by means of Sentences. The formation of Sentences is therefore the first step in Composition. The Simple Sentence is the basis of composition, and the foundation of all other sentences. It is so called because it is the expression of a single thought, and con- tains only one Subject and one Predicate. All other sentences are merely combinations of Simple Sentences. They must therefore contain two or more Subjects, and two or more Predicates. The Subject in every Simple Sentence is that of which something is affirmed; the Predicate is that which is affirmed of the Subject. XVlll THE SUBJECT. [Part I. SUBJECT. Birds Some birds Some birds of prey Some birds of prey having secured their victim, Examples, PKEDICATE. fly. fly swiftly. fly very swiftly. fly very swiftly with it to their nests. In the first example we have the simplest form of the Subject and Predicate ; in the other three, we have expanded forms. The Object. — When the Predicate contains a transi- tive verb, it can be subdivided into Predicate and Object. Thus : StTBJECT. The scholar The diligent scholar The diligenb scholar being always prepared, PREDICATE, repeats repeats cotrectly repeats correctly to his master THE SUBJECT. OBJECT, the lessons, the lessons of the day. the different lessons of the day. The Subject of a Simple Sentence may be either (1) a JSToun, (2) a Pronoun, (3) an Adjective used as a noun, (4) an Infinitive, or (5) a Participle. Thus : (1) Procrastination is tlie thief of time. — Young. (2) He taught us how to live and how to die. — Tickell (of Addison). (3) The upright shall prosper. (4) To suppress the truth may be a duty to others ; never to utter a falsehood is a duty to ourselves. — Hake. (5) Doing his duty is the delight of a good man. ExEECiSE I. — Complete the following sentences by sup- plying appropriate subjects. Note I.— Every affirming sentence begins with a Capital, and ends with a Period. See page 257. Example. — The shepherd tends his flock. — tends his flock. — praises the scholar. — overcomes difficulties. — enlightens the earth. — promotes health. — import cargoes. — succeeds sum- mer. — cultivates the ground. — produces fruit. — moves the train. — gather moss. — lash the shore. — sounds the charge. Sec. IJ : PLACE OF THE SUBJECT. Xix . — cleaves the air; — ploughs the main. — build nests. — make long voyages. — guards the house. — yields a costly fur. — buries its eggs in the sand. — ^walks rapidly over the hot desert. — often baffles the hounds. — is adapted to their kind of life, ^are termed oviparous. — forms a diphthong. — are called poly- syllables. — is the ear. —directs all animals in the choice of food. — lies between the tropics. — is situated between the torrid and the north frigid zone. — affords a striking illustration of the doon£of insatiable ambition. — cannot vie with the beau- ties of nature, —will prove a source of happiness. Obs. I . — The subject usually precedes the predicate; but may follow it when the sentence is introduced by it, this, there, now, etc., as in the following sentence : It is easy to go. It is necessary that there should be a general understanding as to the relative position of the subject and the object, since both have in English the same form. In the sentence, John struck James, it would be impossible to tell which struck and which received the blow except on the general principle of arrangement that the sub- ject precedes and the object follows the verb. Hence in poetry, the fact that this principle is often disregarded may occasion am- biguity. Thus : And all the air a solemn stillness holds. — Gray. The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose, And him outlive, and die a violent death. — Shakspebe. See also pages 293, 294. inrmitives commonly give up their formal place as subject or as object, mostly in favor of a provisional pro- noun — it, this, that. The anticipation of the infinitive by means of it is exceedingly frequent. " It was not easy to wound his feelings ; " " My patron had it not in his power to introduce me personally ; " it is the formal subject in the one case, and the formal object in the other, while the infinitives to wound and to introduce, which are the real subject and object, are formally said to be in apposition to the XX THE SUBJECT. [Pakt I. pronoun. In careful writing, the form in to has a monopoly of this usage. — Bain. Thus, we should not say, " It was not easy wounding his feel- ings ; " "He had it not in his power introducing me personally.'' Obs. 2. — ^The natural order of words in a sentence may be varied in accordance with the first law of Force, that envphatic tjoords must stand in positions emphatic he- cause unusual ; as when the subject is removed from the beginning of a sentence, or the predicate is put there. Thus: Much is this inculcated by Cicero and Quintilian.— Bl.Am, Flashed all their sabres bare. — Tennyson. And shrieks the wild sea-niew. — Bybon. But whoso went his rounds, when flew bat, flitted midge. — Bbowhihg. When the subject is a pronoun, the object may in like manner be put before the verb. Thus : Some he imprisoned, others he put to death. Military courage, the boast of the sottish German, of the frivolous and prating French- man,' of the romantic and arrogant Spaniard, he neither possesses nor values. But where both subject and object are substantives, such inver- sion would produce ambiguity (see Obs. 1, page xix). To indicate emphasis, therefore, the form of the sentence must be changed. In the sentence, " John struck James," we can in speaking give special stress to either of the three words that we wish especially to emphasize. In writing we can italicize either of the three, as, " John struck James," where it is assumed that James is struck, and the question is as to who did it ; or, " John strtick James," where it is assumed that John did something to James, and the question is as to what he did to him ; or, " John struck James," where it is assumed that John struck somebody, and the question is as to whom he struck.. But both vocal emphasis and written italics are so frequently misused that it is better so to construct the sentence that the arrangement shall make the meaning clear. Thus the three meanings of the sentence given are indicated clearly as fol- lows : It was John that struck James ; What John did to James was to stride him ; It was James that was struck by John. Sbc. I.] PLACE OF THE SUBJECT. XXI The emphasis of the predicate might be shown by this arrange- ment, "Struck was James by John." This inversion would be suitable in poetry, and is sometimes unobjectionable in prose of an elevated character. But with ideas and words so common- place as these such an arrangement would be bombastic. Obs. 3. Inversion.— We can often pnt the verb before the subject by beginning with an adverb, or other- wise changing the form of the sentence. This structure is called Inversion. Thus : There goes a man, down the road. Scarcely had Tom spoken, when, etc. Then came the crisis. Such was his fate. Now is your time. No sooner had we started, than. How are the mighty fallen. Swiftly flew the arrow. Especially in the Subjunctive Mood, is it common to use such forms as, Were I an officer, instead of, If I were an officer. Some writers practise this degree of inversion, which our lan- guage bears, much more than others ; Lord Shaftesbury, for in-' stance, much more than Mr. Addison ; and to this sort of aiTauge- ment is owing, in a great measure, that appearance of strength, dignity, and measured harmony which Lord Shaftesbury's style possesses. This will appear from the following sentences of his " Inquiry into Virtue ; " where all the words are placed, not strictly in the natural order, but with that artificial construction which may give the period most emphasis and grace. He is speaking of the misery of vice : This as to the complete immoral state, is what, of their own accord, men readily re- mark. Where there is this absolute degeneracy, this total apostasy from all candor, trust or equity, there are few who do not see and acknowledge the misery which is con- sequent. Seldom is the case misconstrued, when at worst. The misfortune is, that we look not on this depravity, nor consider how it stands, in less degree. As if, to be ab- solutely immoral, were, indeed, the greatest misery ; but, to be so in a little degree, should be no misery or harm at all. Which, to allow, is just as reasonable as to own that 'tis the greatest ill of a body to be in the utmost manner maimed or distorted ; but xxii THE SUBJECT. [Part I. that, to lose the use only of one limb, or to be impaired in some single organ or member, is no ill worthy of the least notice, (ii. 82.) . Here is no violence done to the language, though there are many inversions. All is stately, and arranged with art ; which is the greatest characteristic of this author's style. We need only open any page of Mr. Addison to see quite a different order in the construction of sentences. Our sight ia the most perfect, and most delightful, of all our senses. It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the sreatest distance, and continues the longest in action, without being tired, or satiated with its proper enjoy- mentp. The sense of feeling can, indeed, give us a notion nf extension, shape, and all other ideas that enter at the eye, except colors ; but, at the same time, it is very much strained and confined in its operations, etc. — Spectator^ No. 411. In this strain he always proceeds, following the most natural and obvious order of the language : and if, by this means, he has less pomp and majesty than Shaftesbury, he has, in return, more nature, more ease and simplicity ; which are beauties of a higher order. — Blair. It is not upon such changes as these that I propose to remark, but upon certain rather newfangled forms of expression which seem to me affected and^ not felicitous. The first of these which I shall bring up is a change in the position of the verbs 6e, have, and do in sentenot's in which the latter clause makes a comparison with something set forth in the former. ^For example : Lord George also was displeased — more thoroughly displeased than had been his wife. — Trollope : Popenjoy^ Chapter A, Bankruptcy has tended, as might have been expected, to produce bankruptcy ; and for all purposes of panic as well as business, N(?w York and London are as close as loere London and Manchester a few years ago.— Pall Mall Budget, June 8, 1878. It is needless to give more instances ; the writing of the day is full of them, and Mr. Trollope, the chief, and one of the earliest, if not the earliest, of offenders, is but the fore- most man of a multitude. This placing of the verb directly after the conjunction or preposition is a new trick in style. It is sheer affectation, and, if X do not err, is quite un- English. In such sentences as those given above, che simple English construction is, " more thoroughly displeased than his wife had been,"" '' are as close as London and Man- chester were a few years ago." The placing of the suliject of the verb after it, except by poetic license, or in very elevated prose {and even there with great discretion), is not English, it is not clear, it is not natural. No good speaker of English would talk in this style, even in the soberest conversation. If I remember rightly, Macaulay never uses this construction, nor Cardinal Newman, a very correct writer, whose taste is unexcep- tionable. The fashion came in not long ago through the desire to avoid a verb of one syllable at the end of a sentence. For example: " Mary was not so beautiful as her sis- ter was." To end the sentence with a dissyllable instead of a monosyllable {a very weak affectation), the verb was transposed, and we had, *■ As xoas her sister." Whoever wishes to write clear, manly, and simple English will avoid this foolish fashion, which, however. Sec. I.] INVERSION. xxiu has become so prevalent that it appears with a most ridiculons incongruity even in such writing as that of the following passage from a report of a dramatic performance by " Count Joannes : " "In the audience last night were many Yale students, who were, of course, boister- ous and jolly, and led the attacks, but justice requires the remark that they did not say as many funny things as did two or three newsboys in the gallery." — R. G. White. ExEKCiSE II. — In the following sentences, change the form so as to put the Predicate before the Subject. Note II. — An inverted clause is usually set off from the rest of the sentence 'by a Comma. See page 293. Examples. — The express is going ; There goes the express. The tug of war is coming ; Now comes the tug of war. "What he said is as follows ; This is what he said. I never before saw such a show. If I had known you were sick I should have come up. I am very glAd to see you again. He jumped up. The thermometer dropped down. The chair fell over. She was, he said, the best of mothers. The issue, my law- yer writes, is doubtful. He was not once defeated. Satan came also, last of all. They didn't care for him. He shall go. After inversion, the usual order of subject and predicate seems awkward ; as, No contemptible orator he was. — Blair. Exercise III. — Reconstruct the following sentences so as to show (1) that the emphasis is on the subject ; (2) that it is on the predicate ; and (3) that it is on the ob- ject. Example. — (2) Found was the water by the crow. Water was found by the crow would usually answer for either (1) or (3), but if more positive emphasis is required, (1) It was the cr'ow that found the water ; (3) It was water that the crow foTmd. The crow found the water. The boy threw pebbles. Mary broke the pitcher. The ostrich inhabits the desert. The farmer raises corn. xxiv THE OBJECT. [Part I. Obs. 4.— "When the subject is long or complicated it is well to summarize it before the verb. For examples, see page 283. THE OBJECT. The Object of a simple sentence may be : (1) a Koun, (2) a Pronoun, (3) an Adjective used as a noun, (4) an Infinitive, or (5) a Participle. Examples. — (1) Who steals my ^arse, steals iras^. (2) We loved her, but she died- (3) His views and affections take in only the visible. (4) Learn to labor and to wait. (5) He prefers walking to riding. Exercise IY. — Supply objects to the following transi- tive verbs. Example. — The sun gilds the hill-top. The sun gilds — . The diligent boy deserves — . Education improves — . Pools de- spise — . Eain refreshes — . The gardener prunes — . The boy repeats hiS' — . The king levied — . The physician prescribes — . Spring revives — . The hunter climbed — . The weary laborer reached — . Good men comfort — . Good kings love their — . The bridge spans — . Ducks frequent — . Participles and Verbal Nouns differ in that a Participle retains the notion of time and agrees with the noun, while the Verbal Noun expresses only the abstract idea of the action, and is the object of the noun in the possessive. Obs. 5. — "Verbal Nouns should be avoided where verbs can be used instead, because unless immediately preceded by prepositions they may often be mistaken for participles. ExEECiSE Y. — Change the following sentences by con- verting the verbal nouns into plirases. Sec. I.] MODIFIERS OF SUBJECT AND OBJECT. XXV Example.— yilhea Horace trembled for the life of Virgil, it was an interesting moment, etc. Horace [Horace's] trembling for the life of Virgil is an interest- ing moment [episode] in the history of poetry and [of] friendship. — Gibbon. I assure you therefore seriously, and upon my honor, that the carrying [of] this point seems essential to the success of this meas- lu'e. — W. Prrr. In hot climates, the letting into a country of a mass [of] stag- nant water, etc. — Bentham. The ascertaining [of] a principle in metaphysical science is sometimes the. clearing up of a doctrine of revelation. — W. J. Fox. Mr. Mill will see that the point of dubiety spoken of was one which suggests not the hanging of the culprit, but the sparing [of] him. — P. P. Albxanbek. In approaching the practical problem, there are two parts that will need to be kept distinct — the first starting of the new system, and the keeping [of] it going after it has been started. — Cairns. MODIFIERS OF THE SUBJECT AND OF THE OBJECT. Kinds of Modifiers. — The Subject or the Object may be expanded by Modifiers of the following kinds: (1) Adjectives; (2) Possessives; (3) Appositives; (4) Parti- ciples ; (5) Infinitives ; (6) Preposition Phrases ; (7) Ad- verbial Phrases ; (8) Clauses. ( I ) Adjectives may be roughly classed as {a) De- scriptive, or as simply {h) Demonstrative. a. Descriptive Adjectives limit the nonn by nam- ing some quality belonging to it. ExEECisE VI. — Supply appropriate adjectives in the fol- lowing sentences. Example. — A disobedient child is a grief to his parents. A — child is a grief to his parents. A— zephyr played on the surface of the lake. The elephant is a very — animal. Gold is the — of all metals. A red morning sky betokens a — day. Hindostan has a XXVI ADJECTIVES. [Part 1. —climate. Money is a— source of strife. Some ground requires —weeding. The— heavens are a sublime spectacle. A— bower is pleasant in summer. The sheep supplies us with an endless va- riety of— material. Wheat was at one time a— article of food in this country. The rivers afford an— supply of fish. A— friend is the cordial of life. Milk is an— article of diet. Hannibal was a— enemy to the Eomans. Belgium is a very— country. The Dutch are a very— people. Alfred was a — monarch. The wasp has a — waist. Obs. 6.— Fitting Adjectives. — The descriptive adjectives employed indicate more surely than any other feature the quality of the author's style. Don't say It tastes nice, when tou mbas It tastes delicious. She walks n^cel^/, She walks gracefully. He did it nicely, He did it skilfully. She looks nice, She looks charming. The water is nice, The water is refreshing. He is a nice man, He is a, pleasant man. A nice odor, A savory odor. A nice landscape, A lovely landscape. A nice smile, A winning smile. A nice mansion, A luxurious mansion. A nice cottage, A snug cottage. A nice companion. An agreeable companion, etc., etc. That stupid vulgarism by which we use the word nice to de- note almost every mode of approbation, for almost every variety of quality, and from sheer poverty of thought or fear of saying any- thing definite, wrap up everything indiscriminately in this charac- terless domino — speaking in the same breath of a nice cheese-cak^, a nice tragedy, a nice oyster, a nice child, a nice man,„a nice tree, a nice sermon, a nice day, and a nice country. — Aechdeacon Hake. "When I first looked upon the Falls of the Clyde, I was unable to find a word to express my feelings. At last a man, a stranger to me, who arrived about the same time, said, "How majestic ! " (It was the precise term, ancl I turned avonnd,. and was saying Sec. I.] CHOICE OF ADJECTIVES. xxvii " Thank you, sir ! that is the exact word for it," when he added, eodem flatu) — " Yes, how YeiYj pretty ! " — Ooleetdgb. Exercise YII. — Substitute other adjectives in the fol- lowing sentences. Example. — For indigent, poor, needy; insufferable, intolerable, unendurable ; jeering, sneering, scoffing ; community, fraternity, society ; flung, threw, cast ; individual, character, person ; kicked, drove, spurned ; rage, fury, passion ; mean, slavish, servile ; un- ruly, ungovernable, intractable ; wealthy, rich, opulent ; longing, panting, desiring ; forgiven, excused, pardoned ; conspicuous, dis- tinguished, illustrious. At Oxford, Johnson lived during about three years. He was indigent even to raggedness ; and ids look provoked a mirth and a compassion which were equally insufferable to his haughty temper. He was expelled from the quadrangle of Christ Church by the jeering looks which the members of that aristocratical com- munity flung at the holes in his shoes. Some charitable individual placed a new pair at his door, but he kicked them away in a rage. Distress made him, not mean, but reckless and unruly. No wealthy gentleman commoner, longing for one-and-twenty, could have used the academical dignities with more gross disdain. Much was for- given, however, to a stripling so loftily conspicuous by abilities and attainments. In that portion of the western section of this empire which is ordinarily designated Somersetshire, there lately resided, and per- haps lives still, a gentleman whose appellation was AUworthy, and who might well be termed the favorite of both nature and fortune, because both of these seem to have striven which should bless and endow him most. In this contest, nature may appear to have come oflf triumphant, as she bestowed on him many endowments, while fortune had only one gift in her power ; but in lavishing this, she was so very lavish, that others perhaps may consider this one en- dowment to have been more than equal to all the diversified bless- ings which he enjoyed from nature. From the anterior of these he received an agreeable appearance, a sound constitution, a solid intellect, and a good heart ; by the latter, he was appointed to the heirship of one of the largest possessions in the country. xxviii ADJECTIVES. [Part 1. Forms in Comparison. — -As a general rule, the comparative and superlative degi'ees are formed by ap- pending er and est to adjectives of one or two syllables, and by prefixing more and most to adjectives of more than two syllables. The rule is not, however, arbitrary, and some writers allow themselves great liberty in the matter. We find " honorablest " in Bacon; " virtuousest " in Milton; " beautifuller," " beautifuUest," in Oaiiyle; " unrivalledest " in Howells. Dean Alford speaks of " a more neat way of expressing." Groans and tears, looks and gestures, a flush or a paleness, are often the most clear reporters of the heart, and speak more directly to the hearts of others. — Gomhill Magazine. Double comparatives are of course inadmissible ; as, The last are indeed more preferable. — Addison. Obs. 7. — The comparative degree must be used only of different objects, or of the same object at different stages of its existence. Therefore when a comparative is followed by than, the thing compared must be always ex- cluded from the class of things with which it is compared, by otiier or some such word. Thus : The letters published after 0. Lamb's death and that of his sis- ter, by Mr. Talfoiu-d, make up a volume of more interest to me than any [other] book of human composition. — 0. E. Leslie. irrobably Lord Halifax is better versed in the real history of the period . . . than any [otJier] living man or ("Bear" Ellis ex- cepted) than any [other] man who ever lived. — Political Portraits. "Your Englishman is just as serious in his sports as in any [other] act of his life." "Much more so," observed Mr. P.— 0. Dblmbe. Compare: " Scott's works were the daily food, not only of his countrymen, but of all educated Europe." Bain corrects this to " but of all the rest of educated Europe," or to " the daily food not of his countrymen alone : " otherwise the implication is that Scott's countrymen were not educated. Sffic. I.] DEGREES OF COMPARISON. xxlx The objects compared must be in the same category. We cannot say, There is no nobler calling than a teacher. Compare this sign in Essex, England : NO HORSES SHOD ON SUNDAY, Except Siclrness ana Death. Obs. 8. — The superlative degree, on the other hand, must be used only of objects in the same class. Thus, St. Petei-'s is greater than any other church (not than any church), but, St. Peter's is the greatest of all churches (not, of all other churches). ExEECisE VIII. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — It was the happiest time he had ever spent. It was the happiest time he had ever yet spent. This work was, however, destined to cause Lady Morgan more trouble and annoyance than she met with in the whole course of her literary life. — Memoirs. Adam. The comelicfit man of men Bince bom His sons. The fairest of her daughters Eve.— Milton. The very class who, of all other citizens, were least to be trusted. . . . . Who they pronounce to be of all others the least falli- ble in their judgment It was the most amiable, although the least dignified, of all the party squabbles by which it had been preceded. — James Williams. Mr. Stanley was the only one of his predecessors who slaugh- tered the natives of the regions he passed through. — Tlie (London) Examiner. Errors in education should be less indulged than any. — Locke. I know none so happy in his metaphors as Addison. — Blaik. No writer in our language is so purely English as he is, or bor- rows so little assistance from words of foreign derivation. — Blaie. This noble nation hath of all others admitted fewer corrup- tions. — Swift. The vice of covetousness is what enters deepest into the soul of any other. — Guardian. XXX ADJECTIVES. [Part I. There is no talent so useful toward rising in the world or which puts men more out of the reach of fortune, than that quality generally possessed by the dullest of people, and that is, in com- mon language, called discretion. — Swift. Obs. 9. — The superlative of two seems on its face an absurd expression, and the young writer is advised in comparing two objects to use the comparative degree, preceded by tlie definite article. Thus, He is the taller of the two ; not. He is tallest of the two. Dual foems, pertaining to two objects and not to more than two, are often misused in composition, but should be respected by those who would write irreproachably. Camp- bell says : "Most languages distinguish dual from plural in numeral [de- monstrative] adjectives. Thus in English, When the discourse is of two ; of several: collectively, ' both, all ; distributively, each, every; , indiscriminately, either, any ; exclusively, neither, none ; relatively and interrogatively, whether, which. " This distinction in French hath been overlooked altogether, and in English is beginning at least in some instances to be eon- founded." That Campbell himself confounds it in the case of the comparative is shown in the following statement : We say rightly either "This is the weaker of the two," or " the weakest of the two." — Rhetoric, i. 383. How Many Alternatives? — We are grateful to our esteeined contemporary, the Berald, for calling our attention to the phrase " three alternatives," which, it seems, has got into our columns, and for pronouncing it bad English. We like nothing better than to be corrected when we are in the wrong. Such correction ii the sure means of im- provement, and improvement, progress, is one of the great ends of this mortal life. Can- dor also compels us to say that the Herald is correct in its criticism, and that the dic- tionaries generally take that view of the question which it propounds. Strictly speaking. Sec. I.] ADVERBS FOE ADJECTIVES. xxxi an alternative relates to the opportunity of choosing between two things ; and yet if a writer speaks of three or fonr alternatives, his English is not absolutely vicious, because in that case he imagines the choice to be made between one of the things he refers to on one side and all the others on the other. For instance, when the order of the Osmanli was offered to Mr. Bennett in Constantinople, in recognition of his distinguished talents as a journalist, he bad several alternatives, namely, first, to accept the compliment or to decline it ; secondly, to accept it unconditionally, or to accept it on condition that he should be made an Osmanli of the first class, instead of the second or third class, which was offered him; thirdly, to accept it on condition that the act should be approved by the Administration at Washington and by Congress ; fourthly, to accept it, whether with conditions or without, and to keep the fact private ; or fifthly, to accept it and make the fact notorious. Does not this make five alternatives open to Mr. Bennett in regard to this single decoration of Turkish knighthood? Could he not choose either one of them and reject all the rest, putting the one he chose on one side and all the others together on the other, thus complying with the strict sense of the phrase by making his choice be- tween two things only ? We take pleasure in the discussion of these nice questions of language with a learned and critical journal like the Herald ; and we trust that whenever it sees us falling into a blunder, it will administer the necessary correction. — N. Y. Sun, Exercise IX. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — The mother seemed the younger of the two. The mother seemed the youngest of the two. — Thackebat (in Esmond). If we consider the works of nature and art, as they are qualified to entertain the imagination, we shall find the last very defective in comparison of the former. — Addison. The question may be said to be entirely open to the peculiar views of the presiding judge and the witnesses in each case, neither of whom have a definite standard of action in law or in medicine to guide them in their investigation. — Ncyrth American Review. That he \Shakspere\ wrote the plays which bear his name we know ; but except by inference we do not know the years in which they were written, or even that in which either of them was first performed. — Richard Gbant WHrrB. Peasant, yeoman, artisan, tradesman, and gentleman could then be distinguished from each other almost as far as they could be seen. Except in eases of unusual audacity, neither presumed to wear the dress of his betters.— Id. Obs. I O.— Adverbs for Adjectives. — By ellipsis adverbs sometimes do duty as adjectives. Though not without authority, this custom should be avoided. xxxii ADJECTIVES. [Part I. There are a few disagreeable matters of style, suet as the re- peated use of the adverb almost as an adjective, " an almost child ; " and the same misuse of other adverbs, as in — ■" to think on the once themes is to be by my once self ; " and " joy at this house's now despair.'' Such things as these are too dreadful to criticise. — H. B. Firman. We seem to remember remarking that David Davis wouldn't look badly in the chair. — Sprmgfield R^ublican. "Look badly" looks bad. Overhaul your grammar. — Lowell Courie}-. "We copy the above in the hope that it may meet the eye of the schoolmaster. Among people who lay claim to culture we know of no more preva- lent solecism than this " look badly," " feel nicely" atrocity. One might as well say "feel coldly," or "feel hotly." — Boston Tran- ExEECisE X. — Change the following sentences so as to escape the use of adverbs as adjectives. Example. — In the situation he was then in. In his then situation. — Johnson. The seldom use of it. — Trench. (Here infrequent may be sub- stituted for seldom.) Our Lord's own use so frequently of the term. — Trench. For in my then circumstances, the notef was of much more con- sequence to me. — Thackeray. After the then country fashion. — Kjngslev. My Lord Duke's entertainments were both seldom and shabby. — Thaokbeay. Adjectives for Adverbs. — The nse of adjectives for adverbs is inexcusable. Thus : If with your inferiors speak no coarser than usual ; if with your superiors no finer. — AiiPord. He that lays open his vanity in public acts is no less absurd than he that lays open his bosom to an enemy whose drawn sword is pointed against it ; for every man hath a dagger in his hand ready to stab the vanity of another whenever he perceives it. — FtELDiNG. It should be added that a speaker's being well heard does not depend near so much on the loudness of the sounds, as on their Sec. I.] PLACE OF THE ADJECTIVES. xxxiii distinctness ; and especially on the clear pronunciation of the con- sonants. — ^Whately. Obs. I I . — The English adjective usually precedes the noun. The advantages of this arrangement are thus stated : Is it better to place the adjective before the substantive, or the substantive before the adjective ? Ought we to yay with the French— wra c/ieval notr ; or to say as we do — a black horse ? Probably most persons of culture would decide that one order is as good as the other. Alive to the bias produced by habit, they would ascribe to that the preference they feel for our own form oC expression. They would expect those educated in the use of the opposite form to have an equal preference for that. And thus they would conclude that neither of these instinctive judgments is of any worth. There is, however, a philo- soph'cal ground for deciding in favor of the English custom. If " a horse black '' be the arrangement, immediately on the utterance of the word ' ■ horse," there arisen, or tends to aHse, in the mine?, a picture answering to that word ; and as there has been nothing to indicate what kind of horse, any image of a horse suggests itself. Very likely, however, the image will be that of a brown horse ; brown horses being the most familiar. The re- sult is that when the word " black " is added, a check is given to the process of thought. Either the picture of a brown horse already present to the imagination has to be sup- pressed, and the picture of a black one summoned in its place; or else, if the picture of a brown horse be yet unformed, the tendency to form it has to be stopped. Whichever is the case, a certain amount of hinderance results. But if, on the other hand, *'a black horse " be the expression used, no such mistake can be inadc. The word " black," indi- cating an abstract quality, arouses no definite idea. lb simply prepares the mind for con- ceiving some object of that color ; and the attention is kept suspended until that object is known. If, then, by the precedence of the adjective, the idea is conveyed without liability to error, whereas the precedence of the substantive is apt to produce a misconception, it follows that the one gives the mind less trouble than the other, and is therefore more forcible. Possibly it will be objected that the adjective and substantive come so close together, that practically they may be considered as uttered at the same moment ; and that on hearing the phrase " a horse black," there is not time to imagine a wrongly colorei horse before the word " black" follows to prevent it. It must be owned that it is not easy to decide by introspection whether this is so or not. But there are facts collaterally imply- ing that it is not. Our ability to anticipate the words yet unspoken is one of them. If the ideas of the hearer kept considerably behind the expressions of the speaker, as the ob- jection assume.s, he could hardly foresee the end of a sentence by the time it was half de- livered ; yet this constantly happens. Were the supposition true, the mind, instead of anticipating, would be continually following more and more in arrenr. If the meanings of words are not realized as fast as the words are uttered, then the loss of time over each word must entail such an accumulation of delays as to leave a hearer entirely behind. But whether the force o( these replies be or be not admitted, it will scarcely be denied that the right formation of a picture will be facilitated by present- ing its, elements in the order in which they are wanted, even though the mind should do nothing until it has received them all.— Herbert Spencbb. Ambiguity sometimes results from a neglect of this principle. V xxxiv ADJECTIVES. [Pakt I. Thus a newspaper summarizes an oflScial report as follows : The report ol Postmaster D. for the month of July to the Postofflce Department shows that during that month there were 60 carriers employed, who made 24,344 delivery and 34,546 collection trips daili/. In other words, each carrier made nearly a thousand trips a day. Of course "daily trips " was intended, but the transposition makes of the adjective an adverb. Even when the adjective modifiers are many and various, it is sometimes best to bring them in before the subject, especially in poetry. Obs. 12. — In some cases, however, it is better that the adjective should follow tlie noun. {a) Custom has fixed certain forms ; as : Poet laureate, governor-general, lord paramount, knight errant, States General, court martial, body politic, notary public, sign- manual, Theatre Eoyal, letters patent, time immemorial, bride elect. Oompai-e lord-lieutenant, duchess-dowager. Knight Templar. (h) Complicated Adjectives, whetlier aggregated or modi- fied, usually follow, that the noun be not too long delayed. Thus: His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark brow'd. A system worthy of the name of religion. Details requisite for the house of a moderate gentleman, A man wise in his own conceit. Obs. 13. —A serious and very common error of ar- rangement is to place the noiin between the adjective and the modifiers of the adjective. High voices in altercation, and voices high in altercation, are by no means equivalent expressions. The first represents the voices as pitched high by native quality, and the other as pitched high by Jthe excitement of the occasion. Sec. I.] THE DEFINITE ARTICLE. XXXV In the following example, tastes would vary as to whether the adjectives should precede: But while long, though unconscious, discipline has made it do this efficiently. — Hbbbbbt Spencek. b. Demonstrative Adjectives distinguish the noun as an individual from others of its class, hj j)oin1/mg out instead of describing it. These adjectives may be classified as (i.) Definite, (ii.) Indefinite, and (iii.) Numeral. i. Definite Adjectives include (a) The Definite Article, (/8) the pronoun adjectives, This and That. a. The Definite Article is used to refer to some- thing already distinguished in the mind from others of its class, or about to be distinguished by limitation. Less frequently it is prefixed to plural adjectives ; as, " Naught save good of the de- parted ; " or to Bingular adjectives to form an abstract noun ; as, "Worshipof the visible;" or before a singular noun to represent a class ; as, "The oak is harder than the elm." It is also prefixed to superlatives to make them more emphatic, and to comparatives when followed by of, or in phrases like " the more the merrier." The definite article is nothing in itself; it is a pointing word, and what it points to is given in the first instance by a relative clause to follow; "the book that you wish," "the shop that we have passed." By the curtailments of the clause we reach the participial phrase, and then the adverbial phrase, the commonest of all ways of signifying the reference of the article ; " the clock in the steeple," "the way to glory," " the Tower of London." The vague preposition " of " answers the purpose. — Bain. Obs> 1 4. — The article must be repeated when the sec- ond of two connected nouns refers to a different object (see Obs. 35, page Ivi). Thus : Referring to one object. The secretary and treasurer. A black and white horse. Referring to two objects. The secretary and the treasurer, A black and a white horse. xxxvi ADJECTIVES. [Part I. This applies also to adjectives that accompany the article and belong to both objects ; as, Philosophers rejected with equal fervor the established religion and the [established] political creed. — Leslie Stephen. ExEEcisE XI. — Improve the following sentences by re- peating articles and adjectives where necessary. Example. — They possessed both the civil and the oriminal juris- diction. They possessed both the civil and criminal jurisdiction. — Hume. The elder and yoimger son . . . were, like the gentleman and lady in the weather-box, never at home together. — Thaokebay. The pursuers ajid pursued entered together. The lords spiritual and temporal, wisdom and folly, the virtuous and the vile, the learned and ignorant, the temperate and debauched, all give and return the jest. — Bkown. My Christian and surname begin and end with the same letters. — Spectator. The French and English writers. — Blair. The creed of Zoroaster supposes the co-existence of a benevolent and malevolent principle. — Walter Scott. ExiJEoiSE XII. — In the following sentences, state whether one object or more than one is referred to, and how the meaning may be changed by repeating or omitting the article. Example. — Wanted a nurse and housemaid, means that the same person is to be both. Wanted a nurse and a housemaid, means that two persons are wanted. The Town and County Bank. Alike the busy and the gay. And owns the patron, patriot, and the friend. — Savage. She never considered the quality but merit of her visitors. — Wm. Penn. Before the use of the loadstone, or knowledge of the compass. — Deydbn. Obs. 1 5. — Sometimes, especially when there are more than two connected nouns referring to the same object, the Sec. I.] THE DEFINITE ARTICLE. xxxvii. article is repeated for emphasis. In such cases, the am- biguity is usually removed by the context. Thus : Dare any soul breathe a word against the sweetest, the ten- derest, the most angelical of young women ? — Thackbbat. Of these pamphlets the longest, the bitterest, and the ablest was commonly ascribed to Ferguson. — Macaulat. I returned a sadder and a wiser man. — Colekidge. Obs. 1 6. — Whether we should say " the first two," or " the two first," is a matter of discussion. The meaning to be expressed is, bring me the first, second, and third of a row ; or bring me all from the first to the third. De- siring a shorter mode of statement, we are accustomed to say " the first three," or "the three first," neither of the forms admitting of being construed strictly. The following occurs in Matzner : In connection with Jlrst and otfier, tlie cardinal number is found before or after : *'The four Jlrst acta" (Sheridan, Critic, I. I); "For the ,^*'s/ ten minutes " (Cooper, Spy, 13) ; '* Four other children " (Lewes, Goet/te, I. 18) ; " Otfier seven days " (Gen. viii. 12). The preference of grammarians is for the "first three ; " with regard to "three first," they ask. How can three be first? The only answer is to retort that the " first three " is inapplicable to the first, second, and third of a single pile ; it supposes a line of three abreast. We find in good use such expressions as these : " the two high- est men;" " the ifM'o swcceeofin^r chapters ; " "the two next candi- dates." Of a work brought out in two volumes, a critic said — " the two 6es< volumes of light reading that have appeared this year.'' This would have been a case for " the best two volumes.'' Gibbon says of the history of Eome : " The seven first centuries were filled with a succession of tri- umphs." This is hai'dly to be imitated ; no more can we com- mend "the first seven centuries." Better avoid the form alto- gether. "For seven centuries (from the first) the history was a succession of triumphs." — Bain. XXXviii ADJECTIVES. [Pakt I. (/8) This and That are used to refer distinctively to two objects already mentioned. Obs. I 7. — For this purpose we have a series of adjec- tive couples ; as, That, This. The one, The other. The former, The latter. The first, The second. The fii'st named. The last named, etc. By writers generally, the couple "former and latter "is more used than any of the rest. In my judgment, the other forms are in many instances preferable. From an extensive examina- tion of cases, I am inclined to believe that the reference by " former and latter '' is frequently very obscure. I subjoin a few examples, selecting first from Gibbon, who makes great use of the construction. We have computed the inhabUants, and contemplated the public works of the Boman Empire. The observation oE the number and greatness of its cities will serve to con- firm the former and multiply the latttr. A most perplexed reference. The antecedent to " former " should have been " [we have given] a computation of the inhabitants,'' while " multiply the latter " refers simply to public works. There is, moreover, the very common fault of such references — too great a distance from the subjects. Nothing short of repeating the subjects themselves, or giving a various wording of them, would enable a reader easily to follow the passage. The second sentence might run thus : A consideration of the number and the greatness of the cities belonging to the Em- pire, will confirm our statement of the population, and enhance our estimate of the pub- lic works. The productions of happier climates and the industry of civilized nations were intro- duced into the Wq^t ; and the natives were encouraged to multiply the /wmer and improve the latter. In this case, " the one and the other," a more homely English form, or "the first and the second," would answer equally weU. But the double reference itself is of questionable propriety in such Sec. I.] THE ONE, THE OTHEE. xxxix cases. It is very artificial and clumsy, if not slovenly. We are introduced to two subjects, but are not warned to keep in mind the precise order that they are given in ; presently we come upon words that direct us to recall first one and then the other, in the exact order ; the hardship being aggravated by the absence of any marked natural sequence. Further, the suggestion of the idea of contrast is not inconsiderable ; a contrast, however, that turns out, on examination, to be merely a contrast of position, or one of statement. . . . Compare with these instances Macaulay's practice : JameB had, during the last year of his reign, been even more hated by the Tories than by the Whigs ; for to the Whigtt he was only an enemy, and to the I'ories he had been a faithless and thankless friend. Our translation of the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican is an interesting example of our mode of reference for a twofold object. Two men went up into the temple to pray, the one a Pharisee and the other a Pub- lican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus . And the Pitblican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heavt n. . . . I tell you this man went down to his house justified rather than tlie other. First the subjects are introduced by their special designations, along with the correlatives "the one" and "the other," which serve to indicate a contrast, and to warn the reader that they are to be kept distinctly separate. On the first recuiTence of the sub- jects, the names are repeated : on the second occasion, "this" is used for the second of the two, being the nearest ; " the other" is used for the first The following old pai-aphrase of the passage now quoted shows the more usual practice in making " the one " and " the other " stand for " the first and the second," or "the former and the latter." Did two go up to the temple to pray ? Or rather say the one went up to brag, the other t^," as the case may be I Do you see how very close in this way you may approximate to truth ; and how clearly your qnestiontir will understand what he so anxiously wishes to arrive at — your exact steite of health? Let this system be adopted into our elements of grammar, our conversation, our litera- ture, and we become at once an exact, precise, mathematical, truth-telling people. It will apply to everything but politics ; there, truth being of no account, the system is use- less. But in literature, how admirable 1 Take an exami)le : As a 19 young and 16 beautiful lady was 52 gayly tripping down the sidewalk of our 84 frequented street, she accidentally came in contact— 100 (this shows that she came in close contact) — with a 73 fat, but 87 good-humore-^ looking gentleman, who was 93 (/ e., in- tently) gazing into the window of a toy-shop. Gracefully 56 extricating herself, she re- ceived the excuses of the 96 embarrassed Falstaff with a 68 bland smile, and continued on her way. But hardly — 7 — had she reached the cnrner of the block, ere she was ovcr- tiikeu by a 2-1 young man, 32 poorly dressed, but of an 85 expression oE countenance ; 91 hastily touching her 54 beautifully rounded arm, he said, to her 67 surprise— " Madam, at the window of the toy-phop yonder you dropped this bracelet, which I had the 71 good fortune to observe, and now have the 94 happiness to hand to you." (Of course the expression "94 happiness" is merely the young man's polite hyperbole.) Blushing with 76 modesty, the lovely (76, as before, of course) lady took the bracelet — which was a 24 magnificent diamond clasp (24 magnijice?it^ playfully sarcastic ; it was probably not one of Tucker's) — from the young man's hand, and 84 hesitatingly drew from her beautifully 88 embroidered reticule a 67 portemonnaie. The young man noticed the action, and 73 proudly drawing back, added— ** Do not thank me ; the pleasure of gazing for an instant at those 100 eyes (perhaps xlii NUMERALS. [Pabt 1. too exaggerated a compliment) has already more than compensated me for any trouble that I might have had." She thanked him, however, and with a 67 bhish and a 48 pensive air, turned from liim, and pursued with a 33 slow step her promenade'.— yl New System of English Orammar. (a) Cardinals are used of groups, and show the size of the group ; as, Three men ; 365 days. Obs. I 9. — In -weitistq numbees, round sums are usu- ally spelled out, as are numbers smaller than one hundred. But where statistics are given, figures should be used, how- ever small the number may be. Sums of money should usually be expressed in figures where both dollars and cents are to be expressed. Note HI. — Numbers above one thousand, except in dates, are com- monly divided by commas into periods of three figures each. Thus, $2,4:67.89; 34,586,709. See also page 259. Obs. 20. — Collective Words, like co-aple, dozen, etc., should be used to express number only when the objects enumerated are grouped in couples, dozens, etc. Exercise XIII. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — Two days after. (If it is desirable to retain the air of indeftniteness that belongs to " a conple of days after," but is lost in the precision of "two days after," we may say, "a day or two after," or "some two or three days after.") A couple of days after. — Thackeeay. I have another with a couple of hundred Continentals behind him. — Thackeray. Wanted three or four dozen females to make match-boxes. (/3) Ordinals are used of individuals, and show the position of the individual in the group ; as. The third man. The 365th day. Obs. 21 . — The th that denotes the ordinal should be placed at the end of the entire number ; thus : The Evening Telegram says: "The Eev. Thomas K. Beecher, of Elmira, preached his seventeenth hundred sermon on Sunday Sec. I.] POSSESSIVES. xliii morning.'' The Telegram should explain what a "hundred ser- mon " is, and why Mr. Beecher has preached seventeen of them. Obs. 22. — Usage Differs as to whether a nnmeral following a noun is to be considered a cardinal or an ordinal. Thus we may write either Sept. 3, or Sept. 3d ; Part Two, or Part Second. (2) Possessives denote possession, or some kindred connection. For punctuation, see page 259. The truth is that the English case in s has not only the possessive use of the Anglo- Saxon genitive, but the other cases which stand nearest to this. Thus it is constantly employed to denote connection in family, or state, or society ; as in JohjCs brother, Henrifs neighbor, EnglancVs queen, the king's enemies — in old English we find even the king's traitors. Mr. Manning might perhaps argue that to say the king's enemies im- plies that " the king has enemies," and expresses therefore a possessive relation. But the verb have is a word of very general meaning, which can be used in a multitude of cases where there is no possession, properly so called, and sometimes even where our pos- sessive case would be inadmissible. Thus, every apple has a half, but we cannot say evei'v apple's luilf. Still farther our case in s is used to express the subject of an action or attrfhute ; as in coward's/ear, GoiVs tove, the prisoner's being absent. But relations which stand at a wider distance from the possessive cannot be expressed in this way. Thus, the objective relation ; we do not say God'.^ fear, but the fear of God ; not the child's guardianship, but the guardianship of the child. We do indeed say England's ruler, the child's guardian ; but here it is political or social connection that is thought of. and not the object of the action. In like manner our case in s cannot be used as a genitive partitive (not women's loveliest, but loveliest of women) ; nor as a genitive of ma- terial (nob leather's girdle, but girdle of leather) ; nor as a genitive of designation (not Ttalti's kingdom, but kingdom ofItaiy).—3ATSs,^ Hadley. Obs. 23. — The Objective Genitive, or the rela- tion of the possessive to its noun as the object of the action implied in the noun, not being permitted in English, sncli expressions as " In our midst," for " In the midst of us," .must be carefully avoided. An attorney not celebrated for his probity was robbed one night on his way from Wicklow to Dublin. His father, meeting Baron O'Grady next day, said : " My lord, have you heard of my smi's robbery?" "No, indeed," replied the Baron; "pray whom did he rob?" — Hodgson.. xliv POSSESSIVES. [Pakt I. Obs. 24. — A Relation of Persons. — "Another rule is to avoid converting mere abstractions into persons. I believe you will very rarely find in any, great writer be- fore the Revolution the possessive case of an inanimate noun used in prose instead of the dependent case, as, ' the watch's hand,' for ' the hand of a watch.' The possessive or Saxon genitive was confined to persons, or at least to animated subjects." — Coleeidge. In modern English the inflected possessive of nouns expresses almost exclusively the notion of property or appurtenance. Hence we say a marCs hat, or a man's hand, but the description of a man, not a man's description. And of course we generally limit the ap- plication of this form to words which indicate objects capable of possessing or enjoying the right of property : in a word, topersons, or at least animated and conscious creatures, and we accordingly speak of a woman's bonnet, but not of a house's roof. — Mabsh. Obs. 25. — Whose as the possessive of which (neu- tei-) is therefore subject to criticism. The author asks credit for his having here and elsewhere re- sisted the temptation of substituting "whose" for "of which" — the misuse, of the said pronoun relative "whose," where the ante- cedent neither is nor is meant to be represented as either personal or even animal, he ■^^fould brand as one among the worst of the mimicries of poetic diction, by which imbecile writers fancy they elevate their prose — would but that to his vexation he meets with it of late in the compositions of men that least of all need such ar- tifices, and who ought to watch over the purity and privileges of their mother tongue with all the jealousy of high priests set apart by nature for the pontificate. Poor as our language is in termina- tions and inflections significant of the genders, to destroy the few it possesses is most wrongful. — Oolbbidqe. At present the use of whose, the possessive of who, is pretty gen- erally confined to persons or things personified, and we should scriiple to say, "I passed a house whose windows were open." — M.VESH. Sec. I.] WHOSE AND ITS. xlv Yet in "Man and K'ature" Mr. Marsh writes, " a quad- rangular pyramid, the perpendicular of whose sides " (p. 145). Campbell says: The, possessive of who is properly whose,' the pronoun which, originally indeclinable, had no possessive. This want was sup- plied in the common periphrastic manner, by the help of the preposition and the article. But as this could not fail to enfeeble the expression, when so much time was given to mere conjunc- tives, all our best authors, both in prose and in verse, have come now regularly to adopt in such cases the possessive of loho ; and thus have substituted one syllable in the place of three, as in the example following : " Philosophy, wlio^e end is to instruct us in the knowledge of nature," for, " Philosophy, the end of which is to instruct us." — Rhetoric, ii. 375. Its has a curious history, showing the prejudice that had to be overcome in establishing a neuter possessive. In Anglo-Saxon th.e personal pronoun represented in English by he, she, it, made the genitiveior poBBessive his Cor the miisculine and neuter gender, her (hire) for the feminine, and 80 long as grammatical gender had not an invariable relation to sex. the employment of a common form for the masculine and neuter excited no feeling of incongruity. The change in the grammatical significance of gender suggested the same embaiTassment with relation to the univei-sal application of his as of whose, and when this was brought into distinct consciousness a remedy was provided. At first, it was used as a possessive, without inflection or a preposition, and several instances of this occur in Shakspere, as also in Leviticus x\v. 6, of the Bible of 1611 : "That wbich growech of it own accord." Its, although to be found in printed books of a somewhat earlier date, is not once U3ed in that edition, his being in all cases but that just cited employed instead. The precise date and occasion of the first introduction of its is not ascertained, but it could not have been far from the year 1600. For a considerable period about the beginning of the seventeenth century, there was evidently a sense of incongruity in the application of ?ds to objects incapable of the dis- tinction of sex, and at the same time a reluctance to sanction the introduction of the new form its as a substitute. Accordingly, , for the first half of that century many of the best writers rejected them both, and T think English folios can be found which do not contain an example of either. Of if, thereof, and longer circumlocutions were preferred, or the very idea of the possessive relation was avoided altogether. . . . Fuller has itt in som" of his works, in others he reject'' it, and in the Pisgah Sight of Palesliine, printed in 1650, both forms are sometimes applied to a neuter noun in the course of a single sentfnce : &% " Whether from the violence of winds, then blowing on its stream, and angering it-beyond his banks."— Marsh. xlvi POSSESSIVES. [Part I. ObS. 26. — Wherever ambiguity, or awkwardness, would result from the use of the apostrophe (see p. 259), it is best to avoid the use of the possessive altogether. Thus, instead of " The bracelet was Carlotta-'s, the einpress," we may say : " The bracelet was that of Carlotta, the empress." This principle of avoidance is of wide application and very great usefulness. The trained wi-iter will often find that he cannot well handle the form of expression which first occurred to him ; and, being fertile in rhetorical expedients, will substitute for it an en- tirely different form, while the novice will waste time in vain attempts to make the original form graceful and appropriate. Much of the value of sound rhetorical instruction consists in the suggestion and exemplification of alternative forma of expres- sion of which we may avail ourselves in an emergency. — Gilmoee. Obs. 27. — Care must be taken not to put before a pos- sessive an adjective belonging to the thing possessed. Thus, not, Eed children's stockings, but, Children's red stock- ings; not. The familiar postman's knock, but, The postman's familiar knock. Compare : Even the philosophers sometimes have the laugh turned on them. Not long since, in the presence of Herbert Spen- cer, a little boy said : " What an awful lot of crows ! " The phi- losopher corrected the youth by saying, ' ' I have yet to learn, lit- tle master, that there is anything to inspire awe in such a bird as the crow." For once the author of "First Principles" had met his match. The boy replied, "But I didn't say there was; I didn't say what a lot of awful crows, but what an awful lot of crows!" Sound, for the boy. — Harper's Weekly. Exercise XIV. — In the following sentences change the possessives to prepositional phrafees, and the prepositional phi-ases to possessives. Example. — If we cannot perceive the manner of the poison of sin, no wonder if we cannot perceive the method of the antidote of grace. Sec. 1.] APPOSITIVES. xlvii If we cannot perceive the manner of sin's poison, no wonder if we cannot perceive the method of grace's antidote. — T. FtrLLEB. A Connecticut newspaper announces that " the barn and con- tents of Mr. Giles Potter of Essex was burned Thursday night." The young man did not want natural talents ; but the father of him was a coxcomb, who affected being a fine gentleman so un- mercifully that he could not endure in his sight, or the frequent mention of one who was his son gi-owing into manhood and thrust- ing him out of the gay world. — Campbemj. (3) Appositives result by condensation from descrip- tive clauses. Thus: John Adams, the President, is a shorter form for, John Adams, who was the President. / Obs. 28. — Apposition may be so used as to convert two sentences into one. Thus : We called at the house of a person to whom we had letters of introduction, a musician, and, what is more, a good friend to all young students of music. — Abbott. This is as clear as, He was a musician, etc., and is briefer. It would, however, be better to put a dash before " a musician." See page 271. Obs. 29. — Appositives should be placed near the nouns that they define. Exercise XV. — Correct the arrangement of the follow- ing sentences. Example. — Charles I., the king of England, was beheaded by Cromwell. Charles I. was beheaded by Cromwell, the king of England. Tom Thumb was exhibited by Barnum, the smallest man living. Dr. Kane deserves to rank with Livingston, the arctic explorer. The horse was scared by a snail, a nervous creatui-e. The shawl was worn by the governor's wife, made of camel's hair. xlviii PARTICIPLE NOUN MODIFIERS. [Part I. (4) Participles take the place of the subject and the predicate of a modifying clause, and often of the connec- tive, thus promoting brevity, but endangering precision. Obs. 30. — The participle should be so placed that the word it modifies be unmistakable. ExEECisE XYI.— Correct the following sentences. Example. — Entering so snddenly, I did not hear wliat you said. Or, if the other be the meaning, What you said on entering so suddenly, I did not hear. I did not hear what you said entering so suddenly. I saw an old school-fellow yesterday, when I was in New York, walking down Broadway. The deceased came to his death by excessive drinking produ- cing apoplexy in the minds of the Juiy. The jury rendered a verdict of death from suicide while labor- ing under insanity. The Gleaner is one of the finest and fastest boats on the Tyne. Her accommodations are in every respect good and comfortable, and her crew skilful, steady, and obliging, being newly painted and decorated for pleasure trips. Sir Charles Wetherell addressed the House for three hours . . . when, being fatigued by his exertions, their lordships adjourned to the following A&y.— British Almanac, 1836. In an old description of Albany, it is said, " The place contains some two or three hundred houses and twenty-five hundred in- habitants, all standing with their gable ends to the street.'' With this small force the general determined to attack the foe, flushed with recent victory, and rendered negligent by success. Adam, fii?t of men, To first of women. Eve, thus moving speech Turned him. — Milton*. Especial care should be taken not to omit the subject of the participle. The admiral was called upon to say whether he recognized in the body present the corpse of the Emperor Maximilian Sec. I.] AMBIGUOUS PHRASES. xlix Replying in the affirmative, the coffin was again closed. — Pall Mall Gazette. Being early killed, I sent a party in search of his mangled body. — Rough Notes of an Old Soldier. (Compare, If dead, his wife or children may apply.) In the Morning Chronicle's account of Lord Macaulay's funeral oocuiTed the following sentence : when placed upon the ropes over the grave, and while being gradually lowered into the earth, the organ again pealed forth. — Alford. Find other illustrations on pages 294, 295. Obs. 31. — The participial phrase should be resolved into a clause when the context leaves it doubtful whether the relation be when, while, though, that, or because. Abbott remarks of " Men walking on ice sometimes fall : " it is better to use " men walking " to mean " men wJien they walk." If the relative is meant, use "men that walk " instead of the participle. (1) mile he was ) „ . I (1) the rond K ^ „ ,<.( n ., f walking on \ )' ^. . } he fell. (2) Because he was J ( (2) the ice \ When the participle precedes the subject, it generally implies a cause : " Seeing this, he retired." Otherwise it generally has its proper participial meaning, e.g., " He retired, keeping his face to- ward us." If there is any ambiguity, write " on seeing," " at the same time, or while keeping." (1) Though he was i t (1) he nevertheless stood his ground. (2) Since he was > struck with terror < (2) he rapidly retreated. (3) ^he is ) ( (3) he will soon retreat. " Deserted by his friends, he was forced to have recourse to those who had been his enemies." Here, if we write, "He, de- serted by his friends, was forced," etc., he is unduly emphasized ; and if we write, " He was forced to have recourse to his enemies, having been deserted by his friends," the effect is very flat. Of course we might sometimes write, " He was deserted and forced," etc. But this cannot be done where the " desertion " is to be not stated but implied. 0I)3. 32. — The participle levng is, often omitted; as, 1 INFINITIVES AS MODIFIEES. [Part I. France at our doors, Jie sees no danger nigh, for, France heing at our doors, etc. (5) Infinitives used as adjective modifiers are in the form of appositives; as. The best course — to treat him kindly — occurred to me. He replied by a persistent refusal to enter Ms sei-vioe. He gave me advice how to behave. An invitation to pass the summer. It is to be noted in passing, that the English infinitive corre- sponds not only to the A.-S. infinitive, but also to the A.-8. gerund. The A.-S. infinitive was characterized by no separate sign, but by the termination -an. For example, Ivf-i-an, to love. The A.-S. gerund was a verbal noun ending in -anne or enne, and invariably preceded by the preposition to. For example, to lufigenne, for loving. These two forms were practically confounded through the influence of the Norman conquest — the terminations being dropped, and the sign to indifferently prefixed both to the infini- tive and the gerund. Hence, in many cases,what we now regard as an infinitive might, properly, be regarded as a relic of the A.-S. gerund. For example, "He is to blame," means, "He is for blaming," and need not be corrected into, " He is to be blamed." So also, " A house to let." — Gilmobb. (6) Preposition Phrases may be used to express almost every sort of relation. Obs. 33. — Care must be taken to employ the preposi- tion fixed upon by usage as appropriate to express a cer- tain relation. Usage, and that alone, determines our choice of prepositions ; and in language usage is perpetually changing. Influence into, contemporary to, and independent upon, once were good English ; and such synonymous to has been within the last hundred years. To sympathize in the misfortunes of another does not appear to us a whit stranger than it appeared in the days of Shenstone ; any sym- pathy in her general principles was the expression preferred by Cpleridge in 1800 ; and sympathies toward may claim the sanction Sec. I.] PREPOSITION PHRASES. li of Landor. Sympathy /yr has the consentient authority of Sterne, Gray, Burke, etc.— Fitzedwaed Hall. An educational journal thus describes the trouble a Frenchman had with the verb " break." *' I begin to undorstand your language better," eaid my French friend, Mr. Dubois, to me, " but your verbs trouble me still ; you mix them up so with prepositions." " I am fiorry you find them troublesome," was all I could say. '* I snvi' yonr friend Mrs. Murkeson, just now," he contijiued. " She says she intends to break down house-keeping ; am I right there ?" " Break up house- keeping, she must have taid." " Oh, yes, I remember ; break up house-keeping." '* Why does she do that ? " I asked. ''Because her health is broken into." " Broken down." '■Broken down? Oh, yes. And, indeed, since the small-pox has broken up in our city " "Broken out." " She thinks she will leave it for a few weeks." " Will she leave the house alone ? " " No, she is afraid it will be broken — broken— how do I say that ? " "Broken into." " Certainly, it is what I meant to say." " Is her son to be married soon ? " "No, that engagement is broken — broken " ■■' Broken ofE." "Yes, broken off." " Ah, I had not heard of that." "She is very sorry about it. Her son only broke the news down to her last week. Am 1 right? I am anxious to speak English well." '• He merely broke the news ; no preposition this time." " It is hard to understand. That young man, her son, is a fine young fellow ; a breaker, I think." " A broker, and a very fine yonng fellow. Good-day." So much for the verb "to break." A country editor, referring to visiting a family who gave him a meal, said : " We are indebted to Mr. and Mrs. , with whom we should be pleased for further acquaintance." This is about on a ,par with the young orator in a country debating club, who said : " Mr. Chairman, every community is divided into two classes — the educatedand the uneducated — one of whom I am which.'' Appropriate Prepositions. — The following list includes most of the phrases in which prepositions are commonly misused. It is made up from the tables in lii PREPOSITION PHEASES: [Part I. Worcester's Dictionary (pages xl., xli.), Angus's "Hand- book of the 'English Tongue " (pages 325, 326), and Camp- bell's " Hand-book of Synonyms and Prepositions" (pages 141-153). The last is especially recommended to those who would be exact in their use of prepositions, as it gives a multitude of quotations, illustrating the nicer distinc- tions. abhorrence of. abhorrent to. abound in, with, absolve from, accede to. accept (of). accommodate to (of things), with (of per- sons), accompanied by, with, accord with (neuter), to (transitive), accordance with, according to. accuse of, acquaint with, acquiesce in. acquit of. adapted to, for. adequate to. adhere to. admission to, into, admit to, into. (of), advantage of, over, advocate of, for. affinity to, \\'ith, between, agree with (a person). to (a proposal). upon (conditions). in (thinking). among (themselves), agreeable to. alien from, to. allied to, with, alter from, to, into, alteration in. ambitious of. amuse with, at. analogous to. analogy between, to, with, angry with (a person). at (a thing), antagonistic to. antagonism to, between, antipathy to, against, anxious for, about, applicable to, appoint to, over, apprehensive of. a|)propriate to. approve (of). argue with, against, array with, in. arrive at, in, from, ascertain from, ask of (a person ). for (a thing). after (to inquire), aspire to, after, assent to. assimilate to. astonished at. attend to (listen). upon (wait), attended bj-, with, to, on. avail one's self of. avenge one's self on. averse to. banish from. base on. upon. believe in, on. bestow upon. bound for. brag of. bump against. burn up, down, out, with. capable of. call on (a person), at (a house), in (question), after, by (name), care for, about, of. careful of, in. caution against (calamity). in (action), celebrated for. certain of. change for, with, to, into, from. charge (a crime) on, against (one), (one) with (a crime), (a trust) to (one), cheat of, out of, with, by. clear of (harm). from (guilt), coincide with, collide with, combine with, into, common to, with. communicate to (transitive), with (intransi- tive), compare with (for judg- ment), to (for illustration), comparison with, between, compatible with, complain of. complaint against^ of. compliance with, comply with, composed of. concerned at, for (a thing), with (a persoii). in (a proceeding), concur with (a pereon). in (an opinion), condole with (a person). for (a loss), confide in (intransitive). (a thing) to. conform to. conformable to. conformity with, to, congenial to. congratulate upon, connect with, to. connive with (a person). at (a thing), consist of, in (substance). with (harmony), consistent with, in. consider (of), consonant to, with, contend with (a person). for (a principle, ob- ject), against (an obsta- cle), contiguous to. contradictory to. contrary to. contrast with, to, between, controversy with (a person), about (a mat- ter), convenient to, for, conversant with, in, about, convert into, convict of. copy after (an example). Sex;. I.] APPROPRIATE PREPOSITIONS. liii copy from (nature), out of (a book), correspond with, to. correfipondence with, couple by, with, together, to, in. covered by, with, cure of. danger of, from, dated at, from, deal with, by. defend from, af?ainst. deference to, for. toward, deficient in. delighted by, at, with. in. deliver from, out of (trou- ble), over (a package), demand of, from, denounce npon, against, depend upon, dependent on. deprive of. derogate from, derogation to, from, of. derogatory to. deserve of, from (a person), desire for, of, after, desirous of. desist from, devolve on. die of. with, from, by. difiev among (themselves), from (oae another), from, with (in opin- ion), about, concerning (a question), difference with (a persoft). between (objects), different from, difficulty in. dilate upon, diminution of. direct to, toward, disagree with (a person). to (a proposition), disagreeable to. disappointed of (something not got). in (something got), disapprove (of), discontented with, discourage from, discouragement to. discriminate between (two things), (one) from (an- other), disdain for. disengaged from, disgusted with (a person). with, at, by (a thing). dislike to, of, disqualify for, from. dissent from, dissuade from, distinguished by, for, from. distinction from. divest of. divide between (two). amj simply sliding it gradually from the beginning to the end of the sentence. First, Only they forgot to observe, that, in the first ages of society, a successful war against savage animals is one of the most beneficial labors of heroism ; that is, they did some things well, but one thing not well — ithey forgot to observe, etc. Secondly, Tliey only forgot to observe, etc. ; that is, either they were the only persons who did so ; or, thirdly, they did not intentionally neglect the fact, they only forgot it. Fourthly, They forgot to observe that only in tii^firtit ages of society ; that is, there is but one period in the history of society in which the fact observed is true. Fifthly, They forgot to observe that, in the first ages only of society^ etc. ; that is, it is not true in the ages preceding organized social life. Sixthly, They forf^ot to observe, that, in the first ages of society, only a ttuccea^ul war against savage animals, etc.; that is, not war "whicli is a failure. Seventhly, They forgot to observe, that, in the first ages of society, a successful war only, against savage animals, etc.; that is, not a war for their preservation. Ixxxvi ADVERB MODIFIERS. [Past I. Eighthly, They forgot to observe, that, in the first ages ol society, a successful war against only savage animals, etc ; that is, not a war against animals of domestic use. Ninthly, They forgot to observe, etc., war against savage animals is only one of the most bene- ficial labors ; that is, there are other such labors of heroism. Tenthly, They forgot to observe, etc., a successful war against savage animals is one of only the mosi beneficial labors of heroism ; that is, it is not to be deemed a labor of inferior worth ; or. Eleventhly, They forgot to observe, etc., that such a war is one of only the most beneficial labors of heroism ; that is, it is not to be regarded as a pastime. Twelfthly, They forgot to observe, that, etc., is one of the most beneficial labors of heroism only ; that is, no virtue inferior to heroism is competent to the task. Here are no less than twelve distinct shades of thought, not all of them elegantly, not all precisely, but all perspicuously ex- pressed, with the aid of emphasis in the reading, by simply slid- ing one word from point to point from the beginning to the end of a sentence of twenty-four words. — Phelps. Carelessness. — The fact is, with respect to such adverbs as onli/, wholly, at least, and the rest of that tribe, that in common discourse the tone and emphasis we use in pronouncing them generally serves to show their reference, and to make the meaning clear ; and hence we acquire the habit of throwing them in loosely in the course of a period. But in writing, where a man speajks to the eye and not to the ear, he ought to be more accurate, and so to con- nect those adverbs with the words which they qualify as to put his Jiiea?\ing out of doubt upon the first inspection. — Blaie. People who have practised composition as much and with as vigilajit an eye as myseK know also, by thousands of cases, how Sec. I.] '^ONLY;" '-AS" AND "SO." Ixxxvii inflnite is the disturbance caused in the logic of a thought by the mere position of a word so despicable as the word " even." . . The station of a syllable may cloud the judgment of a council. — De Quincey. ExEEcisii; XXXIII. — Change the following sentences so as to convey the meaning intended. Example. — I shall give only one sentence more on this head. I shall only give one sentence more on this head. — Tj t.atr But though we were ten days in Naples I only saw one quarrel. — HoWBIiLS. A style of writing "which," as Junius said of the character of Sir William Draper, " will only pass without censure when it passes without observation." — Moon. Existing laws on the subject of insanity are mainly judicial, legislatures, not- having been able to formulate a statute on the question, only in the most vague and indefinite manner. — N. A. Review. (Here either not should be omitted, or only should be- come except.) . He could only live in agitation ; he could only breathe in a volcanic atmosphere. — Alison. When Napoleon's system of government became unfortunate alone, it was felt to be insupportable. — Alison. Obs. 56. — As and So are frequently misused. After Negatives. — In the best usage, so is used after a negative in preference to as ; thus, " I like him as well, but I do not like her so well." The negative may be only implied ; as, " There are few that could do so much," which is equivalent to " There are not many that .' Art may, in the execution, be as poUshed and delicate as na- ture ; but in the design can never show- herself so august and magnificent. — Blaib. Mistaken for Conjunctions. — Care must be taken to avoid the ambiguity of placing a« where it might be either an adverb or a conjunction. Jxxxviii ADVERB MODIFIERS. [Pabt I. Thus, " For though they may appear as beautiful or strange." — Addibon. Here the meaning may be that they appear as beauti- ful or as strange as somethiug else appears ; or that they appear as beautiful or strange, and not as commonplace or familiar. ExEBCisE XXXIV. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — I did not think it so bad as that. I did not think it as bad as that. I have been as idle since, but never as happy. — Esmond. He was not as prosperous or as contented. She seemed as intelligent. Obs. 57. — At Least is a phrase often used am- biguonsly. Thus, " I think you will find my Latin exercises at hast as good as my cousin's." Does this mean (1) "my Latin exercises, though not perhaps my other exercises," or (2) " though not very good, at least as good as my cousin's?" Write for (1) "At least my Latin exercises you will find;" for j(2) "I think you will find my Latin exercises as good as my cousin's, at least." — Abbott. (2) Preposition Phrases. (See page 1.) (3) The Participle Phrase, when modifying the predicate, as when modifying the subject, is often a source of ambiguity unless carefully placed. Thus : A Senior distinguished himself yesterday by killing a huge rat while sunning himself in the gutter on Lake Street. Eev. Dr. Harris, sir, having been elected president by the unani- mous vote of the boards of trustees and overseers of Bowdoin Col- lege, I come on their behalf to induct you, etc. — Quoted by PhBIjPS. Don't repeat anecdotes, good or bad. A very good thing be- comes foolishness after hearing it several times. — BonH ; a Manual of Mi/stakes. Few need to be informed that one Herod caused to be slaugh- tered the babes of Bethlehem, commonly called " The Slaughter of the Innocents." — Popular Rhetoric. Sec. I.] ARRANGEMENT OP PHRASES. Ixxxix Found — Evidently t)y mistake a package was put in my carriage while standing in Payette Street, supposing it was left by my wife, but found it was not ours. The owner can have the same by calling at No. 6 Sabey Place and proving property and paying for this advertisement. John Baynor. Aeeangembnt of Phrases. An Absolute Phrase should stand at the beginning of the sentence ; as, The king being dead, a dispute arose as to the succession. Note V. — The absolute phrase is set off from the rest of the sen- tence by a comma, Obs. 58. — Priority among adverbial modifiers fol- lows the general order of first those of Time, then those of Place, last those of Manner. Thus, " Married, Sept. 8, 1883, in Syracuse, N. Y., by the Eev. S. S. Smith, Henry K. Wilkes and Emma F. Lane." The law of PBiOKrri rests upon certain distinct and important considerations. The first is that, on the most general principle of construction, the qualification should precede the thing qualified. In our language, this is the usage with the adjective, and to a con- siderable extent with the adverb. Hence, if a qualification hes be- tween two words, and is not specially excluded from the one that precedes, the mere principle of Order would make us refer it to the one that follows ; we always by pijeference look forward. Another important circumstance connected with Priority is that a qualifying adjunct bears upon all that follows, until there is a break. It is not simply the word or phrase immediately following, but the entire group of circumstances up to the end of the sen- tence, or at least to a comma pause. — Bain. In poetry, and occasionally in impassioned prose, a series of adverbial modifiers may be accumulated before the verb ; as. High on a throne of royal state which far Outshone the wealth of Ormuz and of Ind. Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric gold and pearl, Satan exalted B3.t,~ Paradiae Lost, XC ADVERB MODIFIERS. [Part I. Deep in the shady sadness of a vale, Fax sunken from the healthy breath of mom, Far from the fiery sun and eve's one star, Sat gi-ay-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone. — Hyperion. ( Sometimes the sentences are beyond cure by mere re- ■■ arrangement, and demand rebuilding with new materials. A new stone building has been erected at an expense of $1,200 so as to divide the inmates into compartments. After partaking of a hearty breakfast, the balloon was brought into town amidst the cheers of the inhabitants. — Quoted by Alford. Obs. 59. — Usnally adverbial elements should be scat- tered, to make the sentence flow without pauses. Thus, Helps describes a river as "flowing with equable current busily by great towns." He might have said, "with equable cur- rent flowing busily by great towns." When the number of circumstances and qualifications to be in- cluded in the sentence is great, the most judicious course is neither to enumerate them all before introducing the idea to which they belong, nor to put this idea first and let it be remodelled to agree with the particulars afterward mentioned ; but to do a little of each. Take a case. It is desirable to avoid so extremely direct an arrangement as the following : We came to our journey's end. at last^with no small difficulty, after much fatigue, through deep roads, and bad weather. Yet, to transform this into an entirely indirect sentence would not produce a satisfactory effect ; as witness : At last, with no small difficulty, after much fatigue, through deep roads, and bad weather, we came to our journey's end. Dr. Whately, from whom we quote the first of these two arrange- ments, proposes this construction : At last, after much fatigue, through deep roads and bad weather, we came, with no smairdifficulty, to our journey's end. Here it will be observed that by introducing the words "we came " a little earlier in the sentence, the labor of carrying forward so many particulars is diminished, and the subsequent qualification Sec. 1.J ARRANGEMENT OF PHRASES. xci " with no small diflBculty " entails an addition to the thought that is very easily made. But a further improvement may be produced by introducing the words " we came " still earlier ; especially if at the same time the qualifications be rearranged in conformity with the principle already explained, that the more abstract elements of the thought should come before the more concrete. Observe the better effect obtained by making these two changes : At last, with no small difficulty, and after much fatigue, we came, through deep roads and bad weather, to our journey'R end. This reads with comparative smoothness ; that is, with less hin- drance from suspensions and reconstructions of thought — with less mental eflfort. — Hebbbrt Spencer. (See also pages 277, 278.) Obs. 60. — In placing or scattering adverbial phrases, care must be taken not to separate the modifier so far from the word modified as to produce ambiguity. Exercise XXXY. — Correct the use of modifiers in the following sentences (see also those on page lix). Example. — Rome once more ruled over the prostrate nations bi/ the power of super- stition. This may mean either of two things— (1) that Rome had at a former time ruled over the nations " by the power of superstition," and now resumed that power ; (3) that Rome had formerly ruled over the nations by some other power — that of conquest, or of impe- rial influence — and now did so by a different power, that of superstition. The sentence, as it stands, most naturally bears the -former construction. To convey the latter mean- ing it should stand thus; " Rome, by the power of superstition, once more ruled over the prostrate nations. " Martha Grant attempted to force the collection of twenty-five cents from Sally Jones for making a dress by the use of an axe and a razor. Erected to the memory of John Phillips, accidentally shot as a mark of affection by his brother. We should be employed in doing good to our fellow-men daily. The highwnyman not only robbed the gentleman, but eyen the lady. Man not only desires to be loved, but to be lovely. The Romans understood liberty at least as well as we. We admit onr total inability to remedy the evil sorrowfully. To man has been given the power of speech only. The memoirs of his father sufficiently appear to repel those accusations. They are men who nobly know how to die. He almost found fault with every one, at all events of the poet's minor pieces. Philosophers have been at a loss, to explain always the secret of the strange power, which patriotic tunes exeicise over the armies of nations. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Composition, p. xvii. The Subject, p. xvii. Ex. I.— Supply subjects, p. xviii. Obs. 1 . - Position of subject, p. xix. Obs. 3. — Position varied for emphasis, p. xx. Obs. 3.— Precision, p. xxi. Ex. II. — Putting predicate before subject, p. xxiii. Ex. III. — Variation for emphasis, p. xxiii. Obs. 4. — Summafrizing a long subject, p. xxiv. Tlie Object, p. xxiv. Ex. IV. — Supply objects, p. xxiv. Obs. 5. — Verbal nouns to be avoided, p. xxiv. Ex. V. — Verbal nouns changed to phrases, p. xxiv. Modifiers of Subject and Object, p. xxv. ADJECTIVES, p. xxv. Dbsceiptivb, p. xxv. Ex. VI.' — Supplying adjectives, p. xxv. Obs. 6. — Fitting adjectives, p. xxvi. Ex. VII. — Substituting fit adjectives, p xxvii. Forms in Gom/pa/rison, p. xxviii. Obs. 7. — Comparative degree, when applicable, p. xxviii. Obs. 8. — Superlative degree, when applicable, p. xxix. Ex. Vin. — Comparison wrongly used, p. xxix. Obs. 9. — The superlative of two dual forms, p. xxx. Ex. IX. —Superlative for comparative, p xxxi. Obs. 10. — Adverbs used for adjectives, p. xxxi. Ex. X. — Escaping use of adverbs as adjectives, p. xxxii Obs. 11. — Adjectives usually precede, p. xxxiii. Obs. 13. — Sometimes adjectives follow, p. xxxiv. Obs. 13. — Adjective and its modifiers separated, p. xxxiv. Demonstrative, p. xxxv. Definite, p. xxxv. ' DefiniU Article, p. xxxv. Obs. 14. — When articles are to be repeated, p. xxxy. Ex, XI. — Repeating articles and adjectives, p. xxxvi. Ex. XII. - Meaning shown by articles, p. xxxvi. Obs. 15. — Article repeated for emphasis, p. xxxvi. Obs. 16. — The first two, p. xxxvii. Sec. I.] ANALYSIS. xciil This and That, p. xxxviii. Obs. 17. — Couples for distinguisMng, p. xxxviii. Indefinite, p. xl. Indefinite Artide, p. xl. Obs. 18. — Not to be used to denote the whole, p. xli. Numeral, p. xlii. Cardincds, p. xlii. Obs. 19. — When to spell numbers, p. xlii. Obs. 30. — Use of collective words, p. xlii. Ex. XIII.— Correcting expressions of number, p. xlii. Ordinala, p. xlii. Obs. 21. — Position of the th, p. xlii. Obs. 33. — Choice between cardinals and ordinals, p. xliii. POSSESSIVES, p. xliii. Obs. 33. — No objective genitive in English, p. xliii. Obs. 34. — Possessive a relation of persons, p. xliv. Obs. 25. — " Whose " as a neuter often condemned, p. xliv. Obs. 26. — Ambiguous possessives avoided, p. xlvi. Obs. 37. — Adjectives and possessives, p. xlvi. Ex. XIV. — Possessives changed to phrases, p. xlvi. APPOSITIVES, p. xlvii. Obs. 38. — ^Two sentences made one, p. xlvii. Obs. 39. — Appositives to be near their nouns, p. xlvii. Ex. XV. — Arrangement of appositives, p. xlvii. PARTICIPLES, p. xlviii. Obs. 30. — Position of Participle, p. xlviii. Ex. XVI. — Changing position of participle, p. xlviii. Obs. 31. — Participle resolved into clause, p. xlix. Obs. 33. — ^The participle "being" omitted, p. xlix. INFINITIVES, p. 1. PEEPOSITION PHRASES, p. 1. Obs. 83 — Selection of the appropriate one, p. 1. Table of appropriate prepositions, p. li. Ex. XVII. —Replacing inappropriate prepositions, p. Iv. Obs. 34. — Wrong insertions or omissions, p. Iv. Ex. XVIII. — Prepositions removed or inserted, p. Iv. Obs. 35. — Repetition of prepositions, p. Ivi. Obs. 86. — Prepositions after conjunctions, p Ivii. Ex. XIX. — Repetition of prepositions, p. Ivii. Obs. 37. — Position of preposition phrases, p Iviii. Ex. XX. — Position of preposition phrases, p Iviii. Obs. 88. — Two prepositions with one object, p. lix. Obs. 39. — Splitting of particles, p. Ix. Ex. XXI. — Rearrangement to avoid suspense, p. Ixii. ADVERBIAL PHRASES, p. Ixii. CLAUSES. (See Complex Sentences, pages cix-cxii)S p. Ixii. The Predicate, p. Ixii. Ex. XXII.— Completing sentences, p. Ixiii. Ex. XXIII. — Supplying predicates, p. Ixiv. xciv Analysis. [Pabt 1. Auxiliaries, p. Ixiv. Obs. 40. — Do and did as expletives, p. Ixiv. Obs. 41.— Distinction between shall and will, p. Ixv. (a) — In affirmative sentences, p Ixv. Ex. XXIV.— Corrections in the same, p. Ixvl. (b)— In interrogative sentences, p. Ixvii. Ex. XXV.— Corrections in the same, p. Ixx. Obs. 43. — Distinction between would and should, p. Ixx. Ex. XXVI. — General correction of auxiliaries, p. Ixxi. Obs. 43.— Subtle nses of shall, will, etc., p. Ixxii. Obs. 44. — May distinguished from can, p. Ixxiii. Ex. XXVII. — Meaning of auxiliaries, p. Ixxiii. The Indirect Object, p. Ixxiv. Obs. 45. — Series of infinitives ambiguous, p. Ixxv. Obs. 46 — The infinitive of purpose, p Ixxv. Ex. XXVIII. —Ambiguity shown and avoided, p. Ixxv. Modifiers of tl^e Predicate, p. Ixxvi. ADVERBS, p. Ixxvii. Obs. 47. — Care required in inserting adverbs, p. Ixxvi. Ex. XXIX. — Arrangement of adverbs, p. Ixxvi. Obs. 48. —Adverbs usually precede, p Ixxvi. Obs. 49. — When emphatic, the adverb follows, p. Ixxvii. Obs. 50. — Adverbs before participles, p. Ixxvii. Obs. 51. — Modifiers of special words next to them, p. Ixxviii. Obs. 52. — Not connected with part denied, p. Ixxviii. Denial of the subject, p. Ixxviii. Universal, p. Ixxviii. Partial, p. Ixxx. Denial of the predicate, p. Ixxx. Denial of a modifier, p. Ixxxi. Ex. XXX. — Transferring negation, p. Ixxxii. Obs. 53. -^Double negatives, p. Ixxxii, Ex. XXXI. — Correction of negatives, p. Ixxxiii. Obs. 54. — Negative sentences made affirmative, p Ixxxiii. Ex. XXXII. — Transforming negative into affirmative sen- tences, p. Ixxxiv. Obs. 55. — " Only'" placed near word qualified, p. Ixxxiv. Ex. XXXIII. — Changing position of '■^onVy" p. Ixxxvii. Obs. 56. — As and so frequently misused, p. Ixxxvii. Ex. XXXIV. — Corrections of as and so, p. Ixxxviii. Obs. 57. — "At least" used ambiguously, p. Ixxxviii. PREPOSITION PHRASES, p. Ixxxviii. PARTICIPLE PHRASES, p. Ixxxviii. Arrangement of Phrases, p. Ixxxix. ABSOLUTE PHRASES, p. ixxxix. PRIORITY, p. ixxxix. Obs. 58. — (1) Time, (2) place, (3) manner, p Ixxxix. Obs. 59. — Scattering modifiers, p. xc. Obs. 60. — Scattering not to produce ambiguity, p. xci. Ex. XXXV. — Correction of use of modifiers, p. xci. SECTION SECOND. COMPLEX SENTENCES. A Complex Sentence is one in whicli a subordinate sentence is used eitlier as the Subject, as the Object, as the Predicate, or as a Modifier. (For convenience, sentences in which one member begins with " if " are in this vohmie treated as Compound Sentences, though often considered Complex.) Hence, the Subordinate Sentence must be one of three liiuds: (1) a JSToun Sentence, (2) an Adjective Sentence, or (3) an Adverb Sentence. Note. —The Predicate may be made up of a Copula and a Noun Sentence ; as, All things are not what they seem. (I) Noun Sentences occupy the place and follow the construction of nouns, aud may therefore be either (a) the Subject, (b) the Object, (c) the Indirect Object, or (d) the Predicate of the principal sentence. Though usually introduced by that, they sometimes begin without it. Thus, (a) That a historian should not record trifles, is perfectly true. — MACAtJiiAY. Whatever is, is right. That you have wronged me, doth appear in this. ' ' ^ (b) She knew that his heart was darkened with her shadow. — Bybon. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look that threatened her with in- sult. — BcEiCE. I perceive you feel the dint of pity. xcvi NOUN SENTENCES. [PakT 1. (c) I was taught in my youth that to know how to wait is the secret of success. (d) I am not what I used to be. ' Exercise XXXVI.— Point out the ISToun, the Adjec- tive, and the Adverb sentences in the following exercise, and tell how each is used. Example.— She is eight years old, is a noun sentence, used as the object of said. She was eight years old, she said. What you say is true. The dog is where it ought to be. What touches us ourselves shall be last served. Tes ! thy proud lords, unpitied land ! shall see That man hath yet a soul. That malice, not repentance, brought thee hither. Doth in this appear. That is what I told you. I fear our purpose is discovered. That they are free, they know. Man cannot cover what God would reveal. That some one had blundered soon became apparent. By my word, the Saxon said, The riddle is already read. You said the enemy would not come down. Thalj they escaped, unhurt seems a miracle. I trow they did not part in scorn. Exercise XXXVII. — Fill the following blanks by in- serting Noun Sentences : Young people too often imagine . I promise to do . 'No one can deny . It is easy to prove . His excuse for not being present was . A glance at the map of Europe will show us . Time will discover . Leaves are to plants . His courage and success illustrate the proverb . has been called the golden ' rule, requires no demonstration. Sec. II.] DIRECT AND INDIRECT QUOTATIONS. xcvii The king could not understand . I am more willing to give , than to ask . doth appear in this. When the trial is concluded, we shall know . We believe , and . It has. often been obseryed . is right. After the accident, the children gathered round their father, and asked . He complains of our being late, but he did not tell us . I have tried every means, but I cannot discover . is a traitor. Though we have sought him everywhere, we cannot tell . Obs> 61. — When the noun sentence is (a) a Direct Quotation, or (b) is preceded by an interrogative pronoun, no connecting particle is required. Thus, (a) Buflfon used to say, " Genius is patience." " Genius is common sense intensified," is another definition, (b) I know not who you are, or what you want. Obs> 62. — Even when a speech is reported in the third person, it often adds life, and sometimes adds clear- ness, to omit the that. Thus, "He said he took it ill," or, "He took it ill, he said," is better than " He said that he took it ill." Obs. 63. — Dependent clauses introduced bj that must be kept clear from those that are independent. * Thus, " He replied that he wished to go, and intended to get ready," may mean, " He replied .... and he intended, "or, " and that he intended." ExEECtsE XXXVIII. — Change the following passages from the Direct to the Indirect mode of speech. Example. — I said within myself that I had behaved very ill, but that I had only just set out on my travels, and should learn better manners as I got along. "I have behaved very ill," said I within myself; "but I have only just set out on my travels, and shall le?irp. better manners as I get along." xcviii NOUN SENTENCES. [Part I. " The virtue of prosperity," says Lord Bacon, "is temperance ; the virtue of adversity is fortitude.'' "I trust," said Lord Brougham, "that at length the time is come when Parliament will no longer bear to be told that slave- owners are the best law-givera on slavery." "English ladies," says Erasmus, "are divinely pretty and too good-natured." Cato the Censor eonoluded all his speeches in the Roman Sen- ate with the words, " Carthage must be destroyed." Agis, King of the Spartans, on being asked how many men he had, confidently replied, " Enough to put the enemy to flight." "When Alexander commanded the people to give him divine honors, the Spartans replied, " Since Alexander wishes to be called a god, let him be a god." When Xerxes summoned the little army of Leonidas to lay down their arms, they retorted in scorn, ' ' Let him come and take them. " On discovering the principle of specific gravity, Archimedes rushed out of his bath, exclaiming, " I have found it ! " Dr. Guillotin, in describing his beheading machine, afterward called the guillotine, said, " With my machine I whisk off your head in a twinkling, and you feel no pain." When the Chesapeake was boarded by the crew of the Shannon, the gallant Captain Lawrence fell exclaiming, " Don't give up the ship ! " On reading Macaulay's "History of England," Sydney Smith remarked : " I wish I knew anything as well as Macaulay thinks he knows everything." At Worms, as at Augsburg, Luther replied briefly : "I will re- tract when my doctrines are not merely declared to be false, but are proved to be so." On seeing the formidable Chateau Gaillard rise. King Philip exclaimed in wrath, "I would take it, were its walls of iron." "I would hold it, were its walls of butter," was the defiant answer of King Eichard. "I cannot, my Lords," said the Earl of Chatham, " I will not join in congratulation on misfortune and disgrace. This, my Lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment. It is not a time for adula- jtion ; t^e smoothness of flattery cannot save us in this rugged and Sec. II.] DIRECT AND INDIRECT QUOTATIONS. XCIX awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the throne in the language of truth." He said with great emphasis, " I assure you there is scarce a poet or historian among the Eoman orators." "If it feed nothing else," said Shylock, "it will feed my re- venge." I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, — Cowper. I have had playmates, I have had companions. In my days of childhood, in my joyful school days. — Lamb, King Charles wrote to Prince Kupert in the following terms : "First, I must congratulate with you for your good successes, assuring you that the things themselves are no more welcome to me than that you are the means. I know the importance of sup- plying you with powder, for which I have taken all possible ways, and have sent both to Ireland and Bristol." The Marquis rose and said : "Nor is it of the insufficiency of any future evidence only, that I complain. Even of the past I must express my fear that much must be obliterated, and the whole rendered obscure from the various lapses of time since it was delivered." Mr. Burke said : " Let me for a moment quit my delegated character, and speak entii-ely from my personal feelings and con- viction. I am known to have bad much experience of men and manners — in active life, and amidst occupations the most various ! From that experience I now protest, I never knew a man who was bad, fit for service that was good ! There is always some dis- qualifying ingredient mixing and spoiling the compound." Mr. Fox, assuming the language of the unfortunate prince, ex- claimed : "I was the sovereign of a fertile country, happy and beleved ; I endeavored to conciliate the friendship of all around me, and, asuj, thought, with a success which impressed me with every sensation of felicity. This was the situation of which I boasted ; but what is now the reverse ? I am a wretched exile, dependent on the bounty of those who were my enemies, but whose enmities are now buried in their sympathy for my distresses. What have I done to deserve this punishment ? " C NOUN SENTENCES. [Part I. Exercise XXXIX. — Change the following sentences from the Indirect to the Direct form. Example. — The sage magistrate said: "Beef is the king of meat ; beef comprehends in it the essence of partridge, and quail, and venison, and pheasant, and plum-pudding, and custard." The sage magistrate said that beef is the king of meat ; that beef comprehends in it the essence of partridge, and quail, and venison, and pheasant, and plum-pudding, and custard. Before the great battle which closed his brilliant career, Nelson displayed his famous signal, that England expected every man that day to do his duty. Douglas told Hotspur that he would carry his pennon into Scotland, and fix it on the tower of his Castle of Dalkeith, that it might be seen from far. The Bruce kept looking at his weapon, which was injured by the force of the blow, and said that he had broken his good battle- axe. Pompey told Lucius Sylla that it was vain to oppose him, for men worshipped the rising rather than the setting sun. A short time before his death, Cardinal "Wolsey said that if he had been as diligent to serve his God as he Iiad been to please his king, He would not have forsaken' him in his gray hairs. Archimedes said that if a fulcrum and a point to stand on were given him, he would move the world with his lever. Alexander the Great, on being asked why he did not contend in the Olympic Games, said that he would do so when he had kings for his competitors. When Pyrrhus had shown the utmost fondness for his expedi- tion against the Eomans, Cyneas, his chief ministei", asked him what he proposed to himself by the war. Pyrrhus said that he meant to conquer the Eomans and reduce all Italy to his obedi- ence. Cyneas asked, what then. Pyn-hus said that he would pass over into Sicily, and that then all the Sicilians must be their sub- jects. Cyneas asked what his Majesty intended next. The King replied that he meant to conquer Carthage and make himself master of all Africa. Then the minister asked what was to be the end of all his expeditions ; and the King said that for the rest of Sec. II.] ADJECTIVE SENTENCES. ci their lives they would sit down to good wine. Oyneas then asked if they could have better than they had then before them, or if they had not already as much as they could drink. (2) Adjective Sentences occupy the place and follow the construction of adjectives (see page xxv). They are all connected with the principal sentence by relatives, or such equivalent words as when, why, how, etc. ; though when the relative is in the objective case it may be omit- ted without confusion ; as, " The message you gave me I have told him." And made ub lose the good we oft might win. — J/fioswre/or Measure. Blair, criticising Addison, says : "In conclusion, instead of [it gives] the things it represents, the regularity of correct style re- quires the things which it represents." But the sentanoe is better without the correction. ExEECiSE XL. — Fill the following blanks by inserting Adjective Sentences. Example. — Alfred the Great was one of the wisest monarchs that have ever reigned. Alfred the Great was one of the wisest monarchs — -. Botany is the science — . A metal — is said to be ductile. The earth — is a globe or sphere. The age — has been called the era of inven- tions. Elasticity is that property — . The man — shows prudence. The Nile is one of those rivers — . He received the reward — . The flowers — have all faded. Offices of trust should be conferred only on those — . Autumn is the season — . Trafalgar was the en- gagement — . France is the oountiy, where — . The structure of the camel is wonderfully adapted to the countries — . The prisoner confessed the crimes — . The storm — passed away without harm. I should not like to be the man — . The house — has been burnt. I have often wished to revisit the place — . The clergyman — died yesterday at the very hour- — . He could not have anticipated the fate — . The motives — are difficult to understand. John Wycliffe — died in 138i, We had not proceeded far when a shower over- Cll ADJECTIVE SENTENCES. [Part I. took us — . The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle — was concluded in 1748. He — need not hope for that success — . The statement — does not agree with that — . They — cannot look for the protection of the government — . Obs. 64. — In poetry and in colloquial prose the rel- ative is sometimes omitted when a nominative. Thus, 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robe.s the mountaiii in its azure hue. — Campbell. Obs. 65. — A blimdei' as common as it is absurd is the insertion of and before adjective sentences. Thus : The principal and distinguishing excellence of Virgil, and which, in my opinion, he possesses above all others, etc. — Blaib. Obs. 66. — A. general rule for adjective sentences is to place the relative as near as possible to its antecedent. This is an application of the rule of proximity that, Obs. 67. — Pronouns should follow the nouns to which they refer without the intervention of another noun. Ambiguity from the neglect of this rule is shown in the follow-- ing sentences (see others on pages 291-294) : King John of France was led in triumph through the streets of London b}' the Black Prince, the son of Edward HI., who had defeated him, and taken him prisoner, at the battle of Poictiers. Any one unacquainted with the historical facts would be doubt- ful, from the construction of this sentence, whether it was the Black Prince or his father that had taken John prisoner. The fol- lowing arrangemerifWould remove the ambiguity : ' ' King John of France, who had been defeated and taken prisoner at Poictiers by the Black Prince, the son of Edward III., was led in triumph through the streets of London by his conqueror." Many clergymen act so directly contrary to this method, that, from a habit of saving time and papei-, which they acquired at the Sec. II. J RELATIVE CLAUSES. eiii university, they write in so diminutive a manner that they are hardly able to go on. — Swipt. To the groijp of Dinosaurs belongs the Inquenadon of the Wealden beds, first made known by Dr. Mantelly, whose body was 28 to 30 feet long.— Dana. When, however, one of two preceding nouns is decidedly supe- rior to the other in emphasis, the more emphatic may be presumed •to be the noun referred to by the pronoun, even though the noun of inferior emphasis intervenes. Thus : " At this moment the col- onel came up and took the place of the wounded general. He gave orders to halt." Here he would naturally refer to colonel, though genm-al intervenes. A conjunction will often show that a pronoun refers to the subject of the preceding sentence, and not to another intervening noun. " The sentinel at once took aim at the approaching soldier, and fh-ed. He then retreated to give the alarm. " — Abbott. ExEECisE XLI. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — This is a glorioiis scene, which cannot be surpassed. This is a glorious scene, and which cannot be surpassed. In fact, scarcely anything of Milton's poetic diction has become obsolete, except some un-English words and phrases ot his own coinage, and which failed to get admittance at all. — Mabsh. To head a sect, to infuse party-spirit, to make men arrogant, un- charitable, and malevolent, is the easiest task imaginable, and to which almost any blockhead is fully equal. — CampbeiiL. Find error in quotation from E. G. White, page Ixxii. I with my family reside in the parish of Stockton, which con- sists of my wife and daughters. — Quoted by Alfobd. The most interesting news from Italy is that of the trial of the thieves who robbed the bank of Messrs. Parodi, at Genoa, on May 1, 1862, in open daylight, which commenced at Genoa on the Bth. —Id. A child was run ptie);,by a wagon three yejursi old and cross-eyed with pantalets on which never spoke afterward. A child eighteen months old tumbled into a well used to catch rain-water that fell headlong into the front area of the house and came near drowning, there being about two feet in the well. We have received a bunch of grapes from our friend Williams, civ ADJECTIVE SBNTE.VCES. [Part I. for which he will please receive our compliments, some of which are nearly two inches in diameter. The hotel will be kept by the widow of the former landlord, Mr. Brown, who died last summer on a new and improved plan. A Howard may look upon scenes with a stoical composure, nay with a seeming hard-heartedness, which at first dissolved him in tears. — Qood Words. Frank S. Fay, of Meriden, Conn., is busy picking out shot from his face that was in- tended for a rabbit. His friend, E. C. Birdsey, who was hunting with him on Thursday, got Fay in range with the game. — N. Y. Sun. Questions suggest themselves as to how the reporter knew that Frank Fay's face was intended for a rabbit, and how it became misplaced. The committee would further reconimend that the south room should have new furniture, as the rear seats have all the year been occupied by children that have no backs. They lay down to rest behind their steeds, picketed to the wall which had accompanied themfromthe Volga to the Don. — Aiiisou. Obs. 68. — The antecedent must be either a noun, a p'onoun, or an infinitive — never an adjective. Thus sentences like the following are incorrect (see also page cxivj : Some men are too ignorant to be humble, without which there can be no docility and no progress. — Bbrkklbt. Obs. 69. — Awkwardness results when the antecedent is implied in a possessive case not close to the relative, es- pecially if the possessive be a pronoun. Thus : This way will direct you to a gentleman's house, that hath the skill to take off these burdens ; better, to the house of a gentle- man that hath skill, etc. I am liis first-born son that wa£ the last That wore the imperial diadem of Rome. — TUus Andronicus. Obs. 70. — Avoid constructions in which the relative may refer either to a noun in a preceding clause, or to the entire clause. Sec. II.] RELATIVE CLAUSES. ev I have before remarked, and the remark deserves to be repeated, that nothing is a more certain sign of careless composition than to make such relatives as which not refer to any precise expression, but carry a lower and vague relation to the general strain of what had gone before. — Blaib. Thus : There was a public house next door which was a great nuisance. Here it is doubtful whether the obnoxious fact is the existence of the public house, or its position. This am- biguity is common after a negative. Tlius : He said that he would not hear me, which I confess I had ex- pected. Here the meaning may be either tliat I had expected or that I had not expected he would. To avoid such ambiguity the antecedent should be re- peated in some new form. Thus : There was a public house next door, the proximity of which was a grfeat nuisance ; or. There was a public house next door, the existence of which was a great nuisance. He said that he would not even hear me, a favor I confess I had expected ; or. He said that he would not even hear me, a refusal I confess I had expected. Exercise XLII. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — an accident which broke the gates down and alarmed the neighborhood. At four o'clock yesterday morning a lot of wood piled in a shed at No. 144 Eastern Avenue, belonging to the B. Hub Co., fell down with a loud noise which broke the gates down and alarmed the neighborhood. The ten high windows have been filled with colored glass, which lends a subdued religious radiance to. the enth-e interior. cvi ADJECTIVE SENTENCES. [Part L Precision imports pruning the expression so as to exhibit neither more nor less than an exact copy of his idea who uses it. — Blaik. Obs. 7 I . — ^^When the relative is either implied (in a participle), or repeated, the antecedent must often be repeated also. Thus: But if there were in any part of the world a national church re- garded as heretical by four-flfths of the nation committed to its care ; a church established and maintained by the sword ; a church producing twice as many riots as conversions ; a church which, though possessing great wealth and power, and though long backed by persecuting laws, had, in the course of many genera- tions been found unable to propagate its doctrines, and barely able to maintain its ground ; a church so odious that fraud and violence, when used against its clear rights of property, were gen- erally regarded as fair plaj ; a church whose ministers were preach- ing to desolate walls, and with difficulty obtaining their lawful sustenance by the means of bayonets — such a church, on our principles, could not, we must own, be defended. — {Quoted ly Abbott.) Obs. 72. — Avoid " the sin of which-Q,v&it " — the em- ployment of which to introduce heterogeneous clauses. Every repetition of the relative introduces a new possibil- ity of ambiguity. (See example, page 292.) ' The following example, though perfectly grammatical, is felt to be veiy awkward : "The King marched from Exeter into Cornwall, which having pacified, he returned to Winchester.'' Better " which he pacified; he then returned to Winchester ; " or, "and having pacified this county, he returned." They leave us The dangers, the repulses, judgmentp, wants; Wiich. how long will you bear ? — Ben Jonson. A daring inversion. The relative is close upon the antecedent ; but objection may be taken to the position of the interrogative word after it. Yet the infrequency of the construction gives it great emphasis ; and we may regard it as a sudden and direct Sec. 11 ] RELATIVE CLAUSES. cvii rhetorical stroke for " which you wii] surely not bear much longer." So glistcr'd the dire snake, and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, etc. Wfiidi when she saw, thus to her guide she spake. The Latin construction Quae quum, etc., is apt to get translated in this form, which is not common, and should not be encouraged. — Bain. Exercise XLIII. — Correct the following sentences : The sharks who prey upon the inadvertency of young heirs are more pardonable than those who trespass upon the good opinion of those who treat them upon the foot of choice and respect. — Guardian. One may have an air which proceeds from a just sufficiency and knowledge of the matter before him, which may naturally produce some motion of his head and body, which might become the bench better than the bar. — Guardian. The Earl of Falmouth and Mr. Coventry were rivals who should have most interest with the duke, who loved the earl best, but thought the other the wiser man, who supported Pen (who dis- pbliged all the courtiers), even against the earl, who contemned Pen. — LoBD Clarendon's Life. Obs. 73. — The relative should be who or which where the meaning is cmd he, and it, etc., for he, for it, etc. ; otherwise it should be that, if euphony allows. There is a marked distinction between adjective sentences where the relative who, etc., is divisible into the demonstrative with some conjunction, and he, for he, etc., and where the relative is in- divisible. The divisible relative merely introduces an additional fact, and the sentence it introduces may be omitted without changing the essential statement: Thus : -i' There were very few passengers who escaped without serious injury. Here the meaning depends upon whether who may be resolved into and they. If it may be, the sentence may read : There were very few passengers, and they escaped without serious injury. cviii ADJECTIVR SENTENCES. [Part I. In the best usage, this meaning would be expressed by the sen- tence as originally written. But if the who may not be so resolved, the icho should be that, and the sentence means that nearly all of the passengers were injured : There were few passengers that escaped without serious injury. This distinction in the use of that and of who; ox which, is so closely associated with the qiiestion of inserting or omitting a comma before the relative clause, that we have treated it at length under the head of Punctuation (see pages 289-293). Obs. 74. — Adjective sentences may often be improved (a) by Resolution of the Relative, (b) by Composition of the Relative, or (c) by Inversion. Thus, (a) He was a hero, who never flinched. For who, substi- tute and he. (Omit the comma, and this resolution cannot occur. See page 289.) (b) The time drew near at which the Houses must reassemble. — Macaulat. For at which, substitute when. (c) The man who wants food is desperate. Kead, In want of food, a man is desperate. Obs. 75. — Relative clauses may often be condensed into adjectives or participles. Thus, for " The wind which never ceases," we may have " The never-ceasing wind." (3) Adverb Sentences take the place of and follow the construction of an adverb (see page Ixxvi). They may describe Place, Time, Manner, or Cause. They usu- ally modify the Predicate. Thus: Their ashes flew, No marble tells us whither. — CowPER. When I said I should die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. — Miich Ado about Nothing. Sec. U.] adverb SKNTENCES. cix Exercise XLIY. — Fill the ff)llowing blanks by insert- ing adverb sentences. Example. — He had just completed his work when his life ended. He had just completed his work — . It was not known — until — . We are often beset by temptation—. The righteous shall flourish — . Government has offered a reward for the rebel — . He will suc- ceed — . The evils of war are great — . The king fitted out an ex- pedition — . Obs. 76. — Adverb sentences ai-e sometimes abbre- viated, either by omitting the verb, or by changing the verb into a participle. Thus : When young he learned Hebrew, and though he afterward for- got it all, he died repeating the 23d Psalm. The participial adverb phrase must be carefully dis- tinguished from the participial adjective phrase (see page xlviii). It is necessary only to remember that the adjective alv?ay's modifies a noun or pronoun, while the adverb never modifies a noun. In the sentence thus given the last four words do not describe the person, but they tell how he died, and therefoi'e perform the function of an adverb. Obs. 77. — It is in the construction of complex sen- tences that one has occasion most frequently to recall the principle that a sentence should not end with an unem- phatic word. Thus, " The evidence proves how kind to his inferiors he is," should I'ead, " The evidence proves how kind he is to his inferiors." Exercise XLV. — Improve the following sentence. Example. — In my neighborhood, yesterday,' while I was preach- ing, a young woman died in a beastly state of intoxication. A young woman died in my neighborhood, yesterday, while I was preaching in a beastly state of intoxication. Obs. 78. — Like all other sentences, a complex sen- / ex COMPLEX SENTENCES. [Part 1. tence must have one, and only one principal subject of thought. The leading editorial article of the New York Herald of Septem- ber 28, 1881, certainly intended to represent the best literary work of which that journal was capable, began thus : With tAe burial by the lake side among the maples reddening with their aatumnal changes, which abound iu the most beautiful city of that vast Western valley of which he was the child, the ceremonies of the memorial week tiiice President Garfield's death have •come to a close, and the people return to the ordinary tenor of their occnpations. Not to speak of the doubt resulting from the position of which as to whether it is the maples or the changes that abound (see page cii), the whole adjective clause mtroduced by which is unfortunate, because it distracts attention from the main idea. It haa no special bearing upon General Garfield's funeral that maples are abundant ih Cleveland, or that Cleveland'is the most beautiful city of that valley, or that the valley itself is vast. To a majority of the readers of that journal these three statements are unfamiliar, and bring the momentary surprise of new facts. One of the three, that Cleveland is the mofct beautiful city, is a question of judgment, and in many minds absorbs all the interest of the sentence . Hence the unity of the sentence ?s destroyed. There is not one principal subject of thought, but there are two, three, four, according as these three statements are familiar and accepted. Again: Three or four centuries before the Christian era, on that vast territory comprised be- tween the Ocean, the Pyz-enees, the Mediterranean, the Alps, and the Rhone, lived six or seven millions of men a bestial life, enclosed in dwellings dark and low, the best of them built of wood and clay, covered with branches of straw, made in a single round piece, open to daylight by the door alone, and confusedly heaped together behind a rampart, not inartistically composerl, of timber, earth, and stone, which supported and protected what they were pleased to call a town. — Masson's Outlines of the History of France. The inversion of lived is unfortunate, to begin with, and the relations of ihe subse- quent clauses are as difficult to trace as those of the children in a family where a widower marries his stepmother. What was enclosed in dwellings dark a»d low — the men or their life ? " The best of them built," etc., undoubtedly refers to dwellings, and it was the dwellings that were covered with braiiches of straw, but it must have been the branches of straw that were made iu a single roitnd piece. No ; whatever were made iu a single round piece had a door in them, and that must have been the dwellings, which were also heaped. But it was the rampart that was composed ; it must have been the timber, earth, and stone that supported., and it was they who called the collection a town. So we have the following subjects, all in one sentence : Six or seven millions of men — lived. " " '* ' ' '* (probably) —enclosed. Dwellings —dark. " — low. " (the best of them) — built. " ( " " " ?) ^-covered. " ( " " " ?) —made. " ( " " « y^ —open. " ( " " " ¥) —heaped. Sec. II.] UNITY ESSENTIAL. CXl Rampart — composed. Timber, earth, and stone — supported. They (six or seven millions of men) —were pleased to call. Here one subject and one predicate have 4 modifiers of the second class, 15 of the third class, 23 of the fourth class, 13 of the fifth class, 21 of the sixth class, 7 of the seventh class, and 3 of the eighth class. Think of a sentence having 21 modifiers of modifiers of modifiers of modifiers of modifiers 1 Once more : Knowing on the one side so well the distinguished and masterly speakers who, to yonr pleased profit and to their own enhanced fame, had preceded me upon this stage of per- fect speech and purest song, and had made this oration, at once a high honor and a toil- fraught duty : and knowing upon the other side even better at once my native inability to stand a peer of such fiimous forerunners, and also the stern, distracting prcasm-e of cla- mant and incesbant work in this fresh field and amid a thousand thought- troubling circum- stances which made adequate preparation for me an insuperable impossibility, I had twice felt it my plain duty to put away from me the delightful labor and the tempting request. — Rev. John I. Macintosh, D.D , Oration on " The White Sunlight of Potent Worda.^^ * Here, out of one hundred and twenty -one words, twenty-one are qualifying adjectives. The speakers are distivguisfied and .masterlj/ ; the proflt is pleased; this stage is of speech and song ; and the speech is perfe< t, the aong purest. This oration is (predica- tively) not only an honor and a duij/^ but a high honor, and a toil-fraught duty. The speaker's inability is native, his fore-runners, though already called distinguished and masterly, must be referred to rs famous^ his pressure is stern and distracting, his work. is clamant and incessant, his field is fresh, and his thousand circumstances are thought- troubling. Preparation is for him so meaningless that he tacks adequate upon it, and im.po8sibiUty is so slight an obstacle that to give it force he puts before it insuperable. His duty Ib plain, his labor is delightful, the request is tempting. His first definition in etymology would be : Noun : A dummy to hang adjectives upon. Now, to find fitting adjectives to cover the Fupposed nakedness of all these nouns (as some conceited reformers .would envelop the Apollo Belvedere in a plaid uLster), requires both a broad vocabulary and a discriminating judgment. The author lacks both, or he would never talk oi pleaded profit and insuperable impossibility. Nor is work harder in a field because it is fresh. What he means is that the field is U7taccu8tomed. No heavier burden can fall upon a would-be orator than to establish a sort of ideal rhythm and conform his ideas to it, instead of letting his ideas determine the form of their expression. The same false taste that leads the author to insert superfluous adjec- tives, leads him to double his phrases. In this one sentence he see saws to yovr profit and to their fame ; perfect speech and purest song ; high honor and toil-fraugfit duty ; stern prefistire and thought-troubling circumstances ; delightful lahor and tempting re- quest. This results, as it always must, in nonsense. Take the last pair, for instance. Which comes first, the request or the labor? To gratify an unhealthy rhytlimical taste, the speaker falls into an absurd ant-climax. Again, look at the arrangement, "Knowing on the one side so well the distinguished speakers "—which side does he know them on, the rig: t side or the left side, the outside or the inside ? Manifestly the phrase on the one side should have begun the sentence, instead of being thrown between knowing and its object. So again, upon the other side even better at once -what an array of adverbs, which might easily be distributed. But we cannot go into furl her details. The sentence is a comprehensive embodiment of the worst errors in composition, and may be studied with abundant profit. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Noun Sentences, p. xcv. Ex. XXXVI. — Noun, adjective, and adverb sentences, p. xcvi.^ Ex. XXXVII. — Noun sentences, p. xcvi. Obs. 61. — Connecting particle unnecessary, p. xovii. Obs. 63. — "That" sometimes omitted, p. xovii. Obs. 63. — Dependent clauses distinct from independent, p. xcvii. Ex. XXXVIII. — Changing from direct to indirect mode of speech, p. xovii. Ex. XXXIX. — Changing from indirect to direct form, p. v. Adjective Sentences, p. ci. Ex. XL. — Inserting adjective sentences, p. ci. Obs. 64. — Relative nominative omitted, p. cii. Obs. 65. — " And " before adjective sentence, p. cii. Obs. 66. — Relative to be near antecedent, p. cii. Obs. 67. — Pronouns to be near nouns to which they refer, p. cii. Ex. XLI. ^Arrangement of relative clauses, p. ciii. Obs. 68. —Antecedent never an adjective, p. civ. Obs. 69. — Antecedent implied in possessive, p. civ. Obs. 70. — Ambiguity of antecedent, noun or clause, p. civ. Ex. XLII. — Antecedent noun or clause ? p. ov. Obs. 71. — Antecedent often repeated, p. cvi Obs. 72. — " Which-craft" to be avoided, p. cvi. Ex. XLin. — Which with heterogeneous clauses, p. cvii, ObsT 73.— Distinction of " Who '' and " That," p. cvii Obs. 74. — Resolution, composition, inversion, p. cviii. Obs. 75. — Relative clauses condensed, p. cviii. Adverb Sentences, p. cviii. Ex. XLrV. — Inserting adverb sentences, p oix. Obs. 76. — Abbreviation by omission or change, p. cix. Obs. 77. — Ending with unemphatic word, p. cix. Ex. XLV. — Improvement in construction, p. cix. Obs. 78. — One subject, and only one, p. cix. SECTIOl^ THIED. COMPOUND SENTENCES. A Compound Sentence contains two or more principal and co-ordinate assertions ; as, I came, saw, con- quered. Note. — For convenience, "if" sentences, often called complex, are here treated an compound. Obs. 79. — The members of a compound sentence must have a natural and perceptible connection in thought. Thus, The procession was very fine, and nearly two miles long, as was also the report of Dr. Perry, the cjiaplain. Here the reporter mentally connected the procession and the report by thinking of them both as fine, and endeavoring to say so. But, except as an expression of approval, the adjective fine has no common application to a procession and to a report, and though no ambiguous clause intervened, the members of the sentence would be incongruous. The last clause should therefore be a sep- arate sentence, something like this : The report of Dr. Perry, the chaplain, was able and comprehensive. He expired, . . . having enjoyed, by the benefit of his regimen, a long and healthy life, and a gentle and easy death. — Johnbon's Life of Iforin. This extraordinary person not only enjoyed his death, but first died and then expired. — Hamj. At the upper Methodist conference, at Marion, the other day, the Kev. R. W. Ooates, in making a repoi t of his stewardship, said he had passed three very successful and pleas- ant years nt Le Clair, having had an unusual number of funeral services during that \ms,— Sioux City Journal, cxiv COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Part I. Of course judgment will differ as to wliether the connection of thought in two sentences is sufficient to warrant their combinatiou into one. For instance : I am an early riser, but my wife is a Presbyterian.— A. Ward. "Have you ever been much at sea ? " '* Why, no, not exactly ; but my brother married a caualH3ai)taln's daughter." " Were you ever abroad ? " " Why, no, not exactly ; buc my mother's maiden name was Erench." Marshal Soult was accustomed to say of a Spanish painting which he had compelled two persons to surrender on pain of death : " That picture I value highly ; it saved the lives of two persons.'' This is almost equal to the school-boy's statement in a composition, that pins have saved the lives of a good many people ; being asked how, he replied, ** By their not swallowing therd.'* Prisoner at the bar, nature has endowed you with a good education and respectable .family connections, instead of which you go around about the country stealing ducks, A Western paper announced as follows: " Mr. Magulre will wash himself before he assumes the office.of sheriflc." This made Maguire angry, and he demanded a retraction, which the paper made thus : " Mr. Msiguire requests us to deny our statement that he will wash himself before he assumes the office of sheriff." Oddly enough, this only en- raged Maguire the more. Some people are bo hard to please. It is not the form of the compound sentence that makes the in- consecutiveness of two thoughts manifest. This may be just as marked in successive single sentences. Thus : One of the passengers on the ill-fated Metip, at the time of the disaster, was an ex- ceedingly nervous man, who, while floating in the water, imagined how his friends would acquaint his wife of his fate. Saved at last, he rushed to the telegraph office and pent this message : *' Dear P , I am saved. Break it gently to my wife 1 " — Spring- field Bepublican. The Hon. Newton Bateman, LL.D., has accepted the presidency of Knox College.- Galesburg, 111,, but will not enter upon its duties till near the close of the academic year. Thia gives great sati^action to the friands of the college, — College Courant, The church was erecte I during the ministry of the Rev. Elihu Whitcomb ; and the dedication sermon was preached Febi:uary 12, 1806. It was ninety, feet in length and fifty-four in breadth. -i-2Veio.s»aper in Saco, Me. A young lady went to a^djug store for a prescription. " How much ? '* she asked. " Fifty cents," said the clerk. "But I have only forty-five cents with me," replied the customer; ** can't you let me have it for that ? " *'No, ma'am," said the clerk, "but you can pay n.e five cents ^hen you coihe in again." " But suppose I were to die ?" said the lady, jocularly. Sec. III.] UNITY OP THOUGHT. CXV " Well, it wouldn't be a ver> great lose," was the smiling response. The smiling clerk gathered from the indignant flush on the lady's face that he had been misunderstood, but before he could assure her that it was the Utile balance that would be no great loss, she was beyond the sound of his voice, ExEECisE XLVI. — Resolve the following sentences into simpler ones, so far as necessary to preserve unity of thought. Example. — The dog, which had previously bitten his wife, died on the Monday following. The dog had previously bitten his wife, and on the Monday following it died. The town farm-house and alms-house have been carried on the past year to our reasonable satisfaction, especially the alms-house, at which there have been an unusual amount of siclmess and three deaths. Any person driving over this bridge in a faster pace than a walk shall, if a white person be fined five dollars, and if a negro, receive twenty-five lashes, half the penalty to be bestowed on the informer. Wanted, by an apothecary, an assistant to take an interest in a small flrst-class trade and in a quiet family. Even Mrs. H. B. Stowe, in her great work, "Uncle Tom," and- in other writings, uses this phrase incessantly, and although, per- haps, not exactly a model of composition, her authority is of some weight, as she puts it into the mouth of educated as well as of illiterate people. — Schele de Vekb. Chaucer seems to affect monosyllabic rhymes in verse, and in- deed seldom employs double ones, unless we count as such words in e final, which perhaps we should do, for there is no doubt but this letter was sounded in Chaucer's time, as it is now in the cog- nate languages and in French verse. — Marsh. There are a great many different kinds of trees, some furnishing us with wood for common purposes, such as flooring for our houses and frames for the windows, while others afford us more beautiful wood, which, when polished, is made into tables and chairs and various articles of furniture. Poast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a, cxvi COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Part I. day may bring forth ; and for the same reason, despair not of to- morrow, for it may bring forth good as well as evil ; which is a ground for not vexing thyself with imaginary fears ; for the black cloud, which is regarded with so much dread, may pass harmlessly by, or may find thee, before it breaks, the tenant of that lowly mansion which no storms can touch. The Britons, daily harassed by the Picts, were forced to call in the Saxons for their defence, who, after having repelled the in- vaders, turned their arms against the Britons themselves, drove them into the most remote and mountainous parts of the kingdom, and reduced the greater part of the island under their dominion, so that in the course of a century and a half the country became almost wholly Saxon in customs, religion, and language. Lnat year a paper was brought here from England, called "A Dialogue between the Archbishop of Canterbury and Mr. Higgina," which we ordered to be burned by the common hangman, as it well deserved, though we have no more to do with His G-race of Canterbury than you have with the Archbishop of Dublin, whom you laraely suffer to be abused openly and by name by that paltry rascal of an observator ; ar.d lately upon r..n affair wherein he had no concern ; I mean the business of the missionary of Drogheda, wherein an excellent primate wan engaged, and did nothing but according to law and discretion. —Swift. The usual acceptation takes Profit and Pleasure for two different things, and not only calls the followers or votaries of them by the several names of Bnsy or Idle men, but dis- tinguishes the faculties of the mind that are conversant about them, calling the opera- ti -ns of the first Wisdom, and of the other Wit ; which is a Saxon word, used to exprcsi what the Spaniards and Italians call Ingenio^ and the Piench Esprit^ both from the Latin ; though I think Wit more particularly signifies that of Poei-ry, as may occur in remarks on Runic language. — Sir William Temple. ,^ To this succeeded tha . licentiousness which entered with the Restoration, and from infec'ing our religion and morals fell to corrupt our language (which last was not likely to be mu ih improved by those who at that time made up the court of King Charles the Second ; either such who had followed him in his banishment, or who had betn alto- gether conversant in the dialect of those fanatic tituos, or young men who had been edu- cated in the same company) ; so that the court (whicli had used to be the siandard of propriety and correctness of speech) was then (and, I think, hath ever since coniinued) the worst school in England for that accomplishment ; and so will remain till better care be taken in the education of our young nobility, that they may set out into the world with some foundation of literature in order to qualify them for patterns of politeness. — SwiffT. Obs. 80.— In the members of a compound sentence the construction must not be changed without good rea- son. Sec. III.] insriFORMITT OF CONSTRUCTION. cxvii Exercise XL VII. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — I stould have sent the brooches before, but have been unwell. The brooches would have been sent before, but have been un- well. — Note.from Jeweller to Bean Alford. Mrs. A.'s compliments to Mrs. B., and begs to say that 0. lived with her a year and found her respeotablB, steady, and honest. B. 0. begs to apologize for not acknowledging P. O. order at the time (but was from home), and thus got delayed, misplaced, and forgotten. Gentlemen's materials made up and waited on at their own homes.- — Tailor^ Advertisement. It requireth few talents to which most men are not bom, or at - least may not acquire. — Swut. A Methodist church in Baltimore advertised that it would pay ten dollars reward " for the apprehension and conviction of the person or persons who defaced the parsonage steps, or for any mutilation of church property." Tickets ogee nipped and defaced at the barriers, and the pas- sengers admitted to the platform, will be delivered up to the com- pany in the event of the holder subsequently retiring, and cannot bs recognized for readmission. (Here if " having admitted pas- sengers" be substituted for " the passengers admitted," the sub- ject will be the same throughout, and though the sentence will be awkward it will be perspicuous.) The following story went the round of the German papers : On the morning of the recent eclipse Oapt. von S , of the Pu- sileers, issued the following verbal order to his company, through his Sergeant-Major, to be communicated to the men after forenoon parade : This afternoon a solar eclipse will take place. At 3 o'clock the whole company will parade in the bftrrack yard. Fjitigiie jackets and caps. I shall explain the ecllpBe to the men. Should it rain, they will assemble in the drill shed. The Sergeant-Major, having set down his commanding officer's instructions in writing, as he had understood them, formed the company into hollow square at the conclusion of the morning drill, and read his version of the order to them, thus : cxviii COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Part I. This afternoon a solar eclipse will take place in the barrack yard by order of the Captain, and will be attended by the whole company, in fatigue jackets and caps. The Captain will conduct the solar eclipse in person. Should it rain, the eclipse will take place in the drill shed.— JV^ Y. Sun. Obs. 81. — Correlative conjunctions, as where ' «o< only precedes hut, hut also, or hut even, should each be followed by the same part of speech. Thus, " The sportsman was uot only hunting all the morning, but all the afternoon,'' should read, " The sportsman was hunting not only all the morning, but all the afternoon." ExEEcisE XLVIII. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — I estimated myself neither high nor lowly. I neither estimated myself high nor lowly. — Db Quincbt. He not only gave me advice but also help. Lothair was unaffectedly gratified at not only receiving his friends at his own castle, but under these circumstances of inti- macy. — DiSBAELI. He not only spoke forcibly but tastefully, and not only this, too, before a small audience, but in a large public meeting also, and not only were his speeches successful, but also worthy of success. You are not obliged to take any money which is not gold or sil- ver ; not only the halfpence or farthings of England, but of any other country. — Swift. Aristotle would be, indeed, the sorriest plagiary on record, were the thefts believed of him by his Oxford votaries not false only, but ridiculous. Psychical states that often recur in a given order not only be- come increasingly coherent, but the transitions from each to the next become more rapid. Because here the similitude is not only pleasant, but the pat- tern more perfect. — Blaib. This class is believed to be not only very limited in number, but of this number very few ever commit capital crime. — N. A. Beview. Would neither have been so neat nor so clear as it is by the present construction.^ — Blaib, ,; Sec. III.] USES OF CONJUNCTIONS. cxlx Because we neither know the nature of our own ideas nor of the Boul. — Blaib. A petty constable will neither act cheerfully or wisely. (A dou- ble mistake : neither must always be followed by nor.) By greatness I do not only mean the bulk of any single object, but the largeness of the whole view. — Addison. They will, too, not merely interest children, but grown-up per- sons. — Westminster Review. Their language frequently amounts not only to bad sense, but nonsense. — Kirkham's Grammar. For position of the adverb not, when alone, see page Ixxviii. ObSi 82. — In general, only the same parts of speech should be united by conj unctions in the same construction. Thus, Campbell says : " Personal relations are of various kinds. They, are consanguinity, affinity, friendship, acquaintance, being fellow-citizens, countrymen, of the same name, religion, occupa- tion, and innumerable others." Hei-e we have first four abstract nouns ; then a participle followed by (1) two class nouns, (2) three preposition phrases, and finally a pronoun. The sentence is not an easy one to reconstruct, but the following form escapes the violation of unity : They are of consanguinity, aflBnity, friendship, acquaintance, citizenship, nation- ality, surname, religion, occupation, and innumerable others. ExBECisE XLIX. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — Their success or failure indicated, etc. Their success or otherwise indicated, etc. — WestmiTister Review. His style is awkward and slovenly, that of his antagonist re- markably terse and clear, and bearing witness to a sensitiveness of ear and taste which are glaringly deficient in his opponent. — West- minster Review. We saw it thrown through the window and flat on the ground. She was a woman of taste, and wearing a green velvet dress. The fact is well known and obvious. Obs. 83. — The use of '■•And" indicates that the new statement is superadded to, and distinct from, the pre- cxx COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Part I. vious ; its omission, usually that tlie new statement is in substance the same as the previous, or a mere varying of the expression. Thus, '* Ideas quickly fade, and often vanish quite out of the understanding,'' would be better, " Ideas quickly fade ; they often vanish'quite out of the understanding." He was deeply conversant with the ancients, both Greek and Latin, and he borrowed boldly from them ; there is scarce a poet or historian araong the Roman authors whom he has not translated in Sejanus and Catiline. The and in the first member is strictly correct ; borrpwing boldly is a fact additional to being conversant with. Equally proper is the omission of the conjunction at the commencement of the second member, which repeats in greater detail the same act of borrowing.— Bain. The mechanism of sentences may assist onergy further by the conscious use or omis- sion of the conjunctive beginning. I have just observed ttiat the word '■ and " probably begins more sentences in the productions of inexperienced write s than any other in the language This act gives importance to intelligent criticism of all forms of conjunctive beginning. Let it be observed, then, that the conjunctive beginning is forcible if the eucccssiun of thought requires it. Often it does so. Something is needed to express or to hint the fact o£ continuity. Tne idea of inference, or of other sequence, or of quali- fication, or of contrast, is to the point. Instinctively, then, you link sentence bo sentence by beginning the second of the two With '* but '* or " and," or an adverbial term w hich has a conjunctive effect, like "yet" or ''nevertheless." What is the exact force of the conjunctive beginning ? It is to bridge over the period preceding. Sotuetimes energy re- quii'es that. But witho it such demand t-t thought, the conjunctive be,;inning is meaningless, and therefore vapid. Did you never hear an inferior conversationalist begin sentence after sentence with the corrupt formula "and-er " ? That indicates momentary vacuity of mind. The speaker iR on the hunt for something to any. The "and-er" has no conjunctive force. Not once in a score of times does the connection demand a reminder of what went before. This mongrel expression is only an interjectional expletive, by which the speaker holds 0^ to the right of utterance while his mind is exploring. To compare it with a thing on a level with it in dignity, it is like a travelling-bag which you leave to represent you when for a moment you leave your scat in a rail-car. Precisely such is the needless nse'of the conjunctive beginning in written discourse. In the succession of thought it has no conjunctive force. Therefore style it is not. It is language not freighted by sense. Oral delivery may be sadly weighted by the conjunctive beginning. Punctuation may remedy it to the eye in piiut ; but, orally delivered, sucli sentences lose their only sign of separation. The period is bridged over when you do not mean it, and your style runs together. Two, even three, possibly four, short sentences, which for force of utterance ought to be short, and ought to be uttered with crisp delivery, are stretched into one long one ; made long by that most flattering expedient of composition, a mechanical coupling of ideas. The conjunctive beginning, therefore, should be intelligently used. Use it Sec. 111.] USES OF "AND" AND OF "OR." cxxi wlien you mean it. Drop it when it i6 only the sign of vacuum. Common etiquette re- quires you to conceal a yawn. — Phelps. Obs. 84. — A- void the use of " Or" where there is neither disjunction nor alternation. Thus, " This angelic coronet shed light alike upon the cham- bers of a cottage or a palace." Here the use of alike shows that the cottage and the palace are united in the idea, — not con- trasted. The sentence should read, " The angelic coronet shed light alike upon the chambers of a cottage and a palace." Again, "Notwithstanding all the attempts which have been made to explain this away or even to turn it to the poet's credit, it is surely a great defect in him." Here, if the author intends to produce emphasis by the use of or even, he might say, " to explain this away, nay more, tdfturn it to the poet's credit." Had the first clause been negative, nor eueti would have jaro- duced emphasis. In the following quotations from Shakspere (the obsolete double negative having been removed), it will be seen that nor ever is a much stronger expression than and never. I never was, nor ever will be false. This England never difl, nor ever shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. But this emphasis does not extend to or ever. " Passengers are cautioned not to open a carriage door m- to put their heads out of the windows, when the train is in motion.'' The placing of not here commands both infinitives, as is meant. But or is an awkward and unmanageable word ; it su25poses a preced- ing either, and does not tally well with a previous not. Better to repeat the not, or else make it neither and nor : not to open a carriage door, and not to put their heads ; " " neither to open, nor to put.'' Otherwise: "While the train is in motion, passengers should neither open the carriage doors, nor put their heads out of the windows." — Badt. Exercise L. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — " arising from our hopes and our fears." All that part of our happiness arising from our hopes or our fears depends on imagination. cxxu COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Pakt I. Obs. 85. — Make it always clear whether "Or'" is used alternatively or disjunctively. In its alternative use or introduces a synonymous or explana- tory expression ; as, "He is a lieutenant, or subordinate officer." In its disjunctive use, it introduces a contradictory expression ; as, " He is a lieutenant or a captain." It will be noticed that in its disjunctive use, or is followed by the article repeated. Campbell's rule is as follows : 'If the first noun follows an article, or a preposition, or both, the article or the preposition, or both, should be repeated before the second, when the two nouns are intended to denote different things ; and should not be repeated when they denote the same thing. If there be neitjjjsr article nor preposition before the first, and if it be the intention of the writer to use the particle or disjunctively, let the first noun be preceded by either, which will infallibly ascertain the meaning. On the contrary, if, in such a. dubious case, it be his design to use the particle as a copulative to synonymous words, the piece will rarely sustain a material injury by his omitting both the conjunction and the synonyma." Bain gives several illustrations, as follows : In a sentence already quoted (page exx) there occurs the phrase — "there is scarce a poet or historian among the Koman au- thors." The weakening effect of the use of or for synonymous phrases is felt here. But for our knowledge of the meanings, we might easily suppose that poet and historian were two names for the same person or class. To bring out the alternation of meaning or subject, we must say, " scarcely either a poet or a historian ; " " scarcely a Roman author, either poet or historian." Or put in positive form — "nearly all the Boman authors, poets and histori- ans alike." "They who have no real feeling always pitch their expressions too high or too low." The or is inadequate to the occasion. There is an alternative contrast amounting to opposition. Say, "either too high, or else too low." More decided thus: "They that want real feeling never pitch their expressions at the right point ; they are either too high, or else too low." " The thing was done by force or fraud." li force &ndL fraud are Sec. III.] tJSES OF "OR," AND Ot "IF." cxxnl to be marked out as two distinct facts, one of them (and not the other) being the instrument assigned, we should at least repeat the preposition — "by force or by fraud;" the alternation being further improvable, as in the other instances, by else. [It will be observed that Bain uses the term alternative where the distinction above made would require disjunctive. He speaks of alternative in the sense above given as "a synoiiymous, or ex- planatory alternative."] It may be added that the distinction may be further made in punctuation. The expression introduced by or alternative, being explanatory, would be set off by commas (see page 271). Where this does not sufficiently mark the character of the phrase, it may be put in parenthesis. Thus : They were both much more ancient among the Persians than Zoroaster (or Zerdusht). As for such animals as are mortal (or noxious), we have a right to destroy them. Obs. 86. — "Jf" clauses slionld be avoided except emphatically to express that the action of the predicate hangs upon an nneertaiu event. Thus, "If stones are dropped into water, they will sink," is more simply expressed, "Stones sink in water." "If you will come, I shall be delighted," is better thus : "Your coming will de- light me." "If it would rain, we should get much good;" read, "Rain would do much good." On the other hand, to say, "If he is guilty, his punishment will be severe," expresses a doubt of the issue which disappears in, " His guilt will be followed by severe punishment." Frequently the imperative may with advantage be substituted for an t/.clause. Thus : " If you search through history, you will find — " may become, " Search through history and you will find — " etc. Exercise LT. — Yary the conditional expression in the following sentence. Example. — To be large and liberal, the scholar's mind must come in contact with other minds. cxxiv compounB Sentences. [PaktI. The mind of the scholar, if you would have it large and liberal, raust come in contact with other minds. — Longfellow. Obs. 87. — In conditional sentences, the " j/"" clause must be kept distinct. It should usually come first. Thus in " The lesson intended to be taught by these manoeuvres will be lost, if the plan of operations is laid down too definitely before- hand, and the affair degenerates into a mere review. " The meaning may be, either, (1) If the plan of operations is laid down too definitely before- hand, the lesson intended to be taught by these manoeuvres will be lost, and the affair degenerates into a mere review ; or, (2) If the plan of operations is laid down too definitely before- hand, and the affair degenerates into a mere review, the lesson in- tended to be taught by these manoeuvres will be lost. On the general principle of Climax (see page exxxi) the " if " clause should come first. Every one will see the flatness of " Eevenge thy father's most unnatural murder, if thou didst ever love him," as compared with the suspense that forces an expression of agony from Hamlet in — Ghost, If thou didst ever thy dear father love — Eamlet. O, GJod 1 Gliost. Eevenge hie foul and most unnatural murder. The effect is sometimes almost ludicrous when the consequent is long and complicated, and when it precedes the antecedent or "if -clause." I should be delighted to introduce you to my friendB, and to show you the objectB of interest in our city, and the beautiful scenery in the neighborhood, if you were here. "Where the "if-clause" comes last, it ought to be very em- phatic : "if you were only here." The introduction of a clause with "if " or "though"' in the Sec. III.] REPETITION OF TEIfSE-PORMS. CXXV middle of a sentence may often cause ambiguity, especially when a great part of the sentence depends on "that.'' His euemie» answered that, for the sake of preserving the public pence, they would keep quiet for the present, though he declared that cowardice was the motive of the de- lay, and that for this reason they would put off the trial to a more convenient season. So, The Secretary is a traitor, if he really wrote the letter in question. — Abbott. Obs. 88. — Where two different forms of the verb are connected by a conjunction, such parts of the tense-forms as are not common to both must be repeated in full. Thus, we may say, I am surprised that he has acted as he has [acted] ; but not, I am surprised that he should act as he has [acted]. ExEECisE LII. — Fill out the improper ellipses in the following sentences : Example. — This dedication may serve for almost any book that has been, is, or shall be published. This dedication may serve for almost any book that has, is, or shall be published. I shall do all I can to persuade others to take the same meas- ures for their care which I have. — Quardian. The forms of English are so few, its syntax so simple, that they are learned by use before the age of commencing classical study. — Mabsh. We are too apt to imagine that what is, always has, and always will be. — Too Much Alone. But you will bear it as you have so many things. — J. T. Cole- KIDGE. I am anxious for the time when he will talk as much nonsense to me as I have to him. — Landob. But the problem is one which no research has hitherto solved, and probably never will. — H. Holland. Failing, as others have, to reconcile poetry and metaphysics, he succeeds better in speculations inspired by the revelations of lens and laboratory. — E. C. Stbdman. cxxvi COMPOUS'D SENTENCES. [Part 1. No introduction has, nor in any probability ever will, authorize that which common thinkers would call a liberty. — Shbllbt. Some part of this exemption and liability may, and no doubt is, due to mental or physical causes in the unhappy or fortunate indi- ■yidual. — Spectator. He ridicules the notion that truth will prevail ; it never has, and it never will prevail. — Leslie Stephen. I never have, and never will, attack a man for spedilative opin- ions. — Buckle. Obs. 89L — The copula must be repeated when the second of two connected attributes is not closely associated with the first in meaning, especially if it is contrasted in meaning. (See Obs. 12, page xxxiv. ; Obs. 36, page Ivii.) Thus, They will admit that he was a great poet, but deny that he was a great man. Here loill should be repeated before deny. Obs. 90. — The verb to he must not be made to do duty at once as a principal verb and as an auxiliary. Thus, The doctor was a very great favorite, and received with much respect and honor. — Thackeray. Say was received. Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed. — Longfellow. Obs. 9 1 . — The verb should usually be repeated after OS, than, etc. ; and in general wherever it is necessary to distinguish the subject from the object. Thus: "I esteem him more highly than Charles," may mean : (1) I esteem him more highly than I do Charles ; (2) I esteem him more highly than Charles esteems him. Sometimes the brevity of Antithesis (see page cxxxvii) must be sacrificed to clearness ; as; 'Flattery gains friendd^t truth,, foes. Obs. 92. — It is better to repeat the verb itself than to represent it by ^o or did. (See page Ixiv.) Thus, I have furnished the 'house exactly acctoding to your Sec, III.] EEPETITION OF VERBS. Cxxvii fancy, or, if you please, my own ; for I have long since learned to like nothing but what you do. — Spectator. Done is frequently a very great offender against grammar. To do is the act of do- ing. We see people write, " I did not speak yesterdayso well as I wished to have done.'"' Now what is meant by the writer? He means to say that he did not sneak so well as he then wished, or was wishing, to speak. Therefore the sentence should be " I did not speak yesterday so well as I wished to do it," that is to say, to do or to perform the act of speaking. Take great care not to be too free in your use of the verb to do in any of its times or modes. It is a nice little handy word, and, like our oppressed it. it is made use of very ofteu when the writer ia at a loss for what to put down. To do is to act, and, therefore, it never can, in any of its parts, supply the place of a neuter verb. "How do you do f " Here do refers to the state, and is essentially passive or neuter. Yet, to employ it for this purpose is very common. Dr. Blair, in his twenty-third Lecture, says : " It is some- what unfortunate that this number of the ^ectator did not end, as it might have done^ with the former beautiful period." That is to say, done it. And then we ask, Done what? Not the act of ending, because in this case there is no action at all. The verb means to come to an end, to cease, not to go any further. The same verb to end is some- times an actfve verb : " I end my sentence ; " then the verb to do may supply its place ; as, "I have not ended my sentence so well as I might have done ; " that is, done it ; that is, dojie^ or performed, the act of ending. But the number of the Spectator was no ac- tor ; it was expected to perform nothing ; it was, by the Doctor, wished to have ceased to proceed, "Did not end as it very well might have ended." . . . This would have been correct; but the Doctor wished to avoid the repetition, and thus he fell into bad grammar. ' ^ Mr. Speaker, I do not feel so well satisfied ns I should have done if the Right Honorable Gentleman had explained the matter more fully." To feel satisfied is— when the patisfaction is to arise from conviction produced by fact or reasoning — a senseless expression ; and to supply its place when it is, as in this case, a nenter verb by to do, is as senseless. Done what ? Done the act of feeling. " I do not feel so well satisfied as I should have done, or executed, or performed the act of feeling ! " What incomprehen- sible words 1— OOBBETT. Exercise LIIL — Correct the following sentences. Example. — *' or if they take it," etc. For these latter will either not scruple to take a false oath, or if they do, will satisfy their conscience by various evasions or equivocations. — Whatelt. That any firm, tradesmen, manufacturers, agents, quacks, per- fumers, or whatever else they may be, pay a settled sum, no more and no less, for advertising, I do not believe now, whatever I may have done before commencing my labors. — Sampson, History of Advertising. Obs. 93. — In many compound sentences the subject m,ust be repeated, to prevent ambiguity, especially after a cxxviii COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Part I. relative standing as subject, or where the relative is the subject of several verbs. Thus, " He professes to be helping the nation, which in reality- is suffering from his flattery, and (he ? or it ?) will not permit any one else to give it advice." — Abbott. When denied in one member and asserted in the other, the subject should of course be stated in both members. Thus: No line of it, however seemingly discursive, should be aim- less, but [every line] should have some relation to the matter in hand. — James Payn. A similar principle may require the . repetition of tly*"^ predicate, or of the entire statement, in a changed form. Thus: Retaining the color of their uniform, they have replaced an ugly shako by one altogether as smart and soldier-like [as the for- mer shako was ugly?]. — London Telegraph. There are those who never reason on what they should do, but what they have done, as if reason had her eyes behind, and could only see backward. — FreiiDiNG. Obs. 94. — When there are several verbs at some distance from a conjunction on which they depend, the conjunction should be repeated. Thus : When we look back upon the havoc that two hundred years have made in the ranks of our national authors, and, above all, when we refer their rapid disappearance to the quick succession of new competitors, we cannot help being dismayed at the prospect that lies before the authors of the present day. [Here, if when be omitted, the clause becomes parenthetical.] — Abbott. Obs. 95. — Corresponding conjunctions, like not only, but also, add clearness, as, tlie construction assures . the SBC. Ill ] CONJUNCTIONS.— FINAL CLAUSES. CXXIX I'eader that the sense will be incomplete until the full stop is reached. But when unnecessary, they encumber and stiffen the sentence. Thus, Abbott gives the following sentence : Tou must take this extremely perilous course, in whicli success is uncertain, and failure disgraceful, as well as ruinous, or else the liberty of your country is endangered. Here the meaning is liable to be misunderstood till the reader has gone half through the sentence. Write, " Either you must," etc., and the reader is, from the first, prepared for an alternative. Obs. 96o — The omission of conjunctions sometimes gives forcible abruptness ; as, You say this ; I deny it. For it is a remarkable peculiarity of language that the omission of a connecting particle should sometimes serve to make objects appear more closely connected ; and that the repetition of it should distinguish and separate them in some measure from each other. — BiiAiE. Obs. 97. — Short and uriemphatic clauses should not be introduced unexpectedly at the end of long sentences, except to produce a special effect. After a long and tedious journey, the last part of which was a little dangerous, owing to the state of the roads, we arrived safely at York, which is a fine old town. When the short final clause is intended to be unexpect- edly emphatic, it comes in appropriately, with something the sting of an epigram (see page cxxxvi). Thus : The old miser said that he should have been delighted to give the poor fellow a shil- ling, but most unfortunately he had left his purse at home — a habit ot his. Suspense naturally throws increased emphasis on the words for which we are waiting, i.e., on the end of the sentence. It has been pointed out above that a monotony of final emphasis is ob- jectionable, especially in letter-writing and conversation. — Abbott. "' With these T^rititigs ybung divines are iftOfe conversaat than CXXX COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Pakt I. ■with those of Demosthenes, who by many degrees excelled the other, at least as an orator. — Swift. ExEEOiSE LIY. — Correct the following sentence. Example. — As this is not the case, the faulty order of words cannot properly be considered as rendering the sentence ambigu- ous, but can be considered as rendering it obscure. As this is not the case, the faulty order of the words cannot properly be considered as rendering the sentence ambiguous, but obscure. — Campbell. Obs. 98. — Clauses that are grammatically connected should be kept as close together as possible. Thus, in the following : The result of these observations appears to be in opposition to the view now generally received in this country, that in muscular effort the substance.of the muscle itself under- goes disintegration, Here it is difficult to tell whether the theory of ' ' disintegration " is (1) "the result," or, as the absence of a comma after "be" would indicate, (2) ' ' in opposition to the result of these observa- tions." If (1) is intended, add " and to prove " after " country; " if (2), insert "which is'' after "country." There is an excessive complication in the following : '■ It cannot, at all events, if the consideration demanded by a subject of such impor- tance from any one professing to be a philosopher, be given, be denied that," etc. Where a speaker feels that his hearers have forgotten the con- nection of the beginning of the sentence, he should repeat what he has said — e.g., after the long parenthesis in the last sentence he should recommence, "it cannot, I say, be denied." In writing, however, this license must be sparingly used. (See page cvi.) A short parenthesis, or modifying clause, will not interfere with clearness, especially if antithesis be used, so as to show the con- nection between the different parts of the sentence, e.g. : "A modern newspaper statement, though probably true, would be laughed at if quoted in a book as testimony ; but a letter of a court gossip is thought good historical evidence if written some centuries ago." ' Here, to place " though probably true " at the beginning of the sentence Typuld not add clearness, and would impair the emphasis Sec. III.] CLIMAX. cxxxi of the contrast between ' ' a modem newspaper statement " and "the letter of a court gossip." — Abbott. (But see below.) Obs. 99. — The first clause should prepare for the second, the second for the third, etc., in an increasing scale of interest and importance. Whately remarks, in a sentence that itself illustrates the prin- ciple he states : If a sentence be bo constructed that the meaning of each part can be taken as we pro- ceed (though it be evident that the sense is not brought to a close), its length will be little or no impediment to perspicuity ; but if the former part of the sentence convey no distinct meaning till we arrive nearly at the end (however. plain it may then appear), it will be on the whole deficient in perspicuity ; for it will need to be read over or thought over a second time, in order to be fully ^comprehended ; which -is what few readers or bearers are willing to be burdened with. It is with discourses as with bodies, which ordinarily owe their principal excellence to the assemblage and just proportion of their members, in such a way that although one member, separated from the others, may have nothing remarkable about it, still all of them together do not fail to make a perfect body. — Longinus. The following is an instance of defective combination : A modern newspaper statement, though probably true, would be laughed at, if quoted in a book as testimony ; but the letter of a coiurt gossip is thought good historical evi- dence, if written some centuries ago. A rean-angement of this, in accordance with the principles ad- vocated above, will be found to increase the effect. Thus : Though probably true, a modern newspaper statement quoted in a book as testimony, would be laughed at ; but the letter of a court gossip, if written some centuries ago, is thought good historical evidence. By making this change, some of the suspensions are avoided and others shortened ; while there is less liability to produce premature suggestions. The passage quoted below from " Para- dise Lost " affords a fine instance of a sentence well arranged ; alike in the priority of the subordinate members, in the avoidance of long and numerous suspensions, and in the correspondence be- tween the order of the clauses and the sequence of the phenomena described, which, by the way, is a further prerequisite to easy comprehension, and therefore to eflfeot. cxxxii COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Part 1. As when a prowling wolf, Whom hunger drives to Eeek new haunt for prey. Watching where uhepherds pen their flocks at ere In hurdled cotes amid the field secure, Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold ; Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, Cross-barr'd and bolted fast, fear no assault, In at the window climbs, or o*er the tiles : So clomb the first grand thief into God's fold ; So since into his church lewd hirelings climb. The habitual use of sentences in which all or most of the de- scriptive and limiting elements precede those described and lim- ited, gives rise to -what is called the inverted style [see page xxi] ; a title which is, however, by no means confined to this structure, but is often used where the order of the words is simply unusual. A more appropriate title would be the direct style, as contrasted with the other, or iytdirect style : the peculiarity of the one being, -that it conveys each thought into the mind step by step with little liability to error ; and of the other, that it gets the right thought conceived by a series of approximations. The superiority of the direct over the indirect form of sentence, imphed by the several conclusions that have been drawn, must not, however, be affirmed wifchout reservation. Though, up to a certain point, it is well for the qualifying clauses of a period to precede those qualified; yet, as canying forward each qualifying clause costs some mental effort, it follows that when the number of them and the time they are carried become great, we reach a limit beyond which more is lost than is gained.* * A sentence, for example, begins with a series of ifs ; perhaps a dozen lines are occu- pied with expanding the conditions under which something is afRroied or denied ; here you cannot dismiss and have done with the ideas as you go along ; all is hypothetic; all is suspended in air. The conditions are not fully to be understood until you are ac- quainted with the dependency ; you must give a separate attention to each clause of this complex hypothesis, and yet, having done that by a painful effort, you have done nothing at all ; for you must exercise a reacting attention through the corresponding latter sec- tion, in order to follow out its relations to all parts of the hypotheses which sustained it. In fact, under the rude, yet also artificial character of newspaper style, each separate monster period is a vast arch, which, not receiving its key-stone, not being locked into self-supporting cohesion until you nearly reach its close, imposes of necessity upon the unhappy reader all the onus of its ponderous weight through the process of its construc- tion.— De QUINCET. Sec. III.] HERBERT SPENCER'S VIEW. cxxxiii Other things equal, the arrangement should be such that no concrete image shall be suggested until the materials out of which it is to be made have been presented. And yet, as lately pointed out, other things equal, the fewer the materials to be held at once, and the shorter the distance they have to be borne, the better. Hence in some cases it becomes a question whether most mental effort will be entailed by the many and long suspensions, or by the correction of successive misconceptions. This question may sometimes be decided by considering the ca- pacity of the persons addressed. A greater grasp of mind is re- quired for the ready comprehension of thoughts expressed in the direct manner, where the sentences are anywise intricate. To re- collect a number of preliminaries stated in elucidation of a coming idea, and to apply them all to the formation of it when suggested, demands a good memory and considerable power of concentra- tion. To one possessing these, the direct method will mostly seem the best ; while to one deficient in them it will seem the worst. Just as it may cost a strong man less effort to carry a hundred-weight from place to place at once, than by a stone at a time, so to an active mind it may be easier to bear along all the qualifications of an idea, and at once rightly form it when named, than to first imperfectly conceive such idea, and then carry back to it, one by one, the details and limitations afterward mentioned. While conversely as, for a boy, the only possible mode of trans- ferring a hundred-weight is that of taking it in poi-tions, so, for a weak mind, the only possible mode of forming a compound con- ception may be that of building it up by carrying separately its several parts. That the indirect method — the method of conveying the mean- ing by a series of approximations — is best fitted for the unculti- vated, may indeed be inferred from their habitual use of it. The form of expression adopted by the savage, as in " Water give me," is the simplest type of the approximate arrangement. In pleonasms, which are comparatively prevalent among the unedu- cated, the same essential structiire is seen, as, for instance, in "The men, they were there." Again, the old possessive case — " The king, his crown," conforms to the like order of thought. Moreover, the fact that the indirect mode is called the natural one, cxxxiv COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Part I. implies that it is the one spontaneously employed by the common people — that is, the one easiest for undisciplined minds. There are many cases, however, in which neither the direct nor the indirect structure is the best, but where an intermediate struc- ture is preferable to both. . . . Before dismissing this branch of our subject, it should be fur- ther remarked that, even when addressing the most vigorous in- tellects, the direct style is unfit for communicating ideas of a complex or abstract character. So long as the mind has not much to do, it may be well able to grasp all the preparatory clauses of a sentence, and to use them effectively ; but if some subtlety in the argument absorb the attention, if every faculty be strained in en- deavoring to catch the speaker's or writer's drift, it may happen that the mind, una\)le to carry on both processes at once, will break down, and allow the elements of the thought to lapse into confusion. — Hbrbbkt Spbncee. Examples (see also page cxxiv) : With thee conversing, I forget all time. — Milton. Formed by thy converse, happily to steer From grave to gay, from lively to severe. — Pope. Were we as eloquent as angels, we should please some men, some women, and some children much more by listening than by talking. — Colton. ExEBCisE LY. — Give strength to the following sen- tences by arranging the members according to the natural order of circumstances. Example. — Improvidence is the parent of poverty and depend- ence. Improvidence is the parent of dependence and poverty. , Gentleness ought to diffuse itself over our whole behavior, to form our address, and to regulate our speech. Ambition creates seditions, wars, discords, hatred, and shyness. Charity breathes long-suffering to enemies, courtesy to strangers, habitual kindness toward friends. A virtuous and pious life will prove the best preparation for im- moi'tality and death. Sec. III.] CLIMAX— BATHOS. cxxxv In this state of mind, every employment of life becomes an op- pressive burden, and every object appears gloomy. Virtue supports in sickness, comforts in the hour of death, strengthens in adversity, and moderates in prosperity. The study of astronomy elevates and expands the mind. Since man is on his very entrance into the world the most help- less of all creatures ; since he must at last be laid down in the dust from which he was taken ; and since he is for a series of years en- tirely dependent on the support and protection of others ; how vain and absurd does it appear that such a being should indulge in worldly pride ! That morning he had laid his books, as usual, on the table in his study. I shall never consent to such proposals while I live. Many changes are now taking place in the vegetable world, under our immediate notice, though we are not observant of them. By those accustomed to the civilization and the warm sun of Italy, it must have been felt as a calamity to be compelled to live, not only in a cold, uncultivated country, but also among a bar- barous people. Let us not conclude, while dangers are at a distance, and do not immediately approach us, that we are secure, unless we use the necessary precautions to prevent them. You may set my fields on fire, and give my children to the sword ; you may drive myself forth a houseless, childless beggar, or load me with the fetters of slavery ; but you never can conquer the hatred I feel to your oppression. Meanwhile Gloucester, taking advantage of the king's indolent disposition, resumed his plots and cabals. In all speculations upon men and human affairs, it is of no small moment to distinguish things of accident from permanent causes. At Bath, the remains of two temples, and of a number of statues, have been dug up, in laying the foundations of new streets and squares. Obs. lOO. — A sudden descent in interest is called Bathos. Thus, " To gossip is a fault ; to libel, a crime ; to slander, a sin." She was a woman of many accomplishments and virtues, grace- cxxxvi COMPOUND SENTENCES. [Pabt I. ful in her movements, winning in her address, a kind friend, a faithful and loving wife, a most affectionate mother, and she played beautifully on the piano-forte. A clergyman, preaching to a country congregation, used the fol- lowing persuasive arguments against swearing : "Oh, my brethren, f avoid this practice, for it is a great sin, and, what is more, it is un- genteel." It follows that if Beauty hath her habitation in our universe, living in the setting sun, or in " eve's one star," or sitting on the rainbow that spans the heavens, or walking over the green fields and tree-clad hills, or wading through the running brook, Making sweet music with the enamelled stones — if she dwelleth in the lily's cup or is mantled in the iris-hued mist that presides over the cataract's roar, or floateth in the fragrant air — she doth so because man is. — B. A. Thus o'er the dying lamp th' unsteady flame Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits, And falls again, as loth to quit its hold. Thou must not go ; my soul still hovers o'er thee, And can't get loose. — Addison, Caio. When the sudden descent (anti-climax) is intentional, the effect is humorous, or ironical. Go, wondrous creature, mount where science guides ; Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides ; Instruct the planets in -.That orbs to run ; Correct old Time, and regulate the Sun ; Go, soar with Plato in th' empyreal sphere. To the first good, first perfect, and first fair ; Go, teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule, Then drop into thyself, and be a fool. — Pope. Obs. I O I . — A sudden anti-cliinax may have the effect of -wit, by the collocation of ideas that at iirst seem incon- gruous. Thus : ■ and dia- monds. — The Russian grandees came to court dropping pearls \ and ver- min.-^nW- , climax. Sec. III.] ANTI-CLIMAX.— ANTITHESIS. cxxxvil These two nations were divided by mutual fear - ' and the bitter remembrance of recent losses. — Climax. I and mountains. [ — Ardi-climax. Obs. 1 02. — Antithesis adds force and clearness, but must not be excessive. Thus : All the pleasing illusions which made power gentle, and obedi- ence voluntary, are now to be destroyed. There is here a kind of formula : Gentleness: power:: spontaneousness : obedience. — Asbott. That kind of period which hath most vivacity is commonly that wherein you find an antithesis in the members, the several parts of one having a similarity to those of the other, adapted to some resemblance in the sense. The effect produced by the con-espond- ing members is like that produced in a picture when the figures of the group are not all on a side, with their faces turned the same way, but are made to contrast each other by their several positions. Besides, this kind of periods is generally the most per- spicuous. There is in them not only that original light which results from the expression when suitable, but there is also that which is reflected reciprocally from the opposed members. The relation between these two is so strongly marked, that it is next to impossible to lose sight of it. The same quality makes them easier also for the memory. — Oampbelii. Mind is invisible, but j'ou may find A method here to let me see your mind. — Montgomebt, in an autograph album. On parent Icnees, a naked, new-born child, Weeping thou eat'st while all around thee smiled ; So live, that sinking on thy last long sleep. Thou then may'st smile, while all around thee weep. I' — From the Arabic^ by Qis.'W, 3 OTjtEs. A lady complained to me that of her two handmaidens one was absent-minded, and the other absent-bodied. — Emeeson. The reasoning maid, above her sex's dread. Had dared and read, and dared to say she read. cxxxviii ANTITHESIS. [Part 1. Speech was given to the ordinary sort of men, whereby to com- municate their mind ; but to wise men, whereby to conceal it. — South. Speech is silvern, but silence is golden. He twice forsook his party ; his principles, never. Prosperity gains friends, but adversity tries them. Quintilian's criticism of a certain author was, that- his greatest excellence consisted in having no faults, his greatest fault in hav- ing no excellencies. Persecution is not wrong because it is cruel, but is cruel be- cause it is wrong. Precocious children make stupid persons ; as early-risers are conceited in the morning and vapid all the afternoon. The best speculation the market holds forth To any enlightened lover of pelf, Is to buy up at the price he is worth, And sell him at that he puts on himself. — Moobe. ExEKCisE LYI. — Complete the antithesis in each of the following sentences. Example. — Pride hardens the heart, but humility softens it. Pride hardens the heart, but humility — . Pride is the offspring of ignoi"ance — . To err is human ; to forgive — . He is young in years, but — . If we have no regard for our own character, we should, at least — . The manner of speaking is as important as the — . Almost every object has a bright, as well as — . Silence your opponent with reason, not with — . Man is intended for two distinct states of being. His first life is transient ; his second — ; the first corporeal ; the second — ; the former confined to time ; the latter bounded — . Philosophy makes us wiser ; — makes us better men. The former makes us the objects of human admira- tion ; the latter of — regard. That insures us temporal happiness ; but this — . ExEEOiSE LYII. — Correct the following sentences. Example. — The question arises whether in these extremely vio- lent cases i\ is wiser to resort to seclusion in padded rooms, with neither clothing nor bedding, or to use the muff and camisole. In Sec. Ill] ANTITHESIS. cxxxix adopting the first-named method it becomes necessary to employ additional attendants, and they must at best use force to restrain, and, besides, they will be continually in peril of life or limb. Physicians would, we believe, decide in favor of the latter method as being most humane and conducive to the comfort, safety, and health of the patient, and therefore to be preferred from considera- tions of kindness and humanity to the insane. In these cases of extreme violence, the question pi-esents itself whether it is wiser to resort to seclusion without clothing and bed- ding in padded rooms and employ additional attendants, who at best would have to use physical force to restrain, with constant danger of broken ribs or limbs, or resort to the muff and the cami- sole. When left to the physician to determine their use, we believe the latter modes of restraint would be most humane, most condu- cive to the comfort, safety, and health of the patient, hence to be preferred as a question of humanity and kind treatment of the in- sane. I beg of you, never let the glory of our nation, who made Prance tremble, and yet has the gentleness to be unable to bear opposition from the meanest of his own countrymen, be calumniated in so im- pudent a manner as in the insinuation that he affected a perpetual dictatorship. — Steele. The best way to bring a clever young man, who has become skeptical or unsettled, to reason, is to make him feel something in any way. Love, if sincere and unworldly, will in nine instances out of ten, bring him to a sense and assurance of something real and actual ; and that sense alone will make him think to a sound purpose, instead of dreaming that he is thinking.— GoiiEBiDGE. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Obs. 79. — Connection of the members, p. cxiii. Ex. XLVI — Division into simple sentences, p. oxv. Obs., 80. — Construction not to be clianged, p. cxvi. Ex. XLVII. — Heterogeneous construction, p. cxvii. Obs. 81. — Correlatives followed by same part of speecb, p. cxviii. Ex. XLVni. — Parts of speech after correlatives, p. cxviii. Obs. 82.. — Conjunctions unite same parts of speech, p. cxlx. Ex. XLIX. — Heterogeneous construction, p. cxix. Obs. 83. — " And " introduces new statement, p. cxix. Obs. 84. — Avoid "Or" where no alternation, p. cxxi. Ex. L. — " Or" changed to " And," p. cxxi. Obs. 8.5. — "Or" disjunctive or alternative, p. cxxii. Obs. 86. — " If" clauses often unnecessary, p. cxxiii. Ex. LI. — Conditional clauses varied, p. cxxiii. Obs. 87. — " If " clause to be kept distinct, p. cxxiv. Obs. 88. — Tense-forms to be repeated, p. cxxv. Ex. LII. — Improper ellipses filled, p. cxxv. Obs. 89.^ — Copula to be repeated, p. cxxvi. Obs. 90. — "To be " as principal and copula, p. cxxvi. Obs. 91. — Verb repeated to distinguish subject from object, p. cxxtr' Obs. 93.^ — "To do " not to be used instead of verb, p. cxxvi. Ex. LIII. — Repetition of verb, p. cxxvii. Obs. 93. — Subject to be repeated, p. cxxvii. Obs. 94. — Conjunction to be repeated, p. cxxviii. Obs. 95. — Corresponding conjunctions, p. cxxviii. Obs. 96. — Conjunctions omitted for abruptness, p. cxxix. Obs. 97. — Short clauses at end, p. cxxix. Ex. LIV. — Arrangement of sentences, p. cxxx. Obs. 98. — Connected clauses to be together, p. cxxx. Obs. 99.— Climax, p. cxxxi. Ex. LV. — Arrangement of members, p. cxxxiv. Obs. 100. — Bathos — Anti-climax, p. cxxxv. Obs. 101. — Anti-olimax, with effect of epigram, p. oxxxvi. Obs. 103. — Antithesis, p. cxxxvii. Ex. LVI. — Complete antithesis, p. cxxxviii. Ex. LVII. — General arrangement, p. cxxxviii. PAET II. CONVERSATION PART II. COJVVERSATIOJf. CHAPTEE I. GOOD BREEDING. All are not gentlemen by birth ; but all may be gentlemen in openness, in modesty of language, in attracting no man's attention by singularities, and giving no man oifence by forwardness ; for it is this, in matter of speech and style, which is the sure mark of good taste and good breeding, — Dean Alfobd. Awkwardness in conversation usually arises from a nervous dread of saying the wrong thing. A sudden ques- tion discomposes. No answer is at hand. To consider and devise an answer would make too long a pause, even if the mind were collected, while in fact to think coolly under the awaiting eye of the questioner is impossible. So the victim begins a reply without a hint as to how he shall complete it, stammers, blunders, and retires despairingly. A shy person not only feels pain but gives pain ; but, what is the worst, he incurs blame for a want of that rational and manly con- fidence which is so useful to those who possess it, and so pleasant to those who witness it. I am severe against shyness, because it looks like a virtue ; and because it gives us false notions of what the real virtue is. — Sydney Smtth. Recognized Phrases. — There are few such emer- gencies for which society has not provided. To devise an ori- ginal greeting for each of our acquaintances would be a task 4 GOOD BREEDING. [Part 11. quite beyond lis ; but it is conventionally agreed that all shall be contented with " How do you do ? " When we know this form of greeting, and know that it will be con- sidered suificient, our mental energy, no longer paralyzed by the dread of being found at a loss, enables us to grope about for a more special salutation, assured that if we fail to find it we have at our tongue's end a formula adequate to the oecasioTi. The first requisiteto swimming well is to be assured one is not going to drown. A diner-out of long experience has left succeeding generations heir to these two rules : 1. Always know what it is conventional to say ; 2. Say something else. A man meeting another grasped his hand cordially and exclaimed in tones of polite but uncertain recognition, "Mr. Brown, I be- lieve ? " "If you believe that," calmly replied the stranger, whose name was Hamilton, "you'll believe anything." Mr. Brown re- cognized and responded to the humor of the reply, and a pleasant acquaintance followed. Frank confession, from its rarity, often produces the effect of wit. Thus a man in whose honor a dinner was given, responding to the toast offered him, declined to make a speech on the ground that a morbid desire for originality restrained him from saying that this was the proudest moment of his life, and it really didn't occur to him to say anything else. The conventionalities of society are comparatively few in number and easily acquired. How little of the phrase of common intercourse is of modern origin is amusingly shown in the still familiar forms laid down in Swift's " Complete Collection of Genteel and Ingenious Conversa- tions," and even in the " Colloquies " of Erasmus. It is not so much that the words are stereotj'ped, though there is considerable uniformity of expression. But it is under- stood, for instance, that when one meets an acquaintance, one is to greet him, and show interest in him by inquiries Chap. I.] ACQUAINTANCE WITH CONVENTIONALITIES. 5 as to himself, his family, his friends. These hiquiries are to the well-bred man a matter of course, and are made through habit without thought or effort. Meantime one has recovered from one's surprise, has recalled what one knows of the acquaintance, his position, his history, the circum- stances imder which one has met him, and is ready without a break in the conversation to suggest some topic likely to be of interest. Were there no established forms of greeting, but were the two I'equii-ed from the first woi-d to e\olve the proper thing to say and the proper way to say it, we may be sure such encounters would be awkward and dreaded. Erasmus (1526) gives a multitude of forms for all ordinai-y occa- sions, between all sorts of persons, a fair proportion of which are still in use. Thus for "Farewell,'" at parting, we have: "Fare ye all well. Farewell. Take care of your health. Take a great care of your health. I bid you good-by. Time calls me away, fare ye well," etc., etc. Swift (1730) in playful sarcasm published a collection of "at least a thousand shining questions, answers, repartees, replies and rejoinders, fitted to adorn every kind of discourse that an assem- bly of English ladies and gentlemen, met together for their mutual entertainment, can possibly want ; " he boldly affii'med that "the whole genius, humor, politeness, and eloquence of England " were summed up in it, the last six or seven years not having added above nine valuable sentences ; he further faithfully assured the reader that there was not a single witty phrase in the collection which had not received the stamp and approbation of at least one hundred years, so that all might be relied upon as "genuine, ster- ling, and authentic." As might be expected, the collection is of shallow and slang phrases, which one might think ephemeral. Yet no small propor- tion may be heard at this day wherever people are gathered in idle mood. Some of the commonest are the following : IN ST. JAMBS' PARK. Col. AtwU. How do you do, Tom ? Tom Neverout. Never the better for you. Qol^ Why, every one a^ they like, as the good womnn Sftid when she kissed the cow, GOOD BREEDING. [Part IL IN^LOBD SMART'S HOUSE. Never. Come, a penny for your thought. Miss Notable. It is not worth a farthing ; for I was thinking of you. Lady Answerall. Well, but sit while you stay ; 'tis as cheap sitting as standing. Lady Smart, G-o, run girl, and warm some fresh cream. Betty. Indeed, ma'am, there's none left ; for the cat has eaten it all. Lady S. I doubt it was a cat with two legs. Lady A. Pray, my lord, did you walk through the Park in the rain ? Lord Sparkish. Yes, madam, we were neither sugar nor salt ; we were not afraid the rain would melt us. Col. Indeed, madam, that's a lie. Lady A. . . I don't lie ; I sit. Miss. Pray, colonel, let me see that box. Col, Madam, there's never a C (>n it. MiSs. Maybe there is, colonel. Col. Ay, but May bees don't fly now, miss. Never. Well, miss, I'll think on this. Miss. That's rhyme, if you take it in time. Never. What ! I see you are a poet. Miss. Yes, if I had but the wit to show it. . , . But pray, Mr. Neverout, what lady was that you were talking with in the side-box last Tuesday ? Never. Miss, can you keep a secret ? Miss, Yes, I can. Never. Well, miss, and so can I. {A puff of smoke comes down the chim.ney.') Lady A. Lord, madam, does your ladyship's chimney smoke ? Col. No, madam ; but they say smoke always pursues the fair, and your ladyship sat nearest. Lady S. Madam, do you love bohea tea ? Lady A. Why, madam, I must confess I do love it, but it does not love me. Never. Methinks, miss, I don't much like the color of that ribbon. Miss. Why, then, Mr. Neverout. do you see, if you don't much like it, you may look off it. . . . Pray, colonel, make me a present of that pretty penknife. Col, Not for the world, dear miss ; it will cut love. Miss. My comfort is, 'twill be all one a thousand years hence. Never. Why, miss, you are so cross I could find it in my heart to hate you. Miss. With all my heart ; there will be no love lost between us. Lady S. Colonel, methinks your coat is too short. Col. It will be long enough before I get another, madam. . . Miss, you have got my handkerchief ; pray, let me have it. Lady S. No ; keep it miss ; for they say possession is eleven points of the law. tJol. Will your ladyship be on the Mall to-raorrow'ntghtt ^'■ Lady 8. No, that won't be proper ; you know to-morrow's Sunday. Col. What then, madam ? they say the better the day, the better the deed. . . Dick Lubber said to Mrs. Talkall, the other day : Madam, you can't cry bo to a goose. Yes, but I can, saiil she ; and, egad, cry'd bo full in his face. Never. Pray, madam, smoke miss, yonder, biting her lips and playing with her fan, Mi98, Who'e that takes my name iq. v*in ? ' i > : ' Chap. I.] A CENTURY AND A HALF AGO. 7 {She runs up to them and falls dowti.) Lady A, Wliy, miss, I wish you may not have broke her ladyship's floor, Ifever. Miss, come to rae, and I'll take you up. Miss. Pray, Mr. Neverout, keep your breath to cool yonr porridge : you measure my corn by your bushel. Never. Indeed, miss, you lie Miss. Did you ever hear anything so rude? Never. I mean you lie — under a mistake. Smart. Why, Tom, you are high in the mode. Never, My lord, it is better to be out of the world than out of the fashion. AT DINNER. Col. Here, miss ; they say fingers were made before forks, and hands before knives. (Neverout eats a piece of pie and burns his mouth.) Smart. What's the matter, Tom ? you have tears in your eyes, I think ; what dost cry for, man ? Never. My lord, I was just thinking of my poor grandmother I she died just this very day seven years, {MisH takes a bit and burns her mouth.) Never. And pray, miss, why do you cry too? Miss. Because you were not hanged the day your grandmother died. Spark. What do you think of a little house well filled ? Sir J. And a little land well tilled ? Col. Ay ; and a little wife well willed ? Smart, {Carving a partridge.) Well, one may ride to Rumford upon this knife, it is so blunt. Lady A. My lord, I beg your pardon ; but they say an ill workman never had good tools. Smart. Sir John, what are you doing ? Sir J. I must do as the beggars do, go away when I have got enough. Col. Miss, I thank you ; and, to reward you, I'll come and drink tea with you in the morning. Mian. Colonel, there's two words to that bai^ain. CoU Why, my lord, you see miss has no mercy ; I wish she were married : but I doubt the gray mare would prove the better horse. Any one desiring to revel in the thousaiid more of these memor- ized witticisms, will find fchem in any complete edition of Swift's works. Not until there are fewer persons who rely for utterance upon their memory instead of upon their wit, will set phrases be restricted to their proper sphere — the verbal courtesies that ex- press good-will where it is impracticable to express anything more^ Usag;es of Society not Unreasonable. — It is therefore of importance that one should be familiar Avitli the phrases customary to polite society ; and, indeed, this knowledge should extend to all its usages. No one can talk M^ell while doubtful whetlier he is behaving properly, 8 GOOD BREEDING. [Part II. nor will his best talking avail him with those whose eyes are fixed on the social enormities of which he is guilty. Sainte-Beuve was noted for his charm in conversation, but he never received a second invitation from the Empress Eugenie, be- cause at his first breakfast he unfolded his napkin and laid it over both knees, instead of dropping it carelessly over his left knee, and broke his egg into the cup, instead of eating it from the shell. At first thought it seems ridiculous to insist upon such nicety in so- cial usages ; but, after all, these rules have reason behind them, and seem unreasonable only to those who either cannot perceive their pui-pose, or are careless of the comfort in little things of those about them. It takes- many of these trifles to make perfection in social intercourse ; but this perfection is no trifle, and must not be underestimated. Insolent [in salens, Latin) is literally only unaccus- tomed, and one is indeed insolent who presumes to mingle with others without regarding the ways and habits to which they have been accustomed. Defect in manners is usually the defect of fine perceptions. Men are too coarsely made for the delicacy of beautiful carriage and customs. It is not quite sufficient to good breeding, a union of kindness and independence. We imperatively require a perception of, and a homage to, beauty in our companions. Other virtues are in request in the field and work-yard, but a certain degree of taste is not to be spared in those we sit with. I could better eat with one who did not respect the truth or the laws than with a sloven and unpresentable. Moral qualities rule the world, but at short distances the senses are despotic. — Emeeson. Hardness is a want of minute attention to the feelings of otiiers. It does not proceed from malignity or carelessness of inflicting pain, but from a want of delicate perception of those little things by which pleasure is conferred or pain excited. A hard person thinks he has done enough if he does not speak ill of your relations, your children, or your country ; and then, with the greatest good-humor and volubility, and with a total inattention to your individual state and position, gallops over a thousand fine feelings and leaves in every step the marks of his hoofs upon your heart. Analyze the conversation of a well-bred man who is clear of the besettingr sin of hard- ness; it is a perpetual homage of polite good-nature. He remembers that you are con- nected with the Church, and he avoids (whatever his opinions may be) the most distant reflections on the Establishment. He knows that you are admired, and he admires you aa far as is compatible with good breeding. He sees that, though young, you iire at the head of a large establishment, and he infuses into his manner and conversation that re- spect which is so pleasing to all who exercise authority. Ho leaves you in perfect goo 20 TABLE-TALK. [Pabt 11. Not long after his removal from the House of Commons to the House of Lords, Disraeli met a brother peer on the street, who asked him how he liked the change. " Like it ? " exclaimed Disraeli, forgetting himself for the mo- ment and blundering out the truth, " I feel as if I were dead or buried alive.'' Then seeing the expression of discomfiture on the nobleman's face, he added hastily, with a courtly bow and an irresistible smile — " and in the land of the blessed." But such tact, however desirable, is rare, and it is the safest rule, when one has heedlessly injured the sensibilities of another to manifest no perception of it, but quietly and naturally to change the subject, taking especial pains to select one that shall gratify one's companion in some other direction, if it cannot repair the hurt he has suffered in this. It is true that ill-natured remarks like those just quoted are in themselves reprehensible. But even if one is scrupulous to speak no ill of one's neighbor, one will not always avoid giving offence. Though one go to the other extreme, and smear everything one encounters with indiscriminate eulogy, one will occasionally find that his words are as wormwood. The man of tact will therefore learn all he can of those with whom he is to converse ; will select those topics most likely to be of agreeable interest ; and when after all his pains he stumbles into a blunder, will be quick to discover it, and quick to withdraw fr6m it. Developing the Subject. — Not only the choice of a subject, but the manner of treatment should be deter- mined by consideration for one's companion. If it prove familiar and interesting to him it should be continued even after one has tired of it, or should be so changed as to seem to be dismissed, notbecause it is exhausted, but be- cause with such a eorapaniou there are so many other sub- jects one longs to discuss. Nothing is ruder than to yawn, to seem abstracted, or abruptly to terminate a conversa- tion still fascinating to one's companion. This not only wounds his self-love by showing him that he fails to talk Chap. II.] HE TALKS BEST WHO LISTENS BEST. 21 interestingly, but discloses a lack of sympathy in thought which is fatal to intimacy. A tedious person is one a man would leap a steeple from, gallop down any steep hill to avoid him ; forsake his meat, sleep, nature itself with all her benefits, to shun him. A mere impertinent ; one that touched neither heaven nor earth in his discourse. He opened an entry into a fair room, but shut it again presently. I spake to him of garlic, he answered asparagus ; consulted him of marriage, he tells me of hanging, as if they went by one and the same destiny. — Ben Jonson. Bores and Hobbies. — Against the bore, or the man with a hobby, one must of course protect one's self ; though this is done most skilfully by avoiding the former and by steering the latter away from his morbidly devel- oped ideas. But when a person will insist upon tiring one with liis pet theory or grievance, it is better to say frankly : " Mr. , you really must excuse me from discussing this subject further," than to look exhausted, or to run away from him. In the former case one will seem to him to fail to appreciate the subject, in the latter to fail to appreciate the man himself. But the necessity for such pronounced measures is not common in small talk, where the object is rather to develop conversation in one's companion than to limit it or direct it. If he is a stran- ger, one will not be sorry to see him mount his hobby for the fli'st time, and if he is an acquaintance, one can usually manage that the interview be brief. In this light conversation it is a general rule, at least to seem to follow the lead of one's companion, so far as he is willing to assume it. Importance of Listening. — It is a fundamental principle that he seems to his companion to have talked best who has led his companion to talk most. In other words, he talks best who listens best. Xowhere is selfish- ,22 TABLE-TALK. [Pakt II. ness more blind than when it monopolizes a conversation. Only small minds are more anxious to tell what they have learned than to learn something more. " Men of genius," says Coleridge, " are rarely mnoli annoyed in the company of vulgar people, because they have a power of looking at such people, as objects of amusement, of another racealtogether." " When I hear a young man call Aristotle a fool, and Sophocles a knave," said a college president, "it does not materially affect my opinion of Aristotle and Sophocles, but it gives me a gauge by which to measure the young man.'' During the late Vienna Exposition an amiable Hungarian mer- chant happened to meet in a, railway carriage a gentleman with whom he proceeded to hold conversation. " I am going to Vienna," said the merchant, " to see my daugh- ter, who is well married there. My son-in-law deals in paper and fancy leather work, and has a good trade. He is very prosperous." " I, too," said the good-natured stranger, "am going to see my daughter and son-in-law." " Ah, is your son-in-law well off?" "Pretty well ; but as he has to carry on his work all alone, it is rather tiresome." ' ' Is your daughter rich ? " " Not as rich as she would like to be.'' " She likes to spend a good deal on her toilet ? " " No ; but she would like to be able to give a good deal in charity." " She is a good woman," said the merchant, heartily ; " it's to be hoped your son-in-law's business will improve. Good-by, sir. Come to see us, and bring your daughter ; we shall be happy to make her acquaintance." The train arrived at the station, and the traveller, whose son-in- law's business was only pretty good, was immediately surrounded by grand personages in uniform. After having politely saluted the amazed merchant, he stepped into the carriage of the Emperor of Austria. The good father-in-law of the dealer in paper and fancy leather goods had been travelling with the Prince Max, of JBavaria, father of the Empress Elizabeth. Chap. II.] IMPORTANCE OF LISTENING. 23 The Wise always Ready to Learn. — There are three degrees of intelligence. Lowest is that of the rnstic, to whom everything is a marvel. Then comes the lilase, man, who has been everywhere, seen everything, read every- thing, and would be untrue to himself if he manifested in anything more than languid interest. This is a not un- common conception of " Boston culture." Finally, there is the broad mind, familiar with the master-pieces of nature, and art, and thought, but finding an ever-renewed interest in studying the effect of either knowledge or ignorance of these master-pieces upon the minds of those about him. Such men are always ready to listen, and one's mental dis- tance from them may be measured by one's tendency to assume that nothing is to be learned from a chance com- panion, especially if such companion has had less educa- tional or social advantages. " The young man called John " would, seem to most persons an unendurable infliction at the autocrat's breakfast-table, but auto- crat and professor take him seriously as a factor in life, deal with him firmly but kindly, and end by heartily liking him. . Interruptions. — There are people who never allow another to conclude a sentence. So eager are they to ob- trude their knowledge and opinions, and to hear their own voices, that they keep up interruptions so continuous that their companion withdraws altogether, leaving them to evolve out of their imaginations the facts he was willing to impart. A newspaper sketch thus caricatures an ill-bred family : The other evening the Eev. Mr. Marcus sat down at the tea-table with a thoughtful air, and attended to the wants of his children in an abstracted manner. Presently he looked up at his wife, and said : "The Apostle Paul " 24 TABLE-TALK. [:^KT IL "Got an awful lump on the head this afternoon," brol pastor's eldest son, "playing base-ball. Bat flew out of er's hands when I was umpire, and hit me right above thd The clergyman gravely paused for the interruption resumed : " The Apostle Paul " " Saw Mrs. Simmons down at Hovey's this afternoon," JKsaid the eldest daughter, addressing her mother. " She had the ssrTame black silk made over, with a vest of green silk, coat-tail^asir^ lue, over- skirt made with diagonal folds in front, e4gBd" with deep ij.'j,^mge ; yellow straw hat with black velvet facing inside the brim, and p^Bift. blue flowers. She's going to Chicago." The good minister waited patiently, and then in tones just a shade louder than before, began : " The Apostle Paul — — " "Went in swimming last night with Henry and Ben, papa, and stepped on a clam-shell," exclaimed the youngest son ; " cut my foot so I can't wear a shoe, and, please, can't I stay at home to- morrow ? " The pastor informed his son that he might stay away from the river, and then resumed his topic. He said : " The Apostle Paul says — — " " My teacher is an awful liar," shouted the second son ; "he says the world is as round as an orange, and it turns round all the time faster than a circus-man can ride. I guess he don't have much sense." The mother lifted a warning linger toward the boy and said, " Sh ! " and the father resumed : " The Apostle Paul says • " '■' Don't bite off so much," broke out the eldest son, reproving the assault of his little brother upon a piece of cake. The pastor's face showed just a trifle of annoyance as he said, in very flrm, decided tones, "The Apostle Paul says " "There's a fly in the butter," shrieked the youngest hopeful of the family, and a general laugh followed. When silence was re- stored the eldest daughter said with an air of curiosity : "Well, but, pa, I really would like to know what the Apostle Paul said." Chap. II. J DO NOT SEEK TO BE BRILLIANT. 25 " Pass me the mustard," said the pastor, absently ; and the meal was finished without further allusion to the great apostle. Listening Received as a Compliment.— No flattery is more insinuating, no proof of good sense more convincing, than intelligent listening. It is said that a deaf and dumb man, properly instructed, was introduced to Mnie. de Stael and was left with her for an hour. He made show of listening, smiled, turned his head to reiiect, was convinced, became enthusiastic, and started again and again to express his admiration, only to be once more overwhelmed in the delighted woman's torrent of ideas. At the end of the interview she declared him the most brilliant converser she had ever met. The woman of tact puts the bashful young man at his ease, not by saying brilliant things to him, but by showing interest in the stupid things he says to her till he gains confidence enough to say things better worth hearing. She knows that he will estimate the evening not by what he has heard, but by what he has said, and if she has the skill to reclothe or touch up his thoughts so as to give them striking expression, while they shall still seem to be his, she may indeed evoke less conscious admiration for her conversational talent than if she had showered him with epigrams, because he will be unaware that his unusual brilliancy is due to anything else than his own unsuspected talents ; but she will win, as she deserves to win, his far more valuable admiration of her as a charming woman. When he is older, and has learned the secret that then escaped him, he will look back upon the evening with an admiration for her skill the greater because he at first failed to recognize it, and the more cordial because it was so unobtrusive. Desire to be Brilliant. — Perhaps the greatest ob- stacle to success in table-talk is the longing to be brilliant. As Adolphus sips his morning glass at the Hathom Spring he catches the eye of M^rs. Smith, whom he met at the hop the night before. He says " Good morning," and then he is at a loss. He 26 TABLE-TALK. [Part II. knows how long she has been there, how long she means to stay, and how she likes it, for he asked her these three questions as soon as he was introduced. He does not feel like remarking that it is warm, that Saratoga begins to seem crowded, and that the races open that afternoon, because he thinks those she has met must already have exhausted these topics. What he would like to do would be to make some learned allusion .to Hippocrene or some other famous spring, with a compliment to the lady ; but he is not quite sure how Hippocrene is pronounced, or whether it was a sjjring, and he cannot think of any compliment. So after a mo- ment's awkwardness he bows and passes, leaving Mrs. Smith to wonder why young men that can dance so well are so stupid at everything else. Now, Adolphus should have remembered that conversation is like a game of whist, in which one's own hand gives no indication of what one's partner holds. The player is hopeless who throws down his cards because he has not five trumps and three aces. Weak as it looks, his hand may be just what is needed to supple- ment the commanding strength of his partner. It is his duty to play his sevens and eights for all they are worth as zealously as if they were head-sequences. So if Adolphus cannot think of a brilliant thing to say, he should throw out a common-place, and trust to his partner-. The main thing is to get started. Perhaps Mrs. Smith is brimming over with bright things, and will enjoy the conversation the more because Adolphus has so little to say that he is glad to listen. At the worst, it is unlikely that a dozen remarks can pass, however trite, without suggesting something of interest. With a stranger one must grope for a subject somewhat blindly, but unless one has the courage to grope, the subject will never come to the surface. Frank Good Nature. — JSTotliing is more fatal to table-talk than a sort of stilted dignity. Some men speak as if a leather stock kept their chins elevated like those of a militia-regiment on dress-parade. They reply to a playful question with a gravity befitting a geometrical demonstra- tion, they articulate with painful distinctness, and they continu- ally address you as "Sir," or "Madam," with a formality that Chap. II ] THE LICENSES OF TABLE-TALK. 27 shows less regard for your dignity thau determination that you shall not forget theirs. Unless this ice can be thawed, talk is im- possible. To such a person no communication should be made of less import than that England has declared war, that a new motor has been discovered, or that dinner is ready. Exaggeration of Preferences. — Table-talk is to conversation what caricature is to painting. In so brief a discussion of topics distincti^ e featp.res must be exagger- ated. Questions of taste are perhaps most fertile, and to make diver- gencies marked enough for comment, it is customary somewhat to exaggerate their expression. It is not that one should " dote on" or "detest" what one finds merely unobjectionable or disagreea- ble, but rather that one is led for the sake of discussion to take sides upon matters which he has hitherto regarded as indiiferent. Listening to masters of table-talk who are really rather conven- tional in their views one might suppose them pronounced radi- cals upon the merest trifles. This is not deception, any more than it is deception in a caricature to exaggerate the nose or chin that gives a statesman's face individual expression ; in fact, as one recognizes a face more readily from a caricature than from a por- trait, so this table-talk often reveals unwittingly more of the inner man than is shown in serious conversation. A chance confession, hastily dropped to complete an antithesis, may uncover to a keen eye what in deliberate discourse would have remained concealed. Moi-eover, this exaggerating the outlines of one's personal pref- erences often leads to convictions. Sometimes, no doubt, harm is done by espousing a belief through whimsicality and then ad- hering to it through obstinacy. But in the sparkle of table-talk the candid mind often happens upon important considerations that have hitherto escaped it, and, following a line of thought suggested by a playful fancy, arrives at convictions of positive value. Playful Liberties. — As one may speak with frolic- some exaggeration of one's preferences, so one may take playful libei-ties with the dignity of one's companions. 28 TABLE-TALK. [Pakt II. Light conversation is dull without something of the " con- tagion of hardihood" that Disraeli describes. But nothing is more difficult to hedge about with rules. Josa phine is a strong, vigorous girl, with more muscles than nerves, and more appetite than sensibility. The severer a joke the more. keenly she enjoys it, and not the less if it is aimed at herself. She cannot understand why Carolin should be hurt at a hearty laugh over a blunder committed or a weakness manifested ; and so without an unkind thought she is continually rasping Carolin's finer feelings, and wondering why the silly creature cannot take a . joke. Never Twit on Facts. — One should never rally an- other on a real weakness, however freely acknowledged. Constitutionally lai'ge eaters should be able to endure almost any kind of a joke, and especially a gleeful refer- ence to their appetites ; yet it often happens that a per- son so rallied, though too proud to show it, and therefore quick to join in the laugh that follows, is really annoyed, and loses much of his pleasure at meals because of his sen- sitiveness to the imputation of greediness. Every one has his pet foible which may not be rudely jostled ; and one should know a companion well before one ventures to poke at him any fun which has a basis in fact. A certain confidence is shown by bantering a person upon an assumed fault which the fact that we banter him upon it shows we are sure he is free from. A more unfortunate blunder, except that it was so stupid as to be ridiculous, could hardly be imagined than that of the clerk in a New Haven shoe-store who, when a lady who had dragged for half a block before she perceived them a pair of light shoes accidentally attached to her crinoline, returned to the store to remove them and to laugh over the queer accident, raplied gravely, " I saw you take them away, madam, biit I did not like to speak of it." Chap. It] THE LICENSES OF TABLE-TALK. 29 Banter. — There is in personal banter an element of sauciness as hazardous as it is delightful. Just what it is safe to say, and just when and where to say it, only native tact and quick perception can determine. It is here more than anywhere else that the artist sliows above the arti- san. ISTo rnles will avail, except the general rule, that the person who has usually blundered should hereafter leave badinage to more skilful hands. Irreverence and Indelicacy. — A similar rule ap- plies to anything bordering upon the irreverent and the indelicate. In such allusions there is an element of daring which gives a sensation of keen enjoyment to those who feel secure, but corresponding uneasiness to those uncer- tain of the issue. The difficulty is complicated among strangers, because ideals of the reverent and delicate vary so widely, that being commonplace to one which to an- other is shocking. But no caution is better worth heeding than to keep well within the danger-line. A man advertised for a coachman, and received three applicants. Of each he asked : " Suppose we were riding on top of a bluff, how near could you drive to the edge of the precipice, and there should be no danger ?" "Sir," replied the first, " I could drive within an inch of the edge, and there should be no danger." ' ' And I, " said the second, ' ' could drive within a hair's breadth, and there should- be no danger.'' " As for me," said the third, "I should keep as far away from the edge as I could ; " and the third was engaged. Prudery. — It by no means follows that one should be prudish. To speak of one's leg as a limb, or to shrink from mentioning articles of apparel when there is occasion, reveals either a lewd mind or a habit of mingling with those adhering to traditions of impropriety suggested bv lewd minds. 30 TABLE-TALK. [Part II. Ignoring Discourtesy. — The skilful conversei- ig-, nores discourtesy in speech. If his companion is rude he does not revenge himself by severe retort, liovfever apt, as he would thereby lovi'er himself to the other's level, and encoui-age a wrangle. If his companion inclines to irrev- ej-once or indelicacy he turns the subject into other chan- nels, careful not to show approval, but equally careful not to pronounce judgment of reproach for what may have been a fault of early training or the accident of the moment. His companion will recognize that he has blun- dered, but he will not be compelled to show that he recog- nizes it, and thus a conversation that would otherwise have been cut unpleasantly short may be diverted into less ob- jectionable channels. Perhaps no general rule is so nearly without exception, as that one should never permit one's self to repeat a vulgar story. Even that peculiar appropriateness of circumstances which, except for its coarseness, would make it precisely the fitting thing — a rare temptation to story-tellers — will not atone for its introduction. When a man clears his throat and hesitates and says he does not usually indulge in that sort of anecdote, some good friend should jog his elbow and warn him to pause. We have heard worthy men yield to this temptation, but never without being apprehensive for them when they began, and sorry for them when they finished. Wit, hilarity, jiromotion of the good fellowship prevailing, all prompt the man who knows a story just apropos to tell it. But not for all these considerations should he yield that essential ele- ment of a gentleman — a cleanly tongue. While one should never tell such stories, there are times when he must listen to them. With those of one's own age and posi- tion it is often possible simply and quietly to decline to listen ; but with those whom it would be unbecoming thus to reprove one must simply show lack of interest. A lady of tact used to discourage scandal by looking stupid when it was talked to her. Such refuse is not poured profusely into an unwilling ear. Harpies fly in flocks. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. VALUE OF READINESS in conversation, pp 1, 14. EASY CONVERSATION AN ART, pp. 14-16. Often even direct preparation required, pp. In, 16. Conversational artists succeed because they try, p. 16. FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE, not to sliine, but to please, pp. 16-18. Attention to others the tutor of the tongue, p. 17. CHOICE OF SUBJECT with reference to one's companion, p. 18. Rude questions rebuked, p. 18. Discretion in personal remarks, pp. 18-30. False steps lead to floundering, p. 19. Escape by rare tact, pp. 19, 20. Usually wise to betray no recognition, p. 30. DEVELOPMENT OF SUBJECT determined by consideration for others, p. 30. Not to be abruptly discontinued, p. 30. Protection against bores and hobbies, p. 31. IMPORTANCE OF LISTENING, pp. 31-35. Blindness of monopolizing a conversation, p. 33. The wise always ready to learn, p. 33. Rudeness of interruptions, pp. 33-35. Listening received as a compliment, p. 35. DESIRE TO BE BRILLLANT, pp. 25, 26. Whatever cards you hold, give your partner a chance, p. 26. FRANK GOOD NATURE, p. 26. EXAGGERATION OF PREFERENCES, p. 37. PLAYFUL LIBERTIES, pp. 27-29. The contagion of hardihood, p. 38. Never twit on facts, p. 38. Confidence shown by absurd accusations, p. 38. Banter, p. 38. Irreverence and indelicacy, p. 39. Safest to keep away from the edge, p. 39. But prudery to be avoided, p. 39. IGNORING DISCOURTESY, p. 30. How to'treat vulgar stories, p. 30. SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS. What should the astronomer have said ? (page 14). What do you think of the speakers in the incidents mentioned on page 18 ? How should Adolphus (page 25) have begun the conversation ? What do you think of this remark of Emerson's ? " 'Tis not a compli- ment but a disparagement to consult a man only on horses, or on steam, or on theatres, or on eating, or on books, and, whenever he appears, con- siderately to turn the conversation to the bantling he is known to fondle. CHAPTER III. GOSSIP. The proper study of mankind is man. — Pope. Interest in Our Neighbors. — ISTo subject is more fertile than the doings and characters of our neighbors. Few objects of observation are so varying, so personally interesting. Daily circumstances keep revealing nev? feat- ures, and dim or deepen impressions already formed. A pleasant nod, a rude reply, a becoming gown, a boisterous laugh, ill-temper toward a child, attention to the aged — trifles like these are constantly noted and accumulated to make up our final estimate of the individual. It is not that we pry into secrets. No one is more to be pitied than one so empty of mind that one's curiosity must be fed by impertinent watchfulness and inquiry about one's neigh- bors ; but without disposition of this kind we cannot fail t(5 keep learning of those about us from what they tell us- of themselves, and from what thrusts itself upon our ob- servation. That we should consider these indications, compare them, and gradually form convictions as to our neighbors' characters is inevitable. If we do so charitably, unbiassed by envy or prejudice or whim, we ai-e wiser and liappier for it. That we should compare and discuss these impres- sions of a new neighbor with tried and trusted friends — still charitably, M'ithout envy, seeking simply to know our neighbor as he is— is natural and desirable. A rule that Chap. III.] TO WHOM, AND HOW, WHEN, AND WHEKE. 33 forbade us to discuss those about us, or to discriminate in discussing them, would be severe and unwise. The Scandal-Monger. — But on no subject does it more become us to — Beware Of whom you Bpeak, to whom you speak, and how, and when, and where. For no character is more detestable than his who delights to speak evil of his neighbors in any of the degrees of gossip, babbler, scandal-monger. There are people who covet no liigher triumph than to be the first to tell of somebody's misfortune or crime. Like flies that fasten only upon putrid meat, they remember nothing of the vir- tues of their neighbors, but let slip no single item from the catalogue of their vices. To judge from their reports of their companions, one would think they had never as- sociated with a human being worthy of respect. It is witHn the power of every young man to make and keep a resolution never to utter a word directly or indirectly uncompH- mentaiy to any one. If such young persons should be offered a fortune dependent upon success in this, how earnestly would they guard every utterance. And yet no fortune would be of such real benefit to any youth as a heart pure and free from all carping and censure . — Hebvey . Owing to a strange delusion, very few are really aware of their own habit of indulgence in this vice, though they readily remark it in others. Indeed, the worst offenders would be amazed should they learn the truth. If one has any doubt about it let him set down thrice a day in a blank-book, as nearly as one can recall it, every word which one has said of anybody which one would not repeat to his face or have said of one's self. If one occasionally re- views the volume one will, in all probability, be induced to reform the habit. — Art of Conversation. Truth Often a Libel. — Detractors often excuse themselves by asserting that they disseminate only facts. 34 GOSSIP. [Part II. Even if this were true it would not excuse them. It is a maxim of English law that the greater the truth the greater is the libel. To tell what is strictly true to the injury of another is frequently as criminal as to tell what is false to his injury. It may be the same both as to the motive that actuated it and the i-esults which eventually follow. It is of tener worse than better in every respect. If one circulates what is wholly false the chances are that the slan- der will soon be detected and the person -vilified emerge from the cloud with brighter honors than ever ; whereas if we tell of a real misdeed of another he may never have the boldness to deny it, so that it will go on circulating and gaining belief all his days, and perhaps long after he is dead. It will exert a secret yet blighting influence on his repi^ation and move on before him like some un- seen hand, closing in his face every door to usefulness. No matter that he has repented of his transgression, and has radically re- formed ; no matter that he is now entitled to the highest admira- tion of mankind, some detractor has whispered a word that can never be recalled — a word which, most likely, represented him to be what he is not now, if not worse than he ever was. Yet every- body boldly and industriously circulates the report because, as he says, it is true. — Heevht. Exposure Sometimes Necessary. — Exposure of wrong-doing is sometimes an imperative duty. The good of the State, of the community, at least of individ- uals, may be imperilled by a mask of hypocrisy which only we can or have courage to remove. Ent we should be sure that our motive for interfering is really the welfare of others, and not the gratification of our own envy or fond- ness for gossip. We have no occasion to interfere with the good name of another unless we are convinced that he is making use of it to accomplish some evil purpose. A point of special difficulty arises when a person whose guilty secrets we know, and we alone, is injuring us before the public by repeating tales to our injury which an un- Chap. III.] LIBEL SELDOM TRUTH. 35 covering by us of his real character would deprive of harmf nlness. Under these circumstances it is sometimes necessai-y to speak, and to speak severely. But as a gen- eral rule, time and character are the surest vindicators. The very fact that we are aggrieved prejudices the public against our story, and often makes it wiser for us to suffer in silence. The greatest and most numerous wrongs are those which the strong commit against the weak in circumstances where none but the parties are witnesses to the offence, and in cases in which, from the imperfections of human law, redress is not to be obtained. The wise suppress such grief in their own hearts, considering that so- ciety takes no pleasure in hearing individual grievances. Though it is extremely difficult to hush injured justice, as she laments bit- terly within us, we can seldom speak in our own defence except at the cost of dignity, or probity, or candor. The aggressor who does not trouble others with arguments in his own defence is bet- ter received in society than the aggrieved who oppresses them with the story of his wrongs, by repeating which he is sure to suffer additional wrong from their reviews of the case ; he be- comes like a column which, having once begun to settle upon its treacherous pedestal, is pressed still lower by bringing down upon its capital a mass it did not before support. We had bet- ter bear in silence the wrongs ^\-e suffer than by our groanings wake up a crowd of surmisers who will, in all likehhood, take sides against us. When, however, it becomes our duty, as it sometimes does, to declare what is discreditable to another, we must strictly limit ourselves to the fact, carefully keeping clear of all comments, in- ferences, and opinions. The witness may not assume the task of the advocate or of the judge. — Hervev. Libel Seldom Truth.— But libel is seldom truth. "The originator only suspects Mr. Such-a-one has done the deed, or hopes he did it not ; the second person be- lieves it, or thinks it would be in keeping with his known 36 GOSSIP. [Pabt W. character to do it ; a third has no doubt about it ; a fourth offers to make oath that he is worse than at first sus- pected. Thus does it go on increasing both in enormity and credibility. ' Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth : ' " Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand, One took the other briskly by the hand ; "Hark ye," said he, " 'tis an odd story this, About the crows I ''— " I don't know what it is," Rephed his friend. — "No I I'm surprised at that ; Where I come from it is the common chat ; But yon shall hear : an odd affair indeed ! And that it happened they are all agreed. Not to detain you from a thing so strange, A gentleman, that lives not far from 'Change, This week, in short, as all the alley knows, Taking a puke, has thrown up three black crows," " Impossible I " — " Nay, but it's really true, I had it from good hands, and so may you." " From "Whose, I pray ? " So having named the man, Straight to inquire his curious comrade ran. *' Sir, did you tell" — relating the aflEair — *' Yes, sir, I did ; and if it's worth your care, Ask Mr. Such-a-one, he told it me. But, by the by, 'twas two black crows, not three." Resolved to trace so wondrous an event, "Whip to the third the -vu-tuoso went. " Sir" — and so forth — * ■ Why, yes ; the thing's a fact, Though, in regard to number not exact ; It was not two black crows, 'twas only one ; The truth of that you may depend upon, The gentleman himself told me the case," " Where may I find him ? " — " Why, in such a place." Away he goes, and, having found him out — " Sir, be so good as to resolve a doubt," Then, to his last informant, he referred, And begged to know if tme what he had heard. " Did you, sir, throw up a black crow ? "^ '* Not I ! " " Bless me ! how people propagate a lie 1 Black crows have been thrown up, three, two, and one, And here I find at last all coinee to none I Did you say nothing of a crow at all ? " " Crow— crow— perhaps I might, now I recall The matter over." "And pray, sir, what was't?" *' Why. I was horrid sick, and, at the last, I did throw up, and told my neighbor so, Something that was as black, sir, as a crow." Chap. Ill ] MEAN SELP-INGRATIATION. 37 Calumny May Start from Raillery "Calnmm many times originates in railleiy and extravaganza. Loose- tongned people say the worst things of tlie best men for the sake of raising a langh at the incongruity ; else tliey invent strange stories concerning some distinguished per- son, and tell them to the unsuspecting in order to amuse themselves with their credulity. These experiments often turn out more serious results than were at first anticipated. These sayings are believed and spread till they are gener- ally received as true, or till the gay babblers who started them are convicted of libel. ' As a madman who casteth firebrands, arrows, and death, so is the man that deceiveth his neighbor, and saith, ' Am not I in sport ? ' " Another type of woman frequently encountered in society is the plausible, specious, but selfishly insincere one, designated by those who know her best as a thorough humbug. Although not intending to be directly untruthful, she is very far from being ac'- curate, and it is even doubtful if she endeavors to bend her steps in that direction. Strangers consider her delightful until they have known her long enough to discover that she is dangerous, and that the pleasant things she says to them she has an un- pleasant habit of unsaying of tliem. Thus, wishing to ingratiate herself, she would say : " How very handsome your daughter looks to-night ; how beautifnlly she ifi dressed ; " and more in the same strain ; while of the same young lady she would remark, " I cannot sny thati admire Miss D., and how over-dres=ed she is ; with her mother's small mcome, it is absurd the money spent on that girl's dress ; she actually wore velvet the other night much too heavy for her,'' and so on ; or she would perhaps say to some -other' member of the family : " I hear you are not going to stay with your brother and his wife in Scotland this autumn ; I thought you went every year ; " to which her friend, not having been invited, would reply briefly, " We usually do stay with them in September, but they have not asked us this year." *' I should think you found it rather dull there," would be the sympathetic rejoind r. "Anyone so bright and clever as you are ^nust feel the want of congenial companionship ; some people, I know, consider your sister-iti-law rather heavy to get along with." '* She is very quiet and reserved, especially with people whom she does not know very well." might be the reply. " So I have heard ; but then your brother is so very genial and agreeable that ij she 38 aOSSIP. [Part II. is not a very good hostess it is not of much coasequence, although I should have thought your being ^\■ith them would have been of the greatcRt advantage to her. My husband thinks yon make such a perfect hostess that I confess I feel quite jealous sometimes,"' Whether the husband has or has not expressed himself to this extent is of little mo- ment to his imaginative "partner, who merely makes use of him as an auxiliary to strengthen ber position. The humbugging process usually has some end in view, and a lengthened visit at the house of the perfect hostess is, perhaps, on th:'s occasion, the one aimed at ; and as incense rarely fails of producing a certain pleasing effect upon a woman when offered by a man, even though offered indirectly, the lady receiving it would be very likely to say with a pleased little laugh : ■' It is very good of him to say so, but I am afraid he has not had much opportunity of forming a favorable judgment of my powers in that capacity ; but perhaps when we are settled at home again I may be able to persuade you both to pay us a little visit." '' I am sure we shall n it require any persuasion to do a thing that; would give us so much pleasure," the lady would retort ; " it is too kind of you to think of us. My husband was only saying the other day how much he should like to_seo the improvements j'ou have made at your place; we say you^ because, as he says, you have such admirable taste." After a pleasant visit has been paid, and all possible hospitality and kindness have been received at the hands of her fnend, this type of her class, true to her nature, cannot resi.->t when the occasion presents itself playing the same game for perhaps a similar pur- pose with the bef tire-mentioned sister-in-law of her friend, and enacting some such part, and carrying on some such dialogue as the following : " What a pity it is your sister-in-law does not care to stay with you at your beautiful place in Scotland. I can't understand how she can possibly find it dull there." " Did she tell you she found it dull with us? " would be the abrupt query. " Shealwaj-a appeared to be very pleased to come to us," " I understood her to say that nothing could be to dull as it was. She gave me the impression that she thought you did not pay h,er suflBcient attention when she was up in Scotland with you ; in fact, that you dirt nothing to amuse her, but I dare say she did not mean it. S tie is a littlejeilous probably of your influence over her brother ; she cannot help seeing how he naturally defers to you in everything." "I cannot forgive her calling it dull with us." remarks the aggrieved sister-in-law; " she has been so much with us since her marriage ; but I certainly shall not ask her so often in futuic, if that is her opinion." " Oh, I should not take any notice of this sort of thing if I were you. People of her volatile temperament say a great deal more than they mean ; in fact, many things which it is so much wiser not to remember ; " and by this ambiguous way of speaking she con- veys the idea that far more remains to be told, but which is discreetly withheld. The lever on which this distorting principle is worked by these ladies isnot thedown- right intention of maligning and misrepresenting a friend or acquaintance, but is the selfish desire of talking themselves into favor at another's expense ; and displacing that other, and usui-ping the vacant place by simulating an interest and strong liking, is the easiest way of accomplishing this object. Thus they continue to humbug their friends and acquaintances, and establish many feuds in many families, and create no little mischief one way and another, but are tolerated in a cci'tain degree "by some people who think it rather pleasant than not to be humbugged when thoroughly on their guard against the administrator of the dose ; and by others, because, rather afraid of what may be said of themselves, they think it wisest to stand well with the humbug ; while others, again, have yet to learn of what these wily ones are capable an4 t^^e wprth of their agreeable Bpeeches, — Society Small Tc^lH', Chap. III.] THE POET ROGERS. 39 Acerbity of Tongue a Temptation. — Ill-nat- ured I'emarks are the sorest temptation young conversers encounter. Human nature is so weak, so common is the disposition to feel better content with ourselves if others are brought down to our level, that the satirist and the scandal-monger are visually listened to. This attention they receive as complacently as though it were a compli- ment paid to their wit. Eut the real fact is that tlie lis- teners, though they are mean enough to like to have the bitter things said, are too timid to say them ; so, by their attention, they reward the back-biter as the monkey might reward the cat which burned its paws in pulling from the fire the chestnuts the monkey wanted but was afraid to reach for. ' ' When I was young, " said Rogers, ' ' I found that no one would listen to my civil speeches because I had a very small voice ; so I- began to say ill-natured things, and then people began to at- tend me." " Is that the contents you are looking at ? " asked an anxious author, who saw Bogers's eye fixed on the early pages of a work just presented to him. "No," replied the poet, pointing to the list of subscribers, " at the discontents.'' People used to manceuvi-e to be the last to leave the room where he was, assured that unkind things would be said after each de- parture by those who remained. Success like this may better be dispensed with. People may listen, but they dread and despise ; they may cringe, but they long for reprisal. We can almost for- give the cruel retort of Eichard Sharp, who, when Eogers in his old age, hovering upon the brink of the grave, repeated the couplet : ** The Robin with its fwrtive glance Comes and looks at me askance," struck in, " If it had been a can-ion-crow it would have looked you full in the face," 40 GOSSIP. [Part II. It was the opinion of Luther that Satan himself cannot bear contempt ; it is certain that man " cannot. No creature is more dreaded, in society than a sneering, satirizing, disdainful one. If ■we cannot avoid feeling an inward contempt for another, we can at any rate avoid showing him any mark of it. The betrayal of such a feeling will offend without reforming him. "We should never heed what we cannot help. — Hbevby. I remenaber that in my childhood I was very religious. I rose in the night, was abstinent, and was punctual in the performance of my devotions. One night I was sitting in the presence of my father with the holy Koran in my embrace, not having closed my eyes during the whole time, though numbers around me were asleep. I said to my father, " Not one of these lifteth up his head to perform his genuflexions ; but they are all so fast asleep you would say they are dead." He replied, " Life of your father, it were better that you also were asleep than to be searching out the faults of your neighbors." — Saadi. Family Bickerings. — Especially deplorable is the habit of speaking ill of one's family or intimate friends. The world is severe in its judgment of those who expose the faults of kindred, no matter what the provocation may be. Kiideness can go no further than to indulge in family bickering in the presence of strangers. Familiaril'y in Public. — Another criticism which I cannot help making is on the practice of using in general society unmeaning and ridiculous familiar nicknames or terms of endearment. A more offensive habit cannot be imagined, or one which more effec- tually tends to the disparagement of those who indulge in it. I find myself, after the departure of the ladies from the dining- room, sitting next to an agreeable and sensible man. I get into interesting conversation with him. We seek a corner in the draw- ing-room afterwards and continue it. His age and experience make him a treasure-house of information and practical wisdom. Yet, as talk trieth the man, infirmities begin to appear here and . there, and my respect for my friend suffers diminution. By-and-by a decided weak point is detected ; and further on, it becomes evident Chap. III.] PAMILIAEITT IN PUBLIC. 41 that in the building up of his mental and personal fabric there is somewhere a loose stratum which will not hold under pressure. At last the servants begin to make those visits to the room, usu- ally occurring about ten o'clock, which begin with gazing about, and result in a rush at some recognized object, with a summons from the coachman below. I am just doubting whether I have not come to the end of my companion, when a shrill voice from the other side of the room calls out, " Sammy, love ! " All is out. He has a wife who does not know better, and he has never taught her better. This is the secret. The skeleton in their cupboard is a child's rattle. A man may as well suck his thumb all his life as talk, or allow to be talked to him, such driv- elling nonsense. It must detract from manliness of character, and from proper self-respect, and is totally inconsistent with the good taste, and consideration, even in the least things, for the feelings of others, which are always present in persons of good-breeding and Christian courtesy. Never let the world look through these chinks into the boudoir. Even thence, if there be real good sense present, all that is child- ish and ridiculous will be banished; but at all events, keep it from the world. It is easy for husband and wife, it is easy for brothers and sisters, to talk to one another as none else could talk, without a word of this minced-up English. One soft tone from lips on which dwells wisdom is worth all the "loveys" and '■ deareys" which become the unmeaning expletives of the vulgar. • — Dean Alford. Familiarity with Others. — The clerk of a hotel sued his employers for breach of contract, they having dis- charged him before the period covered by the contract had expired. The evidence on the part of the defence showed that the clerk had indulged in familiarity toward guests who did nothing to invite it, and had thereby injured the business of his employers. It was admitted that the clerk was in the habit of addressing guests and others either by their Christian names or by their surnames only. The Massachusetts Supreme Court said : 42 GOSSIP. [Pabt II. To address a person by Ms Christian name, unless the parties have been intknately connected, socially and otherwise, is uncalled- for familiarity, and, therefore, insulting to the person so addressed. To address a party by his surname only, shows a want of respect, and would imply that the party so addressed was beneath the par- ty addressing ; therefore it is discourteous, and would be consid- ered insulting. To speak of employers by their surnames only, shows a great want of respect on the part of the employe toward the employer. The Court further held : While it may be customary for a person to address his junior clerks or under-servants by their Christian or surnames, to addi'ess others so shows a want of respect, and the party so addressed would naturally evade contact in the future with any one who had pre- viously so addressed him. Politeness, added the Court, costs nothing ; but the want of it cost the plaintiff the loss of his situation. The complaint was dismissed with costs. Influence of Language on Character, — Lan- guage exerts a reflex influence upon character. In discard- ing abusive expressions, one learns to cure the habit of thinking evil of others, and of gloating over their faults — for the " hypocrites'" who play such a part in the old- fashioned dramas — the men who use language to conceal their thoughts — are less common than one might suppose, even in purpose, and rare indeed in accomplishment. All detractors do not begin with hating the person they lessen in the estimation of others. They s/ish, it may be, to warn their friends from leading the same life by pointing out its dangers, or to clear themselves of a charge by showing where the blame ought to lie ; but what begins with gold often ends with clay. It is an inclination of the human heart to hate those whom it has injured-r . . . Solomon says, " A lying tongue hateth those that are af- flicted by it." Even when any one reports what is true, if he Chap. III.] SHARP TONGUES MAKE HARD HEARTS. 43 knows he has done it imprudently as to manner, or uncharitably as to motive, or, at any rate, to the unnecessary injury of another, he can hardly help regai-ding the injured person with unhappy feelings. Self-accusation follows every recollection of the person concerning whom he has so spoken, and he no longer finds pleas- ure in the company of one the very sight of whom brings to mind the wrong he has done him. — TTmhvkv. Dean Swift says : " They have never forgiven us the injury they did us.'' Acerbity Becomes Morbid.— The ability to say severe and cutting things, if cultivated into habit, becomes a disease, often leading even great men to strive rather that their remarks be caustic than that they be true. It must have been from what Mr. De Quincey happily calls the overmastering spirit of stating everything "in a spirit of amplifi- cation, with a view to the wonder only of the reader," that he was induced to speak as he has spoken of numerous literary celebri- ties. "Hazlitt had read nothing;" "Rousseau, like William "Wordsworth, had read at the outside twelve volumes octavo in his whole lifetime ; " and Person's " knowledge of English was so limited that his entire cargo might have been embarked on board a walnut -shell on the bosom of a slop-basin, and insured for three half-pence.'' Edmund Burke " was the most double-minded per- son in the world," and Lindley Murray, the American, is called " an imbecile stranger." Dr. Johnson "had studied nothing," and Boileau and Addison were " neither of them accomplished in scholarship." — FrrzEDWAKD Halii. Mark the coarseness into which Sydney Smith could degener- ate : " He is of the utilitarian school. That man is so hard you might drive a broad-wheeled wagon over him and it would make no impression ; if you were to bore holes in him with a gimlet I am convinced saw-dust would come out of him. That school treat mankind as if they were mere machines ; the feelings or affections never enter into their calculations. If everything is to be sacri- ficed to utility, why do you bury your grandmother at all ? Why don't you cut her into small pieces at once, and make portable soup of her ? " TOPICAL ANALYSIS. INTEREST IN OTJB NEIGHBORS, p. 32. THE SCANDAL-MONGER, p. 33. Truth often a libel, p. 33. Exposure sometimes necessary, p. 34. Libel seldom truth, p. 35. Exaggeration, p. 35. The three black crows, p. 36. Calumny from raillery, p. 37. Mean self-ingratiation. p. 37. ACERBITY OP TONGUE A TEMPTATION, p. 39. FAMILY BICKERINGS, p. 40. Endearing terms in public, p. 40. OFFENSIVE FAMILIARITY, p. 41. INFLUENCE OF LANGUAGE ON CHARACTER, p. 42. Sharp tongues make hard hearts, p. 43. SUGGESTIVE^ QUESTIONS. Read pages 216-221. What differences occur to you between talking and printing gossip ? between listening to it and reading it ? " It takes," says Thoreau, "two to speak truth — one to speak and another fo hear." Do you agree with him, and why ? What do you think of the following extract from The Century f "Of all the sources of bad manners, we know of none so prolific and pernicious as the license of familiarity. There is no one among our readers, we presume, who has not known a village or a neighborhood in which all the people called one another by their first or Christian names. The 'Jim,' or 'Charley,' or ' MoUie,' or 'Fannie,' of the young days of school-life, remain the same until they totter into the grave from old age. Now, there may be a certain amount of good-fellowship and homely friendliness in this kind of familiar address, but there is not a particle of politeness in it. It is all very well, within a family or a circle of relatives, but when it is carried outside, it is intolerable. Every gentleman has a right to the title, at least of 'Mister,' and every lady to that of 'Miss ' or ' Mistress,' even when the Christian name is used. We have known remarkable men, living for years under the blight of their familiarly-used first names, — men whose fortunes would have been made, or greatly mended, by removing to some place where they could have been addressed with the courtesy due to their worth, and been rid forever of the cheapening process of familiarity. How can a man lift his head under the degradation of being called ' Sam ' by every man, young and old, whom he may meet in the street ? How can a strong character be carried when the man who bears it must bow decently to the name of ' Billy.' " CHAPTER IV. COMMENDATION AND REPROOF. If I had another life to live, and two thousand letters to write again, with God's help I would not hurt the feelings of the humblest of all God's creatures honestly trying to do good. He might be as big as Daniel Lambert, and 1 would not call him fat and unctuous; he might be. as lean as Calvin Edson, and I would not call him a bag of bones. I would count each day lost on which I had not made some hearts gladder than they were in the morning, on which I had not plucked up some thorns or planted some flowers on the path of human life. — Dn. Prime. Importance of Appreciation. — Literature is so full of warnings against the flatterer that one might sup- pose it the serions difficulty of life to keep free from van- ity amid the showers of compliments sure to be encoun- tered. But it may be doubted whether the greater danger is not the opposite — discouragement through failure to re- ceive evidence of just appreciation. Formal, meaningless, or fulsome compliments will always be paid in number proportioned to one's ability to be of use to those who pay them. .But discriminating approval from an authoritative source, " praise from Sir Hubert Stanley," is bestowed less often than it is needed. AiJiong the minor duties of life I hardly know any more impor- tant than that of not praising where pi-aise is not due. Eeputation is one of the prizes for which men contend ; it is, as Mr. Burke calls it, " the cheap defence and ornament of nations and the nurse of manly exertions ; " it produces more labor and more talent than twice the wealth of a country could ever rear up. It is the coin of genius, and it is the imperious duty of every man to bestow it with the most scrupulous justice and the wisest economy. — Sydney Smith. 46 COMMENDATIOIf. [Part ll. Nothing can be truer than this, yet is it not equally true that among the minor duties of life is that of praising where praising is due ? Is it not as important that we should admire what is admir- able as that we should despise what is worthless ? The world is fuU of men, women, and children who are living unhappily and rusting in comparative inactivity, or doing but a tithe of the good they might do, for want of a little judicious praise. ... To shy, sensitive natures, especially, praise is a vital necessity. They need to be encouraged and caressed as truly as others need to be lashed and spurred ; and sincere commenda- tion is to them at once a tonic and a cordial, cheering them with a flush of pleasant feeling and bracing them for further good work. . . . We are confident that a large part of that conduct which so annoys us in our fellow-sinners, and which we resist in society and laugh out of it, as vanity and egotism, is the very opposite, being only an uneasy or frantic attempt to win from others an as- surance of what one himself sorely doubts. . . . Praise and overpraise are two different things ; and while the latter, when it does not disgust, puffs up and corrupts its subjects, the former, when justly bestowed, incites to new and earnest effort. It is not honest commendation that inflates, but that which we be- stow insincerely when we are angling for compliments and expect to be repaid with compound interest. — Mathews. Praise Should be Judicious. — It has been shrewdly observed that we like best to be praised for that in ns which is commonly unacknowledged. To com- pliment a beautiful woman upon her features, an author upon his books, a statesman upon his wisdoin, may afford some gratification if done with tact and with sincerity ; but to detect and commend an excellence one has only dared to hope one possessed is to bestow a real delight. Beautiful women are readily convinced by a glance or by de- meanor that their charms are appreciated. All of them, however, who have any claims to culture will, when the first tribute is paid, be best pleased with appreciative compliments paid to their intelli- gence, accomplishments, "spirit," kindness of heart, tastes, hab- Chap. IV.] HONEST PRAISE USUALLY POSSIBLE. 47 its, hopes, and associations. A very beautiful woman ■who believes that she has excited a deep admiration for some quality other than her beauty — especially if it be one for which the world gives her little credit — is always gratified. — Art of Conversation. It should be remembered that no woman ever fully foregoes her claims to personal attractiveness." " How charming Miss Pulchra is looking to-night," remarks Mr. Juvenis to his hostess. "Yes," replies the lady -with a sigh, " and none can admire her more than those who like myself have no pretensions to beauty." " Ah ! " replies Mr. Juvenis, sympathizingly, " but one so men- tally gifted as yourself can well afford to dispense with charms of person." And then he wonders why he gets no more invitations to that house. After all said on the subject, it is certain that to an intelligent and cultivated mind there are few women of intelligence entirely devoid of personal attractions ; and almost every human being, though he or she may have even relinquished all claim to be beau- tiful, still clings to the veiy last to a faith in a certain " expres- sion," which, if properly appreciated, must raise the whole per- sonality to admiration. And instances are not unfrequent in which women who were either beautiful, piquant, pleasing, or " sympa- thetic," have heard so little of the language of admiration that the first report of a really genial compliment paid them thrilled through the heart like fire. This is sometimes the case when a sister has attracted all the admiration. There are again instances in which a lady may have a good enough opinion of herself and yet be quite incapable of appreciat- ing the peculiar or real reason why she is admired. I could cite the instance of a lover of art who had a special admiration for the singular face of a statue in the Louvre, and who had the strange fortune to find it almost identically realized in the features of a young girl who was by no means accustomed to praise of her beauty. Very often peculiar associations hke this will render cer- tain countenances charming to us, which is the secret, by the way, why ignorant boys and girls, who are without such associations, are extremely critical and conventional in the judgment of per- 48 COMMENDATION; [Part II. sonal attractions, wliile men of wide experience and knowledge are far more generally appreciative and more easily pleased. In short, where we wish to compliment, the opportunity to do so with sin- cerity and credit to ourselves is seldom wanting where our tastes are cultivated. — Art of Conversation. It is said that WiUiam CuUen Bryant was very loath to condemn the first book of a young author. Entering the editorial room one day he found a critic gloating over the flatness of a volume of poems. " Surely there must be some good point about the book," plead- ed Mr. Bryant. "Not one," protested the critic; "the book is utterly stale, flat, and unprofitable." "At any rate," said Mr. Bryant, handling the volume, "you might say that the binding is neat, and that the edges are evenly cut." Praise Should be Definite. — To a commence- ment speaker, as he passed down the aisle, one friend said : " That was capital, capital ; you have made us all proud of you." At the close of the exercises another said meditatively : " Tom, your oration was one of the three hest, and I think one of the two best." Which comment is Tom likely to remember the longer ? To speak in terms of general commendation often implies no more than good will. To specify and limit shows at- tention and discrimination. Those who intend really to praise another should not speak of him in the language of hyperbole. They run the hazard of inflam- ing the envy or the jealousy of their hearers, who are tempted to run him down as far below the merited mark as he was raised above it. It is more judicious to set some bounds to our admiration and mention some fault which may be justly imputed to him, so we shall set ofi^ his virtues to better advantage, by way of shading or of contrast, and hold out to others no temptation to attack his im- perfections. — Hbbvey. Chap. IV.] fiOW TO BESTOW PRAISE. 49 Few compliments bear more stamp of the geniiine tlian the Latin verses that Addison has thus translated : TO A CAPRICIOUS FRIEND. In all thy humors, whether grave or mellow, Thou'rt Buch a touchy, teety, pleasant fellow, Hast so much mirth and wit and spleen about thee, There is no Uvine with thee nor without thee. Praise Should Come from Those Qualified to Bestow It. — " We cannot properly praise a work in art, science, or literature, unless we possess a tolerable knowledge of the subject. A person who is not compe- tent to judge of a work is permitted to say that a treatise, or sermon, or painting, or statue, pleases liim, or tell how it strikes 'his mind; but for him to declare, in a decisive tone, his opinion of such a work is to incur the con- tempt or the derision of adepts. Men of sense are not proud of laudations that do not come from equals or superiors." Do not go off into raptures at the first sight of a work of nature or of art unless you mean to show your enthusiasm rather than your taste. You had better keep silence till you have formed sgaie opinion. "While Sir Joshua Reynolds was at Eome studying the works of TSaphael in the Vatican he observed that most strangers who came to see them began to praise them the moment their eyes fell upon them, whereas he was rather disappointed in them at first, and did not begin to appreciate them till he had made them the objects of protracted study. Minds of sensitive and poetic mould are at first sight awed when they contemplate natural scen- ery of great beauty, grandeur, or sublimity ; while persons of less taste are talkative, and are apt to give the objects before them any- thing but their right names. — Hekvby. A young lady who was asked if she had seen Niagara replied that she never had ; but lest this should seem a reflection upon the cataract she hastened to add that she had heard it highly spoken of. ^0 COMMENDATION. [Part ll. Praise Should be Given Incidentally and Unobtrusively. — To hurl an unexpected compliment often produces embarrassment. Persons unfamiliar with the world, or unskilled in conversation, often express and usually feel a dislike for public praise, because they find themselves unable to make adroit reply, and are conse- quently more vexed to be embarrassed than gratified to be complimented. Few have the frank self-possession of the yonng woinan who said in reply to an ovexwhelming compliment ' from a German offi- cer, " Really, general, we American girls are so unused to compli- ments that we never have anything to reply; we only giggle." A compliment is most grateful when it comes from one who seems unconscious that he is bestowing it. An ad- miring glance, a disposition to linger near one, close atten- tion when one is speaking, appeal to one's judgment and deference to one's decisions — all these .silent manifesta- tions of respect carry weight that words can hardly add to. me slightest turn of a reply may convey a delicate compliment, as where one, instead of congratulating a friend upon securing a position, expresses his pleasure that the position is to be so well filled. To one who was humbly grateful for an office bestowed, Louis XrV. replied : " Had I known a more deserving person I would not have selected him." By omitting the not in this reply Ma- thews (in The Great Conversers, page 25), spoilg the story, making the monarch declare that he knows no person more deserving. As spoken, the compliment only implied this, and was thus grace- ful instead of fulsome. Campbell tells the same story, but locates it in England. To the question, " Are you engaged for this dance ?" some fool- ish maidens reply that they do not think they are engaged, at the same time being thoroughly aware that they are not, and the young Chap. IV.] WHERE TO BESTOW PRAISE. 5l men are also aware that the maidens are finessing and averse to making the direct admission that they are in want of partners. A young lady with tact and aplomb escapes this dilemma by replying with great readiness to the question, "I am very glad to say that I am not,'' which rejoincter is flattei-ing to the young gentleman, giving him the impression that the young lady could have been engaged for this dance had she so pleased, but that she greatly preferred waiting for the chance of his asking her to dance. She may or may not have been actuated by this hope, but if by some expression of pleasure at not being engaged for the dance which is at the moment asked for she puts her partner on good terms with herself and himself it argues well for her success iu the ball-room. ■ — Society Small Talk. Attention to the Neglected. — Compliments are especially grateful to those accustomed to be somewhat neglected. The snob is never more offensive than when in company he hastens to show his intimacy with the lead- ing persons present. The gentleman is never more to be envied than when, by choosing the society of those whom others have passed by, he shows that he has no apprehen- sion of being, like a silk hat, distinguishable only by the person to whom he is attached. The root of all exclusiveness lies not only in pride, but in fear. It is a sign not only of selfishness, but of weakness and insecurity. — Tlie Spectator. A word of kindness or acknowledgment, or a single glance of approbation, might have changed Esmond's opinion of the gi'eat man (the Duke of Marlborough); and instead of a satire, which his pen cannot help writing, who knows but that the humble historian might have taken the other side of panegyric ? We have but to change the point of view and the greatest action looks mean ; as we turn a perspective glass and a giant appears a pigmy. You may describe, but who can tell whether your sight is clear or not, or your means of information accurate ? Had the great man said but a word of kindness to the small one (as he would have stepped out of his way to shake hands with Laz- 52 COMMENDATION. [Part II. arus in rags and sores, if he thouglit Lazarus could have been of any service to him), no doubt Esmond would have fought for him with pen and sword to the utmost of his might ; but my lord lion did not want master mouse at this moment, and so Muscipulus went out and nibbled in opposition. — T%iCKEBAY. Praise Should be Honest. — "Flattery is the worst sort of falsehood. Other lies ai'e generally detected, and the liar exposed and punishpd ; but flattery is a kind of untruth wliieh the person for whom it was intended does not desire to detect, and when others demonstrate to him its falsity he is slow to admit it, because he loves to believe it true. Other falsehoods may expose us to the loss of friends, fame, or wealth ; but this nourishes into a monstrous growth the original pride of the fallen soul, and involves us more and more in guilt and self -ignorance, and consequently in ignorance of others." How is it that whenever you are thrown into the company of an unusually polite — an over-polite — person, you almost immediately distrust him ? There comes to you, acting on the nervous part of you, of which you know so little, a sense of doubt. You are not averse to polite bearing and manners — nay, you like them ; you even find it pleasant to receive the compliments so readily and glibly offered to you ; to see the amiable smile ; to watch the bow- ing head ; and there is something in the sense of reverence and respect as expressed toward yourself very flattering to your amour propre. Yet in spite of it all you are not sure of your companion's honesty. You are inclined to suspect that there is something cyn- ical behind that smile ; something hollow at the back of the com- pliment ; something unreal in the look of regard. And you do not know in the least why you have this feeling, only you know you have it. At the same time you find it so agreeable to be made so much of, to find your opinions suddenly of value in the eyes of your fellow, that you lull to rest the spirit of doubt which rises within you, and you resolve to believe yoxir new friend an exceed- ingly polished and very delightful man. —Home Journal. Chap. IV.] METHODS OF BESTOWING PRAISE. 53 But there is no resentment more bitter than one feels on being convinced that what one had received as genuine admiration vras but a skilful semblance, fabricated per- haps with a sneering contempt for the weakness that could b& cajoled by it. To this danger the indiscrimina,te flatterer is constantly exposed. Each of a dozen acquaintances yields ear to his adulation and trusts him as an appreciative friend ; but when a few of the dozen get together and compare notes, their chagrin at being deceived is transformed into resent- ment against the deceiver, the more bitter from recogni- tion of their own blindness. The Safest Praise is Quotation. — No form of commendation is more unobjectionable than the repeti- tion to a person of pleasant remarks others have made about him. If I tell John that James says lie shall never forget John's kind- ness to him in sickness, John is trebly gratified : first, that James is appreciative, which James may have been too bashful to say di- rectly ; second, that James has spoken well of him to others ; and finally, that I show my good will by repeating what James has said. As the busy-body creates dissensions by tattling unkind words, so he that will take pains to remember and to repeat the happy things his friends say of one another brings those about him into amity and good-feeling. Compliments the Happiest Avenue of Wit. — No other department of conversation affords such oppor- tunities for tact and wit. However we may be struck by the brilliancy of a satirist's scathing speech, there is always behind our admiration a mingled dislike and dread. But he who puts pleasant things into happy words is indeed to be envied. We need not stint our admiration for a witty speech prompted by a kiad heart. 54 COMMENDATION. [Pabt II. " Oh, Mr. Smith," cried a pretty girl, pointing to some sweet peas, " those sweet peas will never come to perfection." "Permit me, then," said the witty divine, taking her hand, " to conduct perfection to the sweet peas." To Oonde, afflicted with gout, who apologized for mounting the stairs slowly on his return as victor from the battle of Beuef, Louis XIV. replied, "Do not hurry, cousin; no one so loaded with laurels could come more quickly." At this court even a protest was so uttered as to confirm the obnoxious judgment while it diverted it. Annoyed at the perti- nacity of an oificer, the king exclaimed : ' ' That gentleman is the most troublesome officer in the whole army." "Your majegtyls enemies have often said so," was the reply. " Will madam permit me to take her portrait in profile ? " asks a French painter of a patron who had the misfortune to be cross- eyed ; " there is a shyness about one of her ladyship's eyes that is as difficult in art as it is fascinating in nature.'' Bantering Compliments. — Among those quick of wit and speech compliments often pass into banter, a hTiinorous exaggeration as far removed from flattery as from ill-nature. Thus in the ball-room a gentleman remarks : ' ' I envy that butterfly perched so daintily on your hair, close to that shell-like ear. What secrets would I not whisper were I so near. Happy butterfly ! " The rejoinder might be made in the same spirit of fun : " The butterfly is not so happy as you think ; I shut it up in a velvet case when I go home, for fear of losing it. Now, one could not shut you up, and you would not like it if one could." Or the retort might be, " Unlike you, my butterfly has no feeling, so it does not appreciate its happiness, which is, I believe, charac- teristic of butterflies; you ought to know something about it." Here the answer might be : "You are kind enough to anticipate my future. I have not found my wings as yet ; I am still in a chrysalis state." A lady desirous of having the last word might be tempted to say : '" Then you are safer to hold, if not so pretty to keep ; so I think Chap. IV.] HOW TO RECEIVE COMPLIMENTS. 55 on the whole you had better retain your chrysalis state for the present." — Society Small Talk. Small talk like this is possible only when both persons liave good sense and ready humor, j^o blunder could be more mortifying than to reply seriously to a compliment of this sort ; and it is a mistake to press such compliments upon those so matter-of-fact or so slow of wit as to be un- able either to reply to them or to understand them. Receiving Compliments. — Except from an older or a trusted companion, the safest way to receive compli- ments, however genuine, is to turn them lightly, or to treat them as banter or good-natured exaggeration. A French writer recommends that when praised by another one seem to be inattentive, or in a reverie. This is as rude as it is absurd, and seems to say, " Go on with your compliments ; I en- joy them too much to interrupt you. " Two gentlemen, occupying similar positions, were introduced to the same audience, in speeches equally laudatory. One began his remarks by expressing the wish that these commendations had been reserved for the close of his discourse, when it might be bet- ter judged whether they were deserved — an introduction meant to be modest, but really implying that the speaker thought it quite possible they would prove to have been deserved. The other laughingly waved off the compliments with his hand, remarking that he used to have the chairman for a pupil, and though, on the whole, he was proud of him, he was sorry to see that the boy's early habit of exaggeration was not yet outgrown. " But of course you all know him well enough to make due allow- ance," he continued, and then went on with his address, ah'eady secure of the good-will of his audience. EBPROOP. Occasion Less Frequent than for Compli- ment. — The true friend finds reproof sometimes neces- sary, but he will assure himself that it is necessary, and he 56 REPROOF. [Part II. will convey it with all the discretion and delicacy (S which he is capable. Young people usually have to learn by experience that when their friends exhibit peculiarities the probability is that the pecnliai'ities have reasons which, though perhaps concealed, are entirely adequate. It is in presumptuous- ly meddling with other people's affairs that fools of tenest rush in where angels fear to tread. The late Professor Skoda, one of Vienna's greatest surgeons, had until a year or two before his death worn garments of a most un- fashionable cut; the trousers were baggy, and the coats most ingeniously ill fitting. His friends often joked with him about the matter, and Skoda bore their ridicule good-naturedly, without making any explanation. One day a friehd observed that he was for a wonder clothed in well-fitting garments of the latest cut. " This is an unhoped-for pleasure," he cried, "to see you for once properly dressed." " Say no more;" said the surgeon gravely, " he who has made my clothing for all the years you have Icnown me did not, it is true, give it a very fashionable shape. But he let me have it long before I achieved success ; and he never pi'essed me for money when he suspected that I was pressed for it myself. How would you do, my friend — leave such a man for one who cut clothing of a differ- ent shape ? " " But why, then, do you leave him now? " " He is dead," replied Skoda. Reproof IVIay be Disguised. — The emperor Ad- rian, seeing a chief officer whom he knew to be envious and malignant turn his back to desert him in battle, stopped him and said affably, " You are going wrong, I perceive ; this is your way." The officer turned his horse as if it had been a simple mistake of his, and not a pre- meditated flight. Often reproof may be effectually conveyed by good- natured ridicule or exaggerated imitation. " Are your Chap. IV.] HOW TO CONVEY REPROOF. 57 apples no larger than that in this country ? " asked an Eng- lishman, pointing to the pnmpkins on a market-man's stand. "Apples," replied the market-man, with great contempt ; " do you call them little things apples ? Them's huckleberries." It happened in a New HampsMre town that a young native after several years of knocking about returned to his home. There was a gathering round the stove in the village store that winter evening, and he was listened to with open-mouthed wonder as he related his experiences. But there was one in the company who sat apart, smoked his pipe in silence, and gave no sign of either interest or astonishment. At last one of the party, nettled by his apathy, turned to him and said : " What's the matter with you ? You don't seem to warm up a bit." "No," he replied, slowly, removing his pipe from his mouth, "I'm a liar myself." — Boston Cultivator. But where given directly it should be open and manly. "If I must suflFer," said the old philosopher, "I would rather it should be from the paw of a lion than from the hoof of an ass." Sometimes circumstances seem to warrant somewhat vigorous treatment. " What would you do if you were I and I were you ? " tenderly inquired a swell of a young woman whom he had insisted upon es- corting home from church. "Well," she replied, " if I were you I should throw away that vile cigarette, cut up my cane for fire- wood, wear my watch underneath my coat, and stay at home nights to pray for brains.'' The walk was finished in silence, and it is presumed that for once in his life the young man thought hard. — Hackensack Republican. Reproof Should be Private. — When Socrates reproved'Plato at a feast, Plato replied that it had been better to tell him of his fault in private, for to mention it in public was an impropriety. Socrates answered : " And so it is for you publicly to condemn that impropriety." 58 REPROOF. [Part II. Commendation Should Accompany Re- proof. — It should be manifest that we disapprove not the man but this particular fault in the man, and the more because we find so much else in the man to like. Thus given, reproof becomes a compliment, for unless we felt a special interest in the offender we should not disturb our- selves to correct him. The second class of old people are not anecdotic ; they are rather hearers than talkers, listening to the young with an amused and critical attention. To have this soi-t of intercourse to perfection I think we must go to old ladies. Women are better hearers than men, to begin with ; they learn, I fear with anguish, to bear with the tedious and infantile vanity of the other sex ; and we will take more from a woman than even from the oldest man in the way of biting comment. Biting comment is the chief part, whether for profit or amuse- ment, in this business. If the old lady that I have in my eye is a very caustic speaker, her tongue, after years of practice, is in abso- lute command, whether for silence or attack. If she chance to dislike you, you will be tempted to curse the malignity of age. But if you chance to please, even slightly, you will be listened to with a particular laughing grace of sympathy, and from time to time chastised, as if in play, with a parasol as heavy as a pole-axe. It requires a singular art, as well as the vantage ground of age, to deal these stunning corrections among the coxcombs of the young. The pill is disguised in sugar of wit ; it is administered as a compliment — if you had not pleased, you would not have been censured ; it is a personal affair — a hyphen — a trait d'union, be- tween you and your censor ; age's philandering, for her pleasure and your good. Incontestably the young man feels very much of a fool ; but he . must be a perfect Malvolio, sick with self-love, if he cannot take an open buffet and still smile. The correction of silence is what kills ; when you know you have transgressed, and your friend says nothing, and avoids your eye. If a man were made of gutta-percha his heart would quail at such a moment. But when the word is out, the worst is over ; and a fellow with Chap. IV.] HOW TO CONVEY REPKOOF. 59 any good humor at all may pass through a perfect hail of witty criticism, every bare place on his soul hit to the quick with a shrewd missile, and reappear, as if after a dive, tingling with a fine moral reaction — and ready, with a shrinking readiness, one-third loath, for a repetition of the discipline. — Cornliill Magazine. Faults Should be Mentioned One at a Time. — " We ought to beware of reminding another of too many faults at one time. There are few wlio can bear accusa- tion upon accusation. It is wisest first to suggest amend- ment in one particular, and then wait to see whether the hint is lieeded ; if not, we can hardly hope that farther admonition will be." Queen Caroline pressed Bishop Bunkle to tell her of her faults. "If it so please your majesty," said he, " I will tell you of one. It is to be lamented that you talk so much with the king during divine service." " Thank you, my lord bishop,-" said the queen ; "now tell me another of my faults." "That I will do with great pleasure," said he, " when you have corrected the one I have just mentioned. " — Heevey. The Command of Friendly Solicitude. — Finally, reproof should be the command of friendly solici- tude. As the offspring of ^■anity, of censoriousness, of brutality, of desire to trample on another's feelings and watch his writhings — it is detestable. " Many coarse and curt-tongued people who boast themselves honest, are base mongrels generated between the knave and the fool.'' It is astonishing how very many pBople there are who, seemingly unable to draw a line between deception and reticence, commonly associate insincerity with courtesy, blnntnesR with honesty, as though the attempt to make things pleasant must necessarily involve deceit, as if there were a certain incompatibility between truthfulness and con- sideration for the feelings of others. How often do we hear the remark, "Oh, is a very good fellow, but I don't quite trust him, he's too civil by half," or " You must not mind 's rough manner, it's only his honest, outspoken way ; he cannot help saying what he thinks." And so, on the strenjrth of a reputation for honesty, the plain, blunt man sneers at or ignores the polish which prevents unpleasant friction, and expects to be allowed to elbow his w,iy through life, priding himself upon the abrupt utterance of un- pleasant truths, disconcerting some people, irritating and vexing others, and, by way of 60 KEPROOF. [Paet II. ' asserting his own individuality, treading without compunction upon his neighbor's finest feelings, and oftentimes leaving his heavy footprints upon hearts that arc tender, sad, or sorrowful. Persons of strong will and strong opinions are, perhaps, the most prone fo this species of self-assertion, being much given to measuring and judging everything by their own fixed ideas,, and to showing an undisguised contempt for those who differ from them; but so far from a blimt, discourteous, fault-finding spirit, with a keen eye for blem- ishes and defects, and a dull apprehension of merit, being in any way desirable, it only proves a man wanting in one of the most necessary of social virtues, viz. : sympathy. In every discourteous act he says practically, " Your comfort and convenience are of no importance to me, you are a person of no consequence whatever," and naturally under this treatment resentment is aroused, good-will Vanishes, and affection melts away. — Golden Hours. When Mr, Emerson's celestial hide-and seek was over, and the entranced audience were reluctantly going down the aisle, a venerable old trustee of the college, whose beau- tiful white head was its crown of glory for many years, whispered to me with a smile and half a sigh : '' Times have changed ! It is just twenty years ago since we had him here last to address this same literary society. When he had finished, the president, as was the custom, called upon the clergyman to conclude the sei-vice with prayer. Rev, Mr. , of W , in this State, stepped into the pulpit which Mr. Emerson had just vacated and uttered a very remarkable prayer, of which I pan remember only one sen- tence exactly : ' We beseech thee, O Lord, to deliver us from ever hearing anymore such transcendent nonsense as we have just listened to from this sacred desk.' " " And what did Mr. Emerson say? " "Nothing— oh, yes ; after the benediction he asked of his next neighbor the name of the officiating clergyman, and, when falteringly answered, with gentle simplicity remai'ked : ' He seems a very conscientious, plain-spoken man,' and went on his peaceful way." — Atlantic Monthly. The following anecdote of the founder of Methodism has, we believe, never been pub- lished. It reaphea us from a trustworthy source, and it illustrates in a remarkable man- ner the mingled piety and tact of that eminent man. Although Wesley, like the Apostles, found that his preaching did. not greatly affect the mighty or the noble, still he numbered some families of good position among his fol- lowers. It was at the house of one of these that the incident here recorded took place. Wesley had been preaching, and a daughter of a neighboring gentlfeman, a girl re- markable for her beauty, had been profoundly impressed by his exhortations. After the sermon Wesley was invited to the gentleman's house to luncheon, and with himself one of his preachers was entertained. This preacher, like many of the class at that time, was a man of plain manners, and not conscious of the restraints of good society. The fair young Methodist sat beside him at the table, and he noticed that she wore a number of rings. During a pause in the meal the preacher to^k hold of the young lady's hand, and, raising it in the air, called Wesley's attention to the sparkling jewels. " What do you think of this, sir," he said, " for a Methodist's hand ? " The girl turned crimson. For Wesley, with his known and expressed aversion to finery, the question was a peculiarly awkward one. But the aged evangelist showfd a tact which Chesterfield might have envied. He looked up with a quiet, benevolent smile, and simply said : " The hand is very beautiful." The girl had expected something very different from a reproof wrapped up iu such a felicity of compliment. She had the good sense to say nothing ; but when, a few hours later, she again appeared in Wesley's presence, the beautiful hand was stripped of every ornament except those tyWch nature had given,— Xowdow Soqi^ty, TOPICAL ANALYSIS. COMMENDATION. IMPORTANCE OF APPRECIATION, p. 45. PRAISE should be judicious, p. 46. should be definite, p. 48. should come from those qualified to bestow it, p. 49. should be given unobtrusively, p. 50. should be given where most needed, p. 51. should be honest, p. 53. The safest praise is quotation, p. 53. COMPLIMENTS THE HAPPIEST AVENUE OF WIT, p. 53. Bantering compliments, p. 54. How to receive compliments, p. 55. REPROOF. Occasion less frequent, p. 55. May be disguised, p. 56. Should be open and manly, when direct, p. 57. Should be private, p. 57. Accompanied by commendations, p. 58. Only occasional, p. 59. The command of friendly solicitude, p. 59. SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS. What do you consider most important, and most likely to be useful, praise or reproof ? Do you agree with Sydney Smith (page 128) that the dread of ridicule improves manners ? What had Mr. Juvenis (page 47) better have said ? How may young people (page 47) most quickly " unlearn contempt" ? Would Mr. Bryant's praise (page 481 have pleased the author ? Do you justify Plato (page 57) ? CliAPTEK V. DISCUSSION. In reply to a question whether there had been any conversation at a party from which he had just come. Dr. Johnson replied ; "No, sir ; we had talk enough, but no con- versation ; there was nothing discussed,^'' Advantages and Dangers Sydney Smith has thus epitomized the advantages and the dangers of argu- ment in conversation : "When two men meet together who love truth, and discuss any difficult point with good-nature and a respect for each other's un- derstandings, it always imparts a high degree of steadiness and certainty to our knowledge ; or, what is of nearly equal value and certainly of greater difficulty, it convinces us of our ignorance. It is an exercise grossly abused by those who have recourse to it, and is very apt to degenerate into a habit of perpetual contradiction, which is the most tiresome and the most disgusting in all the cata- logue of imbecilities. It is an exercise which timid men dread — from which irritable men ought to abstain ; but which, in my hum- ble opinion, advances a man who is calm enough for it and sti-ong enough for it, far beyond any other method of employing the mind." Let us examine these specifications in detail. Contradiction is Not Argument Axiomatic as this principle seems when stated, one seldom listens long to an argument without hearing it Yiolated. It is always easier to asSert than to prove, especially those opinions in which we have grown up, and which seem to us as fundamental facts as light, and air, and water. Says Augustine, " If you ask me what is time, I do not know; but I know quite well if you do not ask me.'' Chap. V.] C03SfTRADICTI0J>r NOT ARGUMENT. 63 It is as difficult to defend life as it is to define it. Unless a man knows wliat life is, we cannot define it to him ; unless he feels that it is good to live, we cannot refute him when he argues that it would have been better not to have been born. " Give your judgment," said an old judge to a younger brother on the bench, " but don't give yourreasons. The judgment may be right, but the reasons are pretty sure to be wrong." After all, however, in some subjects no language can accurately convey (to the inexperienced, at least), all the indications which in- fluence the judgment of an acute and practised observer. And hence it has been justly and happily remarked that " he must be an indifferent physician who never takes any step for which he can- not assign a satisfactory I'eason." — Whatelt. Besides, there is liardly any question so firinly settled that ingenuity will not devise an argviment plausible enough to. startle one if it come upon one unexpected. A criminal, convicted of the murder of his father and mother, and asked if he had anything to say for himself, merely begged that the judge would have mercy upon a poor orphan. An Iowa man, annoyed that a relative would concede no supe- riority in that State over New Hampshire, at last exclaimed, ' ' At least you'll admit that Iowa is bigger." " I don't Imow about that," was the cautious reply ; "maybe it is a little further from end to end, all flattened out into a level ; but if you wrinkled it up into mountains six thousand feet high, I guess you wouldn't cover much more floor-space than the old Granite State. " Archdeacon Denison was once closely pressed in an argument, but had evidently resolved to die hard. At length his antagonist, a virtuous engineer of the Smiles ideal, lost all patience at the ir- regular warfare of the archdeacon. "Look here, sir,'' he ex- claimed, despairingly, "do you acknowledge that two and two make four?" "lam not prepared to make an admission of that importance," replied the archdeacon, "till I have given the sub- ject the maturest consideration. Sometimes it is supposed that they make twenty-two." Perhaps nothing could seem more hopeless than to argue that revenge was a factor of civilization, and yet it will probably be no 64 DISCUSSION. [Part II. slight task to refute the following plea from a recent number of the Pall Mall Gazette : " In savage society, that is, in any society where law has no force, from Texas to Greenland— revenge takes the place of faith, hope, charity, and justice. It is the virtue without which the social organization would cease to exist. Tribes and families could scarcely have survived if the members of either association bad good-natturedly abstained from revenging themselves. Nothing could have prevented the scores of rival families and tribes from exterminating people who did not resent an injury. " Now, it is imprudent to make a duty which is universal too difficult of accomplish- ment. It would have been difficult always to hit upon and slay the ulan who was guilty of each particular offence to person or property. Early custom, therefore, permitted re- venge to be taken on any blood relations of the culprit within seven degrees. A man speared your grandmother because your uncle had devoured bis nephew. Your duty was done if you tortured his second cousin to death over a slow fire. Honor and custom were satisfied for the moment. " This does not seem a promising state of things, and yet it was full of the seeds of milder manners. Families became interested in preventing even their poor relations from using axe or bow too hastily. There was no satisfaction in being speared because sorao long-lost uncle or cousin, with whom one was not on speaking terms, had indulged him- self in a man-slaughter. Thus the members of families found it convenient to keep an eye on each other's movements, and to give up their culprits to be dealt with by a central authority. Gradually law came into existence, and revenge ceased to be the chief end of man." The fact is, few people appreciate the difficulty of de- fending an opinion against a skilful opponent ; and those who fail to detect a fallacy, or lose sight of their own main argument, have the annoyance of feeling that though they are right they cannot prove that they are. Sometimes the truth may be estabUshed by reducing a fallacious conclusion to a practical absurdity. " Father," said a Freshman, home on his first vacation, " how many chickens are there on the table? " "Two, my son." ''No, sir, there are three, and I can prove it. There is one, isn't there?" "Yes, my son." " And there (pointing to the other) is two, isn't there ? '* "Yes, my son." " And one and two make three, don't they ? " " Yes, my son ; what a great thing learning is, to be sure. Well, cince there are three chickens there, I will hand this one to your Chap. V.] DIFFICULTY OF DEFENDING AN OPINION. 65 mother, I will take this one myself, and you shall have the third for your logic.'' Especially humiliating are the defeats of those who, having listened to a single argument or read a single treat- ise on some subject hitherto uninvestigated by them, sup- pose that they have mastered the subject itself, and in proceeding to make converts happen upon somebody who knows not only this argument and its history, but a dozen that refute it. How such a disputant appears to a man of broad information is thus illustrated in Coleridge's " Table-Talk : " Mr. is, I suppose, one of the rising young men of the day ; yet he went on talking the other evening and making remarks with great earnestness, some of which were palpably irreconcilable with each other. He told me that facts gave bii-th to and wei-e the ab- solute ground of principles ; to which I said that unless he had a principle of selection he would not have taken notice of those facts on which he grounded his principle. You must have a lan- tern in your hand to give light, otherwise all the materials in the world are useless, for you could not find them, and if you could you could not arrange them. "But then," said Mr. , "that principle of selection came from facts." "To be sure," I replied, "biit there must have been again an antecedent light to see those antecedent facts. The relapse may be carried in imagination backwards forever, but go back as you may you cannot come to a man without a previous aim or principle." He then asked me what I had to say to " Bacon's Induction." I told him I had a good deal to say, if need were ; but that it was perhaps enough for the occasion to remark that what he was veiy evidently taking for the Baconial /reduction was mere Deduction — a very diflferent thing. When practical demonstration is impracticable, and es- pecially when one begins to feel his position really inse- 66 DISCUSSION. [Part II. cure, the temptation is strong to make up in loitdness of tone what one lacks in clearness of tiionght, and to substi- tute contradiction for argument. Since this impulse is felt even by a man honestly defending his convictions, it is easy to conceive the fascination it has for the young man without convictions who is merely anxious to attract attention. " What did you think of my argument ? " asks Jones of a com- rade. " It -was sound — very sound ; in fact, it was nothing but sound." Here even Dr. Johnson showed weakness. This grew in part out of his love for paradox, in which feature he bore a strong resemblance to the wits of Madame Geoffrin's sakm. To this source is to be attributed the strange lack of uni- formity and consistency in his opinions, it being his custom to be in the opposition, to whichever side of the question he might be driven. At one time good and at another evil was predominant in the constitution of the world. Now he would deplore the non- observance of Good Friday, and now deny that there was any de- cline in the observance of religious festivals. He would sometimes contradict self-evident propositions, such as that the luxury of the country had increased with its riches, and that the practice of card- playing was more general than formerly. He would meet a sound argument with a "What then, sir?" or a "You do not see your way through the question, sir," or, " Sir, you talk the language of ignorance ; " and when he was compelled to give his assent, which he always did reluctantly, he would pi-eface it with a "Why no, sir." — Hervby. The habit of contradicting, into which young men — and young men of ability in particular — are apt to fall, is a habit extremely injurious to the powers of the understanding. I would recommend to such young men an intellectual regimen of which I myself, at an earlier period of life, have felt the advantages : and that is, to assent to the first two propositions that they hear every day ; and not only to assent to them, but, if they can, to improve and embel- lish them, and to make the speaker a little more in love with his Chap. V.] NOT VICTORY, BUT TKTTTa. 6T own opinion than he was before. When they have a little got over the bitterness of contradicting they may then gradually increase the number of assents, and so go on as their constitution will bear it, and I have Tittle doubt that in time this will effect a complete and perfect cure. — Sydney Smith. The Strife Should be Not for Victory, but for Truth. — Among the advantages of discussion enumerated by Sydney Smith there is no mention of gratifying one's vanity by showing that one can confute a companion ; yet with many disputants that would seem the sole occasion for argument. No self- defeat could be more utter. Grant that such a one has nothing to learn, that wisdom will die with him, that the sole purpose of argument is to display one's skill, and yet he fails of his end ; for tlie success in argiiment is attained not by confuting, but by convincing ; and a man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still. It costs a man less to admit that his heart is hard than that his brain is weak. Often one persists in error to escape confessing that he has been in error. Such a person may be led gently and circuitously to positions into which he could never be pushed, as has been illustrated so well in the fable of the north and the south winds. By a series of flank movements, skilfully continued, he may be induced to propose as original, and to urge upon his op- ponent the very view which that opponent has artfully implanted, knowing that the germ thus unconsciously received would develop into a conviction against which in its completeness he would have revolted. This is art concealing art, a perfection impossible to the egotist, who is never content unless his agency is manifest. As he is the best executive who never meddles with what is al- ready satisfactory, and who knows that he is governing best when he seems not to be governing at all, so he achieves the greatest victory in argument who seems never to care for victory, who is willing to seem to be informed by his opponent of the very prin- ciples it has taken him hours to instil into that opponent. It may be urged that this mode of argument is insidious ; that ^8 DISCUSSION. [Part II. to seem to be oonTxriced by anotbei' of what one is really convin- cing Mm involves an element of deception. But in itself the method is simply a concession to another's weakness, and to em- ploy it is right or wrong according as oiu- purpose is to impress the truth or to instil an error. That it is a frequent device of evil men merely shows that it is time good men were familiar with it. We are commanded to be wise as serpents, as well as harmless as doves. Besides, among fair-minded m^en this is miieh more likely to lead to truth than the " bow-wow " manner of Dr. Johnson, crushing down opposition and enforcing si- lence where one cannot carry conviction. One often starts out to convert another, and ends by being himself con- verted, because a fair discussion reveals new considera- tions. But if one is intent upon discomiiting and demol- ishing an opponent, one will seek rather to silence him than to hear him. " I am one who would gladly be refuted if I should say any- thing not true, and would gladly refute another should lie say anything not true ; but would no less gladly be refuted than re- fute ; for I deem it a greater advantage to be freed from the greatest of evils than to free another ; and nothing, I conceive, is so great an evil as a' false opinion on matters of moral concern- ment." — SooBATBS (in the Gorgias of Plato). Swift has observed that " it is a short way to obtain the reputa- tion of a wise and reasonable man, whenever anybody tells you his opinion, to agree with him." But this is satire, and must be taken with a whole bag full of salt. The companion we value most is he who gives us new thoughts and suggestions, but so skilfully as never to wound our self-love. We enjoy most, not the argument in which our opponent yields without an effort, but that in which he strives manfully and ably, and finally barely yields, just as we were ourselves losing confidence in our own side. A story is told of a man thrown from his horse and obliged to lie for weeks at an inn where he could get no other reading than a lot of agricultural reports. For sheer lack of other occupation Chap. V.] SPECIAL SUGGESTIONS. 69 he studied agriculture as a science, not dreaming it would ever be of use to him. But a while after he wanted to marry the daughter of a wealthy farmer who was opposed to a city young man for a son-in-law. Bethinking himself of his agricultural information, he began to devote his visits to the father instead of the daughter, argued with him for hours on questions of which the farmer had far less general knowledge, and regularly pushed the farmer, point by point, to where defeat stared him in the face, and then unob- trusively suggested considerations which the fai-mer seized and won the victory with, while the young man won the daughter. Some special suggestions may be of service. a. Be Always Ready to Listen Reason teaches that the first step in a sound argument is to ascertain how far one agrees with one's opponent, and at what point their convictions begin to diverge. Thei-e is something extremely fascinating in quickness, and most~ men are desirous of appearing quick. The great rule for becom- ing so is by not attempting to appear quicker than you really are ; by resolving to understand yourself and others, and to know what you mean and what they mean, before you speak or answer. Every man must submit to be slow before he is quick, and insignificant before he is important. The too early struggle against the pain of obscurity corrupts no small share of understandings. — Sydney Smith. Before the late civil war, when opinions were the most pro- nounced, a merchant in Boston was arguing as to some political measure. The discussion had continued for some time, and was growing warm, when his friend exclaimed : " But you are too fast, Mr. ; you begin by assuming that slavery is wrong.'' " Sir,'' said the merchant, stepping neiwously back, " I am willing to give money and time to educating the masses on this question, but you must take your chances with the crowd ; I have no time to spend on an individual fool. Good morning." b. Concede All that is Unessential. — Nothing more distinguishes a great mind from a little one than TO DISCUSSION. [Part II. recognition of the essential, and concentration upon it. This is indicated in the very word TnagnaoiiTuityy great- mindedness, which yields to an opponent everything but the essential truth. For instance, your opponent should be free to use his own language and methods of reasoning. His mind will be occupied enough Avitli the thought, and should be al- lowed to express itself according to habit. To divert it by verbal criticism would merely distract and confuse. " Now, my man," said a lawyer to his witness, " tell us exactly what passed." '* Yes, sir. T said I would not have the pig." *' And what was his answer ? " " He said he had been keeping it for me, and that he ' "No, no, he could not have said that. He spoke in the first person." " No, sir, I was the first person who spoke." *■ Don't bring in the third person ; repeat his exa,ct words." " There was no third person, sir ; only him and me." *' My good fellow, he did not say ' He had been keeping the pig.' He said, ' I have been keeping the pig.' " " I assure you, sir, there was no mention made of yourself at all. We are on differ- ent stories. There was no third person there, and if anything had been Baid about your keeping a pig for me I should have heard it." Cross-examination. — In this case, if the witness had been called for the prosecution, it might have been claimed that it was the lawyer's object to confuse him, and thereby render his testimony valueless. The following is an example of a sort of cross-question- ing sometimes supposed to be as effective as it is unfair. *' You say you know Mr. Smith." "Yea, sir." *■ ' You swear you know him ? " "Yes, sir." ' ' You mean you are acquainted with him ? " " Yes, sir, acquainted with him." "Oh, you don't know him ; you are merely acquainted with him. Remember that you are on oath, sir. Now, be careful. You don't mean to tell the court that you know all iibout Mr. Smith, everything that he ever did ? " "No, I " "That'll do, sir. No, you do not. Very good. So you are not acquainted with all his acts ? " " Of course " " Stop there. Are you, or are you not ? " *'No.» *' That is to say you arq not so well acquainted with him as you thought you were ? " Chap. V.] LEGAL CROSS-EXAMINATION. 71 *' Possibly not." " Just so. Now we begin to understand each other. If you dont know anything about Mr. Smith's acts when you are not with him, yoii can't swear that you know him, can you ':" " If you put it in thai, way " " Come, sir, don't seek to evade my question. I'll put it to you iigain. When you say you know Mr. Saiith, you don't mean to say you know everything he does ? " "No, sir, of course not." " Just so ; of course not. Then you were not quite correct when you said you knew Mr. Smith ? " " No, sir." "Ah, I thought BO. That'll do, sir. You can stand down." — Boston Transcript. Such questioning has made the witness-stand a terror to many worthy people, but its expediency may be questioned, even when its end is attained. For the case is tried before a judge or a jury quite ready to estimate the deserts of a client whose lawyer is obliged to rely upon such methods. Besides, not all "vpitnesses are easily brow-beaten. A cool head and a quick wit will often hurl upon the lawyer's head the very confusion he has heaped up for the witness— the more easily because the witness, like all weaker parties, has the sympathy of the spectators. Even Daniel Webster occasionally met his match in such an encounter. In the some- what famous case of Mrs. Bogen's will, which was tried in the Supremo Court, he ap- peared as counsel for the appellant, Mrs. Greenough, wife of the Rov. William Greenough, a tall, straight, queenly woman, with a keen black eye, a woman of great self-popse.ssion and decision of character, was called to the stand as a witnc-^s for the opposite side. At a glance. Webster saw that her testimony, if it contained anything of importance, would have great weight with the court and jury, and he resolved, if nossiUle, to break her down. Notwithstanding his repeated efforts to disconcert her, she calmly continued her testi- mony, until Webster, becoming fearful o£ the result, made a supreme effort. He arose, apparently in great agitation, drew out his large snufE-box, thruf-t his thumb and finger to the very bottom, carried the deep pinch to both nostrils, and drew it up with a gusto. Then extracting from his pocket a very large handkerchief, which flowed to his feet as he brought it to the front, he blew his nose with a report that rang distinct and loud through the crowded haU, and asked : '•Mrs. Greenough, was Mrs. Bogen a neat woman ? " -. " I cannot give full information as to that, sir. She had one very dirty trick." " What was that, ma'am ? " *' She took snuff." The roar of the court-house was such that Mr, Webster sat down and neither rose nor spoke again till Mrs. Greenough had vacated her seat for another witness. In reporting the Gniteau trial a newspaper correspond- ent wrote : ' ' Judge Porter*s system of cross-examination is the antagonistic one. His aim is to break a witness down, to catch him in a lie or 72 DISCUSSION. Pabt II. a contradiction. This is the old method. It is more honored in the breach than in the observance. The subtlest modern lawyers, like Tilden, Evarts, Gushing, the late Lord Cockburn, and others, have won successes with the sympathetic method, which prove it by far the better, and which should relegate the antagonistic method to the limbo of the obsolete. "The Porter method puts the witness on his mettle, teaches him the processes of the lawyer, enables him to anticipate his pur- poses, makes his mind work like lightning, and breaks down the lawyer twice as often as it breaks down the witness. "By the sympathetic method, the witness is never doubted, de- nounced, or discouraged. He is seduced into pouring out his ver- sion in a great variety of editions. His idiosyncrasies and weak- nesses are deferred to. A fatal fluency in him is excited by all the art's known to courtesy and acting. The examiner shows his every feeling, and the witness is delighted — until the summing up. He then finds, if he has not suspected it before, that he is likely to have issued about five versions of everyrfact, which differ enough to be easily made to seem conflicting ; and that such a photograph of his weaknesses has been taken as, under the light of logic and sarcasm, tells trenchantly agajnst him with the jury and with the public. He forgets the lawyer and himself in his pleasure to talk and talk again. The lawyer never forgets him once, as the sum- ming up shows. '' c. Stop When No Approach is Making to Truth. — "Discoverers of truth," says Cpwper, "are generally sober, modest, and humble ; and if their discov- eries are less valued by mankind than they deserve to be, can bear the disappointment with patience and eqnality of temper. But hasty reasoners and confident asserters are generally wedded to an hypothesis, and, transported witli joy at their fancied acquisitions, are impatient under con- tradictions, and go wild at the thought of a refutation." 1. Never Compel Discussion. — " To compel a man to dis- cuss with you who cannot play the game, and does not like it," says Sydney Smith, " is as unfair as to compel a Chap. V.] WHEN TO AVOID DISCUSSION. Y3 person to play at chess with you under similar eirciim- stances." For this reason it is rude to continually compel expression of opinions by inquiry, or by appending a " Don't you think so ? " to a statement of one's own views, since it forces one's companion either to assent to what he may not believe, or to formulate and defend an opinion that is but vague, and that he is not interested enough in to dwell upon. 2. Avoid Discussion with Those Unfittedfor It. — When Hercules descended to the lower world he was confronted by the shade of Medusa. He was about to draw his sword, when Mercury reminded him that it was only a phantom. He returned his sword to his scabbard. Even Hercules had no strength to waste on a shadow. But when a detrimental opinion, though absurd and trivial in itself, is likely to gain currency from the earnestness and pre- tension of its advocates, it then" becomes our duty to set it in a proper light. In silencing such persons we must proceed accord- ing to the lights and shades of circumstances. Solomon points out both the Scylla and the Oharybdis, of which he would have us steer clear. On the one hand we have, " Answer a fool according to his folly lest he be wise in his own conceit ; " on the other, "Answer not a fool according to his folly lest thou be like unto him." The first direction is applicable to cases where pride or vanity calls aloud for rebuke. If he is impudent or mde, we are to treat him with severity ; if positive, we must be equally positive, and not be tender of the feelings of one who is destitute of the sensibilities of the human kind. By a satirical imitation of his own language we are to show him to himself as a mirror ; by copying his air, tone, or mode of reasoning we are to make him ashamed for his corruption and shallowness. By the second direction we are to understand that it is not our duty to correct an immoral person in his own language, when it is profane or obscene, or to reply at all when his speech or behavior is of a description to render him undeserving of the intercourse of his species, or when a reply would be a self-degradation. — Hebvut. 74 DISCUSSION. [Part II. A day or two ago when a servant opened tlie side door of a house on Sibley Street, in response to a tramp's knock, her face looked so kind and benevolent that the hungry roan had no doubt that a good dinner awaited him. He had, Uowever, laid out a certain pro- gramme, and he therefore began : ' ' My dear woman, I haven't had anything to eat for two days, and I wanted to ask if you would spare nie one of those icicles which has fallen from the eaves ? " "Well, I dunno,'" she slowly replied, as she looked out, "I suppose we might spare you one, if you are really sufiering, but, of course, you won't take the largest and best ? " He stepped down and selected an icicle about two feet long, and, in a hesitating man- ner, inquired : "If you would only sprinkle a little pepper on this I would be forever grateful." " It's rather bold in you to ask it, but I suppose I can sprinkle on a little — a very little," she replied, and she got the pepper and dusted his "luncheon " very sparingly. He started to move away, but, seeming to recollect something, he tm-ned and said : *' You seem so benevolent Til ask you to sprinkle on a little salt as well. I like my icicles seasohed up pretty high." *' You are a bold man, sir, and it's plain you have the appetite of a glutton, but I'll give you a bit of salt and then you must be gone," she replied. When the icicle had been duly salted, the man expressed his thank.«, but didn't move away. His game wasn't working to' suit him. Some folks wouldn't have stood there arcM seen him bite off the end of a big icicle, but the girl did. And, further, when lie -hesi- tated to go, she indignantly called out : " I know what you want. You now want me to warm the icicle in tJve oVen for you and then put on some mustard, but I'll never, never do it ! " The man moved slowly out of the gate, and, as he threw his icicle at a passing dog, he gave utterance to hia disgust in language punctuated entirely with slungshota. — De- troit Free Press. 3. Avoid Discussion Too Weighty for the Occasion. — A tlioiightfnl man, introduced at a party to a ladj whose ap- pearance pleased him, found that she was familiar with the kindergarten system of instruction, in which he was just becoming interested. An earnest discussion followed, so delightful to both that they were thoroughly engrossed in each other, and parted with the warmest expressions of good will. Soon after, seeing her again, he was about to readdress her, when a friend interposed and said, " Mrs. made me promise that I would keep you away from her this evening. She was so wrought up by j'our conversation the other night that she was ill for some days. She says your talk is too fascinating ; she cannot bear the mental strain." The gentleman was inclined to resent this excuse as Chap. V.] WHEN TO AVOID DISCUSSION. 76 sarcastic, but his friend assured him the ladj was entirely candid. She enjoyed talking with him. ; in the exhilara- tion of the moment she could sustain her part ; but it was mental exertion too vigorous for her, and the reaction was painful. 4. Do Not Introdnice a Known Hohhy. — A hobby is by definition unreasonable — that is, imsustainable by argu- ment ; hence, after it has been stated and has become famil- iar, it is wearisome. In general one should be wary of in- troducing and continuing the discussion of subjects that cir- cumstances make more interesting to him than to the rest of the company. The author's books, the actress's triumphs, the traveller's adventures, the veteran's battles, even a man's daily experience in his business or profession, all have their place in conversation, but only such place as the others cheerfully grant. Even when a hobby is attacked, you will not aid yourself or your cause by disputing over it. If you are boldly attacked rep- utable people will give you much more credit for gracefully evading a strife of opinions than for entering upon it. Ladies who have a true claim to the name invariably appreciate and ad- mire such conduct in a man. Much more skill and sagacity may be shown in refusing to argue than in so doing ; the one who seeks to escape having the great advantage of being able to make his ad- versary, appear determined to appear disagreeable and discourteous. — Art of Conversation. For the same reason one should avoid reference to the hobbies of others. You run a great hazard by making the slightest allusion to their favorite theme ; they will, in all likehhood, hold your button an hour for your pains. When two or more persons are known to hold opposite opinions on a subject, and are used to dispute con- cerning it, we do well not to refer to the vexed question in their 76 DISCUSSION. [Part II. hearing. To start that topic were as wanton a cruelty as it would be to set two pugnacious dogs by the ears.-^HJEETBY. d. Yield Gracefully when Convinced. — Whate- ly remarks : " It may be added that it is a very fair ground^ for disparaging any one's judgment if lie maintains any doctrine or system avowedly for the sake of consistency. That must be always a bad reason. If the system, etc., is right, you should pursue it because it is right, and not because you have pursued it hitherto ; if it is WTong, your having once committed a fault is a poor reason for persisting in it. He, therefore, who makes such an avowal may thenceforward be considered as having no voice in the question. His decision having been already given, once for all, with a resolution not to reconsider it or to be open to conviction from any fresh arguments, his redecla- rations of it ai'e no more to be considered acts of judgment than new impressions from a stereotype plate are to be considered new editions." He that is never a fool, runs the proverb, is always a fool. Or, as Josh Billings puts it, " The wise man is not the one who never makes a mistake, but the one who never makes the same mistake twice.'' As a matter of fact, a certain dislike attaches to one who is never in the ^vl■ong, well illustrated in the follow- ing story : To the celebrated Mme. Geoffrin, who assembled at her house the first men of letters of her time, the Marquis of Saint Lam- bert introduced an estimable man of learning, known by excellent works he had written on political economy. For three months the poet's protegi never failed to be present at the lady's receptions, but one day when he was about to enter, a servant stopped him at the door and said gravely : ' "Madame cannot see you to-day." " How— is she gone out ? But I see M. Morrelet enter, and M. Chap, v.] disadvantage OF BEING ALWAYS EIGHT. 77 Thomas. "Wty, there is the Abbe Delille humming an air at the window. Ha, good day, M. I'Abbg. How is our dear lady to- day ? I'm svffe she is at home.'' "Madame, sir, cannot see you." "But is she ill then? Of course not, since I hear Diderot's loud laugh, and if Mme. Geoffrin were not in health " " Sir, I beg ten thousand pardons, but I have simply to say that madame cannot see you." The author bowed, and went to his patron. He could make nothing of his strange receptioij. Had he com- mitted some blunder ? The author endeavored, but in vain, to show that he had been in the right in order to prove that Mme. Geoffrin was in the wrong. Saint Lambert listened to the end, and only interrupted the eloquent pleading with the words : "You are in the right, my friend; a thousand times in the right. " When he had concluded. Saint Lambert took from the chimney- piece a letter, of which he broke the seal, and presented it to his protege, inviting him to read it. It was addressed to the marquis by Mme. Geoffrin, and contained the following lines : "I close my doors, my dear marquis, on your learned M. B ; should I see him often I should be vexed to death ; and as it hap- pens I am still a little attached to life — thanks to your friendship and that of the faithful few who resemble you. Yoiu: M. B ■ is, in short, intolerable — he is always in the right. " These few words enlightened all at once the learned man ; and Saint Lambert took the opportunity to caution him against weaiy- ing his hearqfs by constantly and methodically dwelling upon facts, without advancing disputable opinions. Accordingly the polished economist adopted a new system for the barter of thought, and by advancing paradoxes and singular propositions was restored to the favor of Mme. Geoffrin ; in fact he became one of the most enter- taining and delightful conversationists in that coterie from which he had been so harshly expelled. — Hervet. e. Finally, and Above All, Keep Cood-Na- tured. — However worsted in argument, a man is never thoroughly vanquished till he loses his temper. 78 DISCUSSION. [Part II. We wonder what is the source of the mixture of sympathy — not to say approbation —with which pepperiness, as distinguished from bad temper, is generally treated by the literary world. . . . We dislike bad temper, but admiringly encourage a fiery temper, if it be only a fiery temper, and unless it explodes at our own ex- pense we rather like the man who owns it the better. The chol- eric character in comedy is always a favorite, and we should very much like to know why. No doubt part of the reason is that people always feel kindly to a character which in very marked and conspicuous aspects, at least, is within their power, and like a musical instrument will give out certain tones under their manipulation. It does not increase the respect for a man, but it does the feeling of fellowship with him, that he is sure to respond in a certain way to a certain stimulus, and that you possess this means of applying that stimulus at will. Such a man is liked, partly as a natural phenomenon, on the dis- play of which under given circumstances you can always rely. Just as men like to show oif a fine echo in a particular spot, and will elipit it day after day to the admiration of their different guests, so they like to show off the flashes of temper with which a friend answers the application of the well-known irritant. The pleasure in it is almost like the professional pleasure with which a medical practitioner sees the blister rise when he has applied the plaster, or the chemist, when he has predicted the liquidation of a gas, dis- plays the result of the pressure he has applied. In short, these irascible tempers verify their friends' predictions and also illus- trate their power of playing upon character. — Foreign Magazine. How unmanly it is thus to be played upon is welUllustrated in Hamlet's rebuke of Guildenstern. Ham. — Will you play upon this pipe ? Ouil. — My lord, I cannot. Ifam. — I pray you. 6uil, — Believe me, I cannot. Sam. — I do beseech yon. Guil. — I know no touch of it, my lord. * Bam. — 'Ti.s afi easy as lying : govern these ventages with your fingers and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops. ewW.— But these cannot I command to any utterance ot harmony ; I have not the skill. Sam.— Why, look you, now, how unworthy a thing you make o£ me. You would play 6hap. v.] DANaER OF FIERY WOEDS. V9 upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mys- tery ; you would sound me fi'om my lowest note to the top of my compass ; and there is much music, excellent voice in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. S' blood, do you think that I am easier to be played en than a pipe ? But temper uncontrolled is more than weakness. Fiery words are the hot blast that inflames the fuel of our pas- sionate nature, and formulated doctrine a hedge that confines the discursive wandering of the thoughts. In a personal altercation it is most often the stimulus men give themselves by stinging words that impels them to violent acts, and in argumentative discussion we find the most convincing support to our conclusions in the in- ternal echo of the dogmas we have ourselves pronounced. Hence, extreme circumspection in the use of vituperative language, and in the adoption of phrases implying particular opinions, is not less a prudential than a moral duty ; and it is equally important that we strengthan in ourselves kindly sympathies, generous impulses, noble aims, and lofty aspiration, by habitual freedom in their ex- pression ; and that we confirm ourselves in the great political, so- cial, moral, and religious truths, to which calm investigation has led us, as final conclusions, by embodying them in forms of sound words. — Mabsh. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Advantages and dangers, p. 63. Contradiction not argument, pp. 62-67. Difficulty of proving our beliefs, p. 64. Strife for truth, not victory, p. 67. SPECIAL SUGGESTIONS. a. Be always ready to listen, p. 69. b. Concede all that is unessential, p. 69. Legal cross-examination, pp. 70, 71. c. Stop when no approach is making to truth, p. 73. 1. Never compel discussion, p. 73. 2. Avoid discussion with those unfitted, p. 73. 80 TOPICAL ANALYSIS. [PabtII. 3. Avoid discussion too weighty for the occasion, p. 74. 4. Do not introduce a known hobby, p. 75. d. Yield gracefully when convinced, p. 76. Wrong to be always right, p. 76. ■ e. Keep good-natured, pp. 77^79. SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS. Is the cobbler's rule (page 267) a correct one ? Do you agree with the Foreign Magazine (page 78) that a fiery temper obtains sympathy, and are the reasons given for this sufiioient ? What portion of the chapter do the following lines illustrate ? The Centipede was happy quite. Until the Toad, in fun, Said, ' ' Pray which leg goes after which ? " That worked her mind to such a pitch, She lay distracted in the ditch. Considering how to run. CHAPTEE VI. STORY-TELLING. It has often been my lot, in preaching to a rustic congregation, to be told by my hearers, by unmistakable outward signs which every preacher ought to be quick to recog- nize, that I have been running too long in one groove. On such occasions I generally use at the end of my period the cabalistic formula, Now I am going to tell you a Htory. It is like the adjutant's cry of " 'ttention ! " to the regiment standing at ease ; it is the unfailing " Open sesame " to blinking eyes ; it acts as the sound of Blucher's guns at Waterloo, and gives the victory at once to virtue and wakefulness in those struggling hearers whose whole reserve of vital power has been engaged by nature in the huge ef- fort of digesting their one weekly dinner worthy of the name. — Blackley. As Illustration in Argument. — The mind may reach a given truth either by studying cause and effect, or , by perceiving an analogy. The first method requires trained faculties, and demands close attention. The latter is natural to every iuman being, and demands only com- parison. Hence illustration is a main resource in argu- ment. He who has at hand an apt story will carry con- viction where logic would fail. Of course, a story carries weight in argument only so far as it accords with general experience. A country deacon, riding to church with his daughter, saw two strange boys making for the brook with fishing-poles. "My boys," the deacon said solemnly, "I knew two boys who went fishing on Sunday, and one of them was drowned." " Pooh, that's nothing,'' was the indiflfei-ent reply ; "I knew an old man who went to ride ^ith a yoiong woman on Sunday, and they were both struck by lightning." Ariecdotes Only Adjuncts of Conversation. — In generaTsociety stories are tpld less frequently to con- vince an opponent than to promote hilarity. "WieB-«ib- S^ STOEY-TELLING. [Part it jects of general interest seem to have been exhausted they are sometimes a substitute for conversation ; but usually tlie'y should be only adjuncts, suggested by something al- ready said, and serving to illustrate it. The professional story-teller, especially the man with some two or three stock stories, is commonly as dreaded as he is despised. Doddington falling asleep one day in the company of Sir Eich- ard Temple, Lord Cobham, and others, one of the party reproached him for his drowsiness. He replied that he had lost nothing, for he could repeat all that Lord Oobham had been saying ; and when challenged to do so, he repeated a story which Lord Oobham could but confess he had just told, and told no better. "And yet," said Doddington, "I did not hear one word of it ; I went to sleep be- cause I knew you always told this story at about this time." On an occasion when Colonel Barie brought forward a motion on the British navy, Lord North said to a friend of his sitting next him : ' ' Now Barre will give us our naval history from the begin- ning, not forgetting Sir Francis Drake and the Ai'mada. All that is nothing to me, so let me sleep on, and wake me when we come near our own times." His friend at length aroused him, when Lord North exclaimed : " Where are we ? " " At the battle of LaHogue, my Lord." " O, my dear friend," said North, "you have waked me a century too soon. " Especially contemptible is he who watches for opportu- nity so to turn the subject as to introduce his anecdote, and who thinks nothing of breaking into a conversation inter- esting and profitable, provided he thereby get an opening for his pet story. An old gentleman whose favorite anecdote was about a gun, and who found it difficult to establish any natural connection between it and whatever happened to be the topic of conversation, used to stamp loudly upon the floor and exclaim : "Bless me, what's that ? a gun ? By the way, talking of guns, ..." And then he told his story. Men so obtuse are apt to miss the point of the stories they tell. Chap. VI.] ANECDOTES A MEANS, NOT AN END. 83 A man at dinner wliere a servant dropped a dish of tongue ob- serving that a great laugh was created when the host remarked, "Merely a lapsiis linguce," straightway prepared a dinner, invited his guests, and instructed his servant to let fall the roast mutton. The servant did so, and as the guests turned the host exclaimed, " Only a lapsus linguce, ha ! ha ! h — ; " and then he paused, won- dering why nobody else laughed. From such temptations lie will be relieved who consults not his own glorification but the happiness of the com- pany. He will be prompted only to such stories as nat- ui-ally suggest themselves, and as are fitted to promote the discussion or the pleasant feeling of the moment. Adaptation to the Time and the Company. — He will be especially wary of giving offence. However humorous and apt may be the story, he will withhold it if it seem likely to wound the feelings or to shock the sensi- tiveness of anyone jjresent. Not only will he scrupulously avoid any approach to irreverence or indelicacy (see page 29), but he will bear in mind the peculiar history and prejudices of those present (See page 18). Stories Should Not be Allowed to Weary. — Stories are usually pungent in proportion as they are con- densed. Sir William Temple says that there used to be at the inns of Scotland tale-tellers, whose business it was to lull restless travellers to sleep with stories of giants and dwarfs. One should have enough oratorical power to perceive whether, he is retaining the sympathy of his audience. If their attention is roused by his beginning, and if he perceives no signs that the story is an old one to his hearers, lie may elaborate and dwell upon details till he has made the scene as vivid as life, and holds his listeners trembling with eagerness for the climax. 84 STORY-TELLING. [Part 11. It is not because stories are long that they weary. John B. Gough will spend ten minutes upon an anecdote which the morn- ing newspaper told in five lines. Once sure that it is appropriate, and that the point will penetrate, he will give his imagination rein and surround the incident with a wealth of details. But he will be sure that every one of these details shall deepen the interest of the audience and heighten the climax. When one's story is coldly received, or when the interest first wakened begins to wane, one should hasten to con- . elude it, and if it falls flat should neither repeat nor ex- plain. If interrupted in the midst of the narration by some accident or rudeness, one should not return to one's story unless invited to do so. We must never forget that a story should be told, not for our sake, but for tJiat of the company, and that the company is the best judge whether it wants to listen. Stories Should be Artistically Told. — Most failures in storj'-telling result from lack of preparation. One forgets or altogether misses the point. lie remembers that he laughed over something hfe o'nce heard told, and he tries to repeat it without a clear notion of where the laugh came in. Perhaps the fun lay in the circumstances under which the story was told, which cannot be reproduced ; or in the 'peculiar manner of the speaker, which cannot be imitated ; or in the hilariousness of the moment, which is now wanting. But oftenest the fault is in failure to recover the art with which the story was told — the quiet introduction, the unobtrusive but skilful arrangement of details, every- thing being omitted that did not bear on the conclusion, and every incident so introduced as to accumulate interest till the climax was sprung upon the hearers just as their attention was stretched to the utmost. Chap. VI.] ARTISTIC STORY- TELLING. 85 An artistic bit of story-telling is Sydney Smith's reference to Mrs. Partington in a speech on the "Beform Bill,'' delivered at Taunton : " I do not mean to be disrespectful, but the attempt of the lords to stop the progress of reform reminds me very forcibly of the great storm of Sidmouth, and of the conduct of the excellent Mrs. Partington on that occasion. In the winter of 1824 there set in a great flood upon that town — the tide rose to an incredible height, the waves rushed in upon the houses, and everything was threat- ened with destruction. In the midst of this sublime and terrible storm Dame Partington, who lived upon the beach, was seen at the door of her house with mop and pattens, trundling her mop, squeezing out the sea-watei', and vigorously pushing away the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was roused. Mrs. Partington's spirit was up ; but I need not tell jon that the contest was un- equal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was ex- cellent at a slop or a puddle, but she should not have meddled with a tempest. Gentlemen, be at your ease, be quiet and steady. You will beat Mrs. Partington.'' Contrast with this the following : Mark Twain, writingupon Franklin, says : "He was twins, having been born simul- taneously in two houses in Boston." There is an unconscious organic assumption that both houses, since people insii^t upon both, must have been the spots of his birth. If so the births in the two houses must have been simultaneous, but the two' Franklins not identical. Of course, then, they must have been twins. . But I am reminded of a famous wit who, after viewing the Siamese twins for awhile, quietly remarked, " Broth- ers, I suppose." — Weiss^s H7i, Humor, and Sfiakspere. Mark that in th^ first half of this paragraph Mr. Weiss, by en- deavoring to explain the humor, lets it entirely escape. It is the precise point of the joke that the two Franklins are identical, and that Tie (not they) was tmns. And in the second half the stoiy is spoiled by making a wit say that the Siamese twins were probably brothers. That particular kind of remark is funny only when it is a blunder — a bull, as it is usually called. The zest of the incon- gruity is lost when the speaker himself perceives it and bases his remark upon it. How much funnier is the story of the learned professor who made the Siamese twins the occasion of a lecture to his students upon the beneficence of Providence. ' ' Here they are, " he said, "attached indissolubly to each other, obliged to share 86 STORY- TELLING. [Pakt n. each with the other every joy, every sorrow, every act of life. How kind the dispensation, then, that makes them brothers. Suppose they had been born strangers to each other, how intolerable would such an intimacy have become." Accuracy in Details. — "Whether the story be of what we have seen or of what we have heard, much of its effect depends upon the accuracy with which it is told. Nothing can be ruder or more indicative of a small mind than to interrupt a story-'eller with a correction of some misstatement that has no bearing upon the point at issue ; yet the fact that such in- terruptions are common shows how instinctively the mind watches for these errors. Consequently the habit should be formed of omitting what one is not sure of. If you know an anecdote is Tom Hood's it may make it more interesting to say so ; but if you are not sure, yet say so, perhaps half your hearers will remember that it is Charles Lamb's, and will be more intent on assuring themselves that you have made a mistake than upon 'observing the pertinence of the story. On the other hand, if you begin : " That reminds me of a story of Tom Hood's — or, it may be, of Charles Lamb's, or possibly of Douglas Jerrold's — though I don't think it sounds much like him, because he was always so biting — suckled on a lemon, somebody said — but then ohe forgets which man said these things, and after all it doesn't matter much ; at any rate it is very good, and I think it was Tom Hood's," etc., not Mrs. Nickleby herself could more effectually make herself weari- some. Moreover, these details are often the charm of the story. Few are so accustomed to analyze their impressions as to he sure just which are the elements of incongruity that make a situation amusing ; but those who observe mi- nutely and recall frequently the peculiarities of the occa- sion will impart a vividness to the narrative not otherwise attainable. J'ew stories are well told the first time, because it is only Chap. VI.] ACCTJRACY AND SIMPLICITY. 87 after an unsatisfactory telling that one begins to realize that like any other work of art a story deserves delicate workmanship. Effectiveness is often sought by means of exaggeration, but this is easily detected. The ai'tist ad- heres precisely to the facts, but shows his skill in omit- ting none that are essential to the effect, and in admitting no others. Mimicry is usually to be shunned. It is seldom agreeable ex- cept wlien instinctive — when the imagination recalls the scene so vividly that the speaker unconsciously adopts what is distinctive iu the manner of the person represented. Much of what is meant for mimicry is simply buffoonery, unworthy of the monkey that accom- panies a hand-organ. Simplicity of Narration. — Much of the effect of story-telling depends upon the simplicity of it. There should be no such preamble as, " Well, the best thing I ever heard was ," or, " If you want to laugh just listen to this ." The less expectation is raised at the begin- ning the readier will be the appreciation at the end. Even when introducing another's story we should beware of embarrassing him by promising too much for him. In like manner one should avoid preliminary chuckling. While it would be crnel, as Charles Lamb says, to deprive the story-teller of any participation in the merriment he excites, he should be sure the merriment has been excited before he participates in it, or he may find that his laugh is a solo. If, however, he has told his stOry well, and held the interest of his audience, when the climax comes he may sometimes lead the laugh that follows, though often the effect is heightened if he can maintain an unmoved gravity. There is a look by which a man shows when he is going to say a good thing, and a look when he has said it. — Emerson. 88 STORY-TELLIIirG. [Part II. The difficulty is that such looks, by showing that the speaker has pronounced judgment on his remark, deprive us of the privilege of passing judgment, our rightful prerogative as listeners. This we are apt to resent, and to withhold or give reluctantly the applause really deserved by the remark itself. Cautions. — No dishonest artifices should be employed^ like inserting new names into old stories and passing them off as personal experience. If the anecdote be an old one say so, but do not submit to the humiliation of pretending yourself to have seen what you have only heard or read:- about. Above all things never retell a story just offered, no matter how much better you can do it ; nor let it be seen by your manner that you have heard it before, however familiar. Kor should one strive to eclipse a story just told by another of like import, but should supplement it only when one has at hand another that will heighten the effect of that just told. -. How far one may be personal and touch on private mat- ters in public is a question of great delicacy, and must be left to individual judgment. When happily done^ it pro- duces the very highest effect. With an illustration, we leave the reader to draw his own inferences. I was at a Lotus Club dinner recently and a pretty well-known journalist, being called on for " a speech I a speech ! " after the upi-oarious habit of that intellectual circus, rose and told a story. " It might be called,^' said he, with a sly look at the head of the table, where sat in presidential majesty a rather corpulent, slightly bald, middle-aged man , '• it might be called 'How I got into a magazine.' " Then he changed to the other foot, blushed slightly, leaned on his fork, and said : •' I had au article once whi(;h I thought would make six pages in a magazine — if it got a chance, I concluded to give the Atlantic Monthly the benefit of it, because that was a superb creation of the humjin intellect and ought to be encouraged. [Smiles and raps on the table.] I sent it to that periodical, saying that it was my maiden effort, and asking the editor to send me the $100 by draft or money order. In three weeks it came back, to my utter amazement, with the printed notice that it was excellent, but not adapted, etc. I saw that the editor of the Atlantic was a fool. [Cheers around the table and cries of satirical approval.] I sent it to another well-known magazine, offering it for $50. It came back in two months, just when I was looking for it to appear. That Chap. VI.J TWO AFTER-DINNER SPEECHES. 89 magazine, too, was evidently a failure I I then sent it (price $15) to a first-class weekly, thac printed just such things as my sketch, ' Mary Wanley's Guide,' but not half as well written, [Cheers and encouraging remarks.] Again it was sent back. [Laughter.] I could not understand it. I could not believe that our periodical literature was decaying so fast. I offered it to another journalist for nothing, telling him that I was a beginner, thac this was the first effort of the sort I had ever offered to anybody, and I watched his face as he examined it auspiciously, and finally returned it to me, saying that the style was faulty ; the idea was good, though it might have been used heretofore ; but with study and careful practice I would make, perhaps, in time, etc. [Laughter.] '*I was mad, gentlemen I" said the speaker amid the roars of the company, and leaning on the chair with his other hand, he went on; ''Something heroic must be done ! Two years had passed. It was now 1871. I resolved to storm the citadel. I borrowed my brother's seal-skin overcoat, so as to look as imposing as possible, and struck for an illustrated magazine I had not tried ; one of the finest works of art in the world, The doorkeeper stood briskly aside as I went in and asked for the editor, whose name I did not then know. I was speedily ushered into the presence of a young man who asked me to be seated, and inquired my business. ' To see the editor.' He would examine my manuscript. 'Very well,' I said, still standing. 'I must have an answer in fifteen minutes, as I leave on the next train for Boston.' He parleyed, but I was severe and taciturn, and reached for the manuscript which, he had taken. *I will see Mr. ,' said he, naming the editor himself. The latter appeared. ' We will send this to you by mail,' said he, ' if it is not used.' ' I can leave it with you only fifteen minutes,' I repliL-d. He looked surprised and glanced at the title. ' You can surely leave it one night,' he expostulated. 'No,' I rejoined resolutely, ' I have other uses for it.' In that I suppose he scented the opposition house, for he took oflf his overcoat (he was just going home) and said : 'I will look it over now.' [Cheers around the table.] ** He was a fine-looking man as he sat there in the dying twilight — [Cries of 'Oh!* ' Ah I '] —a rather corpulent, slightly-bald, middle-aged man (at this the company turned toward the presiding officer, who was as red ae a boiled lobster, and then they roared with glee), and he looked up in about ten minntes. and said : ' I will take this ; Mr. Oliver, please make out a check for $5U.' ' What ? * I asked, ' $50 ? my price is $125.' 'Ah I ' said he, passing the manuscript to me, 'it is more than we ever pay anybody, except famous writers.' I delivered a stately bow, took the roll of paper, and turned out of the door. ' Well ! ' said he, calling to me, ' we'll take it at $125 ; ' and Mr. Oliver made out my check. [Cheers and roars of laughter. The man at the head of the table had turned a sort of indigo blue.] " The worst of it is, or the best of it," said the narrator, " that I have not seen or heard of that sketch during all these ceven years 1 " The Lotus Club hall rang with cheers and laughter, for his manner of telling the story was indescribably droll, and then all parties turned toward the presiding officer, who was recognized as the hero of the nairative. He rose slowly to his feet ; the blue went out of bis face, and even the scarlet turned to the rosy flush which is habitual to it^ and he smiled cheerfully by the time the cheers and guffaws which greeted him had died away. ■' The fact is," he began deprecatingly, and then there was another great roar of laughter. " Yes ; I well remember the circumstances. I accepted the sketch to keep its writer from inflicting it on some weaker magazine. [Loud laughter.] Our house is rich. I can afford to stand in the breach. If it were not for the work we do in bury- ing articles capable of injury, the mortality among magazines would be incalculable. [Laughter and cheers.] Yes, gentlemen, when u person with a flighty temperament 90 STORY-TELLING. [Part II. comes in [laughter] we exert every nerve to get poBseK?ion of his manuscript to prevent the desolation that might otherwise ensue. [Cheers and jingling of glasses.] Such an article might fall into the hands of men who would inadvertently print it. [Cheers and cries of ' Hear ! hear I '] We lock it up in a strong safe." The company, led by the journalist, who blushed again at his awkward position, then drank to the sagacious magazine, while the editor went on seriously to say that he had eight immense fire-proof safes full of stories and other manuscripts that had been bought and paid for, some of the matter extending back many years. " If nobody should write a word for the body of our magazine for the next ten years," he said, '' it would appear regularly every month, and I dot^t if its quality would be at all impaired." — I/. Y. Letter to the Inter- Ocean. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Use of stories in argument, p. 81 . In conversation should be only adjuncts, p. SI. Should be adapted to place and company, p. 83. Should not be allowed to weary, p. S3. Should be artistically told, pp. 84-86 . Accurate in details, p. 8t). Told simply, p. 87. CAUTIONS. Do not touch up an old story as new, p. 88. Never retell a story just told, p. 88. Personal and private allusions, pp. 88-90. SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS. Are the rules for newspaper writing (pages 193 to 193) applicable to story-telling ? What improvement can you suggest in the manner of telling any of the stories in this or the preceding chapter V Which of the following stories is the best told ? What improvement can you sug- gest in any of them ? What changes would you make in telling instead of reading them ? PEKSBVBHANCE. King Robert Bruce, the restorer of the Scottish monarchy, while re- connoitering the army, lay down in a barn, In the morning, still reclin- ing on his couch of straw, he saw a spider climbing up one of the rafters. The insect fell, but immediately made a second attempt to ascend ; and with regret the hero saw the spider fall a second time. It made a third unsuccessful attempt, and with much interest and concern the monarch saw the spider baffled in its aim twelve times. But the thirteenth at- tempt was successful, and the king, starting up, exclaimed, "This in- significant spider has taught me patience, and I will follow its example. Have I not been twelve times defeated by the enemy's superior force ? On one more fight hangs the independence of my country." In a few Chap. VI.] TOPICAL ANALYSIS. ^ 91 days his anticipations were realized by his glorious victory at the battle of Bannookburn. A bot's ambition. A few days ago Justice of the Peace John Weber took his little son down to Toledo on an excursion. The lad interviewed the man at the wheel and gathered muolT information relative to the business of steam- boating. Presently his father joined him on the hurricane deck and asked him how he was enjoying himself. "First-rate," was the enthu- siastic reply, "I'm goin' to be a steamboat man, papa." " All right," re- sponded the " judge," " but you'll have to study navigation, astronomy, and divers other sciences, in order to become a good one. " The lad said nothing at the time, but appeared to be revolving the difficulties of the case in his mind. Perhaps half an hour later, he remarked with much gravity, "Papa, I guess 1 won't be a steamboat man. I'd rather be a justice of the peace ; you don't have to know anything for that." — De- troit Free Press. Professob (to student) — "You wish me to give you a recommenda- tion ? I don't remember ever having seen you at any of my lectures." Student — " Ah, professor, you evidently confound me with another man who looks very much like me, and who, it is true, has never attended your lectures. " Professor — "Yes, yes, very likely." (Gives him the recommendation. ) PEDANTIC CRITICISM. "And how did Garrick speak the soliloquy, last night?" "Oh! against all rule, my lord ; most ungrammatically ! betwixt the substan- tive and the adjective, which should agree together in number, case, and gender, he ma4e a breach thus — stopping as if the point wanted settling ; and betwixt the nominative case, which your lordship knows should govern the verb, he suspended his voice in the epilogue a dozen times, three seconds and three-fifths, by a stop-watch, my lord, each time." " Admirable grammarian ! but in suspending his voice, was the sense suspended likewise '! did no expression of attitude or countenance fill up the chasm '! was the eye silent ? did you narrowly look '!" "I looked only at the stop-watch, my lord." "Excellent observer"! — Sterne. oyebkeached. A wealthy man died suddenly without leaving any will. The widow, desirous of securing the whole of the property, concealed her husband's death, and persuaded a poor shoemaker to take his place. Accordingly he was closely muffled in bed, as if he was very sick, and a lawyer was caBed in to write the will. The shoemaker in a feeble voice bequeathed half of the property to the widow. " What shall be done with the re- mainder," asked the lawyer. "The remainder," replied he, " I give and bequeath to the poor little shoemaker across the street, who has been a good neighbor and a, deserving man, " CHAPTER VII. AS TO BEING FUNNY. The music that can deepest reach, And cure all il], is cordial speech ; Mark.tliy wisdom with delight, Toy with the bow, yet hit the white. Of all wit's uses, the main one Is to live well with who has none. - Embhson. Need of Relaxation. — Reproached for frolicking with his children, ^sop pointed to an unbent bow, and asked how long it would be an effective weapon if kept con- stantly strung. Disraeli tells of the Jesuits that thej had a standing rule that after two hours' study the mind should take some relaxation, however ti'iiling. Petavius used to twirl his chair for five minutes, Richelieu jumped with his servant to try which could reach the higher point on the wall, and Samuel Clarke used to leap over chairs and tables. A young prelate was sent witli a message to the stern Cardinal Mazarin. By a bltmder of a servant he was admitted to the august presence unannounced, and to his consternation he surprised the great man amusing himself'by jumping over articles of furniture. For a moment the embarrassment was mutual, but the young courtier soon recovered himself. " I will bet your eminence two gold pieces that I can beat that jump," he exclaimed, pulling off his shoes as if eager for the sport. The Cardinal accepted the challenge, and the two contested like school-boys. The young man lost his wager, but won the lasting favor of the haughtiest dignitary in Europe. * But the relaxation most universal among men is the eonteiriplation of the ludicrous, Chap. VII.] THEORIES OP THE LtTDICROUS. 93 There is no more interesting spectacle than to see the effects of wit upon the different characters of men ; than to ' observe it ex- panding caution, relaxing dignity, unfreezing coldness, teaching age, and care, and pain to smile, extorting reMctant gleams of pleasure from melancholy, and charming even the pangs of grief. It is pleasant to observe how it penetrates through the coldness and awkwardness of society, gradually bringing men nearer to- gether, and like the combined force of wine and oil, giving every man a glad heart and a shining countenance. Genuine and inno- cent wit like this is surely the flavor of the mind. Man could direct his ways by plain reason, and support his life by tasteless food ; but God has given us wit, and flavor, and brightness, and laughter, and perfumes, to enliven the days of man's pilgrimage, and to charm his pained steps over the bmning marl. — Sydney Smuh. THEORIES OF THE LUDICROUS. Hobbes. — The lowest, narrowest view of the laughable is presented by Plobbes, and is characteristic of all his phi- losophy. He says : Laughter is a sudden glory arising from a sudden conception of some eminency in ourselves by comparison with the inferiority of others or our own former infirmity. The insufKcieney of this explanation is well pointed out by Campbell, who remarks : If you make but a trifling alteration of the expression, so as to destroy the wit (which often turns on a very little circumstance), without altering the real import of the sentence (a thing not only possible but easy), you will produce the same opinion and the same contempt, and consequently will give the same subject of triumph, yet without the least tendency to laugh. Haven. — Even Dr. Haven, who points out that it can- not be simply the conception of inferiority in others which causes laughter, since if it were so the proud, self -conceited, and supercilious would abound in that genuine and hearty M THEORIES OP THE LtlDICEOUS. [Part II. merriment which in fact they never experience, himself accepts wliat Hobbes considers the essence of the ludicrons as at least an invariable accompaniment. Thus : The person laughing is always, for the time being, superior, in his own estimation, at least, to the person or thing laughed at. It is some awkwardness, some blunder, some defect of body, mind, or manner, some lack of sharpness or of sense, some perceived in- congruity between the true character or position of the individual and his present circumstances, that excites our laughter and con- stitutes the ludicrous. Hazlitt goes further: The ludicrous is when there is a contradiction between the ob- ject and our expectations, heightened by some deformity or incon- venience, that is, by being contrary to what is customary or de- sirable ; as the ridiculous, which is the highest degree of the laughable, is that which is contrary not only to custom, but to sense and reason. Bain quotes from Quintilian : A saying that causes laughter is generally based on false reason- ing, has always something low in it, is often purposely sunk into buffoonery, is never honorable to the subject of it. Sir Philip Sidney argnes that laughter is not wholly agreeable : Delight we scarcely do but in things that have a oonveniency to ourselves or to the general nature. Laughter almost ever cometh of things most disproportioned to ourselves and natui-e. Delight hath a joy in it, either permanent or present ; laughter hath only a scornful tickling. Laughter Not Necessarily Scornful. — This last phrase at once embodies and refutes this class of theories. We know that our merriest laughter is not scornful, and that any theory that so represents it must be erroneous. CiiAP. Vll.] LAUGHTER NOT SCORNFCJL. 95 For instance, good Deacon Robinson, heading a proces- sion of Sunday-school scholars as they inarch through the aisles of a crowded church, strikes up, " Hold the Fort," forgetful that the second stanza will begin : " See the mighty hosts advaucing, Satan leading on." When that line is reached everybody smiles. But the smile is directed, not at the deacon, but at the incongruity ; and in proportion to the incongruity will be the feeling of amusement, so that the louder the laughter the more em- phatic will be the testimony that the deacon's life is ex- emplary. There is no sudden conception of inferiority in the deacon, as ITobbes would have it. The audience is not I'endered superior to him, even in its own estimation, as Haven would make us believe. The laughter is not the " scornful tickling " of Sir Pliilip Sidney, but a burst of merriment, in which the deacon himself is probably the heartiest to join. When the good brother, in a prayer- meeting, attempted, in the absence of the chorister, to start the hymn, *' I love to steal a while away," veral times, "I love to steal " " " I love to steal ," foimd it the tune, and broke down, it was very luuuu k.u xiio ijicdit if his fellow- worshippers were simply amused ; for there have been men from whom that unpremeditated avowal would produce an awkward silence. When a bereaved widower, answering a condoling friend who asks if the recent death was not sudden, replies doubtfully, " Well, yes, rather, for her ; " when a bashful wedding-guest wishes the bride many happy returns ; when a college professor, asked for leave of absence to attend the funeral of a second cousin, tells the student he supposes he shall have to let him go, but that he really 96 THEORIES OF THE LUDICROUS. [Part II. wishes it were a nearer relative ; when typographical errors give us a list of awards at the Paris Exposition, issued "by order of his Eoyal Highness, the Prince of Males ; " report that a cow upon the railway track was literally cut into calves, and transform a fa- miliar sentence in the Prayer-Book from " We shall all be changed in the twinkling of an eye" into "We shall all be hanged in the twinkling of an eye," — in all these and thousands of similar instances there is in our laughter no ingredient of contempt. We simply perceive an incongruity that provokes our merriment, and that merriment is thoroughly good-natured. Those who see in such in- stances a disparagement of the individual, fail to distinguish be- tween the absurd in conception and the absurd in reality. Does the pupil who in the expression, "Mrs. Caudle's husband," parses Mrs. Caudle's " as a proper fejninine noun, third, singular, possessive, and governed by husband,'' suppose that Mrs. Caudle herself was governed by her husband ? Not if he has been taught to distinguish between a grammatical relation of two words and a real relation of the two objects that the words represent. No more should he fail to see that it is one thing to laugh at the absurdity of associating a ridiculous idea with an individual and quite another to laugh at the individual as himself ridiculous. The keenest thrusts are those of the tongue. The bitterest enmity may wrealc itself in a jest. But sarcasm, irony, contempt, are not essential to the ludicrous. The truly funny is impersonal. " To resolve laughter into an expression of contempt," says Coleridge, " is con- trary to fact, and laughable enough." A later writer tells us : That a gratified sense" of superiority is at the root of barbarous laughter may be at least half the truth. But there is a loving laughter in which the only recognized superiority is that of the ideal self, the God within, holding the mirror and the scourge for our own pettiness, as well as our neighbor's. "We may go further than this. Much that is ludicrous is sheer nonsense. De Quincey tells us how Charles Lamb Chap. VII.] HBEBERT SPENCER'S THEORY. 97 used to visit him, and join with him in laughter over the silliest conceits. Leigh Hunt says : " The difference between nonsense not worth talking and nonsense worth it is simply this : the former is a re- sult of want of ideas ; the latter of a superabundance of them." He adds that nonsense, in the good sense of the word, is a very sensible thing in its season, and is confounded with the other only by people of a shallow gravity who cannot afford to joke. " These gentlemen, he says, .live upon credit, and would not have it in- quired into. They are grave, not because they see or feel the con- trast of mirth, for then they would feel the jnirth itself; but be- cause gravity is their safest mode of behavior. They must keep their minds sitting still, because they are incapable of a motion that is not awkward. They are waxen images among the living, the de- ception is undone if they stir ; or hollow vessels covered up, which may be taken for full ones ; the collision of wit jars against them, and strikes out against their hollowness.'' Nonsense talked by men of wit and understanding in the hour of relaxation is of the very finest essence of conviviality, and a treat delicious to those who have the sense to comprehend it ; but it implies a trust in the company not always to be risked. — Dis- raeli. Herbert Spencer. — A wholly different account of laughter is given by Mr. Spencer. He starts with the as- sumption that a given amount of feeling must somewhere generate an equivalent manifestation of force, and that if of the channels the force would naturally take, one or more are closed, more must be taken by the other chan- nels. He goes on to show that the muscular action of laughter has this peculiarity, that it is purposeless. The contractions of the muscles are quasi-convulsive, and result simply from an uncontrollable discharge of energy that takes the most familiar paths, first through the organs of speech, producing a smile ; and, if that proves insuffi- 98 THEORIES OF THE LUDICKOUS. [I»akt II. cieiit, through the organs of respiration, producing laugh- ter. NoWj why is our nervous energy prompted to escape through these paths upon certain perceptions of incongruity ? " It is an insufadent explanation that in these cases laughter is a result from the pleasure we take in escaping from the restraint of grave feelings. That this is a part cause is trne. Doubtless very often, as Mr. Bain says, ' it is the coerced form of serious- ness without the reality that gives us that stifE position from which a contact with trivial- ity or vulgarity relieves us to our uproarious delight,' And in so far as mirth, is caused by the gnsh of agreeable feeling that follows the cessation of mental strain it further il- lustrates the general principle above set forth. " But no explanation is tlius afforded of the mirth which ensues when the shoi-t silence between the andante and allegro of one of Beethoven's symphonies is broken by a loud sneeze. In this and hosts of like cases the mental tension is not coerced, but spontaneous — not disagreeable, but agreeable ; and the coming impressions to which the attention is directed promise a gratification which few if any desire to escape. Hence, when the-un- lucky sneeze occurs, it cannot be that the laughter of the audience is due simply to the release from an irksome attitude of mind ; some other cause must be sought. " This cause we shall arrive at by carrying our analysis a step farther. We have but to consider the quantity of feeling that exists under such circumstances and then to ask what are the conditions that determine its discharge, to at once reach a solution. " Take a case. You are sitting in a theatre absorbed in the progress of an interesting drama. Some climax has been reached which arouses your sympathies — say a reconcilia- tion between the hero and heroine after a''long and painful misunderstanding. The feel- ings excited by this scene ai'e not of a kind from which you seek relief, but are, on the contrary, a relief from the painful feelings with which you have witnessed the previous estrangement. Moreover, the sentiments these fictitious personages have for the moment inspired you with are not such as would lead you 1o rejoice in any indignity offered to them, but rather such as would make you resent the indignity. * ' And now, while you are contemplating the reconciliation with a pleasurable sympathy there appears from behind the scenes a tame kid, which, having stared at the audience, walks up to the lovers and sniffs at them. You cannot help joining in the roar which greets this contre'emps Inexplicable as is this irresistible burst on the hypothesis of a pleasure from relative increase of self-importance when witnessing the humiliation of others, it is readily explicable if we consider what in such a case must become of the feel- ing that existed at the time the incongruity arose. *' A large mass of emotion had been produced, or, to speak in physiological language, a large portion of the nervous system was in a state of tension. There was also great expectation with regard to the further evolution of the scene— a quantity of vague, nas- cent thought and emotion, into which the existing quantity of thought and emotion was about to pass. ''Had there been no interruption, the body of new ideas and feelings next excited would have sufficed to absorb the whole of the liberated nervous energy. But now this large amount of nervous energy, instend of being allowed to expend itself in producing an equivalent amount of the new thoughts and emotions, is suddenly checked in its flow. The channels along which the discharge was about to take place are suddenly closed. The new channel opened — that afforded by the appearance and proceedings of the kid — is a small one ; the ideas and feelings suggested are not numerous and massive enough to Chap. Vtl.] mADEQUACY OF MR. StElSTCER'S THEORY. 99 carry ofE the nervous energy to be expended. The excess must therefore discharge itself in some other directions ; and in the way already explained there results an efflux through motor nerves to variotls classes of muscles, producing the half -convulsive motions wc call laughter," Mr. Darwin quotes this explanation, and thus corrobor- ates it : " An observation bearing on this point was made by a correspondent during the recent siege of Paris, namely, that the German soldiers, after strong excitement from exposure to extreme danger, were particularly apt to burst into loud laughter at the smallest joke. So again when young children are just beginning to cry an unexpected event will some- times suddenly turn their crying into laughter, which apparently serves equally well to expend their surplus energy." The difficulty witli Mr. Spencer's theory is that it accounts for everything except just what it purports to ex- plain. What we call laughter is not the half-convulsive motions. These are but the expression of laughter. To draw out the muscles of the face into a forced smile is tire- some, and becomes painful if continued. Still more tiresome and painful is the muscular motion of a hearty laugh. Says Mr. Darwin : During excessive laughter the whole body is thrown backward and shakes, or is almost convulsed ; the respiration is much dis- turbed, the head and face become gorged with blood with the veins distended, and the orbicular muscles are spasmodically con- tracted in order to protect the eyes. Hence, as formerly remarked, it is scarcely possible to point out any difference between the tear- stained face of a person after a paroxysm of excessive laughter and after a crying fit. It is probably due to the close similarity, . of the spasmodic movements caused by these widely different emotions that hysteric persons alternately laugh and cry with violence, and that young children pass suddenly from one to the other state. Another scientist says : No doubt the sound of laughter is one of the very earliest and oddest of human cries. It is certainly an astonishing sound, and one that is very difficult to listen to and analyze without prejudice, and a remote feeling of sympathy. The best way to study it that I know is to seize on opportunities when one is being constantly in- 100 THEORIES OE THE LUDICROUS. [Part 11. temapted in reading a serious book by shouts of laughter from a party of strangers ; one can then note the curious variety of spas- modic sounds produced, and marvel that men in the midst of ra- tional conversation should be compelled by necessity to break off suddenly their use of language and find relief and enjoyment in the utterance of perfectly inarticulate and animal howls like those of the Long-armed Gibbon. We all know what it is to laugh till we ache ; till we are compelled to beg our companion to desist from his funny stories, and forcibly to wrest our mind from a con- templation it too keenly enjoys, lest we laugh ourselves to death. The phrase is not extravagant. People do laugh themselves to death. On December 13, 1878, Joshua Walker, a respectable col- ored man living in the city of Providence, undertook to make some brine for pickling pork, and went to the cupboard for salt. He mistook the article, and his wife Eosa, twenty years old and re- cently happily married, found him salting the pork with granu- lated sugar. She burst into a hearty laugh ; she laughed, and laughed, and kept on laughing. Her husband became alarmed and ran for assistance, but in vain. The woman literally laughed herself to death. Such instances are not frequent, but a year's file of any New York daily will report at least one or two. Many ppople are in greater danger of laughing themselves to death than of being struck by lightning. If Mr. Spencer's theory of laughter Avere adequate, therefoi'e, laughter would be a painful experience, to be avoided, like a severe cold or the fever and ague. But, as we have seen, he describes everything but the laughter. He tells us what are the motions that accompany laughter, and why we laugh with certain muscles, instead of swing- ing our arms or turning- a somersault. But in what the amusement of laughter consists, and why we so enjoy it that in this amusement we forget the discomfort of the accompanying motions, he wholly ignores. Chap. VII.] A THEORY "AS GOOD AS CAN BE." 101 Aristotle. — From these aud many other tlitories we go back to the definition made by Ai-istotle, which Coler- idge declares " as good as can be." A definition which twenty-two centmies cannot improve is worth attention. " The ludicrous arises" says Aristotle, '■'■from surprise at perceiving something out of its usual place when the unusualness is not accompanied hy a sense of danger." Such surprise is always pleasurable ; and it is observed that surprise accompanied by a sense of danger becomes tragic. Here, then, are the two elements of the ludicrous — the incongruous and the inconvenient. Between the two is a poise, and the balance differs with every mind. "What annoys one amuses another. Even to the same mind an- noyances may be repeated till they become amusing, and one rather hopes they will acciimulate in order to complete the joke. Sam Weller and Mark Tapley were too ab- sorbed in the incongruous to be disturbed by the incon- venient. A boy was cuffed, and slapped, and shaken, and pounded for snow-balling an irascible old farmer. The boy laughed. The farmer cuffed and slapped aud shook and pounded harder. The boy laughed louder. Finally the farmer became exhausted, and exclaimed : " Boy, what are you laughing at ? " "Why, at the joke on you : I ain't the boy ! " The same difference is observed in the effect on us of the expe- rience of others. For instance, a man in Fulton laid his finger on the table in front of a buzz-sftw to feel the motion of the air. In the rapid revolution of the saw he did not perceive how far the teeth extended, and his finger was instantly cut off. Even his pain was lost in astonishment, and the foreman approached to ask how it happened. "Why, I just laid my finger down so," he explained ; and whiz went the saw through a second finger. 102 THEORIES OF THE LUDICROUS. [Pakt II. Now, tha*! story will be funny or tragic according to the physical sympathy of the person who hears it. It appeared in the funny columns of the newspapers; but it was read by many who have a Donatello's shrinking from the sight or even the thought of physical suffering, in whom the recital of the story made the flesh creep. Nothing is more to he remembered in conversation than that the ludicrous is not cm absolute relation, hut depends entirely wpon the mind of the person ferceiving the incon- gruity. The merry jokes of the dissecting-room would cost many a man his dinner and many a woman her con- sciousness. Hence the would-be wit is often a terror to society. Where he sees only the incongruous he forces upon his hearers the vulgar, the disgusting, the terrible. Wit generally succeeds more from being happily addressed than from its native poignancy. A jest calculated to spread at a gaming table may be received with perfect indifference should it happen to drop into a mackerel-boat. — Goldsmith. Those who have seen the play of "Jane Shore" will remember what a huge joke it seemed to her keepers to hurl the poor frozen, starving creature upon her feet again, and drive her on into the pitiless storm. Well is it for any of us if we have never laughed at the misery of others because we lacked the sympathy to per- ceive it. A lady attired in profound crape entered a car and abandoned herself to melancholy. A woman behind her, with red nose, blue veil and green spectacles, leaned forward and inquired : " Lost somebody ? " A barely perceptible nod answered the question without inviting another, but the inquisition proceeded. "Father?" A shake. " Brother ? " A shake. "Husband?" A nod. Chap. VII.] THE RELATION OF THE LUDICEOTTS. 103 " Church member ? " A nod. " Life insured ? " A nod. " Then what are you moping aboijt ? He's all right, and so are you." Sacred Subjects are never to be trifled with. jSTor will the gentleman restrict this reserve to those subjects that are sacred to himself. To find matter for jesting in any sincere feeling, whether of religion or of affection or of principle, betokens a selfish heart and a shallow intel- lect. Mr. "Weiss, in his "Wit, Humor, and Sliakspere," frequently blunders here. The following paragraph has almost every literary fault : Perhaps the pnreRt instance of thoroughly French wit is to be credited to Mr. Emer- son. An amiable rustic once heard him lecture, but could make nothing of it. Turn- ing to a friend, he said: *'Darn it 1 I'd like to know what Emerson thinks about God. I bet I'll ask him." He did, when Mr. Emerson came down the aisle. " G-od," replied he, "is the x of algebra," — that is, the unknown quantity in every problem. Nothing could be more admirable. — P. 25. The sense of the humorous is as incompatible with tenderness and respect as with compassion. No man would laugh to see a little child fall ; and he would ba shocked to sec such an accident happen to an old woman, or to his father. It is a beautiful thing to observe the boundaries which nature has aflBxed to the ridicu- lous, and to notice how soon it is swallowed up by the more illus- trious feelings of our minds. Where is the heart so liard that could bear to see the awkward resources and contrivances of the poor turned into ridicule ? Who could laugh at the fractured, ruined body of a soldier ? Who is so wicked as to amuse himself with the infirmities of extreme old age ? or to find subject for hu- mor in the weakness of a perishing, dissolving body ? Who is there that does not feel himself disposed to overlook the little peculiari- ties of the tmly great and wise, and to throw a veil over that ridi- cule which they have redeemed by the magnitude of their talents and the splendor of their virtues ? Who ever thinks of turning into 104 WHY THE LUDICROUS GIVES PLEASURE. [Past IL ridicule our great and ardent hope of a world to come ? Whenever the man of humor meddles with these things he is astonished to find that in all the great feelings of their nature the mass of man- kind always think and act aright ; that they are ready enough to laugh, but that they are quite as ready to drive away with indig- nation and contempt the light fool who comes with the feather of wit to crumble the bulwarks of truth and to beat down the Tem- ples of God. — Sydney Smith. WHY THE LUDICROUS GIVES PLEASURE. The Theory of Pleasure.— Among the vexed questions of philosophy none is more interesting than the theory of pleasure. Plato insisted that pleasure was sim- ply a release from pain, and could exist only after the pain had caused annoyance. To say that tlie act which typifies his theory is scratching is to use a figure bold enough to be remembered, and a word which he himself frequently em- ployed. Opposed to this gloomy view of life is the theory pro- pounded by Aristotle, which finds its ablest modern expo- nent in Sir William Hamilton. "Pleasure," he says,." is the i-eflex of the spontaneous and unimpeded exertion of a power of whose energy we are conscious ; pain a reflex of the overstrained or repressed exertion of such a power." Elsewhere he says that " Pleasure is nothing but the con- comitant or reflex of the unenforced and unimpeded en- ergy of a faculty or habit, the degree of pleasure being always in proportion to the degree of such energy." Leibnitz says that systems of philosophy are equally right in what they assert and wrong in what they deny. The theories of Kant and of Hamilton, diverse as they seem, yet agree in this — that pleasure comes fi-om action. " Things won are done," says Cres- sida ; " joy lies in the doing." This is true even of the " pure pleasures " of Plato, which Ham- ilton ignores ; " those from beautiful colors, and from figures, and Chap. VII.J PERCEPTION OF THE LUDICROUS. 106 most of those from odors, and those from soiinds, and any objects whose absence is unfelt and painless, while their presence is sen- sible and productive of pleasure ; " " which," to quote from Phile- bus, "are eternally and intrinsically beautiful and attended with pleasures of their own to which those of scratching have no resem- blance." Though there be justice in Stuart MUl's remark that Hamilton's definition of pleasure throws no new light upon it, and in the claim of Mr. Dallas that in "pure pleasure" the main source of enjoyment is less in the consciousness of energy than in the " con- ceit of special agreement in fitness : " even if we accept Mr. Dal- las's theory of exceeding pleasure, " that as the joy of life waxes the consciousness of life wanes ; that as consciousness rises pleas- ure sets ; that we recognize the presence of our bliss only when the bliss begins to fade, and that the heaven of oiu' existence be- gins when the consciousness of it passes away," the pleasure still results from activities, and the only question is as to how far these activities are within the sphere of consciousness. Perception of the Ludicrous. — As the ludi- crous arises from suddenly perceiving an incongruity, it is manifest that the pleasure arises from gratification at the possession and the exercise of this perception. Not Uhwersal. — The possession of a humorous percep- tion is by no means universal, and its most remarkable property is, that it is inborn. " It requires a surgical op- eration to get a joke well into a Scotch undeisstanding," says Sydney Smith. " It is not in the power of every one to taste humor, however he may wish it," says Laiirence Sterne, " it is the gift of God." We are all familiar with the helpless look of one who lacks per- ception of the ludicrous, and who peers into our faces to see whether or not what was said last is a joke he ought to laugh at. Nothing annoys one more than to observe the utter want of perception of a joke in some minds. Miss Jackson called, the other day, and spoke of the oppressive heat of last week. "Heat, madam," I said, " it was so dreadful here that I found nothing 106 WHY THE LUDICROTTS GIVES PLEASURE. [Part IL left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones." " Take off your flesh' and sit in your bones, sir ? Oh, Mr. Smith, how could you do that?" "Nothing more easy, madam; come and see me next time." But she ordered her carriage, and eyidently thought it a very unorthodox proceeding. — Sidney Smith. A college professor, lecturing on the effect of the wind in "West- ern forests, remarked : "In travelling along the road I sometimes found the logs bound and twisted together to such an extent that a mule could not climb over them, so I went round." "John," said a gentleman to his new servant, "did you take that note to Mr. Jones ? " " Yes, sir ; but it didn't do him any good ! " " How do you know that ? " " Because he can't read." " Mr. Jones can't read ? Why, what do you mean, John ? " "Why, he's blind, blind as a bat. While I was in the room he asked me three times where was my hat, and there it was right on my head in plain sight all the time.'' The works of many standard authors abound in passages where through lack of this perception grave issue is taken with state- ments, the only point of which is their humor. Thus, in a noted rhetoric : But of all kinds the worst is that wherein the words, when construed, are capable of no meaning at all. Such an expression is the following : *' There were seven ladies, in the company, every one prettier than another," by which it is intended, I suppose, to in- dicate that they were all very pretty. One prettier implies that there is another less pretty, but where every one is prettier there can be none less, and consequently none more pretty. Such trash is the disgrace of our tongue. — Campbell. In a play of Douglas Jerrold an old sailor, attempting to snatch a kiss, gets a box" on the ear. " Just my luck," he exclaims ; " al- ways wrecked on the coral reefs." When the manager heard the play read he could see no point to this remark, and insisted that it should be struck out. Not to he Acquired. — Nor can a sense of the humorous be acquired. It must be felt, and instantly, or it vanishes. The moment you seek to fix it, to study it, to analyze it, the virtue has departed. Though you should resolve into it-s elements every funny thing that had ever happened Chap. VII.] PERCEPTION OF THE LUDICROUS. 107 you might still be blind to the next that occurred, for the humorous is mercurial in its manifestations. Sometimes it lieth in pat allusion to a known story, or in a sea- sonable application of a trivial saying, or in forging an apposite tale ; sometimes it playeth in words and phrases, taking advan- tage from the ambiguity of theu* sense or the affinity of their sound ; sometimes it is ^-rapped up in a dress of humorous ex- pression ; sometimes it lurketh under aji odd similitude ; some- times it is lodged in a sly question, in a smart answer, ina quirkish reason, in cunningly diverting or cleverly retorting an objection ; sometimes it is concealed in a bold scheme of speech, in a tart irony, in a startling metaphor, in a plausible reconciling of contra- dictions, or in acute nonsense ; sometimes a, scenical representa- tion of persons or things, a counterfeit speech, a mimical look or gesture passeth for it ; sometimes an affected simplicity, sometimes a presumptuous bluntness giveth it being ; sometimes it riseth only upon a lucky hitting upon what is strange ; sometimes from a crafty wresting obvious matter to the purpose. Often it consist- eth in one hardly loiows what, and springeth up one can hardly tell how, being answerable to the numberless rovings of fancy and windings of language. — Babrow. Yalue not Factitious. — It is largely because this sense of humor is unattainable that its possession gives such pleasure. We value most what is hardest to get. But the value of a sense of humor is by no means factitious. Mirth is as innate iu the mind as any other original faculty. The absence of it, in individuals or in communities, is a defect ; for there are various forms of imposture which wit, and wit alone, can expose and punish. "\\'ithout a well-trained capacity to per- ceive the ludicrous, the health suffers, both of the body and the mind, seriousness dwindles into asceticism, sobriety degenerates into bigotry, and the natural order of things gives way to the vagaries of a distempered imagination. — WnippiiE. Instances of this kind are perhaps most common and most la- mentable in those who have to do with sacred subjects. Ozanam, the -mathematician, said it was for the Sorbonne to discuss, for the 108 WHY THE LUDICROUS GIVES PLEASURE. [Part IL Pope to decide, and for the mathematician to go to heaven in a perpendicular line. In one of the mysteries enacted in Germany, toward the end of the last century, the Creator of the world was represented as an old gentleman in a wig, who groped about in the dark, and after running his head against the posts exclaimed in utter peevishness, " Let there be light," and there was light — the light of a tallow candle. So in a grave sermon, Francis Meres (the same to whom we are indebted for the earliest critical mention of Shakspere) made out addition and multiplication to be God's arithmetic, because when he had made Adam and Eve he caused them to increase and multi- ply, but subtraction and division to be the devil's arithmetic, be- cause the arch enemy subtracted Delilah from Samson and divided Michal from David. From absurdities like these the slightest sense of the ludicrous would protect a reverent mind. " In every condition of man it is play, and play alone, that makes him complete,'' says Schiller. "Humor is the harmony of the heart," says Douglas Jerrold. " Even genius and philanthropy," to quote again from Whipple, " are incomplete without they are accompanied by some sense of the ludicrous, for an extreme sen- sitiveness to the evil and misery of society becomes a madden- ing torture if not modified by a feeling of the humorous, and urges its subjects into morbid exaggeration of life's dark side." Not to he Obtruded. — It should be noted that those in whom the sense of humor is keenest often display it least. When a man explains his understanding of a joke his enjoyment of it is superficial. Such a one is so impatient to obtrude his appreciation of the funny that he never permits the funny fully to develop itself. The true humorist is never in a hurry. If you bungle iii telling a story familiar to him he does not interrupt you, even to hint that he has heard it before, but lets you blunder on to the conclusion, finding it doubly ludicrous that you suppose he is laughing at the story, while in fact he is laughing at you. Chap. VII.] PERCEPTION OP THE LUDICROUS. 109 A common incident is the first visit of the bearclles& boy to the barber's shop. In all these stories the barber parades his face- tiousness. For instance, he lathers his customer's face and then sits down to read the morning newspaper. " What are you waiting for ? " asks the boy ; and the barber re- plies : "Waiting for your beard to grow." Now, the barber spoils the joke by obtruding his own smart- ness. The true humorist would lather and shave the smooth face as if it were a Leadville miner's ; would inquire if the razor took hold well, and if all the beard should be removed or a small goatee left to sort of balance the moustache, like ; and all so deftly and iinperturbably that the boy would pay his bill with the air of a vet- eran, and swagger off like a drum-major. In a recently published book of memoirs we are told that some- thing in the appearance of Professor Buttmann, the profound Greek scholar, irresistibly impressed every one he met with the idea that he was a barber. Passing along the street one day he was hailed from an upper window by some one to him unknown, who beck- oned to him to ascend ; and when the wise man entered command- ed curtly : "Cut my hair." The professor meekly obeyed, and had about half- concluded the operation when the victim, looking into the glass, discovered that one side of his head had been reduced to baldness, while the other looked as if it had been gnawed by an absent-minded mule. " Merciful Heaven !" he yelled, "you don't know how to cut hair." " You did not ask me whether I did or not ; I am Professor Buttmann," and with a low bow the learned man departed. He was a true humorist. Enjoyed in Proportion to Difficulty. — Like all our other powers, the faculty of appreciating the funny is enjoyed in proportion to the difficulties it encounters. There is most zest in the game of chess that we barely win, and that is to us the funniest joke which we barely see and our neighbors do not see at all. 110 WHY THE LUDICROUS GIVES PLEAStrEE. [Pakt II. One -who has addressed different audiences knows how impossi- ble it is to predict the reception a certain anecdote will receive. Told precisely alike in three different places, one audience will laugh till the tears come, another will sit stolid because it fails to see the point, and the third will sneer because it sees the point too easily. It must be- confessed that one must listen to many stories to find a point new enough to occasion the surprise which is the chief ele- ment of the ludicrous. Dr. Johnson projected a work " to show how small a quantity of real fiction there is in the world and that the same images, with very few variations, have served all authors who have ever written. " Certainly a bare dozen would make up a majority of the paragraphs gleaned for in the funny columns of our newspapers. It would be worth the student's while to count the proportion which relate to the mother-in-law, to' big feet, to doc- tors killing their patients, to the poor mule that won't work both ways, and to the servant-girl who kindled a fire with naphtha and nothing has benzine of her since. Conventional Joltes. — N^ot only are a majority of jokes built on a few dummy ideas, but the ideas themselves are only conventionally funnj^, so that the laugh is not at the idea, but at some peculiarity in the expression. For instance, the world has agreed to smile when it is suggested that a doctor kills his patients. As long ago as when Martial wrote this was an accepted joke, and one of his epigrams may be thus translated : A doctor lately was a captain made ; It is a change of titles, not o£ trade. Now the ways in which this assumption may be suggested are numberless. A physician's wife looking out of the window sees her husband in a funeral procession. "I do wish he would not go to the grave," she complains, " it looks so like a tailor carrying home his work." Two teams are travelling along a lonely road. One tries in vain to pass the other, and the driver calls out, " Say, man, what's your business ? " Chap. Vil] PEliCBPTION OP THE LUDICROtTS. ill " I am a physician, sir," replies the other stiffly. " All right, then, you ought to keep ahead ; I carry coffins." A practitioner finds a lady reading ".Twelfth Night," and asks : " "When Shakspere wrote about Patience on a Monument did he mean doctors' patients ? " " No," is the reply ; " you don't find doctors' patients on monu- ments, but under them." The essence of the ludicrous is incongruity, and in the best jokes the incongruity lies in the ideas. But here the main incon- gruity lies in assuming that doctors, whose business it is to cure patients, really kill them. In this thei-e is no longer any novelty, and therefore whatever is funny must come from the particular form of expression. The novelty of expression in anecdotes like these is largely based upon punning. The jokes are mere twist- ings of words, artificial, and at the best but dexterous. But with the man deficient in humor they are favorites, because he can commit them to memory and rememfier to laugh at them whenever they are dressed up and trotted out. Especially grateful to such a mind is the joke that derives all its humor from frequent repetition. In the play of the "Mighty Dollar" the persistent misuse of capital letters is regarded as a " K. G."- — capital joke — " by a lai'ge majority." Ainerican humor is characterized by what may be termed the omission of the major premise. The logicians resolve every judgment into a syllogism. Thus, if we conclude that a heavy fall of snow is a blessing because it pro- vides poor people with work in shovelling off sidewalks, our entire thought is this : Major premise — Whatever provides poor people with work is a blessing. Minor premise — Such a snow provides poor people with work. Conclusion — Therefore such a snow is a blessing. Now, we do not usually stop to express the major pre- mise, but go at once from the minor to the conclusion. A syllo- gism with one of the premises omitted is called an enthymeme, and the word is worth remembering because it describes it exactly to call the typical joke of the period an enthymeme. "Will the boy who threw that red pepper on the stove come forward and get a nice book ? " asked an Iowa Sunday-school su- 112 WHY THE LTTDIOROtrs GIVES PLEAStTRE. [Part II. perintendent, with a bland smile. But the boy never stirred. He was a far-seeing boy. Now there is a capital enthymeme. The major premise is that if the boy had come up he would have got walloped ; but that is left to the imagination, being, in fact, implied in the pepper. A Western coroner's jury brought in a verdict that the deceased came to his death from calling Bill Jones a liar. A Sharon man stole a peck of dahlia-roots under the impression that they were sweet-potatoes. He felt the deception keenly. A New Fairfield man who failed to get a thirty-cent pineapple for a quarter of a. dollar wanted to know whether we were breath- ing the pure air of freedom or being strangled by the fetid fumes of a foreign despotism. The store-keeper said those were the only pine-apples he had. A man from Maine, who had never paid more than twenty-five cents to see an entertainment, went to a New York theatre where the play was " The Forty Thieves," and was charged a dollar and a half for a ticket. Handing the pasteboard back, he remarked, "Keep it, mister ; I don't want to see the other thirty-nine." A Milford resident came to New Haven for a spree. He had it. In a drunken stupor he stumbled into the Fair Haven rolling-mill, where he awoke at night to see molten iron glaring, bright sparks flying, laborers gliding to and fro in the lurid flame, and horrible shadows. As he rubbed his eyes a workman asked him where he came from. He gasped : "When I was on earth I lived in New Milford." In this sort of anecdotes it is assumed that the hearer's mind is bright and quick enough to supply the missing connection. The hearer is gratified by this confidence, and by his ability to justify it, and would resent your thinking it necessary even to hint, "This is a goak. — A. Ward." "While this omission of the connection adds to the pleas- ure of those able to supply it, unfortunately it produces confusion or blankness in the minds of those who are una- ble to do so. The great success of Artemas Ward's career was his lecture on Utah, delivered in Egyptian Hall, London. After a prologue, in- Chap. VII.] PERCEPTION OP THE LTJDICEOTJS. 113 tended, as the programme stated, to show what a good education the lecturer had, Artemas went on to inform his audience that it was an error to call Salt Lake City the City of the Plain, as some of the women were really very pretty. The Mormon's religion, he said, was singular, but his wives were plural. The " Lady of Lyons " was produced at the Mormon theatre, but failed to satisfy the au- dience because there was only one Pauline in it, and it seemed ridiculous to make so much fuss over a single woman. The play was revised at once and presented the next evening with fifteen Paulines in the cast, whereupon it became a great success. "Brigham Young," he said, " is an indulgent father and a nu- merous husband. He has two hundred wives. Just think of that ! Oblige me by thinking of that. Two hundred souls with but a single thought, two hundred hearts that beat as one. He loves not wisely but two hundred well. He is dreadfully married. He is the most married man I ever saw in my life. I saw his mother- in-law when I was there. I can't tell you exactly how many there is of her, but it is a good deal. It strikes me that one mother-in- law is about enough to have in the family — unless you are fond of excitement. A few days before my arrival Brigham Young was married again to a young and reaUy pretty girl. He told me con- fidentially that he shouldn't get man'ied any more. He says that all he wants now is to live on in peace for the remainder of his days, and to have his dying pillow soothed by the loving hands of his family. Well — that's all right — I suppose ; but if he has his dying pillow soothed by the loving hands of all his family, he'll have to go out of doors to die.'' Eobert Lowe heard this lecture, and laughed heartily all the evening. John Bright sat stolid, listening with grave attention, and afterward remarked : "I must say I can't see what people find to enjoy in this lecture. The information is meagre, and is presented in a desultory, discon- nected manner. In fact, I can't help seriously questioning some of his statements." WIT AND HUMOR. The ludicrous has two general divisions, not always dis- tinguished, and not easy accurately to define, yet between Il4 WIT AND HXJMOE DISTINGUISHED. [Part it wliich it is important to discriminate. These are wit and humor, some diiferences between which may be pointed out in a series of parallel descriptions. 1. Humor is enjoyed, in proportion as it is expected j wit in proportion as it is unexpected. The first limit to be affixed to that observation of relations which produces the feeling of wit is that they must be relations which excite surprise. If you tell me that all men must die I am very little struck with what you say, because it is not an assertion very remarkable, for its novelty ; but if you were to say that man was like an hour-glass — that both must run out, and both render up their dust, I should listen to you with moi-e attention, because I should feel something like surprise at the sudden relation you had struck out between two such apparently dissimilar ideas as a man and a time-glass. — Svdnby Smith. To compare one man's singing to that of another, or to represent the whiteness of any object by that of milk or snow, or the variety of its colors by those of the rainbow, cannot be called wit, unless besides this obvious resemblance there be some further congruity discovered in the two ideas that is capable of giving the reader some surprise. Thus when a poet tells us the bosom of his mistress is as white as snow there is no wit in the comparison ; but when he adds with a sigh that it is as cold, too, it then grows into wit. — Addison. Hence wit bears no repetition. If we enjoy hearing or telling a witty thing a second time it is not for the sensation of perceiving the wit itself, but to observe its expression in those who have not before heard it, a pleasure akin rather to humor. In antithesis the pleasure of wit is increased by prevision of the witty climax. Thus when a man holds up a letter left at his door containing only the words "April Fool," and says, "I have often heard of people who wrote letters and forgot to sign their names, but this is the first instance in which I have known a man " — by this time the quick hearer has completed the anti-climax and anti- cipates the conclusion — "to sign his name and forget to write the letter." Take another utterance of the same preacher : " The first day I was sea-sick I was afraid I should die ; the second day I didn't care Chap. Vll.l EXPBCTEDNESS ; INSTANTAISTEOUSNESS. 115 whether I did or not ; the third day — I was afraid I shouldn't." The hearer jumps at the climax and begins to laugh before it is enunciated. When Dean Stanley came to this country the proprietor of a cer- tain hotel, anxious to do honor to his guest, stationed a boy at the speaking-tube leading from the dean's room, and said : "Now, boy, be very respectful. Listen attentively, and when you hear him call answer at once, and if he asks who is there re- ply, ' The boy, my lord.' " The boy tried to follow instructions, but gi-ew so nervous over their importance that when at last the dean did call through the tube and ask who was there the little fellow piped out : — By the time the story has got this far everybody knows the boy cried, " The Lord, my boy.'' Here it might at first seem that the mind enjoyed the wit better because it was prepared for it — in other words, when there was less surprise. But the wit lies, not in enunciating the entire sentence, but in conceiving it, and gives the hearer greater pleasure because the mind is able to do more than is asked of it ; not only appre- ciate the point, but anticipate it. Brevity is the soul of wit, and wit is most enjoyed by those who can communicate it by short-hand reporting. To perceive in the middle of a sentence what most of the world will catch only at the end is a mental triumph as grati- fying as it is exhilarating. On the other hand, to appreciate the humorous the mind needs, as it were, to adjust itself, and sometimes loses the pleasure of the iirst sentence or two of a humorous descrip- tion because it is not quite certain whether what is said is to be judged by matter-of-fact standards or looked at through the spectacles of humor. When it is assured of the latter it drops the customary attitude of critical judg- ment, and settles down to enjoyment. 2. Wit is instantaneous ; humor is continuous. A witty story may be long, but only that the hearers' minds may be thoroughly prepared to appreciate the catas- trophe ; or if it consist of witty dialogue, each happy hit 116 WIT AND HtTMOR DISTINGUISHED. [Part II. gives its individual pleasure, like so many taps ; the taps may even be too frequent, as in Sheridan's comedies. Humor may characterize an entire description, a whole book, all that is known of an intimate acquaintance. Hu- mor pervades, while wit embellishes. Humor glows, wit sparkles. 3. Humor may he mcmifest in action. Wit must he ex- pressed in words. In both there is perception of incongruity, but in wit the connection of the two incongruous idpas is made by language, while in humor it may result from movement. As you increase the iaoongruity you increase the humor ; as you diminish it you diminish the humor. If a tradesman of corpulent and respectable appearance, with habiliments somewhat too ostenta- tious, were to slide down gently into the mud and decorate a pea- green coat, I am afraid we should all have the barbarity to laugh. If his hat and wig, like treacherous servants, were to desert their falling master, it certainly would not diminish our propensity, to laugh. But if he were to fall into a violent passion and abuse everybody about him, nobody could possibly resist the incongruity of a pea-green tradesman, very respectable, sitting in the mud and threatening all the passers-by with the effects of his wrath. Here every circumstance heightens the humor of the scene — the gaiety of his tunic, the general respectability of his appearance, the rills of muddy water which trickle down his cheeks, and the harmless violence of his rage. But if instead of this we were to observe a dustman falling into the mud it would hardly attract any attention, because the opposition of ideas is so trifling and the incongruity so slight. — Sydney Smith. 4. Wit m,ay he wholly imaginative. Humor involmes sentiment and character. In fact the quality of wit exists wherever imagination percolates through the understanding ; the sediment is the grain-gold of wit. But the quality of humor, depending upon various moral traits, exists only wherever a broad imagination is combined with a sweet Chap. VII.] HOW MANIFESTED AND LIMITED. PUNS. 117 9 and tolerant moral sense that is devoid of malice and all nncharit- ableness and at peace with all mankind. — Weiss. In the simply laughable there is a mere disproportion between a definite act and a definite person or end ; or a disproportion of the end itself to the rank or circumstances of the definite person. Com- bination of thoughts, words, or images will not of itself constitute humor, unless some peculiarity of temperament or character be in- dicated thereby as the cause of the same. The excellencies of Sterne consist in bringing forward into dis- tinct consciousness those minviioB of thought and feeling which appear trifles yet have ||i importance for the moment, and which almost every man feels in one way or other. Thus is produced the novelty of an individual peculiarity, together with the interest of a something that belongs to our common nature. In short, Sterne seizes happily on those points in which every man is more or less a humorist. And, indeed, to be a little more subtle, the propen- sity to notice these things does in itself constitute the humorist, and the superadded power of so presenting them to men in gen- eral gives us the man of humor. — Coleridgb. The four humors in a man, according to the old physicians, were blood, choler, phlegm, and melancholy. So long as these were duly mixed all would be well. But so soon as any of them unduly preponderated the man became humorous, one humor or another bearing too great a sway in him. As such his conduct would not be according to the received rule of other men, but have some- thing peculiar, whimsical, self-willed in it. In this self-assert- ing character of the humorous man lay the point of contact between the modern use of humor and the ancient. It was his humor which would lead a man to take an original view and aspect oi things, a humorous aspect, first in the old sense, and then in that which we now employ. The great passage in English literature on humor and its history is the prologue, or " stage," as it is called, to Ben Jonson's " Every Man in His Humor." PUNS. The most purely abstract form of wit is punning, which Weiss defines a constraint of two different ideas to be ex- 118 WIT AND HUMOR DISTINaUISHED. [Part II. pressed by one word, while wit proper is the constraint of two different objects to be expressed by one idea. Several classes of puns have been distinguished. i. Where the same form has several meanings ; as Fair : 1, beauti- ful ; 2, just ; 3, a market-place. At one light bound high overleaped all bound. — Paradise Lost. "I'm transported to see you, " as the convict said to the kangaroo. ' ' You are very pressing, " as the filbert said to the nut-cracker. A. gentleman observed one day to Mr. Erskine that punning was the lowest kind of wit. " It is so," he replied, "and therefore at the foundation of them all." ~ I am something like a corn-field, with plenty of ears but no particular idea of music. — John Phcenix. Dean Eamsey tells of a soaked Scotch minister who was rubbed down at the kirk, and told he need not fear ; he would be dry- enough when he got into the pulpit. ii. Where two words of different meaning are pronounced alike though spelled differently ; as son and sun, peer and pier, etc. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew. — Merchant of Venice. Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads. — Id. They went and told the sexton, And the sexton tolled the bell. — Hood. Theodore Hook said of an author who gave his publisher a din- ner, "I suppose he poured his wine-cellar into his book-seller." John Phoenix tells of a mother so frugal that her very first ad- monition to her infant was, " Buy low, baby.'' While in the city of the Golden Gate I sent to the cook for a broiled chop, but he sent me a fried one. It must be a satisfaction in one's last moments to receive consolation from a San Franciscan friar. — Id. The shadow of myself formed in her eye, Which, being but the shadow of your son, Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow. — King John. iii. A third class is of those that are spelled differently, and pronounced nearly though not quite alike ; as, baron, barren ; sea- son, seizing, etc., though these more frequently produce malaprops jfchan puns. Chap. VII.] PUNS. 119 Mrs. Malaprop .talks of contagious countries, and recommends a nice derangement of epitaphs. iv. There are cases in which a phrase or idiom consisting of two. or three words may be used equivocally, and thus considered as a pun. Sydney Smith, hearing a boy read of patriarchs as partridges, declared it was too bad to make game of them. "Is Mr. Smith a legal voter?" asked a politician at election. " Yes," replied a by-stander, ' ' but being sick abed he is an ill-legal voter to-day." One day, observing on a board the warning, " Beware the dog," Hood wrote underneath, " Ware be the dog ? " . John Phoenix tells of an inquisitive man who married simply be- cause, having exhausted all other subjects of inquiry, he asked the young lady if she would have him. For if the Jew do cut but deep enough, I'll pay it instantly with all my heart. ■ — Merchant of Venice. V. In Milton there are less puns than conceits, after the spirit of Italian literature. Highly they raged against the Highest. — Paradise Lost. His only pleasure is to be displeased. — Cowpbr. " There's something in that," as the cat said when she peeped into the milk-jug. vi. The double pun is usually too elaborate to have the mark of spontaneousness indispensable even to moderate enjoyment of a pun. Freshman. — May I have the pleasure? Miss Society. — Oui. Freshman. — What does " we '' mean ? Miss S.— O, U and I. When Ouida asked Charles Eeade for a name for her dog he suggested "Tonic," adding, "it is sure to be a mixture of bark, steal, and whine." " Ten days or ten dollars," said the judge, and the prisoner, a sullen-looking fellow, paid the fine and was discharged. He walked moodily out of the court-room, but when he reached the door turned and showered a tirade of profane abuse upon the 120 WIT AND HUMOR DISTINGUISHED. [Part II. magistrate. Then he ran into the corridor, but before he could reach the street he was recaptured, and stood again before the bar. "Ten dollars more," said the judge ; " if you had used language more chaste and refined, you would not have thus been chased and refined." Coleridge remarks : ' ' Baxter, like most scholastic logicians, had a sneaking affection for puns. The cause is — the necessity of at- tending to the primary sense of words, that is, the visual image or general relation expressed, and which remains common to all the after-senses, however widely or even incongruously differing from each other in other respects. For the same reason schoolmasters are commonly punsters. 'I have endorsed your Bill, sir,' said a pedagogue to a merchant, meaning he had flogged his son William.'' But no man of sense betrays an affection for puns which is not sneaking. The temptation is often irresistible, but the offence should be accompanied by an apology, at least implied in the in- flection, or in an humble drop of the eyelids. Let it never be for- gotten that a pun for its own sake is at best but playful, and is per- missible only when play is permissible. Think of finding in grave diBcourse a triviality like this : " Wlien the infinite I AM beheld his work of creation, he said Thou Art, and ART was." While the mere pun is at best a childish frolicsomeness, the pun as an adjunct to wit may intensify the effect. When Sydney Smith recommended the bishops to lay their heads together to malte a wooden pavement, and when Burke pointed out that majesty, de- prived of its externals (m | a jest | y, ) was only a jest, judgment un- derlay the puns and converted the thought into sarcasm. Sometimes, however, a pun blunts the shaft of wit. For in- stance : • Irony employs wit to feather its purport. A Frenchman said of a man who really did never make a witty remark : " How full of wit that man must be ! he never lets any escape." That when translated is improved, because the English word any can refer at once to no wit and to no person's escaping the effect of wit. Thus the irony is increased. — Weiss. On the contrary, so far as any doubt is produced as to whether the meaning is, let any man escape — which is pure irony — or let any wit escape — which is wit edged by a pun — the hearer is con- fused, and his perception, divided between two ideas, is not strongly impressed by either. Chap. VII.] PUNS. 121 It must be admitted that Charles Lamb, a capital authority, defends this very indefi- niteneBB as foUowB : An Oxford scholar, meeting a porter who was caixying a hare through the streets^ accosta him with this extraordinary question : " Prithee, friend, is that thy own hare or a wig ? " There is no excusing this and no resisting it. A man might blur ten sides of paper in attempting a defence of it against a critic who should be laughter-proof. The quibble itself is not considerable. It is only a new turn given by a little false pronunciation to a very common though not very courteous inquiry. Put by one gentleman to another at a dinner-party it would have been vapid ; to the mistress of the house it would have shown much less wit than rudeness. "We must take in the totality of time, place, and person ; the pert look of the inquiring scholar, the desponding looks of the puzzled porter ; the one stopping at his leisure, the other hurrying on with his burden ; the innocent though rather abrupt tendency of the first member of the question, with the utter and inextrica- ble irrelevancy of the second ; the place — a public street, not favorable to frivolous inves- tigation ; the afErontive quality of the primitive inquiry (the common question) invidi- ously transferred to the derivative (the new turn given to it) in the implied satire — namely, that few of that tribe are expected to eat of the good things which they carry, they being in most countries considered rather as the temporary trustees than owners of such dainties — which the fellow was beginning to understand ; but then wig again comes in, and he can make nothing of it ; all put together constitute a picture : Hogarth could have made it intelligible on canvas. Yet nine out of ten critics will pronounce this a very bad pun, because of the defect- iveness in the concluding member, which is its very beauty, and constitutes the Burpriso, ^Popular Fallacies. When the purpose of puns is to enliven what otherwise might be monotonous and dreary, puns appropriate and facile are often very entertaining. "Mr. Duyckinck truly says that ' an auctioneer is bound to hold his own against aU in- terlocutors. . . . It is his business to control the audiences and their purses. To do this he must keep his company in good humor, and least of aU suffer any intellectual dis- comfiture. Keese never lost his superiority.' ' ' But let us get into the auction-room. A narrative of the Battle of Waterloo is put up. ' How much for it ? ' Twenty-five cents was bid. ' There way no quarter at the Battle of Waterloo, my dear sir.' I believe it was the late Mr. Gowans who, when the auctioneer held in his hand ' Some Accounti ol the Centaurs,' declared that there couldn't be a history of what never existed, and wanted an instance of a Centaur ; whereupon the doubter was referred to the Biblical record of the head of John tho Baptist coming in on a charger. "A witticism sometimes might be beyond the ken of a portion of his audience, as when he spoke of Cadmus as the ' first post-boy,' because *he carried letters from Phce- nicia to Greece ; ' but when he knocked down Dagley's 'Death's Doings' for seventy-five cents to ' a decayed apothecary,' with the consolatory comment of ' smallest fevers gratefully received,' there was no lack of comprehension. Selling a black letter volume * Concerning the Apparel of Ministers,' he supposed it referred probably to their * surplus ornaments ; ' and he assured his audience that the ' Poems of the Rev. Mr. Logan ' were the Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon— at all events the brays. 122 WIT AND HUMOR DISTINGUISHED. [Part II. " An illustration of his readiness was when a parcel of fancy envelopes was passed up to be sold in one lob. ' How many are there ? ' was shouted from various parts of the room. 'O! I don't know ; too many to number. How much for the lot ? ' At last they were knocked down. ' What name? ' ' Cowper I ' 'It shall be Cowper's Task to count them,' instantly exclaimed the auctioneer. "A joke much relished by the bouk-binding fraternity was his likening a ledger to Austria, because it was backed and cornered by Russia ; and when it was knocked down to a Mr. Owen Phalen he paused at the name and said reflectively : ' Don't know about selHng to a man that^s always- Owen and Phalen,' " At one of the sales of furniture a table of curious design was sold to a bidder who left it to be called for.-" Some time elapsed, when a friend happening in admired the table, and wished to buy it at private sale. My father told him it was sold to a party who thus far had proved himself the most un-com-for-table-man he ever knew. " I remember when a lot of Wade & Butcher's Sheffield razors was included in the catalogue the auctioneer said there was no limit to their sanguinary possibilities, for the purchaser ' might wade in blood and butcher al] his friends.' ' Never mind, you'll have one volume less to read,' he said to a bidder who found his sot of books short; and when another wanted to know where the outside of his copy of Lamb was, the auctioneer con- jectured that ' somebody had fleeced it,' adding consolingly, ' but you can recover it, you know.' A back-gammon board was put up, ' to be sold on the square, and as perfect as any copy of Milton,' which comparison necessitated the explanation that there was a pair o' dice lost ; and ' Three Eras of a Woman's Life,' elicited the running comment of ' Wonderful woman — only three errors. How much— thirty cents — only ten cents apiece — not very expensive errors after all,' " 5, The pleasure of wit lies in the understanding / of humor in the sentiment. Hence : 6. Wit is without sympathy^ while humor is hased upon it, "Wit laughs at^ while humor laughs with. Wit pun- ishes, but discourages ; humor is a solvent in which the severest admonishings may be accepted hopefully. We do well to consider that wit is an nntractable faculty. Un- less it is well bridled it will overleap the bounds of propriety. Most of the keen darts of wit that one hears whizzing by have been pointed, barbed, and poisoned by malignity, and fix on some person the stigma of vice, folly, or weakness. . . . The wit can hardly prevail on himself to withhold a gibe for the sake of affection. He falsely presumes that his friends will not smart under the thrusts he gives them ; or if they do, that they will forgive the of- fence since it is committed by him. So he goes on, putting their patience to the proof, till he has provoked them past endurance. He who would be a wit must be content to boast few friends. A joke is an " air-drawn dagger," from which our flesh instinctively Chap. VII.] THE SPHERE OF EACH, IRONY. 123 shrinks. We see not the hand that grasps it, and cannot divine how deep it will strike ; should it prove harmless, we do not thank it for startling us. — Hbrvby. This sharpness of tongue provokes retort, the bitterness of which is not softened to the victim by the reflection that he has deserved it, and that the sympathy of by-standers will be with the one first offended. " No woman is worth looking at after thirty," i-emarked a bride with youthful arrogance. " Quite true," calmly replied her com- panion a few years older, " nor worth listening to before.'' Talleyrand was lame, and Madame de Stael was cross-eyed. There was no love lost between them, and both disliked to be re- minded of their infirmities. "Monsieur,'' said madame, meeting her dearest foe one day, " pray how is that poor leg ? " " Crooked, as you see, madame,'' was the reply. Frederick the Second had a liking for the witty philosopher Mendelssohn, but was once induced as an experiment to put at hia plate the following note : Mendelssohn is an tiss. Feedbbiok II. Mendelssohn took up the note, read it, and remarked that some one had taken an unpardonable liberty with his majesty, having here presumed to say that Mendelssohn was one ass, and that Frederick was the second. A certain petulant Greek, objecting to Anacharsis that he was a Scythian — "True," says Anacharsis, " my countiy disgraces me, but you disgrace your country." IRONY. "Where wit is sarcastic, humor is ironical. Irony is jesting hidden beneath gravity, while humor is gravity concealed behind the jest. . . . The mind uses irony when it gravely states an opinion or sentiment which is the opposite of its belief, with the moral purpose of showing its real dissent from the opinion. It must, therefore, be done with this, wink from the pur- pose in it, so that it may not pass for an acquiescence in an oppo- 124 WIT AND HUMOR DISTINGTJISHBD. [Part II. site sentiment. It may be done so well as to deceive even the very elect ; and perhaps the ordinary mind complains of irony as wanting in straightforwardness. There is a moment of hesitation, when the mind stoops over this single intention with a double ap- pearance, and doubts upon which to settle as the real prey. So that only carefully poised minds with the falcon's or the vulture's glance can always discriminate rapidly enough to seize the point. In this moment of action the pleasure of irony is developed, which arises from a discovery of the contrast between the thing said and the thing intended. And this pleasure is heightened when we observe the contrast between the fine soul who means nobly and his speaking as if he meant to be ignoble. Then the ignoble thing is doubly condemned, first, by having been briefly mistaken to be the real opinion of the speaker, and then by the flash of recognition of the speaker's superiority. ... In matters which are morally indifferent irony is only a jesting which is dis- guised by gravity, as when we apparently agree with the notions of another person which are averse from our own, so that we puzzle him not only on the point of our own notion, but on the point of his own, and he begins to have a suspicion that he is not sound in the matter. This suspicion is derived from the mind's instinctive feeling that irony is a trait of a superior person who can afi'ord to have a stock of original ideas with which he tests opinion, and who holds them so securely that he can never play with them a losing game. . . . Amauwhopretehds to hold the opposite of his own belief is morally a hypocrite until we detect that slight touch of banter which is the proof of genuine irony. Then we see that he is honest though he equivocates, for he belies himself with sin- cerity. A man who can afford this is to that extent superior to the man who, whether right or wrong, is hopelessly didactic, and in- capable of commending his own opinions by the bold ease with which he may deplore them. — Weiss. Irony assumes on the part of the hearer a certain acquaintance with the speaker which gives the hearer rea- son to believe that the sentiments uttered cannot be the genuine belief of the speaker. Only so far as this ac- quaintance is rightfully assumed has the speaker any right Chap. Yll.] IRONY. 1^5 to complain if his irony is received as statement of fact, and if he is himself rated accordnigly. Thus if an artist were to point out the superiority of a -wretoliecl wood-cut over a fine steel-engraving, a person who knew the wood- cut to be wretched would do well to smile over the criticism as "ironical. But if a stranger should gravely utterthe same remarks, the same person might listen respectfully, having no reason to suppose that the stranger was less of an ignoramus than he repre- sented himself, and not wishing to hurt his feelings by exposing his stupidity. Genuine humorists are occasionally rebuked by the grave stare of surprise called forth by a remark meant to be received as ironi- cal. Especially common is this experience with children, whose calm glance of disapproval is often more effective than a stinging reply. Irony is often carried beyondj^B||nt bounds. When Sydney Smith explained to a slif^^ra! parishioner that he kept his dog chained because itJipfa acquired an imfortu- nate habit of eating up the paitjili boys, buttons and all, his humor is possiblj* within rea^onj^the buttons making it at least thoroughly obvious. But, the question becomes doubtful when he informs f: gentleman that he has one secret wish — to I'oast a Quaker ; adding that it may be wrong, that the Quaker would undoubtedly suffer acutely, but that every one has his tastes, and his own is to roast a Quaker ; one would satisfy him, only one ; but it was one of the peculiarities he had striven against in vain, and he trusted his hearer would pardon his weakness. In like manner Charles Lamb, asked how he liked babies, stammered: " B-b-boiled." A modern "humorist," plagiarizing the irony and the pun, has elaborated them into a paragraph fit only for the Fiji-islanders : In every age and eveiy clime the best and noblest men loved children. Even wicked men have a tender spot left in their hard- 126 WIT AND HUMOR DISTlNGtriSHED. [Pabt.II. ened hearts for little children. The great men of the earth love them. Dogs love them. Kamahamekemokimodahroah, the king of the Cannibal islands, loves them — rare, and no gravy. Ah, yes, we all love children. — Burlington Hamkeye. Equally revolting is the following : The best thing to make grape-vines grow is dogs ; bury 'em right down among the roots. Some people prefer grandmothers and their other relations. But gi' me dogs and cats. — Max Adblbr. Swift's " Modest Proposal " for preventing the children of the poor in Ireland from being burdensome, and for making them beneficial by using them for food, was seri- ously quoted and condemned. The impulse to irony has been thus explained : Suppose. I venture to play before a company a sonata of Beetho- ven, and that as I rise a lady rather gushingly exclaims : " Oh, thank you, thank y(yu ; we have all enjoyed it so much ! " Now, if I have playedio rrr own fair satisfaction, I simply bow and say I am glad to have Jiven pleasure. If the speaker is a friend, and I feel that I have done jparticularly well, I may even unbosom myself to the extent |^ remarking that I think the per- formance was tolerable fofjmeN"" If I have been nervous, have blundered, have played much be- low my possibilities, I shall probaljly endeavor to suppress my an- noyance, accept the compliments without comment, and change the subject. If I have played shockingly, losing all grasp of the spirit of the composition, and merely striking upon the piano the ivory and ebony equivalent of the notes on the score, without other thought than the set purpose to grit my teeth, sit firm on the stool, and get to the end of the piece without breaking down, I shall probably look my flatterer steadily in the eye as I remark that she is very kind to say so. But if in addition to utter failure in this instance I see that to attempt to play was idiotic, such pieces being far beyond my lim- ited accomplishments, and if this individual discomfiture sinks in- distinguishable into the general consciousness of ineffable weak- ness and stupidity, which alone could have persuaded me to try Chap. VII.] THE IMPULSE TO IRONY. 127 what a well-constructed automaton would know I was incapable to do, so that I long to get into the attic of an empty house and snort at myself, then I shall probably, smile blandly on my tormentor, assure her that in congratulating me she chooses the right word, since the audience should share the honor of the performance, the finest artistic efforts being possible only in a company of artists, and that if I seemed at the moment to be inspired it was because the sympathy and appreciation of my listeners lifted me out of my- self, so that instead of playing the sonata I had really been played by it, and so on. This I conceive to be irony. Whether I shall so turn the ex- pression as to show my companion that I mean it for irony depends upon the respect I have for her. If I like her I shall very likely intensify my expressions until she recognizes the sarcasm, even if I have to go to the extent of promising some time to play for her a piece really worthy of myself and the audience — " Silver Threads among the Gold," for instance. But if I think her silly or malicious, it will probably relieve me a little to have her either believe all that I say, or believe that I believe it, in which case I shall graduate any exaggeration according to her credulity. There are three degrees of indignation. The first, indignation pure and simple, finds sufficient expres- sion in strong words that directly manifest the feeling. Beyond this is a stage where language is inadequate, and one turns away with a gesture, a shrug, a withering glance. This is scorn. But there is a step beyond scorn, where the indignation is too bitter for silence, and must, by elaborating and exaggerating, grind the shameful conviction into one's soul, gloating over its artistic completeness. This is irony. Banter is the badinage of the French, irony ihmx persiflage. Eeal irony seems to stand midway between banter and sarcasm. Banter is the playful and sarcasm the ferocious form of irony. . . . The peculiar mode of disputation adopted by Socrates consisted in a playful entanglement of his opponent in admissions which, while appearing to support and strengthen the argument of his opponent, in reality involved him in an absurd conclusion. He was made to take the bait, all unconscious of the hook by 128 WIT AND HUMOR DISTINGtJISHBD. [Part II. which he was to be captured. There was a pejfeot antagonism be- tween the appearance and the fact — the appearance being the as- surance of victory, the fact the certainty of defeat ; and the defeat was brought about by the use of the very weapons on which the disputant relied for success. This the Greeks called elfxaveia. — L. A. 1742. A true sarcasm is like a sword-stick — it appears at first sight to be much more innocent than it really is, till, of a sudden, there leaps something out of it — sharp, and deadly, and incisive, which makes you tremble and recoil. — Sydkby Smith. In polished society the dread of being ridiculous models every word and gesture into propriety, and produces an exquisite atten- tion to the feelings and opinions of others ; it curbs the sallies of eccentricity, it recalls the attention of mankind to one uniform standard of reason and common-sense. — Sydney Smith. Hence, too, the true ludicrous is its own end. When serious satire commences, or satire that is felt as serious, however comi- cally dressed, free and genuine laughter ceases ; it becomes sar- donic. — OOIEBIDGE. Bidioule is not only confined to questions of less moment, but is fitter for refuting error than for supporting truth, for restraining from wrong conduct than for inciting to the practice of what is right. Nor are these the sole restrictions ; it is not properly lev- elled at the false, but at the absurd in tenets ; nor can the edge of ridicule strike with equal force every species of misconduct ; it is not the criminal part "which it attacks, but that which we denom- inate silly or foolish. — CAMPBBiin, i. 59. See also 64, 69. 7. Wit is spontaneous / humor may he cultivated. If you have real wit it will flow spontaneously, and you need not aim at it ; for in that case the rule of the Gospel is reversed, and it shall prove, seek and ye shall not find. — Chesterfield. It does not, however, follow that no study is to be given to the expression of wit. The idea may be an inspiration, but not necessarily at the time of utterance. Oftener it is conceived in solitude, turned and polished in the mind, and Chap. VH.] MISERIES OF A PROFESSIONAL WIT. 129 then held in readiness for a fitting occasion. Only by this habit of perfecting the expression of a happy idea can be acquired the habit of expressing such ideas with precision and pungency when they are struck out in the friction of conversation. "When the idea is thus conceived there ai-e few even of those noted for their wit who do not pause to turn it over once or twice in their minds before giving it utterance. The condition of putting forth ideas in order to be witty oper- ates much in the same salutary manner as the condition of finding rhymes in poetry ; it reduces the number of performers to those who have vigor enough to overcome incipient difficulties, and makes a sort of provision that that which need not be done at all should be done well whenever it is done. For we may ob- serve that mankind are always more fastidious about that which is pleasing than they are about that which is useful. — Sydney Smth. On the other hand, to delve for sparkling sayings, to wrench and distort ideas and words for the sake of being funny, is as futile as it is contemptible. Perpetual aiming at wit is a very bad part of conversation. It is done to support a character ; it generally fails ; it is a sort of in- sult to the company and a restraint on the speaker. — Swift. The source of bad writing is the desire to be something more than a man of sense — the straining to be thought a genius, and it is just the same in speech-making. If men would only say what they have to say in plain terms how much more eloquent they would be. — COLKRIDGE. Hence to be recognized and invited as a witty man in- volves a responsibility and a condition of service few would care to assume. One might as well be asked as a news- paper reporter, or to play the violin for dancing. Soon after the war " Petroleum Y. Nasby " attempted to lecture, and people went to hear him expecting to be amused. The lee- 130 WIT AXD HUMOR DISTINGUISHED. [Pakt II. ture was well enough in its way, but it was a serious dis- cussion of the situation and people felt themselves ag- grieved. People do not look for instruction to those by whom they are accustomed to be amused. "Professed wits, though they are generally courted for the amusement they afford, are seldom respected for the qualities they pos- A witty man is a dramatic performer ; in process of time lie can no more exist without applause than he can exist without air ; if his audience be small, or if they are inattentive, or if a new wit defrauds him of any portion of his admiration, it is all over with him — he sickens and is extinguished. The applauses of the theatre in which he performs are so essential to him that he must obtain them at the expense of decency, friendship, and good feeling. It must be always probable, too, that a mere wit is a person of light and frivolous understanding. His business is not to discover re- lations of ideas that are useful, and have a real influence in life, but to discover the more trifling relations that are only amusing ; he never looks at things with the native eye of common sense, but is always gazing at the world through a Claude Lorraine glass — discovering a thousand appearances which are created only by the instrument of inspection, and covering every object with factitious and unnatural colors. In short, the character of a mere wit it is impossible to consider as very amiable, very respectable, or very safe. — Sydney Smith. Oliver Wendell Holmes informs us that — It is a very serious thing To be a funny man, and most of those who have gained a reputation for wit, or made the acquaintance of one of those preternaturally solemn and funereal-looking individuals whose lives are made miserable by the consciousness that the public looks to them for a diurnal dose of dis- guised physic in the shape of jokes, can corroborate the genial doctor's statement. The responsibility entailed by a reputation for being a perennial font of spontaneous humor is enough to make a man prematurely aged. He must constantly maintain a high water of hilarity, and occasionally surpass himself. Not satisfied with his professional efforts in this line, he is expected to scatter jests around him in his daily walk and con- versation, to write neatly turned epigrams for young ladies' albums, and to scintillate at social entertainments. If be is invited out to dinner, it is a tacit understanding that he shall pay for the meal Chap. VII.] PRACTICAL JOKES. 131 by his humor, and it behooves him to go plentifully provided with a stock of extempore puns and conundrums, to be dispensed at appropriate intervals. If he does not feel up to the mark, his host will probably stir up his flagging energies with the remark that he is unusually dull, or some other pleasing reminder of his breach of the implied contract. A fearful warning against the social perils of a humorist's career is conveyed by the anec- dote of the gentleman who habitually earned his dinner by his wit, and onone occasion of temporary absent-mindedness was recalled to a sense of his duties to society by the following message, delivered in an audible tone by the daughter of the hostess; '*Mam- ma's compliments to Mr. , and she wishes to know when he is going to begin to be funny." — Boston Traveler. PRACTICAL JOKES. We most of, us attempt to be funny only in speech. Mimicry and contortion, the imitation of deformity and the antics of the clown, are usually left to hired performers. Our attempts to be funny are in the direction of the com- edy of knowledge — that is, comedy evolved from the un- expected detection of definite relations — which we call wit ; or of the comedy of ignorance — that is, comedy evolved from a reference to indefinite and indefinable relations — which we call humor. The practical joke is not yet ban- ished, but it is justly looked upon as vulgar and stupid. We may yield to a sudden impulse to pull the chair from behind a person just sitting down, but we are ashamed both of the act and of the disposition that prompts it. Such acts, like a horse-laugh, may show exuberance of ani- mal spirits, but they lower the perpetrator, both in his own esteem and in that of his companions. The actor Sothern was much given to practical jokes. He had once invited a company to dinner, and though one of the intended guests was not present at the hour appointed he insisted upon be- ginning the meal. Presently the belated guest was heard entering the hall. Sothern instantly proposed that the whole company should get under the table. Without an objection, trusting to the actor's wit for some comical climax, the unsuspecting guests hurriedly crawled upon the floor and awaited results, quite unaware that their host had kept his seat and was finishing his soup. The tardy guest was full of apologies. " Don't mention it," 132 PRACTICAL JOKES. [Part 11. said Sothern, "we are only at soup; sit down and be helped." The gentleman did so with a puzzled look at the empty chairs around the table. '*0,"said Sothern, " you miss the other gen- tlemen. They are all here, but for some inexplicable reason the moment you were announced they all crept under the table. What they are doing there is more than I know." It is easier to imagine than to describe the various expressions upon the faces of the victims, as, one by one, they crawled out and resumed their chairs. But it is safe to say they were all cured of participating in practical jokes proposed by Mr. Sothern. An ingenious writer has propounded whathe calls " The Gelatic System," a theory of the history of laughter. a. Pre-humoristic Age. — It is a psychological fact that brutes are devoid of humor, and that savages have a minimum. So evenly did mind and humor keep pace that pnbr to the time men laughed they did not know enough to keep a record of events. This age, then, exactly covered what are known as pre-historic times. b. Bacchanalian Age, — The innate germ of mirth doubtless sprang up under the en- livening influence of wine. The type of this age was drunken silliness, humor of the lowest order. The character of Thersites, in Shakspere's " Troilus and Cressida," is an anachronism, for Thersites could not have been the representative humorist of his time. Though Bacchanalian orgies have always flourished, the epoch of history characterized by them came to an end B.C. 550. 0. Burlesque Age, B.C. 550-4. X*. 476. — Becoming more refined, the people were loath to laugh at themselves, and sought how they might laugh at each other. Hence the rise of comedy, for in comedy the laugh is not at the actor himself, but at the person he rep- resents. The Burlesque Age embraces the three well-known forms of comedy, namely : the Old Comedy (caricature), the Middle Comedy (criticism), and the New Comedy (man- ners). Though G-reece and Rome were the projirietors of comedy, the spirit of burlesque was rife everywhere, even among the Jews. In accordance wi£h the principle of the parallel growth of mind and humor, it will be noticed that the decline of humor at the time of the Empire was exactly proportional to the decline of mental activity, d. Hunchback Age, A.D. 47B-T50. — The barbarians, of course, had very shallow con- ceptions of the ludicrous. The discrepancy in height between a tall and a short man, or any personal deformity,; was enough to capsize the gravity of a king. A dwarf or a hunchback was an indispensable member of a prince's retinue, and a hunchback was a luxury fit for an emperor. c. Idio£ Age, A.D. 750-950. — Mental deformity was discovered to be more comical than physical, and diligent search was made for idiots to add the crowning grace to noble households. First-class idiots were of course reserved for the king. An extra-stupid idiot of superior imbecility and profound obtuseness is said to have lived in the days of Charles the Fat. It is not an interesting period to linger over. f. Clown Age, A.D. 950-1350. — The reign of the natural idiot was followed by that of the artificial idiot, who, though called like his predecessor a fool, was really a keen-witted buffoon. Touchstone, in "As You Like It," and Wamba, son of Witless, in " Ivanhoe," are representative " fools " of this period, when wit began to sparkle as not before since Terence. Traces of the Clown Age are still to be seen in the circus and the pantomime. Chap. VII.] THE GELATIC SYSTEM. 133 g, Mhsguerading Age, A.D. 1350-1500. — ^People now became eager for more fun, and studied how to develop their own creative humor. Humor took a fantflstic turn ; every- body was seized with an imitative Bpirit, and straightway sprang up the idea of a show, in which everybody might select a part and play it to suit himself, the fun being propor- tional to the incongruousness of the action with the character, h. Dinner-Table Age, A.D. 1500-1()25. — The next type of humor was personal ban- tering. Every Falstaffi received standing invitations to dinner, and was welcome at all hours. Clubs were formed whose object was the evolution of jocularity through the me- dium of the flowing bowl, the prototypes of some modern organizations. Royalty itself tried to be witty, as witness the jokes of King James at the expense of Steenie, i. Book Age, A.D. 1625-1850. — Humor was next boiled down and bottled up ready for use in a book. Three varieties are noticeable : aerial, such as the shy, delicate, sen- sitive airiness of Addison, Steele, Groldaoiitb, Hawthorne — often so deliciously coy as to elude laughter ; grotesque, the characteristic variety of a motley crowd, led first by Don Quixote, and afterward by Tom and Jerry ; satiric, which is subdivided into (i) satires on man, like Swift's Gulliver and Byron's Don Juan, and (_ii) satires on men, i.e., not on the way God has seen fit to make man, but on men's errors and foibles. k. Newspaper Age, A.D. 1850. — Though the humorous book is still written, and al- ways will be written, it no longer typifies a historic era. Indeed, remnants of all former ages arc seen to-day. Carousals are common ; the comedian still pries open the mouth ; side-shows exhibit among other wonderful curiosities dwarfs and idiots; hariequin still tickles the ribs ; masqnprades%nd carnivals are still popular, especially in romance coun- tries ; jests pass from lip to lip, and slang, an off-shoot of the Dinner-Table Age, is a weed of luxurious growth : you can sit in solitude and smile at the vagaries of your favorite author ; but the funny newspaper man is supreme. He is the Jupiter o£ the humorous heavens and earth, and every day you can see his lightnings and hear his thunder. DANGERS OP WIT AND HUMOK. " See what a command of language those Irish orators have," remarked some one to Archbishop Whatelj. " See rather what command language has of them," was the reply. Wit, of all powers the most envied and dreaded, be- comes a curse when it forgets its legitimate service as one of man's agencies of usefuhiess. Humor, which lightens every load, illumines every darkness, cheers every lieart, diverts every sorrow, wliich has well been called tlie great lubricator of life, must yet remain subordinate to judgment and duty, or it will prey like a fungus, rotting to the core what it seems only to adorn. For humor is, after all, a view of life that distorts. It may be diverting from its novelty to have a Mark Tapley 134 DANGERS OF WIT AND HUMOR. [Paet II. exult in his master's wretched plights because it makes it creditable to be joUj ; but after all it is better to be wise enough to avoid wretched plights. A view of life that makes our wretchedness less by dwelling on the disadvan- tages of those who are happy will, if carried too far, lead us to underestimate the distance between wretchedness and happiness, and thus remove the spur to ambition. Humor is one of the elements of genius ; but if it predomi- nate it becomes a makeshift. Humor accompanies the decadence of art, which it destroys and annihilates. — Goethb. Especially is it the tendency of humor to break down the distinctions of light and wrong. Is there some one humorific point common to all that can be called humorous ? I am not prepared to answer this fully, even if my time permitted ; but I think there is, and that it consists in a certain reference to the general and the universal, by which the finite great is brought into identity with the little, or the little with the finite great, so as to make both nothing in comparison with the infinite. The little is made great, and the great little, in order to destroy both ; because all is equal in contrast with the in- finite. . . . My devil was to be, like Goethe's, the universal humorist, who should make all things vain and nothing worth by a perpetual collation of the great with the little in the presence of the infinite. — CoiiEEiDGE. If we wish to find a passage from irony to humor we should have to look for it in cases where good-nature assumes the positive attribute of impartiality, because humor is a kind of disposition to adopt the whole of human nature, fuse all its distinctions, tol- erate all its infirmities, and assemble vice and misery to receive rations of good cheer. — Weiss. All this is wrong and harmful. > So far as humor helps US to bear the evils we cannot help it is a blessing ; but let us beware lest it make iis content with imperfections that we might remove, faults that we might cure, apathy CwiP. VII.] PURPOSE vs. ACCOMPLISHMENT. 135 that unnerves us. *In comparison with the infinite, human accomplishment is indeed at higliest but insignificant. But human purpose has all the possibilities of infinitude itself, and man will approach the infinite only as he cleaves fast to moral distinctions. SonTH Mountain, Catskills, September 8, 1867. How broad and beautiful a belt Of landscape doth the eye attain ; The hills and vales together melt Into a low and level plain. Thus men are great and men are small In human eyes ; So puny all, that none look tall Seen from the skies. Yet gleam the colors fresh and bright, The fields are gi-een ; the Hudson blue; The harvests bathe in golden light ; Diamonds sparkle in the dew. So have the acts of humankind Distinctive hue ; Noble frovi base is clear d^ned In highest view. Sydney Smith concludes : " I wish, after all I have said about wit and humor, that I could satisfy myself of their good effects upon the character and disposition ; but I am convinced the probable tendency of both is to corrupt the understanding and the heart." " In cheerful, souls," says Novalis, " there is no wit. Wit is a disturbance of the equipoise." But this is true only where wit and humor have undue predominance. Says Hazlitt, "Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps, for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they ought to be." When the perception of this difference causes laughter alone, humor is indeed corrod- ing. He who can make sport of sins has defective notions 136 WIT AND HUMOR. [Pabt«I. as to their enormity, and leads others to think too lightly of committing them. What more plain nonsense can there be than to be earnest in jest, to be continual in divertisement, or constant in pastime, to make extravagance all our play, and sauce all our diet? Is not this plainly the life of a child that is ever busy yet never hath anything to do ? or the life of that mimical brute which is always active in playing uncouth and unlucky tricks, which, could it speak, might surely pass well for a professed wit ? — Baekow. We see in needleworks and embroideries it is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work upon a lightsome ground ; judge, there- fore, of the pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. — Bacon. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Need of relaxation, p. 93. Theories of the ludicrous, p 93. Hobhes, p. 93 ; Haven, p. 93 ; Hazlitt, p. 94 ; Quintilian, p. 94 ; Sidney, p. 94. Laughter not necessarily scornful, pp. 94^-97. Herbert Spencer's theory, pp. 97-99. Does not account for the pleasure, pp. 99, 100. Aristotle's theory, p. 101. The incongruous and the inconvenient, p. 101. The ludicrous not an absolute relation, p. 103. Sacred subjects not to be trifled with, p. 103. Why the ludicrous gives pleasure, p. 104. The theory of pleasure, 104. Perception of the ludicrous, 105. Not universal, p. 105. Not to be acquired, p. 106. Value not factitious, p. 107. Not to be obtruded, p. 108. Enjoyed in proportion to the difficulty, p. 109. Conventional jokes, p. 110. American humor, pp. 111-113. Chap. VII.] TOPICAL ANALYSIS. 137 Wit and humor distinguished, p. 113. 1. Humor expected, wit unexpected, p. 114. 3. Humor continuous, wit instantaneous, p. 115. 8. Humor may appear in action, wit only in word, p. 116. 4. Wit may be imaginative, humor involves character, p. 116. Puns, p. 117. 5. Humor lies in sentiment, wit in understanding, p. 122. 6. Humor is based on sympathy, wit may be without it, p. 122. Irony, p. 123. 7. Humor may be cultivated, wit is spontaneous, p. 128. Disadvantages of being considered witty, p. 129. Practical jokes, p 181. The Gelatio system, p. 132. Dangers of wit and humor, p. 133. STJGGfBSTIVE QUESTIONS. "What do you think of Sothern's joke (page 131) ? Are the stories on pages 71, 88, 229, and 253, witty or humorous ? CHAPTEK Vin. EGOTISM. Thk pesfc of society is egotists. There are dull and bright, sacred and profane, coarse and fine egotists. 'Tis a disease that, like influenza, falls on all constitutions. In the disease known to physicians as chorea the patient sometimes tnrns round and continues to spin slowly on one spot. Is egotism a metaphysical variety of this malady ? The man runs round a ring formed by his own talent, falls into an admiration of it, and loses rela- tion to the world. It is a tendency in all minds. One of its annoying forms is a craving for sympathy. The sufferers parade their miseries, tear the lint from their bruises, reveal their indictable crimes, that you may pity them. They like sickness, because physical pain will extort some show of interest from the bystanders, as we have seen children who, finding themselves of no account when grown people come in, will cough till they shake to draw attention. — Emebson. In considering the relation to conversation of one's in- dividuality, egotism, which is properly simply the tendency to allude to one's self, should be distinguished from self- conceit and vanity. Self-Conceit denotes a narrow mind and a selfish disposition. It is independent of the opinion of others, at- tributing censure to envy and indifference to lack of per- ception. Hence it is not prompted to do kindly offices in order to win good opinion. It feels no gratitude toward those who bestow f avor^ receiving such attention as a right- ful perquisite. It is incapable of sympathy, of love, of any real fellowship. Nothing so haughty and assuming as ignorance where self- conceit bids it set up for infallible. — South. Vanity is a weakness, but is less selfish. It is depend- ent upon the opinion of others, and is helpless when neg- lected. Hence it will cheerfully make sacrifice for others Chap. VIII.] VANITY. 139 which is likely to secure their good-will. It abounds in gratitude for favors, is quick to sympathize, as eager to love as to be loved, and steadfast in fellowship S9 long as it feels itself appreciated. Infuse vanity into such a man as Goldsmith and it adds a child- like charm to his character ; it gives a tinge of delightful humor to his writings, and enables his friends to love him the more heart- ily because they have the right to pay themselves by a little kindly contempt. Make a Byron vain and half his magnificent force of mind will be wasted by silly efforts to attract the notice of his con- temporaries by attacking their best feelings and affecting (a su- perfluous task) vices which he does not possess. The vanity of a Wordsworth enables him to treat with a profound disdain the sneers of Edinburgh reviewers and the dull indifference of the mass of his readers ; but it encourages him also' to become a, liter- ary sloven, to spoil noble thought by grovelling language, and to subside into supine obstructiveness.* Conversely the vanity of a Pope makes him suffer unspeakable tortures from the stings of critics compared to whom Jeffrey was a giant, condescend to the meanest artifices to catch the applause of his contemporaries, and hunger and thirst for the food which Wordsworth rejected with contempt. But it also enables him to become within his own lim- its the most exquisite of artists in words, to increase in skill as he increased in years, and to coin phrases for a distant posterity even out of the most trifling ebullition of passing spite. The vanity of a Milton excites something approaching to awe. The vanity of a Oongreve excites our rightful contempt. Vanity seems to be at once the source of the greatest weaknesses and of the greatest achievements. To write a history of vanity would be to write the history of the greatest men of our race, for soldiers and states- men have been as vain as poets and artists. Chatham was vain ; Wolfe was vain ; Nelson was childishly vain, and the great Napol- eon was as vain as the vainest. — Cornhitt Magazine. There are some men who need praise as much as flowers need sunshine. You cannot get the best work out of them without it. It is vain to preach to them self-reliance ; they need to be propped * This Bhould be attributed rather to self-coucelt than to vanity. 140 EGOTISM. [Part II. and buttressed by others' opinions — to be braced by encourage- ment and sympathy. "Praise me, Mr. Pope," said Sir Godfrey Kneller to the poet of Twickenham as the latter sat for his por- trait ; "you knoW I can't do as well as I should unless you praise me." Ridiculous as the request may seem, who doubts that the crooked little poet got a better portrait by complying with it ? And when was praise more efficacious, when did it yield a richer harvest, than when bestowed on the sickly poet himself ? Bulwer, in his essay oa "The Efficacy of Praise" in "Caxton- iana," observes that every actor knows how a cold house chills him, and how necessary to the full sustainment of a great part is the thunder of applause. He states that the elder Kean, when he was performing at some theatre in this country, came to the manager when the play wa's half over and said : "I can't go on the stage again, sir, if the pit keeps its hands in its pockets. Such an audience would extinguish JEtiia'." Upon this the manager told the audience that Mr. Kean, not being accustomed to the severe intel- ligence of American citizens, mistook their silent attention for courteous disappointment, and that if they did not applaud Mr. Kean as he was accustomed to be applauded they could not see Mr. Kean act as he was accustomed to act. Of course the audience took the hint, and as their fervor rose so rose the genius of the actor, and their applause contributed to the triumphs it rewarded. — ^Mathews. Reference to One's Self. — So serious a fault is egotism that it is a common precept to avoid all allusion to one's self. " Don't speak of yourself at all," runs the old proverb, " for if you speak ill of yourself people will be- lieve you and despise you for the fact ; and if you speak well they will disbelieve you and despise you for the lie." But it is possible to speak of one's self without such boasting as induces disbelief or such detraction as belittles. No subject of conversation is more natural or more inter- esting. Egotism is to be condemned only when it offends against time and place, as in a history or an epic poem. To censure it in a Chap. Vlll.] EGOTISM SELDOM FRANKNESS. 141 monody or a sonnet is almost as absurd as to complain of a circle for being round. ... If I could judge others by myself I should not hesitate to affirm that the most interesting passages in all writings are those in which a writer develops his own feelings. — Coleridge. Talk About an Imaginary Self. — The fact is, the egotism which society so justly condemns is not talk about one's real self, but talk about a desirable self — not about what we really are, but about what we want our friends to think we are. The egotist more or less con- sciously conceals the real John, and patches up' by hints as to his antecedents, his history, his courage, his probity, his tenderness, his regard from others, an ideal John that shall compel admiration. We feel the contrast when in a moment of delight or discouragement he blunders upon a genuine revelation. So close-locked does every man try to keep the secret of his life that few can resist the tempta- tion to peer in when he opens the lid ; as few have the grace to listen patiently while he describes without open- ing it the wondei-ful things he would like to have us believe it contains. It is in this opening the lid that the charm of frankness consists. To speak without reserve of what most persons conceal indicates a consciousness of general purity of life and integrity of purpose that inspires confidence and prompts to similar avowal. Dr. Johnson, paying court to Mrs. Porter, told her plainly that he was of mean extraction, that he had no money, and that one of his uncles had been hanged. She as frankly replied that she had no more money than he, and that though none of her relatives ever had been hanged she had several who ought to be. The desire to please, to shine with a particularly engaging lus- tre, to draw a fascinating picture of one's self, banishes from con- versation all that is sterling and most of what is humorous. As soon as a strong current of mutual admiration begins to flow the human interest triumphs entirely over the intellectual, and 142 EGOTISM. [Part II. the commerce of words, consciously or not, becomes secondary to the commercing of eyes. Each simply waits iipon the other to be admired, and the talk dwindles into platitudinous piping. — Corn- hill Magazine. Frank Self-revealment Interesting. — It is sel- dom that we are indifferent to genuine confession, but it is very seldom that we hear it. The egotist does not always eulogize himself directly. He may make you father-confessor and acknowledge to you a fault or habit that is exceedingly dishonorable to him — " he cannot help it ; it is his way." 'Perhaps he has resolved at all hazards to take a promi- nent part in conversation, even though it be at the expense of his character and the comfort of the company. Else he talks of his faults in order to demonstrate his sincerity or some other virtue. " He is none of your dissemblers ; he must tell you all." Another confesses his crimes on purpose to show us his shrewdness, tact, or courage in committing them, in escaping detection or punish- ment ; or the generosity or high-mindedness with which he made amends for them ; thus does he glory in his shame.— Hebvey. Egotism not Eradicated by Silence. — Egotism cannot be overcome or concealed by abstaining from men- tion of self. The writers of Port Royal were so disgusted with the predominance of the pronoun / in contemporary writings that they uniformly shunned it as savoring of self-conceit. But it is not the use of this pronoun that betrays the egotist — it is the feeling that prompts its ut- terance, as betrayed by the connection and the tone. A false humility, or, in the world's parlance, a false modesty, is as criminal and offensive as pride, for it is that pride in disguise. Pride may not prompt the frequent use of the pronoun ; on the other hand, egotism in the first degree is often pei-petrated when there is a careful avoidance of it ; and in general he who makes a show of great pains to keep aloof from a fault does thereby declare that he knows himself to be addicted to it. Some of the vainest of mortals are often heard to say, " without boastiog," " I do not Chap. VIII.] SELF-ASSERTION. l4S like to praise mysell," "Pardon me for speaking of myself." Again there are very humble characters who may use this kind of apologetical phrases. Let us beware of words ; nothing is more common than to be misled by them.-^HJEBVEY. All great men not only know their business, but they usually know that they know it, and are not only right in their main opin- ions, but they usually know that they are right in them ; only they don't think much of themselves on that account. Arnolfo knows that he can build a good dome at Florence ; Albert Darer writes calmly to one who had found fault with his work, "It cannot be better done." Sir Isaac Newton knows that he has worked out a problem or two that would have puzzled anybody else ; only they do not expect their fellow-men therefore to fall down and worship them. They have a curious undersense of jjowerlessness, feeling that the greatness is not in them but through them ; that they could not be any other thing than God made them. And they see something divine and God-made in every other man they meet, and they are endlessly, foolishly, and incredibly merciful. — Edskin. The difficulty is to be certain that this positiveness of statement has the warrant of genius behind it. Mr. Euskin himself has used much language that only very great assurance in his own judgment could warrant. Thus in reply to some one who objected to the contempt with which he had spoken of such men as John Stuart Mill and Goldwin Smith, Complaining that the disciples of sach men are " hurt and made angry when words they do not like are used of their leaders," he answered : " Well, my dear sir, I solemnly believe that the less they like it the better my work has been done, for you will find if you think deeply of it that the chieE of all the curses of this unhappy age is the univerpal babble of its fools and of the flocks that follow them, rendering the quiet voices of the wise men of all past time inaudible. This is, first, the result of the invention of printing, and of the easy power and extreme pleasure to vain persons of seeing themselves in print. When it took a twelve-month's hard work to make a single volume legible men considered a little the difference between one book and an- other ; but now when not only anybody can get themselves made legible through any quantity of volumes in a week, but the doing so becomes a means of living to them, and they can fill their stomachs with the foolish foam of their lips, the nniversal pestilence of falsehood fi Is the mind of the world as cicadas do olive-leaves, and the first necessity of our moral government is to extricate from among the insectile noise the few books and words that are divine. And this has been my main work from my youth up — not caring to speak my own words, but to discern, whether in painting or scripture, what is eternally good and vital, and to strike away from it pitilessly what is worthless and venomous. So that now, being old and thoroughly practised in this trade, I know either of a picture, a 144 EGOTISM. [Pakt IL book, or a speecli quite securely, whether it is good or not, as a cheesemouger knows cheese, and I have not the least mind to try to make wise men out of fools, or silk purses out of sows' ears ; but my one swift business is to brand them of base quality and get them out of the way, and I do nob care a cobweb's weight whether I hurt the followers of these men or not^ — totally ignoring them and caring only to get the facts concerning the men themselves fairly rounded and stated for the people whom I have real power to teach. And for qualification of statement there is neither time nor need. Of course there are few writers capable of obtaining any public attention who hfive not some day or other said something rational ; and many of the foolishest of them are the amiablest, and have all sorts of minor qualities of most recommendable character — propriety of dic- tion, suavity of temper, benevolence of disposition, wide acquaintance with literature, and what not. But the one thing I have to assert concerning them is that they are men of eternally worthless intellectual quality, who never ought to have spoken a word in this world, or to have been heard in it out of their family circles ; and whose books are merely so much floating fog-bank, which the first breath of Bound public health and sense will blow back into its native ditches forever." " There are some great men," says Coleridge, " wlio, actually flatter themselves that they abhor all egotism, and never betray it in their writings or discourse. But watch them narrowly, and in the greater number of cases you will find their thoughts and feelings and mode ^f ex- pression saturated with the passion of contcnvpt, which is the concent/rated vinegar of egotismp The same author makes frequent reference to diseased forms of egotism, whibh seemed to him a fascinating study. For instance : There is one species of egotism which is truly disgusting ; not that which leads us to communicate our feeling to others, but that which would reduce the feelings of others to an identity with our own. — Preface to Poetical Works. For some mighty good sort of people too there is not seldom a sort of solemn saturnine, or, if you will, ursine vanity, that keeps itself alive by sucking the paws of its own self-importance. And as this high sense, or rather sensation, of their own value is for the most part grotinded on negative qualities, so- they have no bet- ter means of preserving the same but by negatives — that is, by not doing or saying anything that might be put down for fond, silly, or nonsensical : or (to use their own phrase) by never forgetting themselves, which some of their acquaintances are uncharitable enough to think the most worthless object they could be employed in remembering. — Tlie Improvisatare. Chap. Vlll.] RETICENCE. 145 Silence does not always mark wisdom. I was at dinner, some time ago, in company with a man who listened to me and said nothing for a long time ; but he nodded his head, and I thought him intelligent. At length, toward the end of the dinner, some apple-dumplings were placed on the table, and my man had no sooner seen them than he burst forth with — " Them's the jockeys for me." I wish Spurzheim could have examined his head. — Table Talk. Query, whether Coleridge would have been so ready to assume the man's intelligence if he had shahen his head. Talk of One's Self an Introduction to Con- versation. — Between strangers a frank and easy ref- erence to one's own purposes and tastes is among the easiest approaches to conversation. A lady by mentioning her own movements or arrangements, or by referring to any matter connected with herself and family, if not of too private a nature, gives a lead or opening to her visitor, and affords an opportunity for her to take up the thread of the dis- course, and to carry it into wider channels, far beyond the range of the operas, the theatres, or the weather. And in proportion as the conversation diverges into friendly or domestic talk, so do the two ladies become more at ease with each other, gaining in a short time a clear insight into each other's characters and pur- suits.^ — Society Small Talk. It is often assumed that reticence commands respect. It is in vain to point out that the silent fool often passes for a man of wit, because the fool who has wit enough to know this and act accordingly is not properly a fool. Were he a fool he would not keep silence. The negroes attribute this wisdom to the chim- panzee, who, they say, is a man, but will not speak lest he should be made to work. Silent people get through the world as well as their talkative neighbors ; every one talks for them ; their nod is interpreted where another man would have to make a speech ; and every one is willing to excuse them as the sailor excused his parrot, for, if they do not speak, they think the more. Foote, the actor, boasted 146 EGOtlSM. [Part It* of his horse that it could stand still faster than some horses could trot ; and the silent man is often enabled, by the value attached to his rare utterances, to say more by his silence than a voluble talker by a string of phrases. — Saturday Review. Is it true that people of reserved disposition are so often misunderstood as they are supposed to be ? It seems to nie that certain persons of a frank and impulsive temper are quite as apt to be misinterpreted. The common eiTor of giving reserved persons in- sufficient credit for feeling, because of their lack of demonstration, is an error into which only the duller sort of observers fall ; but keener-sighted ones often make the oppo- site mistake, and cherish tlie belief that the less the display the fuller and deeper its sources must be. This is far from being invariably the truth. It appears to me that if reserved folk are misconceived it is in a manner favorable to their character and intel- lect, and whatever opinions may be expressed about them' are commonly accompanied with the acknowledgment th.at they are opinions only, for wheii a man is not outspoken about himself we may hold what notion we choope about him ; but we cannot help knowing that the notion is something of our own construction, based on no real knowl- edge. On the other hand, when a person is in the habit o£ talking freely, is not chaiy of his opinion and even reveals something of his personal tastes, habits, and feelings, it is natural enough for those who hear him to suppose themselves capable of estimating him. Yet this very frankness is what misleads ; we are not aware how much is kept back by these apparently communicative people — much that might modify or alter our notions of them. They show us a good deal of themselves and we think we know all ; they have a need of venting themselves and begin to speak their thoughts aloud ; yet they are sometimes very sensitive to misconception or possible ridicule, and at the slightest suspicion of either hasten to shut the half -opened door of their hearts and with- draw their real selves from our view. An impulsive person is generally impressionable and easily affected by the personality of others; consciously or unconsciously he adapts himself to those he is in contact with, and shows to different persona different sides of himself, so that if an opinion were asked for, no two of his acquaintance, perhaps, would agree in their impressions. Of course he is himself to each and all, but not the whole of himself. Reserve sometimes proceeds from a shy and timid sensitiveness, which makes no appeal for appreciation and sympathy, not daring to run the risk of meeting coldness and rebuff; but reserved persons, as a rule, enjoy a most comfortable self -poise and in- dependence of the good or ill opinion of others. It is the persons of frank, impulsive temperament who are the real unfortunates ; they go through a good deal of experience before they learn the wisdom of keeping themselves to themselves, and after learning it are sometimes unlucky enough to forget it at the wrong maxsMSiUt.— Atlantic Monthly. SUGGESTIONS. Applying to this subject the general principle of con- versation that our first object slionld be to entertain our companion, not to exalt ourselves, we observe : 1. Reference to One^s Self Should Never he Obtruded. — To boast of one's position, connections, achievements, Chap. VIII.] &tJGGBSTlONS. 14? sentiments is to lower by comparison the corresponding poss.essions of our comrade, and thus to render him un- comfortable. It is for this reason that a vaunting tale so often elicits from the hearer a story yet more marvellous, so that boasting leads to lying. The discomfort is LeigMened as the thing exulted in is beyond the reach of one's companion. To boast of health in presence of an invalid, of strength to a cripple, of wealth to a pauper, of edu- cation to the illiterate, of social distinction to those who get no in- vitations, is as stupid as it is unkind, for whatever grudging ac- knowledgment may be granted the fact, is lost in resentment at the lack of consideration. A man with more money than manners paused to talk with a laborer hoeing in his garden. " Well, Pat," he began, " it's good to be rich, isn't it ? " " Yis, sorr." " I am rich, veiy rich, Pat." " Yis, son-." " I own lands, and houses, and bonds, and stocks, and — and — and — " "Yis, sorr." "And what. is there, Pat, that I haven't got ? " " Not a spick o' since, sorr ; " and shouldering his hoe Pat marched off in search of a less conceited employer. On the other hand, no i-eluctance should be shown in coming forward M'hen we can add to the pleasure of others. One must trust to his judgment to determine when he can contribute most to the general enjoyment by remaining in the back -ground and when by taking the lead. A moderate musician, in whom it would be intolerable conceit to play "before a cultured audience, may add intensely to the en- joyment of a country farm-house, and would show as much egot- ism in declining to play in the lasfcter case as he would in offer- ing to play in the former. There may be times when he knows himself unfitted to appear and yet where the demand that he shall 148 EGOTISM. [Part 11. do so is so persistent that it is less egotistical for him to accept and do the best he can, knowing he must fail, than to delay the entei-tainment of the company while his hostess, injudiciously kind, refuses to yield to his protests. T^his is one of the instances where one is called upon deliberately to sacrifice one's self and to accept the unjust verdict of pretension, because to inflict poor music upon a company for five minutes will annoy them less than to listen for half an hour to one's reason for not trying. In all such cases the man who systematically regards -not his own pleasure or reputation, but the gratification of the company, will seldom go astray. If oc- casionally misunderstood, eventually his unselfishness will be rec- ognized. 2. Statements of Fact Should he Rigorously Accurate. — In the popular mind exaggeration is so associated with boasting that in referring to ourselves we should be care- ful rather to diminish than to enlarge the statements of fact. So alert is the listener to detect exaggeration that he is quite likely some time to compare the fact with our statement of it. To iind that we have claimed less than was really true will gratify him the more because this so seldom happens, while to discover that even in unessential particulars we have rounded out the narrative will inspire mistrust of all we have said. Many persons acquire a gay habit of merry boasting, or of hu- morous gasconading — so called from the Gascons, a brave and tal- ented people, who, however, utterly destroy all respect for their real merit by their habits of vaunting. He who would avoid vanity should have absolutely nothing to do with it — not even to bur- lesque it. Self is our most insidious foe, and he who boasts in fun will soon find earnest thoughts gliding into the current of his jests. In short, avoid everything which may suggest, however re- motely, to those with whom you converse the suspicion that you think of the effect you produce. — Art of Conversation. • 3. Reference to One's Self Should Cease the Moment It Becomes TFeariso»ie.— rThere are persons so ill-bred as to Chap. Till.] CONFIDENTIAL SELF-KEVEAIMBNT. 149 persist in asking questions about one's private affairs and who yet, when one in sheer good nature begins to answer, relapse into dreamy indifference. There are others who by any reference to one's self are instantly stimulated to in- terrupt by corresponding reminiscences and confessions. There are frequent occasions when one has been led, wisely or weakly, into self-revealment, and suddenly discovers that what he says is heard reluctantly. No rule is more imperative than that such reference to one's self should in- stantly cease, not only out of regard to the wishes of one's companion, but out of respect for one's own dignity. There are no inoments in life more precious than when one talks with a tried friend of his life within. But such talk should be only between tried friends, and only in mo- ments of confidence and sympathy. It is not to Harry Foker that Guy Warrington tells his story, but to Arthur Pendennis, and to Arthur Pendennis only when a crisis in his life makes the story solemn to him. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Distinguished from self-conceit and vanity, p. 138. Reference to one's self natural and interesting, p. 140. But disagreeable when to an imaginary self, p. 141. Egotism not eradicated by silence, p. 143. Talk of one's self an easy introduction to conversation, p. 145. SUGGESTIONS. Reference to one's self should never be obtruded, p. 146. Statements of fact should be rigidly accurate, p. 148. Reference to one's self should- cease as soon as wearisome, p. 148. 150 TOPICAL ANALYSIS. [Part IL SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS. Do you agree with Coleridge (page 131) ? Do you think the writer in the AUantic Monihly (page 146) right or wrong in thinking those of frank and impulsiTe temper as apt to be misunderstood as those of reserved disposition ? What do you think of the following paragraph ? ' ' Moralists are fond of vaguely advising people to ' he themselves ' and of assuring them that all is well so Ibng as a man dares to be his own true self. The value of this counsel, of course, entirely depends on the sort of self with which each person happens to be endowed. Socrates, who knew a good deal about his own character, asserted that if he had been true to himself he would have been one of the greatest scoundrels in an age peculiarly fertile in unredeemed blackguards." CHAPTER IX. ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION. On whatever subject and for whatever purpose a mau speaks to his £ellow-men, they will never listen to him with interest unless they can hear what he says ; and that without effort. If his utterance is rapid and indistinct, no weight of his sentiments, no strength or smoothness of voice, no excellence of modulation, emphasis, or cadence, will enable him to speak so as to be heard with pleasure. — Pobteb. A sensible man has one mode of articulation, and one only, namely : always to pro- nounce his words in such a manner as to be readily understood, but never in such a man- ner as to excite remark. — Legouve. Definitions. — ArtiGulation is proper utterance of vo- cal elements. Pronunciation signifies utterance of words, that is, of combinations of vocal elements. Distinctness is a general habit of the voice, belonging to all its sounds, articulate or inarticulate, being not mere correctness, but a sort of compactness of utterance. A good articulation consists in giving every letter in a syllable its due proportion of sound, according to the most approved cus- tom of pronouncing it ; and in making such a distinction between the syllables of which words are composed, that the ear shall, with- out difficulty, acknowledge their number, and perceive at once to which syllable each letter belongs. — Shebidan. In just articulation, the words are not to be hurried over ; nor precipitated syllable over syllable ; nor, as it were, melted together into a mass of confusion. They should be neither abridged nor prolonged nor swallowed nor forced ; they should not be trailed nor drawled nor let slip out carelessly, so as to drop unfinished. They are to be delivered out from the lips as beautiful coins, newly issued from the mint, deeply and accurately impressed-, per- fectly finished, neatly struck out by the proper organs, distinct, in due succession, and of due weight. — Attstin's Chironomica. 152 ARTICULATION. [Part II. It had an odd, promiscuous tone, As if he liad talked three parts in one ; Which made some think, when he did gabble, They heard three laborers of Babel, Or Cerberus himself pronounce A leash of languages at once. — Butleb. Conversational speech is, in general, very slovenly. Oonld it bfe written down exactly as we hear it, the speaker would not recog- nize the unintelligible jargon. Thus : Convsashnlspeech zngenlveslovnly. This is not an exaggeration of the kind of utterance that passes current in social life. The chief element of distant audibility — throat-sound, or voice — is so curtailed and slurred out, that little more than mouth-actions remain. The very reverse must be the relation of throat to mouth in or- atorical speech. Consonants may be softened to any degree, but vowels must be given fully and with swelling clearness. Thus : cOnvEbsAshUnAii spEEoh Is In gEnEbAii vEbT slO- vEnlY. BELli. A speaker may possess a very intelligent apprehension of the pronunciation of words, and he may vei-y perspicuously show this to his hearers by marking in some degree the proper points for accentuation which occur in the words which he utters. But if there be any natural or acquired defect in the organs of speech ; for instance, if the voice be exceedingly unmanageable, or if the palate should be gone, a person in this condition, although he may indicate by a very feeble and imperfect accentuation of words that he possesses a due apprehension of the necessity of that qual ity in speaking, yet he cannot, owing to his poverty in the blessing of sound, give out the different syllables in the words which he ut- ters with a distinct intonation ; he cannot yield to each syllable and letter in the composition of a word that due degree of weight which will mark with distinctness and precision the divisions which exist in them, just as the transient pauses which occur be- tween the notes delivered from a bell of a glassy intonation repeat the distincter existence of each sound which falls from it upon the ear. It may be said of a person whose voice does not come to the Chap. IX.] IMPORTANCE, AND DIFFICFLTIES. 153 aid of his understanding in the pronunciation of words, that he is a correct pronounoer, but not a perfect or just articulator, just as it may be said of a performer on the violin, who is a perfect mas- ter of the science but not of the sounds of music, that he is a cor- rect but not a distinct musician. — McQtjben. Importance of Articulation. — A good articula- tion is to the ear what a fair hand-writing or a fair type is to the eye. Who has not felt the perplexity of supplying a word torn away by the seal of a letter ; or a dozen syl- lables of a book in as many lines, cut off by the careless- ness of a binder ? The same inconvenience is felt from a similar omission in spoken language ; with this additional disadvantage, that we are not at liberty to stop and spell out the meaning by construction. ... A man of indis- tinct utterance 2'eads this sentence : " The magistrates ought to prove a declaration so publicly made." "When I perceive that his habit is to strike only the accented sylla- ble clearly, sliding over others, I do not know whether it is meant that they ought to prove the declaration, or to ap- prove it, or reprove it, — for in either case he would speak only the syllable prove. Kor do I know whether the mag- istrates ought to do it, or the magistrate sought to do it. POETER. Difficulties of Articulation. — I. The first and chief diflBculty lies in the fact that articulation consists es- sentially in the consonant sounds, and that many of these are difficult of utterance. . . . It is evident to the slightest observation that the open vowels are uttered with ease and strength. On these public criers swell their notes to so great a compass. II. A second difficulty arises from the immediate suc- cession of the same or similar sounds. 154 ARTICULATION. [Part II. Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone. Tho' oft the ear the open vowels tire. The hosts still stood. The battle lasts still. Wastes and deserts — Waste sand deserts. To obtain either— To obtain neither. His cry moved me — His crime moved me. He could pay nobody— He could pain nobody. In the last example, gramma'r forbids a pause between pain and nobody, while orthoepy demands one. But change the structure so as to render a pause proper after pain, and the difficulty vanishes : — thus, Though he en- dured great pain, nobody pitied him. ■ A serious man was never before guilty of such a series of fol- lies ; in which every species of absurdity was accompanied by a specious gravity. The duke paid the money due to the Jew before the dew was 'ofif the ground; and the Jew, having duly acknowledged it, said- adieu to the duke forever. III. A third difficulty arises from the influence of ac- cent. The importance which this stress attaches to sylla- bles on which it falls compels them to be spoken in a more full and deliberate manner than others. Hence if the re- currence of this stress is too close, it occasions heaviness in utterance ; if too remote, indistincitness. And ten low words oft creep in one dull line. Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone. Communicatively, authoritatively, terrestrial, reasonableness, disinterestedness. IV. A fourth difficulty arises from a tendency of the organs to slide over unaccented vowels. — Poetee. See the quotation from Bell, on page 152. Chap. IX.] SPECIAL DIFFICULTIES. 155 Cautions in Articulation. — I. In aiming to form a distinct articulation, take care not to form one that is measiu'ed and mechanical. Something of preciseness is very apt to appear at first, . . . but practice and perse- verance will enable us to combine ease and fluency with clearness of utterance. The child, in passing from his spelling nianner is ambitious to become a swift reader, and thus -falls into a confusion of organs that is to be cured only by retracing the steps which produced it. The rem- edy, however, is no better than the fault, if it runs into, a scan-ning, pe-dan-tic for-mal-i-ty, giving undue stress to particles and unaccented syllables ; thus, " Pie is the man of all the world whom I rejoice to meet." II. Let the close of sentences be spoken clearly, with suf- ficient strength and on the proper pitch to bring out the meaning completely. No part of a sentence is so impor- tant as the close, both in respect to sense and harmony. III. Ascertain your own defects of articulation by the aid of some friend, and then devote a short time, statedly and daily, to correct them. — Porter. Special Difficulties. — I. Consonants. When a child says "turn" for "come," and "tin" for "king," the correct articulation will be induced almost at the first trial by the simple expedient of holding down the forepart of the tongue ■with the finger. The effort to imitate the general effect will then force the back part of the tongue into action ; and in a few days at most, the child will, without any assistance, form A;, g, and ng, where before it could only utter t, d, and n. The "shut" consonants (p, t, k, b, d, g,) are the jnost easily acquired, and children consequently pronounce p instead of the more diflcult /, and t instead of th. A few moments devoted to amusing exercise will conquer this difficulty. Thus, tell the child to bite his lower Up, and blow, and he wiU form a tolerable / at puce ; or to bite his tongue and blow, and a passable th will be 156 ARTICULATION. [Pakt II. the result. The sounds of s and sh are often for a long time con- founded ; also those of s and th. The sound of s will be obtained from th by drawing back — or, if assistance is needed, by pushing back — the tip of the tongue till it is free from the teeth. The teeth require to be very close for s, but there will be room to in- sert the edge of a paper-cutter to play the tongue into position. — Bell. The lower classes pf the French Canadians habitually confound the mutes k and t, in certain combinations, and say "mekier," "moiki6," for "m6tier," "moiti6." The double forms nuncius and nuntius and the like show that the Romans did the same thing, if, as has been supposed, their c had always the force of k. An extmordinary instance of this particular confusion occurs in the remarks on pronunciation prefixed to Webster's large Dictionary, printed in 1828. In that essay the lexicographer, whose most conspicu- ous defects were certainly not those of the ear, after having devoted a lifetime to the study of English orthoepy and etymology, informs the student that "the letters ci, answering to kl^ are pronounced as if written tl; ciear, cZean, are pronounced Zfear, tle&n. Gl is pronounced dl ; glory is pronounced dZory." — Marsh. II. Sow to roll one's ?■',<(. The two letters d and t, formed at the end of the tongue, are easily and naturally pronounced by everybody. Talma's idea was to pronounce these two letters rapidly and alternately ; as, du tu du tu, etc. Then by degrees joining r to them, he pronounced the new combination also rapidly and alternately, dru tru dru tru, etc. By this contrivance it struck him that he could fish up the letter r from the depths of the throat, where it seemed to prefer keeping itself ; that he could compel it, as it were, to answer the call of its companions inviting it out to the dance. Imagine a young girl — excuse the oddness of the comparison — a timid,' shrinking young girl, hiding herself in a comer of the ball-room, but called out by her companions, who drag her forcibly and mer- rily into the middle of the circling throng. Soon, however, one friend slips away, then another, and another, so that at last our modest, timid, shy last-comer finds herself unconsciously dancing, and dancing well, without the protection of any participating com- panions. That is exactly what Talma did. He first dropped the d and then the t ; instead of saying dru tru dru tru, he said ru ru ru ru, and kept on doing this so persistently that at last the r, hav- ing been well-accustomed to vibrate with the others, had no diffi- culty in vibrating all a}one. — lipopuvl;. Chap. IX.] SPECIAL DIFFICULTIES. 157 III. The Italian A. It may here be pertinently remarked that the pronunciation of a in such words as glass, last, father, and pastor, is a test of high culture. The tendency among uncultivated persons is to give a either the thick, throaty sound of au which I have endeavored to describe, or, oftenest, to give it the thin, flat sound which it has in an, at, and anato7nt/. Next to that tone of voice which, it would seem, is not to be acquired by any striving in adult years, and which indicates breeding rather than education, the full, free, un- conscious utterance of the broad ah sound of a is the surest indi- cation in speech of social culture which began at the cradle. — EicHAED Gbant "White. TV. The Letter H. 'Twas whispered in heaven, 'twas muttered in heli. And echo caught faintly the Bound as it fell ; On the confines of earth 'twas permitted to rest, And the depths of the ocean its presence confest ; 'Twill be found in the sphere when 'tie riven asunder, Be seen in the lightning and heard in the thunder ; 'Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath, Attends at his birth, and awaits him at death ; Presides o'er his happiness, honors, and health ; Is the prop of his house and the end of his wealth. In the heaps of Lhe miser 'tis hoarded with care, But is sure to be lost with his prodigal heir ; It begins every hope, every wish it must bound ; With the husbandman toils; with the monarch is crowned. Without it the soldier, the sailor may roani, But woe to the wretch who expels it from home ! In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found, Nor e'en in the whirlwind of papsion be drowned. 'Twill soften the heart ; though deaf be the ear, 'Twill make it acutely and instantly hear ; But in shade let it rest like a delicate flower ; Oh I breathe on it softly — It dies in an hour. — Cathabine Fanshawe. The only four words in the EngKsh language beginning with h and not aspirated are, Aowr, ^e^V, honest and hono7% with their deri- vations. Hostler is often written ostler, but when it begins with h, it should be aspirated, as are "host," "hostelry," and "hotel." Sometimes " herb " and *' humble " are not aspirated. We do as- 158 ABTICULATION. tPAKT 11. pirate "herbal," "herbarium," and "herbivorous." Humble should be aspirated. Moore wrote his line : " A heart that is humble might hope for it here," in order to confound the cockneys, and so did Mrs. Crawford her' line : " The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill." In Punch, the cockney says : "The best cure for the cholera is the open hair ; I do not mean the air of the ead, but the hair of the hatmosphere." A bit of London Fun .• " Have you any fresh eggs ? " " Yes, mum, plenty ; them with the hen on 'em ! " " With the hen on them?" "Yes, mum, we always puts a hen on our fresh eggs, to distinguish of 'em. Beg pardon, mum, don't think you under- stand. Hen, the letter, not 'en, the bird. Hen, for noo-laid, mum. Take a dozen, m.um ? Thank you ! " V. Nasal Tones. The soft palate which hangs at the back of the mouth acts as a valve on the passage to the nose. When the top of the soft palate is arched backward from its point of junction with the hard pal- ate, it covers the internal nasal aperture, and the breath passes altogether through the mouth. When the soft palate is relaxed and pendent fi'om the edge of the hard palate, the breath passes partly through the nose and partly through the mouth ; and when the mouth-passage is closed (by means of the back of the tongue, as in ng, the forepart of the tongue, as in n, or the lips, as in «i,) the breath passes altogether by the nose. A knowledge of these facts will enable any person to correct the habit of nasalizing - vowels. The chief diificulty lies in the recognition by the ear of pure oral and mixed nasal quality. The action of the soft palate may, however, be seen, by opening the mouth very wide in pronouncing the vowels ah and aw. Then, by pressing on the top of the soft palate with the thumb, or with the india-rubber end of a pencil, the internal nasal aperture will be covered, and the utterance of ah and aw will be purely oral. Eepeat these vowels with and without the mechanical pressure, and after a few experiments the Chap. IX.] LEGOTJV:fi'S INFALLIBLE RULE 159 ear -will distinguisli the difference between oral and nasal. Prac- tice on other vowels, in forming which the soft palate cannot be seen, will soon develop a feeling of the difference. But the readiest way to gain a perception of the denasalizing action of the soft palate will be by the following exercise : Sound the consonants m h without separating the lips, as in pronouncing the word ember. The change from m to b is nothing more than the covering of the nasal aperture by the soft palate ; and the change from 6 to ot without separating the lips, as in the word submit, is merely the uncovering of the nasal aperture. — Bell. Legouv^'s Infallible Rule On the clearness of our pronunciation depends the clearness of our discourse. In fact too much cannot be said of good pronun- ciation. It is the main point in our delivery ; on it depends the very life of our words. The consonants are the solid framework of the word ; they are its bones. From the consonants we can reconstruct the word it- self, just as Ouvier used to reconstruct the animals. It is the intimate union between the vowels and the consonants that constitutes pronunciation. There is no such thing as pro- nouncing a consonant by itself, and even the vowel, though it forms the sound that we emit, does not form the word that we pronounce. As to the consonants, the art of pronouncing them perfectly is the art of articulating them perfectly. There is no art more use- ful, but it is one that is by no means easy of acquirement. Few people possess from nature perfect powers of articulation. With some it is too strong, with others too weak, with many in- distinct. These defects can be remedied by systematic labor, and by tliat alone. How ? you naturally ask. Well, here is one way, very ingenious and effective, and yet extremely simple and emi- nently practicable. You wish, let us suppose, to confide a secret to a friend ; but you are afraid of being overheard, the door being open, and some- body listening in the next room. What would you do ? Walk up to your friend and whisper the secret into his ear ? Not at alL 160 ARTICULATION. [Pakt II. You might be caught in the act, and so excite suspicion. What should you do ? I will tell you, and in doing so I will quote the exact words of that master of masters, Eegnier : "You face your friend exactly, and pronouncing your words distinctly, but in an underbreath, you commission your articula- tions to convey them to your friend's eyes rather than his ears, for he is as carefully watching how you speak as he is intently listen- ing to what you say. Articulation here, having a double duty to perform, that of sound as well as its own peculiar function, is com- pelled as it were to dwell strongly on each syllable so as to land it safely within the intelligence of your hearer." This is an infallible means of correcting all the defects and faults of your articulation. It is at once an exercise and a test ; if you do not articulate well, your friend will not understand you. After a very few months' steady practice at this exercise for a few hours a day, you will find that your most obdurate articulatory muscles become flexible as well as strong, that they rise elastically and respond harmoniously to every movement of the thought and to every difficulty of the pronunciation. — Lbgouvi:. Practice in Articulation. — Begin at the end of a line, sentence, or paragraph, so as to prevent the possibil- ity of reading negligently ; then (1) articulate every ele- ment in every word, separately and very distinctly, throughout the line or sentence ; (2) enunciate every sylla- ble of every word throughout the line or sentence clearly and exactly ; (3) pronounce every word in the same style ; (4) read the line or sentence from the beginning forward, with strict attention to the manner of pronouncing every word ; (5) read the whole line or sentence with an easy, fluent enunciation, paying strict attention to the expres- sion of the meaning, but without losing correctness in the style of pronunciation. — Murdoch. Exercises.— Beef-broth, three-sixths, literally literary, knitting-needle, quit quickly, such a sash, puff up the fop, a velvet weaver, a cut of Chap. IX.] EXERCISES. 161 pumpkin, a knapsack strap, coop up the cook, a school coal-scut- tle, veal and white mne Tinegar, geese cackle and cattle low, cooks crow and crows caw, a shocking sottish set, she sells sea- shells, cloud-capped, laurel-wreath, linen lining, a comic mimic, rural railroad, Scotch thatch, statistics of sects, portly poultry, a wet white wafer, pick pepper peacock, I snuff shop snuff. — Bell. AmidBb the miBts and coldest frosts, With barest wrists and stoutest lloasts, He thruBtB his fists against the posts, And still insists he seeB the ghosts. Crazy Craycrof t caught a crate of crickled crabs ; A crate of crickled crabs Crazy Craycroft caught. If Crazy Craycroft caught a crate of crickled crabs, Where's the crate of crickled crabs Crazy Craycroft caught ? Thou wreathed'st and muzzled'st the far-fetched ox, and im- prisoned'st him in the volcanic Mexican mountain of Pop-o-cat-e- pet-1, in Co-to-pax-i. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers ; a peck of jjickled peppers Peter Piper picked. If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked ? Thou waft'd'st the rickety staff over the mountain-height cliffs, and clearly saw'st the full-orb'd moon. when a twister twisting, would twist him a twist, For twisting a twist three twists he will twist, But if one of the twists untwists from the twist, The twist untwisting untwists the twist. Robert Rowley rolled a round roll round ; a round roll Robert Rowley rolled round. Where rolled the round roll Robert Row- ley rolled round ? Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle-sifter, in sifting a sieveful of tliistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb. Peter Prangle, the prickly-pear picker, picked three pecks of prickly prangly pears from the prangly pear-trees on the pleas- ant prairies. Bhoes and socks shock Susan. 162 ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION. [Pakt IL PRONUNCIATION. Pronunciation is made up of articulation and ac- centuation ; when both are perfect, the individual has a correct and elegant pronunciation. — Yahdenhoff. Lord Ohatham kept a dictionary constantly within Ms reach (1) to insure to every word he tittered in debate a pronunciation of incontestable accuracy, and (2) to enable him to select those words which would best express the idea he wished to convey. Standards of Pronunciation. — Walker recom- mends that the analogies and tendencies of the language should be studied, as the best guides in orthoepy. He has justly censured Dr. Johnson's general rule, that "those are to be considered as the most elegant speakers who de- viate least from the written words." If the learned lexi- cographer's principle were adopted, what strange changes in pronunciation would be required in reading the follow- ing sentences, in which none of the words printed in ital- ics are sounded according to the spelling : The common usage of English' people in talking their native tongue proves that they do not trouble themselves as to the spelling of the words. It surely is an evil custom, and savors of affectation to talk otherwise than their fathers, mothers, brothers, and relations have talked. If the professors of colleges and other places of educa- ticni would give their attention to the principles of English pronun- ciation, they would see reason not to sanction the fashion of pro- nouncing many common words in unusual ways — sounding the final syllables exactly as they are spelled in evil, devil, heaven, leaven, heathen, even, reason, season, beacon, deacon, often, softly, etc., etc. — • PliTJMPTBE. Dictionary Authority. — "When two or more pro- nunciations of a given word have equal authority, choice may be made between them on the grounds of analogy, derivation, perspicuity, and euphony ; but as a general Chap. IX.] THE STANDARD TO FOLLOW. 163 rule the pronunciation of words should be determined by the dictionaries in commonest use, the compilers of which are quite as capable as the young student of weighing the various considerations which should lead to the preference of one pronunciation over another. How impossible it is to adopt any other standard than recog- nized authority is shown by the following instances of the changes in the pronunciation of words produced by adding a single letter. B makes a road broad, turns the ear into a bear, and Tom into a tomb. makes limb climb, hanged changed, a lever clever, and trans- ports a lover to clover. D turns a bear to beard, a crow to a crowd, and makes anger danger. F turns lower regions to flower regions. G changes a son to song, and makes one gone. H changes eight into height. K makes now know, and eyed keyed. L transforms a pear into a pearl. N turns a line into linen, a crow to a crown, and makes one none. P metamorphoses lumber into plumber. S turns even into seven, makes have shave, and word a sword, a pear a spear, makes slaughter of laughter, and curiously changes having -a hoe into shaving a shoe. T makes a bough bought, turns here into there, alters one to tone, changes ether to tether, and transforms the phrase " allow his own" into " tallow this town." W does well : e.g. , hose are whose ? are becomes ware, on won, omen women, so sow, vie view, an arm becomes warm, and a hat is turned into — what ? Y turns fur to fury, a man to many, to to toy, a rub to a ruby, ours to yours, and a lad to a lady. — Pattbbson. The Unpardonable Error in pronunciation is ob- trusively to pronounce differently a word which has just been uttered. 164 PRONUNCIATION. [Pabt 1L Among intimate friends discussion of each other's verbal errors may by agreement become pleasant and profitable. But one should not venture to take this liberty with a stranger or with older people ; for, I. There is no subject upon which persons are generally more sensitive than upon their use of language. Even scholars become acrimonious when their opinions on this subject are disputed, as witness the books of Eichard Grrant White, Fitzedward Hall, Dean Alford, G. Washington Moon, and others. The explanation of this peculiar bitterness seems to be that one's use of language depends upon his early associations, his "bringing up," so to speak ; and hence to insinuate that one is unacquainted with pre- vailing usage in speech, is to imply that one is also unacquainted with prevailing usage in manners — in other words, that he is no gentleman. II. So widely do authorities differ, that one must be a profound student of orthoepy to feel secure in asserting that the pronuncia- tion he hears is wrong. Take the inaid. pronunciation, itself. Webster gives "pronun- shiashun," without hint of other us'age, and one who had con- sulted only this dictionary might feel that any other pronuncia- tion was erroneous. But Perry, Knowles, Smart, Craig, Oooley, Cull, and Wright aU prefer "pronunseashun," while Sheridan makes it "pronunshashun." Plumptre, in his King's College Lectures on Elocution, says : " The "fioxd. pronunciation is smoother when the c is proijounced as s, not as sh, and the word pronounced as if written pronunsea- shon, not pronunsheashon. The repetition of the hissing sound of the sh is unpleasant." In face of this authority, while one has the right to prefer the sh sound, he would simply obtrude his ignorance if he called the s pronunciation wrong. The general rule should be, whenever one hears a word pronounced in an unaccustomed way, by a per- son likely to know about it, immediately to look it up in the best authorities at hand, so as to assure one's self about it. But if, as often happens, the person seems to be wrong, one need not cor- rect him. The object of observing the pronunciation of others is to fcorreot, not their usage but our own. That labor is well ,^ Chap. IX.] THE UNPARDONABLE ERROR. 165 bestowed wliiclx makes us sure ttat we can pronounce correctly the words we use. Biit correct pronunciation is a means, not an end. To be able to report of an eloquent sermon only that the preacher said na-tional instead of nash-onal, betrays the most in- sufferable pedantry. A man asljed whether he would have his fish briled, replied that he didn't care whether it was briled or biled, providing it was not spiled. "Mr. Kemble," said George III., "will you obleege me with a pinch of your snuff?" "With pleasure, your Majesty; but it would become your royal lips better to say oblige." — Gbaham. Here it may be doubted whether the actor was following the usage of the day more acciu-ately than the king. Marsh says : " Oblige, for instance, in its complimentary sense, is a word recently introduced from France ; for this is a meaning unknown to Shakspere, and as a word of ceremonial phraseology it was first pronounced obleege, but it is now almost uniformly ar- ticulated with the English sound of i long." Proper Names. — Names of persons and places de- pend for their pronunciation wholly upon local usage. The only caution to be observed is that where well-known geographical names have a recognized English as well as a local pronunciation, the former should be employed. One would make himself ridiculous by talking of Paree and JBoberleen. Indeed, a strict conformity to the native pronunciation of names belonging to languages whose orthographical system differs much from our own, is considered an offensive affectation, and a great British or'ator, who was as familiar with French as with English, is said to have been so scrupulous on this point that in his parlia- mentary speeches he habitually spoke of an important French port as Bordeaua;. — Marsh. Exercises. — Of late years unusual attention has been given to words usually mispronounced. Among the col- locatiops of such words strung together into a sort of con- 166 ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION. [Part II. nection, the following will be found xiseful, few persons being able to read them through without a blunder. A sacrilegious son of Belial, who suffered from bronchitis, hav- ing exhausted his finances, in order to make good the deficit re- solved to ally himself to a comely, lenient, and docile young lady of the Malay or Caucasian race. He accordingly purchased a cal- liope and coral necklace of a chameleon hue, and, securing a suite of rooms at a principal hotel, he engaged the head waiter as his coadjutor. He then dispatched a letter of the most unexceptiona- ble calligraphy extant, inviting the young lady to a matinee. She revolted at the idea, refused to consider herself sacrificeable to his desires, and sent a polite note of refusal, on receiving which he procured a carbine and a bowie-knife, said that he would not now forge fetters hymeneal with the queen, went to an isolated spot, severed his jugular vein, and discharged the contents of his car- bine into his abdomen. The dfibris was removed by the coroner. An Indian, attracted by the aroma of the coffee and the broth arising from the bivouac, moving down the path met a bombastic bravo who was troubled with the bronchitis. The Indian being in deshabille, was treated with disdain by this -blackguard, who called him a dog, and bade him with much vehemence and contumely to leave his domain, or he would demonstrate by his carbine the use of a coffin and cemetery. The Indian calmly surveyed the dimen- sions of his European opponent, and being sagacious and robust, and having all the combativeness of a combatant, shot this ruffian in the abdomen with an arrow. A young patriot with a black moustache, coming from the mu- seum, laughingly said, " Bravo ! you should be nationally re- warded by receiving the right of franchise, for I witnessed the al- tercation, and the evidence is irrefragable and indisputable that you have removed a nauseous reptile. I now make this inquiry- will not the matrons in this country, and the patrons of our schools, inaugurate some system that will give an impetus to the interesting study of our language ? If half the leisure moments were thus spent in lieu of reading some despicable romance, we should be wiser than we are," TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Definitions, p. 151. Articulation, p. 153. Importance of articulation, p. 153. Difficulties of articulation. I. Difficulty of uttering consonant sounds, p. 153. II. Succession of similar sounds, p. 153. III. Influence of accent, p. 154. IV. Tendency to slide over unaccented vowels, p. 154. Cautions in articulation. I. Do not form a measured and mechanical articulation, p. 155. II. Importance of the close of sentences, p. 155. III. Ascertain defects, p. 155. • Special difficulties, p. 155. I. Consonants, p. 155. II. How to roll one's r's, p. 156. III. The Italian A, p. 157. IV. The letter H, p. 157. V. Nasal tones, p. 158. Legouv^'s infallible rule, p. 159. Practice in articulation, p. 160. Exercises, p. 160. Pronunciation, p. 162. Standards of pronunciation, p. 162. Dictionary authority, p. 163. The unpardonable error, p. 163. ♦ Proper names, p. 165. Exercises, p. 165. PART III. LETTER. WRITING PART III. LETTER-WBITIJVG. CHAPTER X. KINDS OF LETTERS. The post is the grand connecting link of all transactions, of all negotiations. Those who are absent by its means become present; it is the consolation of life. — Voltaibe. A Letter is a written communication from one person to another. An early settler had occasion to send an Indian to a neighbor upon an errand, and scribbled his communication upon a chip. Observing that the neighbor upon looking at the chip knew the errand upon which the Indian was sent, the Indian regarded the chip with reverence, and thereafter wore it as an amulet, calling it " the talking chip." A Circular Letter, under guise of a personal communication, is yet written avowedly for publication. Criticisms, editorial arti- cles, even entire novels are sometimes written in the form of let- ters ; but the letter proper is a communication intended only for the person or persons addressed. Kinds of Letters. — Letters are usually (1) of Friendship, (2) of Courtesy, (3) of business, (4) to JVews- pa/pers. 172 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Pabt III. i. Letters of Friendship. — Few duties are more imperative than to send frequent letters to near kindred from wliom we are separated. The ties of family are ab- solute ; the son, the daughter, the sister, the brother, who are insensible to these ties, who do not recognize and ac- cept them as binding, start in life with a serious defect in their natures, and with an almost insurmountable obstacle to the attainment of true manhood and womanhood. These relations are not only the first into which one enters, but they involve all that is fundamental in character. The circumstances are very rare that will excuse the young man or woman for any neglect of love and loyalty to par- ents and to brothers and sisters. Yet as the members of a family separate to enter each bis indi- vidual path in life, it too often happens that they grow away from one another. Each forms new associations, has new friends, new thoughts, new ideas. On special occasions the members of the family meet, are glad to see each other, enjoy one another so long as they feel interested in recalling old times or in satisfying their curiosity as to the material facts of each other's new surroundings. But when it comes to real conversation, to the interchange of pre- dominant thoughts, to the real problems of the daily life of each, every meeting finds the play-fellows of boyhood more and more strangers in maturity. There remain respect, confidence, love which every year seems more and more traditional ; but of the communion, the mutual help of those early days, less and less is left ; the relation is rather of a tribe than of a family. To some extent this mental separation is inevitable, but it may be partly escaped by frequent and familiar correspondence. The boy at college who writes every week to his mother of all that has most interested him, will avoid some things that otherwise might make him reluctant to meet that mother's glance. The young man who has just come from a farm to the city, will seem less a stranger to his little brothers and sisters when he returns for vaca- tion, and will find his interest in the familiar scenes of boyhood far less diminished, if his letters home have been regular and full- Chap. X] LETTERS OF FRIENDSHIP. 173 hearted. The members of an affectionate family, all of whom are good letter-writers, will never grow very far apart. It is therefore important that the habit of interchanging letters when separated should be an early and an accepted one. The boy's first visit away from home should inspire his first letter home. The girl at school should look upon every incident as an " item " for her next letter. When, one by one, the elder children leave their home altogether, it should be no slight element of their pur- poses for the future, that there shall be a weekly letter to the old folks at home. This practice will naturally be extended to scliool-mates and other intimate friends. In youth the heart is exuber- ant, the senses are keen, the mind is active, and the hands are comparatively unoccupied. There are hours of mus- ing, of contemplation, of reflection, of recalling events just past, when the enjoyment and the profit are doubled if one can share one's thoughts with an absent friend. If such a correspondence be frank, unassuming; and free from gush- ing sentimentality, it is an unsurpassed means of literary culture. What to Write. — But what shall these letters con- tain ? Yerdant Green's friend Bouncer wrote regularly to his mother, and he wrote long letters, that contained a great deal of information. But his plan was to begin : " My dear mother, I hope you are well, as I am at this writing, and I should like a little money, as my expenses are very heavy. I will now resume my description of Ox- ford from the point where we last left off." Whereupon he proceeded to copy from the local guide-book as much as would fill the prescribed number of pages. This style of composition was not fitted to promote a very confidential intimacy with his mother, or to lead on his part to any pronounced mental development ; but after all it was a fair type of 174 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Part III. mucli family correspondence. A letter wliicb is hali occupied witli remarking that "I now take my pen in hand to write you a few words,'' and half with regretting that "I haven't any news to tell, but close, assuring you that I am well and hope this epistle will find you in the enjoyment of the same blessing," is not adapted to do much more than discharge a disagreeable duty in a disagree- able way. But surely members of the same family need never pad out four pages of commercial note with common-places. The Great Mistake in writing friendly letters is to suppose that only the marvellous is worth writing about. It is the incidents of every-day life, the characteristic little acts and speeches of the members of the household, that one longs to hear about when away. The great events are told in the newspapers, but only the letter can so depict the minntise of home-life as to put the reader back for the moment among the friends he has left behind. " I am going to make a sort of promise to myself and to you," writes Mary Lamb to her that was afterward Mrs. Hazlitt, " that I will write you kind of journal-like letters of the daily what-we-do matters. " SPECIMENS OP FAMILY LETTERS. Samuel Johnson to his Younger Sisters. Mt Dear Girls : , 1 am ready to cry at not hearing from you. What are you doing ? Are you not going to let me into any of your little pleasures or plans ? My heart bounds with yours in your pleasant hopes, and my eye will see all beautiful things as though it were yours. Do let the words you would speak in your happiest moments, in all their freshness and liveliness, take the form of letters, and pass into my heart as though I were with you. And so I am with you where you call me. What shall I tell you of ? Mowers, birds, woods, walks, true, loving, sincere books— what ? They are all around me here, and they are so deep in my love, and you seem so present to me, that I cannot describe them ; for it seems as though you knew how they looked as well as I. Tell me how you imagine things look about me. Little Susan R comes to my room every now and then early in the morning, to get me to go to ride with her mother. But I must see you in a letter soon, or I shall be miserable. Your own, & Chap. 5C.J LETTERS OF FRIENDSHIP. 1^5 '' Margaret Fuller OssoWa Last Letter. Florence, May 14, 1850. Deab Motheb: I will believe I shall be welcome with my treasures— my husband and child. For me, I long BO much to see you I Should anything hinder our meeting on earth, think of your daughter as one who always wished, at least, to do her duty, and who always cherished you, according as her mind opened to discover excellence. Give dear love, too, to my brothers ; and first, to my eldest, faithiul friend, Eugene; a sister's love to Ellen ; love to all my kind, good aunts, and to my dear cousin E . God bless them ! I hope we shall be able to pass some time together, yet, in this world. But if God de- crees otherwise — here and hereafter, my dearest mother, Your loving child, Ma BG ABET. William Kenry to hia Orandmother, Mt Dear Grandmotheb : I guess you'll think 'tis funny getting another letter again from me so soon, but Tm in a hurry to have my father send me some money to have my skates mended ; ask him if he won't please to send me thirty-three cents ; and we two have made up again, and I thought you would like to know. It had been most three days, and we hadn't been any* Where together, or spoken hardly, and I hadn't looked him in the eye, or he me. Old Monder Bry he wanted to keep round me all the time, and have double-runner together. He knew we two hadn't been such chums as we used to be, so he came up to me and said, * '-Billy, I think that Dorry's a mean sort of a chap, don't you ? '' "No, I don't," I said ; "he don't know what 'tis to be mean I " For I wasn't going to have him coming any Jersey over me I ** O, you needn't be so spunky about it I " says he, "I ain't spunky ! " says I. Then I. went into the school-room to study over my Latin Grammar before school began, and sat down amongst the boys that were all crowding round the stove. And I was studying away, and didn't mind 'em fooling round me, for I'd lost one mark day be- fore, and didn't mean to lose any more, for you know what my father promised me, if my next report improved much. And while I was sitting there, studying away, and drying my feet, for we'd been having darings, and W. B he stumped me to jump on a place where 'twas cracking, and I went in over tops of boots and wet my feet sopping wet. And I didn't notice at first, for I wasn't looking round much, but looking straight down on my Latin Grammar, and didn't notice that 'most all the boys had gone out. Only about half a dozen left, and one of 'em was Dorry, and he sat to the right of me, about a yard off, studying his lesson. Then another boy went out, and then another, and by-and-by every one of them was gone, and left us two sitting there. O, we sat just as still I I kept my head down, and we made believe think of nothing but just the lesson. First thing I knew he moved, and I looked up, and there was Dorry looking me right in the eye 1 and held out his hand. *' How are you, sweet William ? " saye he, and laughed some. Then I clapped my hand on his shoulder, " Old Dorrymas, how are you?" says T. And so you see, we got over it then, right away. Dorry says he wasn't asleep that morning when I stood there, only making believe. Said he wished I'd pull, then he was going to pull too; and wouldn't that been a funny way to make up, pulling hair? He's had a letter from Tom Cush, and he'w got home, but is going away again, for he means to be a regular sailor and get to be captain of a great ship. He'd coming here next week. I hope you won't forget that thirty-three. I'd just 176 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Part III. as lives have fifty, and that would come better in the letter, don't you believe it would ? That photograph saloon has just gone by, and the boys are running down the road to chase it. When Dorry and I sat there by the stove, it made me remember what uncle Jacob said about our picture. Your affectionate grandson, William Hehet. ii. Letters of Courtesy. — The line between letters of friendship and of courtesy cannot be drawn arbitrarily, since intimacy may clothe a note required by courtesy in a garb wholly unconventional. But, in general, it may be said that while letters of friendship originate in the im- pulse or habit of the writer, and depend for their form and nature upon his mood, letters of courtesy are demand- ed by the customs of society, not only at a particular time, but also of a particular character. a. Invitation. — Formal notes of invitation should be simple, direct, and definite. are the following : Among the accepted forms wl e/uei-c/a^ (bvenm^, ^mie 20, ^^§S, o cCocA Q£i. a^c/ qSu. (Ma^d (^S. d^mt;ed. (/fiW/le yoU lo 'meet tnetA, ncece, QMtM ^aoMt'e/ Q/oumAend, \ci'n Qriiday (Ovent/n^, at 6^ o cwck. 2^7 Saa '^Sene^ise (^ Chap. X.] LETTERS OF COURTESY. 177 Q£i. one/ Q£u. Momlaitr—" Keply, please.") The following forms will be a sufficient guide : Q/edauHc/i i /una iMmiaiocm, /oi Q/aed-acm (bvent^a. a Mevtou4 enaaae- 'men^ miM aeMtA^e nei oJ fne h/6ciMc4,& a/ acce^iitna Q/aif'nAena on Q/iceA-da/u (bv&ncna. c. Congratulation and Condolence. — Tidings of joy or bereavement require, from intimate friends at least, brief notes of sympathy. No form of correspondence affords a happier opportunity for revealing true friendship. He who can so put himself in the other's place as to know just what will most gratefully touch that other's heart, will win a place in -that other's affection not easily at- tained. To Novello, who had just lost a favorite child, Leigh Hunt wrote : July — , 1820. This comes from Leigh Hunt, merely to say that he thinks of his friend Vincent Novello, and to hope that, when he has vented his first natural feehngs on the death of one so dear to him, he will think of others to whom he himself is dear, and let them see him as soon again and as cheerful again as possible. Ohap. X] LETTERS OF COURTESY. 179 d. Introduction and Recommendation. — Persons of influence are overwhelmed with requests for letters of introduction and recommendation. So to phrase these letters as to satisfy the one applying, without exceed- ing the truth, or guaranteeing that of which one has no certainty, is no easy task. Caution in Giving References. — Sanguine or unscrupu- lous persons sometimes give references to prominent per- sons whose permission they have not asked, in the hope either that the one they hope to influence will be satisfled by the name, without applying for information ; or that if information is asked, a good-humored report will be given. This is neither honorable nor wise. The following letter was received by a Western board of educa- tion, from a gentleman to whom a candidate for the oflSce of Super- intendent had " referred : " " Dear Sir : Your letter of the 8th places me in a delicate posi- tion. I cannot say anything good of Mr. , and I do not wish to say anything bad of him which will prevent his leaving the State. I must therefore decline to express any opinion. YoTU's truly, ." Letter introducing Mr. Audubon to Lewis Cass. FHlLADBliPHlA, September 30, 1833. My Dear Governor : I do not know when I have done a more acceptable service to my feelings, nor when I have been just in a situation to afford as much gratification to yours, as in presenting to your notice, and private and official friendship, the bearer, Mr. Audubon. It were superfluous to tell you who he is ; the whole world knows him and respects him, and no man in it has the heart to cherish or the head to appreciate him, and such a man, be- yond the capacity of yourself. Mr. Audubon makes no more of tracking it in all directions over this, and I may add, other countries, than a shot-star does in crossing the heavens. He goes after winged things, but sometimes needs the aid of at least a few feathers, to assist him the better to fly. He means to coast it again round Florida — make a track through Arkansas — go up the Missouri — pass on to the Rocky Mountains, and theuce to the Pacific. He will 180 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Pakt III. require some of your offlcial aid. I took an unmerited liberty with your name and' readi- ness of purpose, and told him you were the very man, and I need not say how happy I shall bo to learn that you have endorsed my promise and ratified it. God bless you. In haste, To the Hon. Lewis Cas.?, Thos. L. McKennet. Secretary of War, Washington City, Hi. Letters of Business. — It has been well said that the form of a business letter is best when it most clearly and quickly answers three questions : 1. Where is this letter from ? 2. Whom is it from ? 3. What does he want ? Business letters from purchasers may be divided into three classes : a. Letters of Inquiry, b. Orders, c. Remittances. a. Letters of Inquiry. — Miss Anna Louise Jones, teach- ing in the village of Centreville, Onondaga County, lias some trouble with the parents of one of her pupils, and wants to inform herself as to her legal I'ights as a teacher. She remembers ■ having seen a small book called School Law, or something like that, which is probably just what she wants ; she thinks it is published in Syracuse, and pre- sumes it is one of the School Bulletin Publications. She is not quite sure what the firm-name of the publishers is, but she thinks it is David Barden & Co., or something like that. There is nobody at hand from whom she can get fuller information. How shall she write her letter ? If she is like many teachers we know, she will do it as fol- lows : 'uoit na/ve Qfcnoac ^£iiw and now- 'nuc-cn ej- il Chap. X.] BUSINESS LETTERS. Outside she will address the envelope : 181 ^avic/ ^a^(/&n ^ ^o 'yt,actiie CEITICISM8. (1) To begin with the envelope, for unless that is properly ad- dressed it makes no difference how the letter is written ; it will never reach the person addressed. For want of proper direction fifteen thousand letters a day are sent to the Dead Letter Office. Money is delayed or lost, appointments are missed, orders are un- filled, important tidings are withheld — all because addresses are not complete and distinct. Now if Miss Jones were absolutely certain that the firm-name was Bavid Burden & Co., it would be necessary only to write that name distinctly, with the name of the city and State, as it rarely happens that two firms in the same place have precisely the same address. But Miss Jones is by no means certain, and in fact she is en- tirely wrong. The firm-name as she saw it was Davis, Bardeen & Co., and it has since become C W. Bardeen. The envelope as ad- dressed is quite unlikely to reach its destination. What should she have done ? She should have made use of two facts she knew, (1) that the firm were publishers ; and (2) that their books were known as The School Bulletin Publications. These facts she should have indica- ted upon the envelope, as corrections to any error she might have made. If she was much in doubt about the la,tter fact, she might have put after that line a (?). Thus : 182 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Pakt in. M^am'c^ McUc/en /^... ^ic^UideU, (M^lacMe, QA^. ¥ Qycnooi ,^uMefin ^u/uoaii(md- f^Py 1 That letter -woiild reach its destination, in spite of the error in the name. The general principle to be impressed as to super- scriptions is this : If you are in doubt as to the exact address, add any particulars you happen to know that may assist the postmaster in determining whom, you mean. In particular, put on the business, and the street and number, whenever you know them or can easily ascertain them. This will almost absolutely prevent blunders, not only from errors of the writer, but from errors of the postman. When envelopes were ad- dressed to Davis, Bardeen & Co. , that firm frequently got letters ad- dressed to Darius Baldwin, a capitalist boarding at the Burns Ho- tel. More than once these letters, opened carelessly with the rest of' a mail, contained drafts for large amounts, — once for some five thou- sand dollars. One dislikes to have one's mail go thus astray, no matter into whose hands it may fall, and these letters would have ■gone to him straight if, instead of being addressed ; they had been addressed : Chap. X.] BUSINESS LETTERS. 183 (2) Suppose the firm had got the letter, it would still have been useless to Miss Jones, because she does not give her post-office ad- dress. She heads the letter "Oentreville," but Centreville is the name only of the milage where she lives ; the post-office is Plank Boad. An answer to that letter would be directed to Centreville, Allegany Co., N. Y., and as it would be simply a marked price-list under a one-cent stamp, it would not be returned, and it would be supposed that Miss Jones had received it. If she had appended her address to her signature, or if, forgetting that the post-office was different, she had yet added the county, the firm would have known the post-office, and this error would have been avoided. Large firms always have quite an amount in small sums credited to people who have sent money and signed their letters, but have omitted to name their post-offices. Sometimes the post-office is named and the letter unsigned. In that case the letter may be re- turned to the postmaster, who discovers the writer by posting up the letter, or some such means, if he does not recognize the hand- writing. But when the post-office is not given and the'name is strange, it is simply impossible to answer the letter in any way. The principle involved is so simple that to reiterate it seems like reminding a young lady to wash her face. And yet we must impress it as very important to every one who writes a business letter, to look it over before sending, and ie sure the post-office ad- dress is given in full. (3) Even if the firm had known her post-office, it is doubtful if a reply would have reached Miss Jones, for her signature is usually recognized as the signature of a man : and unless the hand-writing were unmistakably feminine (and that means a great deal; very little hand-writing is unmistakably either male or female), the firm would address the reply to Q^. S£. /ones. Most post-offices have a men's delivery and a women's delivery, and this envelope would be put into the men's delivery pigeon- 184 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Past III. hole. When Miss Jones called for her letter the postmaster would look for it in the women's delivery, and would not find it. The best way for Miss Jones to sign her name is But if for any reason she does not wish to give more than hei initials, she should either subscribe herself or, if she dislikes to do this, she should append to the letter : t)nan daaa, Wo. Ql'^.f. Indeed the last form has many advantages over any other, and is the least liable to mistakes of any kind. But the principle in- volved is : Unless the address is elsewhere given in full, an unmar- ried lady's signature should indicate her. sex, either by vyriting one given name in full, or hy prefixing (Miss) ; and a married lady's signature should be prefixed by (Mrs.). (4) If all these corrections had been made in Miss Jones's let- ter, she would have got the information desired, for she would have received a circular with description and price of Common School Law for Commmi School Teachers. But the firm would still have felt somewhat uncertain as to whether that was just what she wanted, as the abrupt questions she asks might refer to the new Code of Public Instruction, of which the price is three dollars. If the firm knew the writer to be a woman, it might judge that she was a teacher, and that the Common School Law would cover all Chap. X.] BUSINESS LETTERS. 185 points in which, she was likely to be interested. But if the writer was supposed to be a man, he might be a trustee, and the question might be as to district boundaries, or the collection of taxes, as to which the Common School Law has nothing to say. So when Miss Jones was so uncertain as to the title of the book, she would have done well to state what she wanted it for, and to give some idea as to its size and appearance. She happened to hit so near the title, that the firm publishing the book would re- cognize it ; but the letter would have been unintelligible to the larger New York book houses. Jut into proper shape and written with courtesy, Miss Jones's letter might have read : iemeie d^een^ ^al ^e^ u^nal aie tne teaac icanld- chf teacne'U^ ed/iectoMu mnen any aiiStc^^ed^ a/l{4-6 tmln M/ 'uoU'j a/na at a?iu late Q/ /ileiftme you can teti •me a^ottfif. Q// next' can /aint4n (t^ avid tmCi ii'^iife 'me umat m,e Mice U^ Q/ umode'na /ol t( at once. ^U'U ied-AectfaiMi^ ©Stina ^. Joned: wie c& not/ a daMa/i, &6?td ine t^ooK, UaM au^au 1S6 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Part III. 5. OrdeTs. — Miss Jones, getting a marked circular which gives tlie name and price of the book, decides to order it. She follows precedents if she puts a silver half-dollar into the following letter : CBITICISMS. (1.) In the first place, her letter containing the silver half-dollar comes with *'Dde Two Cents" on it. A half-dollar weighs 192.9 grains, while a half-onnce contains only 218.75 grains, leav- ing twenty-five grains for the writing-paper, envelope, and the sheet of brown paper in which the half-dollar is wrapped. Please don't send silver in letters : bnt if yon do, be sure to prepay all the postage. Yet there is a worse fault thaa to send silver not fully prepaid, or oven postage-stamps, which many firms refuse. That is, to send a check for a small amount on a local bank. Some persons afCect this way of sending money, partly because it saves them from the risk of loss in the mails, partly because it saves trouble, and partly because it showe that they keep a bank account. But it costs the firm receiving it from ten to twenty-five cents to collect it, and though a firm may submit to the imposition, it will not feel kindly toward the person who attempts it. A check before us, sent from Syracuse to Dawn, Ohio, bears upon the back the following endorsements : (1} " Pay to order of Shelley & Merts, A. P. Southwicfc " ; (2) '* Pay to order of Frames, Kumich & Co., Shelley & Merts" ; (S) Pay to the order of G-. B. Harmau, Cash, Frames, Kumich &, Co." ; (4) " Pay D. Clarke or order, for collection, account of City National Bank, Dayton, Ohio, G. B. Harman, Cashier" ; (5) "For collection, account American Exchange B'k, New York, D. Clarke, Cashier''; (6) " The Robert Gere Bank, Syracuse, N. Y., July 24, 1883, Paid" ; (7) " State Bank, Syracuse, July 24, 1B83, C23." All these endorsements preceded the collection of the check. Of course, the money was returned through as many hands and after several days' delay. In other words, this check passed through the hands of six banks, every one oC which had to make a record of it. Suppose it was for fifty cents, or any small amount you may be sure every bank clerk that entered the name of the maker of the check would curl his lip with contempt for his ignorance of business principles. IE one keeps a bank-account one can get from a bank a draft on a New York bank which will be good anywhere for Chap. X.] BUSINESS LETTBES. 187 its face-value. But to send away from home a check on a local bank for less than ten dollars is to presume unwarrantably upon the good-nature of every person who has to (2. ) In the Second place, the letter being unregistered was very likely to be stolen. It costs ten cents to register a letter, and that seems a heavy rate of insurance to pay on fifty cents. Yet the let- ter containing money should be registered every time, unless the money is sent as a draft or a money-order. Think how many hands a letter passes through before it reaches its destination, and every hand feels that half dollar — a skilful hand would feel a bill, however carefully inserted. It is impossible for business firms to hold themselves responsible for money sent in unregistered letters, and they absolutely refuse to do so. So long as a ten-cent postage stamp will secure perfect safety, customers must blame themselves if they lose their remittances by failing to register their letters. In fact the new forms of money-orders, and the express money- orders recently introduced, make the expense still less, so that small sums may be sent safely, even for a fee of three cents. (3.) But if the firm has received the money, and if it credit it as fifty cents (though it really brings in only foi-ty-eight), what is it to send ? ' ' The book ! " If Miss Jones were an only oon-espond- ent, or if the firm published but one book, this might be easy. But most firms publish many books, and such letters of inquiry as Miss Jones's, come in by scores. On receipt of such a letter as that, a clerk would go back over the coiTespondence of the past few days and hunt up Miss Jones's first letter. Probably he would send her the book she wanted, but only after wasting a half-hour to atone for her negligence. B®" Every business letter should he complete in itself. Having ascertained the name and price of the book she wanted. Miss Jones should have ordered it as though there had been no previous correspondence. In fact the letter would usually go to a wholly different clerk, who would have no occasion to know that any other letter had been received. (4.) To say, " Send the book right away" is absolute tautology. Of course a business house fills orders promptly as a matter of routine, and regards a request like that as simple evidence of inex- perience. Missing Page Missing Page 190 KINDS OF LETTERS. [Past 111. AH this would have been avoided had Miss Jones written : &'i'i^ 0/ li-ena enotosect -rmyneu-o-iaei /oi^ cms (/oUa4,^ /(? hay me mm JU, me ^eaeni i- ^aUMn/?na/i, wna i^eii umton Q/ iecetv-ecl 'ueA^eiaau. Q/nanAifia 'ucm /ai 6^6n,aMia <^i ufitnoa^ waitma /oi me ■?nan»}/j Qy a/m^ ^H. After Roman numerals, p. 25d. - c. To denote omission in a quotation, p 259. 7. Three periods for part of sentence ; for more, four or more, p. 259. d. Before decimals, p. 259. 8. If the number be less than a unit, the word should be singnlar, p. ^9. III. An Apostrophe must be used— a. To indicate possessive case, p. 259. 9. All but plural nouns in s take apos- trophe and 8, p. 260. Note. — Barnes' or Barnes's, p, 260. 10. Exceptions to rule as to s, p, 261. 11. Not used in ours, yours, etc., p. 961. b. To denote plural of figures and letters, p. 261. . 12. This usage occasionally extends to words, p, 261. V, To denote elision — i. Of letters in a word, p. 961. 13, EliaioiiJ^ distinguished from ab- breviations, p. 961. ii. Of syllables, or words, p. 961. 14. Space usually left between two words made one, p. 261. iii. Of the century in dates, p. 962. IV. A Hyphen must be used — a. In compound words, p. 962, 15, Which are compound words ? p, 262. b. At end of a line, when a word is divided, p. 263, ] 6, Division only by syllables, p. 963. c. To unite prefixes, p. 263, 17, The diaeresis sometimes used, p. 263. V. Quotation Marks must be used — a. To enclose an exact quotation, p, 263. 18, Not for indirect quoDation, p. 264, 19, Sometimes omitted, when quotation ends sentence, p. 964, 20, Repeated before each of several paragraphs, p. 264. 21, Other punctuation marks enclosed ? p. 264. 22, Quotation within quotation, p, 264. 23, Omitt;ri in paragraphs, p. 265. 34. Foreign quotations in italics, with- out quotation marks, p, 265. b. Usually, to enclo-e titles of books, p. 965, VI. The Dash must be used — a. At breaking-off of sentence, p. 965. b. To indicate epigrammatic conclusion, p. 266. c. To show omission of letters, p. 266. d- To show hesitation, etc., p, 266. e. To separate speeches in a dialogue, p. 267. ■f. To separate title from matter, p, 267. g. Between extremes of a series, p. 267. VII. The Comma must be used — a. To set off vocative expressions, p, 267. 25. Exclamation Point required, p. 268. b. To separate similar words, p. 268. i. "When not connected by conjunctions, ALWAYS, p. 268. 26. Adjoining adjectives not always in same constract'on, p. 268, 27. Commas required after as well as before, p. 268. I*. When word is repeated for emphasis, p. 968. p. When words are subjects of verb, p. 269. ii. When connected by conjunctions, ONLY, p. 969, It. When more than two. 28, Comma should precede last conjunction, p. 269, 29. When needed in a connect- ed series, p. 27U. j3. When one word has qualifiers be- longing to it alone, p. 27U. y. When words are craphatically distinguished, p, 270, c > Tp separate pairs of words joined by con- junctions, p, 270, d. To set off phrases in apposition, p. 270. 30. Sometimes dash required to show apposition, p, 271. 31. No comma required where apposi- tion is restrictive, p, 271. 33. General titles when modified require coTnma, p. 971. e. To set off parenthetical remarks, p. 971. i. The comma is used, p. 271, 33. Comma improper when phrase is divided by commas, p. 971. 34. Also when phrase ends with ex- clamatiou or interrogation mark, p. 272. ii. The dash used, p, 373. iii. Parentheses used, p. 273, 35. With other points, p. 273. iv. Brackets u.scd, 36. Brackets preferred, p. 273. a. Tu state that veibal mistake is a transcript, p. 273. p. To insert in quotations state- ment of things done but not said, p. 973, y. For outer parenthesis, when another is enclosed, p. 974. f. Usually, to indicate ellipsis, p. 974. g. To introduce quotations, p, 274. i. The comma used, p, 274. ii. The colon used, p. 274, CHAPTER XV. PXJNCTtTATION— Gontinued. The principles of punctuation are subtle, and an exact logical training is requisite for the ]U8t application of them. Naturally, then, misLakea in the use of points, as of all the elements of languatre, written and spoken, are fi'equent ; so much so, in fact, that in the construction of private contracts, and even of statutes, judicial tribunals do not much regard punctuation \ and some eminent jurists have thought that legislative enactments and public documents should be without it. — Marsh. II. RULES DEPENDENT UPON JUDGMENT. . A Marked Distinction. — While some of the rules al- ready given allow latitude to differences of interpretation, and even of taste, most of them are rigid. One violates them at the peril of bping misunderstood, and with the certainty of being looked upon as defective iu education. Though his sentences be constructed with the utmost sim- plicity, a writer can hardly fail to need every direction that has been given. We come now to more uncertain ground. The difficulty of jpunctuation as an a/rt, and the diversity in usage, a?'e mostly confined to the division of sentences hy commas. It is a general rule that these divisions are to aid the eye in comprehending the construction of the sentence. As to what is the construction of a sentence, what are the rela- tions of the parts to each other, and how these relations may best be indicated by punctuation, judgment and taste differ so widely that no absolute rules can be laid down. Chap. XV.] DIVERSITY OF USAGE. 277 Adverbial phrases, for instance, are to be separated only when they break the connection. But when do they break the connection ? To one man, grasping easily the sentence as a whole, no ordinary phrase is an interruption. To another, who works out the meaning little by little, each group of words requires individual study. The latter may be obliged to insert with a lead -pencil a dozen points which the author has thought unnecessary. On the other hand, a rapid reader may feel clogged by a succession of commas that are to him unnecessary and annoying. , Take, for instance, this sentence from " Green's History of the English People " (Harper's edition, iii. 227) : In spite of this Charles had throughout the year been intriguing with the Confeder- ates through Lord Glamorgan ; and though his efforts to secure their direct aid were for some time fruitless he succeeded in September in bringing abont an armistice between ,tb£ir foi;ces and the army under the Earl of Ormond which had as yet held them in check. Here is a sentence without a comma that many writers would have divided by commas after this, had, year. Confederates, were, time, fruitless, succeeded, Septembsr, Ormond, had, yet — no less than twelve commas for which rules can be found in most treatises on punctuation, and no one of which, if all were inserted, could be called an error. ' On the other hand, the sentence as it stands must be pro- nounced faultless. IV is perspicuous, easily read, easily under- stood. The only possible misconception would be as to the last relative clause. It is an accepted rule that a relative clause not separated by a comma is restrictive. Applying that rule here, it might be inferred that there was some other army under the Earl of Ormond that had not held them in check. But as it happens, Mr. Green follows the rule to use that to introduce restrictive clauses, and which to introduce those that modify Without restrict- ing ; hence he makes the distinction clear without punctuation. There is therefore in this sentence the liberty under rules to use any number of commas from none to twelve. Surely there is nothing absolute in rules so variously constmed. It should be remarked, however, that ouJy PW? in the arrange- 278 PUNCTUATION. [Part III. ment of clauses makes it possible to dispense with punctuation. Construct the sentence as follows, and no one of the twelve commas can be spared ; Charles had been intriguing, in spite of this, through Lord Glamorgan, throughout the year, with the Confederates ; and he succeeded, though his efforts were fruitless to secure their direct aid, for some time, in bringing about an armistice, in September, be- tween their forces and the army which, as yet, under the Earl of Ormdnd, had held them in check. He PmsroTUATES Best who Needs to PtmcruATE Least. -^A comparison of the two sentences just given will impress upon the reader a principle of composition than which no other is more important: — The less punc- tuation, a sentence needs, the more clear and effective it is. This does not mean that all sentences are to be short, with one siibject and one predicate. Delicate shades of meaning often require complicated sentences. Our state- ment is, not that an unpunctuated sentence is better than another sentence which requires considerable punctuation, but that a given sentence is improved when, by a re- arrangement of its clauses, fewer punctuation marks are requii-ed. These marks are often, and rightly, called " stops." To a certain extent they are interruptions of the flow of the sentence. The notion that they indicate where one reading aloud is to pause, either for breath or for emphasis, was long ago given up. They are simply aids to unravel a tangled sentence. W^iat can be clearer than that a sentence should be as little tangled as pos- sible ? For the peace of mind of thousands of women who are wretched cooks, the writer of the following paragraph should so have ar- ranged his clauses as to escape being at the mercy of a careless ■printer who drops a comma : An unfortunate wife was killed at Troy, N. Y., while cooking her husband's breakfast in afearful manner. Punctuatjpn may remove an ambiguity, but will never produce Chap. XV.] THE COMMA. PERMITTED. 279 that peculiar beauty wMch is perceived when the sense comes out clearly and distinctly by means of a happy arrangement. — Kambs. The introduction of marks of punctuation into Latin manuscript was .'specially favored by the inflexible character of the Latin language, which inexorably demands a periodic structure, and, like a true pedagogue, pedantically insists that the reader shall parse every word in order to master the sentence. Once employed they become indispensable. Beginning with air-bladders we never learn to swim without them. Every parenthesis must have its landmarks, every turn of phrase its finger-post. We think by commas, semi- colons and periods, and the free movements of a Demosthenes or a Thucydides are as unlike the measured, balanced tread of a modern orator or historical narrator, as the flight of an eagle to the lock-step of a prison convict, or to the march of a well-drilled sol- dier, who can plant his foot only at the tap of the drum. We are not content with a punctuation which marks the beginning and end of a period, separates its members, and distinguishes parenthetical qualifications. We require that it shall indicate the rhetorical character of the sentence. If it is vocative, ejaculatory, optative, interjectional, it must hoist an explanation point as as a signal. If it is hypothetical or interrogative, it must announce itself by a mark of interrogation ; and the Spaniards carry the point so far, that, in their typography, these signs precede as well as follow the sentence. — Mabbh. VIII. The Comma may be used : a. To separate from the rest of the sentence, adverbs, adverbial conjunctions, and short adverbial clauses only when they break the connection. (i.) Commas required: There is, therefore, a limit at which forbearance ceases to be a virtue.— BuBKE. In strict justice, perhaps, he should be punished. Wit, like money, bears an extra value when rung down imme- diately it is wanted. Men pay severely who require credit. — Jbr- BOIiD. You shall see them on a beautiful q\iarto page, where a neat rivulet of text shall meander through a meadow of margin. — Sheridau. (ii.) Com/ina^ not required : Therefore there is a limit at which .forbearance ceases to be a virtue. Perhaps in strict justice he should be punished. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. — Pope. A little nonsense now and then Is relished by the best of men. 280 THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. Silence when nothing need be said is the eloquence of dis- cretion. — rBoVBE. The systematic study of the mother tongue, like that of" all branches 6f knowledge which we acquire, to a sufficient extent for ordinary purposes, without study, is naturally very generally ne- glected. — Maesh. Here the commas after " acquire*' and ** purposes " merely clog the flow of thought, making the idea less distinct. Special changes of vocabulary can frequently be explained, after they have once hap- pened, but very seldom foretold. — Marsh. Here the " after they have [once] happened" is closely con- neoted^with the "explained," the whole expression "explained after they have happened " corresponding with the single word "foretold." Hence the comma after '-explained" obscures the sense. Find other illustrations on page 220. See ' ' therefore," page 327. (iii.) Commas used or not, aocordmg to preference : Words indeed are but the signs and counters of knowledge, and their currency should be strictly regulated by the capital which they represent. — Colton. Beneath the rule of men entirely great The pen js mightier than the sword. — Bui. web. The thoughts that come unsought, and, as it were, drop into the mind, are commonly the most valuable of any we have, and therefore they should be secured, because they seldom return again. — Locke. When I read rules of criticism, I inquire immediately after the works of the author who has written them, and by that means dis- cover what it is he likes in a composition. — Addison. (iv.) Commas used or not, according to meaning : Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, When thouglit is speech, and speech is truth. — Marmion. Here to insert a comma after age, would mean that the age when thought is speech covers the entire period from boy to youth. Chap. XV.] ADVERBIAL PHRASES. 281 while to omit it would mean that this age is restricted to a period somewhere between boy and youth, but not covering the entire time. He endeavored in every possible way to undermine his rival. As unpunctuated, or with commas after "endeavored" and "way," the "every possible way" would signify that his endea- vors were of every kind. A comma after " endeavored " would indicate that the undermining was to be of every possible kind. In other words, the first punctuation would throw the emphasis upon the methods employed ; the latter, upon the results ob- tained. The Toast as Given. — *' Woman : without her, man is a savage." T/ie Toast as Read. — " Woman, without her man, is a savage." A barber's sign read as follows : What do you think III shave you for nothing, and give you a drink. Strangers would mentally punctuate it as follows : What do yon think I I'll shave you for nothing, and give you a drink. But after being attended to, they were assured that the mean- ing was as follows : what I do you think ril shave you for nothing, and give you a drink ? 37. Adverbs distinguished from Conjunctions. — Many words ranked as adverbs are sometimes employed conjunctively, and re- quire a different treatment in their punctuation. When used as conjunctions, however, now, then, too, indeed, are divided by commas from the context ; but when as adverbs, qualifying the words with which they are associated, the separation should not be made. This distinction will be seen from the following examples : 1. However. — We must, however, pay some deference to the opinions of the wise, however much they are contrary to our own. 2. Now. — I have now shown the consistency of my principles ; and, now, what is the fair and obvious conclusion ? 3. Then. — On these facts, then, I then rested my argument, and afterwards made a few general observations on the subject. 282 THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. 4. Too. — I found, too, a theatre at Alexandria, and another at Cairo ; but he who would enjoy the repreBentations must not be too particular. 5. Indeed.— The young man was indeed culpable in that act, though, indeed, he con- ducted himself very well in other respects. When placed at the end of a sentence or a clause, the coniunc- tion too must not be separated from the context by a comma ; as, " I would that they had changed voices too." — Wilson. b. To sepcM-ate the subject from the .predicate, only when: (i.) The subject ends with a verb; as, Whatever is, is right. (ii.) The subject is so long and involved that it is diffi- cult to see where it ends and the predicate begins. Thus : The voice of praise, too, coming from those to whom we had thought ourselves unknown, has a magic about it that must be felt to be understood. — Lever. He who comes up to his own idea of greatness, must always have had a very low standard of it in his mind. — Hazlptt. He that will lose his friend for a jest, deserves to die a beggar by the bargain. — PuliiEH. To write much, and to write rapidly, are empty boasts. The world desires to know what you have done, and not how you did it. — ^Lewbs. He that cometh in print because he would be knowen, is like the foole that cometh into the Market because he woulde be seen. — Ltlt. There are few delights in any life so high and rare as the subtle and strong delight of sovereign art and poetry ; there are none more pure and sublime. To have read the greatest work of any great poet, to have beheld or heard the greatest works of any great painter or musician, is a possession added to the best things of life. — Swinburne. Discretion of speech is more than eloquence ; and to speak agreeably to him with whom we deal, is more than to speak in good words, or in good order. — Bacon. My tongue within my lips I rein, ^or who talk|3 much, must talk ip vain. — G-AT. Chap. XV.] SUBJECT AND PREDICATE SEPARATED. 283 38. Whether it is difficult to see where the predicate begins is usually a matter of judgment. Find examples on pages 49, 147, 187. Usually the comma should be omitted unless its need is manifest. Thus : A wise man in the company of the ignorant has been compared by the sages to a beautiful girl in the company of blind men.— Saadi. Sometimes, however, ambiguity is manifest, and tmless the sen- tence is reconstructed the comma must be used. 39. Sometimes, especially in contrasted expressions, a comma may be inserted to compel attention to each member of the sen- tence ; as, Mind unemployed, is mind unenjoyed. — Bovee. 40. When the subject consists of several clauses, especially when each ends with a semicolon, the last commonly ends either with a comma followed by a dash, or with a colon, and all the clauses are summed up in some one word or expression. There is scarce a village in Europe, and not one university, that is not furnished with its little great men. The head of a petty corporation, who opposes the desigiiK of a prince who would tyrannically force hie subjects to save their best clothes for Sundays . the puny pedant, who finds one undisuovereil quality in the polypus, or describef; an unheeded pro- cess in the skeleton of a mole, and whose mind, like his microscope, perceives nature only in detail ; the rhymer, who makes smooth verses and paints to our imagination, when he should only speak to our hearts, — all equally fancy themselves walking forward to immor- tality, and desire the crowd behind them to look on. A pickpocket in every car ; a cheat at every station ; every third switch on the road misplaced ; the danger of being hurled Trom the track, and then burned alive : these cou- fiiderations prevent my triiveUing on the railroad of which you speak. When you know a thing, to hold that you know it ; and when you do not know a thing, to allow that you do not know it : this is knowledge.— Confucius. Style I Btj'le 1 why, all writers will tell you that it is the very thing which can least of all be changed. A man's style is nenrly as much a part of him as his physiognomy, hia figure, the throbbing of his pulse,— in short, as any part of his being which is least sub- jected to the action of the will. — Femelon. It is no proof of a man's undcrstaniiing to be able to confirm whatever he pleases ; but to be able to discern that what is true is true, and that what is false is false : this is the mark and character of intelligence.— Emehson. There are three friendships that are advantageous, and three that are injurious. Friendship with the upright; friendship with the sincere : and friendship with the man of observation : these are advantageous. Friendship with tl/e man of specious airs ; friend- ship with the insinuatingly soft ; and friendship with the glib-tongued : these are injuri- ous.— Confucius. Find examples on pages 50, 84, 85, 96, 217. 284 THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. c. To separate the object from the predicate only when without it there would be manifest ambiguity. Thus : Friends to whom you are in debt, you hate. — ^Witoherlby. With- out the comma, it might be the friends who were hated, or the debt. d. Before the first '■Hhat" in clauses introduced by "It is said that," " I answer that," etc., when there are several propositions in the same construction. Thus : It was a cutting remark of Sheridan's, that a certain speaker was indebted to his imagination for his facts, and that he relied upon his memory for his wit. Philosophers assert, that Nature is unlimited in her operations, that she has inexhaustible treasures in reserve, that knowledge will be always progressive, and that all future generations will continue to make discoveries of which we have not the slightest idea. 41. After nouns like maxim, rule, fact, law, principle, etc., a sin- gle proposition may take a comma before the that ; as, It is an old maxim, that fast bound is fast found. 42. "Where such a proposition is introduced by the verb to be, a comma is usually inserted before the that. Thus : Let our object be, our country, our whole country, and notMng but our country. — Webbteb. There is, first, the literature of knowledge; and, secondly, the literature. of power. The function of the first is, to teach ; the function of the second is, to move : the first is a rudder ; the second an oar or a sail. The first speaks to the mere discursive under- standing ; the second speaks ultimately, it may happen, to the higher understanding or reason, but always through affections of pleasure and sympathy. — De Quincet. 43. When the introductory clause is long, it makes the proposi- tion more definite and emphatic to insert the comma ; as. It is the ruin of all the young talent of the day, that reading and writing are simultaneous. — ^Mbs. FiiETOHHR. e. To separate co-ordmate clauses, where each thought demands distinct, but not emphatically distinct, considera- tion ; as, Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man. — Bacon. Chap. XV.] CO-ORDINATE CLAUSES. 285 It is only in the separation of co-ordinate clauses that there is any reason in the old rule of counting one for a comma, two for a semicolon, three for a colon, and four for a period. In this use of the marks, the author indicates the time he wishes each individ- ual thought of a series to receive by the importance of the points by which he separates them. Thus, to quote a familiar line from Tennyson, Knowledge cornea, bnt wisdom lingers, the use of the comma distinguishes the two ideas, but does not emphatically contrast them. If the line were written, Knowledge comes ; but wisdom lingers,- the mind would be compelled to dwell a moment longer on the contrast. If it were written, Knowledge comes : but wisdom lingers, the contrast would be still more marked. If it were written, Knowledge comes. But wisdom lingers, or, Knowledge comes, — But wisdom lingers, the reader would feel that the author meant to give this thought all possible emphasis. Or if, again, it were written. Knowledge comes but wisdom lingers, the effect would be somewhat that of repeating a familiar proverb, remembered as a whole, without care to distinguish its connection of thought. Where so much depends upon a shade of meaning, more can be learned from example than from precept ; so in place of arbitrary rules we give a number of typical sentences. (i.) No point used. A student of punctuation should ask himself why in a given case to put in a stop rather than why to leave one out ; for the insertion of unnecessary stops is, on the whole, more likely to mislead a reader than is the omisRion of necessary ones. — A. S. Hill. Here the contrast requires a comma between stop and rather. It is in general more profitable to reckon up our defects than to boast of our attain- ments.— CABLTIiB. 286 THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. The true uee of speech is not so much to express our wants as to conceal them. — Goldsmith. (ii.) The comma used. Where nature's end of language is declined, And men talk only to conceal their mind. — YoiTNG. E'en copious Dryden wanted, or forgot, The last and greatest art, the art to blot. — Pope. For rhetoric he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope. — Sudihras. Conceit n^ay pnfE a man up, but never prop him up.— Ruskin. The fool doth think he is wise, but the wipe man knows himself to be a fool. — As You Like It. Occasions do not make a man frail, but they show that he is. — Thomas i. Kemp:s. His face was without form and dark, the stars dim twinkled through his form.— OSSIAN. Master books, but do not let them master you. Read to live, not live to read.— BULWEE. His heart was as great as the world, but there was no room in it to hold the memory of a wrong. — Emerson. It is not always the depth or the novelty of a thought which constitutes its value to ourselves, but the fitness of its application to our circumstances. — Sewell. No great genius was ever without some mixture of madness, nor can anything grand or superior to the voice of common mortals be spoken except by the agitated soul. — Abistotlb. The mind never unbends itself so agreeably as in the conversation of a well-chosen friend. There ia indeed no blessing in lite that is any way comparable to the enjoyment of a discreet and virtuous friend. IL eases and unloads the mind, clears and improves the understanding, engenders thoughts and knowledge, animates virtue and good resolutions, soothes and allays the passions, and finds employment for most of the vacant hours of life. — Addison. God be thanked for books. They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages. Books are the true levellers. They give to all who will faithfully use them the society, the spiritual presence of the best and greatest of our rjice. No matter how poor I am, no matter though the prosperous of my own time will not enter my humble dwelling. If the sacred \vriter8 will enter and take up their abode under my roof, if Milton will cross my threshold to sing to me of Para- dise, and Shakspere, to open to me the worlds of imagination and the workings of the human heart, and Franklin to enrich me with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine for want of intellectual companionship, and I may become a cultivated man though excluded from what is called the best society, in the place where I live. — C^ANNING. Find other illustrations on pages 45, 128. (iii.) The semicolon used. Some must watch, while some must sleep ; So runs the world away. — Mamlet. Men's evil maimers live in brass ; their virtues we write in water, — SnAKSPEHB. Learning without thought is labor lost ; thought without learning is perilous. — OoN- Chap. XV.] CO-ORDINATE CLAUSES. 2S7 What the great man seeks is in himself ; what the small man seeks is in others. — Con- FtrciTJS. Gossip is a sort of smoke that comes from the dirty tobacco-pipos of those who diffuse it ; it proves nothing but the bad taste of the smoker,— George Eliot. The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related, that it is difficult to class them separately. One wtep below the sublime makes the ridiculous ; and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again. — Paine. 44. Glauses that are themselves divided hy commas should be divided from each other by semicolons. Thus : "Words learned by rote a parrot may rehearse, But talking is not always to converse ; Not more distinct from harmony divine The constant creaking of a country sign. — Cowpeb. We think our fathers fools, ro wise we grow ; Our wiser sons, no doubt, will think us so. — Pope. English is an expressive language, but not difficult to master. Its range is limited ; it consists, as far as I can observe, of four words, ' ' nice,*' " jolly," " charming," and some grammarians add * fond." — Disraeli. The orator persuades and carries all with him, he knows not how ; the rhetorician can prove that he ought to have persuaded and carried ajl with him. — Carltle. Equality is the life of conversation ; and he is as much out who assumes to himself any part above another, as he who considers himself below the rest of the society. — Steele. Whatever be the number of a man's friends, there will be times in his life when he has one too few ; but if he has only one enemy, he is lucky indeed if he has not one too many. — BULWEB. There is no harm in being stupid, so long as a man does not think himself clever; no good in being clever, if a man thinks himself so, for that is a short way to the worst stupidity. — Macdonald. A slender acquaintance with the world must convince every man that actions, not words, are the true criterion of the attachment of friends; and that the most liberal pro- fessions of good-will are very far from being th.e surest marks of it. — \\'ashington. In literature quotation is good only when the writer whom I follow goes my way, and, being better mounted than I,, gives me a cast as we say ; but if I like the gay equipage so well as to go out of my road, I had better have gone afoot. — Emehson. When self-esteem expresses itself in contempt of another, be it the meanest, it must berepellant. A flippant, frivolous man may ridicule others, may controvert them, scorn them ; but he who has any respect for himself seems to have renounced the right of thinking meanly of others. — Goethe. Poetry, above all, we should have known long ago, is ore of those mysterious things whose origin and developments never can be what we call explained ; often it seems to us like the wind, blowing where it lists, coming and departing with little or no regard to any the most cunning theory that has yet been devised of it. — Cablyle. Find illustrations on pages 107, 157, 223, 235, 246. Notice neglect of this rule on pages 216-219, 227. (iv.) The colon used. Great things astonish ns, and small dishearten : custom makes both familiar. — De la BaiTTilBE. 288 THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. 45. Glauses that are themselves divided hy semicolons may be di- vided from each fither hy colons. Thus : Think all you speak ; but speak not all you think : Thoughts are your own ; your words are so no more ; Where Wisdom steers, wind cannot make you sink : Lips never err, when she does keep the door. — Delaunb. In friendships some are worthy, and some are necessary ; some dwell hard by, and are fitted for converse; nature joins some to us, and religion combines us with others; so- ciety and accidents, parity of fortune, and equal disposition, do actuate all our friend- ships: which of themselves and in their prime dispositions are prepared for all mankind according as any one can receive them. — JEBEifY Taylor. ' Find illustrations on pages 68, 97, 121, 234, 250. Notice neg- lect of this rule on pages 216-219. 46. Hence the colon is especially adapted to separate from other clauses a clause that summarizes them. There are but two ways of paying debt : increase of industry in raising income, in- crease of thrift in laying out. — CAELTiiE, It is with books as with men : a very small number play a great part ; the rest are confounded with the multitude. — Voltaire. Find illustrations on pages 14, 210, 213. 47. But when clauses that expand a thought are introduced by namely, to wit, as, thus, etc., a semicolon precedes and a comma follows these introductory words. Thus : As for jest, there be certain things which ought to be privileged from it; namely, re- ligion, matters of state, great persons, any man's present business of impoi-tance, any case that deserveth pity. — Bacon, Even when namely or the like word is omitted, the semicolon is retained if the structure remains the same. Thus : Incivility is not a vice of the soul, but the effect of several vices ; of vanity, ignorance of duty, laziness, stupidity, distraction, contempt of others, and jealousy. — De la Bru- YERE, Correct the sentence from Legouve, page 151. (v.) The sentence divided into two or more s&ntences. There is no such thing as a dumb poet or a handless painter. The essence of an ar- tist is that he should be articulate. — Swinbttrne. Just as it may cost a strong man less effort to carry a hundred-weight from place to place at once, than by a stone at a time ; so, to an active mind it may be easier to bear along all the qualifications of an idea and at once rightly form it when named, than to first imperfectly conceive such idea and then carry back to it, one by one, the details Chap. XV.] RELATIVE CLAUSES. 289 and limitations afterward mentioned. While conversely, as for a boy, the only possible mode of transf eiTing a hundred-weight, is that of taking it in portions ; so, for a weak mind, the only possible mode of forming a compound conception may be that of build- ing it up by carrying separately its several parts.— Herbebt Spencer. f . To set off Dependent Clauses, when the connection is not close. (i.) Helatwe Clauses, when not restrioti/ue. Introduced by the Dwisible Eelabvoe. (See Part I., Adjective Sen- tences.) Usage on this point is so uniform that the comma should be omitted only by those who so construct their sentences as to use very few commas. (See page 277.) It is commonly understood that he who "writes, The scholar, who loves his books, is to be envied, uses the word scholar in a general sense, implying that all scholars love their books and are to be envied ; while to say The scholar wbo loves his books is to be envied, is to restrict the predicate to that kind of scholar who does love his books, implying that there are scholars (in this case using the word in the sense of pupil) who do not love their books. In the first case, the relative clause is descriptive, mentioning one of the char- acteristics of a scholar, in a clause that might be omitted without changing the essential statement. In the second case, the relative clause is restrictive, not to be omitted without changing the mean- ing. Hence the observance of this distinction is of great impor- tance. There are laws on many statute books, the effect of which has been either lost or perverted, because they were drawn by legislators unfamiliar with this principle. (See page 297.) Restrictive clauses. Introduced by the Indi/visible Mela- ti/oe. There is no true orator who is not a hero. — Emerson. Wit consists in knowing the resemblance of things that differ, and the difference of things that are alike. — DB Stael. Education alone can conduct us to that enjoyment which is at once best in quality and infinite in quantity. — Mann. 290 THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. Every school-boy and school-girl who has arrived at the age of reflection ought to knowsomething about the history of the art of printing.— Mann. Oaly the refined and delicate pleasures that spring from research and education can build up barriers between different ranks. — De Stael. They are never alone that are accompanied with noble thoughts.— Sidney. Those who live on vanity must nob unreasonably expect to die of mortification. — Mrs. Ellis. But far more numerous was the herd of such Who think too little, and who talk too much. — Dbyben. But every page having an ample marge, And every marge enclosing in the midst A square of text that looks a little blot. — Tbnntson. The art of quotation requires more delicacy in the practice than those conceive who can see nothing more in a quotation than an extract. — I. Disraeli. There is a great deal of unmapped country within us which would have to be taken int J account in explanation of our gusts and 6torms. — George Eliot. Find illustrations on page 73.^ 48. Even before restrictive clauses a comma is necessary, when the relative is separated from its antecedent and likely to be con- nected with some other word. Thus : He is a fool. Who only sees the mischiefs that are past.— Bbx ant's Jliad. Clauses not resi/rictwe. There were very few passenger?, who escaped without serious injury. This means that all the passengers were saved. Omit the comma, and the meaning is that nearly all the passengers were injured. Men of great conversational powers almost universally practise a sort of lively sophis- try and exaggeration, which deceives, for the moment, both themselves and their audi- tors. — Mac aula Y. The things which are seen are temporal. The man who laughed loudly was the thief. The above restrictive clauses may be thus converted into non- restrictive : Things, which are seen, appeal more direotly to the child than words, which are only heard. He handed it to the man, who laughed loudly and tossed it in the air. Clauses restrictive and non-restrictive m the same sen- tence. Chap. XV.] RELATIVE CLAUSES. 291 It was the necessity which made me a quarrier, that taught me to be a geologist.— Hugh Milleb. When it is the head of the family, who is usually the bread-winner, that is laid pros- trate. It is this exclusively national Bpirlt, and the undisguised contempt for other people, that the English are so accustomed to express in their manner and conduct, which havo made us so generally unpopular on the Continent. — H. Matthews. Flesh is but the glass which holds the dust that measures all our time, which also shall be crumbled in dust. — George Hebbebt. 49. The same distinction in relative clauses should be observed in the choice of the relative pronoun. In restrictive clauses, that should be used instead of which, or who. In Worcester's Dictionary, some specifications are made un- der this rule, as follows : *' There are cases in which that is properly used when applied to persons, instead of who : Ist. When it follows the interrogative wAo, or an adjective in the superlative de- gree : as, ' Who that has any sense of right would reason thus ? ' ' He was the oldest per- son tfiat I saw,' 9d. When it follows the pronominal adjective same ; as, ' He was the same man that I saw before.' 3d. When persons make but apart of the antecedent ; as, ' The man and things that he mentioned.' 4th. After an antecedent introduced by the expletive it ; as, ' It was I, not he, that did it.' " Abbott gives these exceptions : (a) When the antecedent is defined, e.g. by a possessive case, modern English uses who instead of that. It is rare, though it would be useful, to say " His English friends that had not seen him " for *' the English friends, or those of his English, friends, that had not seen him." (ft) That sounds ill when separated from its verb and from its antecedents, and em- phasized by isolation : "There are many persons thaS^ though unscrupulous, are com- monly good-tempered, and that, if not strongly incited by self interest, are ready for the most part to think of the interest of their neighbors." Shakespere frequently uses who after that when the relative is repeated. See " Shakesperian Grammar,'' par. 260. (c) If the antecedent is qualified by that, the relative must not be that. Bes'des other considerations, the repetition is disagreeable. Addison ridicules such language as " Thai remark t/iat I made yesterday is not that that I said that I regretted that I had made," (d) That cannot be preceded by a preposition, and hence throws the preposition to the end. "This is the rule that I adhere «o." This is perfectly good English, though some- times unnecessarily avoided. But, with some prepositions, the construction is harsh and objectionable, e.g. "This is the mark that I jumped feeyond.'" "Such were the prejudices that he rose abooe." The reason is that some of these dissyllabic prepositions are used as adverbs, and, when separated from their nouns, give one the impression that they are used as adverbs. (6) After pronominal adjectives used for personal pronouns, modem English prefers who. " There are many, others, several, those, wf>o can testify, etc." [Here there is good authority the other way.] (f) After that used as a conjunction there is sometimes a dislike to use that as a rela- tive. See (c). 392 THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. The distinction in the use of that as a restrictive is compara- tively modern. Blair (Lecture xx.) censures Addison for writing, " A man of a polite imagination is let into a great many pleasures that the vulgar are not capable of receiving," saying, "In some cases we are indeed obliged to use that for a relative in order to avoid the ungraceful repetition of which in the same sentence. But when we are laid under no necessity of the kind, which is always the preferable word." The following examples are quoted from Hodgson's " Errors in the Use of English : " It is quite clear tliat it is not the last weight raised which regulates the weight of the letter ; but the weight of the letter which regulates which is the last weight which will be raised.— H. D. Macleod. (Of these four "whiches," all but the third should be "that.") There is probably no one of this generation who bestows any thought upon the prob- lems of history and politics, who will not acknowledge his indebtedness to Mr. Carlyle. — London Times. (Here Mr. Hodgson corrects the second " who '" to " that ; " but strictly both " whos " should be "thats," and euphony would preserve the second "who "rather than the first.) So in page 16, next line to last, "that" might well be changed to "which" on ac- count of the " that" in the line following. The crisis is one of the most singular which [that] have ever occurred. — EcoTiomist. It was this which [that] made his sect so feared and hated among certain classes in Rome. — W. W. Story. But next to the novelty and originaUty of these tales, it was their matchless force and vigor which [that] magnetically attracted the reading world. — Elze. Going back to the illustrations of the use of the comma in rela- tive clauses, page 289, under Restrictive Clauses, in the quotation from Emerson "that" should be substituted for "who." In the first quotation from Mann, "which "is preferred to "that," be- cause another "that "has just preceded "enjoyment." In the second quotation from Mann, "who" should be "that." The second word in the quotation from Mrs. Ellis should be " that," and in the second line from Diyden "as " should in both places be sub- stituted for " who." In the last line from Tennyson, to omit the comma and use " that " throws the emphasis upon hlot, while to insert a comma after " text " and substitute " which " for " that," would leave the emphasis upon text, making the last clause a descriptive after-thought. Disraeli should have written " that " instead of "who," and if George Eliot retained "which," she should have put the comma before it. In that case the emphasis of Chap. XV.] DEPENDENT CLAUSES. 293 thought would lie upon the statement that there is an unmapped country within us, while to omit the comma and substitute " that " for "which" would throw the emphasis upon the idea of ex- planation. As it stands, the sentence is therefore ambiguous. Under Clauses restrictive and non-restrictive, page 291, in the quota- tion from Matthews " that" and " which " should be transposed. Make corrections on pages 75, 81, 216-219. With these hints, the student should be able to discriminate as to the use of the relatives ; and he is urged to observe with refer- ence to this rule all relative clauses he encounters, until the distinction becomes habitual. Find errors under this head on pages 5, 34, 41. The caution so often given should here be repeated, that this dis- crimination is for the student's own use — not for criticism of the usage of others. The careful writer and speaker will be sure that his restrictive pronoun is " that," except when the previous use of "that " as an adjective pronoun would make " who " or " which" more euphonious. But he will not pronounce a sentence ungram- matical that violates this rale ; for if he did he might be con- fronted with examples from almost every noted writer of English r with the entire quotation from Macaulay (pages 216-219), for in- stance. , (ii.) Other Dependent Clauses except when so short or so immediately connected with what precedes and follows that the meaning is unmistakable. As has been remarked, the ideal sentence is so arranged that it requires the minimum of punctuation. In some sentences the aiTangement is so faulty that punctuation cannot remove the am- biguity. Thus : " Biddy," said a lady to her servant, " I wish you would step over and see how old Mrs. Jones is this morning." In a few minutes Biddy returned with the information that Mrs. Jones was seventy-two years, seven months, and twenty- eight days old. jpg*" Every School and College in the United States should have a copy of " Com- stock's Colored Chart " hanging on its walls, for the instruction of its pupils, which will be supplied at 20 per cent, off of retail price, or $4.00 each. The rising tomb a lofty column bore. — PoPB, And thus the son the fervent sire addressed, — PopB. He takes young children .in his arms, And in his bosom bears, 294: THE COMMA PERMITTED. [Part III. In other sentences unusual punctuation may be required to make perspicuous a sentence ambiguously worded. Thus : Not only Jesuits can equivocate. — Crtden. Here a comma after * * only " will make the meaning that there are other facts besides the fact that Jesuits can equivocate. But a comma after Jesuits will make the meaning that others besides Jesuits can equivocate. Again : Young Itylus, his parents' darling joy, Whom chance misled the mother to destroy. — Pope. Here a comma after *' misled" will indicate that Itylus de- stroyed his mother; a comma after "mother,'' that the mother destroyed Itylus. Again : Solomon, the son of David who j biiilt the temple at Jerusalem, I was the richest I was persecuted by Saul, j monarch that ever reigned. Here to make the upper clause of the brace applicable, a comma must be inserted before *' who ; " to make the lower clause appli- cable the comma must be omitted, though in this case the "who" should properly be " that." The following sentences, awkward and inelegant as they are, may be made by punctuation to express their intended meaning unmistakably : He said I could not make mince-pies like bis mother. I perceived it had been scoured with half an eye. — The Guardian. It has not a word but what the author religiously thinks m it. — Pope. Mr. Dryden makes a very handsome observation on Ovid's writing a letter from Dido to ^neas in the following words. — The Spectator. Wanted : a man to fit boots of a good moral character. The barber was shot while shaving a customer with a brass-barrelled pistol. The following lines were written more than fifty years ago by one who has lor many years slept in his grave merely for his own amusement. Instead of purity resulting from that arrangement to India, England itself would soon be tainted. — Macaulat. The purpose is to bring the act stated into prominence. — Alford. quoted bj/ Moon. I have noticed the word "party" used for an individual occurring in Shakspere. — Id. I remember when the French band of the " Guides" were iij this country reading in the Illustrated NewK.—Id, Chap. XV.] DEPENDENT CLAUSES. 295 These shrieks, as they are called, are scattered up and down the page by compositors without any mercy. — Id. A. man does not lose his mother now in the papers. — Id. The Greeks, fearing to be surrounded on all sides, wheeled about and halted with the river on their backs.— Goldsmith. In an examination in the House of Commons in 18119 a member said that " the wit- ness had been ordered to withdraw from the bar in consequence of being intoxicated by the motion of an honorable member." — G-raham, Her body being picked up was carried to the residence of her brother where she lived in an express wagon. In one evening I counted twenty-seven meteors sitting on my back-piazza. The remains were committed to that bourne from which no traveller returns accom- panied by his friends. There are some defects which must be acknowledged in the dictionary. Wanted, a young man to take care of a horse of temperate and industrious habits. Wanted : a saddle horse for a lady weighing about 950 pounds. " Is there a gentleman with one eye named Walker in tha club ? " — " I don't know; what was the name of his other eye ? " Mr. Robinson's daughter was run over by a market wagon three years old with sore eyes and copper-toed shoes that never spoke afterward. We have two school-rooms large enough to accommodate three hundred pupils one above the other. "I don't want your paper any longer,'' wrote an angry subscriber. — "I wouldn't make it any longer if you did," rciplied the editor, " for it would involve a new press." There is a gift beyond the reach of art of being eloquently silent. — Bovee. Just when the comma may be omitted, and just when it is necessary to make clear the relations of dependent clauses, only- individual judgment as to the sentence involved can determine. Here are a few illustrations. i. The GOTYvma used, A compliment is usually accompanied with a bow, as if to beg pardon for saying it. —J. C. and A. W. Hare. Method is not less necessary in ordinary conversation tlian in writing, providmg a man would talk to make himself understood. — Addison, Clap an extinguisher uiJbn your irony, if you are unhappily blest with a vein of it. — Charles Lamb. His tongue Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, to perplex and dash Maturest counsels. — Milton. I've never any pity for ■ conceited people, because I think they carry their comfort about with them. — Geoboe Eliot. It is style alone by which posterity will judge of a great work, for an author can have nothing truly his own but his style. — I. Disraeli. Immodest words admit of no defence. For want of decency is want of sense. — Roscommon. 296 PUNCTUATION. [Pabt III. 50. Clauses denoting cause or result are freijuently introduced by the colon, instead of tlie comma. Thus : Let h}m ba kept from paper, pen, and ink; So may he cease to write and learn to think. — FBI OB. With my friend I desire not to share or participate, but to engross his sorrows ; that by making them ray own, I may more easily discuss them : for in mine own reason, and within myself, I can command that which I cannot entreat without myself, and within the circle of another. — Sir Thomas Beowme. ii. The comma omitted. A man may write at any time if he set himself doggedly to it. — Johnson. A man may be as much a fool from the want of sensibility as the want of sense, — Mrs. Jameson. It is much easier to be critical than to be correct, — Disbaelz. Explain the use of all the commas on page 156. Insert punctuation marks where required in the following paragraphs, keeping in mind that proper names and sen- tences begin with capital letters, and that the first personal pronoun is always a capital letter. A little way below the great fall the river is comparatively speaking so tranquil that a ferry-boat plies between the Canada and american shores for the convenience of travellers when i first crossed the heaving flood tossed about the skiff with a violence that seemed very alarming but as soon as we gained the middle of the river my attention was altogether engaged by the surpassing gran- deur of the scene before me i was now within the area of a semicir- cle of cataracts more than three thousand feet in extent and floated on the surface of a gulf raging fathomless and interminable njajestio clifis splendid rainbows lofty trees and columns of spray were the gorgeous decorations of this theatre of wonders while a dazzling sun shed refulgent glories upon every part of the scene surrounded with clouds of vapor and stunned into a state of confusion and ter- ror by the hideous noise i looked upwards to the height of one hun- dred and fifty feet and saw vast floods dense awful and stupendous vehemently biu'sting over the precipice arid rolling down as if the windows of heaven were opened to pour another deluge upon the Chap. XV.] IMPORTAKCE ILLUSTRATED. 297 earth loud sounds resembling discharges of artillery or volcanic ex- plosions were now distinguishable amidst the watery tumult and added terrors to the abyss from which they issued the sun looking majestically through the ascending spray was encircled by a radiant halo whilst fragments of rainbows floated on every side and mo- mentarily vanished only to give place to a succession of others more brilliant looking backwards i saw the niagara river again be- come calm and tranquil rolling magnificently between the tower- ing cliffs that rose on either side and receiving showers of orient dew-drops from the trees that gracefully overarched its transpar- ent bosom. n. There was not the smallest accident that befell king charles the second in his exile but cromwell knew it perfectly well a gentle- man who had served the unfortunate charles the first desired leave of cromwell to travel and obtained it on condition that he would not see charles stuart on arriving at cologne however the gentle- man broke his promise and sent a message to the exiled king re- questing that he might wait on him in the night which was granted having discoursed fully on the affairs of his mission he received a letter from the king which he concealed within the crown of his hat and then took his leave on his return to england he waited on cromwell with confidence and being asked if he had punctually performed his promise he said he had but said cromwell who was it that put out the candles when you spoke to charles stuart this unexpected question startled him and cromwell proceeding asked him what he said to him to which the gentleman answered he said nothing at all but did he not send a letter by you replied the pro- tector the gentleman denying this also cromwell took his hat from him drew out the letter and had the unfortunate messenger com- mitted to the tower. Illustrations of the Importance of Correct Punctuation : In Dublin. — An ingenious expedient was devised to save a prisoner charged with robbery, in the Criminal Conrt at Dublin. The principal thing that appeared in evi- dence against hira was a confession, alleged to have been made by him at the Police Office, and taken down in writing by a police officer. The document purporting to con- tain this self -criminating acknowledgment was produced by the officer, and the following passage was read from it : 298 PUNCTUATION. [Part III. " Mangan said he never robbed but twice " Said it was Crawford." This, it will be observed, has no mark of the writer's having any notion of punctua- tion, but the meaning he attached to it was that " Mangan said he never robbed but twice ; " Said it was Crawford." Mr. O'Gorman, the counsel for the prisoner, begged to look at the paper. He perused it, and rather astonished the peace officer by asserting that so far from its proving the man's guilt, it clearly established his innocence. This, said the learned gentleman, is the fair and obvious reading of the sentence : " Mangan said he never robbed. " But twice said it was Crawford," This interpretation had its efEect on the jury, and the man was acquitted. In Baltimore.— a monthly magazine, in the midst of a very valuable and elaborate article, makes the following serious but very stupid criticism : " It is possible that the following, taken from the edicts of the Association of Superintendents on the organization of asylums, may throw some light on the means taken to secure appointments. At a meeting held in Baltimore, May, 1853, the following resolution was adopted ; ' The Board of Trustees _should be composed of individuals dis- tinguished for liberality, intelligence, and active benevolence ; above all, political influ- ence.'^ It is not singular that the American system should become a reproach to us, when such a proposition is to be found among the articles of,". etc., etc. The four words in italics having a comma in their midst, are made to say just what the board did not say, and did. not intend to say ; and the critic, unless intensely preju- diced, must have seen it. The meaning was that the board should be composed of men " above all political influence," in order that appointments may be made impartially and on merit only. The little comma makes the mischief. — New York. Observer. In Vermont. — The Constitution of the State of Vermont, as printed in the general statutes and other official publications for over eighty years, declares that "the Governor, and in his absence, the Lieu ten ant- G-overnor " (in the original Constitution it was the Governor and Council), " shall have power to grant pardons &nd remit fines, in all cases whatsoever, except in treason and murder, in which they shall have power t-o grant re- prieves, but not to pardon until after the end of the next session of the Assembly." This seems to say, distinctly, that the Governor shall not have power to pardon traitors and murderers until after the end of the next session of Assembly ; and by implication it would seem to follow that he may pardon murderers after a session has intervened. The question as to what the Constitution really means in this matter came up in conversation between several gentlemen in the State Library at Montpelier the other day. Mr. Abell, of West Haven, was of the opinion that the Constitution did not intend to give the power of pardon to the Governor at any time in cases of treason and murder, and he fonnd in a volume of Vermont reports an opinion of Judge Williams to that effect. The point was speedily settled by the production by the State Librarian of the first printed copy of the Constitution (printed at Harcford, Conn., in 1779) in which a comma plainly appears after the word "pardon," in the sentence quoted. This makes all clear. The words '*but not to iiardon " are plainly parenthetical, and the meaning is as plain as if it read : he shall have power to grant reprieves (but not to pardon) until after the end of the next session ; or he shall have power to grant reprieves until after the end of the next session, but not to pardon. When the Constitution was next printed, a year or two later, the comma was omitted, doubtless by a careless proof-reader, and from then till now our Constitution has never been correctly printed. Ohap. XV.] IMPORTANCE ILLUSTRATED. 299 This 16 not the first case in which a careless omission or mibstitution of a comma has made an important difference with the meaning and construction of a law. The act of 187(1, providing for the abolishing of school districts, as drawn, required each town in the State to take action in the next March meeting on the qneation whether it would substi- tute the town system for the district system. The Legislature intended that each town should have the subject up in town meeting and take definite action upon it; but a blundering engrossing clerk put in a comma where none belonged, and the act as passed left it optional with the selectmen to put an article in the warnings in reference to the school systemft or not. And in point of fact not a dozen towns in the State acted on the qviestion.—Burlinffton Free Press. In New York.— When the general corporation tax act was under consideration in the Senate an amendment was inserted which exempted from taxation under it "all manufacturing and mining corporations." Afterward, while the bill was in the hands of a conference committee, it was decided to except from this exemption mining companies doing business in other States, but organized in this State, and the exemption proviso was changed to read so as to exempt " manufacturing com- panies, and mining companies carrying on business in this State." The amendment appears with a distinct comma after the words " manufacturing companies," but in engroeelng the reference committee's amendments into the bill the Assembly clerk left out the comma, and the bill as signed by the Governor and filed in the office of the Secretary of State reads so as to exempt " manufacturing companies and mining companies carrying on business in this State." Those manufacturing companies, therefore, which have organized in this State to carry on business elsewhere are liable under the law to a tax of $100 on every $100,000 capital. In the case of one company alone, a glucose manufacturing concern, this tax will be $15,000 a year.— New York Tribune. [The error in this illustration is perhaps the most commonly.dangerous in the use of commas. In the first illustration given the meaning attached by the peace officer required the suppression of the subject of the second verb ; and though the sentence as a whole reads intelligibly when the pause is made after " twice," it reads more naturally when the pause is made after " robbed." In the second illustration, the comma after "above all" requires the insertion of *' for" before "political influ- ence" (see p:ige Ivi) ; so that if the illustration as printed was drawn by a person careftal in his use of English, one might be sure it was erroneously reported. In the third illustration, the omission of the comma after "pardon" makes at best an obscure sentence. But in this illustration there is absolutely nothing except the presence or the absence of the comma to indicate the meaning of the law-makers. In either form, the sentence is correct and perspicuous. Sse page 270, B.] On 'Chanoe. — Into the action, the original question of the guilt or innocence of Mr. Sewell does not enter. It is the regularity or irregularity of the action of the Governing Committee and the officers of the Exchange thereupon which is at issue, and practically may be called a question of a comma. It all hinges on the reading of Article XX. of the Constitution of the New York Stock Exchange, which is : Should any member bo guilty of obvious fraud, of which the Governing Committee shall be the judge, he shall, upon conviction (hereof, by a vote of two-thirds of the mem- bers of the said committed present, be expelled, and his membership shall escheat to the Exchange; subject, however, to the provisions of Article XIV. of the Constitution as legards the claims of members of the Exchange, who are creditors of such persons. 300 PUNCTUATION. [Part III. John L. Logan, Mr. Sewell's lawyer, discusBing the case, said : . . " It is a plain question of law only. We claim that the plain meaning of Ar- ticle XX. ie that it requires a vote of two-thirds of the Groverning Committee present to convict a member of obvious fraud, and that no such vote was had in Mr. Sewell's cape. There was simply a majority vote on his conviction. The two-thirds vote obtained was on his expulsion. In their answer the defendants admit every material point claimed by us except the legal one which we make as to the construction of that article. From our point of view no person conversant with the English language can doubt that our reading is the correct one." . . . Robert Sewell, who represents the Stock Exchange, said : " We contend that to a proper understanding of Article XX. the words upon conviction thereof are entirely superfluous, and upon well-grounded rules of grammatical construc- tion, the verb sAaii governs he expelled, so that it might read, shall by a vote of tV)o-thvrd% of the said coimnittee present, be expelledy—New ^ork. Sun. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. RULES DEPENDENT ON JUDGMENT. VIII. The Comma may be used — a. To separate adverbial phrases that break connection, p. 379. i. Commas required, p. 279. ii. Commas not required, p. 379. iii. Commas used or not according to taste, p. 280. iv. Commas used or not according to meaning, p. 280. 37. Adverbs distinguished from conjunctions, p. 381. b. To separate the subject from the predicate, only when — i. The subject ends with a verb, p. 382. ii. The subject is long and involved, p. 283. 38. Use of the comma sometimes imperative, p. 283. 39. Comma sometimes compels attention, p. 38iJ. 40. Punctuation of a subject of several clauses, p 283. c. To separate the object from the predicate, only to relieve from manifest ambiguity, p. 284. d. Before "that," introducing several propositions, p. 284. 41. Before "that" after "maxim," "rule," "fact," etc., p. 284. 42. Before "that" after the verb "to be," p. 284. 43. Before "that" when the introduetory clause is long, p. 284. e. To separate co-ordinate clauses, where each thought is distinct, p. 284. Chap. XV.] TOPICAL ANALYSIS. 301 i. No point used, p. 285. ii. The comma used, p. 286. iii. The semicolon used, p. 286. 44. Clauses divided by commas are separated by semi- colons, p. 287. iv. The colon used, p. 287. 45. Clauses divided by semicolons are separated by colons, p. 388. 46. The colon often separates a summarizing clause, p. 288. 47. Namely, as, etc., preceded by a semicolon and followed by a comma, p. 288. V. The sentence divided into two or more sentences, p. 288. f. To set off dependent clauses when the connection is not close, p. 289. i. Relative clauses when not restrictive, p. 289. 48. Barely, to separate restrictive clauses, p. 290. 49. Distinction in the use of the relative pronouns, p. 291. ii. Other dependent clauses, unless the meaning is unmis- takable, p. 293. i. The comma used, p. 295. 50. Clauses denoting cause or result often require the colon, p. 296. ii. The comma omitted, p. 296. PART IV. THE ESSAY PART IV. THE ESSAY. CHAPTEE XVI. PREPARATION. Speak not at all in anywise until yon have somewhat to speak ; care not bo much for the reward of your speaking, but simply and with undivided mind for the truth of your speaking. — Cablyle. Reproduction vs. Creation. — Thus far the stu- dent has been directed toward the expression of ideas al- ready conceived. In Conversation one gets new thoughts ; he develops and defines his own : bnt the material he uses is the accumulation of his previous life, the sum-total of his culture to the moment of speaking ; instruction can do little more than help him to make this matei'ial available. In Letter-Writing, and in Narration and Description car- ried beyond correspondence into more formal literature, the material is still experience — what one has seen and heard and felt. The most one can hope is perfectly to re- pi-oduce. But in the Essay one creates. The first task is not to express ideas, but to get them. The essay is at basis a judgment. To describe intelligently an occurrence or a 306 PREPARATION. [Part IV. scene, one needs principally to have observed keenly, and to have remembered discriminatingly. But to write an essay, one should be thoroughly acquainted with the sub- ject itself and with what others have said of it, should have pondered it, should have reached a definite opinion, and should be able to maintain that opinion. This involves another and a higher set of faculties, a different and a more difficult labor. SELECTING A SUBJECT. Pbopbk Subjects foe Oomposetion. — Hence the early composi- tions of pupils should be based on narration and description. Ab- stract general topics are meaningless to them. Pew first efibrts of the kind have the vigor of one recalled at an Oberlin commence- ment : About Virtue.'— YirtTie is a good thing to get a holt of. Whenever a feller gets a holt of virtue, he better keep' a holt. Bombastio Commonplaces. — ^Many pupils put together a compo- sition as they would a bouquet, seeking in memory or in books for elegant phrases to arrange, and as little undertaking to ori- ginate an idea as to construct a moss-rose. Hence the humorist does not need to exaggerate when he calls the following "Phono- graphic Echoes from Commencement." Man is the architect of his own fortunes. In all the sweeping currents of human events, in all the aspirations anrl ambitions of other ages, how nobly — ^ight brings out the stdi'S. [It also brings out the bugs, but the essay neglected to say so. — Ed.] It is only when sorrow and mi^ortune have darkened our lives that the brighter traits of character, the God-like instincts of man's nature shine forth amid the surrounding gloom, like — The press and the ballot-box, the great palladium of human liberty, what power is theirs in moulding the national characteristics, what has been their influence as agents of civilization, what do we see — As we glance back across the wide unfolding centuries that stretch between us and the buried ages of the past, how the ruins and wrecks of the grandeur of man in his proud- est estate, in his — Life, like a mighty river, springing in unseen fountains deep in some mountain glen, meandering, a ceaseless sparkling rivulet, through verdant meadows and adown many steeps, and at length — Chap. XVI.] COMMENCEMENT ECHOE^. SOt To-day we stand upon the threshold of life, ready to cross it with impatient feet, and as we strain our eyes to pierce the curtain of the future, our hearts tell us that — What man has done, man can do. All that the past has taught us, all that the liveB of the great and good in other ages have done for us, aU that the pages of history, in the stormy times of old — Thucydides, towering high above ordinary men in an age that counted among its leaders and teachers such poete and artists and statesmen as Sophocles and ^schylus, Phidias, Zeuxis and Parrhasius, Herodotus and Xenophon, Thucydides, himself great among the great, is said to have remarked — But what, let 'u8 ask ourselves, were the motives of Alexander in these brilliant achievements ? When we consider that no other conqueror ever effected so much in so short a time, and when we reflect that the only motive that led him to carry war and bloodshed and terror into almost every part of the then known world, was cold, selfish, inhuman ambition, we are led to exclaim with the immortal Washington — '^ JBeaven from all creatures hides the book of fate.'''' , And although often we would fain penetrate the veil of the future, yet at length, in the wisdom of riper years, taught in the rugged school of experience, we yield to — Man, helpless in himself, untaught by the instinct of the lower animals, incapable in his natural condition of protecting himself, a prey to the elements and at the mercy of the beasts of the fi^ld, yet aided, developed, and elevated by the creating art of his own brain and the skill of his own hands, he is found — Among the ancient Greeks, where wisdom, statesmanship, and art have been handed down to US through the centuries, it was considered one of the highestand first duties of the citizen to provide for — Woman, heaven's last, best gift to man, what is her mission ? What is the life-work waiting for her earnest, patient hands ? ' The hand that rocks the cradle truly may shake the world ; her strength is gentleness, her courage is confidence, and she walks — On the broad ocean of life we launch our bark fearlessly ; we face the storms as we welcome the sunlight, and serene and confident amid the changing ciurents and baflling winds, we spread our sails and boldly hold our — Knows he, who knoweth himself, the first principles of human knowledge ? The man who— Blows the wind never so ill that it blows no good to some one. Across the broad ocean of life, into our very faces the tempests may howl, but the fearless sailor meets, the storm and calmly trims his — Corn is king. To-day more than ever before, the agiicultural interests of the country are overshadowing all others, until as we contemplate them in their immensity — We say farewell. To you, whose patience and wisdom has led as with gentle hands along the dizzy steeps of learning's hill, and to you, dear classmates, whose cheerful — Burlington Eawkeye. 'Familiar Subjects. — Moreover the narration and description should be about what immediately concerns or has impressed the pupil. Sympathy with childhood will keep ever in mind that the youthful imagination is eager, active, but limited. This last fact is important, but it is often forgotten. Some verses which have been the rounds of the newspapers illustrate it ; 308 SELECTING A SUBJECT. [Part IV. I was sitting in the twilight, With my Charley on my knee (Little two-year-old, forever Teasing, " Talk a 'tory, pease, to me") — *' Now," I said, " talk me a 'tory,*' " Well," reflectively, " Til 'mence. Mamma, I did see a kitty, Great — big — kitty, on the fence." Mamma smiles. Five little fingers Cover up her laughing lips. " Is 00 laughing ? " " Yes," I tell him, But I kiss the finger tips, And I Bay, "Now, tell another." " Well,"" all smiles, " now I will 'mence. Mamma, I did see a doggie, Great — big — doggie, on the fence." '* Eather similar, your stories, Aren't they, dear ? " A sober look Swept_across the pretty, forehead, Then be sudden courage took, ** But I know a nice, new 'tory, 'Plendid, mamma I Hear me 'mence. Mamma, I— did — see— a — elfunt, Great— big— elfunt, on the fence I " Active and bold as is little Charley's imagination, it is limited Cat, dog, and elephant are all sitting on the fence. Moreover, children's ideas of the relations of things are of the vaguest, as theif interminable questions are continually showing. One day I sat in a car sent on the Saugus branch of the Eastern road behind a pale, care-worn lady who was taking a little boy from Boston to Maiden. As the little boy was of a very inquiring mind, and everything seemed to attract his attention, I could not help listening to some of his questions. " What is that, auntie ? "" the little boy commenced, pointing to a stack of hay on the marsh. " Oh, that's hay, dear," answered the care-worn woman. " What is hay, auntie ? " *' Why, hay is hay, dear." " But what is hay made of ? " ' ' Why, hay is made of dirt and water and air." ''Who makes it?" " God makes it, dear." *' Does he make it in the day-lime or in the night ? " " In both, dear.*' ** And Sundays?" *' Yes, all the time." *' Ain't it wicked to make hay on Sunday^ auntie ? " Chap. XVI.] CHILDREN'S IDEAS. 309 " Oh, I don't know. I'd keep still, Willie, that's a dear. Auntie is tired,'* After remaining quiet a moment, little Willie broke out : " Where do stars come from, auntie ? " " I don't know ; nobody knows." *' Did the moon lay 'em ? " " Yes, I pruesB so," replied the wicked lady. " Can the moon lay eggs, too ? " " I suppose so. Don't bother me 1 " A short silence, when Willie broke out again : "Benny says oxina is an owl, auntie ; is tbey ? " "Oh, perhaps so I " "I think a whale could lay eggs— don't you, auntie?" " Oh, yes ; I guess so," said the shameless woman. " Did you ever see a whale ou his nest ? " " Oh, I guess so." "Where?" " I mean no. Willie, you must be quiet ; I'm getting crazy ! " " What makeg you crazy, auntie ? " " Oh, dear, you ask so many questions." " Did you ever see a little fly eat sugar? " " Yes, dear." "Where?" "Willie, sit down on the seat and be still or I'll shake you. Now, not another word ! " And the lady pointed her finger sharply at the little boy, as if she was going to stick it through him. There are 8,0UU,000 little boys like Willie in the United States.— ^rocZora (Jazette. This is shown by the inconsecutiveness characteristic of com- positions on any but thoroughly familiar subjects. Thus : t:he elephant. The elephai) t is very large and weighs four or five pounds. He is so strong that he can carry a trunk, and people build houses on his back. His legs are as large as pillows, and his trunk is made of knife-handles and other things carved out of ivory. He is veiy wild and fierce, and he is easily frightened by the sight of man, but he can climb up a tree. He is also very tame. THE FARRAGTJT PAGEANT. Farragut Pageant was a very wise man and a great war man to, he would fight the battle the best of any man, and most always he spent his time on the sea. Admiral Farragut he was an ofercer of the navy, he was very much respected by his men he died a good christain hia Family to prosesion of his fumel he was laid in his resting last friday. — lovingly bear the nation's dead in battle or peace he was still the same ever most true to his countrya call all honor to farraguts noble name loved by the lovely revered by all tenderly lay him down to rest scatter sweet flowers oer his brest droop the proud banner he bravely defended Boom the loud gun for the noble lofe ended. Suggestions. — An experienced teacher says : '* The wise com- position teacher will strive to enlist in behalf of his own departs 310 SELECTING A SUBJECT. [Part IV. ment the pleasure and delight of acquisition so natural to youth. His way to acconaplish this is clear, but not always easy. He must know what things his boys and girls will take pleasure in finding out, and must be able to guide them to the sources of knowledge. Then he must catch the favorable moment, when some interesting item of knowledge is in the pupil's mind, in its nascent state, and secure a composition. The main thing in a good composition is that it be original and spontaneous. Therefore give the pupil something to discover ; and while the discovery is stiU fresh, and his mind is still warm with it, let him report. . . . " I have had good compositions written on such themes as these : — I have invited my pupils to explore the interesting features of Boston, its antiquities, its hospitals, its charities, its museums, and to report to the class what they had learned. This takes them out of a Saturday forenoon or afternoon, and almost invariably makes a gush of material for a composition. Such compositions have an interesting objective character. They are flavored with the realities of life. One pair of girls — they usually go in pairs of course^-at the Historical Society's rooms last year met the Mayor, who took an interest in their errand and showed them memorable attentions. Another pair, at the old State House, were frightened to find the Bostonian Society in session, but nevertheless they were made welcome and were shown everything. They have been even so far as Pilgrim Hall in Plymouth, and have enlarged their knowledge in the most legitimate way. When Eev. Edward E. Hale took a class of them out to Concord, composition matter was created in unmanageable quantities. In the hospitals their sym- pathies were moved. So also in th^ institutions for the relief of poverty, for the care of infants, for the protection of the helpless. These girls are to become women. The knowledge of most worth to women is not all conveyed in the school curriculum. Some little true glimpse of life and its realities they can get in this way, " In the pleasant months pupils should be encouraged to get their themes out of doors. What is the Bussey Institution ? What are the Middlesex Fells? A Search for Hepaticas, or for Arbutus : How to Show Boston to a Stranger : Parker Hill : His- torical Eeminiscences of my Walk to School, etc., etc." Chap. XVI.] THE KIND OF SUBJECT. 311 The Topic to be Discussed. — It is a general rule that the subject should be something in which one already has a real interest. Indeed, it will seem more practical if one has already a pronounced opinion upon it, especially an opinion that has met with opposition. Thus, whether it has improved the game of base-ball that every pitch is either a " call " or a " strike " ; whether it is worth a boy's while to go to college ; whether the modern circus is a benefit to the public ; whether Jo was the best worth knowing of the " Little Women ; " whether the horse-cai-s ought to run on Sunday : questions like these, M^hich have been topics of discussion already, will assume a reality in the essay that would be wanting to themes further re- moved from the pupil's daUy thought. On the other hand, care must be taken that these topics receive a treatment neither personal nor trivial. While the subject should be associated as closely as practicable with the pupil's daily life and thought, it should never lack dignity. It may be upon an every-day subject, but it should call forth the pupil's best effort. Literary and Historical Subjects have a certain advantage, providing the book or the event be thoroughly familiar. No one can study carefully the story of Charles I. without forming an opinion as to whether or not it was right to execute him. If the reading has been extensive enough, it will prove an interesting and profitable task to meet upon either side of the question the arguments brought forward on the other. But such topics must be limited and specific. I would not assign to a girl of fifteen as a theme for a compo- sition, "Ignatius Loyola," and then advise her to consult Kanke's " History of the Popes " to get the needed infoi-mation. The girl of fifteen, as I know her, would not do more than transfer some- thing from Eanke to her own pages : she would care nothing for 312 SELECTING A SUBJECT. [Pakt IV. Loyola. You would get a composition ; you would mark it ; but you must have been asleep if you thought it did the girl any good. The composition must first of all be original. Therefore the theme must be such as high-school youth can treat originally. I saw a girl the other day in her home making a composition on " John Milton " — a very bad kind of theme. She held in her left hand Brooke's " Milton " and in her right her pen. The mental process that was going on was not composition. The reason why John Milton was a bad theme was that it was too vast. Unless prevented by vigilant supervision, pupils will even write on authors of whose works they have read nothing, drawing solely from en- cyclopaedia articles and similar sources. Pupils ought to learn the ethioS of authorship. There is no rule requiring an essay to be brilliant : but it must be honest. A pupil writes, e.g., ou Goldsmith's " Traveller." She remarks that " the Traveller is the most ambitious of all Goldsmith's poems," and yet she has not read another one. This affectation of general- izing taints many a juvenile production. The exercise becomes morally injurious unless the teacher reproves and prohibits such transgressions, calling them by their right names. — S. Thukber. The obvious and the only preventive of the evils which I have been speaking of is a most scrupulous care in the selection of such su''jecLs for exercises as are Hkely to be in- teresting to the student, and on which he has (or in.iy with pleasure, and without much toil, acquire) sufficient information. Such subjects will of course vary, according to the learner's age and intellectual advancement ; but they had better be rather below, than much above him ; that is, they should never be such as to induce him to s-tring together vague general expressions, conveying no distmct ideas to his own mind, and second-hand sentiments which he does not feel. He may freely transplant indeed from other writers such thoughts as will take root in the soil of his own mind ; but he must never be tempted to collect dried specimens, — Whately. How to Subdivide a Subject. — One of the first habits to be acquired is that of examining a subject in different aspects, and selecting some feature limited enough in scope to be treated intelligently within a given limit. CiiAudb's "Topics." — The following "Topics to Open Sources of Observation " are often quoted from the " Essay on the Compo- sition of a Sermon," by the Kev. John Claude : Chap. XVL] SUBDIVISION. 313 1. " Bise from species to genus," or from partlcularB to generals. 2. "Descend from genus to species," or from generals to particulars. 3. " Remark the divers characters of a vice which is forbidden, or a virtue which is commended," i.e., the qualities, characteristics, and concomitants of vices and virtues. 4. " Observe the relation of one subject to another." 5. *' Observe whether some things are not supposed which are not expressed," e.g., when we speak of a change, the terminus from which necessarily supposes the terminus to which, and so the reverse. 6. "Reflect on the persons speaking or acting," on their oflQce, country, education, name, character, etc. 7. "Reflect ou the state of the persons speaking or acting," i.e,, the condition, or cir- cumstances, or mood of mind of the person. 8. " Remark the time of a word or action," including the time when a precept is to be observed. 9. " Observe place." 10. " Consider the persons addressed." 11. " Examine the particular state of the persons addressed." 12. " Consider the principles of a word or action," i.e., from what motive, afEeotion, passion, or conviction, the person spoke or acted, 13. "Consider consequences," i.e., the uses or abuses of a doctrine, the applications or perversions, the influence or tendency of truths, errors, etc 14. " Reflect on the end proposed in an expression or action," i.e., the aim, purpose, or scope of it. 15. " Consider whether there be anything remarkable in the manner of speaking or acting," e.^., "More than conquerors," '-Before Abraham was, I am," etc. 16. " Compare words and actions with similar words and actions," i.e., those of the same person on different occasions. 17. ■' Contrast words and actions," of different persons by way of antithesis. 18. " Examine the grounds or causes of an action or expression ; and show the truth or equity of it." 19. " Remark the good and bad in expressions and actions." 20. *' Suppose things." 21. " Guard against objections." 32. " Consider characters of majesty, meanness, infirmity, necessity, utility, evidence," etc. 23. " Remark degrees,'' i.e„ in error, ignorance, and gnilt. 24. " Observe difEerent interests." Thus when the Lord Jesus healed the withered hand in the synagogue on the Sabbath, the divine Healer, the afflicted man, and the Herodians and the Pharisees had different interests in the miracle. Each regarded it in the light of his own character and desires. 25. "Distinguish, Define, Divide." 26. " Compare the different parts of the text together." Logical Method is, according to Dr. Beck, a union of cognitions determined by the internal relations of things ; in other words, by the necessary interdependence of being or substance, and attribute and accidents, of cause and operation or effect, of condition and conditional, of ends and means. This is distinguished by him from the geographi- cal and chronological method, which is based on external relations of objects in time and space. Definition, in pure logic, relates to the contents of a conception ; division to its extent. To divide logically is to represent the objects which a conception comprehends, both in their relation to each other, and in their relation to the concept itself. The office 314 SELECTING A SUBJECT. [Part IV. of logical division ia to regard a conception as a genus, and to resolve it into its several Bpecies, or to subordinate the particular to the general, a case to its rule, and an inference to a universal proposition ; consequently this kind of division involves the following ele- menLs: 1, A given conception, or the divisible whole ; 2, a principle of division ; that is, some general attribute of the divisible whole, which determines the character of the di- vision. As we reflect upon a given conception from various points of view, we discover in it different principles of division. Thus we get collateral divisions. Man, for exam- ple, may be variously divided. We may take as the principal of division, either his na- tionality or rehgion, or morality, or mental qualities, or occupations. In each division the given conception, man, is the same ; but for each new principle we adopt, we get a difEerent set of members of division, or specific differences, or various particulars. Each member of a division may itself be regardeii as a divisible whole from which a sub- ordinate division may be derived. Thus we get subdivisions which may be subjected to the same dividing process to almost any extent. That division to which a subdivision is immediately eubovdinate, is called a eiiperior division. The division which comprehends all the different series of subdivisions is called- the fundamental or primary division. As to the order of division. Dr. Beck's precept is : In the fir^t place elucidate the given conception by a complete definition ; secondly, settle the principle of division, which must be an essential attribute of the given conception ; next determine by this principle the several species of the divisible whole ; then take each species in turn as a divisible whole ; again settle a principle of division, and determine the several subordi- nate species, and thus advance till the process is complete. Hence, as Ziegler teaches, it is an offence against logical method when a preacher, e.ff., upon the proposition, *'Why is it necessary to bridle the tongue ? " builds this as a subdivision, " What is it to bridle the tongne ? " The laws of logical metho 1 are worth remembering, as they coubtitute the ground- works of rhetorical method, " It is the fundamental tendency of the mind," as Dr. Beck observes, '* to refer its manifold conceptions each to its own category, and thus reduce them to unity in order to comprehend them. Hence it is the logical method only which can satisfy the deepest wants of the human understanding."— Hervet. Specimen Subdivision. —The advantage of sub- division will be apparent on examination of the following scheme for the study of the poems of Oliver Wendell Holmes, prepared for the Unity Club, Chicago. The stu- dent that had for a subject nothing more specific than the name of the poet would write a vague and valueless essay ; but from the fifty limited topics suggested, he can select at least one or two that he can discuss with hope of say- ing something. The page-references are to the "Household Edition," unless the -letters I. G. are added to indicate the recent collection called " The Iron Gate and other Poems." Chap. XVI.] SPECIMEN SUBDIVISION. 315 I. HOLMES AT HOME. ' What if a hundred years a^o, Those cloae-ehut lips had ansioered, 2fo I " PAGE PAGE Dorothy Q., . . 243 Contentment, . 170 Family Rbooed, 315 Rhymed Lesson, . 67-^0 Old Cambkidqb, . 3(14 The Study, . 100 LtTCT, 298 Old Man Dreams, 210 Opening Piano, . . 181 Meeting of Fbiends, 293 MooEE Centennial, I. &., . , 53 Hearing Show-Line, 248 Lending Punch-Bowl, 30 Iron Gate, I.' G., 5 The School-Boy, I.G., 66 Epilogue, a.d. 1972, 206 Once Mobe, 223 Conversation. — For your picture of the man watch him at the Breakfast Table (" Autocrat "—" Professor "—" Poet ") and in others' sketches, as well as in the poems above. In " Poetic Lo- calities of Cambridge " he describes his old home. Your impres- sion of the man — his face, manner, character — from his writings ? Which part of his advice in the "Rhymed Lesson" hits your best friend ? — Notice how often the old-age thought comes over Holmes. How came a boy to write " The Last Leaf ? " Is fifty old? Com- pare with his "Snow-Line"' other old-age poems, — Emerson's "Terminus," Whittier's' " St. Martin's Summer," Longfellow's "Morituri Salutamus," and his "Personal Poems" in "In the Harbor." II. THE FMEND. " Wh£n you were Bill and I was Joe.''* page Bill and Joe, . . . . 207 Ad Amicus, Indian Summer, 211 Last Survivor, I. G. Two Boys, . 213 Abhp. and Gil Blas, F. W. C, . 218 The Shadows, I. G., Oldest Pbiend, . 220 Jas. F. Clarke, I. G. All Here, 222 A Good Time Going, Old Cruiser, , 226 45 57 169 Conversation. — Which is the best of the Class-Poems ? Is it a sad or a merry series to read ? — Identify his friends and class- mates, if possible (the Triennial Catalogue of Harvard College may help) ; and such allusions, all through, as — 316 6 SELECTING A SUBJECT. [Part I PAGE PAGE three-decker brain, . . . 213 romancer. Magnolia, .108 the laugher, etc., . . 214 St. Anthony, 181 the linguist, etc., . i . 41 the MarBeillaise, . 20 Joe, Bill, F. W. C, etc. gray chief. 145 HI. THE DOCTOR. " fle's Itilled the Squire— Hell kill the Deacon, too." •' Those grand apecifics Nature gave Were never poised by weights and scales." PAGE PAGE Comet, . . 9 Nat. San'y Assoc., . . 146 Stethoscope Song, . . 43 Two Abmies, 162 Mind's Diet. . . . 105 R. V. Winkle, M.D., . 380 MiBTEEioDS Illness, 115 Medical Poem, 45 Living Temple, . . .143 Gbati Chief, . 145 Rights, 19S The Wares, 271 De. S. G. Howe, . 299 Conversation. — Compare bis " Meohanism in Thought and Mor- als," and essays in " Currents and Counter-Currents ; " and for heredity his " Elsie Venner " and "Guardian Angel." — Should you like him for a doctor ? What sort of doctor's-talk and medi- cine would you expect from him? — Does the " Two Armies" refer to soldier and physician ? — Are there any worthy poems by amy one on the Human Body, — its marvel ? — ^What other doctor-poeta or doctors famous in literature are there ? IV. THE PATRIOT. '* Ay, tear her tattered ensign down 1 PAGE PAGE DOBCHESTEE GlAKT, . , . 7 Bbothee J. TO Sister C, . 153 Robinson of Leyden, . 18(1 Under Wash'n Elm, 154 Agnes, . 39 Abmy Hymn. . 155 Boston Tea-Pabti, 247 Sweet Little Man, 167 Bunker Hill, . 300 Union and Liberty, . 158 Amer. Acad. Cent'l., I. G., 62 Good Ship Union, 216 Old Ironsides, . 1 Chaeles Sumnee, . . 275 Boston Bells, 53 GovEBNOB Andrew, 298 Boston Common, . 161 How Not to Settle It, . . 237 Vestigia Quinque, I. G., 10 Japanese Banquet, . 268 Chap. XVI.] SPECIMEN SXTBDIVISION. 317 Convei-sation. — Is our early history rich or poor in romance ? — "Why no Abolition poems? — Do his war-poems stir you? Com- pare with Lowell, Whittier, and Longfellow on similar themes. The two boy-poets of " Old Ironsides " (see p. 20) and " Thana- topsis," V. THE POET. "Aathe seasora '■ slid along, Every year a page notch of song." PAGE To Mt Beadebs, . xi. Poem to Ordeb, 288 Sympathies, 191 Smiling Listener, 229 Mdsa, . 163 Familiar Letteb, . 306 Even Song, 227 Atlantic Dinner, 296 OPENIKG THE WlKDOW, 241 Wobdswoeth, . . 127 PROGRAMME, 241 Burns, . ... 150 Old Yeah Sokq, . 243 Bryant, . 269 SiLEHT Melody, I. G., 80 Longfellow, 363 Voiceless, . 141 Whittier's Birthday, I. G., . 27 Conversation. — What poems of Nature do you find? Has he the poet's eye for Nature ? What think you of his Spring and Autumn pictures (99, 165, 243) ? — Compare Holmes's ideal of the Poet and his Mission with that of other poets. Is poetry an ear- nest business or a pastime to him ? VL THE WIT. " / never dare to write As funny as rcan/^ PAGE PAGE Height op Ridiculous, 12 Pbologue, . 166 Dilemma, 4 Deacok*s Shat, 173 Mcsio Grinders, 9 How Old Hobbe Won, . . 30» Oeqan Blower, S45 Pahson T.'s Legacy, . 178 Oontentment, , . 170 Farewell, Agassiz, . 294 Hot Season, . 84 AuntTabitha, 187 Destination, . 171 What All Think, . . 165 Chanson, 266 Latter-day Warnings, 168 Conversation. — Is it wit or humor ? Does it ever sting ? What geniality or self-control — which is it ? — ^that shows in Holmes ? But do you wish he had used his power to sting some things ? 318 ■ ; SELECTING A SUBJECT. [JPaet IV. Compare Ms fun with Lowell's and Bret Harte's and Hood's. — The imagination of the poet and that of the humorist compared. Does humor steal the sense of beauty away ? Does it imply shallow sympathies? Has Holmes much of. the humorist's pathos? In what poems do you find it ? — Are ' ' metrical essays " to be borne ? Are " occasional " verses — " poems served to order " — often poems ? Has Holmes's good-nature (see " Programme," 242) cost him dear, or not, as poet ? Is he an artist as to words, phrases, and music of verse ? Among our five elder poets, what word or two character- izes him and our debt to him ? Is he a great poet ? By what poems will he be known in- 1972 ? Which shows him at his best, his prose or poetry ? Is not his best poetry in his prose ? What three poems seem his noblest to you ? What three his funniest ? His three best compliments to friends ? Ten familiar quotations ? Better the mottoes chosen above for our half-dozen glimpses, of the poet. The Subject Stated. — A question definitely stated is half settled. So a subject clearly conceived and cir- cumscribed is half treated. One should determine not only the point on which he will write, but the radius of treatment, and hence the circumference of exclusion. The circle may have any degree of extension, for in the world of ideas every object is connected with every other, and may suggest any other. If these suggestions are followed without system or limit, the discourse leads the mind, not the mind the discourse ; and the writer, like the pilot of a helmless vessel, abandons himself to an uncertain voyage, not knowing where he shall land. Therefore; in order to lead and sustain the progress of a dis- course, one must clearly know whence one starts, and whither one goes, and- never lose sight of either the point of departure or the destination. But, to effect this, the road must be measured be- forehand, and the principal distance marks must have been placed. There is a risk else of losing one's way, and then, either one ar- rives at no end, even after much fatigue, productive of intermina- Chap. XVI.] GATHERING MATERIAL. 319 ble discourses leading to nothing, — or if one at last leaches the destination, it is after an infinity of turns and circuits, which have wearied the hearer as well as the speaker, without profit or pleas- ure for anybody. — Bautain. Many speakers resemble the men of an exploring party in a newly settled country, who have no particular object in view ; as long as they do but get over a certain amount of ground, they are careless as to the direction they may have taken, and are not much sui'prised if they find at last that they have been walking in a circle, and have arrived at the very spot from which they origin- ally started : on the other hand, a good speaker may be compared to a native of the same country, who, striking unhesitatingly into the right path, never once pauses or turns aside until he attains the object of his journey. — HAiiOOMBE. GATHERING MATERIAL. It has been said that if the task of describing the hip- popotamus were given to an Englishman, a Frenchman, and a German, the Englishman would take down his gun, sail for Africa, shoot one, examine it, and tell what he had seen ; the Frenchman would ransack the National Library, read all that had ever been written of the animal, and compile a description ; while the German would light his pipe, lean back in his chair, and evolve the hippopotamus out of his inner consciousness. Help That must be Looked Foe. — To define and state the subject will require original reflection ; it will indeed call into use nearly all the previous general prepar- ation of the pupil that can be made available. After he has clearly determined the point to be discussed, the pupil is not advised to evolve out of his inner consciousness any ideas that he can get elsewhere. With all the suggestions that he can derive from books and conversation, he will still have quite enough to do to make his presentation of the subject worthy of attention. His aim is the truth of 320 PREPARATION. [Part IV. the matter ; and he would be as foolish to neglect the landmarks laid down in the books of wise men, as he would to neglect the paths up a mountain or through a forest, trodden by men who had been there-befoi'e, and who knew the way. If the paths do not lead him where he wants to go, he can strike out for himself ; but he will do well to try the paths first. The boy that is too con- ceited to follow a track is likely to be lost in the woods. A speaker at a teachers' association spent half the time allotted to him in apologizing for the revolutionary character of the ideas he was about to be the first to announce. He knew the audience would be startled and shocked ; perhaps it would be indignant. He could only say that his views were reached after the consider- ation of many years. The essay he was about to read was the result of six months' direct preparation. He begged his hearers to be patient with him, and to remember that, however heretical, he was at least sincere. What the consequences of his discovery would be, he could not foresee. That they would be momentous he could not doubt, but he could not shrink from the responsi- bility. The truth must stand, though the skies tumbled. After all this introduction, he proceeded to read a vague and timorous exposition of the theory that mind is a manifestation of physical force : a theory that it was an undoubted achievement for him to have reached unaided, but which had for years been fami- liar to all well-read men in the works of Oomte and Bain. Here was a pitiable waste of mental effort. When the idea first suggested itself to him, he should have reflected that the chance of its being a new hypothesis in the world of thought was infinitesimal ; so he should have searched to find where it had been propounded, wh^her it had been refuted, or what was the present state of the discussion. This investigation might have led him to give up the idea as unworthy of further consideration, or to apply his thinking intelligently. In either case it would have saved him from throwing away his time, and from making himself ridiculous. Chemistry advances because its students make themselves fam- iliar with what others have discovered and fixed, before they Chap. XVI.] HELP THAT MUST BE SOUGHT. 321 choose their own narrow fields for further investigation. There may be among them one or two that could in the course of a life- time discover oxygen for themselves. But why should they waste labor in doing over again what Priestley has done as well as it can be done ? It is for each generation to begin where the last left off, and thus to advance in geometrical ratio. So in composition, the subject having been chosen and limited, the first step is to discover what great minds have thought about it. There will be found enough variance of opinion and difference of treatment to leave exercise for Judgment and taste ; nor will it lessen the possibility of an original contribution to the subject, that the student knows and is inspired by the best thoughts of others. Possession in the Finder'^s Name. — Those who have to treat a subject which has not been treated before, are obliged to draw from a consideration of the subject, and from their own resources, all they have to say. Then, according to their genius and their penetration, and in proportion to the manner in which they put themselves in presence ol the things, will their discourse evince more or less truth, exactitude, and depth. They are sure to be original, since ihey are the first-comers — and, in general, the first view, which is not influenced by any prejudice or bias, but which arises from the natural irapres&ion of the object npon the soul, produces clear and profound ideas, which remain in the kingdom of science or of art as common property, and a sort of patrimony for those who come later. Afterward, when the way is opened, and many have trodden it, leaving their traces behind them, when a subject has been discussed at various times and among several circles, it is hard to be original, in the strict sense, upon that topic ; that is, to have new thoughts— thoughts not expresFed before. But it is both possible and incumbent to have that other species of originality, which cone-ists in put- ting forth no ideas except such as one has made one's own by a conception of one's own, and thus quickened by the life of one's own mind. This is called taking possession in t fie Jlnder^s name : and Moli6re, when he imitated Plautus and Terence; La Fontaine, when he borrowed from ^sop and Phaedms, were not ashamed of the practice. This cohdition is indispensable if life is to be imparted to the discourse ; and it is this which distinguishes the orator, who draws on his own interior resources even when he borrows, from the actor who impersonates, or tlie reader who recites the productions of another. Fusion op the Ideas of Others. — In such a case the problem stands therefore thus : When you have to speak on a subject already treated by several authors, you must care- fully cull their justest and most striking thoughts, analyze and sift these with critical discernment and penetration, then fuse them in your own alembic by a powerful synthetic operation, which, rejecting whatever is heterogeneous, collects and kneads whatever iQ homogeneous or amalgamable. and fashions forth a complex idea that shall assume con- edstency, unity, and color in the understanding by the very heat of the mind's labor. If we may compare things spiritual with things material,— and we always may, since they are governed by the same laws, and hence their analogy, — we would say that, in the formation of an idea by this method, something occurs similar to what is observed in the production of the ceramic or modeller's art, composed of various elements, earths, salts, metals, alkalies, acids, and the rest, which, when suitably separated, sifted, purified, are 322 PREPARATION. [Part IV. first united into one compound, then kneaded, shaped, monlded, or turned, and finally suhjected to the action of the fire, which combines them in unity, and gives to the whole solidity and splendor. — Bautain. Necessity of Wide Ebadin^. — ^^"The orator who speaks after many others, and must treaf the same topic, ought first to en- deavor to make himself acquainted with all that has been written on the subject, in order to extract from the mass the thoughts which best serve his end ; he ought then to collect and fuse within his own thought the lights emitted by other minds, gather and converge upon a single point the rays of those various luminaries. " He cannot shirk this labor, if he would treat his subject with fulness and profundity; in a word, if he is in earnest with his business, which is to seek truth, and to make it known. Like every true artist, he has an intuition of the ideal, and to that ideal he is impelled by the divine instinct of his intelligence to lift Ms conceptions and his thoughts, in order to produce, first in himself, and then upon others, by speaking or by whatever is his vehicle of expression, something which shall forever tend toward it, with- out ever attaining it. For ideas, properly so called, being the very conceptions of the Supreme Mind, the eternal archetypes after which all created things have been modelled with a,ll their powers, the human mind, made after the image of the Creator, yet always finite, whatever its force or its light, can catch but glimpses of them here below, and will always be incapable of conceiving and of reproducing them in their immensity and infinitude." Not too Much Reading. However, care must be taken here not to allow one's self to be carried away by too soaring a train of considerations, or into too vast a field ; all is linked with all, and in things of a higher world this is more especially the case, for there you are in the realm of sovereign unity and universality. A philosopher, meditating and writing, may give wings to his contemplation, and his flight wiU never be too vigorous, provided his intelligence be illuinined with the true light, and guided in the right path ; but the speaker gen- erally stands before an audience who are not on his own level, and whom he must take at theirs. Again, he speaks in a given state of things, with a view to some immediate effect, some defin- ite end. His topic is restricted by these conditions, and his man- Chap. XVI.] HOW AND WHAT TO RRiD. 323 ner of treating it must be subordinated to them, his discourse adapted to them. It is no business of his to say all that might be said, but merely what is necessary or useful in the actual case, in order to enlighten his hearers and to persuade them. He must, therefore, circumscribe his matter within the limits of his pur- pose ; and his discourse must have just that extent, that elevation, and discretion which the special circumstances demand. (See page 318.) Bead, Omnpare, Assimilate. — It is with this aim that the orator ought to prepare his materials, and lay in, as it were, the provi- sions for his discourse. First, as we have said, he must collect the ingredients of his compost. Then he will do what the bee does, which rifles the flowers — exactly what the bee does ; for, by an admirable instinct which never misleads it, it extracts from the cup of the flowers only what serves to form the wax and the honey, the aromatic and the oleaginous particles. But, be it well observed, the bee first nourishes itself with these extracts, digests them, transmutes them, and turns them into wax and honey solely by an operation of ab- sorption and assimilation. Just so should the speaker do. Before him lie the fields of science and of literature, rich in each description of flower and fruit — every hue, every flavor. In these fields he will seek his booty, but with discernment; and choosing only what suits his work, he will extract from it, by thoughtful xea,d.mg, and by the pro- cess of mental tasting (his thoughts all absorbed in his topic, and darting at once upon whatever relates to it), everything which can minister nutriment to his intelligence, or fill it, or even perfume it ; in a word, the substantial or aromatic elements of his honey, or idea, but ever so as to take in and to digest, like the bee, in order that there may be real transformation . and appropriation, and consequently a production fraught with life, and to live. — Bautain. Where to Look. — To know what books to consult upon a given subject is in itself a liberal education. No school or college can do ranch more for a man than to shpw him how much there is to be learned, and how to learn 324 PKEPARATION. [Paet IV. whatever little part of that much it may be worth his im- mediate while to master. As the stranger in town does not attempt to become acquainted with every street, but by consulting a map fixes in mind the main thoroughfares, so as to keep in mind in what part of the city he is, and how he may get to any other part, so one gets from the best education a bird's-eye view of the whole field of knowledge ; he does not know everything, but he knows what steps to take to become acquainted with any- thing. Some General Hints. — In general it may be said that one would naturally consult first a cyclopaedia, two or three cyclopaedias, if so many are at hand. Here will be found not only direct information, but references to the leading books on the subject. These books, if accessible, will re- fer to others, and these in turn to others yet, so that with plenty of time and a large enough library one may hope to hit upon most that is valuable in the literature of the subject. " What, read books ! " said one of the great lights of European physiological science to a not less eminent American scholar, " I never read a book in my life, except the Bible." He had time only to glance over the thousands of volumes which lay around him, to consult them occasionally, to accept the particular facts or illustrations which he needed to aid him in his own researches. — Mabsh. The best way of reading books with rapidity, is to acquire that habit of severe attention to what they contain that perpetually con- fines the mind to the single object it has in view. When you have read enough to have acquired the habit of reading without suffering your mind to wander, and when you can bring to bear upon your subject a great share of previous knowledge, you may then read with rapidity ; before that, as you have taken the wrong road, the faster you proceed the more you will be sure to err. — Sidney Smith, Chap. XVI.] HELP FROM CONVEKSATION. 325 Periodicals, especially the monthlies and quarterlies, are becoming more and more essential to thorough inves- tigation, and more and more accessible, through careful in- dexes. LittelVs Living Age will give one glimpses of the latest thought, and will suggest much not easily found in books. Finally, Conversation is a most important resource. Be- fore one has begun to investigate, while one is investi- gating, and after one has reached and begun to formulate ideas, one will greatly profit by talking the subject over with an intelligent companion. Older persons are often glad to be appi-oached by the young enthusiast, and will not unfrequently suggest more in a minute than might be happened upon in a month. Thackeray illustrates this when he makes Addison say in a con- versation with Henry Esmond : *' One of the greatest of a great man^s qualities is success ; 'tis the result of all the others ; 'tis a latent power in him which compels the favor of the gods, and subjugates fortune. Of all his gifts I admire that one in the great Marlborough, To be brave? every man is brave, but in being victorious, as he is, I fancy there is something divine. In presence of the occasion, the great soul of the leader shines out, and the god is con- fessed. Death itself respects him, and passes by him to lay others low. War and car- nage flee before him to ravage other parts of the field, as Hector from before the divine Achilles, We say he hath no pity ; no more have the gods, who are above it, and super- human. The fainting battle gathers strength at his aspect, and wherever he rides vic- tory charges with him." " A couple of days after, when Mr. Esmond revisited his poetic friend he found this thought, struck out in the fervor of conversa- tion, improved and shaped into those famous lines which are in truth the noblest in the poem of the ' Campaign.' " 'Twas then great Marlbro's mighty soul was proved. That, in the shock of charging hosts unmov'd Amidst confusion, hoiTor, and despair. Examined all the dreadful scenes of war ; In peaceful thought the field of death surveyed, To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid, Inspir'd repuls'd battalions to engage. And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. 326 PREPARATION. [Part IV. So when an angel by divine command With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, Such as of late o'er pale Britannia pa^t, Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm. Ideas Everywhere. — If the ■writer takes the proper hold of his subject, his subject will soon take hold of him, and illustrate itself at every turn. He will be astonished to notice how every incident of his daily life, the morning newspaper, the book he picks up while waiting for lunch, the conversation he "overhears on the horse-car, all have a bearing on the topic that absorbs him. This is from the principle already named, that all ideas are connected. When one has a firm grasp of any one of the multitude he feels the pull upon it of all the rest. Taking Notes. T Always read pen or pencil in hand. Mark the, parts which most strike you, those in which you perceive the germ of an idea or of anything new to you ; then, when you have finished your reading, make a note, — let it be a substantial note, not a mere transcription or extract — a note embodying, the very thought which you have apprehended, and which you have already made your own by digestion and assimilation. Above all, let these notes be short and lucid ; put thejn down one under the other, so that you may afterward be able to run over them at a single view. Mistrust long readings from which you carry nothing away. Our mind is naturally so lazy, the labor of thought is so irksome to it, that it gladly yields to the pleasure of reading other people's thoughts, in order to avoid the trouble of forming any itself; and then time passes in endless readings, the pretext of which is some hunt after materials, and which come to nothing. The mind ruins its own sap, and gets burdened with trash : it is as though overladen with undigested food, which gives it neither force nor light. (See page 322.) Quit not a book until you have wrested from it whatever relates Chap. XVI.] NEW IDEAS DEVELOPED. 327 the most closely to your subject. Not till then go on to another, and get the cream off, if I may so express myself, in the same man- ner. Eepeat this labor with several, until you find, that the same things are beginning to return, or nearly so, and that there is noth- ing to gain in the plunder ; or suppose that you feel your under- standing to be sufficiently furnished, and that your mind now re- quires to digest the nutriment it has taken. — Batitain. Development of the Subject.— Important as it was clearly to define the subject before the investigation began, nnder this treatment it is almost sure to take on an altered aspect, if not a wholly diiferent meaning. It is customary to tell good little boys and girls that genius is only capacity for work ; and that such men as Bacon and Shak- spere and Bonaparte achieved great results only because they formed habits of intense and continued concentration of energy. The moral is, that good little boys and girls must study hard, but, like many other excellent morals, it is enforced at the expense of truth. In the men that have accomplished most, and whom we therefore naturally cite for illustration, genius has usually been aceovipanied by habits of industry. Such men, with a sort of modest self-glorification, have sometimes attributed their achieve- ments to their labor, instead of to the insight that prompted and directed that labor. But there are men in this country that have devoted more iiltense and continued labor to the discovery of per- petual motion than Bacon gave to the "Novum Organon." A half-hour's study in boyhood of an elementaiy text-book of physics would have proved to them beyond the shadow of a doubt that perpetual motion is simply impossible. That half-hour's study they never had, and so they have wasted their lives in butting their heads against one of nature's stone-walls. Now it is the peculiarity of genius that without this half-hour's study it escapes the impracticatble and the irrelevant. It peers beneath the accidents to the essence, and takes the shortest path to the truth sought. Here is an experience common to all of us who have tried to in- vestigate a subject. We flxst think it over, gathering and classifying all that we 328 PREPARATION. [Pabt IV. know about it. Then we begin to read, probably in the direction of supplementing such of our ideas as seem most essential. Under this treatment the subject broadens. "We are surprised to find how its roots extend through every field of knowledge. One au- thority compels us to consult another, until we long to live in the British Museum, and to lay under tribute all books, of all times, in all languages. Presently we reach a point where our new information is of de- tails, and we feel sure that our general analysis is sound and fun- damental. Then we begin to write. And in the very flush of our, wisdom, while we are seeking perchance for an illustration or a happy expression, we encounter a hint, a suggestion, a chance re- mark, which flashes over us the discovery that we are not yet even approaching the kernel of truth we supposed ourselves to have gi'asped ; that we are groping aimlessly about the circumference, and have not found even the path to the centre. Now the man of genius escapes this waste of effort. It is not the quantity of work he does : it is the quality. His eveiy stroke tells, because the eye that directs it is unerring. Hence too much time should not be given to the title and introduction of an essay. The preface of a book is always the last part written, and the wording of the title is often a happy inspiration that comes in the midst of the labor of composition. Not seldom the young writer finds himself in his final revision obliged to omit as extraneous the passages which he has polished the most carefully. His loss is still greater if he does not omit them. Arrangement of Notes.— As notes accumulate, divisions of the subject will suggest themselves, and classi- fication will naturally follow.* This is the more necessary, that differing views on the same point may be closely com- pared, which might easily be neglected in a mass of undi- gested material. But as the principle of classification is almost sure to vary as the investigation proceeds, all the CnAP.-XVL] EMERSON'S LITERARY METHOD; 329 notes should be read over from time to time, and redistri- buted wherever necessary. It has been Bmeraon's habit to spend the forenoon in his study, with constant regn- larity. He has not waited for mood?, but caught them as they came, and used their re- sults in each day's work. He has been a diligent though a slow and painstakuig worker. It has been his wont to jot down his thoughts at all hours and places. The suggestions which result from his readings, conversations, and meditations are transferred to the note-book he carries with him. In his walks many a gem of thought is thus preserved ; and his mind is always alert, quick to see, his powers of observation being perpetually awake. The results of bis thinking are thus stored up, to be made use of when required. The story is told that his wife suddenly awakened in the night, before she knew his habits, and heard him moving about the room. She anxiously inquired if he were ill. " Only an idea," whs his reply, and proceeded to jot it down. Curtis humorously says the villagers " relate that he has a huge manuscript book, in which he incessantly records the ends of thoughts, bits of observation and experience, the facts of all kinds— a kind of intellectual and scientific scrap-bag, into ■' hich all shreds and remnants of conversa- tion and reminiaoences of wayside reveries are incontinently thrust." A-fter his note-books are filled, he transcribes their contents to a larger commonplace book. He then writes at the bottom, or in the margin, the subject of each paragraph. When he desires to write an essay, he turns to his note-books, transcribes all his para- graphs on that subject, drawing a perpendicular line through whatever be has thus copied. These separate jottings, perhaps written years apart, and in widely different cir- cumstances and moods, are brought together, arranged in such order as is possible, and are welded together by such matter as is suggested at the time. Alcott relates going once to his study, to find him with many sheets of manuscript scattered about on the floor, which he was anxiously endeavoring to arrange in something like a systematic treatment of the subject in hand at the time. The essay thus prepared is read before an audience to test its qualitj' and construction. Its parts are frequently rearranged. Perhaps in its construction portions of previously used lectures are made to do new service. Should the lecture come at last to be put into one of his books, it is pruned of all but the telling sen- tences. His lectures which aro rapidly composed, for special occasions, have a continuity and flow of thought quite different from the essays in his books. The address on Lincoln, written in one evening, shows this. The published essays are often the results of many lectures, the most pregnant sentences and paragraphs alone being retained. His apples are sorted over and over again, until only the very rarest, the most perfect are left. It does not matter that those thrown away are very good, and help to make clear the possi- bilities of the orchard : they are unmercifully cast aside. His essays are, consequently, very slowly elaborated, wrought out through days and months, and even years, of pa- tient thought. His essays are all carefully revised again and again, corrected, wrought over, portions dropped, and new matter added. He is unsparing in his corrections, striking out sen- tence after sentence ; and paragraphs disappear from time to time. His manuscript is everywhere crowded with erasures and corrections ; scarcely a page appears that is not covered with these evidences of his diligent revision.— G. W. Cooke. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Reproduction vs. Creation, p. 305. SELECTING A SUBJECT, p. 306. Bombastic commonplaces, p. 306. Familiar subjects, p. 307. The topic to be discussed, p. 811. Literary and, historical subjects, p. 311. How to subdivide a^ subject, p. 312. Specimen subdivision, p. 314. The subject stated, p. 318. GATHERING MATERIAL, p. 319. • Possession in the finder's name, p. 321. Fusion of the ideas of others, p. 321. Necessity of wide reading, p. 322. Not too much reading, p. 323. Where to look, p. 323. Some general hints, p. 324. Ideas everywhere, p. 326. Taking notes, p. 326. Development of the subject, p. 327. Arrangement of notes, p. 328. CHAPTER XVII. INVENTION. Invention, in the rhetorical sense, is that energy of the mind by which we discern ideas and their relations. Vinet likens it to a divining-rod, which enables some minds to discover riches of thought and beauties of language to which other minds are insensible. John Quincy Adams says : " It selects from the whole mass of ideas conceived or stored in the mind those which can most effectually promote the object of discourse ; it gath- ers from the whole domain of real or apparent trath their inexhaustible subsidies to se- cure the triumph of persuasion." Thus it is seen to be "not only an originating, but a constructive faculty. It not only seeks out that which was before unknown ; it also seizes upon old truths and blends them together in new combinations. It finds new pathways through old regions of thought, It never contents itself with what others have done, but insists upon fashioning what is new to itself, whatever uses other minds have made of the same material. — XClDDEn. The Essay Half Done.— The work thns far laid out has demanded nothing of what is commonly looked npon as authorship. It has required judgment, but not more than is needed in a topical geography lesson. With- out considering native talent, its accomplishment depends upon the will-power of any student. Yet it is in amount and in kind the hardest part of es- say-writing. Inertia has been overcome, the student is roused and interested, his mind is full of his subject, he really wants to know' what tlie truth of the matter is, and how to reach it ; if he has had practice enough to over- come his timidity, he is even anxious to begin the active part of composition. Jhe IVIoment of Action. — "It is with the mind as with the body,^ after nourishment and repose it re- quires to act and to transmit. When it has repaired ita 332 INVENTION. [Part IV. strength it must exert it ; when it has received, it must give ; after having concentrated itself, it needs dilation ; it must yield back what it has absorbed ; fulness unre- lieved is as painful as inanition. These are the two vital movements — attraction and expansion." * How to Begin. — The moment this fulness is felt, the moment ' of acting or thinking for yourself has arrived. You take up your notes and you carefully re-read them face to face -with the topic to be treated. You blot out such as di- verge from it too much, or are not sufficiently substantial, and by this elimination you gradually concentrate and compress the thoughts which have the greatest reciprocal bearing. You work these a longer or a shorter time in your understanding, as in a crucible, by the inner fire of reflection, and, in nine cases out of ten, they end by amalgamating and fusing into one another, until they form a homogeneous mass, which is reduced, like the metallic particles in incandescence, by the persistent hammering of thought, into a dense and solid oneness. As soon as you become conscious of this unity, you obtain a glimpse of the essential idea of the composition, and in that essen- tial idea, the leading ideas which will distribute your topic, and which already appear like the first organic lineaments of the dis- coiu'se. Repress Impatience. Sometimes the idea thus conceived, is developed and formed rapidly, and then the plan of the discourse arranges itself on a sudden, and you throw it upon paper warm with the fervor of the conception which has just taken place, as the metal in a state of fusion is poured into the mould, and fills at a single turn all its lineaments. It is the case most favorable to eloquence, — that is, if the idea has been well conceived, and if it be fraught with light. But in general, one must not be in a hurry to form one's plan. In nature, life always needs a definite time for self-organization, — and it is only ephemeral beings which are quickly formed, for they quickly pass away. Everything destined to be durable is of slow growth, and beth the solidity and the strength of 'existing things Chap. XVII.] FIRST STEPS. 333 bear a direct ratio to the length of their increase and the mature- ness of their production. Development of the Idea. The thoughts apply themselves to a frequent consideration of the idea conceived ; they turn it and return it in every direction, look at it in all its aspects, place it in all manner of relations ; then they penetrate it with their light, scrutinize its foundation, and examine its principal parts in succession ; these begin to come out, separate themselves from each other, to assume sharp out- lines, just as in the bud the first rudimentary traces of the flower are discernible ; then the other organic lines, appearing one after the other, instinct with Ufe, or like the confused, first animate form, which, little by little, declares itself in all the finish of its proportions. In like manner, the idea, in the successive stages of its formation, shows itself each day in fuller development to the mind which bears it, and which acquires assurance of its progress by persevering meditation. Reflection upon the Idea. There are frequently good ideas which perish in a man's under- standing, abortively, whether for want of nourishment, or from the debility of the mind which, through levity, indolence, or giddiness, fails to devote a sufficient amount of reflection to what it has conceived. It is even observable that those who conceive with the greatest quickness and facility, bring forth, generally, both in thoughts and in language, the weakest and the least dura- ble productions ; whether it be that they do not take time enough to mature what they have conceived, — hurried into precocious dis- play by the vivacity of their feelings and imagination, — or on ac- count of the impressionability and activity of their minds, which, ever yielding to fresh emotions, exhausting themselves in too rapid an alternation of revulsions, have not the strength for patient meditations, and allow the haK-formed idea or the crude thought, born without life, to escape from the understanding. Much, then, is in our own power toward the ripening and perfecting of our ideas. Organization of the Idea. The preparation of the plan of a discoiirse implies, before any- thing else, a knowledge of the things about which you have to 334 INVENTION. [PiKT IV.-^ speak ; but a general knowledge is not enough ; you may have a" great quantity of materials, of documents, and of information in your memory, and not be aware how to bring them to bear. It sometimes even happens that those who know most, or have most matter in their heads, are incapable of rightly conveying it. The over-abundance of acquisition and words crushes the mind, and stifles it, just as the head is paralyzed by a too great deter-' mination of blood, or a lamp is extinguished by an excess of oil. You must begin, therefore, by methodizing what you know about the subject you wish to treat, and thus, in each discourse, you must adopt as your centre or chief idea, the point to be ex- plained, but subordinate to this idea all the rest, in such a way as' to constitute a sort of organism, having its head, its organs, its main limbs, and all the means of connection and of circulation by which the light of the paramount idea, emanating from the focus, may be communicated to the furthest parts, even to the last; thought, and last word ; as in the human body the blood emerges from the heart, and is spread throughout all. the tissues, animating and coloring the surface of the skin; Thus only will there be life in the discourse, because a true- unity will reign in it, — that is, a natural unity resulting from an interior development, an unfolding from within, and not from an, artificial gathering of heterogeneous members and their arbitrary juxtapositioni — BAtrrAHsr. i Practical Rules. \Ky^l|^ I. Addresfe your mind to the invention of thoughts, not words. Words may be employed, but only as auxiliaries. II. Note down, or otherwise make sure of whatever relevant thoughts your mind can call to its aid, irrespective of order or mainly so. III. At first be not too scrupulous on the subject of relevancy. Entertain whatever seemingly good thoughts come to your aid at your call. Try them, push them out to conclusions. Perhaps if . not available themselves they will lead to others that are. IV. Pursue invention in every variety of circuinstance, in the study and; out of it. -Make it the subject of special and protracted occupation, and also of occasional attention, when walking or rid- Chap. XVII.] ORGANIC GROWTH OF THE IDEA. 335 irig, when taking exercise or rest. One's very dreams at night may sometimes be made serviceable for this object. V. Make use of former studies and preparations as helps to in- vention rather than as substitutes for it. Invention as thus practised will always strengthen but never exhaust itself. It will become a most delightful exercise, causing the mind to glow with rapture at its new creations and combina- tions. While one thus muses (inventively meditates), the fire of inspiration bums within him, and he becomes prepared to speak with his tongue. — Kiddeb. The Plan of a Discourse "is the order of the things which home to he unfolded. You must therefore begin by gathering these together, whether facts or ideas, and examining each separately, in their relation to the subject or purport of the discourse, and in their mutual bearings with respect to it. Next, after having selected those which befit the subject, and rejecting those which do not, you must marshal them aroimd the main idea, in such a way as to arrange them according to their rank a,nd importance, with respect to the result which you have in view. But, what is worth still more than even this com- position or synthesis, you should, try, when possible, to I draw forth, by analysis pr deduction, the complete devel- opment of one single idea, which becomes not merely the centi-e, but the very principle of the rest. This is the best manner of explaining or developing, because exist- ences are thus produced in nature, and a discourse, to have its full value and full efficiency, should imitate her in her vital process, and perfect it by idealizing that process." In fact, reason, when thinking and expressing its thought, per- forms a natural function, like the plant which germinates, flowers, and bears fruit. It operates, indeed, according to a more exalted power, but it follows in the operation the same laws as all beings endued with life ; -and the methods of analysis and synthesis, of 336 INVENTION. [Part IV. deduction and induction, essential to it, have their mutual types and symbols in the vital acts of organic beings, which all proceed likewise by the way of expansion and contraction, unfolding and enfolding, diffusion and collection. The most perfect plan is, therefore, the plan which organizes a discourse in the manner nature constitutes any being fraught with life. It is the sole means of giving to speaking a real and natural unity, and, consequently, real strength and beauty, which consist in the unity of life. Analogy to the Human Body. — In every discourse, if it have life, there is a parent idea or fertile germ, and all the parts of the discourse are like the principal organs and members ,of an ani- mated body. The propositions, expressions, and words resemble those secondary organs which, connect the principal, as the nerves, muscles, vessels, tissues, attaching them to one another and ren- dering them co-partners in life and death. Then amid this animate and organic mass there is the spirit of life, which is in the blood, and is everywhere diffused with the blood from the heart, life's centre, to the epidermis. So in eloquence there is the spirit of the words, the soul of the orator, inspired by the subject, his in- telligence illumined with mental light, which circulates through the whole body of the discourse, and pours therein brightness, heat, and life. A discourse without a parent idea, is a stream without a fountain, a plant without a root, a body without a soul ; empty phrases, sounds which beat the air, or a tinkling cymbal. Not New, hut Newly. — Nevertheless, let us not be misappre- hended ; if we say that a discourse requires a parent idea, we do not mean that this idea must be a new one, never before conceived or developed by any one. Were this so, no more orators would be possible, since already, from Solomon's day, there has been nothing new under the sun, and the cycle of ages continually brings back the same things under different forms. It is not likely, then, that in our day there should be more new ideas than in that of the King of Israel ; but ideas, like all the existences of this world, are renewed in each age, and for each generation. They are reproduced under varied forms and with modifications of circumstances: " it be iDtelligible and transparent — no notice taken of your style, but solely of what you express by it : this is your clear rule, and if you have any- thing which is not quite trivial to express to your contemporaries, you will find such a rule a great deal more difficult to follow than many people think. — Cablyle. Excellent precept ; but, alas for performance ! none ever broke the rule more habitually than Carlyle himself. The idiom which he ultimately forged for himself was a new and strange foi-m of English — rugged, disjointed, often uncouth ; in his own phrase, "vast," fitful, decidedly fuliginous,'' but yet bringing out with marvellous vividness the thoughts that possessed him, the few truths which he saw clearly and was sure of — while it suggested rfot less powerfully the dark background of ignorance against which these truths shone out. — Shaiep. Modern English literature has nowhere any language to compare with the style of these [Newman's Parochial] Sermons, so simple and transparent, yet so snbtle withal ; so strong and yet so tender; the grasp of a strong man's hand, combined with the, trembling tenderness of a wotnan's heart, expressing in a few monosyllables truth which would have cost other men a page of philosophic verbiage, laying the most gentle yet penetrating finger on the very core of things, reading to men their own most secret thoughts better than they knew them themselves. Carlyle's 8t3'le is like the full untutored swing of the giant's arm ; Cardinal New- man's is the assured self-possession, the quiet gracefulness of the finished athlete. The one, when he means to be effective, seizes the most vehement feelings and the strongest words within his reach, and hurls them impetuously at the object. The other, with dis- raplined moderation and delicate self-restraint, shrinks instinctively from overstatement, but penetrates more directly to the core by words of sober truth and " vivid exactness."— SHillBF. 344 STYLE. [Pabt IV. At first sight, Shakspere and his contemporary dramattsts seem to write in styles much alike ; nothing so easy as to fall into that of Massinger and the qthers ; while no one has ever yet produced one scene conceived and expressed in the Shaksperian idiom. 1 -suppose it is because Shakspere is universal, and in fact has no manner ; just an you can so much more readily copy a picture than nature herself. — Oolerid&e, Style is of course nothing else but the art of conveying the meaning appropriately and with perspicuity, whatever that meaning may be, and one criterion of style is that it shall not be translatable without injury to the meaning. ... In order to form a good style the primary rule and condition is, not to attempt to express ourselves in lan- guage before we thoroughly know our own meaning : when a man perfectly understands himself, appropriate diction will generally be at his command, either in writing"or speak- ing. ' In such cases the thoughts and the words are associated. In the next place, pre- ciseness in ihe use of terms is required, and the test is whether you can translate the phrase adequately into simple terms, regard being had to the feeling of the whole pas- sage. Try this upon Shakspere or Milton, and see if you can substitute other simple words in any given passage without a violation of the meaning or tone. The source of bad writmg is the desire to be something more than a man of* sense — the straining to be thought a genius ; and it is just the same in speech-making. If men would only say what they have to say in plain terms, how much more eloquent they would be ! — Colbbidge. On the other hand, there is a view of style that makes it sonietliing more than habitual, natural expression. Thus Matthew Arnold says : , " Style, in my sense of the ■word, is a peculiar recasting and heigMening, under a certain spiritual excitement, a certain press- ure of emotion, of what a man has to say, in such a manner as to add dignity and distinction to it. . . . Power of style, prop- erly so called, as manifested in masters of style, like Dante and Milton in poetry, Cicero, Bossuet, and Bolingbroke in prose, has for its characteristic effect this, to add dignity and distinction to it." The best definitions of style make it consist in the upconscions but unavoidable and indispensable smack of individuality in the writer. The best style is not that which puts the reader most easily and in the shortest time in possession of a writer's naked thoughts, but that which is the truest image of a great intellect — which conveys fully, and carries farthest into other souls, the conceptions and feelings of a profound and lofty spirit. — Channing. Science has to do with things, literature with thoughts ; science Chap. XVIII.] THE STAMP OF INDIVIDUALITY. 345 is universal, literature is personal ; science uses words merely as symbols, and by employing symbols can often dispense witb words ; but literature uses language in its full compass, as including phraseology, idiom, style, composition, rhythm, eloquence, and whatever other qualities are included in.it. — Newman. Literature being a fine art, as I understand it, a literary man can no more help having a style than a painter his ; it may be more or less strongly marked, finished or faulty, but it cannot be wholly bad, or even indifferent. There is an ideal of literary ex- pression which looks upon language as best employed when it be- comes the perfectly transparent medium of thought — like plate- glass, as advocates of this theory phrase it. It is of course always in good taste to be simple, and a plainness approaching to boldness is infinitely better than the " fine " language, so called, indulged in by pseudo-cultivated writers. But I have never been able to accept the plate-glass theory, and cannot help fancying that it is the unconscious refuge of writers and readers without any keen apprehension of the charms of literary style. Ease and unaflfected- ness are indeed prime requisites of a good style, but why should we forego the pleasure to be had from other and more positive qualities than these ? The imperishable charm belonging to cer- tain writers lies in their style ; it is their unique expression of their thought, more than the thought itself, we care for, as witness many of Lamb's most delightful sketches ; and in the most original writers this characteristic quality of expression is so much a part of their genius that it is scarcely possible to separate between sub- stance and form, the ideas and their embodiment. In fact, one is sometimes tempted to call the thought the grosser particle in this combination, or interpenetration, so subtle and exquisite may be the charm of mere words, not only in poetry, but in imaginative prose. — Atlantic Monthly. Take an example, almost at random, from Dc Qulncey. Speaking of the state of English hymnology at a certain period, he calls it "the howling wilderness of psalmody." "Ah," says a pedantic critic, '*that is rhetoric.'' Very well ; strip it of its "rhetoric," and yet express the same idea in its plenitude, if you can. It is impossible. You cannot drop that figure, and yet express the same kind and the same volume of thought. If any one thinks he can, we are very safe in responding, " Try it." A piece of Russia iron is not the same thing when melted and compacted and moulded into a slug. Analyze a fragment from Euskin, whose stylo is often thought personified. He wishes to express vividly the idea that feebleness in art is untruthfulness in effect. He 346 STYLE. [Part IV. writes, therefore, of the " etniggling caricature of the meaner mind, which heaps its fore- ground with colossal columns, and heaves impossible mountains into the encumbered sky." Ruskin here unconsciously imitates his thought by his vocabulary and syntax. Strip it of that imitation of sense by sound and structure, and what have you left ? Say something else than ' ' heaves impossible mountains into the encumbered ;sky." Say this, at a venture, *' A poor artist paints mountains which could never have existed, in a sky which cannot conveniently hold them." Have you parted with nothought in losing the imitative adroitness of Ruskin's style ? In such examples thought so masters expression, and yokes it to use, that style itself becomes thought. You cannot separate them by the changt! of so much as a syllable without loss. — Phelps. We are prone to regard literature as a strictly inteUectual manifestation, when, never- theless, the most conservative or preservative element of literature — humor — is scarcely an intellecuial quality at all. It belongs rather to the emotional side of the mind. The dry light of pure reason has the charm of flattering our self-esteem by giving or seeming to give us an insight into the realities of things ; but it has the defect of wanting individ- uality ; it attains its present stat-e just in proportion as it discards all personal flavor, and approaches a soit of algebraic impersonality. And when an exceptional mind, like Bacon^s, succeeds in burnishing reason into wit, it retains its hold upon our sympathies, not be- cause of its truth, but because that truth is stated with a perspicuity and brilliance pecul- iar to Bacon, depending not upon the extent of Bacon's information, but upon the ad- mirable strength and subtlety of his mental faculties. In order to realize this, we have only to reflect that the same truth, otherwise organized and presented by an inferior in- telligence, would fail to establish a hold upon us. What really fascinates us is not the white unmodified glare of the absolute, but the various-colored rays produced by the pas- sage ol that glare through the finite medium of human minds ; and however diligently the generations of men may celebrate the eternal verities, nothing is more likely than that the eternal verities, considered in themselves, have but the faintest attraction for mankind. It belongs to our natuie that we should be to ourselves of paramount mutual intei'est; and the ground of this interest is humor in its broadest sense. But humor — literary humor especially — has been conventionally limited to a narrower significance than this, and its possession in any noticeable degree is limited to comparatively few writers. Like tone in painting and expression in music, it is a matter of temperament ; and its value, when genuine, is as permanent and as inexhaustible as human nature itself. — T/te Spectator. Naturalness^ therefore, so far from being opposed to style, is the one thing a good style secures. Whenever a man poetically gifted expresses his best thoughts in his best words, then we have the style which is natural to him, and which, if he be a true poet, is sure to be a good style. — Sttatkp. "What is naturalness of style ? We answer, those qualities which are found peculiar to an individual wheii science and art have de- veloped what is good and removed what is bad among his personal characteristics. It is only by knowledge and training that our ji^itural gifts and energies can be discovered $ind distinguished Chap. XVIII.] NATURALNESS. 347 from such wrong prejudices and bad habits as are the results of false instruction early in life. Naturalness may be, and often is, understood to be that quality which is peculiar to an individual, or peculiar to that which is written or spoken by him spontaneously on any occasion, at any pei'iod of life. In this sense the communications of the most ig- norant and immature minds have a seeming naturalness ; but in many cases of this kind it is ultimately fovmd that what seemed natural was sheer affectation, the checkered effect of indiscriminate imitation, or the random effusion of brazen independence, or else the modest mistake of one who has a wrong object or an unwise aim. — Hbbvby. The End in View on the writer's part should be exact expression of his thought. This is a difficult attain- ment. Of all arts the art of speech is most intricate, its mastery most delicate. Some of his sentences will cost the beginner hours, days, weeks. The most clever and experienced writer will weigh synonyms in his mind be- fore he pens his last paragraph. But the artist is distin- guished from the artisan in that he will accept no ill-fitting word or phrase. Long as the search may be, he will turn his thought over and over in his mind till it has clothed itself in the verbal garb that alone befits it. Sydney Smith said of Dr. Parr, " He never seems hurried by his subject into obvious [inevitable] language." In other words, his thoughts wei-e never clearly defined ; he was contented with vague, general, botohy expression. The collocation of words is so artificial in Shakspere and Milton, that you may as well think of pushing a brick out of a wall with your forefinger, as attempt to remove a word out of any of their finished passages. The amotion or transposition will alter the thought, or the feel- ing, or at least the tone. They are as pieces -of mosaic work, from which you cannot strike out the smallest block without mak- ing a hole in the picture. — (^uarterh/ Review.. 348 STYLE. [Paut IV. Cowper possessed above all other modern poets the power of bending the most stubborn and intractable words in the language around his thinking, so as to fit its every indentation and irregu- larity of outline, as a ship-carpenter adjusts the planking, grown flexible in his hands, to the exact mould of his vessel. — Hugh MiLIiEB. We proceed to a more particular examination of that particular quality of style which, renders it intelligible. We denominate it plainness. A thing is plain (planus), when it is laid out open and smooth upon a level surface. An object Is in plain sight when the form and shape of it are distinctly visible. Chaucer, in his " Canterbury Tales," makes the franklin, the English freeholder of his day, to say, when called upon for his story : I never lerned rhetorike certain. Thing that I speke, It mote be bare and plain. This quotation shows that in Chaucer's time rhetoric was the opposite of a lucid and distinct presentation of truth. In his age it had become excessively artificial in its prin- ciples, and altogether mechanical in its applications. Hence the plain, clear-headed Englishman, whose story turns out to be told with a simplicity and perspicuity and racinesB that renders it tnily eloquent, supposed that it must necessarily be faulty in style, because his own good sense and keen eye made it impossible for Mm to discourse in the affected and false rhetoric of the school of that day. For this plainness of style is the product of sagacity and keenness. A sagacious understanding always speaks in plain terms, A keen vision describes like an eye-witness. — Shedd. Once more : Mastery of language includes a retentive control of a vocabulary, and of varieties of English construction, by which they shall always be at hand for unconscious use. Do we not often fret for the right word, which is just outside the closed door of memory ? We know that there is such a word ; we know that it is precisely the word we want ; no other can fill its place ; we saw it mentally a short half-hour ago, but we beat the air for it now. The power we crave is the power to store words within reach, and hold them in mental reserve till they are wanted, and then to summon them by the un- conscious vibration of a thought. Nothing can give it to us but study and use of the language in long-continued and critical practice. It is the alow fruitnge of a growing mind. Walter Scott, for instance, saunters through the streets of Edinburgh, and overhears a word, which, in its colloquial connections, expresses a shade of thought which is novel to him. He pauses, and makes a note of it, and walks on, pondering it, till it has made a nest for itself in his brain ; and at length that word reapp.ears in one of the most graphic scenes in the " Fortunes of Nigel." Washington Irving relates that he was once riding with Thomas Moore in Paris, when the hackney-coach went suddenly into a rut, out of which it came with such a ]oIl as to send their heads bumping against the roof. "By Jove, I've got it ! " cried Moore, clapping his hands in great glee. ** Grot what?" said Irving. "Why," said the poet, "that word which I've been hunting for for six weeks to complete my last song. That rascally driver has jolted it out of me." — Phelps, To afTect a particular style is of course ridiculous. "Whatever possible value an essay may have couies from Chap. XVlll.] NATtJEALNESS. 34$ its expression of the genuine thought of the writer. If his tlioughts be noble, and he be able to give them ade- quate expression, his essay will be noble ; but if his thoughts are trivial, and he tries to express them in such language as some one has used to express noble thoughts, his weazened thoughts will seem all the more shrunken in the flowing word-garments that flap around them. Besides, small thoughts have a place and a value as well as great ones. David conld not fight in Saul's armor, but when fitly clad in his mountain costume he could do execution impossible to the burly king. I aped Johnson, I preached Johnson. It was a youthful folly, a very great folly. I might as well have attempted to dance a hornpipe in the dress of Gog and Magog. My puny thoughts could not sustain the load of words in which I tried to clothe them. — Egbert Hall. Aim at things, and your words will be right without aiming. Guard against love of display, love of singularity, love of seeming original. Aim at meaning what you say, and saying what you mean. — Newman. But if he is a thinker, who has seen some great truths more penetratingly, and has felt them more profoundly than other men have done, then in this sense a thinker Carlyle certainly was. Isolated truths there may have been, but isolated truths were all he oared or hoped to see ; he felt too keenly the mystery of things ever to fancy that he or any other man would see them all in well- rounded harmony. It was just because he saw and felt some truths so keenly, that he was enabled to paint them in words so vividly. It was the insight that was in him which made him a word-painter ; without that insight word-painting becomes a mere trick of words. — Shaiep. An amusing account is given by Lord Macaulay of a criticism by Sheridan upon the style and manner of Mr, Fox and Lord Stormont in the British Parliament. Sheridan had returned one morning from the meeting of Parliament, and a friend asked him for the news of the day. He replied that he had enjoyed a laugh over the speeches of those two men. He said that Lord Stormont bec^an by declaring in a slow, solemn, nasal mono- tone that, "when— he — considered — the enormity — and the — ^unconstitutional — tendency 350 : STYLE. [Pakt IV. — of the measures — just — proposed, he was— hurried — away in a— torrent—of passion — find a — whirlwind— of im-pet-u-os-i-ty." Mr. Fox he described as rising with a spring to his feet, and beginning, with the rapidity of lightning, thus: "Mr. Speaker such is the magnitude such the importance, such the vital interest of the question that I cannot but implore I cannot but adjure the House to come to it with the utmost calmness the utmost coolness the utmost deliberation.'^'' — Phelps. The False Idea that style is something superim- posed, like a cupola, upon a structure that would be com- plete without it, has led to false views of the province of rhetoric, and to false ideals on the part of young writers. " For esteeming any man purely on account of his rhet"t)rio, I would as soon choose a pilot for a good head of hair/' said Sen- eca. But rhetoric is to the statesman what skill is to the pilot. The statesman may be a traitor, in spite of great oratorical ability ; and the pilot may be in league with wreckers, however accurate his knowledge of the coast and of the vessel. But rhetoric will enable the statesman to say what he means, and to say it convinc- ingly, thus insuring him against blundering and weakness ; just as skill will secure the pilot against unwittingly running upon a hid- den rock. That rhetorical skill is not universal or undesirable in office-hold- ers may be inferred from the following official notices. (See also pages 297-300.) The Connecticut Legislature passed a bill for paying the town clerk of New Haven for ':* time spent in deciphering those portions of the town records which are partly or wholly illegible." How much time was used by the clerk in deciphering wholly illegible records is not stated. A post in Ansonia, Conn., bore a card with the following inscription : " There did a young Pig Stray away on the ISth of the present month from george thoraas of West Ansonia or Wendy Hill any person or persons Seeing or giving informa- tion of the Pig would confer a great fever on the a Bove." The pig is supposed to have gone after a spelling-book. A Common Councilman who was on the Committee of Public Instmction in Fall Eiver, Mass., drafted the following order : *' Ordered that the super in tender of streets is heir By orthorized 9 erect and mantane 2 street lites on John street." Their list of unprotected and imprisoned animals noted one day last week such hith- erto unheard of creatures as " too nufoodlen dogs " and " four littel kreem collord doges.*' Divers companions in misery are described with equal fidelity as '* won yeller dog" and *' sevun broun dogs." If to a wretched animal's death could be added a pang, it would be the knowledge that his obituary called him a littel kreem collord doge.^iV^ Y. Tribune. Chap. XVIII.] PRACTICAL VALUE OF RHETORIC. 351 The late Hon. Caleb Gushing of Massachusetts spent the larger part of his mature life as a member of legislative bodies. For years he was the Mentor of the Massachusetts Legislature at a time when his politics put him always in a minority on any polit- ical measure. Yet he saved the State from much unconstitutional legislation by his power of command over the English language. It has been said that no suit at law is known to have been brought into court by any lawyer, in which the success of the suit de- pended on proving to be unconstitutional or defective any statute of which Caleb Cushing had the control in the committee which framed it. He was able to say, and to assist legislators to say, so exactly what was meant, that no clear-headed advocate could mis- understand the statute, or find a flaw in it by which to sustain a lawsuit. The explanation of that rare power of his of precise ut- terance, as given by those who knew him best, is, that he read and conversed in half-a-dozen languages, and made language the study of his life. — Phelps. The Qualities of style may be considered under the heads of P TJEITY, EOPRIETY, BECISION, ERSPICUITY, OWEE, EBFECTION. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Style. Matter vs. Manner, p. 342. On the other hand, p. 344. The best definitions, p. 344. Naturalness, p. 346. ' The end in view, p. 347. Affecting a particular style, p. 348. The false idea that style is superimposed, p. 350. The qualities of style, p. 351. CHAPTEE XIX. PURITY. But how can Purity, which is merely a negative quality, the absence of gross blun- ders, be considered an element of Style, which is the positive manifestation of indi- viduality ? I reply, as cleanliness is an attribute of beauty of countenance, not entering into it, but essential to it. Besides, a scrupulous regard for correctness is in itself a mani- festation of individuality, and a most pleasing one when not excessive. Purity requires the use of (i.) English Words, (ii.) in accordance with Authorized Definitions, (iii.) in Gram- matical Construction. In accordance with the usual classi- fication, subdivisions (ii.) and (iii.) will be considered un- der the head of Propriety. Purity, it was said, implies ttree things. Accordingly in thiee different ways it may be injured. First, the words may not be English. This fault hath received from grammarians the denomi- nation of barbarism. Secondly, the construction of the sentence may not be in the English idiom. This hath got the name of solecism. Thirdly, the words and phrases may not be employed to express the precise meaning which custom hath affixed to them. This is termed impropriety. — Campbell. (i.) English Words are those accepted by (a) Pres- ent, (b) National, (c) Reputable Usage. (a) Present Usage excludes words that are (1) Ob- solete, or (2) Novel. The general rule has been thus expressed : Be not the first by whom the new is tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. — Pope. 354 PURITY. [Pakt IV. (1) Obsolete Words are those once in good usage tliat have passed out of speech and writing. Thus, Thackeray, putting a novel into the form of an autobiog- raphy of the age of Queen Anne, has these expressions : "And so the Sylvester night passed away ; " " Our troops were drawn up in battalia ; '' "Who resplended in purple and gold lace." Examples. — Spenser, pathetic, speaks of a lady's face "blub- bered with tears," and Hooker in a grave sermon warns sinners of the grave danger of " popping down into the pit." — Maesh. As on the way I itenerated, A rurall person I obviated, Interrogating times transitation, And of the passage demonstration. My apprehension did, ingenious, scan That he was meerely a simplitiau. So, when I saw he was extravagant, Unto the obscure vulgar consonant, I bad him vanish most promiscuously. And not contaminate my company. — EowIjANDS, 160O. ' ' Whereas, yf, in his true speech, he has asked him what was the clock, and which had bin his way, his ignorance might of the simplitian been informed in Taoth."— Vbestegan : A Restitu- tion, etc. (2) Novelties are either (a) wholly new words, (/8) expansions or contractions of old words, or (7) combina- tions of old words. (a) New Words are, in any spolsyen language, not only inevitable .but desirable. Their coinage should, how- ever, be restricted by the following principles : 1. JSFew Things and New Thoughts need new words. Shakspere's vernacular could have had no word that represents oxygen ; Addison never had occasion to speak of the phonograph. " How could the idea of a^ost-office be expressed in Greek," asks De Quincey, "or the idea of a coguette in Plebrew ? " As civilization invents, distin- Chap. XIX.] NEW WOUDS. 355 guishes, refines, its vocabulary must keep pace with its ideas. Technical Woeds. Necessity.— It is occasionally lamented that we give to new things, and thoughts new words derived from the Greek, instead" of words made up by combination of famil- iar words. Such critics would have us call the telegraph the "far-off -writer," the telephone the "far-off-speaker," etc. The shallowness of this criticism has been exposed by Marsh. He says : The simple word verb is preferable to any other designation, not because when we study etymology we find it truly descriptive as indicating the relative importance of this word in the period, but precisely for the opposite reason, namely, that to English ears it is not descriptive at all, but purely arbitrary, and therefore is susceptible of exact definition, and not by its very form sugges- tive of incongruous images or mistaken theory. , , . Our substantive add, for instance, is Latin, but for want of a native term, we employ it aB a conjugate noun to the adjective sour, and it has become almost as familiar a word as sour itself. Chemistry adopted acid as the technical name of a class of bodies of which those first recognized in science were recognized by sourne^ of taste. But as chemical knowledge advanced, it was discovered that there were compounds precisely analogous in essential character which were not sour, and consequently acidity was but an accidental quality of some of these bodies, not a necessary or universal characteristic of all. It was thought too late to change the name, and accordingly in all the European languages the term acid^ or its etymological equivalent, is now applied to rock-crystal, quart^phnd flint. In like manner, from a similar misapplication of salt in scientific use, chemists class the substance of which junk-bottles, French mirrors, windows, and opera- glasses are made among the aalts^ while, on the other hand, analysts have declared that the essential character not only of other so-called salts, but also of common kitchen-salt, the salt of salts, had been mistaken ; that salt is not a salt, and accordingly have ex- cluded that substance from the class of bodies upon which, as their truest representative, it had bestowed its name. . . . In the nomenclature of chemistry, to designate the bodies which, because analysis is not yet carried beyond them, are provisionally termed simple substances, we employ Greek compounds, giving to them by formal definition, and therefore arbitrarily, a pre- cise, distinct, rigorously scientific meaning, excluding all other direct or collateral, proper or figurative significations. In the German chemical nomenclature these bodies ate designated by Teutonic compounds derived from roots as trivial as any in the lan- guage. The words carbon^ hydrogen^ oxygen^ ««roffe«,"' employed in English, do not 356 PURITY. [Part IV. recall their etymology, and their meaning is gathered only from technical definition. They express the entire scientific notion of the objects they stand for, and are abridged definitions, or rather signs of definitions, of those objects. They are to the English stu- dent as purely intellectual symbols as the signs of addition, subtraction, and equality in algebra, or, to use a more appropriate simile, as their intials G for carbon, H for hydro- gen, O for oxygen, and the like, which, in conjunction with numerals, are used in ex- pressing quantitative proportions in primary combinations. The corresponding Gemian compounds, Kohl-StofE, Wasser-Stoff, Sauer-Stoflf, and Stick-StofE, coal-aiuf, water- sti(ff^ sour-stt^ff, and choke-stuff, express, each, only a single one of the characteristics of the body to which they are applied, to say nothing of the unphilosophical tendency of thus grossly materializing and vulgarizing our conception of agencies so subtile and ethereal in their nature. Of a like necessity in metaphysics, Coleridge says : "You ask TOB why I %L8e loorda that need explanation? Because (I reply) on this subject there are no others I Because the darkness and the main difficulties that attend it are owing to the vagueness and ambiguity of the words in common use, and which preclude all explanation for him who has resolved that none is required. Because there is already a falsity in the very phrases, ' words in common use,' * the language of com- mon, sense.' Words of most frequent use they may be, common they are not; but the language of the market, and, as such, expressing degrees onl}', and therefore incompe- tent to the purpose whenever it becomes necessary to designate the kitid independent of all degree. The philosopher may and often does employ the same words as in the mar- ket ; but does this supersede the necessity of a previous explanation ? As I referred you before to the botanist, so now to the chemist. Light, heat, charcoal, are every man's words. But fixed or invisible light ? The frozen heat ? Charcoal in its simplest form as diamond, or as black-lead ? Will a stranger to chemistry be worse off, would the chem- ist's language be less likely to be understood by his using different words for distinct meanings, as carbon, caloric, and the like ? " Proper Use. — Unusual technical words should be em- ployed only where scientific accuracy is demanded and ex- pected. To insert into speech, or writing intended for the public a phraseology adapted only to the professional study indicates pedantry, if not empiricism. The bulletins of the condition of the late President Garfield during his illness gave opportunity for criticism. Here are some translations by the New York Sun. ENGLISH. Sometimes upon awaking from sleep he He is out of his head at times, has had temporary hallucinations, such as might have been expected in a patient in bis condition. These manifestations are caused by the want of perfect nutrition for the brain and by the toxic condition of the system. — Db. Bliss, August 23. Chap. XIX.] TECHNICAL WORDS. 357 Judging from the reports, I concluded the symptoms of pyaemia existed prior to the operation made for the opening of the first abKcess or flrsL collection of coufinGd The pus has probably been poisoning the blood for a month. There is no doubt of it now. In such cases the patient is likely to die. pus. If any doubt had existed prior to the appearance of the inflamed condition of the parotid gland as regards pyaemia being present and acting an important part in the con- catenation of the President's system, none can exist now. Pyaemia occurring during the progress of severe surgical injuries is regarded ns of the utmost gravity, and as u suspected prognostic of a fatal termination. — De. Cabnochan, reported in the Herald, August 93. I have continued to feel the greatest con- fidence in his recovery,— Dr. Bliss, August I hope he will get well. It was Herbert Spencer wto made the following definition of / evolution : Evolution is a change from an indefinite, incoherent homogeneity to a definite, cohe- ] rent heterogeneity, through continuous differentiations and integrations. It was the mathematician Kirkman who translated the definition into what he considered plain English : / / Evolution is a change from a nohowish, untdkaboutable, all-alikeness, to a somehow- ish, and in-gencral-talkabou table not-at-all-alikeness, by continuous somethingelseifica- tions and sticktogetherations. In a recent scientific journal I find this sentence : Begoniaceae, by their anthero-connectival fabric indicate a close relationship with ano- naceo-hydrocharideu-nymphajoid forms, an affinity confirmed by the serpentarioid flex- uoso-nodulous stem, the liriodendroid stipules, and cissold and victorioid foliage of a certain Begonia, and if considered hypogynous, would, in their triquetrous capsule, alato seed, apetalism, and tufted stamination, represent the floral fabric of Nepenthes, itself of aristolochioid affinity, while by its pitchered leaves, directly belonging to Sarraceuias and Dionoeas.— Mabsh. Considered as a representation of the actual language of life, it is a violation of the truth of costume to cram with technical words the conversation of a technical man. All men, except the veriest, narrowest pedants in their craft, avoid the language of the shop, and a small infusion of native sense of propriety prevents the most ignorant laborer from obtruding the dialect of his art upon those with whom he communicates in reference to matters not pertaining to it. Every man affects to be, if not socially above, yet intellect- ually independent of and superior to his calling, and if in this re- spect his speech bewi'ay him, it will be by words used in mere joke, or by such peculiarities of speech, as without properly be- ) \ I 358 PURITY. [Part IV. longing to the exercise of his profession have been occasioned by it. — Marsh. Technical Metaphors and comparisons should in like manner be avoided. Even Campbell, who says that " in strict propriety technical vs^ords should not be considered as belonging to the language because not in use or under- stood by the generality even of readers," uses the follow- ing figure : Humor, when we consider the contrariety of its effects, con- tempt and laughter (which constitute what in one word is termed derision), to that sympathy and love often produced by the pathetic, may in respect of these, be aptly compared to a concave mirror, when the object is placed beyond the focus ; in which case it ap- pears by reflection both diminished and inverted, circumstances which happily adumbrate the contemptible and the i-idioulous. -(i. 58.) Many words once purely technical have entered into common use, and may now be employed with freedom. Just where to draw the line it is not always easy to tell ; but where there is doubt as to whether a word will be understood, it is a safe rule to employ some other, or even a circumlocution. Addison objected {Spectator, No. 297) that Milton's -corjifce, cul- minate, equator, and zenith were too technical for ordinary appre- hension. — H at.t, . William Taylor, casting ridicule on a book in the Monthly Re- mew (1798), introduces the following words as uniatelligible bar- barisms : " Were we endeavoring to characterize this work in the dialect peculiar to Professor Kant, we should observe that its intensive like its extensive magnitude is small ; as a de- tached disqaiisition or as a contribution to the theory of taste it is alike unimportant ; its subjective is as slight as its objective worth. Of the author we cannot but suspect that his empirical acquaintance with words of taste is not comprehpusive ; his receptivity for cesthetic gi-atification not delicate ; his transcenclental deduction of the categories of crit- icism neither discretive nor exhaustive ; and that the pkeuomena of beauty, with respect to him, rank among the noumena. — Hall, Chap. XIX.] NEW WORDS. 359 New words, as representing new ideas, are also intro- duced by intercourse with other nations, especially by commerce. Most of the names upon a grocer's catalogue have accompanied from other nations the importation of the articles they represent. 2. Masters of style may coin such words as in their judgment seems necessary or desirable. De Quincey makes it a test of an author's power how many new words, phrases, idioms, significations, he is enabled to engraft upon his native tongue. But with this the beginner has nothing to do. Even long experience and unquestioned recognition leave it still a perilous task to propose a new word. No author ever shackled himself by more absurd restrictions, not even the lipogrammatists, or those who built altars and hatched eggs in verse, than Mr. Fox, when he resolved to use no other words in his History than were to be found in Dry den. — Southey. I conceive that words are like money, not the worse for being common, but that it is the stamp of custom alone that gives them circulation or value. I am fastidious in this respect, and would almost as soon coin the currency of the realm as counterfeit the king's English. I never invented or gave a new and unauthorized meaning to any word but one single one — the tei'm impersonal, ap- plied to feelings ; and that was in an abstmse metaphysical dis- cussion, to express a very difficult distinction. — Hazlitt. We must not be too frequent with the mint, every day coining, nor fetch words from the extreme and utmost ages. Words bor- I'owed of antiquity do lend a kind of majesty to style, and are not without their delight sometimes. For they have the authority of years, and out of their intermission do win to themselves a kind of grace-like newness. But the eldest of the present, and newest of ihe past language is best. — Ben Jonson. It is a doubtful experiment with any man to add a word to his native tongue. The creation of a word is a great assumption over human thought. It is a challenge to a na- tion's mind. It may bo an assault on n nation's prejudices. It may be resisted by the whole mome^tum of a nation's history. It may be ejected by the force of a nation's 360 PURITY. [Part IV. whims. The chances are as a thousand to one against its success. Such a word may have every scholarly quality in its favor, and yet it may die of sheer neglect. It dies without so much as a burial. The nation often does not resist it, does not argue about it, but simply says, '* We do not want it." Cicero had no superioras an authority in Roman literature, yet he failed more frequently than he succeeded in his attempts to improve the vernacular of his countrymen. The same is true of Milton and of Coleridge, both of whom were students of the forces of language, masters of racy English, and expeilmenters in the creation of novel words.— Phelps. CoLERiDftE, in his work '* On Church and State," makes use of the following extra-, ordinary words : Itijluencive^ extroUive^ retroUive, and productivity. Bentley uses : Co7nmentitiou8, aliens^ neogoce^ and excribe. But no other writers adopted these words ; a clear proof that they were not wanted. Charles Lamb used in his writings several words which have not succeeded in main- taining a place in the language. Among them may be named agnize, burgeon, and arride. In the writings of the late N. P, Willis we meet with such terms as the following ; An unletupable nature, wMeawakeity^ plumptitude^ pocketually speaking, betweenity^ and go-awayness .' In the same gentleman's writings we occasionally come across such elegant forms of expression as whipping creation, flogging Europe, a heap of opinions, tUT-nation quick, etc. These and all such must be looked upon as abortions or defurmities of our language; and no English writer who has any respect for his own reputation should ever think of countenancing, far less of adopting, such monstrosities. — Grahau. It is not easy for me to write without a strong sense of loathing the name of this acrid fantast and idolizer of brute force — at best a bad copy of all that is most objectionable in Hobbes. The word international, introduced by the immortal Benthara, and Mr. Gar- lyle''8 gigmanity — to coin which, by the way, it waff necessary to invent facts — are signifi- cantly characieristic of the utilitarian philanthropist and of the f utilitarian misanthropist, respectively. — Hall. In The Doctor Southey gives himself free scope, as a verbarian, much after the way of Rabelais, Thomas Nash, Taylor the water-poet, or Feltham. These are a few of his ventures there : herbarism. hippogony. heplarchy. humorology. iatrachy. idolify. insomnolence. kittenship. magnisonant, minify. mottocrat. nepotions. obituarist. omni- erudite. omnisigmficance. oxmanship, parenthesize. paulopostfuturatively. agathokakological. ala modality. anywhereness. bibliogony. cacodemonizc. caliomisticate, circum am bagious. cornification. crab-grade (v. n.) crazyologist. critickin. den drantheopology . disrecommendation, domesticize. errabund, etceeterarist. everywherenesa facsimileship. felisophy. pentametrize. ferrivorous. personifioator. gelasticB. philofelist. gignitive. philotheiat. heartshead. But even in the pages of the Quarterly Review, he allowed himself such terms, some of them very good ones, as [here a list of sixty-six words is given, including onthrophi^- quasically. quintelement quizzify. quotationipotent. resemblant. semiramize. Bhowee. BbilliBhallier. stelliscript. stockinger. theologo-jurist. threnodial. trimestral. typarchical. uglyographize. unegofy. unipsefy. un parallel! able. un prosperity. utoviianizer. whiskerandoed. zoophilist. CuAP. XIX.] NEW WORDS. 361 gisfcic, batracephagous, floccinancipillflcation, etc.] . , . And yet Stnithey wrote to William Taylor in 1874, " Do sometimes ask yourself the question whether the word you are about to use be in the dictionary or not." — Robbehds' " Memoir of William Taylor," i. 458 Hall. Coleridge sajs: Unusual and new-coined words are doubtless an evil, but vague- ness, confusion, and imperfect conveyance of our thoughts are a far greater. And again : To convey his meaning precisely is a debt which an author owes to his readers. He therefore who, to escape the charge of pedan- tiy, will rather be misunderstood than startle a fastidious critic with an unusual term, may be compared to the man who should pay his creditor in base or counterfeit coin, when he had gold or silver ingots in his possession t(5 the precise amount of the debt ; and this, under the pretence of their unshapeliness and want of the mint-impression. The following quotation illustrates his meaning : This catholic spirit was opposed to the gnostic or peculiar spirit — the humor of fantastical interpretation of the old Scrip- tTii% into Christian meanings. It is this gnosis, or kn'ou-ingness, which the apostle says pufifeth up — not hiowledge as we translate it. 3. Temporary Coinage of a word for a peculiar effect, especially a humorous effect, is occasionally permissible. Professor James Russell Lowell, for example, is one of the most Scholarly critics and authors in our language. A word coined by him would carry all the authority which any one man's name can give to a word. But when he coins, as he does, such words as " cloudbei-gs," and " other worldliness," and "Dr. Wattsiness,'' he descends from style to slang. He does not expect to see them in the next edition of Worcester's Dictionary. He would be ashamed to see them there with his name as their authority. . . . He knows, and the world of scholars knows, that his own scholarly reputation will bear such occasional departures from 362 PUBITT. [Part IV. good English, somewhat as a very saintly man can bear to be seen carrying a flask of brandy in the street. That which is a literary peccadillo from Professor Lowell's pen may be unscholarly sloven- liness from one unknown to fame. — Phelps. Coleridge ! I devoutly wish that Fortune, who has made sport with you so long, may play one fresh move, throw you into'Lon- don or some place near it, and there snugify you for life. — O. Lamb. The roadB are uot passable, Not even jackassable ; And all who would travel 'em Must turn out and gravel 'em. — Nashvitle American, 4. Factitious Notoriety given to a new word sometimes becomes converted into popularity. The manager of a theatre in Dublin once passed an evening with certain amateurs in literature ; and he staked a sum of money on the proposal that he would create a word which should belong to no language on the globe, and should be absolutely void of sense, yet it should become the subject of the common talk of the town in twenty-four hours. The wager was accepted. He then sent his servants through the most densely peopled streets of the city, with directions to chalk in large capitals the letters QUIZ on each alter- ■ nate door and shop-window. The next day was Sunday. Stores were closed, and the throng in the streets had leisure to read the enig- matical letters. Every one who saw it repeated it to his neighbor ; and his neighbor responded, "What does 'quiz' mean?" It had no meaning. No language owned it. Scholarly taste scouted it. Yet everybody laughed at it, and that gave it a meaning. From that day to this, scholarship has been compelled to recognize the word, and to use it as good, sound English. — Phbeps. An incident which excites the surprise or appeals to the sympathies of a whole people will often give a very general and permanent currency to a new word, or an expression not before in familiar use. Take for example the word coirucidsruie. The verb coincide and its derivative noun are of rather recent introduction into our language. They are not found in Minishen, and they occur neither in Shakspere nor in Milton, though they may perhaps have been employed by scientific writers at a^ early a date. They belong to the language of mathematics, and were originally applied to points and lines. Thus, if one mathematical point be superimposed upon anothcT, or one sti'aight line be superim- posed upon another straight line between the same two points ; or if two lines follow the same course, whatever be its curve, between two points, then in the first case the two Chap. XIX.] NEW WORDS. 363 points, in the latter two the two lines, are eald to coincide, and their conformity of posi- tion is called coincidence. In like manner, any two events happening at the same period, or any two acts or states beginning at the same moment, are said to coincide in time, and the conjugate noun, coincidence, is employed to express the fact that they are so contem- poraneous. These words soon passed into common use, in the same sense, and were ap- plied also figuratively to identity of opinion or character in different individuals, as well as to many other cases of close similarity or resemblance ; but they still belonged rather to the language of rules and of science than to the daily speech of common life. On the Fourth of July, 1826, the semi-centennial jubilee of the declaration of American inde- pendence, Thomas Jefferson, the author, and John Adams, one of the signers of that re- markable manifesto, both also ex- Presidents, died, and this concurrence in the decease of distinguished men on the anniversary of so critical a point in their lives and the history of their country, was npticed all over the world, but more especially in the United States, as an extraordinary coiTicidetice. The death of Mr. Monroe, also an ex- President, on the Fourth of July, a year or two after, gave a new impulse to the circulation of the word co- incidence, and in this country at least it at once acquired and still retains a far more general cuiTency than it had ever possessed before. — Marsh. 5. Popular Need of a new word becomes recognized, now and then, and the word takes its place not through scholars but in spite of them. In this introduction of new words, moreover, the incorrect ex- pression really has the better chance of acceptance, and for two reasons — firstly, the odds are vastly in favor of its being wanted, and consequently made by an unscientific person rather than by a philologist ; and secondly, it has not only a start, but a very long start, of the more accurate term. It almost invariably becomes general in conversational use before it appeai-s in literature; it regularly germinates, buds, blooms in conversation ; and it is mostly in the form of a fixed result, as a sort of gathered print, that it takes its place in written speech ; while the better word which might supplant it must, to change my metaphor, raise but a baby hand, and utter a trembling cry against the strength of maturity and the shout of a man. — Blacklbt. The New^apers are not, however, to be regarded as exponents of the popular need, nor are words to be ac- cepted because employed by the morning journals. Newspaper English. — "The tramp Eoderick, who burgled the two houses on West Hill last week and was jailed Simday night, broke out last evening, but was policed clear to the river, where, finding escape impossible, he wharfed himself and suicided. The 364 PUEITY. [Part IV. body piled itseK at the bridge and will be coronered in the morn- ing. Truly, in the midst of life, we are deathed." Mr. Geo. H. MoOhesney, the extensive lumber dealer, of Syra- cuse, who supplies most of the Auburn trade, and Charles F. Saule, a retired banker of the saline city, with their wives, Sundied in Auburn. — Avhum Advertiser. Genebaij View. — Of new words we may enumerate at least five distinct sources : (1) Those which may be called inspired are due, almost wholly, to the common people ; (2J others are elaborated by the learned ; (3) others are imposed by conquest, as the Norman element of the English, and the Semitic element of the Indian vernaculars ; (4) others, all the world over, are imported by com- merce ; (5) and others still are introduced from abroad by fashion, or borrowed thence for their usefulness. It is with the two first classes and the last that we are concerned practically. Inspired neoterisms, as springing from the needs of the illiterate, often respond to a general need, and are easily enfranchised. Besides, being mostly monosyllables, they are easy of remembrance, and, when not abbreviations, being found in the most obvious analogies, they are rarely exceptionable as illegitiinate formations. How- ever less immediately valuable for popular use, the coinages of scholars, in proportion as they supply recognized wants,' likewise make good their value eventually by obtaining the rights of citi- zenship. Intercourse with foreign countries and their inhabitants contributes further to augment our lingual wealth. And thus our exchequer is constantly increasing ; and, at the same time, its con- tents are constantly liable to mutation. Once it was not so, but nowadays we may accept as an indubitable argument of a nation's healthy activity, both intellectual and material, the fact of the ex- pansiveness and mobility of its language.— Hall. (/3) Expansion and Contraction of old words is continually attempted. The former is usually the result of ambitious groping for impressiveness, like "preventa- tive" for "preventive." The latter comes from the ten- dency in speech, as in other exertion, to escape all avoid- able effort. Chap. XIX. ] EXPANSION AND CONTRACTION, 365 The most common contractions are of the verb with the adverb no/, like "isn't," "won't" (see page 262). In colloquial speech and in familiar letters these may be indulged ; but nowhere should " ain't" be employed for any purjDOse, nor should " don't" be used inste&d of " doesn't" in the third person singular. (7) Combinations of old words are most common in tlie double epithets affected by inferior writers. Very few of these long-winded, long-waisted, long-tongued, long-tailed, and loag-eared compounds are authorized English. The taste for them destroys the taste for monosyllabic words, on which the force of a spoken style so much depends. A subtle sympathy exists between these compounds and long, involuted sentences. Be not deceived, if occasionally they seem to strengthen style. In the general effect they dilute and flatten it ; they invite a drawl in delivery ; they are a drawl in expression. Few forms of mannerism run to such extremes as this, when once the scruples of good taste are broken down. Mrs. Henry Wood, in "Eoland Yorke," speaks of the "not-attempted-to-be-concealed care." An- other female author remarks upon " the-sudden-at-the-moment- though-from-lingering-iJlness-often-previously-expected death " of one of her heroines. It does not require scholarly erudition to decide that such a tape-worm as this has no proper place above ground. The taste which could tolerate it is hopeless barbarism. The next phase of such culture is cannibalism. — Phelps. The combining or conipounrling power is of difEerent degrees in different languages, but in tlie Mexican language it is carried to an incredible extent. Here combinations are admitted po easily that the simplest Ideas are buried under a load of accessories. For example, the word for a pricat consists of eleven svllables, and is there called notlazo- maliuizleoplxcafalein, which mrans literally, venerable minister of God. whom I love aa a father. A still more comprehensive word is amatlacuitolitguitcaltaxtolahuitli, which* means ihe reward given a measenger who brings a hierogtyphical map conveying intelti- geiice.—BLACKLEY. Aristophanes has a word of fourteen syllablcB from six radicals, signifying meanly- early - rising • and - hurrying-to-the-tribunal-to-denounce-another-foi;-an-inf raction-of-the- law-concerning-the-exportation-of-figs. In another case the same dramatist coins a word of seventy-two syllables, as the name of a dish composed of a great number of ingre- dients, and Ricbter quotes Forster as authority for a Sanscrit compound of one hundred and fifty-two syllables. — Marsh. The first English poet who gavo prominence to this power of combination was Chapman, who applied it with wonderfully happy S66 PURITY. ' [PaktIV. effect in his Homer's " Iliad," in translating the compound Greek epithets which so frequently occur in that poem, such as swift- footed, wiry-wristed, white-armed, many-headed, rosy-fingered, etc. Most of these -were afterward adopted by Pope. There is a ten- dency in some modem English writers to cany this compounding power to an unwarrantable extent, a practice which should cer- tainly be resisted, as being opposed to the genius of our language, and also giving evidence of aping after Germanic forms, and thus transgressing the proper limits of the language. The late Madame D'Arblay, in her "Memoirs of Dr. Burney," speaks of the "very- handsome, - though - no - longer - in - her - bloom " Mrs. Stevens. — Blaokley. The nuthority of Milton and Shakspere may be ugefuUy pointed out to young authors. In the "Comua"and other early poems of Milton there is a superfluity of double epi- thets, while in "The Paradise Lost" we find very few, in "The Paradise Regained" scarce any. The same remark holds almost equally true of the " Love's Labor Lost," "Romeo and Juliet," "Venus and Adonis," and " Lucrece," compared with "Lear," " Macbeth," " Othello," and " Hamlet" of our great dramatist. The rule for the admis- sion of double epithets seems to be this ; either that they should be already denizens of otir language, such as blood-stained, terror-atricken, seff-applauding ; or when a new epithet, or one found in books only, is hazarded, that it at least be one word, not two words made one by mere virtue of the printer's hyphen. A language which, like the English, is almost without cases, is indeed in its very genius unfitted for compounds. If a writer every time a compounded word suggests itself would seek for some other way of expressing himself, the chances are always greatly in favor of his finding a better word. — Coleridge. Yet Charles Lamb writes to this very Coleridge : "There is a capital line in your sixth number : This dark, frieze-coated, teeth-chattering month. They are exactly such epithets as Burns would have stumbled on, whose poem on " The Ploughed-up Daisy " you seem to have had in mind. • (b) National usage excludes the use of words and constructions that are (1) Foreign, or (2) Provincial. (I) Foreign usage may consist in (a) interpolation into English "construction, as "She looked iriste, poor tiling ; " or (/3) adoption of foreign • construction, with either foreign or English words. (a) Interpolations of foreign words are advertise- ments of the writer's limited vocabulary. The late poet Chap. XIX.] fOREIGN WORDS. 36Y and journalist Bryant used to say that he never felt the temptation to use a foreign word without being able to find in English a word that expressed his meaning with more exactness and felicity. We need only glance into one of the periodical representatives of fashionable litera- ture, or into a novel of the day, to see how serious this assault upon the purity of the English language has become. The cbancea are more than equal that we shall fall in with a writer who considers it a point of honor to choose all his most emphatic words from a French vocabulary, and who would think it a lamentable falling off in his style, did he write half a dozen sentences without employing at least half that number of foreign words. His heroes are always marked by an air distingue; his vile men are sure to be blania : his lady friends never merely dance or dress well, they dance or dress (i mer- veille ; and he himself, when lolling on the sofa under the spirit of laziness, does not simply enjoy his rest, he luxuriates in the dolce far niente, and wonders when he will manage to begin his magmiTn, opus. And so he carries ns through his story, mnning off into hackneyed French, Italian, or Latin expressions, whenever he has anything to say which he thinks shoiild be graphically or emphatically said. It really seems as if he thought the English language too meagre or too commonplace a dress in which to clothe his thoughts. The tongue which gave a noble utterance to the thoughts of Shakspere and Milton is altogether insufficient to express the more cosmopolitan ideas of Smith, or Tomkins, or Jenkins I . . , We have before us an article from the pen of a very clever writer, and, as it appears in a magazine which specially professes to represent the " best society," it may be taken as a good specimen of the style. It describes a dancing party, and we discover for the first time how much learaing is necessary to describe a "hop " properly. The reader is informed that all the people at the dance belong to the beau monae, as may be seen at a coup d'mil; ^e demi-monde is scrupulously excluded, and in fact everything about it bespeaks the haul ton of the whole affair. A lady who has been happy in her hair- dresser IS paid to be coiffee A ravir. Then there is the bold man to describe. Having acquired the savoir faire, he is never afraid of making a faux pas. but no matter what kind of conversation is started plunges at once in mediae res. Following him is the fair debutante^ who is already on the look-out for un bon parti, but whose nee retrovss^ is a decided obstacle to her success. She is of course accompanied by mamma en grande toilette^ who, entre nous, looks rather ridee even in the gashght. Then, lest the writer should seem frivolous, he suddenly abandons the description of the dances, vis-(\-vi8 and doS'&-dos^ to tell us that Homer becomes tiresome when he sings of Bown-ts troTvia 'Hpij twice in a page. The supper calls forth a corresponding amount of learning, and the writer concludes his article after having aired his Greek, his Latin, his French, and, in a subordinate way, his English. Of course this style has admirers and imitators. It is showy and pretentious, and everything that is showy and pretentious has admirers. The admixture of foreign phrases, with our plain English produces a kind of Brummagem sparkle which people whose appreciation is limited to the superficial imagine to be brUliancy. Those who are deficient in taste and art education not unfrequently prefer a dashing picture by young Daub to a glorious cartoon by 'Raphael. The bright coloring of the one far more than counterbalances the lovely but unobtrusive grace of the other. In a similar way, young students are attracted by the false glitter of the French-paste school of composition, and instead of forming their sentences upon the beautiful models of the great English mas- 368 PURITY. [Part IV. ters, they twist them into all sorts of unnatural Bhape.s for no other end than they may introduce a few inappropriate French or Latin words, the use of which they have learned to think looks sm&rt.—Leeds Mercurj/. (/8) Adoption of a foreign construction may be (1) simply the attempt to express one's self in that language instead of one's own, or (2) the conscious or unconscious use of English words in a foreign idiom. (1) To speak another language when unnecessary is an affectation, and like all affectation a fit subject of ridi- cule. Dr. Johnson sneetingly observed to Macklin, the dramatist, that literary men should converse in the learned languages, and immediately addressed him in Latin. Macklin knew nothing of Latin, but retorted by uttering a long sentence in Irish, where- upon the doctor returned to English, saying deferentially, "You may speak very good Greek, but I am not sufficiently versed in that dialect to converse with you fluently." Kean, though not classically educated, was always anxious to create an impression to that effect, and therefore interlarded his conversation liberally with Latin, which was usually pretty bad. Once when Phillips, his secretary, was waiting for him at one of his nocturnal orgies, the following conversation occurred : 2 A.M. — Phillips. Waiter, what was Mr. Kean doing when you left the room ? Waiter. Playing the piano, sir, and singing. Phillips. Oh, then he's all right yet. 9.15. — Phillips. What is Mr. ICean doing now ? Waiter. Making a speech, sir, about Shakspere. Phillips. He's getting drunk; you'd better order the carriage. ^.iiQ.— Phillips. What's he at now ? Waiter. He's talking Latin, sir. Phillips. Then he is drunk. We must get him away at once. Lord Belgrave having clinched a speech in the House with a long Greek quotation, Sheridan in reply admitted the force of the quotation so far as it went, " but,'' said he, "had the noble lord proceeded a little further and completed the passage he would have seen that it applied the other way. Sheridan then spouted something, ore rotunda, which had all the ais, ois, oit-t, Jcon, and fco,-*, that give the wonted assurance of a Greek quotation ; upon which Lord Belgrave very promptly and handsomely complimented the honorable member on his readiness of recollection, and frankly admitted that the con- tinuation of thepassage had the tendency ascribed to it by Mr. Sheridan, and that he had overlooked it when he gave the quotation. On the breaking up of the House Fox, who piqued himself on having some Greelc, went up to Sheridan and asked him, " Shcri- Chap. XIX.] FOREIGN IDIOMS. 369 dan, how came you so ready with that passuge ? It is certainly as you say, but I was not aware of it before you quoted it." It is unnecessary to say that there is no G-reek at all in Sheridan's imiiromptii. — WorJc8. The Home Journal tells a funny story about Dickens and Thackeray. Once they were in Paris, and Thackeray, on going out, cautioned the servant not to let the fire go out: " Gardez le/eu.''' Thackeray's French pronunciation not being perfect, the servant understood the last word to be fuu, instead of feu : consequently he was not to let the madman go out. When Thackeray got back, he found the hotel in great excitement, and Dickens, in a towering rage, stalking about, while the landlord declared that the madman insisted on going out. The people in the hotel had to unite their forces to hold him in. (2) Foreign idioms are never to be employed, ex- cept occasionally as a kind of suggestion, akin to quota- tion. Hence in translating from a foreign tongue, it is not suflScient to give the English equivalent of the words. Not "How do you carry yourself?" but "How do you do? " is the proper English rendering of " Comment vous portez-vous ? " Making it Easy fob Him. — A number of Chinese have been at the Grand Hotel, New York. Young Mr. Smith, who wanted to have some fun, said to one of them who was making a puzzle out of the wooden toothpicks on the counter: "Indendee stoppee herelongee?" **Sir?" said the Celestial. "Stoppee longee in New Yorkee ? " repeated Mr. Smith, with a smile. * ' We shall re- main in the city but a brief period," said the Pekin fnan, •* prior to resuming our journey to Washington." Then he walked away, and the junior proprietor of the Grand ascertained that he had been talking to a Harvard graduate who spoke six different lan- guages besides Chinese. — Lancaster Intelligencer. Too LiTSRAL Thanslatiok. — " Madame, what is there on the cafd for the dinner ? " inquired the new boarder, at onr boarding-house, as he seated hims^elf at the table. " Of the Koup. of the beef, of the sheep, of the calf and of the poultry," replied she, " the which wish jou ? " " A piece of the hen roasted," said he, " and of the apples of the ground." " Wish you of the apples of the ground cooked to the water to the furnace?" de- manded she. " I prefer them cooked to the master of hotel," said he. " We have not of cook French," said madame, sharply, " wheti the to board is of such, good market it must that we sweat blood and water to make come together both ends," and madame wiped one tear fi'om her eye. " Oh, bring me what you have,'' said the new boarder, tendered to the instant ; " but dispatch yourself, as I wish accompany of the friends to celebrale the funeral of a mia- 370 PXTRITY. tPART IV. ter of two hours. Bring me in, same time, mndame, if you please, of the pie to the eggs, and a cup of coffee, black, for the dessert." Easy Fbbnch Lessons. — Does the handsome (jolie) miss take lessons of the good music-teacher ? Oh, yes, the handsome miss takes lessons (lemons) of the good music- teacher. The hours of the good music-teacher are very short. Are the bills of the music- teacher also short ? No, the bills of the music-teacher are very long. Do you know of other teachers besides the teacher of your sister's friend? Oh, yes, I know that of the son of the gardener. What is the matter (qu'a-i-U) with the music-teacher ? Has he shame {a-t-il lionte) ? No, he is not ashamed, he is jealous. r Has the sister of the baker talent ? No, she has not talent, but she has the " Maid- en's Prayer." Has the grocer's brother the fine sonata ? He has not the fine sonata, but he has " Tam O'Shanter." Can you hear the soft tone of the great violinist ? No, I can- not hear the tone of the great violinist \ that is why I applaud. Has the lady in the blue silk pain ? No, she has no pain, but she is singing {elle cTiante) ; her hearers have pain. — Musical Herald. A Genuine Oircdlab. — ISAAC WEINBERG Banker Hamburgh. Hamburgh, Date of the Poststamp. LAUDABLE EXPEDITION! By this I am so free as to direct the humble question to You, if You accept for me in Your estimable journal advertisements, for the Hamburgian-town and Brunswigian- country lottery ? In an affirmative case you will be so kind as to give me a^j answer on the following questions : 1) How often comes out Your journal? 2) What is the price of insertion for a line, resp. eighth, fourth part, half and whole page of your journal ? 3) How broad (narrow) is a single column (how many u go in it) and how many slits counts the page ? 4) After what sorte of writing (Nonpareille Petit. Garmond) do You account for the price of a line ? 5) What a «bate do You consent me ? I join still to my last question, that I am al- ready since many years in a Direct intercourse with more than 500 german newspapers, and that all they offered me at the same conditions, which they grant the counter of an- nounces. With these I discount after agreement every 3 or 6 month ; but I left it entirely to Your estimation, what concession You will consent me in concern of this, how- ever I expect from Your side favorable conditions, because my orders being for the great- est part, considerable, and my advertisements of large extent. Expecting a defrayed favorable answer I am with consideration Isaac Weinberg. (2) Provincialisms often become good English, but must be avoicied while their use is still confined to a lo- cality. Thus, a majority of those that frequent them, call the Adiron- dack mountains "The North Woods," because they He to the Chap. XIX.] PROVINCIALISMS. 3^1 north of the people of Southern and Central New York, whence most of the visitors come. But by the people of St. Lawrence county this same region is for a like reason known as " The South Woods." Hence to use either term in literature would produce ambiguity. Take another illustration from the same region. No one that has travelled there with guides would think of referring to the baggage that accompanies one in the trips from one point to an- other except as "duffle." This is the recognized word through- out that region, but would be unintelligible elsewhere. Again, a boy brought up on a Vermont farm would hear the word "clever" used only to indicate good-nature. A clever colt is one that can be readily handled ; a clever man is one who ac- cedes to most requests. But in literature the word is the adjec- tive that corresponds with tact, indicating felicity in execution. The question therefore arises. What is the standard of purity ? Is it usage in my village, or in Boston, or in New York, or in Lon- don ? Probably Mr. Richard Grant White is justified in assum- ing that the purest spoken English is to be heard in the best society of London. To us who do not enter that circle, it is ade- quately portrayed in the books of the standard English authors. The young writer will for a long time find in the dictionaries all the help he can make use of. By diligent study of these, by care- ful and critical reading, and by intellige;it listening and discus- sion, he will eventually acquire a sense of fitness that will rarely mislead him in his choice of words. • By accepted usage in speech we nntjerstand that which ie practised or approved, consiRtently and advertently, by the best writers and speakers of any given time. These qualifications are necessary, for Landor well observes, " Good writers are authorities for only what is good, and by no means, and in no degree, for what is bad, which may be found even in them." — Hall. One writer, therefore, in these days, shall not follow Piers the Plowman, nor Gower, nor Lydgate, nor yet Chaucer, for their language is now not of use with us ; neither yet shall he take the terms of the Northmen, such as they use in daily talk, whether they be noblemen or gentlemen or their best clerks, nor in effect any speech •ised beyond the Eiver Trent ; though no man can deny that theirs is the pnrest English Saxon at this day. Yet it is not so courtly, nor so current as our Southern English is, no more is the far Western man's speech. He shall, therefore, take the usual speech of the Court, and that of London, and the shires lying about London, within sixty miles, and not much above.— PuTTENHAM, Art of English Poesie^ 1582. (c) Reputable usage excludes the use of slang. 8Y2 tUElTY. [Pakt IV. Slang may consist in words or expressions (1) that are unjustifiably created, or (2) that are misused. (1) Slang Words no careful speaker will employ in any signification. They are low in origin, low in usage. The very sound of them locates a speaker as unerringly as a gilt watch-chain would. Yet almost all the new words coined by the people in obedience to popular necessity have been regarded as slang when first em- ployed. " Mob " is a contraction of mobile vulgus, and was sneered at contemptuously by Dean Swift ; yet to-day it is indispensable. Which of the scores of words that assail our ears upon the sti-eet will be employed by the statesman of the next ge'neration ? No one knows ; but the principle is that of the survival of the fittest. If the word is a necessity to the popular mind, it will hold its own in spite of those that are heedful of the words they use, and is in no need of their support If it is not a necessity, it will disap- pear, no matter who uses it. The safe rule, for the young writei at least, is to wait till the word has been accepted by writers and speakers of unquestioned authority. No expression can become a vulgarism which has not a broad foundation. The language of the vulgar hath its source in phy- sics, in known, comprehended, and operative things. — Lakdob. These vulgarisms and corruptions of language do not come at once into general use ; they creep in stealthily ; they often spring from ignorance or caprice ; then they do some service in an hum- ble way, in the market or the courts, ministering to the wants of the poor and the ignorant ; then they attract the favor of the press in its least authoritative form, and finally, partly from assumption and partly from necessity, they come to be acknowledged as good citizens and freeholders in the realm. — Quoted by Schble de Verb. (2) Slang Signification is a greater danger to the young writer. So nig,ny words, admirable in themselves, and found in the works of the best authors, have been de- based by unthinking misuse, that only vigilance and deli- cacy of apprehension can guard one against them. Chap. XIX.] SLANG. 373 The adjective " nice," for instance, has a definite and useful sig- nification. Yet because it has been made an omnibus for expres- sion of the most heterogeneous qualities (see page xxvi), it must be avoided, or used with an apology. The adjective " genteel " has a noble lineage, and in definitions of the dictionaries and books of synonyms is still unimpeached. Yet in refined circles and in the best contemporary literature it is now used to express not what is refined, but what seeks to be so, and is characterized by uneasy consciousness of efibrt, far removed from the well-bred assurance of the lady and gentle- man. " Culture," again, is a word so indispensable that only a circum- locution will approximately express the idea it conveys ; but it can no longer be freely used, since in newspaper columns every local politician is as "cultured" as he is "genial" and "high- toned." The last expression is so completely relegated to the class of people who have usurped it, that one gets a little shock of surprise to meet the following sentence in an Oxford lecture of Professor Shairp : Again there are high-toned spirits which regard the world as -a scene made to give scope for moral heroism. The fact is, these words, especially those that denote social dis- tinction of any kind, follow the experience of the fashions. A new shape of bonnet is introduced by some one to whom the commu- nity is accustomed to look for guidance in matters of taste. Hideous as it might have seemed if introduced under other aus- pices, it soon takes on by association of ideas the same air of fit- ness and beauty that the lady has always seemed to have about her, till presently any other shape seems out of date and unbecoming. But meantime it has been adopted and exaggerated by those looked upon as the worst-dressed persons in the community, and so gets associated with itself all the unpleasant ideas that their cos- tumes have been in the habit of suggesting. It is now full time for a change, and when the leader of society appears in a new shape we are the more ready to receive it cordially because we are so heartily tired of the old. In like manner, when words that are meant to be titles of ad- mirable qualities are assumed by those who in tii^ very assump- Missing Page Chap. XIX.] SLANG. 375 young ladies with a smile, hesitating, with true politeness, to ac- cept it. "Niver mind that," said the gallant Hibernian ; " I'd ride upon a cowcatcher to New York any time for a smile from such jintle- manly ladies." And he retired into the next car amid the cheers of his fellow- passengers. The two uses of slang are (1) to escape thought, and (2) to conceal it. (1) One escapes the mental exertion of selecting a fitting expression by using a stereotyped label that takes the place of all expressions. A few years ago the slang adjective was "red-hot." A pleasing entertain- ment, a becoming ribbon, delicious ice-cream, all were alike " red-hot." It was less wearisome to apply this epithet to all three than to select " pleasing," " becoming," and " delicious " as the suitable adjectives. Hence the use of slang, even more than the interpolation of foreign words (see page 366), indicates a limited vocabulary, and tends to limit it still further. As an illustration of the peculiarities of English slang the New Orleans Times recalls the anecdote of a young American lady in England who, while playing croquet, exclaimed at a surprisingly fortunate shot of an opposing player: "Oh! what a horrid scratch ! " whereupon a young English lady remarked : " You shouldn't use such language ; it's slang.'' " Well, what should I say ? " asked Miss America. ' ' Oh ! you should say. What a beastly fluke ! " (2) But slang also panders to a moral laziness, that shirks the responsibility of having convictions. Take for example the tendency in what are fashionable and claim to be refined circles in this country, and perhaps even more especially in England, to the use of vague and indefinite phrases, not so much to hide a deficiency of ideas as to cover discreet reti- cenciea of opinion, or prudent suppressions of natural and sponta- 376 PURITY. [Part IV. neous feeling. The practice of employing these empty sounds— they have no claim to be called words— is founded partly in a cau- tious desire of avoiding embarrassing self-committals, and partly in that vulgar prejudice of polite society which proscribes the^ex- pression of decided sentiments of admiration, approval, or dissatis- faction, or of precise and definite opinions upon any subject, as con- trary to the laws of good taste, indicative of a want of knowledge of the world, and moreover arrogant and pedantic. — Maesh. He was showing the man the new bay mule that he was working in a team with the old gray. "You warrant him pound, and perfectly kind and gentle?" the man said. " Perfectly," said Farmer John ; "my wife and children drive him, and he is a perfect pet. Comes into the house like a dog." " Easy to shoe ? " asked the man. " Well, I guess so; fact is, I never had him shod," I don't believe in it; he works better without it," said Far- mer John, " How does he act when you put the crupper on ? " asked the man. Farmer John hesitated, " Well, pretty good, I guess," he said ; " fact is, I never, put it on." " How does it get on ? " asked the man ; " who does put it on ? " "Well, Tkind of don't know," said Farmer John ; " fact is, he had the harness on when I got him, an' it fit him so well, an' he seemed to be so kine o' contented in it, like, that I sort of never took it off'n him." "And how long havn you had him ? " aslced the man. Farmer John chewed a wheat straw very meditatively. " Well," he said, " not to exceed more'n two year, mebbe." And the man backed a little further away, and said he would "sort of look round a little further before he bought, like." And Farmer John never saw him again, even unto this day. — Burlington Hawkeye. Where is slang jiermissible ? The answer is easy : No- where. A writer in Blackamod' s Magazine saj's that all educated people use three different kinds of English : " Old Saxon English when they go to church, or read good poetry ; vernacular or colloquial English, not altogether free from slang and vulgarity, when they talk to one another in the ordinary intercoui-se of life; and literary English when they make speeches or sermon,s, and write or read articles in reviews or books." This certainly is not true of all educated people, nor should it be true of any. The language of ordinaiy inter- course is less formal than that of the essay or the discourse, because the thought is less formal ; but with many people there is, and, with all educated people there sliould be, the same effort in both to give the purest as well as the Chap. XIX.] SLANG. 377 most exact expression to the thought as it is. So in- terpenetrated are thought and language, that slang in speech, even in the freest and most familiar intercom-se, betokens shabby ideas, inexact thought, and a low literary standard. Stilted and pedantic, speech is never to be ; but the easiest, most unassuming, and most delightful language of daily intercourse will be best assured where there is thorough mastery of reputable English, and where no other is heard. ExEECisE. — Give purity to the following sentences by altering words and expressions : People talk about the emancipation of the slaves, as if it could be done off-hand. How cheering it is to hear again the voice of a friend, who has for long been separated from us ! He does things in a careless, slip-slop manner. In the following year the tables were turned, and the party of the Queen-mother came into power. It was by such obsequious conduct that he curried favor with the leader of his party. He was deserted by his friends for good and all. Those who stick hy you and support you in adversity are true friends. Napoleon gained a great lot of battles before his career was finished. The secretary did not come up to the scratch till the close of the debate, when he more than insinuated that his master h&dipvi his foot in it. * Many of them came readily on deck, and being down on their marrow-bones, did not venture to rise till they were positively or- dered to do so. "How do you like my boots, love?" asked a youthful bride. " Oh, they're immense," he said. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Purity. I. English words, p. 853. a. Present usage, p. 353 1. Obsolete words, p. 354. 3. Novel words, p. 354. a. Wholly new words, p. 354. 1. New tilings and new thoughts need new words, p. 354. TECHNICAL WORDS. Proper use of teo'hnioal words, p. 356. 3. Masters of style may coin words, p. 359. 3. Temporary coinage occasionally permissible, p. 361 . 4. Factitious notoriety sometimes becomes popularity, p. 363. 5. Popular need gives rise to new words, p. 363. Newspapers not exponents of popular need, p. 363. ;8. Expansion and contraction of old words, p. 364. y. Combinations of old words, p. 365. b. National usage, p. 366. 1. Foreign usage, p. 366. a. Interpolation into English construction, p. 866. ;8. Adoption of foreign construction, p. 368. 1. Speaking another language unnecessarily, p. 368. 3. Employing foreign idioms, p. 369. 3. Provincialisms, p. 370. c. Reputable usage, p. 371. 1. Words unjustifiably created, p. 373. 3. Words misused, p. 373. Uses of slang. 1. To escape thought, p. 375. 3. To conceal thought, p. 375. Where is slang permissible, p. 376. CHAPTER XX. PROPRIETY. The opposite to logical truth is properly error ; to moral truth, a lie ; to grammatical truth, a blunder. — Campbell. ii. Authorized Definitions are probably less known by people who suppose tliey know them, than any other subject of information. To the majority of men, most words not representing the material necessities of life are mere counters, used and handed about with no ap- prehension of their meaning. One may be a voluminous readei', and yet know woi'ds inadequately. Unless he has formed the habit of looking up the dictionaiy discussion of unaccustomed words, his definition of them will be based upon the meaning he conjectured from the context to have been their signification in particular passages. When one remembers that all science is based on a few definitions ; that misunderstandings and quarrels and wars have grown out of words meant in one way by the speaker, and understood in another by the hearer, it will seem worth while to be sure one knows the meaning of the words he uses. Words are an amazing barrier to the reception of truth. . . . Definition of words has been commonly called a mere exercise of gramina«W|ns ; but when we come to consider the innumerable murders, prosbKJptions, massacres, and tortures which men have inflicted on each other from mistaking the meanings of words, the 380 PROPRIETY. [Pakt IV. exercise of definition certainly begins to assume a more dignified If you choose to quarrel with your eldest son, do it ; if you are determined to be dis- gusted with the world, and to go and live in Westmoreland, do so ; it you are resolved to quit your country, and settle in America, go ! — only, when you have settled the reasons upon which you take one or the other of these steps, have the goodness to examine whether the words in which these reasons are contained have any distinct meaning ; and if you find they have not, embrace your first-born, forget America, unloose your packages, and remain where you are. — Sybney Smith. A lecturer on natural history was called upon the other day to pay for a live rabbit which he had in a basket in a railway car, and which the conductor said would be charged the same as a dog. The lecturer vainly explained that he was going to use the rabbit in illustration of a lecture he was about to give in another town, and, indignantly taking a small live tortoise from his pocket, said : " You'll be telling me next that this is a dog, and that I must pay for it also." The conductor went for superior orders, and on his return delivered this lecture on natural history : " Cats is dogs, rabbits is dogs, but a tortus is a hinsect." The professor had to pay dog-fare for the rabbit. Forming Definitions of familiar words is in every way an admirable exercise, especially in class or in company, where there is the stimulus of emulation. These may be merely formal, like the following : The modern book is an assemblage of leaves, of convenient foi-m and dimensions, securely united at one edge, with pages regularly numbered, impressed with characters of different, but fixed forms, according to their several uses, words separated by spaces, members of the periods, and the periods themselves, dis- tinguished by appropriate points, and the whole cut up into para- graphs, sections, and chapters, according to the natural divisions of the subject, or the convenience of the writer, printer, or reader, and, finally, abundantly provided with explanatory notes and refer- ences, and ample tables of contents and indexes. — Marsh. But they will be moi-e interesting and more valuable when they reach those intangible ' ideas that find their definition in one's life experience ; that to the boy are abstract ideas, while to the man they overflow with a thou- sand memories. Of these, the following is an instance : Sensibility is a constitutional quickness of sympathy with pain and pleasure, and a keen sense of the gratific^Ons that accom- Chap. XX.] MALAPROPS. 381 pany social intercourse, mutual endearments, and reciprocal pref- erences. — COLEEIDGB. Propriety may be violated by using words that for the meaning intended are (a) Inaccurate, or (b) Inappro- priate. (a) Inaccurate Words are often called malapropos, a word which recalls Mrs. Malaprop, a character in Sheri- dan's comedy, " The Rivals." It was she who wanted her niece to illiterate a lover from her memory, who declared Sir Anthony was an absolute misanthropy, and who discoursed as follows on the education of women : Observe me, Sir Anthony, I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning. I don't think so much learning becomes a young woman ; for in- stance, I would never let her meddle with Greek, or Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or fluxions, or pnradoxes, or such Inflammatory branches of learning ; neither would it be necessary for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical instni- ments. But, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to a boarding-school, in order to learn her a little ingenuity and artifice. Then, sir, she should have a super- cilious knowledge in accounts ; and as she grew up I would have her instructed in geom- etry, that she might know something of the contagious countries; but above all, Sir Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might not mis-spell, and mis- ])ronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do ; and likewise that she might repre- hend the true meaning of what she is saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know ; and I don't think there Is a superstitious article in it. Presently she remarks that nothing is so conciliating to you young people as severity, prepares her niece to receive Captain Absolute's invocations, and hopes the captain will not consider her wholly illegible. She is glad to get her niece from under her intuition, and assures her maid that unless she is faithful, she will forfeit her mistress's malevolence forever, while her being a simple- ton shall be no excuse for her locality. To Captain Absolute she says that his being his father's son is a sufficient accommodation, but from the ingenuity of his appearance she is convinced he deserves the character given of him. Few gentlemen, she sighs, know how to appreciate the ineffectual qualities in a woman, and after pro- nouncing the captain the very pine-apple of politeness, drops into grammatical phrase as follows : I am sure I have done everything in my power since T exploded the affair. Long ago I laid my positive conjunctions on her never to think on the fellow again. I have sinco 382 PROPEIBTY. [Pabt IV. laid Sir Anthony's preposition before her ; but, I am sorry to say, she seems resolved to decline every particle that I enjoin her. . . . Oh, it gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree ! I thought she had persisted from corresponding with him ; but, behold, this very day 1 have interceded another letter from the fellow. ,, . . There,sir, an attack uvion my language \ What do you think of that ? — au aspersion upon my parts of speech I Was ever such a brute ! Sure, if I reprehend anything in this world, it is the use of my oracular tongue, and a nice derangement of epitaphs ! . Then he's so well bred — so full of alacrity, and adulation, and has so much to say for himself— in such good language, too. His physiognomy is so grammatical. Then his presence is so noble I I protest, when I saw him, I thought of what Hamlet says in the play : Hesperian cnrls — the front of Job himself ! Au eye, like March, to threaten at command I A station, like Hari-y Mercury, new — Something about kissing — on a hill — however, the similitude struck me directly. , . . Well, Sir Anthony, since you desire it, we will not anticipate the past ; so mind, young people, our retrospection will be all to the future. . . . So ? so ? Here's fine work ! — here's fine suicide, parricide, and simulation going on in the fields I And Sir Anthony not to be found to prevent the antistrophe ! . That gentleman can tell you — 'twas he enveloped the affair to me . . . but he can tell you the perpendiculars. . . . We should only participate things, , . ., Nay, no delusions to the jiast. Etc. Similar blunders are found where they could hardly be looked for. I do not know what character you have for accuracy. — Moobe. I tlius obtained a character for natural powers of reasoning, which I could not refute, and yet which I felt were undeserved. — A. B. Edwaeds. [An almost incredible series of blujiders, but found in her re- cent novel, " Miss Carew."] The reciprocal civility of authors is one of the most risible scenes in the farce of life. — Dr. Johnson. There are two modes of estimating the relative amount of words derived from different sources in a given language. ^Maesh. Macaulay speaks of the ohservation of the Sabbath. "William Taylor wrote, in 1814: '* A moral and political rather than a beautiful value." Addison speaks of apoplectic balsam. Cowper has ludicrous talent. I have read of a miscellaneous au- thor. Yet we have sick rooms and dying beds, insane asylums, mad houses. — Hall. See use oi personality^ p. 47. Chap. XX,] MALAPROPS. 383 Classical Words. — It will be noticed tliat Mrs. Malaprop's blunders are mostly in the use of words derived from the Latin. For this as well as for other reasons pi'eference should be given to the shorter words of Anglo-Saxon oi'igin, where the root is not lost in the mazes of a voluminous tail. However certain a writer may be that his use of English is correct, he cannot be sure that his hearers will apprehend it correctly. Every blunder in speech represents a score of blunders in hear- ing. The little girl that, after singing Sunday after Sun- day, The consecrated cross I'll bear Till death shall set me free, inquired with languid curiosity what kind of a bear a con- secrated cross-eyed bear was, anyway, has many uncon- scious fellow-sufferers, even in intelligent congregations. Mrs. A. : "Now, Mrs. B., will you come and see our apiary?" Mrs. B. (who has been putting it off all the afternoon) : "Well, Mrs. A., the thing is, you know, I'm — I'm rather afraid of mon- keys ! " Gent to the waiter : " Bring me some grammatical and typo- graphical errors." Waiter (looking puzzled at first, but recovering in a moment his usual serenity) : "We are just out of them, sir." " Then what do you mean by keeping them on your bill of fare ? " "Are you the judge of reprobates?" said the Boston Posi's Mrs. Partington, as she walked into an office of a Judge of Pro- . bate. " I am a Judge of Probate,'' was the reply. "Well, that's it, I expect,'' quoth the old lady. "You see, my father died detested, and he left several little infidels, and I want to be their executioner ! " A gentleman, m ishing to be undisturbed one day, instructed his Irish servant to admit no one, and, if any one should inquire for him, to give him an " equivocal answer." Night came, and the gentleman proceeded to interrogate Pat as to his callers. "Did any one call?" "Yis, sur, wan gentleman." "What did he say?" "He axed was yer honor in?" "Well, what did you 384 PROPKIBTY. [Pabt IV. tell him ? " " Sijre, I gave him a quivikle answer jist." " How was that ? " "I axed him was his grandmother a monkey ! " Further, it is a certain fact that when we are much accustomed to particular terms, we can scarcely avoid f ancyiiig that we under- stand them, whether they have a meaning or not. — Campbelii. Mankind in general are se little in the habit of looking steadily at their own meaning, or of weighing the words by which they express it, that the writer who is careful to do both will some- times mislead his readers through the very excellence which qualifies him to be their instructor ; and this with no other fault on his part than the m.odest mistake of supposing in those to whom he addresses himself an intellect as watchful as his own. — CoiiEKIDGE. Short Words are Best. — While it should be the writer's first effort to express his meaning as exactly as possible, and while this will often require all the re- sources of his vocabulary, alike of Anglo-Saxon and of classical origin, yet where there is a choice between the crisp, vigorous, unmistakable Saxon, and the ornate, sono- rous Latin, choice should fall upon the former, as not only in better taste, but as comparatively free from liability to misapprehension. You will often find that a sentence, every word of which may be authorized English, has a sickly haze hanging over it, as you im- agine your utterance of it to your hearers, which is entirely due to its Latin vocabulary. It becQjnes transparent the instant you strike out Norman words from the points of emphasis, and put Saxon words in their places. — Phelps. Valuable as the Latin adjuncts to our language are, in the ap- preciation of their value it should never be forgotten that they are adjuncts. The ivitnM, the sinews, the nerves, the heart's 'blood, in brief, the body and soul of our language is English ; Latin and Greek furnish only its limbs and outward flourishes. — ^R. G. White. Exercise. — Use simpler words in the following sen- tences : Chap. XX.] " "JOHNSONESE." 385 Their hearts are like that of the principle of evil himself — in- corporeal, pure, unmixed, dephlegmated, defecated evil. — Bobkb. We may well commend it to the chaplain of a nervine hospi- tal, in which patients congregate who are aflBicted with insomnia. — Phelps. I would inculcate the importance of a careful study of genuine English, and a conscientious scrupulosity in its accurate use. — Maesh. There is very little affinity, either in sense or in sound, between precept and doctrine ; and nothing but an oscitancy from which no writer whatever is uniformly excepted, can account for so odd a misapplication of a familiar term. — Campbell. They agreed to liomologate the choice that had been made. Some writers confine their attention to minutice of style. His de- mission of office caused a great sensation. If we wish to improve our taste, we must become versant with the best classical writers. Ceteris paribus, when a Saxon and a Latin word offer themselves, we should choose the Saxon. The amende honorable having been made, a hostile meeting was prevented. The subject will be treated ad longum in the next edition of the work. The produc- tion was a chef-d'cewBre of ingenuity. They entered into the con- cern with great gusto. He was evidently laboring under some hallucination. My friend has a great knack at remarks. Our cice- rone first conducted us through the principal buildings of the city. The mania for French fashion still prevails. It was not considered quite comme il faut for us to appear. The animus that pervaded the address was manifest throughout. As the company retired, a ludicrous contretemps took place. "Johnsonese" is a term frequently applied to writing that abounds in words of Latin derivation, so called from Dr. Sanmel Johnson, its great exponent. It is clear that Johnson himself did not think in the dialect in which he wrote. The expressions which came first to his tongue were simple, energetic, and picturesque. When he wrote for pub- lication, he did his sentences out of English into Johnsonese. His letters from the Hebrides to Mrs. Thrale are the original of that work of which the "Journey to the Hebrides" is the translation, and 386 paOPRIBTY. [Pakt IV. it is amusing to compare the two versions. " When we were taken up-stairs,'' says he in one of his letters, " a dirty fellow bounced out of the bed on which one of us was to lie." This incident is recorded in the " Journey" as follows : " Out of one of the beds on which we were to repose, started up, at our entrance, a man black as a Cyclops from the forge." Sometimes Johnson translated aloud. " 'The Eehearsal,' " he said, very unjustly, "has not wit enough to keep it sweet ; " then, after a pause, " it has not vitality enough to keep it from putrefaction." — Macaulat. In a note on Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed Should make desire vomit from emptineBS ; which Johnson explains, " fed the convulsions of eructation with- out plenitude."^ — Hudson. Dr. Parr seems to think that eloquence consists not in an abun- dance of beautiful images — not in simple and sublime conceptions — not in the feelings of the passions ; but in a studious arrange- ment of sonorous, exotic, and sesquipedal words ; a very ancient error, which corrupts the style of the young, and wearies the pa- tience of Sensible men. — Stdnet Smith. Junius did much to liinit, Oobbett sbmething to overthrow, the influence of the stilted Latinism of Johnson and his school, and to bring back the language, if not to a Saxon vocabulary, at least to an idiomatic gramntiatic structure. — Mabsh. Modern taste shows a marked preference for short words. Marsh gives a table of percentages to show that the best writers of the present day habitually employ in both prose and poetry a larger proportion of Anglo-Saxon words than the best writers of the last century. Think noi;, that strength lies ifi the hig round word ; Or that the brief and plain mnet needs be weak. To whom can this be true who once has heard The cry for help, the tongue that all men speak When want, or woe, or fear, is in the throat,. So that each word gasped out is like a shriek Pressed from the sore heart, or a strange wild note Sung by some fay or fiend ? There is a strength Which dies if stretched too far or spun too fine ; Which has more weight than breadth, more depth than length. Chap. XX.] SHORT WORDS. 38t Let but this force be mine, of thought and speech, And he that will may take the sleek fat phrase Whicli glows and burns not, though it gleam and shine ; Light but no heat ; a flash without a blaze I Nor is it mere strength that the short word boasts. It serves of mope than fight or storm to tell. The roar of waves that clash on rock-bound coasts ; The crash of tall tiees when the wild winds swell ; The roar of guns, Ihe groans of meu that die On blood-stained fields. It has a voice as well For them that weep ; for them that mourn the dead. For them that laugh, and dance, and clap the hand : To joy's quick step, as well as grief's slow tread. The sweet plain words we learnt at first keep time ; And though the theme be sad, or gay, or grand, With such, with all, these may be made to chime In thought, or speech, or song, or prose, or rhyme. J. Addison Alexander. The English of our Bible is good. Now and then some long words are found, and they always hurt the verses in which you find them. Take that which says, " O ye generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come ? " There is one long word which ought not to be in, namely, " generation." In the old version the old word " brood " is used. Read the verse again with this term, and you feel its full force : " O ye viper's brood, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come ? " Crime sometimes does not look like crime, when it is set before us in many folds of a long word. When a man steals and we call it "defalcation," weare at a loss to know if it is a blunder or acrime. If he does not tell the truth, and we are told that it is a case of "prevarication," it takes us some time to know just what we should think of it. No man will ever cheat himself into wrong-doing, nor will he be at a loss to judge of others, if he thinks and speaks of acts in clear, crisp terms. It is a good rule, if one is at a loss to know if an act is right or wrong, to write it down in short, straight-out English. — Hoba'HO Seymour. Examples. — There is only one principle of public conduct — Do what you think rigJU, and take place and powei- as an accident. 388 PROPRIETY. [Pakt IV. Upon an J other plan, office is shabbiness, labor, and sorrow. — S^d- NBY Smith. Here is a Chinese version of the parable of the Prodigal Son, which was read at a festival of the Chinese Sunday-schools in New York: A man, he two sons. Son speak he to father ; fiAher he got money ; give some he ; father he take it all right. I just now give you half. He give him half ; he go long way — like me come China to New York. No be careful of ifloney, use too much money, all gone ; he very hungry. He go to man. He want work, lie say, all right ; he tell him feed pigs. He give pigs beans ; he eat with pigs himself. He just now talk, " My father he rich man- -too much money. What for me stay here hungry ? I want to go back and see my father. I say to him, 1 very bad. He knows I bad. Emperor (God) see I bad. No be son, may be coolie." He go back; long way, father see him. He take him on the neck. The son say, "I very bad. I just now no be your son ; I coolie." His father talkey to boy, and say, " Get handsome coat ; give he ring, give he shoes ; bring fat cow — kill him, give him to eat." They very glad. He all same dead, just come back alive ; he lost ; he get back. Number one son come. He hear music ; he tell servant. " What for they make mu- sic ? " , He say, "Your brothel* come back; your father very glad he no sick; he kill fat cow.v Number one son very angry ; he no go inside ; very angry. Father he come out ; he say, "No be angrj'." Number one son he say, " I stay all time by father ; never make him angry. My father never kill one fat cow for me. My brother he be very bad ; he use money too much ; he have fat cow and music." Father say, "You no see ; he just dead, he now come to life ; he lost, he now come back." They make music. (b) Inappropriate Words may convey the mean- ing unmistakably, but are not in accordance witli the English idiom. A Frenchman, while looking at a number of vessels, exclaimed, " See what a flock of ships ! " He was told that a flock of ships was called a fleet, but that a fleet of sheep was called a flock. To assist him in maSiterjng the intricacies of the English language, he was told that a flock of girls was called a bevy, that a bevy of wolves is called a pack, but that a pack of cards is never called a bevy, though a pack of thieves is called a gang, and a gang of an- gels is called a host, while a host of porpoises is termed a shoal. He was told that a host of oxen is termed a herd, and a herd of Chap. XX.] SOLECISMS. 389 children is called a troop, and a troop of partridges is termed a covey, and a covey of beauty is called a galaxy, and a galaxy of ruffians is called a horde, and a horde of rubbish is called a heap, and a heap of bullocks is called a drove, and a drove of blackguards is called a mob, and a mob of whales is called a school, and a school of worship is called a congregation, and a congregation of engineers is called a corps, and a coi-ps of robbers is called a band, and a band of locusts is called a crowd, and a crowd of gentlefolks is called the elite. The last word being French, the scholar under- stood it and asked no more. (Compare page li.) Hi. Grammatical Construction should have been learned in previous text-books, and we can allude here only to those errors so frequent that they need espe- cial avoidance. A violation of propriety of this kind is called a solecism. {a.) In Gender. — A common and deplorable affecta- tion in speech has been thus ridiculed : " So you have finished your studies at the seminary ? I was much pleased with the closing exercises. The author of that poem — Miss Wait, I think you called her — bids fair to become known as a poet.'' " We think the authoress will become celebrated as a poetess," remarked the young lady pertly, with a marked emphasis on two words of the sentence. " Oh ! — ah ! " replied the old gentleman, looking thoughtfully over his spectacles at the young lady. " I hear her sister was quite an actress, and under Miss Hosmer's instructions will undoubtedly become quite a sculptress.'' The young lady appeared irritated. " The seminary," continued the old gentleman, with impertur- bable gra^Wty, "is fortunate in having an efficient board of mana- geresses. From the presidentess down to the humblest teacheress, unusual talent is shown. There is Miss Harper, who, as a chemist- ress, is unequalled, and Mrs. Knowles has already a reputation as an astronomeress. And in the department of music few can equal Miss Kellogg as a singeress," 390 PROPRIETY. [Part IV. The young lady did not appear to like the chair she was sitting on. She took the sofa at tlie other end of the room. " Yes,'' continued the old gentleman, as if talking to himself, "those White Sisters are very talented. Mary, I understand, has turned her attention to painting and the di-ama, and will surely be- come famous as a painteress and even as a lecturess." A loud slamming of the door caused the old gentleman to look up : the oriticess and grammarianess was gone. Perhaps it was one of her fellow-studentesses who re- plied, when asked the gender a£ " academy," tliat slie sup- posed that depended upon whether it was -a male or a female academy. The following, from the appendix to Mark Twain's " The Tramp Abroad," illustrates some of the difficulties of the German language which Englisli students escape : It is a bleak day. Hear the rain, how he potirs; and the hail, how he rattles ; and see the snow, how he drifts along ; and oh, the mud, how deep he is ! Ah ! the poor fishwife, it is stuck fast in the mire ; it has dropped its basket of fishes ; and ita hands have been cut by the scales as it fceized some of the falling creatures, and one scale has even got into its eye, and it cannot get her out. It opens her mouth to cry for help ; but if any sound comes out of him, alas, he is drowned by the raging of the storm ! And how a tom-cat has got one of the fishes, and she will surely es cape with him. No ; she bites off a fin, she holds it in her mouth — she will swal- low her ? No ; the fishwife's brave mother-dog deserts his puppies and rescues the fin, when he eats himself as his "reward ! Oh, hor- ror, the lightning has struck the fish-basket ! He sets him on fire. See the flame, how she licks the doomed utensil with her angry tongue ! Now she attacks the fishwife's foot — she burns him up, all but the big toe, and even she is partly consumed ; and still she spreads^ still she waves her fiery tongues ! She attacks the fishwife's leg and destroys it ; she attacks its poor worn gar- ment and destroys her also ; she attacks its body and consumes him ; she wreathes herself about its heart and it is consumed ; jiext about its breastj and in a moment she is a cinder ; now she C;iAP. XX.] SOLECISMS. 391 reaches its neck — he goes ; now its chin — it goes ; now its nose — she goes. In another moment, except help come, the fishwife will be no more ! Time presses — is there none to succor or save ? Yes ! Joy, joy ! With flying feet the she-Englishwoman comes ! But, alas, the generous she-female is too late f Where now is the fated fishwife ? It has ceased from its suffering ; it has gone to a better land ; all that is left of it for its loved ones to lament over is this poor smouldering ash-heap. Ah, woful, woful ash-heap ! Let us take him up tenderly, reverently, upon the lowly shovel, and bear him to his long rest, with the prayer that when he rises again it will be in a realna where he will have one good square re- sponsible sex, and have it all to himself, instead of having a mangy lot of assorted sexes scattered all over him in spots. (5) In Case the cotninonest errors are shown in tlie following instances : He was by nature less ready than her. — TboiiLOPe. As mad as them. — BoiiIngbroke. I esteem you more than [I do] they. I esteem you more than them [do]. Do you believe your affirming they are not married will bring both him and I to give up the lady ? — Vanbrtjgh. Why should I be told to serve Him, if I do not know whom it is I serve ? — Florence Nightingale. You can keep this letter and show it to -whoever you like. — H. T. Buckle. These men, no matter who spoke or whom was addressed. — Dickens. And now my clasBraates ; ye remaining few That number not the half of those we knew, Ye against whose familiar names not yf-t The fatal asterisk of death is set, Yc I salute. — Longfellow. Thackeray, having been requested to write in a lady's album, found on scanning its contents the subjoined lines : Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains — - They crowned him long ago ; But who tliey got to put it on Nohody seems lo know. — Albert Suxth. 392 PROPRIETY. [Part IV. Under these Thackeray speedily wrote the following : I know that Albert wrote in a hurry ; To criticise I scarce presume ; But yet methinks that Lindley Murray Instead ottoho had written fDhntn, — W. M. Thackebat. An Amherst professor knocked at the door of a room where students were carousing late at night. "Who 'is there?" asked one of the students. " It is me." " Well, who is ' me ' ? " " Pro- fessor ." "Oh, go away! you can't fool us that way": Pro- fessor • would say ' It is I !' " And Professor went away. (c) In Number, Rushton's rules cannot be bet- tered : 1. When the two or more nouns in the singular mean different things, or represent distinct ideas, put the verb in the plural. 2. But when the two nouns mean the same thing, or very nearly the same, strike out one of them, put the verb in the singular, and learn to avoid using two words where one is enough. Thus the following sentences should be corrected : The reference and construction of the concluding words in the next quotation is very indefinite. — Campbell. And it will in general be found that the use and signification of the interjections employed in any language furnishes a tolerable key to the character of the people who speak it. — Maksh. Nevertheless a clear objective conception and comprehension of the general principles of syntax is very desirable. — Maesh. The zeal of the seraphim breaks forth in a becoming warmth of sentiments and expressions, as the character ■which is given us of him denotes that generous scorn and intrepidity which attends heroic virtue.- — Spectatw. Personal refinement, extending to finish, care, and precision, and a certain deliberation and thought in relation to the details of the manner of living, gives a personal dignity which is absent in the usual rush and tear of modern life. Mr. Euskin expatiates somewhere on the vulgarity of being in a hurry, and assuredly nothing that is worth doing is the better done for being unaccom- panied by the personal dignity which results from such refinement of habit. — Pall Mall Gazette. Chap. XX.] SOLECISMS : NUMBER. 393 A common blunder is to put a plural verb after a singu- lar subject, tlirougli the misleading influence of attributes of the subject intervening. Thus ; A great part of the differences with respect to the language of the educated classes in the United States and in England grow out of the different circumstances and employments of the people of the two countries. — Worcester's Dictionary. Find an illustration on page 79. As to expressions like " Five dollars was paid," or " Five dollars were paid," usage is divided. The general rule is of course that the verb is to be singular or to be plural according as the subject is in idea (not necessarily in form) singular or plural. But in the application of this rule some writers seem to have as indistinct ideas of what the plural number is as the young lady had who gave for the plural of "forget-me-not" — " forget-ns-not," and who " mentioned six animals of the polar regions " by naming " three polar bears, and three seals." Thus, Worcester's Dictionary says on page 1 : A considerable number of these provlncialiflms are to be fonnd, etc. While two pages later we find : There is a considerable number of words. The New York Tribune lately has obstinately adhered to the opinion that sentences like the following should have their verbs in the singular number : " The usual number of applicants for ad- mission to the freshman class was examined in June." And here is the London Academy sanctioning the same silly notion : "An innumerable multitude of small errors disfigures his pages.'' These editors will tell us that " number " and "multitude" being collec- tive nouns but singular as regards form should be followed by sin- gular verbs. But any Second-Reader scholar could tell them that the real subjects of the sentences are "applicants" and " errors," both plural nouns. If we say « "number of applicants was," etc., we must also say "a pair of birds is singing to each other," "a couple of deaths was reported," and " a score of persons is to take 394 PROPRIETY. [Part IV. part in the services." It need not be difficult to determine what is the apparent and what the real subject of a verb if one will trust common-sense. — JV". G. Advocate. It is probable that not one in ten of the English plays written be- fore the time of Shakspere have escaped destruction. — E. G. White. As any of these three qualifications are most conspicuous and prevail ing. — Addison. Ignorance or dulness have, indeed, no power of affording de- light ; but they never give disgust, except when they assume the dignity of knowledge, or ape the sprightliness of wit. — Rambler. I doubt if more than one of these deserve acceptation. — H at.t, . To connect both a singular and a plural verb with the same subject is usually inexcusable. We must still dread that extraordinai-y facility to which human nature is so prone, as sometimes to laugh at what at another time they would shed teais. — Coleridge. Pleasure, or pain, which seizes us unprepared and by surprise, have a double force, and are both more capable of subduing the mind, than when they come upon us looking for them, and pre- pared to receive them. — Fibi/Ding. Constructions should be avoided that use the same word first collectively and tlien distributively ; as, The Legisla- ture, who were incorruptible men, was above influence. You was is among the most offensive of solecisms. In conversation you will perhaps ten times oftener hear people say, "There's the books you wanted," than "These are the books — ;" and "You was present," when a single person is ad- dressed, than "You were present." Yet good use is always con- sidered as declaring solely for the last mode of expression in both cases. — Campbell. In writings of the last century, " you was " is occasion- ally met with. You was pushed to the utmost by your creditors. — Blaib, ii. 108. When you was most in earnest. ^-Id., ii. 133. Sir, was you ever in Muscovy? — Vanbrugh. Chap. XX.] SOLECISMS : MOOD. 395 Impersonal Verbs. — When a verb is used imper- sonallj' it ought undoubtedly to be in the singular number, whether the neuter pronoun be expressed or understood, and when no nominative in the sentence can be regularly construed with the verb, it ought to be considered as im- personal. For this reason analogy as well as usage favor this mode of expression, "The conditions of the agreement were as follows" and not as follow. — Campbell. id) In Mood, the principal danger is the neglect of the subjunctive. There are those who would do awaj^ with this distinction of thought, but it cannot be spared by those who would be masters of exact expression. You are speaking to me of a man of whom I am personally ig- norant, and I say : " If he is such a man as you represent him, he will do thus and so." As I do not know the man, there must be in my statement some degree of contingency — which is expressed by " if." But by coupling " if " with the declarative [indicative], I imply my willingness to accept your testimony conoei-ning the man. My thought, fully expressed, is : "If (I, myself, know noth- ing about him), but if he is (as, on your testimony, I am willing to admit) such a man as you represent him, he will do thus and so." To say : "If he be such a man as you represent him," would imply that I doubted either your veracity or your judgment. My thought, expanded, would be, "If he be such a man as you represent him (and on that point, notwithstanding your testimony, I have no opinion to express) he will do thus and so." The tendency to obliterate ttie distinction that has been indi- cated, is very strong at the present day ; but it ought to be pre- served, and must — in order to the intelligent study of English literature —be understood. — Gilmobe. The subjunctive form is, however, to be avoided except where the condition is assumed to be doubtful. Thus : Surely it would be desirable that some person who knew Sir Walter . . . should be charged with this article. — Macauiay. 396 PROPKIBTr. [Part IV. It would he a good thing, but it is desirable. If ever man's humor were [was] useful to instruct as well as de- light, it was that of Michael Angelo Titmarsh. — G. B. Smith. It would doubtless have exhibited itself quietly enough if it were [had been] absolutely meditated. — Justin McOaethy. (e) In Tense, a common fault is the use of the past for the perfect ; as, Of antiquated or obsolete words, none will be inserted but such as are to be found in authors who wrote since the accession of Elizabeth, from which we date the golden age of our language. — Johnson. Find the past used for the pluperfect on page 49. Or in the use of the perfect for the past ; as, In yesterday's paper we have shown. — .Addison. Another, not unfrequently an affectation on the part of young writers who esteem an expression elegant in propor- tion to the number of sj'llables it contains, is the use of the perfect iniinitive for the present. The compound past infinitive also, formerly very frequent, is al- most disused. Lord Berners says : should have aided to have de- stroyed, had made haste to have entered, and the like, and this was common in colloquial usage until a very recent period. In cases of this sorb, where the relations of time are clearly expressed by the first auxiliary, it is evident that nothing is gained by employ- ing a second auxiliary to fix more precisely the category of the in- finitive, but where the simple inflected past tense precedes the infinitive, there is sometimes ground for the employment of an aux- iliary with the latter. I intended to go, and I intended to have gone, do not necessarily express the same thing, but the latter form is not likely long to resist the present inclination to make the infin- itive strictly aoristic, and such forms as I hid intended to go will supersede the past tense of the latter mood. — Mabsh. Campbell thus illustrates the distinction : Chap. XX.] SOLECISMS : TENSE. 397 " I commanded him not to do it, and he ought not to have done it." So one may say, " I should have liked to read the story you had, but I should like to have read through eveiy page of Webster's Dictionary." ' ; If the traveller is in haste, and wants rather to have seen the country and the people than to see them, let him take the dili- gence. — John Labodchb. It was the elder Sheridan, was it not, who asked his son with disgust why he insisted upon going down into a coal mine ? " To say I have been there," replied the junior. " Then why the dick- ens don't you say you have been there, and save the soot ? " There are many that would like to have descended a coal-shaft, who would not have liked to descend. Correct the following sentences : I intended to have insisted on this sympathy at greater length. — Etjskin. I had hoped never to have seen the statues again when I missed them on the bridge. — Maoaulat. When I inserted the stripes and curves, her delight was such that I greatly feared she would have embraced me. — C. W. Dilke. Universal truths, or permanent arrangements, are ex- pressed in the present tense ; as, He testified that in that country the snow is red. The chief occasion of mistake on this point is when a universal truth is stated as maintained or denied by some one in the past, e.g., "He denied that electricity and magnetism were (are) the same agents." — Hodgson. The proprietor of a summer resort, who kept in the newspapers a standing advertisement, headed, " There are no mosquitoes at this hotel ! " defended himself, when swarms of them were pointed out, by declaring that the card was written in the spring, when there wasn't a mos- quito to be seen. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Propriety. II. Authorized definitions, p. 379. Forming definitions, p. 380. Propriety violated by using. a. Inaccurate words, p. 381. Classical words, p. 383. Short words are best, p. 384. Johnsonese, p. 385. Modern taste, p. 386. 1). Inappropriate words, p. 388. in. Grammatical construction, p. 389. a. Errors in gender, p. 389. J. Errors in case, p. 391. c. Errors in number, p. 392. You was, p. 394. Impersonal verbs, p. 395. d. Errors in mood, p. 395. e. Errors in tense, p. 396. CHAFTEE XXI. ~ PRECISION. The calling two or more different things by -one and the same Tiame (ceque vocare) [hence equivocation] is the source of almost all error in human discourse. He who wishes to throw dust in the eyes of an opponent, to hinder his arriving at the real facta of a case, will often have recourse to this artifice, and thus to equivocate^ and equivoca- tion have attained their present secondary meaning. — Teench. Precision requires the exact expression of the thought to be conveyed. It demands attention (1) to the Words employed, and (2) to the Construction, that in stating the thought the sentence may tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. (I) Words may lack precision (a) through the con- founding of synonyms, (b) through the use of Equivocal "Words, or (c) of General Words. (a) Synonyms are by etymology words that have precisely the same signification. The English language has very few such, hegin and commence being perhaps as near approximations as can be found. But the term is extended to include words that have very nearly the same meaning, but express shades of difference in signification. To form an idea of the extent to whioli our language has been desynonymized, one has only to compare together our words de- rived mediately or immediately from the Latin, and those which they at first represented. Of these pairs there are hundreds upon hundreds ; and yet of not a single pair are the members strictly identical in import. Take for example add and sour, cordial and 400 PRECISION. [Part IV. hearty, crime and guilt, divine and godlike, juvenile and youthful, lucid and bright, miserable and unhappy, ponderous and weighty, portion and share, quantity and deal, sufficient and enough. Where, moreover, two words, one of which is a material corruption of the other, are taken from a foreign source, we find them very far from being synonyms. Cure and care, engine and gin, paralysis and palsy, penitence andpenance, phantasy and. fancy, piety anipity, are instances in point. — ^Hail. How important these fine distinctions are is shown on almost every page of standard authors. Take the follow- ing instances from Coleridge : 's face is almosb the only exception I know to the observa- tion that something feminine^ — not effeminate, mind, is discovera- ble in the countenances of all men of genius. — Works, vi. 384. Dr. Hennage said to Luther, " Sir, when you say that the Holy Spirit ie the certainty in the word towards God, that is, that a man is certain of his own mind and opinion ; then it must needs follow that all sects have the Holy Ghost, for they will needs be most certain of their doctrine and religion." — LutAer^s Table Talk. Luther might have answered, "Positive, you mean, not certain." —V. 278. I am by the law of my nature a reasoner. A person who should suppose I meant by that word an arguer would not only not un- derstand me, but would understand the contrary of my meaning. I can take no interest whatever in hearing or saying anything merely as a fact — merely as having happened. It must refer to something within me before I can regard it with any curiosity or care. My mind is always energio— I don't mean energetic ; I re- quire in everything what for lack of another word I may c&\lp9-o- priety — that is, a reason why the thing is' at all, and why it is there or then rather than elsewhere or at another time. — vi. 503. While Purity demands that a word be in itself good English, and Propriety demands that it be used in one of the significations belonging to it, Precision still further demands that this signification exactly express the thought to be conveyed. Faults in Purity and in Propriety can be discerned and pronounced upon by the reader. Faults Chap. XXI.] EOGET'S THESAURUS. 401 in Precision must often be left to the detection of the writer himself, who should know better than another ex- actly what he wants to express. An extensive vocabulary is one of the requisites to precision (see pages xxvi, 347). Only by letting all the woi'ds allied in meaning pass in review before the mind, can one be certain that the exact word has been selected. For this purpose thei-e is one aid so far superior to all others that its use should be understood even by young writers. This is Eoget's " Thesaurus of English Words." To illustrate its comprehensiveness and the manner of its use, suppose the thought in my mind is, " Miss Abbott's dress looks genteel," but that I have just learned this adjective is no longer used in a commendatory sense (see page 373), and that I wish to replace it by a synonym. Turning in the index to the word "genteel," I find the num- bers " 852, 875," indicating the paragraphs that include this word. Turning to 852, I find this list : Fashion, style, mode, vogue. Manners, breeding, politeness, good biShavior, gentility, decorum, punctilio, form, formality, etiquette, custom, demeanor, air, port, carriage, presence. Show, equipage, etc., see 882. The world, the fashionable world, high life, town, court, gentility, civilization, civil- ized life, see Nobility, 875. Verba. — To be fashionable, etc. Alijectives. — Fashionable, in fashion, in vogue, modish, stylish, courtly, genteel, well- bred, well-behaved, poli&hed, gentlemanly, lady-like, well-spoken, civil, presentable, refined, thorough-bred, unembarrassed. Adverbs, — Fashionably, in fashion, etc. None of these words quite replace my "genteel," so I turn to 875. Here I find : Nobility, noblesse, aristocracy, peerage, gentry, gentility, quality, rank, blood, birtb, fashionable world, etc. 862, distinction, etc. A personage, man of distinction, rank, etc.; a nobleman, lord, peer, grandee, don, gentleman, squire, patrician, lordling. Prince, duke, marquis, earl, viscount, baron, baronet, knight, count, esquire, etc., see 746. Verbs. — To be noble, etc. Af^ectiven. — Noble, exalted, princely, of rank, titled, patrician, aristocratic, high- born, well-born, genteel, gentlemanly, fashionable, etc., 852. 402 PRECISION. [Part IV No word hei'6 qu.ite meets the want, so I turn to tlie cross ref- erences. Under 882 I find : Ostentation, display, show, flourish, parade, pomp, state, solemnity, pageantry, dash, glitter, strut, magnificence, pomposity, pretensions, showing off. Pageant, spectacle, procession, turn out, gala, regatta. Ceremonj', ceremonial, mummery, solemn mockery ; formality, form, etiquette, punc tilio, punctiliousness, frippery, court dress, etc. Verbs. — To be ostentatious, etc.; to display, exhibit, show off, come forward, put one's self forward, flaunt, emblazon, glitter ; make or cut a figure; dash, to figure. To observe or stand on ceremony, etiquette, etc. Adjectives.— OstentatioTiB, showy, gaudy, garish, dashing, flaunting, glittering, pomp- ous, sumptuous, theatrical. Pompous, solemn, stately, high-sounding, formal, stiff, ceremonious, punctilious. Still I am unsatisfied, so I turn to 745. This I find to be, as I might have expected, a list of titles, useless for this search. Under 852 the words given remind me of " natty,'' a favorite with Thackeray. That will hardly answer my purpose, as it im- plies an attempt at effect, like '^ spruce." I look in the index for "natty," but do not find it, so I turn to the allied adjective "spruce.'' This has in the index two references: " neat, 652 ; beautiful, 845." I find that the words under 652 have reference only to the condition of an article, without reference to its ma- terial or form ; so none of them will answer. Under 845 I find these adjectives : Beautiful, handsome, fine, pretty, lovely, graceful, elegant, delicate, refined, fair, comely, seemly, well-favored, proper, shapely, well-made, well-formed, well-propor- tioned,- symmetrical, becoming, goodly, neat, spruce, sleek, bright-eyed, attractive, curious. Blooming, brilliant, shining, beaming, resplendent, dazzling, gorgeous, superb, mag- nificent, sublime. Picturesque, artistical. Passable, not amiss, undeformed, undefaced, spotless, unspotted. Of these words " elegant" is so much nearer my meaning than the others that I look for it in the index. I find that besides the list just quoted, it is found under " tasteful, 850 ; style, 578." Turning first to the latter, I have : Elegance, grace, ease, nature, concinnity, readiness, dliphony. A(tjectives. — Elegant, polished, classical, Attic, Ciceronian, graceful, easy, natural, unlabored, chaste, pure, flowing, mellifluous, euphonious, rhythmical. These do not help me, so I turn to 850. The adjectives here are : In good taste, tasty (tasteful), unaffected, pure, chaste, classical, refined, elegant, sesthetic. Chap. XXi] SYNdNtM^. 403 I am beginning to think I shall be obliged to use " elegant," but first I look up the words allied to two or three others of the adjectives already found that seem nearest to what I want. Under " superb " I find in the index only 845, the list already quoted. Under "well-bred" I find a reference to "courteous, 804;" under "fashionable," to "customary, 613;" and I look up half a dozen others, only to find that all hopeful lists have been already quoted. Had the adjective been wanted to express a judgment less positive, I might have been helped by the fact that besides each of the lists of words quoted was found on each page a list of the words of contrary meaning. Thus, adjoining the last list, 850, we have these adjectives : In bad taste, vulgar, coarse, unrefined, gross, heavy, rude, unpolished, homespun, homebred, uncouth, awkward, ungraceful, slovenly, slatternly, impolite, ill-mannered, uncivil, ungentlfimanly, unladylike, unfeminine, imseemly, unpresentable, unkempt, un- combed. , Rustic, boorish, clownish, barbarous, barbaric, Gothic, unclassical, heathenish, out- landish, untamed, 876. Obsolete, out of fashion, unfashionable, antiquated, old-fashioned, gone by. New-fangled, odd, fantastic, grotesque, see ridiculous, 85.3, serio-comic, tragi-comic, affected, meretricious, extravagant, monstrous, shocking, horrid, revolting. Gaudy, tawdi7, bedizened, tricked out. But in this case a negative form like " not ungraceful " will not express my thought, so I am forced to choose among the words before me. On the whole, if I must employ a single word, I de- cide that " elegant " will most nearly express my meaning ; so I write, " Miss Abbott's dress looks elegant." It is not quite what i want to say, but it is as near to my thought as the English lan- guage permits me to get. (See page 347.) So important is practice in finding and considering syn- onyms, that we give a number of exercises in which the pupil is to replace the words in italics by others that ex- press the meaning as well or better. Example. — The two armies stood in order of battle. The two armies stood in array of battle. Courage is an admir- able quality. The demand is steadily increasing. Plants need food as well as animals. Some years since I formed the project of writ- ing a history. The flies that I had observed were all distinguished 404 PRECISION. [Pabt ly. from each other in shape and color. Plants are the habitaticms of insects. The victory was announced by a peal of cannon. The re- flection of the moon is seen in the placid lake. They traversed the lofty mountains that surround like a rampart the beautiful region of Cashmere. The majority of mankind earn their livelihood by hard work. The soldier obeyed the command of his officer with alacrity. When the evening mist enveloped the plain, a troop of wild ducks suddenly settled on the surface of the water. The con- fusion was at length succeeded by profound silence. Birds predict the changes of weather. Sea birds have places of rendezvous, where they seem to deliberate on the affairs of the republic. How is this city, once so full of people, now so solitary ? He attained a high po- sition by industry and perseverance. Books afford many resources in solitude. It can be demonstrated that the earth is round. The action became general soon after it began. Manual labor was de- signed a,s a blessing. The sea- coast displays a magnificent ^ospeci. The army was animated by the spirit of its commander. Man is the slave -of habit. The sailor encounters many perils. The citi- zens, under their gallant governor, made an admirable defence. The king peremptorily refused the request. The water belonging to our globe exists in various states. History is a record of public events. Charlemagne founded various seminaries of public instruc- tion. Some ingenious experiments were made. Mungo Park. — While Mr. Park was waiting on the banks of the Niger for a passage, the king of the country was informed that a white man intended to visit him. On this intelligence, a messenger was instantly despatched to tell the stranger that his majesty could not possibly admit him to his presence till he understood the cause of his arrival ; and also to loarn him not to cross the river without the royal permission. The message was accordingly delivered by one of the chief natives, w'ho advised Mr. Park to seek a lodging in an adjacent village, and promised to give him some requisite in- structions in the morning. Mr. Park immediately complied with this counsel ; but on entering the village, he had the mortification to find every door closed against him. He was, therefore, obliged to remain all the day without /ooei beneath the shade of a tree. About sunset, as he was turning his horse loose to graze, and expected to pass the night in this lonely situation, a woman returning from her Chap. XXI.] SYNONYMS. • 405 employment in the fields stopped to gaze at him ; and observing his dejected looks, inquired from what cause they proceeded. Mr. Park endeavored, as well as he could, to make known his destitute situation. The woman immediately took up his saddle and bridle, and desired him to follow her to her residence, where, after light- ing a lamp, she presented him with some boiled fish, spread a mat for him to lie upon, and gave him permission to continue under her roof till morning. Having performed this beneficent action, she summoned her female companions to their spinning, which occupied the chief part of the night, while their labor was beguiled by a variety of songs. Oustavus Vasa. — This hero, who rescued his country from a foreign yoke, was allied to the royal family of Sweden. On the invasion of that country by Christiern II. in 1518, Gustavus Vasa was one of the six hostages whom he took to Denmark, and failing in detaching him from his allegiance to his country, he gave an - order for his death ; but afterward changed it to imprisonment in the castle of Copenhagen. Eric Banner, a Danish nobleman, feel- ing compassion for the sufferings of the young Swede, obtained leave to take him to a fortress in Jutland, of which he was the governor. Here Gustavus passed his time in comparative satis- f action, until he heard of the accession of Christiern II. to the Swedish crown, when his heart burned within him, and he was resolved to use every effort to recover the lost liberties of his country. He escaped to Lubec, but soon found that the Danes were in quest of him, which obliged him to assume the habit and manners of a peasant. In this disguise he passed through all quarters of their army, in a wagon loaded with hay, until he reached an old family castle at Sudermania. He despatched letters hence to his friends, hoping to rou^e them to an attempt for the recovery of their libei-ty ; but meeting with little success among the great, he next tried the peasantry. He visited their villages by night, harangued them at their festive assemblies, but without effect, as they uniformly told him it was in vain for them to attempt to better their condition, for " peasants they were, and peasants they must remain." Gustavus next determined to try the miners of Daleearlia. He penetrated the mountains of that remote province, and was obliged for a scanty subsistence to enter himself a,s a, com- 4:06 PRECISION. [Pakt IV. mon laborer at a mine. Here he worked within the dxxrh caverns ■of the earth ; but the fineness of his linen soon led some of his fellow-laborers to suspect that he was more than what he seemed. By the advice of a friend, at whose house he concealed himself, Gustavus repaired to Mora, where an annual feast of the peasantry was held. There, as his last resource, he displayed with so much nature, eloquence, and energy the miseries of his country and the tyranny of Ohristiern, that the assembly instantly determined to take up arms, and adqptedhim as their leader. While their hearts were glowing with an aident pdtriotism, Gustavus led them against the governor's castle, which they stormed, and took or destroyed the whole garrison. Success increased his forces.; multitudes were eager to enlist under the banner of the conquering hero, Gustavus. At the head of his little army he overran the neighboring prov- inces, defeated the Archbishop of Upsal, and advanced to Stock- holm. Ohristiern, who had in vain attempted to stop the progress of Gustavus by the threat of massacring his mother and sisters, at length put the; dreadful menace into execution. The cruel deed animated Gustavus to a severer revenge. He assembled the states of Sweden at Wadstena, where he was unanimously chosen adminis- trator ; and after a variety of military transactions, he laid siege to Siockholm. Stockholm surrendered, aud the Danes were com- pletely expelled from Sweden. Columbtis on tlie New World. — After a brief interval, the sovereigns requested of Columbus a recital of his adventures. His manner was sedate and dignified, but warmed by the glow of natural enthusiasm. He enum,erated the several islands he had visited, expatiated on the temperate character of the oUmate, and the capacity of the soil for ■every variety of production, appealing to the samples imported by him as evidence of their natural productiveness. He dwelt more at large on the precious metals to be found in these islands, which he inferred less from the specimens actually obtained than from the uniform testimony of the natives to their abundance in the unexplored regions of the interior. Lastly, he pointed out the wide scope af- forded to Christian zeal in the illumination of a race of men whose minds, far from being wedded to any system of idolatry, were pre- pared by their extreme simplicity for the reception of pure and un- fiorrupted doctripe. The last consideration touched Isabella's heart Chap. XXI.] SYNONYMS. 407 most sensibly ; and the whole audience, kindled with various emo- tions by the speaker's eloquence, filled up the perspective with the gorgeous coloring of their own fancies, as ambition, or avarice, or d£votionaliee^n§ predominated in iloBii bosoms. When Columbus ceased, the king and queen, together with all present, prostrated themselves on their knees in grateful thanksgivings, while the sol- emn strains of the Te Deum were poured forth by the choir of the royal chapel, as in commemoration of some glorious victory. Alfred and the Danes. — At the conjiiience of the rivers Paret and Tone there were about two acres of dry land, surroundedby swamps, which afterward became celebrated under the name of the Prince's Island. Here, aloyie and in disguise, he was sheltered in the cottage of a poor cowherd, who, in ignorance of his real dignity, was taught to believe him some fugitive chief whose circumstances required a temporary seclusion. A lively picture of the condition to which he was reduced is preserved in the well-known anecdote, which he himself was accustomed to recite in his happier hours, of the chiding he pa- tiently endured from the shrewish wife of his host for allowing her cakes to be burned. To this retreat he gradually summoned a few oihis Tciosi faithful retainers, fortified its only accessible approach, and began to make successfiil excursions upon straggling parties of the enemy. But the first ray of hope broke from another quarter. About four months after the invasion by Guthrum, another division of his countrymen, landing in Devonshire under the ferocious Ubba, laid siege to the castle of Kenwyth, into which the brave Ealdorman Odun and a few subordinate chiefs had hastily thrown themselves. In a desperate sally the garrison succeeded in surpris- ing thn camp of the invaders, and slaying Ubba himself ; an event which struck such terror into his followers that they left their enchanted standard, the Raven of Woden, in the hands of the victors. Retreat of Sir John Moore. — The British troops, under Sir John Moore, were now advancing from Portugal into Spain to co-operate iBi(/}.th.e patriots. In the course of his march, the British general soon discovered how fallacious and exaggerated were the impressions entertained in England respecting the condition of the Spaniards, and their ability or inclination to offer an eff'ective resistance to the enemy. He continued his march, however, in order to comply, as far as pos- sible, with the expectations of the ministry, and the urgent representa- 408 PRECISION. [Part IY. lions made to him ; till at length, having learned that Madrid had fallen, and that Bonaparte had quitted that city at the head of a su- perior force, with the view of taking up a position in the rear of the British, while another army under Soult lay in front, he found it indispensable to make a, prompt retreat. This he accomplished in the most masterly manner, though the weather was severe, provisions scanty, the inhabitants of the country cold and unfriendly, and a vet- eran army, greatly superior in numbers, pressing on his rear. This famous retreat closed at Oorunna on the 11th of January, 1809, havr ing been attended with the loss of many men from disorder, and the sacrifice of many horses from want of forage ; but without a stand- ard being taken, or a single check sustained in action. The trans- ports, on board of which the troops were to embark, unfortunately did not reach Oorunna till two days after the arrival of the army. In consequence of this delay it became necessary to risk an engage- ment on the 6th, in very disadvantageous circumstances, and against an enemy greatly superior in numbers. In spite of this disparity, however, the French wei'e everywhere repulsed, and compelled to re- treat with the loss of two thoui=and men. But the gallant Sir John Moore was mortally wounded in the action by a cannon-ball. Gen- eral Baird being also disabled. Sir John Hope took the command, and succeeded in embarking the troops, and bringing them off safely without further molestation. How much depends upon tlie choice of words is shown in the following poem of Coleridge's, printed as it appears in his collected works, with interlineations in small type showing the changes of expression made in quoting it for " Dana's Household Book of Poetry." COMPLAINT. [The Good, Great Man.] How seldom, friend, a good great man inherits Honor or wealth, with all his worth and pains ! [and] It sounds like story from the land of spirits [seems a] [world] If any man obtain that which he merits. [When] [obtains] Or any merits that which he obtains. Chap. XXI.] EQUIVOCAL WORDS. 409 Eepeoof. [Omitted,] For shame, my friend ! renounce this canting strain ! [idle] What wouldst thou have a good great man obtain ? Place, titles, salary, a gilded chain, [Wealth] [title] [dignity] [golden] Or throne of corses which his sword hath slain ? [heap] Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends, [Goodness and greatness] Hath he not always treasures, always friends. The good great man ? these treasures, love and light, [great good] [three] And calm thoughts, equable as infant's breath ; And three firm friends, more sure than day and night — [fast] [or] Himself, his maker, and the angel death. [Maker] [Death] In the third line of the " Reproof," for instance, all of Coleridge's words are more powei-fiil than Dana's, because by expressing less intrinsic value they show more strongly the worthlessness of the objects referred to ; and in the ' next line, the substitution of heap for throne eliminates the implied idea that the great man's elevation is not only accompanied by but based on the woes of others. For the uses of or and and, see pages cxxi, cxxii, where it will appear that both the substitutions made are erroneous. (b) Equivocal Words are those that may be taken in more senses than one. " He overlooked the transac- tion," may mean either that he supervised it, or that he forgave it. " What I want," shouted a stump-speaker, " is common sense." -i' Exactly so,'" replied his opponent. (See a similar example on page 266.) 410 PKECISION. [Past rV. " The Queen did not want solicitation to consent to tlie meas- ure." The word "want " may imply either that she did not desire soli- citation, or that she was not without it. "Henry had been from his youth attached to the Church of Eome." This may mean either that he had been fond of the church, or that he had been a member of it. "Exactly at eight the mother came up, and discovered that sup- per was not far off." " Discovered " may be taken in either of two senses. It may imi>lj found out, or it may imply made knoum, revealed. " The minister's resignation, in these circumstances, cannot be too highly praised." Does this mean his having resigned his office, or his being re- signed to his fate ? " Betirement " would imply the one meaning, "submission" the. other. If the former is intended, say "the minister's resignation of his oiHce;" if the latter, say "the resig- nation exhibited by the minister." (c) General Words instead of individual words are often affected by young writers. Tiiey are as fatal to precision as to every other quality of good style. (See pages 225, 240, 420.) Those beautiful English words, 6oys and girls, are almost ban- ished from our modern vocabulary. Boys and girls are transformed into juveniles ; workmen have become operatives ; and people in general are now individuals. These individuals, be it observed, are never dressed, but always attired or arrayed; they are never angry, but often irate; they never go into a shop, though they sometimes condescend to enter an emporium, or perhaps a depot ; and when they return home they never take off their things, but divest themselves of their habiliments. " ' Another practice with these vpriters is to substitute for single terms milk-and-water definitions of them. With them a fire is always the devouring element ; a man is an individual of the mascu- line gender ; a. footman is a superb menial ; and a school-master is the principal of a collegiate iTtstitution. — Gbaham, Chap. XXI.] EXCESSIVE BREVITY. 411 The pet phrases [a "pet phrase" of Mr. Marsh himself] of hack journalists, the euphemism that but lately characterized the American newspapers, are fast giving place to less affected and more appropriate fonns of expression. It is only the lowest class of dailies that still regard "woman'' as not an honorable or re- spectful designation of the sex, and it is in their columns alone that, in place of " well-dressed or handsome women," we read of " elegantly attired females " and of " beautiful ladies."— Maesh. Coleridge says of one of his old school- masters : In our own English compositions (at least for the last three years of our English edu- cation), he showed no mercy to phrase, metaphor, or image, unsupported by a sound sense, or where the same sense might have been conveyed with equal force and dignity in plainer words. Lute, harp, and li/re. Muse, Muses, and inspirations, Pegasus, Parnassus, and Hippocrene, were all an abomination to him. In fancy I can almost hear him now, exclaiming, "Harp? Harp? Lyre? Pen and ink, boy, you mean 1 Muse, boy. Muse ? Your nurse's daughter, you mean ! Pierian spring ? Oh aye ! the cloister pump, I suppoBe." Coleiidge adds that it is worthy of ranking as a maxim in criti- cism, that whatever is translatable in other and simpler words of the same language, without loss of sense or dignity, is bad. By dignity, he means the absence of ludicrous or debasing associa- tions. — iii. 147. (2) Construction may lack precision tlirough (a) Excessive Brevity, (b) Redundance, (c) Affectation, (d) Looseness of Thought. (a) Brevity is the soul of wit ; but it niust consist in the compactness and exactness of the thought, not in a curtailed expression of it. It is excessive whenever it leads to lack of precision, by (i) the Omission of Necessary Words ; oi' by (ii) the use of Ambiguous Pronouns. Bad judges (and how few are not so !) desire in composition the concise and obscure ; not knowing that the one most frequently arises from paucity of materials, and the other from inability to manage and dispose them. — Lanixde. (i) The Omission of Necessary Words is illus- trated in the following examples : I must now make to you a general assertion, which, if you will 412 PRECISION. [Part IV. note [it] down and examine [it] at your leisure, you will find both true and useful. — Buskin. Harry eyed her with such a rapture as the first lover is described as having by Milton. — Thackebat. [The meaning probably is, ' ' as the first lover is described by Milton as having eyed his mistress with."] How to nurse and take care of their children long before she had one [child] herself. — Id. There is never wanting a set of evil instmments who either out of mad zeal, private hatred, or [greed for] filthy lucre, are always ready. — Swift. He lamented the fatal mistake the world had been [making] so long in using silk-worms. — Swift. That the discoursing on politics shall be looked upon as dull as talking on the weather. — Freeholder. [Campbell suggests another as before the first as ; perhaps to be would be better.] v I do not reckon we want a genius more than the rest of our neighbors [do]. — Swift. His diet was abstemious, his prayers [were] long and fervent. — Gibbon. I am anxious for the time when he will talk as much nonsense to me as I have [talked] to him. — Landob. He says, inter alia : The correspondence alone which I have to conduct is at once extensive and demand- ing thoughtful attention, but I never have^ nor ever will, allow literary work to inter- fere with the performance of pastoral. You never have allow that, doctor, the magistrate means, Mr, Editor, and he hopes, too, that you never will allowed it, never no more. " Literary work," indeed. — Moon. Friends and children who come after me, in which way will you bear your trials ? I know one that prays God will give you love rather than pride, and that tjie Eye all-seeing shall find you in the humble place. Not that we should judge proud spirits other- wise than charitably. 'Tis nature hath fashioned some for ambi- tion and dominion, as it hath formed others for obedience and gentle submission. The leopard follows his nature as the lamb does [?]. She can neither help her beauty, nor her courage, nor Chap. XXl] AMBlGUOtTS PUOWOtrNS. 413 her cruelty, not a single spot on her shining coS,t ; nor the con- quering spirit which impels her ; nor the shot which brings her down. — Thackeray, Esmond. DETERMiNATrvBS. — In Spite of the necessity of frequently intro- ducing determinatives in languages with few inflections, it will in general be found that a given period framed Wholly in Anglo- Saxon will contain as few words, perhaps even fewer, than the same thought expressed in the Eomance dialect of English. The reason of this is that the unpleasant effect of the frequent recur- rence of particles has obliged us to invent forms of expression in which such members, though grammatically required to complete the period, are dispensed with, and we use these forms with less repugnance in Saxon combinations, where they were first employed, than in Latin ones, which are of later introduction and less famil- iar structure. Thus we say, ' ' The man I bought the house of," ' ' The man we were talking of ; " and we may with equal gram- matical propriety say, " The gentleman I purchased the house of," " The person we were conversing of ; " but we should be much more likely to employ a more formal syntax, "The gentleman of whom I purchased the house,'' " The person of whom we were conversing.'' Again, one would say, " I told him I had called on General Taylor," omitting the conjunction that before the second member of the period ; but if we employed Eomance words, we should more probably retain the conjunction, as, "I informed him that I had paid my respects to the President." Although, then, the Anglo-Saxon so far controls all other elements that we may grammatically employ foreign words in the same way as native ones, yet a half-conscioiis sense of linguistic congruity usually suggests a more formal structure of the period, when it is composed chiefly of Romance radicals. — Marsh. (ii) Ambiguous Pronouns are so great an evil in composition that Bain says the clearness of composition de- pends inore upon the use of he, she, it, they, than upon any other single matter coming within the scope of grammar. The word it is the greatest trottbler that I know of in the lan- guage. It is so small, and so convenient, that few are careful enough in using it. Writers seldom spare this word. Whenever 414 PRECISION. [Paet IV. they are at a loss for either a nominative or an adjective to their sentence, they, without any kind of ceremony, clap in an it. — OOBBETT. Rewrite the following sentence so as to avoi^ the con- fusion of its. It is many times as troublesome to make good the pretence of a good quality as to have it ; and if a man have it not, it is ten to one but he is discovered to want it, and then all his pains and labors to seem to have it are lost. On the other hand, it is sometimes needlessly avoided. Thus: During our stay in town one young man had his cheek out open; another his under-lip nearly taken off; a third his scalp cut in two ; and a fourth the tip of his nose so thoroughly excised that the end of his nasal organ [it] lay upon the ground. — Henet Maxhew, German Life, ii., 67. A Striking IiiiitrsTBAHON. — ^You say, " While treating of the pronunciation of those who minister in public, two other words occur to me which are very commonly mangled by our clergy. A One of these is 'covetous,' and its substantive ' covetousness.' I hope some who read these lines will be induced to leave off pro- B c nouncing them 'covetious' and 'covetiousness.' I can assure them D E F that when they do thus call them, one at least of their hearers has G his appreciation of their teaching disturbed." I fancy that many a one who reads these lines will have Ms ap- preciation of your teaching disturbed, as far as it relates to the Queen's English. But now for the changes which may be rung on these bells, as I have called them. The first of them. A, may apply either to words or to our clergy. One of these is " cov- etous." I am sorry to say that the general belief is that there are more than one ; but perhaps you know one in particular. How- ever, my remarks interrupt the bell-ringing, and we want to count the changes, so I will say no more, but will at once demonstrate Chap. XXI.] AMBIGUOUS PRONOUNS. 415 that we can ring 10,240 changes on your peal of bells ! In other words, that your paragraph, of less than ten lines, is so ambiguously worded that, without any alteration of its grammar or syntax, it may be read in 10,240 different ways ! and only one of all that number shall be the right way to express your meaning. - The Pronouns. Nouns to which they may apply. No. of Different Readings. A, tlieae words, or clergy words, clergy, readers, or lines. words, clergy, readers, lines, or 2 a B, them.. C, tfiem . . D, they . . E, them.. F, their.. G, their.. 4 4.... 4... 4,... 4.. . 5..,. these 4 X by the above 2 = 8 these 4 X " " 8 = 32 the=e4 x " •' 32= 128 these 4 X " " 128= 612 these 4 X '■ " 512 = 2,048 these 5 X " '■ 2,048=10,240 -Moon. He [Macaulay] has a perfect hatred of pronouns, and for fear of a possible entanglement between " him's " and " her's " and " it's," he will repeat not merely a substantive but a whole group of sub- stantives. Sometimes, to make his sense unmistakable, he will repeat a whole formula with only a change in the copula. — Leslie Stephen. Othee Instances op Ambiguous Pronouns. — They [those' histo- rians] who have talents want industry or virtue ; they [those] who have industry want talents. — Southey. His servant being ill, he had consented to allow his brother, a timid youth from the country, to take his place for a short time, and for that short time he was a constant source of annoyance. — Life of 0. J. Mathews. Lisias promised to his father never to abandon his friends. — Quoted by Campbell. My good lord often talked of visiting that land in Virginia which King Charles gave us—gave his ancestor. — Thackeray. The war then exciting attention to the American Colonies as one of the chief points in dispute, they came out in two volumes octavo. — Prior, Life of Burke. Men look with an evil eye upon the good that is in others, and think that their reputation obscures them, and that their commend- 416 PRECISION. [Part IV. t able qualities stand in their light ; and therefore ih^ do what they can to oast a cloud over them, tha-t the shining of their virtues may not obscure them. — Tillotson. There are some men who allow the sex no virtues because they allow them no favors. — Fielding. The exercise of reason appears as little in them as in the beasts they sometimes hunt, and by whom they are sometimes hunted. — BOLIKGBKOKE. There is no popular Life of Bpssuet to be found in France — Cardinal de Bausset's is the only one [life], and that is bulky and dry. — Bossuei and his Contempwaries. In any testimony (whether oral or written) that is unwillingly borne, it will more frequently consist in something incidentally implied than in a distinct statement. — Whately. Mr. A. presents his compliments to Mrs. B. / have got a hat which is not his ; if he have got a hat which is not yours, no rfoubt they are the missing one. — Hodgson. Even in this short sentence we may discern an inaccuracy — why our language is less refined than those of Italy, Prance, and Spain ; putting the pronoun those in the plural, when the antecedent sub- stantive to which it refers is in the singular, our Language. — Blair. [Here Blair is manifestly in error. The sentence should read, why our language is less refined than are tlte lan- guages of Italy, Framee, and Spain. (See page cxxv.) ] Find other instances of ambiguous pronouns on pages 45, 70, 240. A genderless personal noun is a marked want of the English language, as witness the following : When everybody [allj can ride as soon as they are born. — Sydney Smith. It is true that when perspective was first discovered, everybody [all] amused themselves with it.— Euskin. Each of the sexes should keep within its proper bounds, and con- tent themselves to exult within their respective districts. — Addison. Each prayed for the other rather than for themselves. — Mes. Gaskell. Chap. XXI.J A GENDERLESS PRONOUN. 417 When it took a twelvemonth's hard wijrk to make a single vol- ume legible, men considered a little the difference between one book and another ; but now, when not only anybody can get th&m- selves made legible, through any quantity of volumes, in a week, but the doing so becomes a living to them, and they can fill their stomach with the foolish foam of their lips, the universal pesti- lence of falsehood fills the mind of the world as cicadas do olive- leaves, and the fu-st necessity of our mental government is to ex- tricate from among the insectal noise the few notes and words that are divine. — Euskin. It is probably through the habit of using a plural pro- noun when the antecedent is of both' sexes that the plural is sometimes used for the singular when the antecedent in- cludes only one sex. Thus : Each of the girls went up into their [her] separate rooms [room] to rest and calm themselves [herself]. — Mas. Gaskbll. [Hodgson corrects the sentence as above, but the meaning is better preserved by substituting all for each o/.] The use of "one" as a personal pronoun, cor- responding with the French On dit and the German Man sagt, is growing in favor, and is beginning to be character- istic of the best-bred speech. One doth not know How much an ill word may empoison liking. — Much Ado about Nothing. See examples on pages 4, 5, 9, IS, etc. Avoid awk- wardness by substituting mie for he or she on page 47. Reflexive Pronouns require care, as witness the following : If this trade be fostered, we shall gain from one nation ; and if another, from another. Which might help us to discover the conformity or disagreeable- ness of the one to the other. — Addison. The greatest masters of critical learning differ among one an- other. — Spectator. 418 PRECISION. [Part IV. Hereafter, when trains moving in an opposite direction are ap- proaching each other on separate lines, conductors and engineers will be required to bring their respective trains to a dead halt be- fore the point of meeting, and be very careful not to proceed until each train has passed the other. A writer in the Atlantic of the death of Dabney Carr, the brother- in-law of Thomas Jefferson, says : Mindful of the romantic agreement of their youth that whichever died first, should bnry.the other under the giant oak on Monticello, etc., etc. This is rather hard on " the other " — and on Mr. Jefferson — and on the corpse. — Danbury News. (b) Redundance is fatal to precision. Looseness from redundance is specially apt to occur in speaking on difficult themes to the popular mind. Under such conditions, one is apt to explain, to qualify, to repeat, to speak in circum- locutory phrase, to experiment with variation. These easily over- whelm the thought with words. One then loses precision in the effort to be perspicuous. Style moves askant and askew in the effort to move at all. Sometimes the very struggle to be precise — the mind, in the very act of composing, being intent on preci- sion — may defeat itself. Here, again, thought is overborne by the machinery -employed to give it utterance. Writers who pride themselves on philosophical accuracy are apt to multiply qual- ifications, and circumstantial incidents, and secondary clauses, and parenthetical disclosures, so that no possible error shall be affirmed ; but that very strain after accuracy defeats its aim through the mere expansion of bulk and involution of connections. When a dozen words might have been understood, a dozen dozen may fall dead on the ear. Edmund Burke sometimes illustrates this. In one of his elabo- rate sentences you will sometimes find words and clauses selected and multiplied and arranged and compacted and qualifi^(J and defined and repeated, for the very purpose of extending and limit- ing the truth to its exact and undoubted measure. He obviously labors to say just what he means — no more, no less, no other. Still, on the whole, he fails, because he is so elaborately precise in details. The thought is suffocated by the multitude of words Chap. XXI.] REDUNDANCE.— AFFECTATION. 419 employed to give it life. It is buried aUve. To ebange the figure, you can divide and subdivide a field into so many, so smaU, so regular, and so exact patches, that the chief impression it shall leave on your eye is that of the fences. Similar is the impression of an excessively precise style. — Phelps. It is needful to insist the more on the energetic effect of con- ciseness, because so many, especially young writers and speakers, are apt to fall into a style of pompous verbosity, not from negli- gence, but from an idea that they are adding to the perspicuity and force of what is said, when they are only incumbering the sense with a needless load of words. And they are the more likely to commit this mistake because such a style will often appear not only to the author but to the vulgar {i.e., vulgar in intellect) among iis hearers to be very majestic and impressive. It is not uncommon to hear a speaker or writer of this class mentioned as having a very fine command of language, when perhaps it might be said with more correctness that his language had a command of him ; i. e., that he follows a train of words rather than of thought, and strings together all the more striking expressions that occur to him on the subject, instead of first forming a clear notion of the sense he wishes to convey, and then Seeking the most appropriate vehicle in which to convey it. He has but the same command of language that the rider has of a horse that runs away with him. — Whatblt. For illustration, on page 222 it is said that the printer's place will not be easily filled by his equal. It would be precise to say that his place would not be easily tilled, or that it would not be easy to find his equal. But there is no reason why his equal should not fill his place easily enough. (c) Affectation is a prevailitig enemy to precision. Young writers are slow to learn that the simplest, most direct statement of a thought is the best ; and they strive to array ideas that they recognize as commonplace in dis- tinguished language. (See pages 193, 197, 349.) A two-foot rule was given to a laborer in a Clyde boat-yard to 420 PRECISION. [Part IV. measm-e an iron plate. The laborer, not being well up in the use of the rule, after spending a considerable time, returned. " Noo, Mick," asked the plater, " what size is the plate ? " " Well," re- plied Mick, with a grin of satisfaction, " it's the length of your rule and two thumbs over, with this piece of brick, and the breadth of my hand and my arm from here to there, bar a finger." — Punch. We laugli at the workman for employing thirty-two words and six kinds of measurement to express wliat would have been more exactly understood if he had said " thirty-three inches." But his blunder was due to igno- rance of the use of the rule. Had he been accustomed to the rule, and had the circumlocution been an affectation of elegance, or an attempt to make the measurement seem more important, he would have been discharged for idiocy. Yet his fault would have been no greater than that of the reporter who writes that " the devouring ele- ment is devastating the capacious granary of one of our most influential citizens," when he means that a fire has broken out in John Smith's barn. A writer in the Westminster Review discourses after this fashion : Another curioUB observation upon philosophic activity is, that the co-ordination of all the functions which constitute the whole intellectual energy of philosophic minds is pre- served in its plenitude for only a short period of their whole duration of life. There oc- curs, and generally at a period of middle life, an epoch when the assimilation of scientific material and its ulterior elaboration proceed with an energy more vigorous axiA more con- tinuous than is ever afterward attained by the same mind. This phase of philosophical superactivity is always succeeded by an intellectual phase characterized by less expendi- ture of simultaneous powers. I do not say that this has no meaning. But what is its jmean- ing ? If I do not miss it in the volume of its long-tailed vocabu- lary, it is this, and this is the whole of it — that the mind of a met- aphysician is more vigorous for a time near middle life than it ever is afterward. Why could not the reviewer say that, if he must say a thing so obvious, and be content ? . . . Chap. XXl^.] BOMBAST. 421 That a profound mind doing honest work cannot make profound thought clear, implies intellectual disease or imbecility in the rest of mankind to an extent which is never true, except in effete or decadent races. It is more probable that some of our philosophi- cal writers strain after the look of profoundness when the reality is not in them. That was a perilous princijole which Coleridge advanced respecting the capacity of human language, that it can- not express certain metaphysical ideas, and therefore that clear- ness of style in a metaphysical treatise is prima fade evidence of superflcialness. As Coleridge was accustomed to illustrate it, the pool in which you can count the pebbles at the bottom is shallow water ; the fathomless depth is that in which you can only see the reilection of your own face. This would be true if thinking were water. But the principle opens the way to the most stupendous impositions upon speculative science. It tempts authors to the grossest affectations in style. In the study of modern psychology, therefore, a preacher needs to be on his guard. We may safely treat as a fiction in philosophy anything which claims to be a dis- covery, yet cannot make itself understood without huge and un- manageable contortions of the English tongue. — Phelps. Bombast, which originally meant the cotton wadding with which garments are stuffed and lined, is now appro- priately applied to inflated diction, words that are big but empty. (See page 223.) As one of the faults of over-civilization, an intellectual as well as a personal ooxcombiy is apt to prevail, which leads people to expect from each other a certain dashing turn of mind, and an ap- pearance at least of having ideas, whether they can afford them or not. —Leigh Hunt. Ignorant and unreflecting persons, though they cannot be, strictly speaking, convinced by what they do not understand, yet will Very often suppose each that the rest understand it ; and each is ashamed to acknowledge even to himself his own darkness and perplexity : so that if the speaker with a confident air announces his conclusion as established, they will often, according to the maxim omne ignntum pro maqnijico, take for granted he has ad- vanced valid arguments, and will be loath to seem behindhand in 422 PRECISION. [Pakt IV. comprehending them. It lasually requires that a man should have some confidence in his own understanding toventui'e to say, " What has been spoken is unintelligible to me." — Whately. I have heard of a preacher who, desirous to appear very pro- found, and to make observations on the commonest subjects, which had never occurred to anybody before, remarked as an instance of the goodness of Providence that the moments of time come suc- cessively and not simultaneously or together, which last method of coming would, he said, occasion infinite confusion in the world. — Campbell. See similar illustration at foot of page 85. Examples of Bombast are unhappily frequent ; the newspapers are full of them. Here are a few. (See also pages 306, 307.) " Mr. and Mrs. D , Boston, ^U. S. A. Best and most pros- perous country under the sun. Thank God ! Just arrived from Chamouny on mules ; pleased with the mountains." This is an inscription on a Swiss hotel register. The mules could not write. — Golden Age. A young man at Elkhart, Ind., has started a six-column weekly paper with the avowed object of " restoring to the Republic its wonted grandeur and prosperity." You can't do it, young fellow. We tried for six years to restore the Eepublio to its wonted gran- deiu- and prosperity by publishing the ablest paper in this country and taking turnips and slab wood on subscription, and never had money enough to buy a dog ; but of laite years we have let the wonted grandeur of the Eepublio shirk for itself, and on the first of January we had over six dollars. — Peck's Sun. , "Young Subscriber" wants to know " what is an organ?" It is the opposition paper, my son; the vile and truckling sheet through whose venomous maw, fetid with vice and festering with the loathsome corruption in which it daily wallows, the other party, blistered with the plague spot of political leprosy, sewers the noisome filth of its pestilential ideas. Gur-r-r ! ! That's what an organ is, my boy. Our own paper is a Fearless and Out- spoken Champion for the Truth- You may have noticed that,— Burlington Hawkeye, Chap. XXI.] BOMBAST. 423 Congress has been under bad influences, according to the Hon. Eollin M. Daggett, of Nevada, who, in a late speech to the House, remarked : " Many-tongaed rumor, the unblest evangel of calumny, has more than hinted that to the glitter of gold have been added the enchantments of beauty to warp the judg- ments of men, and that the corporate Aladdins of the land, whoBe influence it is impos- sible not to feel, even in the inner chambers of this temple, have called to their councils both the BightlesB son of Ceres and the star-eyed cyprian whose home is on the heights." Mr. Daggett himself is inclined to charitably disbelieve these reports ; but even his alleged disbelief is not reassuring, because this is its basis : *' Even were it possible for me to believe them, over my shoulders I would hang the mantle of doubt, and, like the blessed of Noah''s sons, walk backward with it to cover the infamy before the world beheld it or our own eyes were blasted by the unwelcome vision.'' The matter would seem to be one for inquiry, even if the sight- less son of Ceres and the star-eyed cyprian had to be summoned to testify. — N'ew York Sun. A young lady, Misa Alice Ilgenfritz, delivered an address on journalism to the Fourth Iowa Bistrict Press Association the other day. We find her esaay in the Burlington Hawkeye, She thinks that there is still room at the top, and that a neglect of literary finish is one of the great faults of American newspapers. Instead of dwelling on and polishing up their ideas, men think more of making a speedy and advantageous sale of them. Miss Alice is a rather clever girl, but she must not dwell on her ideas too long, or polish them up too elaborately. The result of too much litorary finish is seen in such amazing passages as this in her address to the Iowa editors: "I am thankful for the iconoclastic spades which are rooting up old paws that have become stripped of all signifi- cance, like Cleopatra's Needle, by being removed from their natural surroundings." — New York Sun. A finicky, fussy, round little man stepped up to the first waiter in a new oyster saloon in Sixth Avenue, and said : " Have you got any really nice, fresh, good oysters ? " '' Tes, sir." " Not too fat, you know— but not thin, either. I want them just exactly right, and I want them perfectly fresh." " How will you have thert— half shell ? " " Stop a moment," said the little man ; " if you have got just the right kind in jnst the right condition, please take half a pint of small ones (not too small,. you know) and strain the juice oflE them carefully, leaving just a little juice on them ; put them in a pan which has been scoured and dried, and then add a little butter (good pure butter) and a little milk (not New York milk, but real country cow's milk), and then place the pan over a coal fire and be careful to keep the pan in motion so as not to let the oysters or the milk burn ; add a little juice if you choose, and then watch the pan closely so that the exact moment it comes to a boil you can whip it off. At the same time have a deep 424 PRECISION. [Pakt IV. dish warmir g near at hand, and when you see the first sign of boiling empty the pan into the dish. Do you think you can remember that ? " " One stew 1 " the waiter called oat.— Retailer. The mellow light that suffused this valley at the dawn of the anniversary of the birth of liberty on Tuesday morning was reflected upon a canvas that was pure and vir^^in ; the brush of circumstances had never visited it, and it was rung up by the Divine Creator amid the din and noise of the universe — yes, it revealed a day that was bright with the contributions of nature. Here below everybody was in an apparently happy mood, and the spirit of good-fellowship seemed to prevail. The air was aromatic with the smoke and fuuieji of hot salt-petre, and the resonant sound of cannon was mingled with the roar of human voices and the shrieks of steam whi^^tles. The streets were thronged with participants in Fourth of July festivities, and everybody abandoned themselves to a general good time. But there was a tragedy rapidly incubating, and it was to cast a gloom and terrible awe over the happy features of the natal day of freedom. The bullet was to play its part and stab hilarity to the heiirt. Between two and three o'clock, while peace supported the sceptre, commotion and strife suddenly seized it and tore along Har- rison Avenue. Guns were seen glittering m the sunlight, aud a man was seen tottering across the street. It was Tommy Bennett who had been Bhot.—Leadviile Herald. Let it be written on every leaf that trembles in the Canadian and American forests, every blade of grass that wuves in tlie morning breeze, every sail that whitens the sea of commerce ; let It blaze from the sun at noontide and be reflected in the milder radiance of every star that bedecks the firmament of G-od ; let it echo through the arches of heaven and reverberate through the corridors of our national temple, that the grand and sym pathetic words cf Queen Victoria which flashed on the wings of electricity over the At- lantic cable and hovered like a guardian angel over th^bed of the dying President Gar- field, were words of pearlB and diamonds set in the necklace of international unity and harmony, hung around the neck of the Goddess of Liberty. — OoNyuL A, B. Elliott. Now 1 haven't the slightest disposition tii become hyperboliciil, nor in any way to mis- represent or exaggerate the state of facts relative to the repeated annoyance to which 1 have been sutijected, both by envious, jealous, and half-educated renefeades and counter- feits, pretending to be of my own political faith and friendly to me, and the ridiculously insane and contemptible bowlings of a partisan press ; but I do wish to say, that if there be an adult of masculine persuasion on the face of this mnndane sphere, upon whom at- tempts at persecution are being daily and hourly enacted, and by a class of men, neither represented by the honest, fair-minded, and hard-workmg mechanics, nor by the purely high-toned, reliable, and justice-deahng business men of this community, that very un- favored individual is your most obedient and humble subscriber. Throwing aside every- thing in the shape of political sentiment, and giving heed to naught but the spirit of justice and fairness among men, as they live, move, and have their being in the world, I desire to say that I have, at all times, endeavored to comply strictly, and have complied strictly, I flatter myself, with all the requirements ot the law, in the discharge of my official duties, and that it is my solemn purpose to continue to do so during my occu- pancy of the public position with which fortune, fate, chance, or circumstances have found or burdened me,— Sheriff Crosby, in the Vicksburg JTeraia. The American people— and we are glad to call ourselves that— are rocked on the bosom of two mighty oceans, whose granite-bound shores are whitened by the floating canvas of the commercial world ; reaching from the ice-fettered lakes of the north to the febrile waves of Australian seas, comprising the vast interim of five billions of acres whose alluvial plains, romantic mountains, and mystic rivers rival the wildest Utopian Chap. XXI.] AFFECTED HUMOR. 425 dreams that ever gathered around the inspired bard, as he walked the amaranthine promenades of Hesperian garden^ is proud Columbia, the land of the free and the home of tho brave. — Legislator Hetwood on Qraval Roadu, January 21, 1871. Affected Humor is akin to bombast. The incon- venience of being a recognized wit has already been pointed out (see page 129). Even genuine humorists sometimes lap over the narrow boundary that separates the facetious from the imbecile. Bret Harte, invited to appear before the Phi Beta Kappa So- ciety of Harvard College, prepared and read a poem of which the plot was the inflation with hydrogen and the subsequent explosion of the skirts of a young woman who wanted ampler crinoline than her neighbors.' Mark Twain, responding to a toast at an Atlantic dinner, represented the adventures in a mining district of three gambling cut-throats, who called themselves Longfellow, Whittier, and Emerson. The newspapers had ah-eady begun to quote this speech as his latest and wittiest, when it came to light that the guests had listened first with amazement and then with ill-con- cealed disgust, and that Mr. Clemens had written a most abject letter of apology. Where men like these fail, it is not strange that dabblers are often misled. For instance : Hevenge was once man's highest duty ; revenge became his choicest pleasure. Now it has sunk in the scale of enjoyments to the rank of wife-beating and skittles. Take the case of Smiler, for instance. There is nota better nor a more equable crea- ture in existence. He can remain calm when bis cook sends him up an uneatable dinner. The appearance of an unexpected milliner's bill is not sufficient to throw him off his balance. He is able to witness his sons playing havoc -with his furniture without expe- riencing an inclination to commit nmrder.— Literal Review. (d) Looseness of Thought is, however, the commonest cause of looseness of language. Rhetorical principles can do little for minds that express themselves satisfactorily in sentences like the following. He knew an Irishman who, overcome by heat, lay six weeks speechless in the month of August, and all his cry was "water." — Quoted by Schble de Vebe. This extraordinary man left no children except his brother, who was killed at the same time. — Memoir of Robespierre. 426 PRECISION. [Part IV. A deaf man named Taff was run down by a passenger train and killed on Wednesday morning. He was injured in a similar way about a year ago. — New Jersey Journal. Monthly school reports must be handed in on Wednesday of each week to insure their publication. On a bridge at Athens, Ga., was the following: "Any person driving over this bridge in a faster pace than a walk shall, if a white person, be fined $5, and if a negro, receive twenty-five lashes, half the penalty to be bestowed on the informer.'' A Mr. Crispin of Oxford announced that he sold " boots and shoes made by celebrated Hoby, London." Mr. Hoby, irate, put into the Oxford paper, " The boots and shoes Mr. Crispin says he sells of my make is a lie." — Adfobd. Carelessness often leads jto expressions so exagger- ated as to be absurd, or so loosely constructed as to be ridiculous. A manufacturing wire-worker in an advertisement invites the public to come and see his invisible wire fences. Of course, every one will be there, and for the edification of those who are absent, a full report will be found in our next paper. The applause at the end of the scene was unanimous, having been heard in various parts of the house ; there were few hisses. I follow fate, which does too fast pursue — Dktden. Those who recommend the exclusive employment of either the simpler or the more complex words of our rich English, both err. — Popular Orammar. Such was the end of Murat at the premature age of forty-eight. — Amson. The command was reluctantly forced upon Prince Eugene. — Alison. The first project was to shorten discourse by cutting polysylla- bles into one. — Swift. To Millers. —To be let, a windmill, containing three pair of stones, a bakehouse, corn shop, and about five acres of land, dwelling-house, and garden. — Alpoed. I had like to have got one or two broken heads for my imperti- nence. — Swift. Chap. XXI. J COLLOCATION. 427 The editor of the New England Journal of Education saya we referred to that committee matter at the American Institute in a "half-serious, half -truthful way." That puzzles us. Is the half-truthful the same half as the half- serious, or is it the other half ? If it is the same half what is the other half, and how many halves are there to that ? — School Bulletin. Another small banner bore the device : " Journeymen Stonecutters^ Society ; " on the back, " Eight Hours for Work, Eight Hours for Sleep, Eight Hours for Recreation, and Eight Hours for Rest." Still another banner had a similar inscription in G-erman. Eight hours for work does not seem out of the way, neither does eight hours for sleep ; but to make a thirty-two-hour day might prove a diffloalt matter. Barnum's tattooed Greek sailor was on exhibition in Albany, and the advertisement said : He has upon his body 7,000,000 punctures, and it was all done by a female savage. The poor man lost a drop of blood and shed a tear for every puncture, and was the only one of twenty-four who survived the operation. The woman who did the tattooing worked six hours a day for ninety days before the task was completed. A mathematician of the Albany Express figured as follows : The woman must have given him 5}^ punctures a second. Then, if he lost one drop of blood with every puncture, he lost, estimating the usual number of drops to a pint, and taking a pint for a pound, 5,833 pounds. Or, to put it differently, just 889 gallons of blood, or a trifle over twenty baiTels during ninety days. Tears don't weigh as much as blood, so bunching the two together, the gentleman from Albania must have lost about 6X tons of those fluids within three months. Barnum's agent retorted that, if the Greek had not been a won- derful man, he would not have been exhibited. Collocation may produce ambiguity in sentences that express the writer's meaning, but that are susceptible of another interpretation. Thus, a drug-store advertises pills as follows : " Try one box, and you will never take any other medicine." Of most articles, this would be an unimpeachable form of indorsement ; but as the box of pills would make the guarantee good in case it killed the purchaser, the advertisement is ambiguous. This ambiguity may be intentional, thus ; 428 PRECISION. [Part IV. A familiar example is the word got, whicli may mean either was, or procured. Thus one boy says to another, with a grave face, "Fred got shot to-day." "Where?" asks the other, in alarm. "He got shot in a hardware store,'' is the answer — meaning, of course, that he bought it. A man assured a storekeeper who hesitated to trust his compan- ion for a purchase: "If he refuses to pay for it, I will." His companion refused to pay for it, and so did the speaker — as in one sense he had said he would. A sheriff asked the wife of a Quaker against whom he had a writ if her husband was at home. She replied: "Yes; he will see thee in a moment.'' The sheriff waited ; but the Quaker did not appear. He was contented with seeing the sheriff ; he did not care that the sheriff should see him. "Edward," said Mr. Kice, " what do I hear, that you have, dis- obeyed your grandmother, who told you just now not to jump down these steps ? " " Grandma didn't tell us not to, papa, she only came to the door and said, ' I wouldn't jump down those steps, boys,' and I shouldn't think she would, an old lady like her ! " "The candles you sold me last week were very bad," said Jer- rold to a tallow-chandler. "Indeed, sir, I am very sorry for that." " Yes, sir ; do you know they burnt to the middle, and then would burn no longer ? " ""You surprise me! What, sir, did they go out ? " " No, sir, no ; they burned shorter ! " — Mail. ■ Many popular puzzles depend on the ambiguity or double meaning of words and phrases. Thus we are told there was a man who had six children, and had never seen one of them. We are led to suppose that none of the children had ever been beheld by their parent. But the words may mean equally as well that one of them had been born while the man was on a journey, and he had, consequently, never seen that one. An- other puzzle 18 this. There was a poor blind begg.ir who had a brother : the brother died, but the man who died had no brother. What relation was the beggar to the man who died ? We are apt to think that the beg.sar was a man ; but, when we think that the beggar might be a girl, the answer becomes quite plain. We are told of two men who met each other at an inn, and greeted each other affec- tionately. The hotel-keeper inquired of one how he was related to the other, who replied : *' Brother and sister have I none, Yet this man's father was my father's son." This is a perfectly plain statement, and yet there are few whose minds are clear enough to see at once that this jingle of words is only a roundabout way of sj^ying that this man was the speaker's son. Chap. XXI.] COLLOCATIOX. 429 " The New York Central fast express ran off the bridge at Schenectady to-day," cries out a man, in affected horror, as he rushes up to a crowd of people. After many exclamations and in- quiries, he explains that after a train has run upon the bridge it generally does run off again. " I hope, my lord, if you ever come within a mile of my house, you will stay there all night," wrote Sir Boyle Koohe to a friend. The proprietor of a phosphate mill advertises that parties send- ing their own bones to be ground will be attended to with fidelity and despatch. In like manner a chemist advertises : " The gentle- man who left his stomach for analysis will please call and get it." Notice at the door of a ready-made clothing establishment in one of the poorer quarters of Paris : " Do not go somewhere else to be robbed ; walk in here. " "Furnished Lodgings. — A young man is open to hear of the above."— 4d»V. He must be the young man so easily seen through, because he had a pain in his chest and in his back. Perhaps it was he that testified in an application for life-insurance that his little brother died of some funny name. "I propose introducing some new features into the sei-vioe," said Eev. Mr. Textual. "All right," remarked Fogg. "New features in that pulpit are just what I am longing for." A lion tamer quarrelled with his wife, a powerful virago, and was chased by her all around his tent. On being sorely pressed he took refuge in the cage among the lions. " Oh, you contemp- tible coward," she shouted, " come out if you dare." An Irishman's friend having fallen into a slough, the Irishman called loudly to another for assistance. The latter, who was busily engaged in cutting a log, and wished to procrastinate, in- quired, " How deep is the gentleman in ? " " Up to his ankles." "Then there is plenty of time," said the other. "No, there is not," rejoined the first ; "I forgot to tell you he's in head first." This reminds one of the man who exasperated a painter by driv- ing a close bargain for a half-length portrait. The portrait was delivered according to agreement, but proved to be of the lower half, stopping at the waist-belt. Dominique, when at table with the King, kept his eyes on a / 430 PRECISION. [Part IV. dish of partridges. The Prince, who noticed it, said to the ser- vant, "Give that dish to Dominique.'' "What, Sire, and the partridges too?" The King replied, "Yes! and the partridges too." So Dominique had, with the partridges, the plate, which was of gold. A Philadelphia paper published the following paragraph : An enamored Philacleli)hian has been convicted of petty larceny for abstracting his adored one's carte de visite from her photograph album ; the Judge decided that to steal a " carte " was as bad as to steal a horse.^ A contemporary made use of it as follows, being careful, of course, to leave out the pun : A Philadelphia Judge decides that st:'aling a girl's photograph from her album is as bad as stealing a horse from a barn. Here is an interesting piece of local information from Newburg : One of our most thickly inhabited streets has had a case of varioloid. A contemporary in reproducing this blunder says seriously enough : Such news should make other localities careful about vaccination. In a recent number of a fashionable morning paper there is a paragraph headed, "A Dangerous Cow," of which it is said not only that it tossed several persons, but that " it plunged and tossed about the street in a formidable manner." — Moon. A story is told of an Englishman who landed at Dublin, filled with apprehension that the life of any loyal subject of her Majesty was not worth a farthing there and there- abouts. The Land Leaguers, he imagined, were all bloodthirsty assassins, and all that sort of thing. But it was his duty to travel in the land— a duty he approached with fear and trembling. Now there happened to be on his route a number of towns the names of which begin with the suggestive syllable "Kil." They were Kilmartin, and so on. In his ignorance of geographical nomenclature, his affrighted senses were startled anew on hearing a fellow passenger in a railway carriage remark to another as follows ; " I'm just afther bein' over to Kilpatrlck." " And I," replied the other, " am afther bein' over to Kilmary." " What murderers they are 1 " thought the Englishman : " and to think that they talk of their assassinations so publicly!" But the conversati..n went on, "And phare are ye goin' now ! " asked assassin No. 1. " I'm goin' home, and then to Kilmore," was No. 2'8 reply. The Englishman's blood curdled. "Kilmore, is it?" added No. 1. " Tou'd betther be corain' along wud me to Kilumalle ! " It is related that the English- man left the train at the next station. Constructions must be avoided that make it difficult to determine which of two parts of speech a word is, or what Chap. Xtt.] AMfelGtriTx. 4:31 relation it bears to the rest of the sentence. See pages cii, 414. Thus, on page 191, " dreams " may be either a verb or a noun. The ambiguity is removed by substi- tuting " to dream," for " and dreams." Care to avoid ambiguity from collocation must extend even to the possibility of mispronunciation. Once when Edwin Forrest was playing " William Tell " in Bos- ton, Sarnem, Gesler's lieutenant, should have remarked : "I see you love a jest, but jest not now." Imagine Forrest's feelings when that worthy declaimed : "I see you love a jest, but not jest now.'' Lady (engaging footman) : " You are clever at table? " Jeames . " Yes, ma'am." Lady : " And you know your way to announce ? " Jeames : " Well, ma'am, I know my weight to a pound or so, but I hardly like to say to an ounce." — Funny Polks. Some special words are so liable to produce am- biguity that they should be scrutinized in re-reading a composition. Any, when not modified by a negative, means " any you like," i.e., "every;" but "not any," instead of meaning " not every " means " not a single one." Hence, when the negative is carelessly placed, any becomes ambiguous, because we cannot tell whether it means every, or one, e.g. .- No person shall derive any benefit from this rule who has not been engaged for at least five years to a house of business employing not less than a hundred derks at anj/ time. This ought to mean, "employing at no time less than a hun- dred clerks ; " but any in such cases is often confused with some. Again, in I cannot believe anything you say, and I cannot believe anything you choose to say, anything means, in the first case, " a single thing," in the second case "everything." It is quite impossible to determine, without fuller context, the meaning of the word any in such a sentence as^ I am not bound to receive any messenger whom you may send. 432 PRECISION. [Part IV. But sometimes causes obscurity ; and since it may mean, ac- cording to the context, "except," or "on the other hand," or " only," must be very carefully handled. As for tbe falsehood of yonr brother, I feel no doubt ; but what you say is true. As for the falsehood of your brother, I feel uo doubt but what you say is true. I expected twelve ; hut (either only or contrary to iny expectation) ten came. The following is perfectly clear, but shows the possibility of ambiguity : — There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave. — Hamlet. — Abbott. Nothing less than is another plirase susceptible of opposite interpi-etations. Thus, He aimed at nothing less than the crown, may denote either. Nothing was less aimed at by him than the crown, or, Nothing inferior to the ci'own could satisfy his ambition. All such phrases ought to be totally laid aside. — Campbell. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Precision. 1 . T/ie words employed, p. 399. Words may lack precision through : a. The confounding of synonyms, p. 399. An extensive vocabulary, p. 401. The choice of words, p. 408. J. The use of equivocal words, p. 409. c. The iise of general words, p. 410. 2. The coTwtructkm, p. 411. a. Brevity, p. 411. i. Omission of necessary words, p. 411. it Use of ambiguous pronouns, p. 413. Chap. XXI.] TOPICAL ANALYSIS. 433 A genderless personal noun, p. 416. The use of " one," p. 417. Reflexive pronouns, p. 417. b. Redundance, p. 418. c. Affectation, p. 419. Bombast, p. 431. Affected humor, p. 435. d. Looseness of thought, p. 435. Carelessness, p. 436. Collocation, p. 427. Some special words, p. 431 . "Nothing less than," p. 433 CHAPTER XXII. PERSPICUITY. Out of the relations of thouglit and language, and the spenker to the hearer, grow three qualities of a good style. They are perspicuity, energy, and elegance. Perepicu- ity expresses the clearnees of the thought to the perceptions of the hearer. Energy ex- presses the force of the thought to the sensibilities of the hearer. Elegance expresses the beauty of the thought to the taste of the hearer.— Phelps. Purity, Propriety, and Precision are all absolute qual- ities. Perspicuity, Power, and Perfection are relative qualities, dependent upon the perception, the sensibilities, and the taste of the reader. Precision demands that the sentence say what the writer means. Perspicuity demands, further, that it say what the writer means so clearly that the reader cannot mistake it.' Whether a given sentence is perspicuous depends upon who is to I'ead it. Herbert Spencer's defi- nition of evolution (see page 357) is precise, but it is per- spicuous only to scientists. The fundamental requirement of perspicuity is adaptation to the audience addressed. "I had remarked to him" [Coleridge], says Mr. De Quincey, "that the sophism, as it is usually called, but the difficulty, as it should be called, of Achilles and the Tortoise, which had puzzled all the sages of Greece, was, in fact, merely another form of the perplexity which besets decimal fractions ; that, for example, if you threw % into a decimal form, it will never terminate, but be . 666666, etc. , ad infinitum. ' Yes, ' Coleridge replied, ' the appar- 1 Non ut intelligere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intelligere curandum. — QuiN- TILIAN. Chap. XXII.j PERSPICUITY'. 435 ent absurdity m the Grecian problem arises thus, — because it as- sumes the innnite divisibility of space, but drops out of view the corresponding infinity of time.' Thei-e was a flash of lightning, which illuminated a darkness that had existed for twenty-three centuries." Coleridge's explanation was precise ; as addressed to De Quincey it was perspicuous ; but had it been made to a class in a primary school it would have been decidedly obscure. Universally, indeed, an unpractised writer is liable to be misled by his own knowledge of his own meaning into supposing those expressions clearly intelligible which are so to him, but which may not be so to the reader, whose thoughts are not in the same train. And hence it is that some do not write or speak with so much per- spicuity on a subject which has long been very familiar to them, as on one which they understand indeed, but with which they are less intimately acquainted, and in which their knowledge has been more recently acquired. In the former case it is a matter of some difficulty to keep in mind the necessity of carefully and copiously explaining principles which by long habit have come to assume, in our minds, the appearance of self-evident truths. Uttei4y in- correct, therefore, is Blair's notion, that obscurity of style neces- sarily springs from indistinctness of conception. A little conversa- tion on nautical affairs with sailors, or on agriculture with farmers, would soon have undeceived him. — Whately. A Government surveyor tells of a western pioneer who seemed interested in the theodolite. The surveyor explained its work- ing, and found the pioneer so attentive that he went on to illus- trate the variation of the needle, the magnetic currents, the pre- cession of the equinoxes, and finally the calculation of coming eclipses, congratulating himself upon finding so intelligent a listener. After two hours of this, the pioneer for the first time broke silence. " It's wonderful, wonderful," he exclaimed. "And mebbe you can show me another thing that's always bothered me. "Why is it that in adding up figures, you have to carry one for every ten ? " 436 PERSPICUITY. [Part IV- Teachers learn to measure the information they give not by -Vhat they tell their scholars, but by what their scholars tell back to them. It is agreed among aU writers upon rhetoric, that the first property in style is that by virtue of which it is intelligible. The understanding is the avenue to the man. No one is affected by truth who does not apprehend it. Discourse must, therefore, first of all, be plain. This property was termed perspicuitas, by the Latin ihetoricians. It is trans- parency in discourse, as the etymology denotes The word ei/epyeia, which the Greek rhetoricians employed to mark this same characteristic, signifies distinctness of outline. The adjective evapyns is applied by Homer to the gods, when actually appearing to hu- man vision in their own bright forms ; when, like Apollo, they broke through the dim ether that ordinarily veiled them from mortal eyes, and sto :d out on the edge of the horizon distinctly defined, radiant, and splendid (Od. vii. 201, 3). Vividness seems to have been the ruling conception for the Greek, in this property of style, and transparency for the Latin. The English and French rhetoricians have transfei-red the La,tm perspi- cuitas, to designate the quality of intelligibility in discourse. The Germans have not transferred the Latin word, because the remarkable flexibility of their language relieves them from the necessity of transferring words from other languages, but they have coined one {Durehsichtigkeit) in their own mint, which agrees in signification precisely with the 'LaXin perspicuitas. These facts evince that the modern mind is inclined, with the Latin, to compare the property of intelligibility of style to a clear pellucid medium ; to crystal or glass, that permits the rays of light to go through, and thus permits the human eye to see through. While, however, the attention is fixed upon this conception of transparency, and the property under consideration is denominated perspicuity in the rhetorical nomenclature, it is important not to lose sight of that other conception of distinctness, or vividness, which was the leading one for the Greek mind. Style is not only a medium, it is also a form. It is not only translucent and transparent, like the undefined and all-pervading atmosphere; it also has definite outlines, like a single object Style is not only clear, like the light; it is rotund liks the sun. While, therefore, the conception of perspicuity of medium is retained, there should also be combined with it the conception of fulness of outline, and vividness oC impression, so as to secure a comprehensive and all-including idea of that first fundamental ctuality of style which renders it intelligible. It is not enough that thoughts be seen through a clear medium ; theymustbe seen in a distinct shape. It is not enough that truth be visible in a clear, pure air \ it must stand out in that air, a single, well-defined object. The atmosphere must not only be crystal- line and sparkling, but the things in it must be bounded and defined by sharply cut lines. There may be perspicuity without distinctness, especially without that vivid disthictness which is implied in the Greek kvepyela. A style mav be as transparent as water, and yet the thoughts be destitute of boldness and individuality. Such a style cannot be charged with obscurity, and yet it does not set truth before the mind of the reader or hearer in a striking or Impressive manner. Mere isolated perspicuity is a negative quality ; it furnishes a good medium of vision, but it does not present any distinct objects of vision, Distinctness of outline, on the other hand, is a positive quality. It implies a vigorous action of the mind upon the truth, whereby it is moulded and shaped : whereby it is cut and chiselled like a statue ; whereby it is made to assume a substantial and well-defined form which smites upon the eye, and which the eye can take in.— Shedd. " Our language," says Quintilian, "ought to convey our meaning so clearly that the meaning shall fall on the hearers' minds as the sunlight falls on our eyes." But the sun- Chap. XXII.] SIMPLICITY. 437 ehine of winter is cold and barren, although its radiance is brightened by the transpar- ency of the air and the reflections of the ice and pnow. The summer's snn has less bril- Uanoy indeed, but far more heat -a heat that causes blue vapors to veil the distant hills and silver mists to wreath the green mountains, that gathers storm-clouds which darken the earth and sky and discharge such volleys of lightning as render that darkness all the more appalling. — Hekvey. Simplicity is a prime essential to Perspicuity, and should be aimed at both (i) in Thought, and (ii) in Ex- pression. (I.) Thought is Simple when it is direct, straight- forward, intent solely on the truth concerned, and its clearest expression. (See pages 346, 347, 348.) Mozart gave as his reasons for marrying : " I wish to marry because I have no one to take care of my linen ; because I cannot live like the dissolute men around me ; and be- cause I love Catharine Weber." Cultivate simplicity, Coleridge ; or rather, I should say, banish elaborateness ; for simplicity springs spontaneous from the heart, and carries into daylight its own modest buds, and genuine, sweet, and clear flowers of expression. I allow no hot-beds in the gar- dens of Parnassus. — C. Lamb. Youthful vanity and inexperience alone sufficiently account for the great part of the deviations from propriety, simplicity, and common sense now alluded to. Those who laud nature in oppo- sition to art are too apt to forget that this very vanity forms a part of it. . . . "While some men talk as if to speak naturally were to speak like a natural, others talk as if to speak with simplicity meant to speak like a simpleton. True simplicity does not con- sist in what is trite, bald, or commonplace. So far as regards the thought it means, not what is already obvious to everybody, but what, though not obvious, is immediately" recognized, as soon as propounded, to be true and striking. As it regards the expression, it means that thoughts worth hearing are expressed in language that every one can understand. In the first point of view it is opposed to what is abstruse ; in the second, to what is obscure. — Whatelv. I . Conceive of things clearly and distinctly in their 438 PERSPICUITY. [Part IV. own natures. 2. Conceive of things ' completely in all their parts. 3. Conceive of things comprehensively in all their properties and relations. 4. Conceive of things ex- tensively in all their kinds. 5. Conceive of things orderly, or in a proper method. — Watts. I cannot conclude this lecture without insisting on the impor- tance of accuracy of style as being near akin to veracity and truth- ful habits of mind ; he who thinks loosely will write loosely. — OoLBRrDQE. Propriety of thought and propriety of diction are commonly found together. Obscurity and affectation are the two greatest faults of style. Obscurity of expression generally springs from confusion of ideas ; and the same wish to dazzle at any cost which produces affectation in the manner of a writer, is likely to produce; sophistry in his reasonings. — MacauiiAY. One would indeed think it hardly possible that a man of sense who perfectly under- standeth the language which he useth should ever speak or write in such a manner as to- be altogether unintelligible. Yet this is what frequently happens. The cause of thia fault in any writer I take to be always one or other of the three following : first, great confusion of thought, which is commonly accompanied with intricacy in the expression ;: secondly, affectation of excellence in the diction ; thirdly, a total want of meaning. I do not mention as one of the causes of this imputation a penury of language ; though this, doubtless, may contribute to produce it. In fact I never found one who had a justness of appreciation, and was free from affectation, at a loss to make himself understood in his native tungue, even though he had little command of language, and made but a bad choice of words-— Campbell. Titles often mislead through affectation of quaintness. Unfortunately, writers are not careful in their choice of names, and titles are occasionally adopted which, instead of explaining the nature of the book, serve only to mislead the buyer. Mr. Eus- kin, who is noted for such unintelligible titles as " Fors Clavigera " and " Sesame and Lilies," issued a theological discourse under the name of " A Treatise on Sheepfolds," thus leading astray many librarians and indexers, as well as unsuspecting farmers and shep- herds. The "Diversions of Purley,"at the time of its publication, was ordered by a village book-club under the impression that it was a book of amusing games. The " Essay on Irish Bulls " was another work which was thought by some folks to deal with live Chap. XXII.J SIMPLICITY. 439 stock. " Moths," a novel by Ouida, has been a.sked for under the impression that it was an entomological work, and Charles Kings- ley's "Yeast," by those in search of information on the Torula cerevisice, or yeast-plant. Coleridge's " Ancient Mariner " was sold largely to seafaring men, who concluded from the name that it had some relation to nautical matters. Coleridge himself says : It i£ Gomewhat-. singular that the uame of another and larger book of Mr. Wordsworth's should also owe its circulation to a misconception of the title. It has been my fortune to have met with '' The Excursion " at a great number of inns and boarding-houses in pic- turesque scenes — in places where parties go for excursiuus ; and upon inquiry how it hap- pened that po expensive a book was purchased, when an old Universal Magazine, an "Athenian Oracle," or, at best, one of the " Bridgewater Treatises," would do as well to send the guests to sleep — 1 was given to understand in those separate places that they were left-by parties who had finished their material excursion, but, alas for their taste, had left their poetic " Excursion " uniouclied — uncut, even, beyond the story of " Mar- garet." — C/iamiers's Journal. (ii.) Expression is Simple when it expresses the thought in the most direct and obvious words. "Think with the learned, speali with the vulgar," says Bacon. " There are six little ones who call General Grant ' grandpa,' " was a recent newspaper paragraph. This was in the first place untrue, the counting of the grandchildren having been suggested by the birth of the sixth, who at this time did not call anybody anything. But on general principles the paragraph would be more perspicuous and more forcible if it read simply, " General Grant has six grandchildren." The whole merit of violent deviations from common style de- pends upon their, rarity, and nothing does for ten pages together but the indicative mood. — Stcdney Smith. If you take Sophocles, Catullus, Lucretius, and the better parts of Cicero, and so on, you may, with just two or three excep- tions, arising out of the different idioms as to oases, translate page after page into good mother English, word by word, without altering the order ; but you cannot do so with Virgil or TibuUus. If you attempt it you will make nonsense.— ConEKiDGE. The writings of Addison and Dr. Johnson have often been com- pared. One of the chief points of contrast in their style lies, I 440 . PERSPICriTY. [PartIV. apprehend, in the easy and natural recurrence in the former of the verb, and the artificial preponderance given in the latter to the noun. Since Dr. Johnson's time the substantive has been gaining ground ; the infinitive mood, the gerund, and the compound par- ticiple have been in the same proportion suppressed in many works of which the composition is highly elaborate. As far as un- studied writings can be expressed in set phrases, the usurpation has extended even to these. — Hall. Dr. Allen was preaching one day in Tennespee, when an old Methodist African came to him after the sermon, and said, " I like to hear you preach, foi I understand your preaching." Dr. Allen replied, '■ I am glad of it." ''But I understand every word you say." " 1 hope so," said the clei'gyman, " for I try to make myself understood." Again the man came to the charge. " Yes," he said, " I understand you jes' as well as if you was a nigger." Periodic Structure of sentences often makes the meaning clearer, but when habitual or excessive becomes tedious. The period is a structure in which the completion of the sense is suspended till the close. The ancient rhetoricians compared it to a sling, from which the stone is ejected after many circuits. A loose sentence is one in which the end might grammatically occur before the close. Such a sentence is a chain, from which a link may be dropped from the end, and it will still be a chain, and will have an end. The periodic structiire is a glass ball ; to part with a fragment of it is to ruin the whole. — Phelps. All of these are instances also of perfect antithesis without pe- riod ; for each of these sentences might grammatically be con- cluded in the middle. So also, " It is (indeed) a just maxim that honesty is the best policy ; but he who is governed by that maxim is not an honest man." This antithetical sentence is or is not a period, according as the word " indeed " is inserted or omitted. — Whaxely. John Morley, in writing of Cobden's style, says that classical training is more aptly calculated to destroy the qualities of good writing and fine speaking than any other system that could have been conti-ived. He refers to the excessive use of the periodic structure ; but much as the Chap. XXII.] PARENTHESES. 441 period is to be condemned where the meaning might as well have been expressed by. short sentences, it is indis- pensable to perspicuity when the thonglit is complex. The following is an example of the pe?-iod ■■ — Compelled by want to attendance and solicitation, and ho much versed in common life, tTiOt he has transmitted to us the most perfect delineation of the manners of his age, Erasmus joined to his knowledge of the world siKh application to books, that he will stand for ever in the first rank of literary heroes. The words on which the thread of the sentence is suspended are printed in italics. The introductory clauses, "Compelled . . . age," are obviously attributive, and lead us to expect a subject to which they relate. We.find that subject in " Erasmus." The latter part of the sentence is held together by the correlative particles " such " and " that." The following illustrates the loose construction : — It is in vain to say that the portraits which exist of this remarkable woman are not like each other ; for, amidst their discrepancy, each possesses general features whi^h the eye at once acknowledges as peculiar to the vision, which our imagination has raised, while we read her history for the first time, and v high has been impressed upon it by the numerous prints and pictures which we have seen. This sentence is not only loose, but viciously so. In the second member of it, the main assertion ends with "features." To this word, two of the remaining clauses are clumsily attached by "which," and each of these has another "which" clause attached to it, one of them being still further prolonged by the clause be- ginning with " while.'' Be-write this sentence in periodic form. Parentheses should be avoided except when they express a thought more completely without clogging it. For many illustrations, see pages 271-274. Some- critics have been so strongly persuaded of the bad effects of parentheses on perspicuity as to think they ought to be dis- carded altogether. But this I imagine is also an extreme. If the parenthesis be short, and if it be introduced in a proper place, it will not in the least hurt the clearness, and may add both to the vivacity and to the energy of the sentence. — Oampbelii. 442 PERSPICUITY. [Part IV. " I Sat." — A very bad sentence this ; into which, by the help of a parenthesis and other interjected circumstances, his lordship has contrived to thrust so many things that he is forced to begin the construction again with the phrase / say, which, whenever it occurs, may be always assumed as a sure mark of a clumsily ill- constructed sentence ; excusable in speaking, where the greatest accuracy is not expected, but in polished writing unpardonable. — Blaib. Excessive Simplicity seems at first an impossi- bility, but there are certain considerations worthy of at- tention. (a) Simplicity must not ie Affected. — Simple language is to be chosen, not because it is simple, but because it best expresses the meaning. To assume unnatural sim- plicity under the impression that simplicity in itself is an ornament, and because it is thought to be an ornament, is more ridiculous than the affectation of elegance. Obsebvations should not be proposed in scholastic style, nor in commonplace guise. They should be seasoned with a sweet ur- banity, accommodated to the capacities of the people, and adapted to the manners of good men. One of the best expedients for this purpose is a reduction of obscure matters to a natural, popular, modem air. You can never attain this ability unless you acquire a habit of conceiving clearly of subjects yourself, and of expressing them in a free, familiar, easy manner, remote from everything forced and far-fetched. All long trains of arguments, all embar- rassments of divisions and subdivisions, all metaphysical investi- gations, which are mostly impertinent, and, like the fields, the cities, and the houses which we imagine in the clouds, the mere creatures of fancy — all these should be avoided. Care must be taken, however, to avoid the opposite extreme, which consists in making only poor, dry, spiritless observations, frequently said under pretence of avoiding school-divinity, and of speaking only popular things. Endeavor to think clearly, and try also to think nobly. Let your observations be replete with beauty as well as propriety, the fruits of a fine fancy under the Chap. XXII.] SIMPLICITY. 443 direction of a sober judgment. If you be inattentive to this ar- ticle, you will pass for a contemptible declaimer, of mean and shallow capacity, exhausting yourself and not edifying your hear- ers; a very ridiculous character.— Claude. Wordsworth's weak side, as a. poet, was hin great difficulty in perceiving when he bad and when he had not succeeded in fusing the langUHge which he ueed with the fire of his own meditative passion. Sometimes in the midst of a passage oE the truest rapture, he will descend suddenly upon a little bit of dry, hard fact, and not be at all aware that the fact remains like an irregular, unlovely stone pressing down a group of flowers, u monu- ment of the sudden failure of the power of his emotion over his language. Thus, in the lovely lines, " She was a phantom of delight,'' the reader is suddenly oppressed by being told that the poet at last sees, " with eye serene, the very pulse of the machine,"— as if a phantom of delight could possibly have been a machine, or even, like a waxwork figure, contained one. There is the same fault in one of the finest of the original " Lyrical Bal- lads,"— the one called " The Thorn," of which Mr:^. Oliphant, by the way, who does not seom to have written with a copy of the '* Lyrical Ballads " before her, makes no men- tion, but which Lord Jeffrey epitomized, if we remember rightly, as describing how a woman in a red cloak went up to the top of a hill and said, *' Oh, misery ! " and then came down again. The greater part of the ballad. Lord Jeffrey " to the contrary in any- wise notwithstanding," as the lawyers say, is penetrated through and through by the most genuine imaginative passion ; but when, in the form in which the poem originally appeared, Wordsworth specified the dimensions of the little muddy pool by the infant's grave — I've measured it from Bide to side ; 'Tis three feet long and two feet wide, he suddenly precipitated, as it were, into the midst of his poem a little deposit of ugly clay, which made his readers change tlie sob which the finer parts of the ballad excited into a hysterical giggle. Wordsworth's weakness — especially in the earlier part of his career as a poet — was this, that he never knew ho>v far his imagination had ti-ansmuted, or had failed to transmute, the rough clay of rude cii'cumstances into the material of plastic arc. He was not awakened from his dream by such a descent as we have just quoted, and he did not know that his readers, who did not fully enter into his ecstasy, and probably did see, wlint Wordsworth could not see, the ludicrous contrasts and ine- qualities of his mood, would be awakened from their dream by these shocks. — T/ie Spec- tator. (b) Simplicity must never seem a Condescension. — Not men alone, bnt children as well, resent the imputation that it is necessary to adapt one's thouglits and vocabulary to their ignorance. It is a just and curious observation of Dr. Kenrick that * ' the case of languages, or rather speech, being quite contrary to that of science, in the former the ignorant understand the learned better than the learned do the ignorant, in the latter it is other- wise." — Campbbmj^ f 444 PERSPICUITY. [Pakt IV. Tlie style of a sermon may, like the stars, be at once very clear and very lofty ; while the peasant derives from the stars rules for farming and the mariner for sailing, the mathematician equally draws thence the principles that guide him in his astronomical calculations. The former, unable, it may be, either to read or write, can nevertheless apprehend the stars as far as is necessary for him ; the latter, in spite of all his scientific knowledge, is very far from comprehending all the stellar universe. — Autonio Vze- TBBA. So far as it is meant to gain favor by patronizing, sim- plicity, like other affectations, fails of its end ; for tliere is in ignorant minds a not wholly unreasonable fondness for thoughts they have to grope after. Part of Kufus Choate's power over juries lay iu the delicious indefinite- ness of his style, which made the unlearned feel there was much to admire, and would be much to convince if they could only understand it. It must be accepted as a fact (and we commend it to the atten- tion of those who cherish romantic notions of human nature), that the more weak and ignorant men are, the less inclined they are to receive instruction, unless it is in somewise concealed, or made to pass under another name. In proof of this we need only mention the incessant return of the phrase " you know " in talk and cor- respondence. — Hbhvby. A clergyman in the country had a stranger preaching for him one day, and meeting his sexton asked, "Well, Saunders, how did you like the sermon to-day?" "It was rather ower plain and simple for me. I like thae sermons best that jumbles the joodg- ment and confounds the sense. Ah, sir, I never saw one that could come up to yoursel' at that." The ultra-practical Francis de Sales, after hearing from another in his own pulpit a sublime sermon that greatly delighted his mountaineers, asked some of them what they had gained from it. One of them replied : " This preacher teaches us to esteem more highly the grandeur of the mysteries of our religion." De Sales Chap. XXII.] SIMPLICITY. 445 was forced to admit that this man, at least, had profited by the sermon. Bichard Baxter, no mean example for religious teachers and oatechisers, purposely threw out some things in his sermons that were beyond the comprehension of his hearers, in order that they might learn to be dissatisfied with their existing stock of Christian knowledge. " Wherefore," says Chrysostom in one of his homilies, " hS;ve I presented this difficulty and not appended its solution ? " He replies that herein he proceeds like doves, which, as long as their young remain in the nest, feed them from their own bills ; but as soon as they are fledged and leave the nest, the mother lets food fall upon the earth, and the little ones pick it up. — Hbkvby. The more simple, clear, and obvious any principle is rendered, the more likely is its exposition to elicit these common remarks; '"Of course 1 of course I no one conld ever doubt that ; this is all very true, but there is nothing new brought to light ; nothing that was not familiar to every one ; there needs no ghost to tell us that." I am convinced that a verbose, mystical, and partially obscure way of writing on such a subject is the most likely to catch the attention of the multitude. The generality verify the observation of Tacitus, omne ignotum pro inagntfico, and when anything is made very plain to them are apt to fancy that they know it ah-eady. — Colebxdqe. Simplicity vs. TKirBNESR. — If you entertain your reader solely or chiefly with thoughts that are either trite or obvious, you can- not fail to tire him. You introduce few or no new sentiments into his mind, you give him little or no infoimation, and consequently afford neither exercise to his reason nor entertainment to his fancy. In what we read and what we hear, we always seek for something in one respect or other new, which we did not know, or at least attend to before. The less we find of this, the sooner we are tired. Such a trifiing minuteness, therefore, in narration, description, or argument, as an ordinary apprehension would render superfluous, is apt quickly to disgust us. The reason is, not because anything is said too perspicuously, but because many things are said which ought not to be said at all. Nay, if those very things had been expressed obscurely (and the most obvious things may be expressed obscurely), the fault would have been much greater ; because it would have required a good deal of at- tention to discover what, after we had discovered it, we should perceive not to be of sufficient value for requiting our pains. To 446 PERSPICUlf Y. [Part IV. an author of this kinpl we should be apt to apply the character which Bassanio in the play gives of Gratiano's conversation : He speaks an infinUe deal of nothing. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff ; you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them they are not worth the search. — Merchant of Vtnice. It is therefore futility in the thought, and not perspicuity in the language, which is the fault of such performances. There is as little hazard that a piece shall be faulty in this respect, as that a mirror shall be too faithful in reflecting the images of objects, or that the glasses of a telescope shall be too transparent. At the same time it is not to be dissembled that with inatten- tive readers, a pretty numerous class, darkness frequently passes for depth. To be perspicuous, on the contrary, and to be super- ficial, are regarded by them as synonymous. But it is not surely to their absurd notions that our language ought to be adapted. — Campbell. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Perspicuity. Simplicity essential to perspicuity, p. 437. i. Simplicity m thought, p. 437. 1. Things should be conceived clearly, 437. 2. " " " completely, p. 438. 3. " " " comprehensively, p. 438. 4. " " " extensively, p. 438. 5. " " " orderly, p. 438. Titles, p. 438. ii. Simplicity in expression, p. 489. Periodic structure, p. 440. Parentheses, p. 441. Excessive simplicity, 443. o. Simplicity must not be affected, p. 442. b. ' ' must never seem a condescension, p. 443. Simplicity rs. Triteness, p. 445. CHAPTER XXIII. POWER. Power (often known as Energy, Strength, Force) is that quality of style which makes it impressive. Pre- cision and Perspicuity make the reader know what is meant ; Power makes him feel what is meant. Precision and Perspicuity make the hearer know what he ought to do ; Power makes him resolve to do it. These words, which have their synonyms in all language — energy, strength, force, vigor — do certainly express an idea not otherwise definable than by interchange of these words. They convey an idea which the common sense of men never confounds with the impressiveness of a mathematical theorem,: or that of a bird of paradise, or that of the tail of a peacock. These words are ultimate in all languages ; so that we cannot add to their sig- nificance, except by material emblems. We can only say that energy is a peculiar kind of impressiveness ; it is the impressive- ness of strength, as distinct from that of clearness ; it is the im- pressiveness of force, as distinct from that of beauty ; it is the im- pressiveness of vigor, as distinct from that of vivacity. — PheiiPS. (I.) In Thought, Power is dependent chiefly upon {a) Sincerity, and (5) Directness. (a) Sincerity combines reality of conviction, and earnestness of purpose, with freedom from unfairness and from dishonesty. The Latin original meant " without wax," and was applied to honey that was just what it pur- ported to be. In speech we apply the word when one Chap. XXIII.] DIRECTNESS. 449 says what he means, and means what he says. Such utterance always commands respect, and usually commands attention. Without it, words are as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. Conviction is more than opinion ; it is firm belief, attained by consideration, and fortified by experience. One who holds only opinions — vague, shifting, embodying little thought or observa- tion — will write nothing forcible, because he has no vigorous ideas. So true is this that in the lightest conversation (see pages 27, 76) one mjist take. sides temporarily even upon subjects that are indifferent, or the talk will be platitudinous. In conversation this is sometimes excusable and even necessary, because the range of practical topics may include none upon which both persons have pronounced opinions. Sometimes in periodical newspaper work the same necessity arises ; the editor must say something about a subject that has no interest for him, because his readers expect something said about it. But if such occasions are frequent, the editor may be sure that he has mistaken either his calling or his community ; he cannot long, assume an interest he does not feel, and he will find no readers for articles he has written with- out an interest. The exceptions are rare to the rule that the essay should be written because one has a conviction to express. A con- viction hastily and artificially built up because one has an essay to write wiU fall flat. (b) Directness characterizes a strong mind. To see clearly, to feel deeply, to speak forcibly, the mind must be fixed on one thing, and one thing only. A dozen argu- ments, a score of illustrations, a hundred facts may be cited, but all must be subordinated to the one end in \iew — selected because they promote it, and arranged with reference to the perspective (see page 251). These are ascending stairs — a good voice, winning manners, plain speech, chastened however by the schools into correctness ; but we must come to the main matters, of power of statement — know your fact, hug your fact. — Emerson. 450 POWER. [Part XV. (2) Ih Expression. Precision and perspicuity being assumed, power is dependent chiefly on {a) plainness, and (i) conciseness. (a) Plainness of speech indicates that the writer has something to say, and that his reliance is upon the ideas ^ themselves^not upon their verbal apparel. The first valuable power in a reasonable mind, one would say, was the power of plain statement, or the power to receive things as they befall, and to transfer the picture of them to another mind unaltered. 'Tis a good rule of rhetoric which Schlegel gives — ■ "In good prose every word is imderscored ; " which, I suppose, means never italicize. Spartans, Stoics, heroes, saints, and gods use a short and positive speech. They are never oif their centres. As soon as they swell and pant and find truth not enough for them, softening of the brain has alyeady begun. It seems as if in- flation were a disease incident to too much use of words ; and the remedy lay in recourse to things. I am daily struck with the forcible undei'statement of people who have no literary habits. The low expression is strong and agreeable. The citizen dwells in delusions. His dress and draperies, house and stables, occupy him. The po'or countryman, having no circumstances of carpets, coaches, dinners, wine and dancing in head to confuse him, is able to look straight at you, without refraction or prismatic glories, and he sees whether your head is addled by this mixture of wines. The common people diminish ; "a cold snap ; " " it rains easy ; " "good haying weather." When a farmer means to tell you that he is doing well with his farm, he says : "I don't work as hard as I did, and I don't mean to." When he wishes to condemn any treatment of soils or stock, he says: "It won't do any good." Under the Catskill mountains the boy in the steamboat said, " Come up here, Tony ; it looks pretty out-of-doors." — Emebson. "I don't know how to apologize," Max Adeler makes a raga- muffin who is ashamed of himself exclaim ; " but if you want to kick me down the front steps, just kick away — I'll bear it like an angel." Even a sophisticated mind is caught by plain utterances. The man who has spoiled his tastes and sympathies by an artificial and Chap. XXIll.] BLtTNTNESS. 451 showy cultivation is nevertheless struck by the vigor and raciness of plain sense. In Ihe phrase of Horace, though he has driven nature out of his understanding with a fork, she yet returns when truth appears. And this is a hold which a plain speaker has upon an audience of false tastes and false refinement. There is an in- stinctive sagacity in man which needs this plainness of presenta- tion, and which craves it and is satisfied with it. — Seedd. Coleridge says of Roger North : His language gives us the very nerve, pulse, and sinew, of a hearty, healthy, conver- sational English ; and he gives this illustration of his style : He appeared very ambitious to learn to write ; and one of the attorneys got a board knocked np at a window on the top of a staircase ; and that was his desk, where he sat and wrote after copies of court and other hands that the clerks gave him. On the title-page to " Put Yourself in his Place," Charles Eeade thus translates a famous sentence of Horace's : I will fi'amc a work of fiction upon notorious fact, so that anybody shall think he can do the same ; shall labor and toil, attempting the same, and fail— such is the power of sequence and connection in writing. Bluntness is a degree of plainness sometimes per- missible, and always forcible where it does not suggest im- propriety. Grand, rough old Martin Luther Bloomed fables, flowers on furze : The better the uncouther : Do roses stick like burrs ? — Browning. Some people are so afiected in their delicacy, that their ears appear to be the nicest part about them. — Fielding. I have said that the popular craving for exact utterance of truth is often excessive. Men crave a coarse precision, a savage form of truth. Yet it is the truth after all. The common mind will not long retain a label of a distinguished contemporary if it is not true. Popular slang, in such cases, though etymologically loose, is commonly definite to the popular ear, and substantially exact. No language is more so. Thus, when a prince has proved himself bold, quick, decisive, ponderous in character, the popular voice has summed up its verdict in one figurative but exact title, " Charles the Hammer." When a military chief has proved him- 452 POWER. [Part IV. self sanguinary, cruel, ferocious, relentless, the people have told the whole story of his life in the single phrase, "Alva the Butcher." The watchwords of political parties again illustrate the same thing. They are often intensely figurative ; yet, if they have great force with the people, they are as intensely true. No style can ex- press the truth with more of that vividness which is often neces- sary to precise ideas in the popular mind. General Harrison owed his elevation to the presidency of our republic, in large measiu'e to his supposed sympathy with the simple and rude usages of backwoodsmen ; and this was expressed in the old war-cry of the "Whigs of 1840: "Log cabin and hard cider.'' General Taylor owed his election to the same ofiSce largely to the sobriquet which his soldiers gave him in the Mexican war, " Old Eough and Keady." General Scott was believed to have lost his election be- cause of the nickname by which his enemies ridiculed his well- known fondness for military etiquette, " Old Fuss and Feathers." Thousands of voters who cared nothing, and knew nothing, about the politics of the contending parties, knew as definitely as you do what those watchwords meant ; and they voted for and against the things which these words painted to their mental vision. A style in which men said what they meant, and meant what they believed, carried the day, although it was made up of popular slang. — Phekps. Find illustrations on pages 57, 71, 265. Coarseness, however, enfeebles ; for it produces disgust with the writer, which prejudices the reader against the views presented. "You Scotchmen," said.Edward Irving to Chalmers, "would > handle an idea as a butcher handles an ox." It has generally happened that the most effective public speak- ers, whether secular or sacred, have by a fastidious class been accused of vulgarisms. So with Cicero, Burke, and Chatham ; so with Patrick Henry and Daniel Webster ; and to turn to eminent preachers, so with Luther, Latimer, and "Whitefield. The reason was that, intent on the greatest good to the gi-eatest number, they used what Dr. Johnson, after Daniel Burgess, called "market language." And yet some carry this notion so far that they imag- Chap. XXIII.] COARSENESS. 453 ine that in speech the more vulgar they are the more energetic they must be. "Nor is it true," as Dr. Ward says, "that rough and harsh language is more strong and nervous than when the composition is smooth and harmonious. A stream which runs among stones and rocks makes more noise, from the opposition it meets with in its course ; but that which has not these impedi- inents flows with greater force and strength." — Hervet. In criticising, we must keep in mind how the staudai-d of propriety has varied, from age to age. The Eev. Joseph Dwight was the minister of Woodstock, Conn., about the year 1700. The sensational pulpit of our own time could hardly surpass him in the drollery of its expressions. "If unconverted men ever get to heaven," he said : " they woilld feel as uneasy as a shad up the crotch of a white-oak." This probably seemed less offensive to his congregation than it seemed not long ago, at a prayer-meeting, when Henry Ward Beeoher told about certain cellars from which malarial odors arose, and said that first one of the family died and then another from these odors. " They called it mysterious Providence," said Mr. Beeoher. "No such thing ; God knows it was rotten onions." In tlie use of words, again, local usage must be recog- nized. " Do taste this soup," said an English young woman to the man beside her at dinner ; " it isn't half nasty." The remark was unnoticed there, but would have been unpardonable at a Boston table. Mr. Lowell insists that " perspire " is a vulgar word, and that only " sweat " should be used. Yet in most American circles one does well to remember the distinction that a horse sweats, a man perspires, and a woman glows. The young man who began a letter to his betrothed, " Thou sweatest," found her no longer sweet to him. Those things which it is indecent to express vividly are always such as are conceived to have some turpitude in them, either nat- ural or moral. An example of this decency in expression, where 454 POWER. [Pakt IV. the subject hath some natural turpitude, you ■will find in Martha's answer, as it is in the original, when our Saviour gave orders to remove the stone from the sepulchre of her brother Lazarus, " Lord, by this time he smelleth (rjBr] S^i), for he hath been dead four days." In our version it is somewhat indelicately, not to say indecently, rendered stinketh. Our translators have in this in- stance unnecessarily receded from their ordinary rule of keeping as close as possible to thfe letter. The synecdoche in this place answers just as well in English as in Greek ; the perspicuity is such as secures the reader from the possibility of a mistake, at the same time that the expression is free from the indecency with which the other is chargeable. But if it be necessary to avoid a vivid exhibition of what appears uncleanly to the external senses, it is much more necessary in whatever may have a tendency to pol- lute the mind. It is not always the mention of vice, as such, which has this tendency. Many of the atrocious crimes may be men- tioned with great plainness without any such danger, and there- fore without the smallest indecorum. What the subjects are which are in this way dangerous, it is surely needless to explain. And as every person of sense will readily conceive the truth of the gen- eral sentiment, to propose without necessity to produce examples for the elucidation of it, might justly be charged with being a breach of that decency of which I am treating. — Campbell. The Distinction between bluntness and coarseness is that the former is recognized by the writer as harsh, but adopted because harshness seems, under tlie circum- stances, to be necessary ; while the latter is the uncon- scious manifestation of low instinct and low taste. Thus in rhythm what would if unconscious be an unpardonable blunder, .may, when a certain effect is to be produced, appear an artist-stroke. For instance, ,.,- And ten slow words oft creep in one dull line, is a most unmusical verse, and perfect because it is unmusical, being intended to illustrate that fault. But there would be no hope for the writer who let such verses slip into his poems with- out knowing that they were unmusical, Chap. XXIII.] THE VELVET GLOVE. 455 So true is it that only the necessity of such utterance makes bluntness permissible, that the severest remark gains force when it can be converted without loss of distinctness into courteous ex- pression. The edge of the axe does more execution than the head. Take the illustration at the foot of page 264. There would be a certain blunt force in saying : "You never did a good deed in your life, while your crimes are notorious." But how much deeper the accusation sinks when it is put thus : You have done good, my lord, by stealth ; The rest is upon record. The Velvet Glove. — In fact, we are particularly grateful to a speaker whose tact relieves us from an an- ticipated necessity of hearing something disagreeable. We want the presumptuous punished, but we shrink from the altercation that results when he is met with his own weapons. When an antagonist arises, not only bold enough to attack him, but skilful enough to disarm him without giving hitri opportunity to strike back, we put no stint upon our admiration. The iron hand within a velvet glove is the ideal protector of society. Leigh Hunt's sensitive delicacy was one of his most marked characteristics, and one that peculiarly impressed itself on those who enjoyed personal communion with him. He was delicate as a woman in conduct, in words, in ways of thinking. I have heard him use paraphrase in speaking of things that the generality of men are accustomed to mention plainly, as a matter of course ; and though he could — on occasion — use veiy straightforward terms in treating a poetical subject warmly, or in reprobating a vice sternly, and employ very playful terms when treating a hu- morous subject wittily, I never heard him utter a coarse or a light word in the many times I have heard him converse with freedom among intimate friends. Airy elegance, sportive fancy, marked his lively talk ; levity never. But though Leigh Hunt was almost womanly in his scrupulous delicacy, he had not the very least touch, of effeminacy in his composition. He was essentially manly — of that fine type of manliness wliich includes the best 456 POWER. [Pakt IV. gentleness and tenderness of womanly nature, blended with the highest moral fortitude of manhood. We know that the man who created Imogen, Portia, Viola, Rosalind, Hamlet, Romeo, Troilus, Othello, comprised this dual womanly and manly nature in his own ; and we know that Nelson, who knew not what fear was, desired when dying to have a kiss from the lips of his faithful lietrtenant. Hardy. So with Leigh Hunt : he was sensi- tivejis a woman, yet in every fibre— moral, intellectual, and physi- cal — thoroughly a man. — Mabt Oowden Olabkb. Find iUustrations on pages 1], 60. See also pages 29, 39-4.3. (b) Conciseness is riot synonymous with Brevity. Brevit}' I'efers only to the number of words ; conciseness refers to the amount of thought they convey. Brevity implies the use of few words, whatever the thought may be ; conciseness implies tlie use of no unnecessary words, however many may be employed. Brevity may be attained by leaving much unsaid ; conciseness tells it all, but tells it compactly. A concise discourse is like a well-packed trunk, which contains much more than at first sight it appears to do ; a brief discourse may be like a trunk half full; short, because it is scanty. — Whately. A strict and succinct style is that where you can take away nothing without losse, and that losse to be manifest. — Ben JONSON. Brevity is a means, not an end ; it is to be desired when it gives best expression to the thought, and only then. To assume that there is a special virtue in laconism is to imitate the absurdity of Dryden's line. My wound is great, because it is so small ; which Buckingham thus parodied. It would be greater, were it none at all. Conciseness is attained chiefly (i) by Pruning, and (ii) by Compression, chap.xsiii.] pruning. 457 (i.) Pruning is possible in almost all composition to , an extent that will amaze those who have not experiment- ed. Not to speak of words like very (see page 227) that young writers sprinkle through their manuscript as from a pepper-box, phrase after phrase, clause after clause, sen- tence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, will be found superfluous because they repeat, or excrescent be- cause they are not a growth from tlie idea. " The three ends which a statesman ought to propose to himself in the government of a nation," says Coleridge, "are Seonrity to possessors, Facility to acquirers, and Hope to all." Why this last clause ? It is not co-ordinate with the other two, but a result from them. It is not one of three ends, but the single end, to be attained by means of the other two. The Declaration of Independence is a famous document, but it begins with a similar blunder : We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights ; that among these are life, lib- erty, and the pursuit of happiness. Life ? yes ; liberty ? yes ; but the pursuit of happiness ? "Why is it an inalienable right? How can you prevent a man from " pursuing" happiness ? You may help him to attain it, biit how can you help him to "pursue " it ? The fact is, that in nearly half of the instances where three specifications are made, one of them is- either superfluous or ex- crfescent. It is a sort of rhetorical rhythm to which mankind has become accustomed, that three specifications give a sounding ro- tundity to the close of a sentence ; so when only two are involved in the thought a third is tacked on for the sake of completeness. Economy of Attention is the principle upon which the power of conciseness depends. This is a busy age. People are overwhelmed on all sides with things to see and to hear. Any one thing that absorbs attention ab- stracts that attention from a thousand pressing objects, and must prove itself of more immediate importance than 458 POWER. [Past IV. those objects. Hence the idea must be presented with as few wrappings as possible. The busy merchant will not stop to tear open a series of envelopes to get at a circular from an unknown correspondent — envelopes and all will " go into the waste-basket. We are told tliat " bre-vity is the soul of wit." We hear styles condemned as verbose or involved. Blair says that every needless part of a sentence "intermpts the description and clogs the image ; " and again, that " long sentences fatigue the reader's at- tention." It is remarked by Lord Kames that " to give the utmost force to a period, it ought, if possible, to be closed with the word that makes the greatest figure." That parentheses should be avoided, and that Saxon words should be used in preference to those of Latin origin, are established precepts. But, however in- fluential the truths thus dogmatically embodied, they would be much more influential if reduced to something like scientific or- dination. In this, as in other cases, conviction will be greatly strengthened when we understand the why. And we may be sure that a comprehension of the general principle from which the rules of composition result, will not only bring them home to us with greater force, but will discover to us other rules of like origin. On seeking for some clue to the law underlying these current maxims, we may see shadowed forth in many of them the impor- tance of economizing thg reader's or hearer's attention. To so present ideas that they may be apprehended with the least possible mental effort, is the desideratum toward which most of the rules above quoted point. When we condemn writing that is wordy, or confused, or intricate — when we praise this style as easy, and blame that as fatiguing, we consciously or unconsciously assume this de- sideratum as our standard of judgment. Eegarding language as an apparatus of symbols for the conveyance of thought, we may say that, as in a mechanical apparatus, the more simple and the better arranged in its parts, the greater will be the effect produced. In either case, whatever force is absorbed by the machine is deducted from the result. A reader or listener has at each moment but a limited amount of mental pdwer available. To recognize and in- Chap. XXIII.] CONCISENESS. 459 terpret the symbols presented to him requires part of this power ; to arrange and combine the images suggested requires a further part ; and only that part which remains can be used for realizing the thought conveyed. Hence, the more time and attention it takes to receive and understand each sentence, the less time and attention can be given to the contained idea, and the less vividly will that idea be conceived. How truly language must be regarded as a hindrance to thought, though the necessary instrument of it, we shall clearly perceive on remembering the comparative force with which simple ideas are communicated by signs. To say "Leave the room" is less ex- pressive than to point to the door. Placing a finger on the lips is more forcible than whispering "Do not speak." A beck of the hand is better than " Come here." No phrase can convey the idea of surprise so vividly as opening the eyes and raising the eye- brows. A shrug of the shoulders would lose much by translation into words.* Again, it may be remarked that when oral language is employed, the strongest effects are produced by interjections, which condense' entire sentences into syllables. And in other cases, where custom allows us to express thoughts by single words, as in Beware, Heigho, Fudge, much force would be lost by expand- ing them into specific propositions. Hence, carrying out the metaphor that language is the vehicle of thought, there seems reason to think that in all cases the fric- tion and inertia of the vehicle deduct from its efliciency, and that in composition, the chief, if not the sole thing to be done is to re- duce this friction and inertia to the smallest possible amount. — Hekbbbt Spenoeb. The very same sentiment, expressed diffusely, will be admitted barely to be just ; expressed concisely will be admired as spirited. To recur to examples, the famous answer returned by the Countess of Dorset to the letter of Sir Joseph Williamson, Secretary of State to Charles the Second, nominating to her a member for the bor- ough of Appleton, is an excellent illustration : "I have been bul- lied," says her ladyship, "by an usurper, I have been neglected * "It wants that 1 " said Sir Joshua Reynolds of a picture, snapping his fingers. On the tomb of Sardanapalus is inscribed " Pass on, stranger, eat, drink, and amuse thyself, for nought else is worth a fillip," and a picture is givea of fingers making the same sign. 460 POWER. [Part IV. by a court, but I will not be dictated to by a subject. Your man shan't stand." — CAMPBEiiL. Prolixity. — There is an event recorded in the Bible which men who write books should keep constantly in remembrance. It is there set- forth that msmy centuries ago the earth was covered by a gi-eat flood, by which the whole human rate, with the excep- tion of one family, were destroyed. It appears, also, that from thence a great alteration was made in the longevity of mankind, who, from a range of seven or eight hundred years, which they had enjoyed before the flood, were confined to their present period of seventy or eighty years. This epoch in the history of men gave birth to the twofold di- vision of the antediluvian and postdiluvian style of writing, the latter of which natur- ally contracted itself into those inferior limits which were better accommodated to the abridged period of human life and literary labor. Now to forget this event, to write without the fear of the deluge before his eyes, and to han-ile a subject as if mankind could lounge over a pamphlet for ten years, as before their submersion, is to be guilty of the most grievous error into which a writer can pos- siblj fall. The author of this book should call in the aid of some brilliant pencil, and cause the distressing scenes of the deluge to be portrayed in the most lively colors for his use. He should gaze at Noah, and bo brief, - The ark should constantly remind him of the little time there is left for reading ; and he should learn, as they did in the ark, to crowd a great deal of matter into a very small compass.— Sydney SanTH. De Quincey calls the German sentence an arch between the ris- ing and the setting sun, and declares that one ofJKant's sentences was found by a carpenter to be twenty inches long. Louis XIV., who loved a concise style, one day met a priest, whom he asked hastily : "Whence come you? "Whither are you going ? What do you want ? " The priest replied, ''From Bruges. To Paris. A benefice." ''You shall have it," answered the king. (oi.) Compression. — "One must study contraction as well as omission. There are many sentences which would not bear the omission of a single word consistently with perspicuity, which yet may be much more concisely expressed with equal clearness by the employment of dif- ferent words, and by recasting a great part of the ex- pression." Take, for example, such a sentence as the following : A severe and tyrannical exercise of power must become a matter of necessary policy with kings when their subjects are imbued with such principles as justify and authorize rebellion. This sentence could not be advantageously nor to any consider- able degree abridged by the mere omission of any of the words j ■ Chap. XXllI.] CONCISENESS. 461 but it may be expressed in a much shorter compass, with equal clearness and far greater energy, thus : Kings will be tyrants friftn policy when subjects are rebels from principle. — Campbell. Exercise. — Condense the following sentences by a change of form. Example. — They disputed who should be greatest. There arose a dispute among them, who should be greatest. I have a doubt whether the story be true. Generally a discussion arises whether a fee shall be paid. I am going to yonder gate to receive further direction how I may get to the place of deliverance. He gave us a long accoimt how he had hooked the fish. We are indebted to him for the suggestion as to making an abstract. Henry Smith failed, which astonished them. Conversation with you has satisfied me as to the fact. I had often received an invitation from my friend. If we know extensively, we shall operate extensively. Being cultivated mentally is important. The equality of the three angles of a triangle to two right angles is a previous assumption. Of the same nature with the indulgence of domestic affections, and equally refreshing to the spirits, is the pleasure which results from acts of bounty and beneficence, exercised either in getting money or in imparting to those who want it the assistance of our skill and profession. — Quoted by Baust. The Degree of conciseness conducing to power de- pends largely upon the capacity of the class of readers addressed. It is remarked by anatomists that the nutritive quality is not the only requisite in food ; that a certain degree of distention in the stomach, is required to enable it to act with its full powers, and that for this reason hay or straw must be given to horses as well as corn, in order to supply the necessary bulk. Something analogous to this takes place with respect to the generality of minds, which are incapable of thoroughly digesting and assimilat- 462 POWER. [Part IV. ing what is presented to them, however clearly, in a very small compass. Repetition in a condensed form of an idea already expressed at length often produces the effect of concise- ness. To an author who is in his expression of any sentiment waver- ing between the demands of perspicnity and of energy (of which the former, of course, requires the first care, lest he should fail of both) and doubting whether the phrase which has the most of forcible brevity will be readily taken in, it may be recommended to use both expressions : first, to expand the sense sufficiently to be clearly understood, and then to contract it into the most com- pendious and striking form. This expedient might seem at first sight the most decidedly adverse to the brevity recommended; but it will be found in practice that the addition of a compressed and pithy expression of the sentiment which has been already stated at greater length will have the effect of brevity. For it is to be remembered that it is not on account of the actual number of words that diflfuseness is to be condemned (unless one were limited to a certain space or time), but to avoid the flatness and tediousness resulting from it ; so that if tliis appearance can be obviated by the insertion of such an abridged repetition as is here recommended, which adds poignancy and spirit to the whole, con- ciseness will be practically promoted by the addition. — ^Whatblt. In the following sentence Archbishop Whately violates the principle just laid down, putting the compact expression first. Universally, a writer or speaker should endeavor to maintain the appearance of ex- pressing himself, not as if he wanted to say something, but as if he had something to say; £,e,, not as if he had a subject set him, and was anxious to compose the best essay or declamation on it that he could, bub as If he had some ideas to which he was anxious to give utterance ; not as if he wanted to compose (for instance) a sermon, and was de- sirous of performing that task satisfactorily, but as if there was something in his mind which he was desirous of communicating to his hearers. Exception to the rule that conciseness is energy fre- quently occurs in description. (See pages 213, 250.) Edmund Burke, in his speech on the Nabob of Arcot, describes the effects of the war carried on by the East India Company in the Chap. XXlll.] ENEfiaY. 463 Carnatio territory. An unimaginative speaker, seeing things in ■what Bacon calls " dry light," would have said, "The war was a war of extermination ; " this was the whole of it. An indignant and diffusive speaker, boiling over with his wrath, would have said, "The war was murderous, inhuman, devilish." His invective would have spent itself in epithets. But Burke, more forcible than either, compresses his indignation, has not a word to say of the character of the war, but describes the facts, and leaves them to speak for themselves. He says : When the British army traversed, as they did, the Camatic for hundreds of miles in all directions, through the wlrole line of their march they did not see one man, not one woman, not one child, not one four-footed beast of any description whatever. Energy of thought here requires particularity of detail ; there- fore energy of expression requires many words. Sometimes a descriptive speaker needs to gain time for a thought to take hold of an obtuse hearer. Macaulay says of the effects of the French Eevolution, " Down went the old church of France, with all its pomp and wealth." This is forcible fact, forcibly put. But he intensifies it by saying, " The churches were closed ; the bells were silent ; the shrines were plundered ; the silver crucifixes were melted down ; bufi'oons dressed in surplices came dancing in the carmagnole even to the bar of the Conven- tion.'' By these details time is gained for the imagination to realize the main truth that the church was destroyed. Longinus illustrates the two styles here contrasted by the examples of De- mosthenes and Cicero. He says, "Demosthenes was concisely, Cicero diffusely sublime. Demosthenes was a thunderbolt ; Ci- cero was a conflagration." — Phelps. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Power. 1. In thought power depends on : a. Sincerity, p. 448. b. Directness, p. 449. 3. In expression power depends on : a. Plainness, p. 450. Bluntness, p. 451. Coarseness, p. 452. Distinction between Wnntness and coarseness, 454. The velvet glove, p. 455. b. Conciseness, p. 456. i. Pruning, p. 457. Economy of attention, p. 457. ii. Compression, p. 460. Degree of conciseness, p. 461. Eepetition, p. 463. Exceptions, p. 463. CHAPTEE XXIY. PERFECTION. Perfection (usually referred to as Elegance, Grace, Beauty) is the artistic finish put upon composition already elaborated. The essay being true, precise, perspicuous, powerful, the careful writer goes over it line by line, changing here a word, there an expression, until each word not only expresses his meaning but expresses it more happily than any other word could. The safest rule is never during the act of composition to study elegance or think about it at all. Let an author study the best models, mark their beauties of style and dwell upon them, that he may insensibly catch the habit of expressing himself with ele- gance ; and when he has completed any composition he may re- vise it, and cautiously alter any expression that is awkward and harsh, as well as those that are feeble and obscui'e ; but let him never while writing think of any beauties of style, but content himself with such as may occur spontaneously. He should care- fully study perspicuity as he goes along ; he may also, though more cautiously, aim in like manner at energy ; but if he is en- deavoring after elegance, he will hardly fail to betray that en- deavor ; and in proportion as he does this, he will be so far from giving pleasure to good judges, that he will offend more than by the rudest simplicity. — Whatelt. A man should so deliver himself to the nature of the subject whereof he speaks, that his hearer may take knowledge of his discipline with some delight : and so apparel fair and good matter that the studious of elegancy be not defrauded ; redeem arts from their rough and braky seats, where they lay hid and overgrown with thorns, to a pure, open, and flowery light, where they may take the eye, and be taken by the hand. — Bek JOKSON. PERFECTION. [Part IV. A Change of Taste. — Blair's "Ehetoric," founded upon the style of Addison as an ideal, treats of Beauty as characterizing writing of a certain kind. The author says : I am, indeed, inclined to think, that regularity appears beautiful to ub chiefly, if not only on account o£ its suggesting the ideas of fitness, propriety and use, which have always a greater connection wiih orderly and proportioned forms, than with those which appear not constructed according to any certain rule. . . . There is, however, an- other sense, somewhat more definite, in which beauty of writing char.icterizes a particu- lar manner ; when it is used to signify a certain grace and amenity in the turn, either of style or sentiment, for which some authors have been particularly distinguished. In this sense, it denotes a manner neither remarkably sublime, nor vehemently passionate, nor uncommonly sparkling ; but such as raises in the reader an emotion of the gentle placid kind, similar to what is raised by the contemplation of beautiful ohjectain nature ; which neither lifts the mind very high, nor agitates it very much, but diffuses over the imagina- tion an agreeable and pleasing serenity. Mr. Addison is a writer altogether of this char- acter, and is one of the most proper and precise examples that can be given of it. Of the latter of these, the highest, most correct and ornamented degree of the simple manner, Mr. Addison is, beyond doubt, in the English language, the most pt-rlect exam- ple; and therefore, though not without some faults, he is, on the whole, the safest model for imitation, and the freest from considerable defects which the language affords. Per- spicuous and pure he is in the highest degree ; his precision indeed not very great, yet nearly as great as the subjects which he treats of require ; the construction of his sen- tences easy, agreeable and commonly very musical ; carrying a character of smoothness, more than of strength. ... If he fails in anything, it is in want of strength and precision, which renders his manner, though perfectly suited to such essays as he writes in the Spectator, not altogether a perfect model for any of the higher and more elaborate kinds of composition. From this search afber beauty as an end there has been a marked reaction. It is no longer the languid, complacent style of Queen Anne's reign that is sought as a model, but the racy, vigorous utterance of the Elizabethan writers. The English mind, and, as an ofEshoot of it, the American mind as well, are not par- tial to the elegant qualities, specially in public oral addresses. We are jealous for our strength. We are proud of our Saxon stock. We are, therefore, morbidly afraid of im- posing on ourselves by elegant literary forms. We are in this respect what our language is, hardy, rough, careless of ease. The languages and temperaments of Southern Europe are in this respect our opposites. Werhave cultivated learning at the expense of taste ; they, taste at the expense of learning. This prejudice, moreover, is often aggravated by affectations of the beautiful in liter- ary expression. Affectations create caricatures of beauty ; these repel taste, as they repel good sense. That cast of character which leads a young man to wea.r long hair, and to part it in the middle, often appears in literature in a straining after the feminine qualities of style when no beauty of thought underlies and demands them. This nau- seates short-hau'ed men, and lends reason to their prejudice against the genuine because of the counterfeit elegance. The cant of literature, like thfit of religion, is never more disgusting than when it takes the form of the exquisite. Morbid delicacy rasps manly nerves.— Phelps. '-■" •'->-■ '■• Chap. XXrv.] EPIGRAMS. 467 Such men, to be sure, have existed as Julius Caesar ; but in gen- eral a correct and elegant style is hardly attainable by those who have passed their lives in action ; and no one has such a pedantic love of good writing as to prefer mendacious finery to rough and imgrammatical truth. — Sidney Smith. Epigrams are short poems ending in a point or turn of wit ; as, An epigram is like a bee — a thing Of little size, with honey, and a sting. — Martial. Retort should perhaps be classed with the forms just referred to, as its effect depends upon the turn it gives to the words of the first speaker. Thus : A French officer reproached a Swiss for fighting upon either side for money, "while we Frenchmen," said he, "fight for honor." " That is natural," replied the Swiss ; " every one fights for what he most wants.'' One day Sheridan met two royal dukes in St. James's Street, and the younger flippantly remarked : " I say, Sherry, we have just been discussing whether you are a greater fool or rogue : what is your opinion, old boy ? " — Sheridan bowed, smiled, and as he took each of them by the arm replied, " Why, faith, I believe I am between both." — Works. When Henry IV. was at Amiens, and very much fatigued, the mayor, with his council, came to pay their respects to him. The mayor began his harangue in this way : " King forever blessed — very puissant, very clement, very great — " Then the King cut him short by saying, " And very tired," and so ended the mayor's fine speech. A lawyer, fined for expressing contempt of Court, protested, urging with great earnestness that on the contrary he had care- fully concealed his feelings. Brilliancy is perhaps the proper term to apply to language which puts the thought in such clear light, that the light itself attracts attention. To be memorable, style must possess something of this distinction. 468 PERFECTION. IPabt IV. Dr. Johnsoii's fame now rests principally upon Boswell. It is impossible not to Ise amused with such a book. But his bow-wow manner must have had a good deal to do with the effect produced ; for no one, I suppose, will set Johnson before Burke, and Burke was a great and universal talker ; yet now we hear nothing of this except by some chance remarks in Boswell. The fact is, Burke, like air men of genius who love to talk at all, was very discursive and continuous ; hence he is not reported ; he seldom said the sharp short things that Johnson almost always did, which pro- duce a more decided effect at the moment, and which are so much more easy to carry off. — OoiiEBrDGE. _ , _ I think Steele shone rather than sparkled. Those famous beaiix-esprits of the coSee-h.ov.ses . . . would make many brilliant hits — half a dozen in a night- sometimes ; biit, lilce sharp-shooters, when they had fired their_shot they were obliged to retire under cover till their pieces were loaded again, and wait tUl they got an- other chance at the enemy ; whereas Dick never thought that his bottle-companion was a butt to aim at — nay, a friend to shake by the hand. — THAOKERiY. But brilliancy is legitimate only wlien it is the result of polish, of fine finish, of artistic completeness of utterance. We have no respect for the ideas of men that seek to say bright things for the sake of display. We look upon them, as upon professional wits (see page 129), as per- formers rather than as companions, dealing with words rather than with thoughts, fit to amuse us in idle mood, but not to be consulted when we are in doubt. When Euskin says that he could not, even for a couple of months, live in a country so miserable as to possess no castles, his aim is to be epigrammatic, but he only makes us impatient of his morbid affectation. When Professor Clifford leaves for an in- scription on his tomb, "I was not, and was conceived; I lived and did a little work ; I am not, and grieve not," the Spectator justly remarks that though many will think the epitaph fine, it would be finer if it were inscribed above a horse. Coleridge has made some of the most exact distinctions known in literature, Chap. XXIV.] EUPHONY. 469 but in the following he seems to have sought striking form rather than precise expression : Let a young man separate I from Me as far as he possibly can, and remove Me till it is almost lost in the remote distance. " I am Me," is as bad a fault in intellectuals and morals as it is in grammar, while none but one— God — can say, " I am I," or " That I Am." — Worka, vi. 495, Euphony is another element of literary perfection. Words have their aristocracy. Some have a noble birth ; a magnificent history lies behind them ; they were born amid the swelling and the bursting into life of great ideas. On the con- trary, there are words which have plebeian associations. Some are difficult of enunciation ; and, by a secret sympathy, the mind at- taches to them the distortion, perhaps the pain, of the vocal or- gans in their utterance. A single uncouth word may be to style what an uncontrollable grimace is to the countenance. Neither is a thing of beauty. Words not inelegant in themselves become so through pedestrian associations which colloquial usage affixes to them. Our Yankee favorite "guess" is a perfectly good word, pure English, of good stock, and long standing in the language. A better word, in itself considered, we have not in English use. But because it is a colloquial favorite, used by everybody, on every variety of subject and occasion, and often in a degraded sense, as in the compound " guess-work," it has become vulgar in the sense of ' ' common ; " so that in niany connections in which the real meaning of it would be entirely pertinent, the word would be unelegant. "Conjecture," or some equivalent, must take its place. . . . Wordsworth's poetry, again, is not wholly de- fensible from the charge of using in poetic measure an inelegant vocabulary. He believed in the poetry of common things, com- mon thoughts, common people-, and their common affairs. It was the aim of his life to lift up into the atmosphere of romance things lowly and obscure. "The Excursion" wrought in this respect one of the silent revolutions of literature in the direct interest of Christianity. But, in his attempt to effect that revolution, he did lean to an extreme. Even his regal imagination could not dig- pify such lines as these ; viz. : — A household tub, like one of those Which women use to wash their clothes. — Fhelps. 470 PERFECTION. [Part IV. Notions of euphony are not the same all the world over. I once asked a pundit, a professor of poetry, what he considered to be the most melodious word in Sanscrit. His reply was, slakshna. And he was not jesting. — Hail. A practice almost indispensable to a satisfactory essay is to take it up,^ after revision according to every other standard lias been completed, and read it aloud, noting for correction not only all harsh expressions, but all that the combination of sounds makes it difficult to enunciate. In Lincoln's first inaugural occurs the following phrase, the peculiar combination of consonants and labials of which can only be appreciated by an attempt (we use the word attempt advisedly) to read it aloud : "Will you hazard so desperate a step, while any portion of the ills you fly from have no real existence ? Will you, while the certain ills you fly to are greater than all the real ones you fly from ? " — Magazine of American History. Variety is, finally, one of the most essential elements of perfection. In diction an extensive and daily vi^idening vocab- ulary is indispensable (see pages 401-403). I have long been in the habit of reading daily some first-class English authoi", chiefly for the copia verborum, to avoid sinking into cheap and bald fluency, to give elevation, dignity, sonorous- ness, and refinement to my vocabulary. — Ohoate. It is a mark of weakness, of poverty of speech, or at least of bad taste, to continue the use of pet words,* or other peculiarities of language, after we have become conscious of them as such. In dialect, as in dress, individuality founded upon anything but gen- eral harmony and superior propriety, is offensive, and good taste demands that each shall please by its total impression, not by its distinguishable details. — Maesh. * It is to be remarked that this very expression, " pet words," is a pet term of Mr. ,^arsh, occ^^^g again and again in his "Lectures on the English Language." Chap. XXIV.] VARIETY. 471 Many of Mr. Carlyle'e peculiarities of style as a writer are to be avoided rather than imitated, but at the same time a writer whose pages present so strong a front as do his is worthy of analytical study. What gives to Mr. Carlyle's sentences that vigor and fresh- ness so manifest to every one ? A partial explanation is to be found in the richness of his vocabulary. Probably no man living in this age was so thoroughly acquainted with the English, dictionary as Mr. Carlyle, or used words more discriminatingly without marring his work with the appearance of labored construction. Take up any book of his and notice how seldom he has repeated even the smallest words in any given passage or paragraph. Xou rarely find more than one "and " in his longest sentences. Whole pages may be traversed without discovering u single "the," '"to," or "but." Take up any of his writings, block out a section of one hundred words, and then count the distinct words that occur in it, counting each word only once. Here are a few results of such a test. In ' ' Sartor Resartus " to one hundred words in the text 84 individual words ; in the essay on " Mirabean," 82 ; in the essay on " Goethe," 76 ; in the essay on " Burns," 73 ; in the "French Revolution," 90; in the "Reminiscences," 81; in the short essay on the " Death of Goethe," 87. This last section commences with the second paragraph of the essay, and contains few words of more than one syllable. These test selections have all been made at random, our only care being to avoid passages containing several proper names and those disagreeable home-made adjectives of which Mr. Carlyle was so fond, words generally ending in " ish." They seem to the reader to have been brewed in that old teapot of his. Of course a writer could put together intelligible sentences by the yard without duplicating his words, but what man or woman does without cfEort, and effort painfully apparent, ever achieve this phenomenal result? Probably Mr. Carlyle strove to keep the percentage of new words in every page as high as possible. There is reason for believing that his best productions — those that pour gurgling from the author's heart — have been measured, weighed, every drop examined in his penetrating mental microscope, before it went forth to mingle in the flood. His work was slow, tiring, and he came to the conclusion late in life that so much pains cost too much. Still Mr. Carlyle''s fame as a literary artist must have fallen short if he had been less careful in his strokes. — iV. C. Advocate. In movement there raust be a like variety. Long sentences must be interspersed with shorter ones, periodic structure must be followed by sharp, crisp utterance ; the reader must be kept constantly on the alert for something unexpected, never being suffered to adjust himself to a sing-song gait of which he has caught the rhythm. "It is here,'' says Marmontel, "that we perceive the force of Lucian's comparison when he desired that the style and the thought, like a horseman and his horse, might be of one will, and move together harmoniously.'' And, as the same author adds, this oratorical motion is free and various ; the bold and skilful horse- man, whose steed is well-trained, and obedient to the whip and spur, may sometimes venture to leap the highest fences and clear 472 PERFECTION. [Pakt IV. the widest ditclies, but when the chase is over he wiU slacken his pace, and be content to walk slowly along the well-beaten bridle- path. — Hebvey. In La Fontaine, so many verses, so many different styles of thought. But once Mas- sillon hits on a. certain kind of a sentence, he holds on to it with a death-like grip, page after page. Like a horse-car unable to leave its tramway, like a canal-boat which cannot quit its canal, on he goes, without turning an inch to the right or left, and on you go with him. What is the consequence ? A monotony that at last palls on the ear and actually stops the reader. Besides, even the splendid profusion of words is not without its uni- formity. His incomparable talent of setting forth a single thought under such a variety of shapes had for a long time astounded me, dazzled me. I used to take for a new idea what was nothing but the same idea presented again and again under various difiereut forms. But reading aloud soon convinced me that there was something artificial in this exuberant display. I began to feel as you feel at one of those pieces where the same actor pretends to represent five or six different personages, whereas in reality the only thing changed is the costume. Take a page of Saint-Simon, if you wish to realize more fnlly the idea that I wish to convey. He too repeats the same idea under twenty different shapes, but he does so as a clever magician turns one object into fifty by the blazing reflection of dazzling mirrors; he does so with the fire and heat of a man who, under the influence of a burning impres- sion; always considers his expressions too feeble to adequately represent his ideas. He fights and struggles with his words to compel them to express what he means. He whips his language, spurs it, tortures it, drives it, overloads it, until at last it obeys him, and becomes just as passionate, fiery, and headlong as himself. — Legouvb. Felicity of diction is more than exactness and clear- ness. It expresses the idea so perfectly that the mind lingers for an instant to enjoy the perfection itself. Take, for instance, the two famous epitaphs by the poet whose own epitaph, *' O rare Ben Jonson," is itself a remarkable illnstra-. tion of felicity (note quotations from the first on page 222). ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE. Underneath this sable hearse, Lies the subject of all verse. Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother ; Death 1 ere thou hast slain another Learned and fair, and good as she, Time shall throw his dart at thee. ' Marble piles let no man raise To her name in after days; Some land woman, born as she, Reading this, like Niobe Shall turn marble, and become Both her mourner and her tomb. Chap. XXIV.] FELICITY. 473 ON MAEGAEET EATCLIPFE. M arble weep, for thou dost cover A dead beauty underneath thee E Ich as nature could bequeath thee : G rant then no rude hand remove her. A 11 the gazers in the skies, E ead not in fair heaven^s story E xpresser truth or truer glory T han they might in her bright eyes. E are as wonder was her wit, A nd like nectar ever flowing ; T ill time, stung by her bestowing, C onquered hath both life and it ; L ife, whose grief was out of fashion I n these times. Few bo have rued F ate in a brother. To conclude, F or wit, featiu:e, and true passion, E arth, thou bast not such another. In the history of the world what has really preserved the mem- ories of writers of verse has not been intellectual force, or the cley; expression of love or pity, or even wit, but a certain indefin- able felicity of style, a power of saying things as they never were said before, and so that they can never be forgotten. ... It is probable that this will preserve his [Poe's] verse, like a rose petal in a drop of glycerine, bound to decay because of its ephem- eral and disconnected condition, yet never actually decaying. — Pall Mall Gazette. Every one is familiar, and has been amused, with Macaulay's characteristic assertion that "the Puritan hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but- because it gave pleasure to the spectators." Few readers, however, are probably aware that Hume expresses identically the same idea. " Bear-baiting," he says, "was esteemed heathenish and unchristian; the sport, not the' inhumanity, gave offence." Inasmuch as Macaulay's mot is known the world over and Hume's scarcely at all, we have an evi- dence how important is the way of putting things — more impor- tant, it seems, so far as notoriety is concerned, than the idea itself. — Appleton's Journal. By cleverness I mean a comparative readiness in the invention and use of means for the realizing of objects and ideas — often of such ideas which the man of genius only could have originated, and which the clever man perhaps neither fully comprehends nor ade- quately appreciates, even at the moment that he is prompting or executing the machinery 474 PERFECTION. [Part IV. of their accomplishment. In short, cleverness is a sort of genius for instrumentality. It is the brain in the hand. In literature cleverness is more frequently accompanied by wit, genius and sense by humor. — Colebidge, The fitting word is always a prominent element of felicity. Who that has ever heard it can forget the line, Her voice was ever soft, gentle, and low ? Substitute synonyms, as, Her tone was always mild, tranquil, subdued, and what is there to linger in the memory ? As the result of all my reading and meditation, I abstracted two critical aphorisms, deeming them to comprise the conditions and a-iteria of poetic style : first, that not the poem which we have read, but that to which we return with the greatest pleasure, possesses the genuine power and claims the name of essential poetry ; secondly, that whatever lines can be translated into qjher words of the same language without diminution of their signifi- cance, either in sense or association, or in any worthy feeling, are so far vicious in their diction. — Oolbbidge. Onomatopoeia, or a correspondence between the thing signified and the sound of the word employed, is often an element of fitness. In the line from " Lear," just quoted, the word " soft " sounds like what it signifies, appealing to the ear as well as to the eye, and thus enter- ing the mind by, two avenues of sense. Compare : , Him there they found Squat like a toad close at the ear of Eve. — Milton. ' Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw. — Id. . ^ Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air, , Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings, — Id. / Her voice is but the shadow of a sound. — TotnSG. Up the high hill he heaves a huge roimd stone ; The huge round stone returning with a bound Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground. — PoPB. Chap. XXIV.] ONOMATOPCBIA. 475 These equal syllables alone require Tho' oft the ear the open vowels tire, While expletives their feeble aid do join And ten low words oft creep in one dull line. — Id, Soft is the sbrain when zephyr gently blows, « And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar. — Id. What 1 like Sir Richard, rumbling, rough, and fierce, With arms, and George and Brunswick crowd the verse, Rend with tremendous sound your ears asunder, With gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss and thunder ? Then all your muse's softer art display. Let Carolina smooth the tuneful lay, Lull with Amelia's liquid name the Nine, * And sweetly flow through all the royal line. — Id. The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree ; The whitd lake-blossom fell into the lake While the pimpernel dozed on the lea. — Tennyson. Here the plot is blanched By God's gift of a purity of soul That will not take pollution, ermine-like Armed from dishonor by its own soft snow. — Browning. Pastiness and flatness are the qualities of a pancake, and thus far he attaioed his aim : but if he means it for me, let him place the accessories on the table lest what is insipid and clammy . . . grow into duller accretion and moister viscidity the more I masti- cate it. — Landor, of Wm-dsworth. There is a familiar class of words called imitative, or, to use a hard term, onomatopoetic, where there is an evident connection be- tween the sound and the sense. These are all, or nearly all, words descriptive of particular sounds, or acts accompanied by charac- teristic sounds, such as buzz, crash, gurgle, gargle, hum, whiz, jar, bellow, roar, whistle, whine, creak, cluck, gabble,* and in con- versation we often allow ourselves to use words of this class, not to be found in the largest dictionaries. The remark of a contempor- ary of Dr. Johnson's, that much of the effect of his conversation was owing to his ^^ bow-wow yf^y" will be remembered by every one. A gi'eat modern English poet, following the authority of * Compare hiss, bang, helter-skelter, namby-pamby, hoity-toity, roly-poly, hanua- scarum, willy-nilly, noleps-volens. hugger-mugger, 476 PERFECTION. [Past IV. Sidney, has even introduced into verse a word borrowed from the voice of the sheep, when speaking of certain censui'able follies he calls them " baaing vanities." — Mabsh. Besides these properties in words, of sweetness or harshness, strength or weakness,, there is another quality to be attended to, which is.expression, or the peculiar aptness of some words to stand as symbols of certain ideas preferably to others. And this aptness arises from different causes ; the first and most striking is that of imitation, from which proceed those that may be called mimical sounds, such as the baa of the sheep, the hiss of serpents, the mew and purr of cats, the howl of the wolf, the bray of an ass, the whinny of a horse, the caw of the raven. . . . Such words con- tain a power of expression from a natural resemblance which can never belong to signs merely instituted. After these mimical words, whose whole sounds are nearly the same with those formed by the several animals from which they were taken, there is another class which bears a fainter resemblance, merely from some letters contained in them, which were borrowed from the animal world. Thus among the vowels a was borrowed from the crow, a from the goat, a from the sheep, oo from the dove, o from the ox, ow from the dog, etc. Of the consonants, we borrowed the h from the sheep, k from the crow, m from the ox, r from the dog, s from the serpent, th from the goose. We have also sounds resembling those ^tnade by inanimate objects. Thus / is like the sound of winds blowing through certain chinks. V is the noise made by some spinning-wheels when rapidly moved. 8h is the sound made by squibs and rockets previous to explosion. 8 by the flight of darts. Ng by a bell. — Sheridan. Care must be taken to employ onomatopoeia only as a means to more perfect expression ; if used for its own sake, it meets the common fate of all affectation. Especially must the misuse of words of this character be avoided. Poe, who uses onomatopoeia with great effect, tells most happily of — ^the tintinnabulation that so musically swells From tlie bells, bells, bells, bells ; but when Dickens in " Dombey and Son " speaks of " the Chap. XXIV.] TArTOPHONY. ' 4:T7 tintinnabulation of the gong " we stare at the page with wonder that his taste could have permitted the use of a figure so incongruous. Tautophony, or the repetition of the same sound, is i usually a defect in composition, but is sometimes employed f - witli happy effect to produce a peculiar emphasis. Thus Epictetus says that all philosophy lies in two words, siis- tain and abstain. The resemblance of the two words makes it easier to remember their distinction. Shedd is fond of this figure, as, for instance : Essential truth is the element, and the alitnent, of a rational mind, and nothing short of this form of truth can long satisfy its wants, [The use of " short " and '* long " is here questionable.] But such usage is permitted only when the contrast between the two words is marked and obvious. On page 87 of this book will be found two instances; "omitting — admitting," and "in- stinctive—distinctive." For the first pair there is a reason, but the second pair is due to a slip of the pen that oversight did not cor- rect. This U sage ^^ly slides into punning (seepages 117- 122), which to a certain extent is permissible when plainly a means to the forcible expression of an idea. " Truth is mighty," announces one stump-speaker, impressively. "Yes, it is mighty," retorts his opponent, sarcastically, " mighty scarce." There is always a certain satisfaction in seeing the person attacking beaten by his own weapons, and this occurs when his words are so dexterously turned as to tell against him. "You ^% nothing but a demagogue," said a tipsy fellow to Tom Marshall, who promptly replied : " Put a wisp of straw around you, and you will be nothing but a demijohn." What is mind ? No matter. What is matter ? Never mind. / " We must all hang together," urged Hancock, after the signing >> 478 PERFECTION. [Part tV. of the Declaration of Independence ; "Yes," added Franklin, " or we shall all hang separately." A London paper says that " Mrs. Alma Tadema wore at a recent reception a dress of gold brocade, made with a cuirass bodice, with shoulder-straps of gold guipure, and a plain petticoat of gold color, trimmed with a deep gold ruche, the inside of, which was lined with gray-green satin." The Chicago Tribune understands that Mr. Alma Tadema wore a look of fixed melancholy. Here thou, great Anna, whom three worlds obey, Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea. — Pope. The pun must be appropriate to the occasion, and its purpose manifest, or it will seem an oversight ; as when Max Miiller declares, that " Sound etymology has noth- ing to do with sound." Compare the use of the same words on page 66. The use of the same word successively as two different parts of speech is usually to be avoided ; yet under this principle it is sometimes effective, as in the following sentence, where "more" is used first as an adjective and then as an adverb. That he should be in earnest it is hard to conceive ; since any reasons of doubt which he might have in this case would have been reasons of doubt in the case of other men, who may give more but cannot give more evident signs of thought than their fellow-creatures. — Bolingbrokb. Care must of course be taken not to be misled by the resemblance of sound. " I never get over a first feeling of repulsion," says a young writer ; " if I am once re- pulsed." But what he means is, " if I am once repelled." " I wish to be a friend to the friendless," said agusha^speaker at a benevolent meeting, "a father to the fatherless, and widow to the widowless." " Oh, I don't object to standing on a platform and allowing in- formation to ooze out of me — to use Mark Twain's simile — like ottar of roses out of the otter ! " Chap. XXIV.] ALLITERATION. 479 Alliteration, or the use of successiye words begin- ning with the same letter, is a form of tautophony, and is often employed with happy effect, especially in poetry. So far has this figure been carried that long poems and stories have been written, in which every word began with the same consonant. CACOPHONOTIS COUPLET ON CARDINAl WOLSBY. Begot by butchers, but by bishops bred, How high his honor holds his haughty head. Mrs. Crawford says she wrote one line in her " Kathleen Ma- vourneen " on purpose to confound the Cockney warblers, who would sing it, The 'orn of the 'unfcer is 'eard on the 'HI. So Moore- Or: A. 'eart that Ib 'umble might 'ope for it 'ere. Ha helepbant heasily heats hat his hease Hunder humbrageous humbrella trees I Whole poems have been written wherein every word begins with the same letter. Of these the best known is the " Pugna Porcorum," containing about three hundred lines, every one of which begins with the letter P. . . . The poem "De Laude Calvorum " is perhaps the most curious literary performance in the world. This poem of one hundred and forty lines, every word of which begins with a C, was composed in honor of Charles the Bald, by Hugbaldi or Hugbald, a monk who flourished about the year 876. Perhaps the best English alliterative verse is the following : ' An Austrian army, awfully arrayed, Boldly by battery besiege Belgrade ; Cossack commanders cannonading come, Dealing Destruction's devastating doom ; f^y endeavor engineers essay, r fame, for fortune fighting — furious fray. Generals 'gainst generals grapple ; gracious God, How honors Heaven heroic hardihood ! Infuriate, indiscriminate in ill. Kinsmen kill kinsmen, kindred kinsmen kill. Labor low levels loftiest, longest lines ; Men march 'mid mounds, 'mid moles, 'mid murderous mines ; 480 PERFECTION. [PART IV. Now noisy noxious numbers notice naught Of outward obstacles opposing ought ; Poor patriots, partly purchased, partly pressed, Quite quaking, quickly " Quarter ! Quarter 1 " quest. Reason returns, religious right redounds. Sorrow soon stops such sanguinary sounds. Truce to thee, Turkey, triumph to thy twain, Unjust, unw^e, unmerciful Ukraine I Vanish vain victory I vanish victory vain I Why with we warfare ? Wherefore welcome were Xerxes, Ximenes, Xanthus, Xavier? Yield, yield, ye youth ; ye yeomen, yield your yell, Zeno's. Zarpate's, Zoroaster's zeal, Attracting all, arms against arms appal I Witli like waste of labor the lApogrammatists excluded some particular letter from their compositions, while the Pangramma- tisis crowd a]l the letters of the alphabet into each of their sen- tences. Both these attempts are shown in the following stanza written with ease without e's. A jovial swain may rack his brain, And tax his fancy's might. To quiz in vain, for 'tis most plain. That what I say is right. Lord Holland, in 1824, wrote a story, called "Eve's Legend," that contained no other vowel except e. The Act'osiic is a poem in which the first letters of the succes- sive lines spell a word that is the subject of the whole. The actress Eachel received the most delicate compliment the acrostic has ever paid. A diadem set with precious stones was given to her, so arranged that the initials of the names of the successive stones were in their order the initials of six of her principal parts, and in their order formed her name, thus : R uby, R oxana. A methyst, A meniade. C ornelian, C amille. H ematite, H ermione. E merald, E milie.^^^ L.apis Lazuli, L aodice^W In No. 60 of the Spectator , Addison says of the Chronogram : This kind of wit appears very often on modern medals, especially those of Grermany, when they represent, in the inscription, the year in which they were coined. Thus we see on a medal of Q-ustavus Adolphus the following words : ChrlstVs DuX ergo trlVMphVs. Chap. XXIV.] ANAGRAMS. 481 If you take the pains to pick the figures out of the several words, and range them in their proper order, you will find that they amount to MDCXVVVII., or 1()27, the year in which the medal was stamped ; for, as some of the letters distinguish themselves from the rest, and overtop their fellows, they are to be considered in a double capacity, both as letters and as figures. Tour laborious German wits will turn over a whole dictionary for one of these ingenious devices. A man would think they were searching after au apt classical term ; but, instead, they are looking out a word that has an M, an L, or a D in it. When, therefore, we meet with any of these inscriptions, we are not so much to look in them for the thought, as for the year of the Lord. The Anagram hides the word signified by transposing the let- ters so as to form a new word. Oamden gravely announced that the following anagram showed the "undoubted rightful claim to the monarchy of Britain, as successor of the valorous King Arthur," of the prince whose name was transposed : Charles James Stuart — Claims Arthur's seat. Here is another : James Stuart — A just master. Lady Eleanor Davies, wife of the poet Sir John Davies, was the Cassandra of her day ; and as her prophecies, in the troubled times of Charles n., were usually against the Government, she was at one time brought into the High Court of Commission. She was not a little mad, and fancied the spirit of Daniel was in her, from an anagram she had formed of her own name : Eleanor Davies — Reveal, Daniel ! This anagram had too much by an i, and too little by an s, but such trifles as these were no check to her aspirations. The court attempted to expel the spirit from the lady ; and the bishops arg-ued the point with her out of Holy Writ ; but to no piirpose. She returned text for text, until one of the deans of the Arches, says Heylin, " shot her through and through with an arrow bor- rowed from her own quiver.'' Taking up a pen, he wrote : Dame Eleanor Davies — Never so mad a ladie I This happy fancy set the solemn court to laughing, and drove Cassandra to the utmost dejection of spirits. Foiled by her 6wn weapon, her energy forsook her ; and either she never afterward ventured to enrol herself among the order, or the anagram dis- armed her utterances, for we hear no more of her among the prophets. 482 PERFECTION. [Past IV. In Rhqphalia Verses a monosyllable is followed by a dissyllablej a thsyllablBj and so on to the end of the line. The Palindrome Xe&ds the same either backward or forward ; like this, ascribed to Napoleon : Able was I ere I saw Elba ; or this, quite as plausibly reported as the first speech of the first man : Madam, I'm Adam. EquwocalVei'se reads one way across both of two columns, and quite another when each column is taken separately. Thus : THE HOUSES OP STUART AND HAI^GVER. I love with all my heart The Tory party here The Hanoverian part Moat hateful doth appear ; And for that settlement I ever have denied My conscience gives consent, To be on James's side, Most righteous is the cause To fight for such a king To fight for George's laws, Will England's ruin bring. It is my mind and heart In this opinion, I Though none will take my part, Resolve to live and die. Serpentine Letters in like manner convey one meaning when read down each page, but a contrary when read across both pages. The swindling contract on page 201 is an illustration. Cento Verse is made up by patching together lines from stand- ard poems. Thus : The heath this mght must be my bed,— Scott. Te vales, ye streams, ye groves, adieu ! — Pope. Parewell for aye, e'en love is dead, — Peoctee. Would I could add, remembrance too ! — Bsbon. In Concatenation, or chain-writing, the last word or phrase in each line is taken for the beginning of the next. Thus : TRUTH. Nerve thy soul with doctrines noble, Noble in the walks of time, Time that leads to an eternal. An eternal life sublime ; Life sublime in moral beauty, Beauty that shall ever be ; Ever be to lure thee onward, Onward to the fountain free ; Free to every earnest seeker, Seeker for the Eount of Youth, Touth exultant in its beauty. Beauty of the living truth. Chap. XXIV.] FORM. 483 Echo Verses have been famous in every tongue. Thus : Echo, myBterious nymph, declare Of what you're made, and what you are. Echo — Air I Ben Jonson speaks of "A pair of scissors and a comb in verse,'' and the Spectator ridicules the fantastically shaped poems, axes, eggs, altars, etc., of which a Greek poet, Theodorio, is said to have been the inventor. One of the best is the following : THE WINE-GLASS. Who hath woe ? Who hath sorrow ? Who hath contentions? Who hath wounds without cause ? Who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine. They that go to seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its color in the CUP; when it moveth itself aright. At the last it hiteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. Further illustrations of this misapplied ingenuity in the constrnction of verse will be found in Morgan's " Maca- ronic Poetry," from which most that has been said on the subject has been taken. We have treated the subject thus fully in order to impress the principle that the moment form is studied for itself, and not for what it expresses, the exercise is no longer literary composition. We have used the word Perfection in preference to Beauty in speak- ing of this quality of style, because the only legitimate beauty of written language is the perfection with which it expresses the idea. Forget the idea, study beauty for the sake of beauty, permit the insertion or the retention of an 484 PERFECTION. [Part IV. unnecessary sentence for the sake of its euphony, and the . composition is degraded from the expression of thought into something akin to riddle-making. The principal advantage of an acquaintance with form-peculiarities is readiness in discerning and discarding them when they accidentally appear. More than once has a newspaper been misled into publishing a libellous Acros- tic, because the editor did not glance down the first letters of the lines when he read the little poem handed in ; and luindreds of farmers would have escaped a swindle had they applied the principle of Serpentine Letters to the contract shown on page 201. Commonest of all the errors under this head, however, is Tautophony. Only the most experienced writers can afford to let an essay appear before they have glanced through it to see that the same sound is not unintentionally repeated in a way to catch the ear unpleasantly. Thus : Scene at Oontinental kursaal : English party at card table — "Hello, we are two to two.'' English party at opposite table — " We are two to two, too.'' German spectator, who "speaks Eng- lish," to companion who is acq[iiiring the language — "Veil, now you see how dis is. Off you want to gife expression to yourself in English all you have to do is to blay mit der French horn ! " — JV. r. Sun. The fact is, the rules of emphasis come in in tjiterruption of your supposed general law of position. — Aifobd. I used the word in an unusual sense, but at the same time one fully sanctioned by usage. — Id. Mai/be I may be able to come before the year is out. — Chables Lamb, Find other illustrations on pages 76, 125', 235. Exercise. — "Vary the expression so as to escape tautoph- ony in the following sentences : In a calm moonlight night the sea is a most beautiful object to Chap. XXIV.] TAUTOPHONT. 485 see. The abilities as well as the virtues of King Alfred justly en- titled him to the title of the Great. To oppose this formidable ia- vasion, the Royalists were divided into four divisions. Napoleon's ambition led him to aspire to universal dominion, the pursuit of which finally led to his complete overthrow. The m-itings of Bu- chanan are written with strength, perspicuity, and neatness. The same character has characterized their descendants in modem times. The few who regarded them in their true light were regarded as mere dreamers. It is not the least of the many attractions that per- manently attract strangers to the French capital. This renowned fortress was of the very highest irnportance from its strength and important situation. Wellington was anxious to be relieved from all anxiety in that quarter. The designs of Providence extend to the extension and dispersion of the species. Seduced by these flat- tering appearances, the monarch appears for a time to have trusted to the pleasing hope that his difficulties were at an end. Avoidance of taiitophony, especially of the repetition of the same woi'd, may, however, be carried so far as to obscure the sense (see page 411). Thus Marsh writes (" Lectures on the English Language," page 22) : I must here once for all make the sad concession that many of Chaucer's works are disfigured, stained, polluted, by a grossness of thought and of language which strangely and painfully con- trasts with the delicacy, refinement, and moral elevation of his other productions. Here we have "works" apparently contrasted with " productions," as though they were two different things. The author might much better have said "of his other works ; " though indeed, " of the others," or " of the rest," would be precise and perspicuous. Compare the following : It is said there was an Amsterdam merchant who had dealt largely in corn all his life, who had never seen a field of wheat growing : this man had doubtless acquired by experience an accu- rate judgment of the qualities of each description of com, — of the 486 PERFECTION. [Part IV. best methods of storing it, of the arts of buying and selling it at proper times, etc. ; but he woiild have been greatly at a loss in its cultivation, though he had been, in a certain way, long conversant about corn. Campbell has well remarked : It is justly observed by Abb6 Girard that when a performance grows dull through an excess of uniformity, it is not so much be- cause the ear is tired by the frequent repetition of the same sound, as because the mind is fatigued by the frequent recurrence of the same idea. If, therefore, there be a remarkable paucity of ideas, a diversity of words will not answer the purpose, or give to the work an agreeable appearance of variety. On the contrary, when an author is at great pains to vary his expressions, and for this pur- pose even deserts the common road, he will, to an intelligent reader, but the more expose his poverty the more he is solicitous to conceal it. Proverbs, Aphorisms, Apothegms, Para- doxes, and Epigrams admit considerable attention to form, being usually marked by antithesis, climax, tautoph- ony, alliteration, and other figures that woiild be oppres- sive in continued discourse. Proverbs, " the wit of one and the wisdom of many," forcibly express some practical truth, the result of expe- rience or observation ; as, " He runs far that never turns." The pithy quaintness of old Howell has admirably described the ingredients of an exquisite proverb to be sense, shortness, and salt. . . Proverbs have often resulted from the spontaneous emotions or the performed reflections of some extraordinary individual, whose energetic expression was caught by a faithful ear, never to perish. — DlSBABLI. A woman is as old as she looks ; A man as old as he feels. Aphorisms differ from proverbs in relating to ab- stract truth, rather than to practical matters. An apho- Chap. XXIV.] APOTHEGMS. 4:S1 rism is the substance of a doctrine, and is characterized by the disproportion between the simplicity of the expression and the richness of the sentiment conveyed by it (Smith) ; as, Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue. That aphorism of the wise man, "The desire of the slothful killeth him, for his hands refuse to labor." — Babbow. Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent. — Swift. There are calumnies against which even innocence loses cour- age. — Napoleon. There is a great difference between an egg and an egg-shell, but at a distance they look very much alike. — Oolebidgb. Thought widens, but lames ; activity narrows, but quickens. — Goethe. Men ride their arguments as children theh- horses. They put their legs over a stick, run far afield, and make believe that the stick has canied them. — DaliiAS. Custom has no power over us except as it implies sympathy with ourselves in past conditions. — Id. Incredulity is but Credulity seen from behind, bowing and nod- ding assent to the Habitual and the Fashionable. — CoiEBrDGE. Thought is like the spring of a watch, most powerful when most compressed. Wisdom consists in the ready and accurate perception of anal- ogies. — Whatbly. Apothegms are in common matters what aphorisms are in higher. Their cliaraeteristic is terseness, as shown in Punch's advice to those about to be mari-ied : " Don't." Mam-ice Block describes the American press as ' ' despotism tem- pered by assassination. " — Atlantic Monthly. "1 would bestow my daughter," said Themistocles, "upon a man witliout money, rather than upon money without a man." My living in Yorkshire was so far out of the way that it was actually twelve miles from a lemon. — Sidney Smith. The following notes passed between two celebrated comedians : Dear J : Bend me a shilling. Yours, B. r.S, — On second thoughts, make it two, 488 PERFECTION. [Pakt IV. To which his friend replied : Dear B : I have but one shilling in the world. Yours, J. P.S.' — Oil second thoughts, I want that for dinner. The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladies spend their time in making nets, not in making cages. — SwnT. Fontenelle declared that the secret of happiness is to have the heart cold and the stomach warm. Montesquieu put forth a wicked epigram, that the only good book of the Spaniards is that which exposes the absurdity of all the rest. Paragraphers get very wealthy if they live long enough. The chief difficulty with them is to get money to live long enough. This reminds me of the boy who grew impatient at the slow grinding of the wheat he had brought to mill. " I could eat that flour faster than you turn it out," he said to the miller. " How long?" "TiU I starved." Mark Twain was asked to contribute to the paper issued at the fair in aid of abused children, in Boston, and responded as follows : Hartfoed, November 30, 1880. Dear Editors : I do it with pleasure, . . but I also do it with pain, because I am not in favor of this movement. Why should I want a " Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children " to prosper, when I have a baby down-stairs that kept me awake several hours last night, with no pretext whatever for it but a desire to make me trouble ? This occurs every night, and it embitters me, because I see how needless it was to put in the other burglar alarm, a costly and complicated contrivance which cannot be depended on, because it's always getting out of order and won't " go," whereas, although the baby is always getting out of order, too, it can nevertheless be depended on, for the reason that the more it does get out of order the more it does go. Yes, I am bitter against your society, for I think the idea of it is all wrong ; but if you will start a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Fathers, I will write you a whole book. Yours, with emotion, Mark Twain. Life would be tolerably agreeable if it were not for its pleas- ures. — SeB GbOBGE CoBKEWAIiL LbWIS. Our knowledge consists in tracing ignorance as far back as pos- sible. — EOYBB COLLAED. I do ndt love even his faults. — Sheeidan. Artemas Ward voted during the late Civil war for Henry Clay. "I admit that Henry is dead," he explained, " but inasmuch as we don't seem to have a live statesman in our National Congress, by all means let us have a first-class corpse." Chap. XXIV.] PARADOXES. 489 Paradoxes are seemingly absurd in appearance and language, but true in fact. Thus : Of Mr. Grote, the historian of Greece, and Mrs. Grote, Sidney Smith once wittily said : " I do like them both so much, for he is so ladylike, and she is such a perfect gentleman ! " Thackeray's idea of a dandy is given in the following note : "My dear Edward, — A ' dandy' is an individual who would be a lady if he could, but as he can't, does all he can to show the world he's not a man." A beau is everything of a woman but the sex, and nothing of a man beside it. — Fielding. There are lots of men who have attained high reputation for strict attention to business, but the trouble has been it wasn't their own business. — Marathon Independent. Glucose is described in a recent French paper as follows : " Glucoso — a product with which wine is manufactured without grapes, cider without apples, and confectionery without sugar." Definitions of the Period. — A privileged person — One who is so much a savage when thwarted that civilized persons avoid thwart- ing him. A liberal-minded man— One who disdains to prefer right to wrong. Eadicals — Men who maiatain the supposed right of each of us to help ruin all. Liberals — Men who flatter radicals. Conservatives — Men who give way to radicals. A domestic woman — A woman like a domestic. Humor — Thinking in fun while we feel in earnest. A musical woman — One who has strength enough to make much noise and obtuseness enough not to mind it. — Geoege Eliot. I owe much; I have nothing. I leave the rest to the poor. — Eabelais's Will. When the superannuated statesman went to his rest : " Lamar- tine has ceased to survive himself," announced a Paris journal. Prince Mettemich remarked to the best-dressed lady of the Second Empire : "I notice that your bonnets grow smaller and smaller, and the bills larger and larger. One of these days the milliner will bring nothing but the bill." TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Perfection. Epigrams, p. 467. Retort, p. 467. Brilliancy, p 467. Euphony, p. 469. Beading the essay aloud, p. 470. Variety in words, p 470. Variety in movement, p, 471. Felicity of diction, p. 472. The fitting word, p. 474. Onomatopoeia, p. 474. Tautophony, p. 477. Punning, p. 477. Alliteration, p. 479. Lipogrammatists, p. 480. Fangrammatists, p. 480. Acroaties, p. 480. Chronograms, p. 480. Anagrams, p. 481. Hhophalic verses, p. 483. Equivocal verse, p. 4^3. Serpentine letters, p. 483. Cento verse, p. 483. Concatenation, p. 483. Echo verses, p. 483. Advantage of an acquaintance with form peouliariti^es, p. 484., Avoidance of tautophony carried too far, p. 485. Proverhs, p. 486. Aphorisms, p. 486. Apothegms, p. 487. Paradoxes, p. 489. CHAPTEE XXY. PREPARATION FOR THE PRESS. The art of printing demands from ite English and American patrons not a multipli- city of words merely, but a style combining simplicity and catholicity of structure, con- formity to the principles of universal grammar, and consequently a freedom from proviucialisms and arbitrary idioms, iutelligibiltty, in short, to a degree not required in the literature of any other age or race,— Marsh. SouTHET says in his "Colloquies" that " one of the first effects of printing was to make proud men look on learn- ing as disgi'aced by being thus brought within reach of the common people. When laymen in humble life were enabled to procure books, the pride of aristocracy took an absurd course, insomuch that at one time it was deemed derogatory to a nobleman if he could read or write. Even scholars themselves complained that the reputation of learning and the respect due it and its re- wards were lowered when it was thrown open to all men. Even in this island, ignorance was for some generations considered a mark of distinction, by which a man of gentle birth chose, not unfrequently, to make it apparent that he was no more obliged to live by the toil of his brain than by the sweat of his brow." However true this may once have been, no traces of this feeling appear at the present day. In 1870, when Glad- stone and Disraeli were battling for the premiership of England, a cartoon in Punch represents the one picking up from a book-stall a novel just published by the other, 492 PEEPAEATION FOE THE PEESS. [Part IV. who, in turn, is examining a book on mythology just com- -pleted by the first. Queen Victoria wrote, and prudently invested the proceeds of, % life of her late husband, and her daughters have followed in her footsteps. In no other field is distinction so universally sought as in literature. A considerable proportion of intelligent people appear in print in some way or other during their lives, and a larger proportion try to. So it seems desirable to add to the directions already given for letter-writing (see pages 102- 104) some further hints for those who are ambitious to see something printed more pretentious than news-letters. (1) Make your Manuscript Legible.— This point has been insisted upon in letter-writing, but it must here be emphasized again, because there is much more at stake. A blotted letter may cause annoyance, loss, serious difBculty, but these will be limited to few persons, and wilFusually be temporary. A misprint is practically final, and its mischief will be as wide as is the circulation of the page it appears in. The general rule is, Make your manu- script read exactly as you want the printed page to appear, in spelling, in punctuation, and in capitals, as well as in words. A singular suit came before the courts of Michigan in which the letter of the law was in conflict with its spirit, and the question before the court was whether the letter or the spirit must be obeyed. The State Legislature at- tempted to pass a law making it a penal offence to sell liquor to minors, but, by a typographical or a clerical error, the law was made to read miners. The intent of the law was too plain to be mistaken, and in one of the counties of the State the prosecuting attorney brought suit against a saloon-keeper for selling liquor to minors. In the trial of the case the counsel for the defence put in the plea Chap. XXV.] PROOF. 493 that the act under which the action was brought could not be applied to the case in question, and upon investigation it was discovered that the act,«s it reads, applies to miners and not to minors. The prosecuting attorney, however, secured the conviction of the saloon-keeper, on the ground of the intent of the law, rightly holding tliat it was plainly meant to prohibit the sale of liquor to minors. The case was appealed. (2) Read your Proof. — It is a curious fact that the average compositor will deviate more from printed than from written copy, showing that a legible manusci-ipt, though much, is not all that is required. One can better afford to insist upon seeing the proof, and to correct it cai'ef ully, than to be the victim of such blunders as are frequent even in carefully edited newspapers. It is said that an entire form of the last edition of the " Ency- olopsedia Britannioa " had to be reprinted beoaiise of the unnoticed dropping of the first t from the last word in the following sentence : A page was trained to receive his best reward and worst punishment from the smile or frown of the lady of the castle, and, as he grew to manhood, to cherish an absorbing passion as the strongest stimulus to a noble life, and the contemplation of female virtue, as embodied in an Isolde or a Beatrice, as the trnest earnest of future immortality. The flowing reporter who wrote, with reference to a well-known belle, " Her dainty feet were encased in shoes that might have been taken for fairy boots," tied his wardrobe up in his handker- chief and left for parts unknown when it appeared the next morn- ing : " Her dirty feet were encased in shoes that might be taken for ferry boats." Many errors occur by the omission of an initial letter, as where " The Polish insurgents were defeated with great laughter." The cutting off of a final letter is quite as bad, as, for instance, " You cannot fight against the future ; Tim is on our side." Other let- ters are often dropped, to the great amusement of those who enjoy the indelicate blunders of the typo. A Southern paper says : The steamer came to grief through running heavily into a rat. 494 PREPARATION FOE THE PRESS. [Part IV. And another Southern paper was obliged to apologize and ex- plain for having called Mobile, to the great indignation of the in- habitants, "A great coffee-pot," meaning innocently enough "a great coffee port." • Compositors make strange work of scientific statements. I sometimes fancy they are not altogether so innocent in this matter as they would have us believe, and that they compose sometimes " with their tongue " very much " in their cheek." They are fond, so far as my own individual experience is concerned, of substitut- ing " comic " for "cosmic," "plants" for "planets," "human" for ' ' known, " and in other ways making hash generally of my more serious and solemn statements. The most remarkable change they ever arranged for me was one of which I still retain ' ' docu- mentary evidence " in a proof of the little book on Spectroscopic Analysis, which I wrote for the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. Here the words which in the work itself appear— as they were certainly written — " lines, bands, and stria in the violet part of spectra," were positively printed " links, bonds, and stripes for the violent kind of spectres." — Pbootob. The following, from Macmillan's Magazine, are further speci- mens : Where waddling in a pool of blood The bravest Tuscans lay, where for " waddling " read "wallowing." In a passage on William Euf us occur the lines — Who spacious regions gave, A waste/w; beast I where the original has " a waste for beasts." No triumph flushed that haughty Brown, only differs from the original by the capital and the addition of the final letter to the last word. In a reprint of "Lord TJllin's Daughter" occurs this curious Come back 1 he cried in Greek, Across the stormy wa^er. Here is a new version of Scott : He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the flaw dust. Chap. XXV.] PRINTERS' ERRORS. 495 Here a variation on Macaulay : And the red glare on Skiddaw roused the burglars of Carlisle. Another : Hermlnius on blade Auster, Grave cttaplain on grave steed. From a description of a waterfall : Prom rock to rock, the giant elephurU Leaps with delirious bound, where, of course, '* elephant" is a varia lectio for " element." If ever two great men might seem during their whole lives to have moved in direct opposition, Milton and Jerry my Tailor were they. A variation on Scott : The way was long, the wind was cold, The minstrel was irifernal old. Another on Macaulay : Hard by, &Jleahe on a block had laid his vittlM down, Virginius caught the vitiles up, and hid them in his gown. Florence De Laigne, who recently published some verses on " Autumn " in these col- umns, writes to ask, " Who is responsible for the typographical eiTors in the ffawkeye f'' Lean down here, Florence, while we whisper in your ear : " sh ; nobody is. The editor writes s j plainly that even a blind man can spell out his words ; the compositors are college men who have edited papers of their own, and they set up the matter exactly as it is written, and correct what mistakes the editor makes ; the proof-reader is a pro- fessor of rhetoric and philology in an Iowa college, and never made a mistake in his life ; and he corrects what few mistakes the compositors may make ; the foreman is a Got- tinf^en graduate, who has nothing to do but to see that the matter is perfect when the forms go down. There isn't a mistake in the Bawkeye when it reaches the press. But we'll tell you, as a professional secret, Florence, how the mistakes creep in. The press- man told the manager, and the manager told u^; ; it's the ink, Florence, it's the ink. We pay out thousands and thousands of dollars a year for good ink, and we can't get an arti- cle that won't fairly measle the paper with typographical errors." — Bwrlington Hawkeye, Many of the blunders of the press are of the sort which one might suppose would be corrected by the most careless compositor and would certainly be detected by the most ordinary of proof- readers. Perhaps this is one reason why these errors appear so amusing. Not long since the British public were edified by the interesting information that twenty-five Eussian men-of-war were proceeding to the Black Sea " to take part in the autumn manoeu- vres next summer." Of a like sort was the announcement that Beethoven*s pastoral symphony would " be performed at the Mon- day Popular Concerts next Saturday.'' So also the statement that 496 PREPARATION FOR THE PRESS. [Part IV. "on one day of last week a hundred and forty deaths by cholera occurred in Naples in forty-eight hours." Another country news- paper in England apologized for a slight error in a previous issue, in which it was stated : " Much regret is felt at the death of Coun- cilman Cooper, who was seventy-eight years of age, and has been a member of the council for over eighty years.'' So again : " Now paper was first made of linen in 1300. Linen was first made in 1563, but the introduction of cotton, etc." That editor should take the Scotchman's advice "to buy a bag of dates and swallow the seeds." Even more exasperating are errors resulting from what some presumptuous compositor or proof-reader supposes to be corrections of errors by the author. Freeman's historical essays were amended more or less by the editors through whose hands they passed for publication in the Eeviews. For book-publication, Mr. Freeman has restored the original reading. Examples : Editor — Every renewed instance. Freeman — Every fresh instance. Ed. — The Turks were expelled. F.— The Turks were driven out. Ed. — Never was Greece either nobler or baser. F. — Never did Greece rise higher or fall lower. Ed. — The kind of government established. F. — The kind of gov- ernment which was set up. This is a good lesson of taste in choice of words. Further than that, in one or two instances, the meaning is not as precisely given by the editor as by the author. An eminent French philological writer, when accused of violating his own principles of orthography in one of his printed essays, thus replies : *' It was not I that printed my essay, it was Mr. Didot. Now Mr. Didot, I confess it with pain, is not of my opinion with regard to the spelling of certain plurals, and I cannot oblige him to print against his conscience ani habits. You know that every printing-oflfice has its rules, its fixed system, from which it will not consent to depart. For example, I think the present system of punctuation detestable, because the points are multiplied to a ridiculous excess. Well, I attempt to prove this by precept and example, and the very printers who publish my a gument scat- ter points over it as if they were shaken out of a pepper-box. It is their way. What would you have ? They will print my theory only on condition that I will submit to their practice.^^ — Maksh. Finally, there is the chance of whole lines being mis- placed in the transferring of the type from the " galley " to the page. Not till the press is fairly at work can the author be sure that his essay will appear as he wrote it. Chap. XXV.] CORRECTllfG PaoOf*. 497 A ludicrous transposition occurred in the make-up of a couple of telegraphic items in the New Haven Journal and Courier re- cently, which produced the following effect : The first item read, "A large cast-iron wheel, revolving 900 times per minute, ex- ploded in that city yesterday after a long and painful illness. Deceased was a prominent Thirty-second degree Mason." This was followed by the second item, which read: "John Fadden, the well-known florist and real estate broker of Newport, B. I., died in "Wardner & Bussell's sugar-miU, at Crystal Lake, 111., on Saturday, doing $3,000 damage to the building, and iajuring sev- eral workmen and Lorenzo Wilcox fatally." — Boston Post. HOW TO CORRECT PROOF. The following are the chief rules observed, and signs used, by Printers in correcting proofs for the press : 1. No alteration should be made between the lines which has not some mark opposite it in the margin, to attract the printer's eye. 2. Instructions to the printer should be enclosed within a circle, to distinguish them from additions to the proof. 3. When ■< point, letter, or word is to be chansbd, draw the pen through it, and write the new point, letter, or word in the margin. (See Nos. 1, 5, and 6.)* 4. When points, letters, or words are to be inserted, write them in the margin, and mark a caret (a) at the place where they are to be intro- duced. (See Nos. 3, 16, 19, 20, and 22.) 5. In the case of quotation marks, asterisks, or apostrophes, which are TO be inserted, a curve should be drawn under them, thus ^ '. (See Nos. 24, 30, 31, 33, 34, and 37.) 6. In the case of a period TO be inserted, it should he placed in the margin within a circle O , otherwise it might be overlooked. (See No. 29.) 7. When a point, letter, or word is to be omitted altogether, draw the pen through it, and write 9i/ (dele) in the margin. (See Nos. 3, 25, 35, and 36.) 8. Letters or words placed too close should have a stroke drawn between them, and a space (jj) marked in the margin. (See No 4.) 9. Letters too far separated should be joined by curves (3), and have curves marked in the margin. (See No. 12.) * These Nor. refer to the numbers of the corrections in the " Example of an Aatbor^a Proof," etc., on page 499. 498 PREPARATION FOR THE PRESS [Part IV. 10. When two paragraphs are to be conjoinbd, draw a curved line from the end of the one to the beginning of the other, and write in the mai-gin, ^^ ran on." (See No. 7.) 11. When a sentence in the body of a paragraph is to begin a new PARAGRAPH, draw a square bracket ( [ ) round the first letter of it, and write in the margin, N.P. (new paragraph). (See No. 11.) 12. When a word in italics is TO BE printed in boman, underline it, and write rom. in the margin. (See No. 8.) 13. When a word in roman is TO BE printed in italics, underline it, and write itcd. in the margin. (See No. 10.) 14. When a -word is TO BE printed in small capitals, draw a double line under it, and write sm. cap. in the margin. (See No. 18.) 15. When a letter or word is TO BE printed in capitals, draw a triple line under it, and wi'ite caps, in the margin. (See No. 23.) 16. When a word in capitals or small capitals is TO BE printed in SMALL letters. Underline it, and write in the margin, I. c. ("lower case," the "case" in which capitals are kept being above the other). (See No. 21.) 17. When a letter is inserted itpside down, draw a line under it, and make a reverse 9/ in the margin. (See No. 9. ) 18. When a deleted word is to be retained, draw a dotted line under it, and write stet (let it stand) in the margin. (See No. 13.) 19. When a SPACE STICKS UP between two words, it is noticed by a stroke in the margin. (See No. 14.) 20. When a line should be inijented, put a square bracket at the point where the line should begin, and write indent in the margin. (See No. 17.) 21. When a letter of a different character has got into a word, a line should be drawn under it, and w.f. (wrong font) marked in the margin. (See No. 26.) 22. When two letters are to be transposed, draw a short line under them, and write tr. in the margin. (See No 28.) 28. Wlien two or more words are to be transposed, draw a curved line above the first and below tlie second, and write tr. in the margin. (See Nos. 15 and 27.) 24. When letters or lines stand crooiced oe irregular, draw lines above and below them. (See No. 82.) 25. When a second proof, incorporating first corrections, is wanted, write Revise on the upper corner : When no such proof is wanted, and it is ready to be printed off, write Press on the upper corner. Chap. XXV.] CORRECTING PROOF. 499 Examples of an Author's Proof, with the marks for making Corrections and Alterations, according to Eules stated on pages 497, 498. Popular ^ory ia a perfo.t coq^uette ; her lovers mual; * c/ toil^feel' every inquietude, indulgejevery caprice | and',/ ' A/ 'ji/ ',/ per taps at last be jilted with the targai n.y » iniol ' run onj ^True glory, on the other hand, resembles a woman of fense ,• her admirers must play no tnayp ; they feel no ° Tom.j ' y great anxiety, for they are sure in the "end o f being re- »" Hat./ warded in proportion to their merit. [I know not how ^' 2f.P.I to turn so trite a sub ject out of the beaten road of " ^1 eomm e n place, except by illustrating it, rather^y the " sCet-l " | assistance of myljudgmen ^than myj memory, and instead " ir./ of making reflections by teliug a story. ," /ylj A rOhinese, who had long studied the -works of "mdentj Confucius , who knew fourteen thousand words, and could ""< caps.f read a great part of everybook that came^his way, once '' ^c taraccers of took it into his head to travel into E oBurE , and observe " Lei the customs of a people in the arts of refining upon every pleasure. Upon his arrival at _^mster(iam, his '"cdp.j ^^ ^ passion for letters naturally led him to a bookseUersi "iji "3,1 | I* Bhbp; and as he could speak Butch |a little he civilly ""w/./ .=" tr) o g* asked the bookseller for the works fo the immortal ^^tr\ »• S Ilixifou^ The boolcseller assured him he tad never " O ^ ^ heard, the book mentioned before. "What! have you % g never heard of that immortal poet,/^returned the other, '° fP-\ g, J much surprised, ftthat light of the eyes, that favourite of '"■ t^^j "| -.^ kings, that rose of perfection 1 I suppose you know Dq. ''' § ~ thing of the immortal !Fipsihihi, second cousin- to {J^ " ■ *■ moon?" "Nothing at all indeed, sir," retuTned'''rrr ^ S, other. " Alas !a cries our traveller./^to what purpose *" aU./ " A"/ ^' then has one of these fAasted to death, and the other " ^ offered hisa Mmself up as a. sacrifice to the Tartarean ™ ^f enemy to gain a renown which has never travelled bu- yoad the precincts of China a " A*/ 600 PREPARATION FOR THE PRESS. [Part IV. The Author's Proof after the corrections marked on page 499 have been made : Popular glory is a perfect coquette ; her lovers must toll, feel every inquietude, indulge every caprice, and perhaps at last be jilted into the bargain. True glory, on the other hand, resembles a woman of sense : her admirers must play no tricks ; they feel no great anxiety, for they are sure in the end of being rewarded in proportion to their merit. I know not how to turn so trite a subject out of the beaten road of common place, except by illustrating it, rather by the assistance of my memory than my judgment, and instead of making reflections by tell- ing a story. A Chinese who had long studied the works of CoNFtrcius, who knew the characters of fourteen thousand words, and could read a great part of every book that came In his way, once took it into his head to travel into Europe, and observe the customs of a people whom he thought not very much inferior even to his own countrymen in the arts of reJining upon every pleasure. Upon his arrival at Amsterdam, his passion for letters naturally led him to a bookseller's shop ; and as he could speak a little Dutch, he civilly asked the bookseller for the works of the im- mortal Ilixifou. The bookseller assured him he had never heard the book mentioned before. "What! have you never heard of that im- mortal poet," returned the other, much surprised, "that light of the eyes, that favorite of kings, that rose of perfection ! I suppose you know nothing of the immortal Pipsihihi, second cousin to the moon ? " '•'Nothing at all indeed, sir," returned the other. "Alas!" cries our traveller, ' ' to what purpose then has one of these fasted to death, and the other offered himself up as a sacrifice to the Tartarean enemy to gain a renown which has never travelled beyond the precincts of China. '' (3) Avoid Egotism.— In certain kind's of news- paper articles, especially personal and literary criticisms, there has lately been a growing affectation of tlie use of "I" and " me " and " my," instead of the " we " and " us " and "our" hitherto generally adopted by editors. At present it seems an affectation, and in newspaper work is not to be recommended, especially to young writers. But in using the " we " care must be taken : («) Not to extend the plural use beyond the possessive. Chap. XXV.] EGOTISM. 501 Thus, we would not say, "You, Mary, shall do this yourselves," nor should the editorial writer say, "We ourselves made the tenth." The sentences should be: "You, Mary, shall do this yourself," " We ourself made the tenth." Correct the following : The, judge is a glorious Bailor as well as jurist, and we would gladly trust our Uvea with him on the most dangerous seas. — J!few York Standard. {h) To avoid ambiguous expressions. A little book of information for foreign travellers, issued by E. M. Jenkins, contains this sentence : A remedy recommended by many, and thoroughly believed in by our wife, is a mix- ture of glycenne and collodion. This reminds one of the Mrs. Brown asking for credit at a dry- goods store, who, when her name was not recognized by the clerk, said, with scarcely Justifiable ellipsis, " Why, don't you know me ? I am Tompkins & Brown's wife." (c) To use the " we " only in newspaper articles of an editorial character. Even newspaper letters are now written commonly in the singu- lar, while in books, essays, sermons, and public addresses the best usage is pronouncedly in favor of the singular form, when the, author speaks of himself apart from his readers. This last quali- fication is necessary, because in most instances where the pronoun is in the first person the author is carrying along his audience with him, or speaking of general usage. Thus we should say "I have been led to give special study to this subject," where the refer- ence is manifestly to the speaker as an individual; but "we should say," as at the beginning of this sentence, where the mean- ing is that any intelligent person would say so. (d) Make as few references to yourself as possible. In narration of what one has done or seen, one must speak of one's self, and should do it naturally and unaffectedly (see pages 140, 142, 145, 197) ; sometimes vividness is added to an illustra- tion or an anecdote by mentioning the speaker's part in it ; but as a general rule, statements and arguments shbuld be cast in im- personal form. The writer should Bixo, to fix the reader's attention on the thought, not on himself, 502 PRBPAKATION FOR THE PKESS. - [Part IV. (4) Do not be Discouraged by Rebuffs.— Probably most experienced writers would advise a young person not to write for publication, believing that ninety- nine of every hundred will write nothing worth reading, and that the hundredth will be so impelled to write that no discouragement will prevent him. And it may be said without qualification that for getting a livelihood almost every other field offers more inducements than literature. In the first place, it is difficult to get started, as witness the experience told on pages 88, 89 ; and, in the second place, the money reward in the higher walks of literature bears no proportion to that attained for corresponding eminence in other vocations. The professional literary man is usually a failure, but finds no great prizes awaiting him if he happens to succeed. So one might better hoe corn or make bonnets than write poems for a living ; but it does not follow that one who has tastes in that direction should riot exercise them in writing, and test them in trying to get the writing into print. Nor should the fact that a dozen editors decline it make the author ashamed to offer the manuscript to a thirteenth. Usually it will be well before offering it to any publisher to go to a friend whose judgment and whose frankness can be trusted, and be sure of his indorsement before it is offered at all ; but if it is vouched for emphati- cally by some one who ought to know what is worth print- ing, don't let your light go out because the editor of the Squashtown Bugle or of the Pacific Review declines it. Keep. trying, keep trying; but in the meantime don't let your bread and butter be dependent on it. A correspondent of the Boston Transcript tells about James Eussell Lowell's playing a joke upon the Atlantic. He wrote an .article cajlejj the "Essence of American Humor," which was said C»AP. XXV.] COPYRIGHTS. 503 by friends to whom he read it to be among the best of his writ- ings. " He employed some one to copy it," says the correspond- ent, " and signed it 'W. Perry Paine,' and sent it to the Atlantic, with the request that, as it was a maiden effort, the editor would give an opinion in writing to said Paine. He waited a fortnight, but heard nothing from his paper, when, being in Boston, he dropped into the office of the Atlantic, and, meeting James T. Fields, adroitly turned the conversation upon humor, and remarked it was singular so little was .written upon the subject. Fields re- plied, ' We get a great deal of manuscript on humor, but it is so poor that we cannot use it. I threw into the waste-basket the other day a long screed christened the ' ' Essence of American Humor," which should have been styled the "Essence of Non- sense," for a more absurd farrago of stuff I have never seen.' Lowell, much to the surprise of the editor, burst into a roar of laughter and informed Mr. Fields of the authorship of the article. The editor turned all colors and swore it was one of Lowell's jokes. ' Indeed it is,' responded Lowell, ' and the best joke I ever played. I never thought highly of my scribbling, but I didn't believe it was the most ridiculous farrago of stuff you had ever seen.' By way of self-defence, Fields declared he did not read the thing, but that he did not believe that a man who signed his first name with an initial and the second full could write for the Atlantic. That was about as ingenious an excuse as he could make for his partiality." (5) Copyrights are easily obtained. It is only neces- sary {a) to have printed upon a sheet of paper the title of the article or book, (&) to forward the same to "The Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C," (c) enclosing one dollar (whereupon the copyright will be entered and a copy sent you), and finally, when the article or book is published, (c?) to send two copies to the Librarian, for deposit in the Library at Washington. A copyright thus secured is valid for twenty-eight years, and may then be renewed for another fourteen. PART V. THE RATIO M. CHAPTER XXVI. ELOQUENCE. The object of rhetoric is persuasion, — of logic, conviction, — of grammar, significancy. — COLEBIDGE. De Quincey divides all literature into two classes — the literature of knowledge and the literature of power. The function of the first is to teach ; the function of the second is to move. For the best definition which I think can be given of Eloquence ia, the art of speak ing in such a manner as to obtain the end for which we speak, — Blaib. The word Eloquence in its greatest latitude denotes that art or talent by which the discourse is adapted to its end. '^ The best orator is he that so speaks as to instruct, to delight, and to move the minds of his hearers." * — Caupbbll. A new element enters into the construction of the Oration. Tlie fundamental purpose of Conversation is to entertain, of Letter-writing to inform, of the Essay to in- terest. The Oration must entertain, must inform, must intei-est; but it must do more, it must persuade. A speech has a purpose, and it is or is not a good speech ac- cording as it does or does not effect that purpose. It may be wise and witty and weighty, but if it does not move the audience it is a failure. The essayist or the poet may feel * Optimus est orator qui dicendo animos audientium et docet, et delectat, et per- movet.— CiOBBO. 506 ELOQUENCE. [Part V. inly assured that his work is worthy ; that though neg- lected now, it will some time be recognized as a master- piece. The orator has no such solace. His speech is for the moment and the occasion of its delivery; if it fails then, it is a failure forever. These two varieties of power are illustrated in the styles of "TSaiiiel Webster and Kufus Olioate. Both were powerful speakers ; but Webster was the superior, because of his superior power of selection. Much as one is dazzled by Choate's marvellous com- mand of vocabulary, still one cannot avoid thinking of his style in the reading. That always indicates a defect. An absolutely per- fect style attracts no attention to itself. Criticism of it is'an after- thought. Members of the Boston bar all alike yielded to the spell of Ohoate's rhetoric ; yet, in the very act of admiring, they found time to note that he " drove iixe substantive and six," allud- ing to the multitude of adjectives which he harnessed to a noun. Men with tears coursing down their cheeks, in listening to his sonorous periods in his eulogy upon Webster, yet slyly made a memorandum that they would count the words in some of those periods when they should be printed, and afterward remarked that one of them was the longest but one in the English lang-uage. Who ever heard of any such arithmetical criticism of Webster's reply to General Hayne of South Carolina ? When Ohoate spoke, men said, " What a marvellous style. How beautiful, how grand, how immense his vocabulary, how intricate his combinations, how adroit his sway over the mother-tongue." When Webster spoke, men said, "He will gain his case." Webster's vocabulary was much more limited than that of Ohoate, but he had a much sterner power of selection and rejection. His command of language was like Darwin's law of species in the struggle for existence — only that lived which deserved to live. — Phelps. Adaptation to the audience and the occasion is there- fore the prime consideration. Nothing merits the name of eloquent or beautiful which is not suited to the occasion, and to the persons to whom it is ad- dressed. — BiiAns. Chap. XXVI.] VadapTATION. 50Y Universally indeed in theVguments used as well as in the ap- peals to the feelings, a oonsiderS|(tion must be had of the hearei-s, whether they are learned or igno\nt,— of this or that profession, —nation,— character, etc., and the address must be adapted to each; so that there can be no exceUeno^in writing or speaking, in the abstract ; nor can we any more pronouttpe on the eloquence ot any composition than upon the wholesoml^sss of a medicine, without knowing for whom it is intended. — WhSi^^^^- Even the common people are better judges oi arguineS^ good sense than we sometimes think them ; and upon any ques- tion of business, a plain man, who speaks to the point, without art, will generally prevail over the most artful speaker who deals in flowers and ornaments, rather than in reasoning. — Blaib. In applauding an orator, we usually applaud ourselves. He says what we were just ready to say ; we seem to have suggested the idea. The deliberate expression of human thought will always assume a form supposed to be adapted to the intelligence, the temper, the tastes, and the aims of those to whom it is addressed. He who speaks to an audience composed of men of one class, of one pro- fes^iion, of one party, or of one sect, will use a narrower vocabulary, a more restricted or a more select dialect, than he who expects to be heard by a more various and compre- hensive circle ,' and a writer who appeals to a whole people, who seeks to convince the understanding or enlist the sympathies of a nation, must adopt a diction, employ argu- ments, and resort to illustrations, which shall, in their turn, suit the comprehension and awaken the interest of men of every cl^s an^of every calling. — Maesh. Special care must be taken to exclude from popular speeches certain features, wliieh Abbott has thus classified : (a) Considerations that are subtile or far-fetched. — Thoiigh an audience may applaud th^se if they are skilfully presented, they will be practically guided by plainer and coarser arguments. (b) Language and imagery that are subtile or pedantic. — In Tay- lor's " Edwin the Fair," the Pedant, in addressing an audience of monks, begins figuratively — On Mount Olympus with the Muses nine I ever dwelt. Upon which the cry is — He doth confess it, lo ! He doth confess it I Fagots and a stake I He is a heathen ; shall a heathen speak ? 508 ELOQUENCE, y' [Part V. So when in debate, in reply to tjfe argument of an opponent that his client is a man of letters^a speaker retorts, "Yes, a man of thi'ee letters," the retort is Ic^t on those who do not happen to know that this phrase is the i^nslation of the Latin euphemism for thief, hmym trium litter amm (fur). (c) Considerations alig^ to the ways of thinking of the assembly addressed. — Thus it h^been said in the House of Commons of a • scheme laid before/ft by a philosopher, "It is not of our atmos- phejp.iiJ^'yFBftEesame reason it has been remarked that lawyers "Seldom succeed in the House of Commons ; and Erskine, the greatest of advocates, excited nothing but contempt in Pitt, who ruled the House of Commons. Hence, also, the kind of oratory which suits a jury — i.e., an unskilled audience— differs from that which is likely to convince a judge ; i.e., a skijled auditor. (d) Consideratimis of a higher moral tone than is likely to be ap- preciated by the assembly. — A speaker may feel it his duty to urge such considerations, but they are not oratorical. An interesting exam;^le of oratory, ineffective for this reason, is the speech in justification of the murder of Csesar, attributed by Shakspere to Brutus. It appeals to abstract principles of morality quite beyond the comprehension of the crowd, and therefore excites nothing but a cold respect for the speaker. Then follows Antony, with an appeal to feelings, some good, some bad, but actually present in the minds, of the audience, ancraxoites them to frenzy. A little boy was shown the picture of the martyrs thrown to the lions. He startled his friends by shouting: "Ma! OMa! Just look at that poor little lion way behind there. He won't get any." There are audiences that from abstract discussion draw reflec- tions far from those intended. It is not by his own taste, but by the taste of the fish that the angler is determined in his choice of bait. — Maoaulat. (e) Imagery, phraseology, and rhythm,, too rich and exquisite to be readily appreciated. — Specimens have been given above Of '-fihe highest eloquence of English prose. Scarcely one of them be- longs to oratory as here defined ; that is, scarcely one of them would be tolerated in the House of Commons, or in a law court. Students inust not be misled by the speeches of Burke so as to suppose that the richness" and ingenuity of his style is properly Chap. XXVL] ADAPTATION. 509 oratorical. Burke was, in fact, little listened to in the House of Commons. The true oratorical style is much less elaborate and ingenious. The following is a specimen of the manner of Fox, the most powerful of English orators : " We must keep Bonajiarte for some time longer at war, as a state of probation ! Gra- cious God, sir, is war a state of probation ? Ib peace a rash Byetem ? Is it dangerous for nations to live in amity with each other? Are your vigilance, your policy, your eommon powers of observation, to be extinguished by putting an end to the horrors of war ? Can- not this state of probation be as well undergone without adding to the catalogue of human sufEeringB? But wc must pause J What I must the bowels of Great Britain be torn out, her best blood spilt, her treasure wasted, that you may make an experiment? Put your- Bolves-— oh, that you would put yourBelves in the field of battle, and loam to judge of the sort of horrors that you excite 1 In former wars a man might at least have some feeling, some interest, that served to balance in his mind the impressions which a scene of car- nage and of death must inflict. If a man had been present at the battle of Blenheim, for instance, and had inquired the motive of the battle, there was not a soldier engaged who could not have satisfied his curiosity, and even i>erhaps allayed his feelings — they were fighting to repress the uncontrolled ambition of the Grand Monarque. But if a man were present now at a field of slaughter, and were to inquire for what they were fighting, ' Fighting ?' would be the answer, 'they are not fighting, they are paw/Jinff.' 'Why is that man expiring ? why is that other writhing in agony ? what means this implacable fury?' The answer must bo, 'You arc quite wrong, sir; you deceive yourself. They are not fighting. Do not dislurb them ; they are merely paKS/nj/. This man is not ex- piring with agony, that man is not dead ; he is only pausing ! They are not angry with one another : they have now no cause of quarrel ; but their country thinks there should be a pause. All that you see, sir, is nothing like fighting : there is no harm, nor cruelty, nor bloodshed in it whatever ; it is nothing more than a political i^ause ! It is merely to try an experiment, to see whether Bonaparte will not behave himself better than here- tofore ; and in the meantime we have agreed to a pause in pure friendship I ' And is this the way, sir, that you are to show yourselves the advocates of order? You take up a system calculated to uncivilize the world, to trample on religion, to stifie in the heart not merely the generosity of noble sentiment, but the affections of social nature, and in the prosecution of this system you spread terror and deBolation around you. What is chiefly to be remarked in this passage is : (1) the sim- plicity and homeliness of the thought it expresses ; (2) the care- lessness of the language and the complete absence of rhythm, the orator evidently beginning his sentences without knowing how he would end them. To these characteristics it owes very much of its persuasiveness. "What you are asked to believe Is not anything paradoxical, and the language used is so direct and natural that you suspect no artifice. The character of the speaker is also a powerful consideration. We permit ourselves to be entertained, 510 BIjOQUENCE. [Part V. informed, and interested by almost any one that has the requisite intellectual ability ; but we are slow to be per- suaded by those whom we do not respect. One thing is certain, and I shall hereafter have occasion to illustrate it more fully, that without possessing the virtuous affec- tions in a strong degree, no man can attain eminence in the sub- Hme parts of eloquence. — BiiAiB. It may be objected that bad men have been great orators. It would be more exact to say that most such men have had within them the capacity for distittguished probity, but that they have fallen through moral weakness. Such a man sees the right way, and can still point it out to an audience, though he no longer fol- lows it ; while a naturally bad man, having never seen it, uncon- sciously betrays his ignorance of it. Hence weak men do more mischief than bad men ; for their sympathy with all that is true and noble gives them an influence over the good that the bad man could never establish, and which they betray. It may be urged that to adapt one's self to the audience is a sort of duplicity ; but this view has been well refuted, as follows : Much declamation may be heard in the present day against ex- pediency, as if it were not the proper object of a deliberative as- sembly, and as if it were pursued only by the unprincipled. And this kind of declamation is represented as a sign of superior moral rectitude ; though in truth it implies very unsound morality, in any one who is not led into it through mere confusion of thought and inaccuracy of language. — Whateiy. Vanity, always a weakness, is in oratory unpardonable. It is a peculiarity in the i-hetorical art that in it, more than in any other, vanity has a direct and inimediate tendency to' interfere with the proposed object. Excessive vanity may indeed in various ways prove an impediment to success in other pursuits ; but in the endeavor to persuade, all wish to appear excellent in that art operates as a hinderanoe. A poet, a statesman, a general, etc., though extreme covetousness of applause may mislead them, will, Chap. XXVI.] SINCERITY. 511 however, attain their respective ends certainly not the less for being admired as excellent in poetry, politics, or war ; but the orator attains his end the better the less he' is regarded as an orator. If he can make the hearers believe that he is not only a stranger to aU unfair artifice, but even destitute of all persuasive skill whatever, he will persuade them the more effectually, and if there ever could be an absolutely perfect orator, no one would, at the time at least, discover that he was so. . . . It is important to remark that an orator is bound as such, not merely on moral but (if such an expression may be used) on rhetorical principles, to be mainly and indeed exclusively intent on carrying his point ; not on gaining approbation or even avoid- ing censure, except with a view to that point. He should, as it were, adopt as a motto the reply of Themistocles to the Spartan commander Eurybiades, who lifted his staff to chastise the earn- estness with which his own opinion was controverted : " Strike, but hear me." I would not indeed undertake to maintain (like Quintilian) that no one can be an orator who is not a virtuous man ; but there cer- tainly is a kind of moral excellence implied in that renunciation of all effort after display, in that forgetfulness of self, which is abso- lutely necessary, both in the manner of writing and in the delivery, to give the full force to what is said. — Whatkly. Look at Dogberry, anxious to be written down an ass, and proving his donkeyhood by utter unconsciousness of it. Look at Palstail, on the other hand, laughing at himself and stopping the laughter of others when he says, " I do begin to perceive I am made an aas." And it is not only the final teat of donkeyhood, but goes down to the deeps of life. Shakspere is very fond of such phrases as these : " The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool." "The worst is not as long as we can say. This is the worst." " I am not very sick since I can reason of it." — Dallas. Sincerity is imperatively demanded. Universally a writer or speaker should endeavor to maintain the appearance of expressing himself not as if he wanted to say some- thing, but as if he had something to say. — Whatblt. Asked what was the secret of his success in public debate. President Lincoln replied: "I always assume that my audience are in many things wiser than I am, and I say the most sensible thing I can to them. I never found that they did not understand 512 ELOQUENCE. [Part V. I know that young people, on purpose to train themselves to the art of speaking, imagine it useful to adopt that side of the question under debate which to themselves appears the weakest, and to try what figure they can make upon it. But I am afraid this is not the most improving education for public speaking ; and that it tends to form them to a habit of flimsy and trivial dis- course. — Blair, If at least that man is to be accounted the most perfect orator who (as Cicero lays down) can speak the best and most persuasively on any question whatever that may arise, it may fairly be doubted whether a jZrsi-m/e maw care heajlrat-rate orator. He may indeed speak admii*ably in a matter he has well considered ; but when any new sub- ject or new point is started in the course of a debate, though he may take a juster view of it at the first g'lance, on the exigency of the moment, than any one else could, he will not fail — as a man of more superficial cleverness would— to perceive how impossible it must be to do full justice to a subject demanding more reflection and inquiry; nor can he thereffore place himself fully on a level in such a case with one of shallower mind, who being in all cases leas able to look beneath the surface of thingp, obtains at the glance the best view he can take of avy subject, and therefore can display, without any need of artifice, that easy unembarrassed confidence which can never be with equal effect assumed. To speak perfectly well, in short, a man must feel that he has got to the bottom of the subject ; and to feel this on occasions where from the nature of the case it is impossible he can really have done so, is inconsistent with the character of great profundity. — ^Whatelt. The Funny Man can never be an orator. He may ■ amnse ns, but we do not let him persuade us. We yield our judgment only to the speaker who is thoroughly in earnest. There are things incompatible "with unction, such as wit, an analysis too strict, a tone too dictatorial, logic too formal, irony, the use of language too secular or too abstract, a form too literary ; for unction supposes abundance, overflow, fluidity, pliableness. — ViNET. The pathetic and the facetious differ not only in subject and effect, ' as will appear upon the most superficial review of whdt has been said, but also in the manner of imita- tion. In this |the man of humor descends to a minuteness which the orator disdains. The former will of ten successfully run into downright mimicry, and exhibit peculiarities in voice, gesture, and pronunciation, which in the other would be intolerable. The rea- son of the difference is this; That we may divert, by exciting scorn and contempt, the individual must be exposed ; that we may move by interesting the more generous prin- ciples of humanity, the language and sentimentB not so much of the individual as of hu- man nature must be displayed. So very different, or rather opposite, are these two ii^ this respect, that there could not be a more effectual expedient for undoing the charm of the most affecting representation, than an attempt in the speaker to mimic the personal Chap. XXVI]. MODEEATION. 513 singularities of the man for whom he desires to interest us. On the other hand, in the humorous, where the end is diversion, even overacting, if moderate, is not improper. — Cahpbeli.. The Objection to a predominance of the humorous in a public speaker is not to the liumor but to the affecta- tion, the bent of mind that seeks to look upon things not as they are, but as they may be made to seein laughable. When the wit is plainly subordinate to the thought, and employed not for itself but as the most forcible expression of the thought, it is the happiest element of perfection in a discourse, especially in discussion. (See page 81.) Wit may sometimes be of service at the bar, especially in a lively reply, by which we may throw ridicule on something that has been said on the other side. But though the reputation of wit be dazzling to a young pleader, I would never advise him to rest his strength upon this talent. It is not his business to make an audience laugh, but to convince the judge ; and seldom or never did any one rise to eminence in his profession by being a witty lawyer. — BiiAib. Moderation is another essential quality, especially in enlisting the sympathies of the audience. Even when passion is aroused, and the orator seems to be sweeping his hearers along by the torrent of his fiery words, he will still be wary not to be more violent than their excitement warrants, remembering that there is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous. Eeserve has great force. This devout and holy sobriety of ex- pression is not merely a discipline worthy of being reverenced for its motive ; it is a wise and wholesome economy. Feeling is ex- hausted by the expression of feeling. Never without an evident and impracticable miracle can the woi-ds of the poet respecting the magic cup be spoken of the soul : And still the more the vase poured forth The more it seemed to hold. — Ovid. 514: ELOQUENCE. [Part V. Beserved men, wien that reserve is not the mark of sterility, preserve the strength of their soul just as temperate men preserve their iTodily vigor. Nay, their very reserve is usually a pledge and a foundation of mental strength. Nothing moves us so deeply as a single word from the heart of one whose words are, from a sense of duty, few. — Vinet. M. Clemenceau, the French Minister, was devoid of enthusiasm and made no secret of his contempt for the imaginativeness and "gush" of the Southern orators. Once, after one of Gambetta's most impassioned speeches, Clemenceau was seen to wear a scorn- ful expression. " Why, you must admit that it was a magnificent oration," expostulated M. Naquet. " It was incomplete," replied Clemenceau, dryly ; " M. Gambetta should have accompanied him- self on the guitar." The following eulogy upon Justice Clifford, by Senator Davis, is an admirable example of moderation in a field of oratory where there is peculiar temptation to extravagance : The members of the bar have come together to perform the sad duty of offeringf proper respect to the memory of the late Mr. Jiistice Nathan Clifford. It was my privilege to be associated with him on the bench for fifteen years, and it was my pleasure to know him closely during all that time, in the relations of an unbroken personal friendship. He was a pure jurist, who, as i he profession know, was patient, scrupulous, faithful to every duty, and earnest to be right. Investigation to him was a labor of love, and industry was a recreation. Well equipped in the science of the law, a clear bead and a wise judgment rarely failed to carry him to sound conclusions; and, whatever they might be, the court and bar accepted them always as the result of his honest convictions. As a citizen, his life was au example. As a patriot, he was eminent for devotion to free institutions. As a man, he was noted for the best qualities that challenge respect and admiration. As a friend, he was stanch and self-denying. His public services and his private virtues will long be cherished by a grateful public. Pungency is the most manifest element of success in a public speaker. We yield our time reluctantly to one who does not seem to be giving us something to grasp ; and we grasp only ideas that are clean-cut, vigorous,^ com- plete. I do not think that so much harm is done by giving error to a child, as by giving truth in a lifeless form. — Chastning. An' old man, asked how he liked a certain sermon, re- Chap. XXVI.] PUNGENCY. "ilS plied, " I liked it very well, except that there was no pinch to it. 1 always like to have a little pinch to every sermon." It has been said of the celebrated chancellor of England, Lord Soiners, that he once delivered a speech in the House of Peers in the space of seven minutes, which was so re- plete with sense, wisdom, and intelligence, that the debate was closed on his resuming bis seat, every one being sat- isfied that so wise a counsellor had embodied in his ad- dress all the information which was essential to the proper elucidation of tlie question then under consideration. — McQueen. LoBD Bacon's Oeatoby. — Yet there happened in my time one noble speaker who was full of gravity in his speaking. His lan- guage (where he could spare or pass by a jest) was nobly cen- sorious. No man ever spake more neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered. No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers could not cough or look aside from him without loss. He commanded where he spoke, and had his jtidges angry and pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The fear of every man that heard him was lest he should make an end. — Johnson. The Oratobt of Demosthenes. — He not only prompts to vigor- ous conduct, but he lays down the plan of that conduct ; he enters, into particulars ; and points out, with great exactness, the meas- ures of execution. This is the strain of these orations. They are strongly animated, and full of the impetuosity and fire of public spirit. They proceed in a continued strain of inductions, conse- quences, and demonstrations, founded on sound reason. The fig- ures which he uses are never sought after, but always rise from the subject. He employs them sparingly, indeed, for splendor and ornament are not the distinctions of this orator's composition. It is an energy of thought peculiar to himself which forms his char- acter and sets him above all others. He appears to attend much more to things than to words-. We forget the orator and think of 516 ELOQUENCE. [Part V. the business. He warms the mind and impels to action. He has no parade and ostentation ; no methods of insinuation ; no labored introductions ; but is like a man full of his subject, who, after preparing his audience by a sentence or two for hearing plain truths, enters directly on business. — Blair, i. 366. There is the speaker who has nothing to say, and who says it ; there is the speaker who has something to say, and who does not say it ; and there is the speaker who has something to say, and who does say it. The first riles (jne. It is provoking— considering the brevity of life— to have the time of a whole company wasted, its temper rufl3,ed, and its mind hardened against something good by such an impertinence. The second awakens a kind of pity. The heart must be hard indeed that is unmoved by an honest man— at least a man with no evil design — with knowledge or notions more or less vahiable, vainly attempting to get them out. ' One feela a compassion akin to that which a whooping-cough awakens. Tou can only stand by, helpless ; and if, in either case, you try a clap on the back, the chances are that yon do more mischief than good. The third excites a feeling of satisfaction, such satisfaction as one has in seeing a team well handled, and carried neatly round a corner, or a ship skilfully brought into hei; berth, or in watching a dexterous carver at the family table {mostly a lady) put a nice helping before every one, and yet appear to treat the noble bird with no rudeness, but rather with a sort of respec f ul tenderness that shrinks from disfiguring the form. There are speakers who are all introduction. They are always, coming up to their theme. It appears to be a kind of ignis fatuuH to them. They are perpetually nearing it, but " the faithless phantom flies," and they are shut off, or choked off, before they have overtaken it. Tou feel, in hearing, like the man who conscientiously believed he was to eat through the bill of fare, and who was weary but unsatisfied by the time he had got tl\rough the six kinds of soup at the top. Others are all conclusit.n. They have ' ' finally," and " once more," and " another re- mark," and "it occurs to them to add," and " before sitting down they wish to express," and in conclusion they have two or three " observations to offer." This is the modern substitute for the rack. It tortures one from the crown o£ the head to the sole of the foot. It goes to the very marrow of one's bones. You envy those who, unrestrained by fear or shame, can go out. You inquire mentally, Is this a free country ? You feel as the peasant must have felt, who stood by the river to cross-when the water had all flowed past; and when your fluent and gifted tormentor really ends, you are too exhausted to have a lively feeling of pleasure ; and yet the sickly signs of satisfaction you show at his having finished at all, he probably takes as a tribute to his powers. There is the gushing speaker. He has emotions "always on hand." His "Oh's" and "Ah's" fall like rain. He is a standing interjection. Sometimes he is violently enamored of everybody present. Even the doorkeeper hardly escapes. He singles out classes, and individuals, and tells the audience the particular kind of affection he has for them, its duration, and thej3ccasion of its birth. Such speakers are the "free-lovers" of the platform. They ought to be frowned upon. They use up the tender words of good- will, and do not leave a man phrases enough uurulgarized by their cheap emotion, un- smeared by their treacle, in which to express honest love to his wife, his friend, or his children. There is the pleasing speaker — dress faultless, words clean-cut, neat and select, no conviction to make any one uncomfortable— yon could not disagree with him if you tried. Chap. XXVI.] SPEAKERS. 517 The crystal streams with pleasing murmurB creep : but the man has sense enough to stop before — as in Fope^s lines — the hearer is Threatened, not in vain, with sleep. He makes a lovely " chairman," and is good at a presentation, and returns thanks with extraoidinary grace of words. The world is much indebted to the "pleasing" speaker. He lubricates the wheels of social life, and puts men in good temper. There is the gymnastic speaker. He acts all he says, and more. He is to be seen, like the dear little pets at table, rather than heard. His hands, his limbs, his walk, his running about, keep at least your eyes occupied. He gives some enjoyment to a certain order of mind, of the same kind afforded to children by the monkeys. So does the flashing speaker. He sparMes — without any needful connection between the gleams — any more than between the flashes of sheet-lightning. When he has made a reputation, the hearers wait and watch for the displays, and even discount them, and when he has burnt out there is no more impression left than by fire-works in the sky. " We have seen, admired, applauded ; now let us go home." There Is finally the heavy, generally sensible, speaker, who has ideas more or less clear or valuable in which ho believes, and manages, more or lei^s clumsily, to get out. Of this class of speaker, the writer knows little with certainty, for we do, as a rule, the least know ourselves Buc on general principles it may be confidently alleged that if one has thoughts — not imaginations or notions of them (which are to thoughts as clouds to a glass of water) — he is to be blamed if he does not take pains to overcome difficulties in the way of tittering them : for they can be overcome : and the hnman tongue, under proper management, is equal to the expression of all practical and really serviceable ideas. — John Hall. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Eloquence. Persuasion, p. 505. Adaptation, p 506. Special oai-e must be taken to exclude : a. Subtile and far-fetched considerations, p 507. 6. Subtile and pedantic language and imagery, p. 507. c. Considerations alien to the ways of thinking of the audience, p. 508. d. Considerations of too high a moral tone, p. 508. 6. Imagery, phraseology, and rhythm too rich, p. 508. The charactek of the speakek, p. 509. Vanity, p 510. Sincerity, p. 511. The funny man, p. 51'3. ' The objection to the humorous, p. 513. Moderation, p. 513. Pungency, p. 514. Lord Bacon's oratory, p. 515. The oratory of Demosthenes, p 515. CHAPTEE XXVII. ARGUMENT. Argument implies a point at issue, and will be more or less prominent in oratory according as tlie purpose of the speaker is more or less directed toward inducing his hearers to take certain action. Thus the lawyer's plea is intended to clear his client, and wiU be almost purely an argument that justice demands it ; while the after-dinner speaker, whose purpose is mainly to promote good feeling among those present, will avoid anything that might seem an effort to proselyte those present to views of his own. Compare pages 62, 67, 74. The division of the argumentative oration into parts is usually as follows : (I) The Introduction, (2) The Narra- tion, (3) The Proposition, (4) The Argument, (5) The Con- clusion. How prominent this division (or Partition, as it is often called) should be made to the hearer, is a matter of some discussion, but all agree that the analysis should be distinct to the speaker. If formal partitions give the sermon less of the oratorical ap- pearance, they render it, however, more clear, more easily appre- hended, and, of coui'se, more instinctive to the bulk of hearers, which is always the main object to be kept in view. The heads of a sermon are great assistances to the memory and recollection of a hearer. They serve also to fix his attention. They enable him more easily to keep pace with the progress of the discourse ; they 520 ARGUMENT. [Part V. give him pauses and resting-places, where he can reflect on what has been said and look forward to what is to follow. They are attended with this advantage, too, that they give the audience the opportunity of knowing, beforehand, when they are to be relieved from the fatigue of attention, and thereby make them follow the speaker more patiently. ... If his heads be well chosen, his marking them out and distinguishing them, in place of impairing the unity of the whole,- renders it more conspicuous and complete, by showing how all the parts of a discourse hang upon one an- other and tend to one point. — Blatb. On the other hand, Campbell remarks that the cohesion of the parts in a cabinet or other piece of furniture seems always the more complete, the less the pegs and tacks so necessary to effect it are exposed to view.* Cicero did not, as some have asserted, totally condemn the practice of announcing the partition. He only condemned such long ones as burden the memory of the hearers, and being so con- fined to them as never to indulge in a digression. Quintilian would have us always announce it. FSnelon's opinion concerning divisions is best expressed in his * This figure is need by Whately in another connection as follows : " It happens, unfortunately, that JohnBon^s style is particularly easy of imitation, even by writers utterly destitute of his vigor of thought ; and such imitators are intolera- ble. They bear the same resemblance to their model that the armor of the Chinese, as described by travellers, consisting uf thick quilted cotton covered with stifE glazed paper, does to that of the ancient knights ; equally glittering, and biilliy, but destitute of the temper and firmness which was its sole advantage. At first sight, indeed, this kind of style appears far from easy of attainment, on account of its being remote from the col- loquial, and having an elaborately artificial appearance ; but in reality, there is nothing less difficult to acquire. To string together s^ibataTitives, connected by coniunctions, which is the characteristic of Johnson's style, is, in fact, the rudest and clumsiest mode of expressing our thoughts : we have only to find names for our ideas, and then put them together by connectives, instead of interweaving, or rather felting them together, by a due admixture of verbs, participles, prepositions, etc. So that this way of writing, as contrasted with the other, may be likened to the primitive rude carpentry, in which the materials were united by coarse external implements, pins, nails, and cramps, when com- pared with that art in its most improved state, after the invention of dovetail joints, grooves, and mortises, when the junctions are effected by forming properly the extremi- ties of the pieces to be joined so as at once to consolidate and conceal the juncture." It may be suggested that there is in the Eastlake style a modern revolt against the ex- cessive concealment of the means by which the parts of a piece of furniture are made to cohere ; and that taste just now requires not only that a chair should be strong but I hat it should look strong, the sources of its strength being manifest. - CnKV. XXVII.] THE PARTITION. 621 comment on tlie partition above quoted. "When," says he, "we choose to divide a subject, we should do it plainly and naturally. We should make such a division as is all contained in the subject itself— a division which elucidates and methodizes the matter, which may be easily remembered, and at the same time help to re- call all the rest ; in brief, a division which exhibits the extent of the subject and of its parts. Exactly the opposite is the course of this man here, who endeavors to dazzle you at the outset, to put you off with three epigrams or three enigmas, which he turns and turns again so dexterously that you fancy you are witnessing some tricks of legerdemain.'' — Hebvey. Method. — It iaonly in the act of composition, and occasionally in the course of deliv- ery, that an arbitrary, mixed, or cryptic arrangement will often be wisely adopted. Of one of the czars of Russia, Dr. WatU relates that when he first learned the art of war he practised all the rules of circumvallation and contra vallation at the siege of a certain city of Lavonia ; and be passed so much of his time in mathematical approaches that he wasted the season for taking the town. Some never acquire a free method, because in their minds the subject is bound up with rigid notions o£ rhetorical unity. Thinking thus, they adjust almost all the parts of their sermons in such an order that the principal subject or proposition shall be continu- ally kept before the hearer. Their plans are apt to resemble the pine or fir, the main body of which grows straight up to the very top of the tree, while branches shoot out on its sides at regular intervals; and there are, it must be allowed, certain subjects, e.g., those of the argumentative and demonstrative kind, which sometimes derive considerable energy and gracefulness from the constant visibility of Lhe stem proposition. But still it is to be remembered that there is also a unity of amplification and of various applications. Almost all fruit-trees divide the trunk among the first branches, and sacrifice height and symmetry of stem, limb, and twig to that rotundity which exposes the greatest amount of fruit to the ripening weather and the admiring eye. It is, therefore, by keeping the util- ity of our sermon ever before us that we acquire the truest unity, and, at the same time, that art of deceiving art, of which Venantius Fortunatus writes. No man can methodize thoroughly well whose mind has not been disciplined to habits of sound thinking ; for " method," as Coleridge observes, " is a power or spirit of the in- tellect, pervading all that it does, rather than its tangible product." Nor is he likely to reduce any subject to a just method who has not a distinct, particular, and comprehensive knowledge thereof. But to learn to arrange a subject practically and popularly, we should add to all this much intercourse with men and considerable experience in public speaking. But is not an analytic mind necessarily lacking in force ? Believe it not. The ten- dency of method is exactly the opposite. By contributing to perspicuity and by reducing the whole subject to one view, it stimulates energy, sometimes to an extravagant degree. Massillon and Baxter were both analytic thinkers, and yet both wrote and spoke with a force that is Demosthenian. The latter studied the schoolmen chiefly, it would seem, be- cause of their acuteness and skill in methodology. " And though," says he, " I know no man whose genius more abhorreth confusion instead of necessary distinction and method, yet I loathe the impertinent, useless art, and pretended precepts, and distinctions which 522 ARGUMENT. [Part V. haTe no foundations in the matter." He somewhere says he never thought he understood anything until he could anatomize it. Method, therefore, as it belongs in germ and potentiality to the mind itself, so it is the most perfectly evolved by the most capacious ^nd cultivated minds. — Hebtet. So important is analysis, that the best writers re- commend its practice upon themes of all kinds, whether or not they are to be spoken upon. The young speaker will find it an excellent habit when in public assemblies of any kind to reflect upon what he would say if he were called upon to speak, however impossible it may be that he should be called upon. In this way he will acquire readi- ness in seizing upon a tangible thought and in putting that thought into presentable form, that will some time prove of service. It will also be found a most useful exercise for a beginner to practise — if possible under the eye of a judicious lecturer — the drawing out of a great number of such skeletons, more' than he subsequently fils up ; and likewise to practice the analyzing, in the same way, the composition of another, whether heard or read. — Whatbly. Above all things, in divisions take care of putting anything in the first part which sup- poses the understanding of the second, or which obliges you to treat of the second to make the first understood ; for by these means you will throw yourself into great confusion, and be obliged to make many tedious repetitions. You must endeavor to disengage the one from the other as well as you can ; and when your parts are too closely connected with each other, place the most detached first, and endeavor to make that serve for a foundation to the explication of the second, and the second to the third ; so that at the end of your ex- plication the hearer may with a glance perceive, as it were, a perfect body, or a finished building ; for one of the greatest excellences of a sermon is the harmony of its component parts, that the first leads to the second, the second serves to introduce the third ; that they which go before excite a desire for those which are to follow ; and, in a word, that the last has a special relation to all the others, in order to form in the hearers^ minds a complete idea of the whole. — Claude. (I) The Introduction is the last part to be com- posed. (See page 328.) The best authorities concur in the opinion that the exordium should not be chosen and planned until the princip^ tiiatter of the sermon be selected and arranged. This is in accordance Chap. XXVII.] THE INTBODTTCTION. 523 with Cicero's example and advice: " Quod primum est dicendulfl postremum soleo cogitaie." ("The last thing one finds out is what to put first." — Pascal.) Some forbid us to dream of the in- troduction until the rest of the discourse has been written. But Vinet thinks this mode of proceeding is not natural, as a good ex- ordium prepares the reader to compose, as well as the congrega- tion to hear. And yet he approves Cicero's method. If, however, we thus write our exordium, we are compelled to begin to arrange and to express those thoughts first which have occupied our thoughts the shortest time. Now, as a good exordium is confess- edly very difficult to compose, and the success of the sermon so much depends upon its beginning, it is but fair to allow the preacher the longest possible time for pondering its materials and for making such changes in them as the composition of the rest may happen to suggest. — Hbbvey. The rule laid down by Cicero, not to compose the introduction first, but to consider first the main argument and let that suggest the exordium, is just and valuable ; for otherwise, as he observes, seldom anything will suggest itself but vague generalities, ' ' com- mon" topics, as he calls them, i.e., what would equally well suit several difierent compositions; whereas an introduction that is composed last will naturally spring out of the main subject and appear appropriate to it. — Whately. Demosthenes and Cicero were in the habit of preparing at their leisure different intro- ductions to be prefixed to their extemporaneous orations, They thus secured variety at the expense of pertinence. That kind of exordium which might be adapted to several causes was in Quintilian^s time regarded with little favor, and was called vuloare, although he admits that it was not always avoided by the greate£;t orators. Some old rhetorician or other has compared such exordia to the sword used at the temple of Delphi, which served the double purpose of immolating the sacred victims and executing malefactors.— Uebvey. Sometimes the introduction may be omitted, the speaker proceeding at once to the matter in hand. Dean Swift, called upon to preach a charity sermon, was warned not to make it too long. So he chose for his text these words : "He that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto the Lord ; and that which he hath given will he pay him again." The dean, after looking around, and repeating his text in a more emphatic tone. 524 ARGITMENT. [Pakt V. added, " My beloved friends, you hear the terms of the loan ; and now, if you like the security, down with your dust." The result was a satisfactory collection. Let the student bear well in mind that the greatest possible diversity requires him occtisionally to proceed at once to the matter in hand. — And yet some brief premonition is almost always neces- sary, lest the people imagine, as Claude says, that the preacher is aiming to do with them what the angel did with the prophet, when he took^^him by the hair of the head and carried him in an instant from Judea to Babylon. — Hebvey. Conciliation is the main purpose of an introduction. The speaker shows a certain presumption in coming before an audience to occupy their time, and he must placate them by showing that he appreciates the privilege, and that his effort will be to do his utmost to justify it. Hence he should be moderate in tone and modest in man- ner. If he can make some happy allusion to the place and time, especially to what has just been said, or to some circumstance fresh in the minds of his audience, he will gain attention the more readily because he will seem to rely rather on his wit than on his memory. The exordium and the peroration are, according to Cicero, the two parts which are to be devoted to excitation. But Quintilian has made an important distinction as to the degrees of excitation which these two parts of a speech allow. "In the introduction the kind feelings of the judge should be touched but cautiously and modestly ; while in the peroration we may give full scope to the pathetic." . . . One principal object in an exordium is to gain andsecure atten- tion. Among the things that draw attention are reverence and modesty. Simeon advises his students to adopt such a tone of voice as they would naturally choose if they were spea;king to per- sons older than themselves and to whom they owed reverence. Vinet would have the preacher even timid, but With this distinc- tion of Marmontel, that he should be timid for himself but bold for his cause. Another way to make people give ear,is to set out Chap. XXVli.] THE NARRATION. 525 with, a popular saying, objection, difficulty, apparent contradic- tion, excuse or question, which is afterward to be disposed of. A fact or short narrative is sometimes sufficient to seize and enchain the minds of an audience. . . . Some are in the habit of for- mally asking attention. . . . The transition from the exordium to the proposition should be short and easy. For the reason that the matter of their introduction is either irrelevant or badly arranged, some preachers appear to leap a very broad chasm when they pass from their exordium ; and a written or printed discourse of theirs seems, when read, not unlike a temple from which the portico has been separated by an earthquake. — Hebvet. (2) The Narration (or Description, as it is some- times called), should be presented with all the art of in- tei'esting suggested in the chapter on this form of compo- sition (see pages 208 and following), but with this kept in mind, that the story is told not for its own sake, but to prepare the minds of the hearers for the proposition and arguments to follow. Hence only that need be told which will tend to make one's hearers prepared to hear the side one is about to present ; though often this will require a frank presentation of circumstances that are, or seem to be, of contrary tendency. (3) The Proposition usually precedes the Argu- ment, and is to be stated distinctly (see page 318). A proposition that is well known (whether easy to be established or not), and which contains nothing particularly offensive, should in general be stated at once, and the proofs subjoined ; but one not familiar to the hearers, especially if it be likely to be unac- ceptable, should not be stated at the outset. It is usually better, in that case, to state the arguments first, or at least some of them, and then introduce the conclusion, thus assuming, in some degree, the character of an investigator. There is no question relating to arrangement more important than the present. — Whately. • (4) The Argument should somethnes begin with 526 ARGUMENT. [Pakt V. refutation of the arguments of an opponent, or allaying of known prejudice on the part of the audience. Eefutation of Objections should generally be placed in the midst of the Argument ; but nearer the beginning than the end. If indeed very strong objections have obtained much currency or have been just stated by an opponent, so that what is asserted is likely to be regarded as paradoxical, it may be advisable to be- gin with a Eefutation ; but when this is not the case, the mention of Objections in the opening will be likely to give a paradoxical air to our assertion, by implyiug a consciousness that much may be said against it. If, again, all mention of objections be deferred till the last, the other arguments will often be listened to with prejudice by tho^e who may suppose us to be overlooking what may be urged on the other side. Sometimes, indeed, it will be difficult to give a satisfactory refutation of the opposed opinions till we have gone through the arguments in support of our own ; even in that case, however, it will be better to take some notice of them early in the Composition, with a promise of afterward con- sidering them more fully, and refutiug them. This is Aristotle's usual procedure. A sophistical use is often made of this last rule, when the ob- jections are such as cannot really be satisfactorily answered. The skilful sophist will often, by the promise of a triumphant Refuta- tion hereafter, gain attention to his own statement, which, if it be made plausible, will so draw off the hearer's attention from the Objections, that a very inadequate fulfilment of that promise will pass unnoticed, and due weight will not be allowed to the Ob- jections. . . . The force of a refutation is often overrated : an argument which is satisfactorily answered ought merely to go for nothing ; it is possible the conclusion drawn may nevertheless be true ; yet men are apt to take for granted that the conclusion itself is disproved, when the arguments brought forward to establish it have been satisfactorily refuted ; assuming, perhaps, when there is no ground for the assumption, that these are all the arguments that could be urged. — Whatblt. Chap. XXVll.] PRANKNESS. 527 Frankness in stating objections tliat are sure to be presented is always an element of strength. On the above principle, that a weak argument is positively hurtful, is founded a most important maxim, that it is not only the fairest, but also the wisest plan to state objections in their full force ; at least wherever there does exist a satisfactory answer to them ; otherwise those who hear them stated more strongly than by the uncandid advocate who had undertaken to repel them, will naturally enough conclude that they are unanswerable. It is but momentary and ineffective triumph that can be obtained by ma- noeuvres like those of Turennes's charioteer, who furiously chased the feeble stragglers of the army, and evaded the main front of the battle. Such an honest avowal as I have been recommending, though it may raise at first a feeble and brief shout of exultation, will soon be followed by a general and increasing murmur of approbation. Uncandid as the world often is, it seldom fails to applaud the magnanimity of confessing a defect or a mistake, and to reward it with an increase of confidence. Indeed, this increased confidence is often rashly bestowed by a kind of over-generosity in the pub- lic, which is apt too hastily to consider the confession of an error as a proof of universal sincerity. Some of the most skilful soph- ists accordingly avail themselves of this, and gain credence for much that is false by acknowledging, with an air of frankness, some one mistake, which, like a tub thrown to a whale, they sacri- fice for the sake of persuading us that they have committed only one error. — ^Whately. Objections to the view presented must not be un- dervalued (see page 64). On the whole, the arguments which it requires the greatest nicety of art to refute efifectually {I mean for one who has truth on his side) are those which are so very weak and silly that it is diflScult to make their absurdity more palpable than it is already. — Whatelt. Cicero tells us that he always conversed at full length with every client who came to consult him ; that he took care there ^28 ARG-TTMENT. [Part V. should be no witness to their conversation, in order that his client might explain himself more freely ; that he was wont to start every objection, and to plead the cause of the adverse party with him, that he might come at the whole truth and be fully prepared on every point of the business ; and that after his client had retired he used to' balance all the facts with himself.- — Blair. In former times men knew by experience that the earth stands still, and the sun rises and sets. Common-sense taught them that there could be no antipodes, since men could not stand with their heads downward like flies on the ceiling. Experience taught the king of Bantam that water could not become solid. — Whately. The Irish immigrant who wrote back to his brother to come over to a country where they had meat three times a week, was asked why he said that when he himself had meat every day. '* Faith, an' would ye have him belave me a liar intirely ? " he re- plied ; and his native wit did not mislead him ; he oould convince his brother best by making his statement credible. Prejudice is best overcome by showing that another view is preferable, without unnecessarily pointing out that the view now held is absurd. Of course it is not meant that a refutation should ever appear (when that can be avoided), insufficient; that a conclusion should be left doubtful which we are able to establish fully. But in combating deep-rooted prejudices, and maintaining unpopular and paradoxical truths, the point to be aimed at should be to adduce what is sufficient, ujid not much more than is sufQcient to prove your conclusion. If (in such a case) you can but satisfy men that your opinion is decidedly more probable than the opposite, you will have carried your point more efEectually than if you go on much bejond this to de- monstrate, by a multitude of the most forcible arguments, the extreme absurdity of think- ing differently, til! you have affronted the self-esteem of some and awakened the distrust of others. A French writer, M. Say, relates a story of ,some one who, for a wager, stood a whole day on one of the bridges of Paris, offering to sell a five-franc piece for one fi'anc and (naturally) not finding a purchaser. Laborers who are employed in driving wedges into a block of wood are careful to use blows of no greater force than is just sufficient. If they strike too hard, the elasticity of the wood will throw out the wedge. Some, perhaps, conscious of having been the slaves or tlie supporters of such preju- dices as are thus held up to contempt (not indeed by disdainful language, but simply by being placed in a very clear light), and of having overlooked truths which, when thus clearly explained or proved, appear perfectly evident even to a child, will consequently be etung by a feeling of shame passing off into resentment, which stops their ears against argument. They could have borne perhaps to change their opinion, but not so to change it as to tax their former opinion with the grossest folly. They would be so sorry to think they had been blinded to such an excess, and are so angry with Mm' who is endeavoring Chap. XXVII.] RIDICULE. 529 to persuade them to think po, that tboae feelings determine, them not to think it. — Whatelt. Hence the absurdity of the paradox that he who confesses a mistake merely shows that he is wiser to-day than he was yester- day ; the fact that a man was mistaken yesterday, so far as it shows anything, indicates that he is likely to be mistaken to-day. Ridicule is a most effective mode of refutation. Cleverly to burlesque an opponent's arguments will cover him with confusion. It was a just opinion of Gorgias, and approved by Aristotle, that the serious argument of an adversary should be confounded by ridicule, and his ridicule by serious argument. — Campbell. He (Sydney Dobell) sai'S : ■ ' To express is to carry out. To express a mind is to carry out that mind into some equivalent. By an equivalent I mean that product of an active mind which being presented to the same mind when passive, could restore the former state of activity." This seems to us to mean (if it means anything), that the full, verbal expression of any feeling — hate, for instance — would be such words as would arouse the feeling of hate in the mind that bad originally felt it. But as this feeling, according to Mr Dobell, is to be excited in the mind of whose active fi-eling it is an expression, it fol- lows that the only possible judge oE the perfect expression of a feeling is the person who expresses it, for he is the only one who can tell whether the words are adequate, to re- express the feeling in his mind. Thus the only possible judge of a poem is the author, a conclusion which will be eagerly hailed by mnny unappreciated geniuses. — Spectator^ July 1, 1876. Good Temper must be maintained under any pro- vocation (see pages 30, 77). It is not unfrequently the case that persons who are participat- ing in debate become flushed with irritation, and render ill-natured and splenetic replies to questions which may be propounded to them by a debater on the opposite side of the question to them- selves. This is exceedingly impolitic. If a speaker cannot pre- serve his coinposure when such interrogatories are put to him he ought to refrain from any replication to them whatever. For a mere ebullition of bad temper, without being armed with the prop- erty of superior wit or repartee, places the speaker himself in a disadvantageous point of view before his audience, and sheds an enervating influence 6n his cause. — McQxjeen. Logic is the proper criterion of argument considered 530 ARGUMENT. [Part V. in itself, and it is for Rhetoric only to apply and arrange the reasoning that logic provides. In general it may be said that the strongest arguments should come last, and that when circumstances make it necessary to put the strongest first, they should be recapitulated in reverse order. Of all rules it is most important to converge all one's power on the main point at issue. Ignore the non- essentials (see page 69), but let- nothing swerve your mind or that of your hearers from the strong point on which you rely. " Know your fact ; hug your fact." Indeed, in any composition that is not very short, the most fre- quent and the most appropriate kind of conclusion is a recapitu- lation either of the whole or of part of the arguments that have been adduced. — Whatbly. It is a weighty remark of Cicero that "it will be necessary to avoid letting it have the air of a childish display of memory ; and he will best keep clear of that fault who does not recapitulate every trifle, but touches on each particular briefly and dwells on the more weighty and important points." Quintilian advises us to vary and enliven our enumerations with difierent figures, and cites as an excellent example Cicero's oration against Verres : "If your father himself were your judge what would he say when these things are proved against you ? " and then enumerates the recapitu- lation. Maury is unsparing in his censure of enumerations such as were made in his day. He quotes in his favor the language of Cicero, who compares the orator that dryly and formally recapitu- lates to a serpent crawling round in a circle and biting his own tail. — Hbbvex. Unity is more important in oratory than in any other composition, yet it does not exclude occasional digression for legitimate ends. The imagination is eminently a weariable faculty, eminently delicate and incapable of bearing fatigue ; so that if we give it too many objects at a time to employ itself upon, or very grand ones for a long time together, it fails under the effort, becomes jaded. Chap. XXVII.] UNITY. 531 exactly as the limbs do by bodily fatigue, and incapable of an- swering any farther appeal till it has had rest. — Euskdj. The effect of disorder in reasoning is sometimes grand and over- whelming, like that of an army scaling the walls of a city. Kobert Hall's manner is an example of this. Foster compares his inde- pendent propositions to a number of separate and undisciplined He who knows not how to wander knows not how to explore ; and circumnavigators have changed the map of the world and greatly enlarged the domain of civilized nations, because furious gales swept them out of their course, drove them up and down, and finally wrecked them among the rocks of the unknown coast. "I have obsei-ved," says John Bunyan ("Grace Abounding,'' 287) "that a word cast in by the bye hath done more execution in a sermon than all that was spoken besides." "He wanders from his subject," complained some critic of the late English preacher, John Gualter. " Yes," was the reply, " he wanders from his sub- ject to the heart.'' . . . The regressions of Demosthenes are more frequent and more natural. Lord Brougham, commenting upon a passage of his oration on the Crown, thus draws attention to them, and at the same time contrasts them with those of Fox. ' ' Here is the same leading topic once more introduced ; but introduced after new topics and fresh illustrations. The repetitions, the enforcement again and again of the same points, are a distinguishing feature of Demosthenes, and formed also one of the characteristics of Mr. Fox's great eloquence. The ancient, however, was incomparably more felicitous in this than the modem ; for in the latter it often arose from carelessness, from ill-arranged discourse, from want of giving due attention, and from having once or twice attempted the topic and forgotten it, or perhaps from having failed to produce the desired effect. Now, in Demosthenes this is never the case ; the early allusions to the subject of the repetition are always per- fect in themselves, and would sufficiently have enforced the topic had they stood alone. But new matter aftei-ward handled gave the topic new force and fresh illustration by presenting the point in a new light." — Heevey. (5) The Conclusion (or PerpratiQp, as it is com- 532 ARGUMENT. [Past V. monly called) is so important that- even the extempoi-e speaker is advised to be sure of very nearly the language he vpill use. It is the part that remains in the hearers' minds, and that more than any other affords the basis for estimate of the entire address. Many a noble speech has been spoiled because the orator groped about for a place to stop, and failed to find it before he had disappointed and discomfited his hearers. It is observed by all travellers, who- have visited the Alps or other stupendous mountains, that they form a very inadequate notion of the vastness of the greater ones till they ascend some ot the less elevated (which are yet huge mountains), and thence view the others still towering above them. And the mind, no less than the eye, cannot so well take in and do justice to any vast object at a single glance as by several successive approaches and repeated comparisons. Thus, in the well-known climax of Cicero, in the oration against Verres, shocked as the Eomans were likely to be at the bare mention of the crucifixion of one of their citizens, the successive steps by which he brings them to the contemplation of such an event were calculated to work up their feelings to a much higher pitch; "It is an outrage to bind a Roman citizen; to scourge him is an atrocious crime; to put him to death is almost parricide ; but to crucify him — what shall I call it ? " So in the ideal address, as the speaker rises, the audi- ence look upon him with indifferent curiosity; they are attracted by his introduction, they are interested in his narration, impressed by his argument, and, finally, roused to enthusiasm by his conclusion. A famous preacher said wisely that if he failed to make the last part of his address more forcible than the first, he would go back and enfee- ble the first rather than have the audience dampened by an anti-climax. It may be worth while here to remark that it is a common fa,ult of an extempore speaker to be tempted, by finding himself Chap. XXVII.] THE CONCLUSION. 533 listened to with attention and approbation, to go on adding another and another sentence (what is called in the homely language of the jest "more last words") after he had intended, and announced his intention, to bring his discourse to a close ; till at length, the audience becoming manifestly weary and impatient, he is forced to conclude in a feeble and spiritless manner, like a half- extin- guished candle going out in smoke. Let the speaker decide be- forehand what shall be his concluding topic, and let him premed- itate thoroughly not only the substance of it, but the mode of treating it, and all but the very words ; and let him resolve that whatever liberty he may reserve to himself of expanding and con- tracting other parts of his speech, according as he finds the hearers more or less interested (which is for an extemporary speaker natu- ral and proper) he will strictly adhere to his original design in respect of what he has fixed on for his conclusion ; and that when- ever he shall see fit to arrive at that, nothing shall tempt him either to expand it beyond what he had determined on, or to add anything else beyond it. — Whatklt. The Will of the audience is to be influenced in the conclusion. The introduction appeals to their taste, and pleases ; the argument appeals to their understanding, and convinces; the conclusion appeals to their passions, and persuades to action. It is worth remarking, as a curious fact, that men are liable to deceive themselves as to the degree of deference they feel towai-d various persons. But the case is the same with many other feel- ings also, such as pity, contempt, love, joy, etc.; in respect to which we are apt to mistake the conviction that such and such an object deserves pity, contempt, etc., for the feeling itself — which often does not accompany that conviction. — Whately. We often appreciate the good, the true, the noble, when they inspire no impulse to contact. To say that it is possible to persuade without speaking to the passions is but at best a kind of specious nonsense. The coolest reasoner always in persuading addresseth himself to the passions 534 ARGUMENT. [Part V. some way or other. This he cannot avoid doing if he speaks to the purpose. To make me believe, it is enough to show me that things are so ; to make me act, it is necessary to show that the action will answer some end. That can never be an end to me which gratifies no passion or affection in my nature. You assure me "It is for my honor." Now you solicit my pride, without which I had never been able to understand the word. You say, " It is for my interest." Now you bespeak my self-love. " It is for the public good." Now you rouse my patriotism. " It will relieve the miserable." Now you touch my pity. So far, thei'e- fore, is it from being an unfair method of persuasion to move the passions that there is no persuasion without moving them. But it so much depend on passion, where is the scope for argu- ment ? Before I answer this question, let it be observed that in order to persuade there are two things which must be carefully studied by the orator. The first is to excite some desire or pas- sion in the hearers ; the second is to satisfy their judgment that there is a connection between the action to which he would per- suade them and the gratification of the desire or passion which he excites. This is the analysis of persuasion. The former is ef- fected by communicating lively and glowing ideas of the object ; the latter, unless so evident of itself as to supersede the necessity, by presenting the best and most forcible arguments which the nature of the subject admits. In the one lies the pathetic ; in the other the argumentative. These incorporated together constitute that vehemence of contention to which the greatest exploits of eloquence ought doubtless to be ascribed. — Oampbelu. Instead of exclaiming as Demosthenes ceased, " What an orator ! " his hearers would call out, " Up ! let us march against Philip." The one way to i-ouse the passion of the audience is to be thoroughly aroused one's self. "If you wish me to weep," says Horace, "you must first yourself be deeply grieved." But Vinet admirably remarks that Horace does not say the orator must shed tears in order to inspire them. His power is in the emotion he feels, not in the Chap. XXVII.] PERSUASION. 535 expression of it ; and he will affect his audience most by seeming to struggle to repress its manifestation. Shak- spere's art is nowhere more perfect than where he illus- trates this in the speech of Antony over the corpse of Csesar. It was remarked above that if the pathetic exceeds a certain measure, from being very pleasant it becomes very painful. Then the mind recurs to every expedient, and to disbelief among others, by which it may be enabled to disburden itself of what distresseth it. And indeed whenever this recourse is had by any, it is a sure indication that with regard to such the poet, orator, or historian hath exceeded the proper measure. — Campbell. The proper course for the orator to take is to excite the emo- tions of the hearers by means of images, and not to attempt to execute any images in the mind of the hearer by means of his emotions. For while some of the passions and sentiments appear to have the power to execute images in the mind independently of volition and the judgment, yet it should be considered that as the orator is necessitated to address the mind of the hearer in accord- ance with its common and normal operations, he cannot count upon this reflex art, which the hearer may indeed practise upon his own imagination, but which the orator cannot reasonably expect to practise upon it except incidentally and casually, and therefore with no uniform results.— Hervey. Sermons would probably have more effect if instead of being, as they frequently are, directly hortatory, they were more in a didactic form ; occupied chiefly in explain- ing Bome transaction related, or doctrine laid down in scripture. The generality of hearers are too much familiarized to direct exhortation to feel it adequately ; if they are led to the same point obliquely as it were, and mduced to dwell with interest for a con- siderable time on some point closely though incidentally connected with the most awful and important truths, a very slight application to themselves might make a greater im- pression than the most vehement appeal at the outset. Often, indeed, they would them- selves make this application unconsciously, and if on any this procedure made no impres- sion, it can hardly be expected that anything else would. To use a homely illustration, u moderate charge of powder will have more effect in splitting a rock, if we begin by deep boring, and introducing the charge into the very heart of it, than ten times the quantity exploded on the surface. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Division of the argumentative oration, p. 519. Prominence of the partition, p. 519. Importance of analysis, p. 523. 1. The intToducUon, p. 522. Sometimes omitted, p. 523. Conciliation, p. 524. 2. Tlie narration, p. 525. 3. The proposition, p. 525. 4. Ttie a/rgument, p. 525. Frankness, p. 527. Objections, p. 527. Prejudice, p. 528. Ridicule, p. 529. Good temper, p. 529. Unity, p. 530. 5. TM condusion, p. 531. Influencing the will, p. 533. CHAPTER XXVIII. EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING. Methods of Preparation for public speaking may be grouped under four heads. (1) Writing out the discourse, and then Heading it. Only by courtesy can this be called speaking at all. Its Advantages are : (a) It insures study. A man may talk at random, and never find it out ; but if he wi'ite his address he must have some connection of thought, and be led to some consideration. (b) It secures complete treatment. The man finds it most difficult to say what he wants to, who is overflowing with ideas that he has not thoroughly systematized. He that knows nothing of a subject can look up a few ideas and deliver them with much more effect than he that knows a hun- dred times as much of it, but is overwhelmed by the torrent of, thoughts that come surging for utterance. In writing his address the latter has opportunity to measure his words by the time at his disposal, and to portion out his moments according to the rela- tive importance of each subdivision. Sir Boyle Eoche, whose speeches have so long been a thesaurus to rhetorical writers of illustrations of rhetorical blunders, was not void of thought, even in the well-known instance of his inquiry, "What has posterity done for us?" He had a thought which was entirely logical to his purpose. It was that of the reasonable- ness of reciprocity of service. Probably be was driven into a. 538 EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING. [Part V. vacuity of thought by the burst of laughter -which followed, and which he met by explaining, " By posterity, sir, I do not mean our ancestors, but those who are to come immediately after." One of the aims of conquest in the mastery of extemporaneous speech is that of beating back the rush and trampling of thoughts which huddle themselves into these bovine forms of style. — Phelps. Thomas Bradley of the Sydney Legislative Council found fault with the newspaper reporters on the ground that they did not give the speeches accurately. Therefore they took great pains to re- port his remarks verbatim. The following is the passage : The reporters — ought not to — tlie reporters ought not to be the one.-' (a) Stress may be used (1) for Perspicuity, or (2) for Power. There are two principal kinds of emphasis, (1) emphasis of sense, (2) emphasis of force. Emphasis of sense is that emphasis which Ohap. XXX.] STRESS. 671 marks and indicates the meaning or sense of the sentence ; and ■which being transferred from word to word has the power to change the particular meaning of the sentence. In other words, it is the placing on the particular word which carries the main point of the sentence, or member of the sentence, the inflection due to such sentence or member, and giving weight or emphasis to such inflection : — the word so marked and distinguished is called the emphatic word. Thus, Did you reach home to-day? Did you reach home to- day? etc. Emphasis of force (or it might be called Emphasis of feeling) is that emphasis or stress which a speaker uses arbitrarily to add force to some particular word 'or phrase ; not because the sense or meaning intended to be conveyed requires it, but because the force of his own feeling dictates it. — Vandenhoit. (1) Sentences that depend for their meaning upon the selection of some particular word for stress are to that extent ambiguous, and should often be reconstructed (com- pare page xx). Kan in Chinese signifies at the same time the roof of a house, a cellar, well, chamber, bed— the inflection alone determines the meaning. Eoof is expressed by the falling, cellar by the rising in- flection. The Chinese note accurately the depth and acuteness of sound, its intervals, and its intensity. We can say "It is pretty, this little dog," in six hundred and seventy-five different ways. Some one would do it harm. We say: "This little dog is pretty, do not harm it." "It is pretty because it is so little." If it is a mischievous or vicious dog, we use pretty in an ironical sense. " This dog has bitten my hand. It is a pretty dog, indeed." Etc. — Delsaete. (2) Words which require marked stress of voice to show that they are emphatic should be avoided in speech, on the same principle that italicised words are avoided in print, and gestures are avoided in conversation. An in- telligent person shoi;ild be able so to construct his senten- 572 DELIVERY. [Part V. ces that the position of each word will indicate its relative importance. To italicise a word, to thunder it, or to mark it by a gesture, is like writing underneath a picture, " This is not a cow, but a rosebud." The picture ought to be painted accurately enough to show what it is without an inscription ; the sentence ought so to place the words that their force is inevitable. Sing-Song, or the repetition of stress at regular in- tervals, is a fatal defect in prose composition. (See chap- ter on Khythm, Part YI.) There can be no doubt that the school methods of scanning poetry, and of reading prose by punctuation, are directly produc- tive of this worst and most prevailing oratorical taint (sing-song). It is but rarely that a reader of poetry can be found whose voice is entirely free from this blemish ; and the habit of reading with a rhythmical regularity is speedily extended from poetry to prose, so that the expressive irregularity of prosaic rhythm is entirely lost in the uniformity of time to which the reader's voice is set. Like the pins in the barrel of an organ, his accents come precisely in the same place at every revolution of a sentence, striking their emphasis, at one turn, upon a pronoun or a conjunction, and, at another, impinging sonorously on an article or an expletive. 'Tis education forms the common mind ; JuBt as the twig is bent, the tree^s inclined. The little twigs in the grammar-school are sedulously bent into the barrel-organ shape, and pegged to play their destined tune by the systematic teaching of the school ; and when the tiny twig- bavrel has swelled into a full-grown cylinder, and rolls forth its cadences in far-sounding pitch, the old pegs are still there, strik- ing the old chords in the old way. — Bell. (b) Oral Punctuation is not only different from written punctuation (see page 256), but often directly at variance with it. The first principle of accurate punctuation is that the subject Chap. XXX.] PAUSES. 573 and predicate should not be separated by a grammatical pause ; the first principle of good reading is, that they should be separated by a marked suspension of the voice. So much value may we attach to punctuation as a guide to the reader. — HatiCOmbb. Ehetorical punctuation subdivides for the taste, the judgment, and the ear, and regards pauses as the means by which the hearer may follow and understand the reader or speaker, and the latter is enabled at such pauses or rests to supply his lungs with air by the act of inspiration, and so ensure clear tone of voice and distinct articulation in delivery. Ehetorical punctuation is a system which does not so much regard the actual duration in point of time of the various pauses introduced, as it does the places where, in reading or speaking, they may be propei-ly and effectively in- troduced. The shortest pause is necessarily introduced at the end of every oratorical word ; the middle pause at the end of any distinct part of a proposition ; and the longest pause at the termination of an important division of a discourse. The rhetorical sense, not the grammatical expression, determines the relative situation and length of each pause. Rules for rhetorical pause. Pause and replenish the lungs with breath : i. After the nominative, when it consists of several words, or of one important word. A pause after a pronoun in the nominative case is admissible only when it is emphatic. n. Before and after all parenthetic, explanatory, and interme- diate clauses. in. After words in apposition or in opposition. iv. Before relative pronouns. V. Before and after clauses introduced by prepositions. vi. Between the several members of a series. vii. Before all conjunctions ; and after all conjunctions which introduce important words, clauses, or sentences. via. Between all nouns and pronouns that are nominatives to a verb, or that are governed by a verb ; between all adjectives (ex- cept the last) which qualify a noun ; and all adverbs (except the last) which qualify either verbs, adjectives, or adyerbs. 574 DELIVERY. [Part V. ix. Before the infinitive mood, when not immediately preceded by a modifying word. X. Wherever an ellipsis takes place. xi. Between the object and the modifying word in their invert- ed order. .xii. Generally, before and after emphatic words. — Pltjmptbe. There is a line in " The Fair Penitent" which for many years was spoken by the most celebrated actor of these times in the following manner : West of the town — a mile among tlie rocks, ^ Two hours ere noon to-morrow I expect thee, Thy single arm to mine. It is a challenge given by Lothario to Hoi-atio, to meet him at a place a mile's distance from the town, on the west side, well known by the name of The Eocks. And this would have been evident had there been a comma after the word mile ; as : West of the town a mile, among the rocks, etc. I Whereas, by making the pause after the word town, and join- ing mile to the latter part, West of the town — a mile among the rocks — the ridiculous idea is conveyed that they had a mile's length of rocks to scramble over ; which made Quin sarcastically observe that they should run great risk of breaking their shins before they reached the appointed place of combat. — Shbeidan. The tongue punctuates as well as the pen. One day Samson, sitting at his desk, sees himself approached by a young man appa- rently pretty well satisfied with himself. " You wish to take reading lessons, sir?" " Yes, Monsieur Samson." '*Have you had some practice in reading aloud?" " O yes. Monsieur Samson, I have often recited whole passages from Comeille and Moliere," " In public ? ^ " Yes, Monsieur Samson." " With success?" " Well, yes, Monsieur, I think I may flatter myself so far." "Take up that book, please. It is ' La Fontaine's Fables.' Open it at ' The Oak and the Reed.' Let me hear you take a turn at a line or two." The pupil begins : "The, Oak one day, said to the Reed " Chap. XXX.] PAUSES. 575 " That's enough, sir ; you don't know anything about reading ! " " It is because I don't know much, Monsieur Samson," replies the pupil, a little net- tled ; '' it is precisely because I don't know mnch that I have come to you for lessons. But I don't exactly comprehend how from my manner of reading a single verse ^" " Read the line again, sir." He reads it again : "The Oak one day, said to the Beed " "There ! Tou can't read I I told you so ! '* " But ^' "But," interrupts Samson, cold and dry; "but why do you join the adverb to the noun rather than to the verb ? What kind of an oak is an oak one day ? No kind at all I There is no such tree 1 Why, then, do you say, * The oak one day, said to the reed ? ' This is the way it'should go : ' The oak, one day said to the reed.' You understand, of course ? " "Certainly I do," replied the other, a new light breaking on him. "It seems as if there should be an invisible comma after Oak." ' " You are right, sir," continues the master. "Every passage has a double set of punctuation marks, one visible, the other invisible ; one is the printer's work, the other the reader's."' "The reader's? Does he also punctuate ? " " Certainly he does, quite independently, too, of the printer's point«, though it must be acknowledged that sometimes both coincide. By a certain cadenced silence the reader marks his period ; by a half silence his comma ; by a certain accent, an interrogation ; by a certain tone, an exclamation. And I must assure yon that it is exclusively on the skilful distribution of these inseni-ible points that not only the interest of the story, but actually its clearness, its comprehensibility, altogether depend." — Legodve. iii. Gesture is the element of delivery which meets most criticismj and in which instruction is most neglected. Yet oratory has not reached its highest form (see page 534) when the speaker's feelings do not compel him to use gesture. The disgust excited on the one hand by awkward and ungrace- ful motions, and on the other by studied gesticulation, has led to the general disuse of action altogether, and has induced men to form the habit (for it certainly is a fonned habit) of keeping them- selves quite still, or nearly so, when speaking. This is supposed to be, and perhaps is, the more rational and dignified way of speaking ; but so strong is the tendency to indicate vehement in- ternal emotion by some kind of outward gesture, that those who do not encourage or ^ allow themselves any, fall unconsciously into some awkward trick of swinging the body, folding a paper, twisting a string, and the like. Of one of the Roman orators it 576 DELIVERY. [Past V. was satirically remarked (on account of Ms having this habit) that he must have learned to speak in a boat. The prejudice against gesture arises from its fre- quent use as a trick of manner instead of as an uncon- trollable expression of feeling. That the hand may deliver a truth in gesture, which the voice is enunciating, is most true. But it is just as tme that the hand is, so to speak, the mere handmaid of the voice, and should never ambitiously aspire to a parallel importance. It is the work of the hand in gesture, not to duplicate the whole work of the voice, but only at necessary points to reinforce the vocal utterance. Now, as not every point which is susceptible of gesture is necessary, to seek to add force by gesture is simply to weaken the effect of all ne- oessaiy gesture. Gesture, like all high appliances of force, must be charily used or it becomes powerless from mere common- ness. . . . The great gesture province lies where the fact or the thought, which has all along been burning before the glance of the orator, is to be squarely brought out and di-iven home. It is false elocu- tion, then, to anticipate or overshadow emphatic gesture, by any noticeable display of that which is purely subordinate, descriptive gesture. It is poor tactics to weaken the main battle by a too lav- ish development of the skirmishing lines. And once more, all gesture is but an outward, and at best im- perfect, symboliing of the inward emotion. Almost any gesture, opposed to rule though it be, is truthful and effective, if it only be spontaneously shot forth by the uncontrollable inward energy. No gesture, however artistically fashioned, and with whatever nice ex- actness overlaid upon the vocal delivery, has in it any truth, beauty, or power, if it be merely the studied product of the art, and not the natural outburst of the inward force. Hence, we do not think it extravagant to say, that no true elocu- tion for any person can be taught except upon the basis of simple, direct, earnest composition. Teach the pupil, first, to write it as he thinks and feels it, and then teach him its natural and effective de- livery, as thus thought and felt, and you will hit upon an enun- ciation and' gesture that. know how to do an honest work, and, still Chap. XXX] GESTURES. 57Y better, know how to keep their proper place. Aside from this, ordinary instruction in either can be useful, not as teaching the pupil what he is actually to use, or just where he is to use it, but as a means of habituating him, in a general way, to an easier and more natural use of his organs and powers ; so that, when- ever the true impulse comes, and either bursts out into action, what is spontaneous and earnest may not be crude, angular, and ill-fitted. — New England Journal of Education. Gestures have been divided into three classes: First, gestures of place, which answer the question, where ? Secondly, gestures of imitation, which answer the question, how ? Thirdly, gestures of emphasis, which show the degree of the speak- er's earnestness. Suggestions as to the use of gestures have been made on good authority, as follows : (1) Conceive as vividly as possible the things you would locate, and yield to the impulse of nature to glance or point in the direc- tion in which they are imagined to be. (2) Conceive as vividly as possible the action or scene described, and yield to the impulse of nature to imitate, being careful always to "overstep not the modesty of nature." (3) Yield to the inclination to strike or nod or bow for emphasis, being careful "in the very torrent, tempest, and whirlwind of pas- sion, to acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smooth- ness." (4) Avoid gestures for which you can give no reason. The Fundamental Rule for gesture is that it must precede the verbal expression of the thought it illus- trates. Gesture must always precede speech. In fact, speech is re- flected expression. It must come after gesture, which is parallel with the impression received. Nature incites a movement, speech names the movement. Speech is only the title, the label of what gesture has anticipated. Speech comes only to confirm what -the 578 DELIVERY. [PartV. audience already compreliend. Speech is given for naming things. Gesture asks the question "What?" and speech answers. Ges- ture after speech would be absurd. Let the word come after the gesture and there will be no pleonasm. Priority of gesture may be thus explained. First a movement responds to the sensation ; then a gesture, which depicts the emo- tion, responds to the imagination which colors the sensation. Then comes the judgment which approves. Finally, we consider the audience, and this view of the audience suggests the appropriate expression for that which has already been expressed by gesture. — Delsaete. How far gesture should be carried depends upon the speaker's power of dramatic feeling and expression. Few would interpret gesture as minutely as Delsarte, who makes distinctions like the following : " The deep voice witK the eyes open expresses worthy things. The deep voice with the eyes closed expresses odious things. . . . We understand the laugh of an individual; if upon e long, he has made a sorry jest ; if upon a long, he has nothing in his heart, and most likely nothing in his head; if upon a short, the laugh is forced. 0, a long, and oo are the only normal expres- sions. Thus every one is measured, numbered, weighed. There is reason in every thing, even when unknown to man. . . . "We can judge of the sincerity of the friend who grasps our hand. If he holds the thumb inward and pendent, it is a fatal sign ; we no longer trust him. To pray with the thumbs inward and swaying to and fro, indicates a lack of sacred fervor. It is a corpse who prays. If you pray with the arms extended and the fingers bent, there is reason to fear that you adore Plutus. If you embrace me without elevating your shoulders, you are a Judas." Mimicry is, however, below the dignity of the plat- form (see page 131) ; and descriptive gesture must be used with moderation. Many a speaker who is more cor- rect in his interpretation, is scarcely less ridiculous in his Chap. XXX.] GESTURES. 570 gestures than the boy, who lifted the skirts of liis coat, as he declaimed : Soon AS the evening phades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale. Finally, gesture, as an art, should be so practised as to be unconscious. The orator should not even think of what he is doing. The thing should have been so much studied that all would seem to flow of itself from the fountain. — Delsabtb. This principle has been carried so far that a hesitating awkwardness is sometimes assumed, to convey the impres- sion of extemporaneousness. Mr. Disraeli hesitated much, says the London Truth, like Ser- jeant Ballantine. Before bringing out some telling and well-pre- pared adjective, he would " er-er-er " for a minute or two, so as to make his hearers suppose that he was choosing between half a dozen words. And yet many of Mr. Disraeli's most effective speeches were learned by heart. He would give them to the Times repoi-ter before they were delivered, and although the re- porter followed the speech, pencil in hand, he seldom had to alter a single word, so excellent was Mr. Disraeli's memory. In reading your own discourses, your very derecte are your first requisites of success. They form a portion of your own individuality, A single in.ctance will make my mean- ing clear. Jules Sandeau asked me to read in public a charming reply which he had writ- ten to Gamine Doucet. '* I will do nothing of the kind," replied I. "Why not?" he asked, '• you read so much better." " Yes," was my answer, " but that particular piece of yours I should not read half so well ; your dipcourse is youiTclf . In reading it I certainly should not commit the faults thnt you will commit. I should not drop my breath at the last syllable. I should try to bring out the strong points with higher relief. But that unstudied attitude of yours I cnuld never catch, nor that indolent voice, nor that touch- me-not air, nor that easy-going indifference, all of which complete the effect of your words by producing your personality- -which are so charming in you, because they are so de- lightfully natural, but which would be absolutely displeasing in me as too unnatural, too studied, and too far-fetched. Tour discourse is a plump discourse, blooming and blond ; I should read it like a man who is thin, sallow, and dark. Kead it yourself." Snndeau believed me, and his succeFS showed him that I was quite right. But if he had read any one else's discourse in the same style as be read bis own be would be n traitor. — LRGojjvi. 580 DELIVERY. [Pakt V. THE ART OF READING. The following extracts from the celebrated treatise of M. Legouve, already often quoted, will suggest how truly delivery is an art worthy to be mastered. Let UR suppose a scholar who is mechanically perfect. Practice has made his voice even, agreeable, and flexible. He thoroughly understands the art of blending his medium, upper, and lower tones. He breathes imperceptibly. He pronounces distinctly. His articulation is sharp and clear. All faults in his pronunciation— if he had any — have been remedied. He punctuites as he reads. His delivery is neither hurried, jerky, nor drawl- ing ; and, what is very rare, he never drops his final syllables, so that every phrase is round and firm. Is he a finished reader ? No ; he is only a correct reader. He can, without tiring him- self or his hearers, read a political report, a scientific speech, a financial statement, or a legal document. All this is very well ; reading is thus brought to bear upon almost all the liberal professions, sO that it may rightly be ranked under the head of useful knowledge. But it does not yet deserve the noble name of art. To be worthy of that, it must ex- tend to works of art ; must become the interpreter of the masterpieces of genius ; only, in that case, correctness will not suffice — talent is also requisite. Prom La Fontaine's works I first learned to read. My master was a very clever man, almobt too clever in point of fact. He had a charming voice, which he used to excess; and he gave me two kinis of lessons, both equally beneficial to me, and by which others may profit as well as I ; ho taught me what a reader should do, and what he should avoid doing. On one ocoasi"n, when he was to read some of La Fontaine's fables at the Conserva- tory — among them " The Oak and the Reed" — he invited me to come and hear him, say- ing : ** You shall see how a reader who knows his trade presents himself before a large audience. *• I begin by glancing around the room ; my look, all-embracing, and accompanied by a very slight smilb, must be pleasant ; its objer-t is to collect the suffrages and sympathy of the audience in advance, and to fasten all eyes upon myself. I then make a little noise in my throat— hem ! hem!— as if about to begin. But not at all, not yet I No 1 I wait for perfect silence to be established. I then extend my arm, my right arm, curving my elbow gracefully— the elbow is the soul of the arm ! Interest and attention are excited: I give the title. I give it simply, without striving for effect — I merely act the part of a play-bili. I then begin : ' The Oafc^'' — my voice full and round, gesture broad and some- what bombastic ! I desire to paint a giant, who stands with his head in the clouds and his feet in the kingdom of the dead. " ' The Oak, one day, said to the Beed ' " Oh ! scarcely a morsel of voicd for the word ' reed.' Make it as small as yon can, poor leaflet ; mark its insignificance by your tone ; despise it thoroughly, look askance at' it I All this very low and faint — as if you saw it at a distance 1 " You laugh ! and you are quite right. And you will laugh still more, when I tell you that in the fable oC "The Monkey and the Cat," at the lines — " One day, our two plunderers watched by the fire Jlich, ripe nqts aroasting, with look^ of desire '*— Chap. XXX.] READING. 581 M. Febv6 rolled the r''s to imitate the chebtnuts crackling before the fire ! Yes, all this ia fiHiny, is absurd I And yet, at bottom, it is correct, profound, and true. It is true that a reader should never begin the instant he stands before his audience ; true, that he should exchange communicating glances with his listeners; true, that he should give his title clearly and simply ; true, finally, that he should represent and, as it were, paint his various characters by the varying tones of his voice — and if we suppress the exaggeration and afl'ectation resultant, we have an excellent and most useful lesson, especially in regard, to La Fontaine. A general impres.sion, now paired into a principle, declares that his fables are to be read simply. Certainly 1 but what do we mean by simply ? Do we mean—let us be plain — do we mean prosily ? If so, I say, No I a thousand times. No ! That is not the way to read La Fontaine; that is disfiguilng him. It is betraying, not translating him. La Fontaine is the most complex of all French poets. No other poet unites in himself so many extremes. No poetry is so rich in oppositions. His nicknnrae of good fellow, and his reputation for simplicity, deceive us. His character as a man leads us astray in re- gird to his character as a poet. Pen in hand, he is the most wily, ingenious, I may say foxiest, of writers. With La Fontaine, every effect is calculated, premeditated, and worked for ; and at the same time, by a marvellous faculty, every thing is harmonious and natural. All is artistic ; nothing artificial. A line, a wo'd, suifices to open vast hoi'lzons. He is an mcomparable painter, unrivalled narrator. His character- drawing is almost equal to that of Moliere himself. And can we suppose that all this may and can be rendered simply and straightforwardly ? Heaven forbid ! Deep study alone confers upon a reader the power of understanding and explaining even in imperfect fashion such profound art. Take, for example, the fable of " The Heron : " " One day — no matter when or where— A long-legged heron chanced to fare, With his long, sharp beak Helved on his long, lank neck." Every one must feel the triple repetition of the word " long " to be a picturesque effect, which must be duly given by the reader. " He came to a river's brink — The water was clear and still.'" These two lines cannot b3 read in one and the same way ; t' e first, pimple narrative in style, must be simply given. The second is descriptive ; the image must be vis.ble on the reader's lips, as on the writer's pen. " The carp and the pike there at will Pur-«ued their silent fun. Turning up ever and anon A gjlden side to the sun I " Oh ! you don't know your tr.ide as a reader if your gay, lively, sportive tone does not paint the antics of this frolicsome couple I *' With ease the heron might have made ' < Great profits in the fishing trade ; So near came the scaly fry They might be caught by the passet-by." Simple narrative style. "But he thought he better might. Wait for a sharper appetite," 582 DELIVERY. [Part V. Mark this ! here we get an insight into the bird's character 1 The heron ia a senBualiet, an epicure, rather than a glutton. Appetite is a pleasure to those of dainty stomach. Give the word appetite that accent of satisfaction always roused by the thought or sight of any thing pleasant ; we shall see directly how useful this slight hint will be. " For he lived by rule, and could not eat. Except at his hours, the best of meat." Second descriptive verse. The heron is an important personage, and respects himself accordingly. "■ Anon his appetite returned once more." The heron is quite satis-fied. " Approaching then again the shore, He saw some tench taking their leaps, Now and then, from the lowest deeps." A perfect picture I an admirable stanza ! It expresses that romantic feeling which all of us have experienced in fishing, when a fish rises slowly through the watei y veil, faint and vague at first, but growing ever more distinct, until it leaps to the surface I Paiat all this with your voice I " With as dainty a taste as Horace's rat. He turned away from such food as that," The character-drawing goes on. " What ! tench for a heron ? Poh I I scorn the thought, and let them go." Mark the A in heron well ; dwell on it — make it as prominent as his own long legs. *' The tench refused, there came a gudgeon. * For all that,' said the bird, * I trudge on.' " Here he laughs a laugh of scorn ! '• I'll ne'er ope my beak, so the gods please, For such menn little fishes as these. He did it for less ; For it came to pass That not another fish could he see ; And at last, so hungry was he," — Hungry ! Do you see the difEerence now between this word and " appetite?" Do you think La Fontaine nsed this neat, sharp little phrase by mere chance ? No longer an epi- cure, the very word is brief, pressing, and importunate as the want it expresses! Give all this with your voice, and also depict the sudden ending of the tale, scornful and sum- mary as a decree of fate : *' That he thought it of great avail To find on the bank a single snail 1 " READING- AS A- MEANS OF CRITICISM. After listening attentively to my thoughts and ideas on this subject, Sainte-Beuve said : " By your reckoning, then, a skilful reader is a skilful critic." ' '* To be sure," said I, *' you are closer to the truth than you gnefsed ; for in what, indeed, does the reader's talent lie, if not in rendering all the beauties of the works which he interprets? To render them properly, he must of course understand them. But the ftstonishing thing is, that it is his very effort to render them well which gives him a Chap. XXX.] HEADING. 583 clearer comprehension of them. Heading aloud gives a power of analysis which silent reading can never know." Sainte-Beuve then asked me to give him an example to illustrate my meaning ; and I quoted Bacine's famous speech on Corneille, which contains one passage specially re- markable, where he draws a comparison between the French theatre before and after Corneille. I had often read this passage to myself, and admired it much ; but on attempt- ing to read it aloud, I encountered difficulties which surprised me and gave me cause to reflect, The second part struck me as heavy, and almost impossible to render well. Composed of seventeen lines, it yet forms but a single phrase 1 Kob a breathing-place ! Not a period, colon, or even semi-colon ! nothing but commas, with clause succeeding clause, prolonging the sense just as you deem it complete, and forcing you to follow it, panting for breath, through all its endless mazes I I reached the end, gasping, but thoughtful. Why, I queried, did Racine write so long and labored a phrase ? Instinct- ively, my eye turned to the first part of the fragment. What did I see ? A perfect con- trast ! Seven sentences in nine lines 1 Exclamation points everywhere ! Not a single verb ! A disjointed, jerky style ! All was fragmentary and broken ! I uttered a cry of joy ; light dawned upon me ! Desiring to express the two states of the drama, he did more than describe, he painted them in words. To represent what he himself calls the chaotic stage of the dramatic poem, he employed a violent, abrupt, and inartistic style. To give a perfect picture of dramatic art as Corneille made it, he imagined a long and well-turned period, harmonious and cuncordant, — similar, in fact, in its labored arrange- ment to Corneille's own tragedies, — " Rodogune " and " Polyencte,"— in the skilful com- bination of situations and characters. This clew once gained, I took up the book, and re-read the fragment. Let any one read it accordingly, and judge for himself :— *' In what a wretched condition was the French stage when Corneille began his la- bors ! What disorder ! What irregularity I No taste, no knowledge of true dramatic beauty. Authors as ignorant as their audience, their themes for the most part extrava- gant and improbable, — no morals, no characters ; the style of delivery even more vicious than the action, miserable puns and witticisms forming the chief ornament ; in a word, every rule of art, and indeed of decency and propriety, violated. " In this infancy, or rather this chaotic state, of the dramatic poem in France, Cor- neille, having long sought the right road, and struggled, if I may venture to say so, against the bad taste of his age, finally, inspired by rare genius and aided by his reading of antique literature, produced upon the scene reason, but reason accompanied by all the pomp and splendor of which the French language is capable, brought the wonderful and the probable into harmony, and left far behind him^l his rivals, most of whom, despair- ing of ever keeping pace with him, and fearing to dispute the prize with him, confined themselves to impugning the plaudits awarded him, and vainly strove, by their words and foolish criticisms, to depreciate a merit which they could not equal." I think this proof decisive, this demonstration irrefutable It is evident that the ex- tract assumes an entirely novel aspect when read aloud. New light falls upon it, and the author's thought is made manifest. Shall I add that the very difficulty of reading this passage makes it an excellent lesson ? I know nothing harder, and therefore more profitable, than to carry to a successful close this terrible seventeen line-long sentence, without once stopping by the way, without seeming fatigued, always maiking by your inflections that the sense is not complete, and finally unrolling the whole majestic phrase in all its amplitude and superb suppleness. My studies as a reader were very useful to me that day ; and I inwardly thanked the art which, having given me a true understand- ing of this fine fragment, allowed me to reveal it to others. 584 DELIVERY. [Part V. But every medal has its reverse ; and reading aloud has ita disiUusionB. If it teachefl us to admire, it also teaches us to discriminate. Saints Beuve was right ; a reader is a critic, a judge ! — a judge to whom many hidden defects are revealed. How many sad discoveries I have made in this way ! How many books and authors whom I admired, — whom others still admire, — failed to resist this terrible proof 1 We say that a thing stares us in the face; we may, with equal justice, say that it strikes our ear. The eye runs over the page, skips tedious bits, glides over dangerous spots 1 But the ear heara every thing I The ear makes no cuts I The ear is delicate, sensitive, and clairvoyant to a de- gree inconceivable by the eye. A word which, glanced at, pas-ed unnoticed, assumes va'it jjroportions when read aloud.' A phrase which barely ruffled, now disgusts you. The greater the size of the audience, the more quick -sighted the reader becomes. An electric current is at once established between reader and audience, which becomes a means of mutual instruction. The reader teaches himself while teaching others. He needs not to be warned by their murmurs or signs of impatience ; their very silence speaks to him ; he reads their thoughts, foresees that a certain passage will shock, must shock them, long before he reaches it ; it seems as if his critical faculties, roused and set in motion by this formidable contact with the public, attained a certain power of divi- nation I TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Delivery. Necessity op study, p. 563. The opening sentences, p. 565. Points requiring especial attention : i. Pitch, p. 566. a. The loudness, p. 566. Unnecessary loudness, p. 567. b. The final words, p. 570. ii. Emphasis, p. 570. a. Stress, p. 570. 1. For perspicuity, p. 571. 3. For power, p. 571. Sing-Song, p. 573. 6. Oral punctuation, p. 573. i. Nominatives, p. 573. ii. Parenthetic clauses, p. 573. iii. Words in apposition, p. 573. iv. Eelative pronouns, p. 573. V. Clauses introduced hy prepositions, p. 573. Chap. XXX.] TOPICAL ANALYSIS. 585 vi. Members of a series, p. 573. vli. Conjunctions, p-. 573. viii. Nominatives and qvialifying words, p. 573. ix. Infinitive mood, p. 574. X. Ellipsis, p 574. xi. Inverted order, p. 574. xii. Emphatic words, p. 574. iii. Gesture, p. 575. Prejudice against gesture, p. 576. Classification of gestures, p. 577. Suggestions : 1. Conceive vividly the location, p. 577. 2. " " the action, p. 577. 3. Yield to the inclination to emphasize, p. 577. 4. Avoid gestures without reason, p. 577. Fundamental rule, p. 577. How far gesture should he carried, p. 578. Mimicry, p. 578. Pinal direction, p. 579. THE ART OF READING, p. 580. Reading as a means of criticism, p. 583. PAET VI. POETRY PART VI. POETRY. CHAPTEE XXXI. WHAT CONSTITUTES POETRY. I THINK notblng can be added to Milton's definition or rule of poetry, that it ought to be Himple, Beneuous, and impassioned ; that is to say, single in conception, abounding in sensible images, and informing them all with the spirit of the mind. — Colertdqe. Construction vs. Criticism. — Up to this point, the student lias been instructed how to perform certain functions of speech. To converse, to write a letter or an essay, to make a speech that, if not eloquent, is at least not discreditable — of all these things the student may learn not only what constitutes excellence in them, but how he may attain it. He has been taught not only how to criti- cise, but how to construct. But the poet is born, not made. Art may help him to realize his possibilities, but it cannot inspire them. It may aid the rest of us to recognize and delight in poetry, but it will not supply us with poetical conceptions. Hear what he (Macaulay) says in the introduction to his Essay on Dry den: "The man who is best able to take a machine to pieces, and who most clearly comprehends the manner of its work- ing, will be the man most competent to form another machine of 588 WHAT CONSTITUTES POETRY. [Part VI. similar power. In all the branches of physical and moral science which admit of perfect analysis, he who can resolve will be able to combine. But the analysis which criticism can effect of poetry is necessarily imperfect. One element must forever elude its re- searches ; and that is the very element by which poetry is poetry." It is the old story. The botanist can take the flowers to pieces, show yoTi the stamens, pistil, calyx, corolla, and all the rest of it, but can he put them together again ? Can he grasp or recreate the mysterious thing which held them together and made the living flower ? No ; the life has escaped his grasp. Now this quick life, this vivid impulse, this unnamable essence which makes poetry to be poetry — these learning, criticism, study, reflection, may kill as I have said, but cannot create. — Shairp. A modern poet, whose own experience and productions exemplified his words, has said : " A man cannot say, I will write poetry ; the greatest poet cannot say it, for the mind in creatinu is as a fading coal, which some irresistible influence, like an inconstant wind, awakens to transitory brightness. This power arises from within, like the color of a flower which dims and changes as it is developed, and the conscious portions of our nature are unprophetic either of its approach or of its departure. It is, as it were, the interpenetration of a diviner nature within our own ; but its footsteps are like those of a wind over the sea, which the coming calm ei-asas, and whose traces remain only on the wrinkled sand which paves it. Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds." . . For what is it that ia the primal source, the earliest impulse, out of which all true poetry in the past has sprung, out of which alone it can ever spring 1" Is it not the descent upon the soul, or the flashing up from its in- most depths, of some thought, sentiment, emotion, which possesses, fills, kindles it — ns we say, inspires it ? It may be some new truth, which the poet has been the first to dis- cern. It may be some world-old truth, borne in upon him so vividly that he seems to have been the first (man) who has ever seen it. New to him, a new dawn, as it were, from within, the light of it makes all it touches new. — Shairp. In the description of the Transfiguration, in St. Matthew, we are told that "Peter, James, and John his brother, were brought up into a high mountain apart," and that "a bright cloud overshadowed theni." Applying with becoming reverence that sacred scene, I would say that poetry is a transfiguration, wUich takes place only at a certain elevation, and during which those who perceive it are overshadowed by a cloud, but a cloud that is bright. . . Poetry is a transfiguration of life ; in other words, an imaginative representation, in verse or rhythm, of whatever men perceive, feel, think, or do. — Alfred Austin. The Importance of true criticism can be estimated only by those who recognize? its rarity. Destructive criti- cism — mere flaw-picking, usually based on ignorance or lack of sympathetic imagination— is unfortunately com- mon ; for it presents to the conceited a temptation almost CH,\.p. XXXI.] CRITICISM. 5S9 irresistible to vaunt their superior discrimination. But constructive criticism — the recognition of beauties that the usual eye has failed to see — is the chief element of a broad culture. Speaking of a certain essay on Shakspere by a Mrs. Montague, Dr. Johnson once said, "No, sir, there is no i-eal criticism in it ; none showing the beauty of the thought, as fouaded in the work- ings of the human heart." That word of the stern old critic well expresses what is the true function of his own craft, the only thing that makes poetic criticism worth having — when some competent person uses it to explain to the world in general, who really do not see far in such matters, those permanent truths of human feel- ing on which some great poem is built. For, after all, the repu- tation which attaches even to the greatest — Homer, Shakspere, and the like— depends on the verdict of a few. They see into the core of the matter, tell the world what it ought to see and feel ; and the world receives their saying and repeats it. — Shaiep. A newsi^aper account of poetic remodelling by a legal reporter is hardly a caricature. "Would you be kind enough to direct me to the editor?" asked a grave and venerable gentleman with a kindly face and pleasant smile. " He's out," responded the law reporter. "Is there anything I can do ? " " I am Dr. Holmes," responded the gentleman. " Where's your office. Doctor? Come to see about the diph- theria ? I can do as well as the editor. What is ib ? " and the law reporter braced himself. "Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes,'' replied the gentleman, his handsome face beaming with good nature. " I have a little poem I should like to submit. Shall I leave it with you ? " The law reporter took it and read it aloud. " You call it ' A Winter Day on the Prairie,' " said he, " h'm ; yes." A blinding glare, a silver sky, A sea of snow, with frozen spray ; Tho foaming billows swelling high, Updashed against the icy day. 590 WHAT CONSTITUTES POETRY. [Paut VI. White laden northern whirlwinds blow Across the pale sea's heavy breast, And fill the creamy ebb and flow With stormy teri-or and unrest. Tlie storm birds fly athwart the main Like rudderless, bewildered Bhips, The stranded winds breathe sobs of pain And fcosty froth fr-ira pallid lipp, The seething milky waves, in swift, Harsh struggles with the fate that binds Break into frozen rift and drift Against the wrecked and staining winds. A sea of loneliness and death i Whose waves are ghosts ; whose vales arc graves. Whose inspiration is the breath That lurks in northern Winter caves. A snowy gloom, whose icy shade Lies white beneath the spray tipped crest, Whose silver sombreiiess is laid A glaring pall across his breast. " Just SO, just SO," continued the law reporter. "Did you want this published as it is ? " "I had thought something of giving it publicity," replied the doctor. "You'll have to get the advertising cleric to register it, then,'' retorted the law reporter. ' ' I wouldn't take the responsibility of sending it in as it stands now." " What seems to be the matter with it ? " inquired the doctor. " I don't think it is natural. Now, here, you take a snow-storm on the prairie and make it a sea. Then you freeze it all up and make it dash around. You've either got to thaw it out or quit dashing it. We may be able to alter it so it will do if you'll leave it." " What alterations would you suggest ? " asked the doctor. '* I'd fix that first verse so as to be in accordance with the facts ; make it 'sequential,' as we say in law. Instead of having the blinding, and the silver, and the foaming billows, and the white laden winds, and the creamy ebb, and all that rot, I'd put it this way : In township thirty, range twenty-nine, Described in the deed as prairie land, It sometimes snows in the Winter time, As wo arc given to understand. Chap. XXXI.] CRITICISM. 591 This alleged snow falls on a level, It's said, some several feet or more, * And vfhen the wind blows very hard It drifts from where it was before. ' ' In that way, " continued the law reporter, ' ' you get the facts be- fore the public without committing the paper to anything. Under your poem any man who could prove you were talking about his land could bring a libel suit, and the measure of damages would be what he could have sold it for if you hadn't written it up as a sea." ' ' Will the other verses do ? " asked the doctoi'. " I'm afraid not," replied the law reporter. " This business about the storm bird without a rudder, and stranded winds and milky waves don't prove anything. They wouldn't be admitted in evidence anywhere. I suppose you want to express desolation, but the testimony isn't good. Why don't you say : In the place aforesaid, when the winds blow, The tenants thereof don't go abjut, And such birdK as find they can stand the snow, Look as though they'd had their tails pulled out. And when the said snow and wind had gone, It's found the said land finds a ready taker, For though you can't farm much when winter's on, The property don't fall a cent an acre. " There you get your desolation, and your birds, like rudder- less ships, and at the same time you throw in a clause which lets you out of the libel by showing that the snow don't affect the value of the ground. The way you had it you would have brought all the Western settlements down on us. Been a poet long ? " "I — I — that is, I begin to think not,'' gasped the unhappy doctor. " But can't you do something with the last verse ? " " We might leave that out altogether, or we might substitute something for it. The last verse is a contradiction of terms. It's a non-sequitur, as we may say in law, and could have no status in court in the event of an action. You can't say snowy gloom, or white shade ; and as for a glaring pall, I presume you mean the white velvet one they use for infants. I couldn't pass that in, but I might change it for you. How would this do : 592 WHAT CONSTITUTES POETBY. [Part VI. It iB rumored that while the snow Is on the land before described, It looks as though one couldn^t sow Seed to advantage, though this is denied. Some people hold that it empties the pouch To buy land in the Winter in the North ; For this unsupported statement we do not vouch, But give the story for what it is worth. " This, you see, gives all sides of the question, without making the paper responsible for anything. I call that a superior article of poetry," continued the law reporter, reading the three stanzas over in an admiring tone of voice. " But there isn't any poetry in it," stammered the doctor. "What'ti the reason there isn't?" demanded the law reporter, indignantly. "Don't it tell everything you did, and don't it rhyme in some places ? Don't it get out all the facts, and don't it let people know what is going on ? " "Of course it does,'' chimed in the police reporter. "That's what I call a good item of poetry. I think you might add start- ling developments may be expected, and the police have got a clue to the perpetrator." " That isn't necessary," replied the law reporter, loftily. "We poets always leave something to the reader's imagination." " I believe I'll go," murmured the doctor. " All right, sir. Come around any time when you've got some poetry you want fixed up," and the law reporter bowed the visitor out. Definitions of poetry abound. One of the best is the motto at the head of this chapter. Othei-s are as fol- lows: The most just and comprehensive definition which, I think, can be given of poetry is, " That it is the language of passion, or of enlivened imagination, formed most commonly into regular num- bers."— Blair. ■ '■> Poetry is the impassioned expression which is in the counte- nance of all science. — Wobdsworth. All poetry worthy of the name is "more intense in meaning and more concise in style " than prose. It is thought touched with imagination and emotion. — Shaibp. Chap. XXXI.] THE IDEAL. 593 As distinguished from oratory, poetry differs in its main purpose, which is not persuasion, but contempla- tion. Poetry, as poetry, has nothing to do with conduct and action. Contemplation is its aim and end. . . . What is the distinction between the highest eloquence and true poetry is an interesting question, but not one to detain us now. Perhaps, in passing, we may say that in eloquence, whatever imag- ination is allowed to enter is kept consciously and carefully subor- dinate to an ulterior object, either to convince the hearers of some truth, or to persuade them to some course of action. On the other hand, when in prose composition the whole or any part of it is felt to be poetical, the thoughts which are poetical appear to be dwelt upon for the pure imaginative delight they yield, for their inhe- rent truth, or beauty, or interest, without reference to anything beyond. If the writer is more intent on the effect he wishes to produce than on the imaginative delight of the thought he utters, it then ceases to be true poetry. — Shaiep. The Ideal is tlie constant aim in poetry, as the practi- cal is the constant aim in oratory. If it be true that Wc live by admiration, love, and l.ope, — that the objects which we admire, love, hope for, determine our character, make us what we are,— then it is the poet, more than any other, who holds the key of our inmost being. For it is he who, by virtue of inspired insight, places before us in the tmest, most attractive light, the highest things we can admire, hope foi-, love. And this he does mainly by unveiling some new truth to men, or, which is the same thing, by so quickening and vivifying old and neglected truths, that he makes them live anew. To do this last needs as much prophetic insight as to see new truths for the first time. . . . This is the poet's highest office — either to be a revealer of new truth, or an unveiler of truths forgotten or hidden from common eyes. There is another function which poets fulfil — that of setting forth in appropriate form the beauty which all see, and giving to 594 WHAT CONSTITUTES POETRY. [Part TI. thoughts and sentiments in which all share beautiful and attractive expression. This last is the poet's artistic function, and that which some would assign to him as his only one. These two aspects of the poet, the prophetic and the artistic, coexist in different proportions in all great poets ; in one the prophetic insight predominates, in another the artistic utterance. In the case of any single poet it may be an interesting question to determine in what proportions he possesses each of these two quali- ties. — Shairp. The Prophetic in poetry (to adopt Professor Shaii-p's distinction) is sometimes thought to be unreal, because it is imaginative ; but it has been well pointed out that it rests on the deepest truth — on the truth that underlies incidents of experience and is fundamental in human na- ture. (Compare page 235.) Aristotle says: "Poetry is more philosophical and worthy of attention than history, for poetry speaks of universals, but history of particulars.'' Of the same opinion was Sir Philip Sidney, who declares that it is a commendation peculiar to poetry, and not to history, to exalt virtue and to punish vice, to set the mind forward to that which deserves to be called good. "As if your journey should lie through a fair vineyard, at the very outset the poet doth give you a cluster of grapes, that, full of that taste, you may long to pass farther." Lord Bacon gave to the world, ten years later, an amplification of Sidney's idea in the words following : " There is agreeable to the spirit of man a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety than can be found in the nature of things. Therefore, because the acts or events of true history have not that magnitude which satisfieth the heart of man, poesy feigneth acts and events greater and more heroical ; because true history propoundeth the successes and issues of actions not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and more according to revealed providence ; because true history rep- resenteth actions and events more ordinary, and less interchanged, therefore poesy endueth them with more rareness, and more unex- Chap. XXXI.] THE ARTISTIC. 595 pected and alternative variations ; so as it appeareth that poesy serveth and conferreth to magnanimity, morality, and delectation. And therefore it was ever thought to have some participation of divineness, because it doth raise and erect the mind by submitting the shews of things to the desires of the mind; whersas reason doth buckle and bow the mind to the nature of things." — HjatVBy. The view which he (Aristotle) took was concentrated in the saying, that poetry is more philosophical than histoiy, because it looks more to general and less to particular facts. We should now express the same thing in the statement that, whereas history is fact, poetry is truth — Dallas. It is the prerogative of poetry to convey to us, as nothing else can, the beauty that is in all nature, to interpret the finer quality that is hidden in the hearts of men, and to hint at a beauty which lies behind these, a light " above the light of setting suns," which is incommunicable. In doing this it will fulfil now, as of old, the office which Bacon assigned to it, and will give some "shadow of satisfaction to the spirit of man longing for a more ample great- ness, a more perfect goodness, and a more absolute variety," than here it is capable of. — Shaibp. The Artistic in poetry has been well described by John Stuart Mill. He asked himself whether, if all the social ends he had hitherto aimed at were achieved, their success would really give him in- ward satisfaction ; and he honestly answered. No ! He then fell into a prolonged despondency, from which for a time nothing could rouse him. Almost the first thing which came to relieve this mental malady was the study of Wordsworth's poems, especially the Lyrical Ballads. In these he seemed to find the medicine he needed. Expressing as they did " states of feeling and of tliougM (x>lored by feeling under the excitement of beauty, they seemed to open to him a perennial source "of inward joy, and of sympathetic and imaginative pleasure, which could be shared by all human beings." This art of Wordsworth's is further explained by Pro- fessor Shairp : Pirst, he did not attempt to describe rural objects as they are in 596 WHAT CONSTITUTES POETRY. [Part VL themselves, but rather as they affect human hearts. [Compare pages 108, 245.] As it has been well expressed, he stood at the meeting-place where inflowing nature and the soul of man touch each other, showed how they fit in each to each, and what exqui- site joy ccjpies from the contact. Secondly, he did not hold with Coleridge, that from nature we "receive but what we give," but rather that we receive much which we do not give. He held that nature is a "living presence," which exerts on us active powers of her own, — a bodily image through which the Sovereign Mind holds intercourse with men. The same critic speaks in another place of the poetical element in Tacitns : But there is in him something more, something peculiarly his own, which is of the true essence of poetry — his few condensed clauses hinting all the sadness and hopelessness of his time, or the vivid scenes he paints so full of human pathos. . . . What man is, what he does, what he should do, what he may become, what he may enjoy, admire, venerate, love, what he may hope, what is his ultimate destiny, — these things are never absent from the thoughts of great poets, and that not by accident, but from their very essence as poets. Questions arise (1) as to whether all subjects are suitable for poetic representation, or only those that tend to elevate the mind ; and (2) as to the extent to which the purely subjective element is essential in poetry. (1) At the Peesent Day, there is vigorous discussion whether or not the low, the vile, the morbid features of depraved life are subjects of artistic description. We [Matthew Arnold and the writer] appear to go apart in this, that, whereas he affirms that poetry is a criticism of life, and the greatness of a poet depends upon how he has criticised it, I ven- ture to affirm that poetry is a representation of life, and that the greatness of a poet depends upon how much he has represented ; the poetic .manner being, in either case, presupposed. — AiiEred JUSTIN, CnAP. XXXI.] THE SUBJECTS OF POETEY. 597 You have in Bums's song what, in the language of logicians, I would call the "first intention" of thought and feeling. You overhear in it the first throb of the heart, not meditated over, not subtilized and refined, but projected warm from the first glow. . . . But what seems to me most characteristic in the poetry of the time is elaborately ornate diction and luscious music, expended on themes not weighty in themselves. . . . Wordsworth is reported to have said in conversation, that as a poet Scott cannot live, for he has never written anything addressed to the immortal part of man. . . . All contemporary poetry, indeed all contemporary literature, goes to work in exactly the opposite direction, shaping men and things after patterns self- originated (from within), describing and probing human feelings and motives with an analysis so searching, that all manly impulse withers before it, and single-hearted straight-forwardness becomes a thing impossible. Against this whole tendency of modern poetry and fiction, so weakening, so morbidly self-conscious, so unhealthily introspective, what more efieotive antidote than the bracing atmosphere of Homer, and Shakspere and Scott ? — Shaikp. Do the Faculty of Columbia College exercise any wholesome control over their stu- dents? Wise and severe restriction would seem to be- needful in many ways. We find, for instance, in the last number of that smart and lively semi-monthly magazine, called Acta ColUTnbiana, such stuff as the following so-called poem : Heavy with fragrant odors is the air, And ever as a soft breeze gently blows. It breathes the perfume of some blushing rose That it has kissed — some rich carnation rare. Upon whose bosom, crimson-flushed and bare. Has lain its head in odorous repose — And lightly fans my forehead ere it goes To die forgotten,- silently, somewhere. Somewhere ? Ah, love, since I have fondly pressed Thy scarlet lips to mine, and learned how sweet Thy kisses are— how fragrant is thy breath— This secret somewhere, how easily 'tis guessed 1 gentle breeze I if I were sure to meet Thy happy fate, rd gladly welcome death. Now, this style of thought and language is not suitable for any young man who is re- ceiving his education in Columbia College. That institution should carefully look after the literary taste as well as the morality of its students ; and here is one whose ideas are 598 WHAT CONSTITUTES POETRY. [Pakt VI. but exaggerated commonplace, whose inspiration is trivial and muslly, and whose literary culture is both shallow and pretentious. The faculty ought to sit down heavily on such a student. — N. Y, Sun. (2) The Subjective element, important as it is in poetry, must be used artistically, not morbidly. Byron, and such poets as he, when they express emotion, are wholly absorbed in it, lose themselves entirely in the feeling of the moment. For the time, it is the whole world to them. Wordsworth, and such as he, however deeply they sympathize with any suffering, never wholly lose themselves in it, never forget that the quick and throbbing emfltions are but " moments in the being of the eternal silence." They make you feel that you are, after all, encompassed by an everlasting calm. The passionate kind of lyric is sure to be the most universally popular. The meditative lyric appeals to a profounder reflectiveness, which is feelingly alive to the full pathos of life, and to all the mystery of sorrow. — Shaikp. shall I sonnet sing you about myself ? Do I live in a house you would like to see ? Is it scant of gear, has it store of pelf ? ' Unlock my heart with a sonnet key ? ' Invite the world, as my betters have done ? ' Take notice, this building remains on view, Its suites of reception every one, Its private apartments and bedroom too ; For a ticket, apply to the Publisher.' No ; thanking the public. I must decline. A peep through the window, if folks prefer ; But, please you, no foot over threshold of mine. ROBEBT BboWNING. The Language of poetry is iiistinctively different from that of prose (see 484, 572). Our poetical style differs widely from prose, not in point of numbers only, but in the very words themselves ; which shows what a stock and compass of words we have it in our power to select and employ, suited to those different occasions. Herein we are infinitely superior to the French, whose poetical language, if it were not distinguished by rhyme, would not be known to differ from their ordinary prose. — Blair. Chap. XXXI.] DIVISIONS OF POETRT. 599 Divisions of Poetry. — The following divisions of poetry are made by Professor Shairp. Lyhicaii Poetey is poetry in its intensest and purest form. A Ballad is a poem which narrates an event in a simple style, noticing the several incidents of it successively, as they ocoun-ed ; not indulging in sentiment or reflection, but conveying whatever sentiment it has indirectly, by the way the facts are told, rather than by direct expression. A Song, on the other hand, contains little or no narrative, tells no facts, or gives, by allusion only, the thinnest possible frame- work of fact, with a view to convey some one prevailing sentiment — one sentiment, one emotion, simple, passionate, unalloyed with in- tellectualizing or analysis. That it should be of feeling all com- pact ; that the words should be translucent with the light of the one all-pervading emotion, this is the essence of the tme song. Pastobal Poetey expresses the lives, thoughts, feelings, man- ners, incidents, of men and women who were shepherds, peasants, crofters, and small moorland farmers, in the very language and phrases which they used at their fu-esides. The subject of the Epic Poem must be some one, great, com- plex action. The principal personages must belong to the high places of the world, and must be grand and elevated in their ideas and in their bearing. The measure must be of a sonorous dignity, befitting the subject. The action is carried on by a mixture of narrative, dialogue, and soliloquy. Briefly to express its main characteristics, the epic treats of one great, complex action, in grand style, and with fulness of detail. — Thomas i^Nom. Other divisions, such as Dieseriptive, Eefleetive, Dra- matic, etc., will readily suggest themselves. TOPICAL ANALYSIS. What Constitutes Poetry. Construction is. Criticism, p. 587. Imjiortance of true criticism, p. 588. Definitions of poetry, p . 592. Poetry distinguished from oratory, p. 593. The ideal in poetry, p. 593. The prophetic in poetry, p. 594. The artistic in poetry, p. 595. Questions : 1. Whether all subjects are suitable for poetic representa- tion, p. 596. 2. To what extent the subjective element is essential, p. 598. The language of poetry, p. 598. Divisions of poetry, p. 599. CHAPTER XXXII. FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. Thb language of poetry is particularly characterized by the use of Figures. While these are not absent from orations, from essays, even from the commonest speech of daily life, they are essential to poetry, and may be there employed with a profusion that would weaken other forms of composition. ' The term Fiquke, called by the Greeks schema, and the Eomans figura, is thought by some to have been borrowed from the stage. The word schema and its derivatives were employed by Greek writers to designate the gestures and attitudes of the actors and the characters assumed by them. It is not uncommon in our own language to say of a person's dress or actions, "He makes an awkward figure," "He makes a handsome figure," "His conduct is out of character." It was therefore natural and suggestive to call any striking form of speech or turn of thought a figure. Now this idea may assist us in making such a definition of the term figure as will include the notion which the Greeks and Eomans expressed by the term. In spite of their own definitions, their practice shows that they understood by it any noticeable form or turn of language without regard to the question whether the word or words were changed from their proper, natural, or principal sense. They re- garded the striking peculiarities of diction as characters into which words, of whatever significance had been transformed. Wherefore they are termed by Cicero " attitudes of style." The Greek and Roman rhetors made a distinction between the trope and the figure. Modern writers on this subject have re- 602 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. [Part VI. spected this distinction, and yet have employed the latter term in so wide a sense as to embrace the idea of a trope. A trope is, ac- cording to Quintilian, the change of a word or phrase from its proper, natural, or principal meaning into another, in order to in- crease its force or to adorn style. This definition is faulty in sev- eral particulars. It ignores the fact that the most natural signifi- cation of a word may be tropical, and the word that is supposed to be turned from its primitive sense is perhaps turned in reality from a derivative one. The literal or origin al mea ning of a word is not always its proper and principal iippSrl;'.' JNor is it philosophical to say that one word can be changed from its own signification to that . of another ; for many words have several well-fiapwn senses. A word may indeed take the place of another, but it stands there for itself, and in one of its own significations. The moderns confine tropes to single words, while they consider figures, as belonging to words or phrases or sentences. The moBt philosophical and serviceable classification of figures is that which is made by Dr. Alexander Carson : a. Figures founded on resemblance, as metaphor, comparison, and allegory. 6. Figures founded on relation, as metonymy, metalepsis, synecdoclie, antonomasia, onomatopoeia, periphrasis, emphasis, insinuation, equivocation. c. Figures in which there is an apparent inconsistency between their literal and their flgiurative meaning. To this class belong irony, sarcasm, epitrope, oxymoron, " Hiberni- con, or the Irish trope," apophasis, synceceiosis, allusion, paradox, litotes, '-callida junc- tura," hyperbole, interrogation, "designation by opposite extremes." d. The elliptical figures. To this class belong ellipsis, aposiopesis, interruption, asyn- deton. e The pleonastic figures. To this class belong pleonasm, polysyndeton, repstition, parenthesis, epanorthosis. /. Figures of arrangement, as hyperbation, antithesis, and climax. g. Personification, apostrophe, exclamation, interjection. A. Grammatical figures. Change of cases, of tenses, of persons, of names, of numbers. i. Figures of a complex nature, as catachresis, euphemism, vision. — Hebvey. The Chief Figures are {a) Personification ; {b) Me- tonymy; (c) Synecdoclie; {d) Hyperbole; {e) Irony; (/") Simile ; {g) Metaphor. (a) Personification endows the lower animals and in- animate objects with the attributes of human beings. Thus : " I am glad, "answered the bee, ' ' to hear you grant, at least, that I came honestly by my wings and my voice." Sun Hope Moon Mercy Sea Wisdom Chap. XXXII.] APOSTROPHE. 603 The mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Perhaps the vale Belents awhile Co the reflected ray.— Thomson. It is clear that nature, who is undoubtedly the most graceful artist, hath in all her ornamental works pursued variety, with an apparent neglect of regularity. — BiiAXR. Exercise. — Give sentences in which the following words are personified : Time Spring Sleep . Winter Death Ship Apostrophe is personification of the second person, and addresses the inanimate as pei-sons, or the absent as present ; as " O Death, where is thy sting ? " Stirine of the mighty ! can it be, That this is all remains of thee f Apostrophe (Gr. aTrd, arpeipa)) means literally a turning off or aside, and the figure is so called because the writer interrupts the natural course of his narration or description, to address the ob- ject to which it refers. Exclamation is allied to Apostrophe. The figure of exclamation deserves a caution rather than a com- mendation. It is excessively used in the pulpit. Not only in the monosyllabic forms "oh!" and "ah!" but in the constructive forms, in which the whole sentence is made exclamatory, " How great!" " How important ! " "How solemn!" " Awful moment ! " "Fearful tidings ! " There is a style, which, for the freedom with which it employs such constructions, may be fitly termed the ex- clamatory style. It is veiy easy composition ; it is a facile way of beginning a sentence ; therefore we employ it excessively. It is a sign of indolent composing. Our enquiry, therefore, should be, When may we omit it? and our rale, to dispense with it whenever we can. Dean Swift commends a reader who said it was his rule to pass over every paragraph in reading, at the end of which his 604 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. [Part VI. eye detected the note of exclamation. Home Tooke denied that exclamations belong to language ; he said they were involuntary nervous affections, like sneezing, coughing, yawning. — Phelps. (b) Metonymy interchanges correlative terms, as when we transpose, (1) The concrete and the abstract ; as, the crown, for royally ; the sword, for military power ; Ccesar, for the sovereign power ; the/atoZ cup, for poison, etc., etc. Her Majesty, for the Queen ; His Impu- dence, for an impudent fellow ; etc., etc. (2) The effect and the cause ; as, drunkenness, for wine ; sunshine, for the sun ; gray hairs, for old age. (3) The author and his works; as, " I am reading SAaispere / " He is an admirer of Wordsworth. Metonymy literally signifies (Gr. /iei-d,' oi/o/ia) a change of name. (c) Synecdoche puts a part for the whole; && fifty sail ioT fifty ships. " Consider the Mies how they grow," where liUes is put for all iiowers, or for the whole vegeta- ble world. The part in the latter case is the species, and the whole is the genus. Synecdoche literally signifies (Gr. aw, «, Sexoixm) the under- standing or receiving of one thing out of another. The force of this figure consists in the greater vividness with which the part or the species is realized. (d) Hyberbole makes a statement more impressive by representing things to be greater or less, better or worse, than they really are. It frequently puts the whole for a part, and may then be regarded as the reverse of synec- doche; as. The whole city came forth to meet him. It may also appear in the verb ; as, The French fleet was annihilated, meaning that it was disabled. Hyperbole (Gr. inep, (SuXXm) literally signifies a throwing be- yond, an over-shooting. Chap. XXXIl.] lEONT. 605 The waves rose monntain-high. She shed a flood of tears. All Arabia breathes from yonder box. (e) Irony is the figure of real contradiction. Epigram means something different from what is expressed, Irony expresses the opposite of what is meant. It bestows praise in such a manner as to convey disapprobation. It professes belief in a statement for the purpose of casting ridicule upon it. Elijah's address to the priests of Baal is a memorable example of Irony : " Ory aloud ; for he is a god ; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth and must be awaked." Job, also, mocked his friends when he said, "No doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom will die with you." Johnson's letter to the Earl of Chesterfield aifords several examples of Irony — e.g., " To be so distinguished is an honour, which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive, or .in what terms to acknowledge.'' Ivony (Gr. fipmf, a dissembler), literally signifies dissimulation. It pretends to approve, in order to expose and ridicule. Epigram is the figure of apparent contradiction (see page 467). The primary signification of epigram (Gr. t-ni, ypaffxa) was an in- scription upon a statue ; the sense in which epigraph is now used. It was then applied to a short poem (a couplet or stanza) contain- ing a pithy or witty saying, generally at its close. Lastly, the name was applied to the witty saying itself, and hence to any say- ing characterized by wit and point. But the principal figures (or Tropes, to use a common term) are Simile and Metaphor. (f) Simile compares two things together, in order to shovv that they have qualities in common. To be effective the point of likeness should be (1) unexpected, and (2) ap' plicable to the thought conveyed, 606 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. [Part VI. Exercise. — Complete the following similes. Example. — Fortune is fickle as the wind. Fortune is fickle — . Man's life fleeth — . The enemy fought — . The world is likened by Shakspere — . The cultivation of the mind — . An evil conscience is like — . The seasons of the year, as well as the divisions of the day, appropriately represent — . Charity — brightens every object on which it shines. (I) Trite similes arouse no interest. What gives the principal delight to the imagination is the exhi- bition of a strong likeness which escapes the notice of the gener- ality of people. — Oampbelii. Among similes, faulty through too great obviousness of the likeness, we must likewise rank those which are taken from ob- jects become trite and familiar in poetic language. Such are the similes of a hero to a lion, of a person in sorrow to a flower droop- • ing its head, of violent passion to a tempest, of chastity to snow, of virtue to the sun or stars, and many others of this kind. — Blahs. Belittling Similes are still more to be avoided than those merely obvious. Thus : In one picture we see two lovers looking upon the sky ; poetical Augustus says, " Look, Edith ! how lovely are those fleecy cloud- lets, dappled over the — " Edith (not in a spirit of burlesque) re- plies, " Yes, 'xactly like gravy when it's getting cold — ^isn't it ? " The belittling may however be intentional, the effect aimed at resembling that of anti-climax (see page cxxxvi). You may conceive the difference in kind between the fancy and imagination in this way ; — that if the check of the senses and the reason were withdrawn, the first would become delirium, and the last mania. The fancy brings together images which have no con- nection natural or moral, but are yoked together by the poet by means of some accidental coincidence, as in the well-known pas- sage in Hudibras : The sun had long since in the lap Of Thetis taken- out his nap, And, like a lobster boiled, the morn From black to red began to tiim. — Coleridge. Chap. XXXII.] ADAPTABILITY. 607 (2) Adaptability is the principal test of the usefulness of a simile. Besides the recognition of it as just, there should be the further impression that it is pat to the occa- sion ; that it brings out the thought as no other expres- sion could. Figures are not the utterances of blind impulse ; they are rather in many cases the result of the mind's endeavors to illustrate the truth, and to prove from an appeal to the visible world that its ex- istence is both possible and probable. "Every metaphor," ac- cording to Cicero, " expresses the thing spoken of to the senses, especially to the eyes ; " and Seneca says that " by reason of human infirmity the teacher may by the help of figures bring into the very presence of his hearers those ideas which they could not otherwise understand." — Hbbvby. Thus the following simile shows too much efPort on the part of the author, and requires too much of the reader : It is not always easy to distinguish between beauty of thought and beauty of style ; and it will often be found that when this quality is attributed to a phrase, sentence, or paragraph, it is traceable to the thought or conception, or mental image, just as readily as a wing lying against the casement may be traced to the Carrier-pigeon that rests panting and weary on the window-ledge below. — Hervei. Melajphor Inconsistent. New stars have appeared and vanished ; the ancient asterisms remain ; there's not an old star missing. — Haceett. If they had been, they would not have been old. This, there- fore, like many of Lord Bacon's illustrations, has more wit than meaning. But it is a good trick of rhetoric. The vividness of the image per se makes men overlook the imperfection of the simile. " You see my hand, the hand of a poor puny fellow-mortal ; and will you pretend not to see the hand of Providence in this business J He who sees a mouse must be wilfully blind if he does not see an elephant." — Coleridge. The Marquis of Lome was welcomed to Montreal by the mayor, aldermen, and citizens. He delivered to them a formal, written 608 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. [PakT VI. response. Singularly enough, instead of telling them something new and instructive, or at least entertaining, he undertook to in- form them on a subject with which they might naturally be ex- pected to be more familiar than he. He assumed to tell them how Montreal sits ! And how did he say she sits ? He said : Your beautiful city eits like a queen. ^ Now the only queen that the Marquis of Lome knows anything particular about is Queen Victoria, his mother-in-law. But suppose he had said, " Tour beautiful city sits like my mother-in-law," how flat and ridiculous his simile would have sounded ! And yet we see that must be what he meant. Then, again, the comparison was not apt. He was anything but happy in his illustration. The Queen of England, the mother of numerous offspring, and the grandmother of a still more numerous progeny, has always been represented as very active — a busy body who seldom sits in one place any considerable length of time. Montreal is immovable, and always sits in -the same place. She doesn't sit at all like Queen Victoria, who sits in a chair, and once in a while on the throne ; but only a few minutes at a time. It would have been more appropriate to say : " Your beautiful city sits like a hen, " because a hen sits three weeks on the same nest ; or, still more correct, to say : " Your beautiful city sits like a goose," because a goose sits four weeks in the same place. Al- most any comparison would have been preferable to the one he employed. We doubt whether the marquis's mother-in-law will be pleased when she receives her copy of the Sun containing this reference to her by the husband of her daughter. — New York Sun. This patness will be best understood by examples. The following will, therefore, be a profitable Exercise. — Point out the similes in the following illus- trations, and endeavor to make the sentences equally for- cible without them : A prudent man is like a pin. His head prevents him from go- ing too far. Chap. XXXII.] SEffilLBS. 609 Make your bed as a coffin, and your coffin will be as a bed. — Jkbbomj. The world is as a cocoa-nut. There is the vulgar outside fibre, to be made into door-mats and ropes ; the hard shell, good for beer cups ; and the white, delicate kernel, the real worth, food for the gods. — JebeoiiD. Eomance and poetry, ivy, lichens, and wall-flowers, need ruin to make them grow. — Hawthoenb. A narrow mind cannot be enlarged, nor can a capacious one be contracted. Are we angry with a phial for not being a flask ? or do we wonder that the skin of an elephant sits uneasily on a squir- rel ? — Landor. A finger-breadth at hand will mar A world of lisht in heaven afar, A mote eclipse yon glorious star, An eye-lid hide the sky. — Keble. Did you ever hear my definition of matrimony? It is that it resembles a pair of shears, so joined that they cannot be separated, often moving in opposite directions, yet always punishing any one who comes between them. — Sydney Smith. He would as soon undertake to peddle jewelry at the door of a Friends' meeting-house. — Hebvby. According to the laws of sound didactics, the teacher is not only to let himself down to the capacity of the learner, but to re- member that the laws of the human mind demand that it should receive all instruction gradually, because, as Quintilian says, dis- ciples are like narrow-necked vessels, which reject a great quan- tity of the liquid that is suddenly poured upon them, but are filled with that which is poured into them by degrees. — Hbbvey. A man's character is like a fence — ^you cannot strengthen it by whitewash. — Camden Post. A young negro bootblack observed a neighbor poring wisely over a newspaper, whereupon he addressed him thus : " Julius, what are you looking at that paper for? You can't read." "Go away,'' cried the other indignantly ; " guess I can read; I'se big enuflf for that." "Big enuff!" retorted the other, scornfully, " dat ain't nuffin. A cow's big enuff to catch mice ; but she can't. " Frenchmen are like grains of gunpowder — each by itself GIO PIGTTRATIVE LANGUAGE. [Part VI. smutty and contemptible, but mass tbem together and they are terrible indeed. — Ooeebidgb. "Look at Northcote," said Fuseli; "he looks like a rat that has seen a cat." Daniel Webster struck me as much like a steam-engine in trousers. — Sydney Smith. "Why, look there at Jeffrey ; and there is my little friend , who has not body enough to cover his mind decently with ; his in- tellect is improperly exposed. — 7d. Florists say that a bouquet of flowers is never perfect without one yellow blossom in honor of the sun. So the expedients of rhetorical figure are incomplete without the interrogative. The instinct of earnest speech craves it, and will always have it, if the speaker's taste has not been perverted by false notions of dignity. — PhEIiPS. Unselfishness admits the full claims of all to love that is not preference. In discarding the opinion of a former time that, after all, every one had a right to be selfish, our age has made an ethi- cal gain as great as the intellectual gain which Newton brought to his age by the discovery of gravitation. Our Lord God doth like a printer, who setteth the lettera backwards ; we see and feel well his setting, but we shall see the print yonder in the life to come . — Luther^a Table- Talk. A beautiful simile. Add that even in this world the lives, es- pecially the autobiographies, of eminent servants of Christ are like the looking-glass or mirror, which, reversing the types, renders them legible to us. — Colebidge. The memory grips and appropriates what it does not under- stand — appropriates it mechanically, like a magpie stealing a silver spoon, without knowing what it is, or what to do with it. The memory cannot help itself. It is a kleptomaniac and lets nothing go by. — ^DaiiIiAS. If you had listened to it in one of those brief sabbaths of the soul, when the activity and discursiveness of the thoughts are suspended, and the mind quietly eddies around in- stead of flowing onward — (as at late evening in the spring I have seen a bat wheel in silent circles round and round a fruit-tree in full blossom, in the midst of which, as within a close tent of the purest white, an unseen nightingale was piping its sweetest notes) — in such a mood you might have half-fancied, half-felt, that her voice had a separate being of its own— that it was a living something, the mode of existence of which was for the ear only.— Coleridge. '' Chap. XXXII.] METAPHOR. 611 Again, a person who is more properly to be regarded as an antiquarian than anything else win sometimes be regarded as high authority on some subject respecting wldch he has perhaps little or no real knowledge or capacity, if he have collected a multitude of facts relative to it. Suppose, for instance, a man of much reading and of retentive mem- ory, but of unphilosophical mind, to have amassed a great collection of particulars re- specting the writers on some science, the times when they flourished, the numbers of their followers, etc., it is not unlikely he may lead both others and himself into the belief that he is a great authority on that science; when perhaps he may really know — though a great deal about it— nothing of it. Such a man's mind, compared with that of one really versed in the subject, is like an antiquarian armory, full of curious old weapi ns, many of them the more precious from having been long superseded ; as compared with a well- stocked atFenjil, containing all the most approved warlike implements fit for actual ser- vice. — Whatblt. Critics. — Sir Hem-y Wotton used to say, and Bacon deemed the saying valuable enough to be enteied in his bock of Apothegms, that they are but brushers of gentle- men's clothes ; Ben Jonson spoke of them as tinkers, who make more fauls than they mend ; Samuel Butler, as the fierce inquisitors of wit, and as butchers who have no right to sit on a jury; Sir llichard Steele, as of all mortals the silliest; Swift, as dogs, rats, wasps, or at best the drones of the learned woild ; Shenstone, as asses, which by gnawing the vines first taught the advantage of pruning them; Bums, as cut-throat bandits in the path pf fame ; Washington Irving, as freebooters in the republic of letters; and Sir Walter Scott, humoruusly reflecting the general sentiment, as raterpillars. . Critics have always had a strong cannibal instinct. They have not only snapp?d at the poeta ; they have devoured one another. It seems as if, like Diana's pi'iest at Aricia, a critic could not attain his high office except by slaughter of the priest already installed ; or as if he had been framed in the imjige of that serpent which the old legends tell Uf cannot become a dragon unless it swallows another serpent. . . . Hissing is the only sound in nature that can awaken no echo ; and if criticism is naught but hissing, can do naught but hiss, it is altogether a mistake. — Dallas. The old Geronomite in the Bscurial said to Wilkie, as he stood in the refectory gazing on Titian's picture of the Last Supper : " I have sat daily in sight of that picture for now nearly three-score years ; during that time my companions have dropped ofE, one after another. More than one generation has passed away, and there the figures in that pic- ture remain unchanged. I look at them till I sometimes think that they are the realities, and we but the shadows. — Id. (g) Metaphor is simile without the form of compari- son, one object being spoken of not as like another, but as another ; as, " Man, thou pendulum 'twixt a smile aud tear." « Metaphor is affirmed by some to consist in things, by others to consist in words. Aristotle comprehends synecdoche under the term metaphor. " A metaphor," says he, " is a transposition of a noun from its proper signification, either from the genus to the species or from the species to the genus, or from species to species, 612 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. [Part VI. or according to analogy." . . . These are illustrated by Aris- totle thus : A transposition from species to species is .such as The brazen falchion drew away his life ; and Cut by the ruthless sword. For here, in the first case, to draw away is used instead of to cut ; and in the second, to cut is used instead of to draw away ; since both imply taking something away. ... I say, for in- stance, a cup has a similar relation to Bacchus that a shield has to Mars. Hence a shield may be called the cup of Mars, and a cup the shield of Bacchus. One may therefore say that evening is the old age of day, and that old age is the evening of life. The metaphor and the simile often assist each other. The sim- ile may first point out the resemblance, and then as the discourse quickens its pace the words denoting comparison are thrown aside as a cloak of cumbersome weight ; or, on the contrary, the too swift discourse may slacken its pace in order to state the simili- tude which was before only implied, as if to gather the floating cloak more closely about the person, that the ranner may be more easily recognized. — Hervey. It is a remark of Aristotle that the simile is more suitable in poetry, and that meta- phor is the only ornament oE language in which the orator may freely indulge. They mny be employed either to elevate or to degrade the subject, according to the design of the author; being drawn from similar objectB of a higher or lower character. Thus a loud and vehement speaker may be described either as bellowing or as thundering. A happier example cannot be found than the one which Aristotle cites from Simonides, who, when offered a small price for an ode to celebrate a victory in a mule race, expressed his con- tempt for ' ' half-asses," as they were commonly called : but when a larger sum was offered addressed them in an ode as "Daughters of steeds swift as the storm.*" . . . We may say, e.g., with propriety that " Cromwell trampled on the laws ;'" it would sound feeble to say that " he treated the laws with the same contempt as a man does any- thing he tramples under his feet." On the ether hand, it would be harsh and obscure to say, " The stranded vessel lay shaken by the waves," meaning the wounded chief tossing on a bed of sickness ; it is therefore necessary in such a caso to state the resemblance. But this is never to be done more fully than is necessary to perspicuity ; because all men are more gratified at catching the resemblance for themselves than at 'having it pointed out to them. — Whately. This figure [simile] occurs oftenest in those kinds of poetry which most nearly resemble oratory, namely, the pafsionate. Mr. Gladstone has well observed that in frequency, length, and picturesqueness of similes the peaceful Odyssey is far behind the stormy Iliad. Instead of one hundred and ninety-four it has only forty-one, and these, with few exceptions, are, as Mr. Coleridge thinks, imitated from the earlier poem — Hebtey. Chap. XXXII.] METAPHOR. 613 The following are examples of forcible metaphor : Such themes given to composition pupils as, ' ' The praise of in- dustry," " The importance of youth," etc., are ostrich eggs, upon which the poor pupils sit and brood with their too short wings and make nothing warm but themselves. — Jean Pauii. The rude thought faculty which is not expanded into intelli- gence may be sharpened into cunning. — John Posteb. The ink of female logic is blotted all over with tears, and jus- tice in their courts is forever in a passion. — Thackeray. There's not a string attuned to mirth, But has its chord in melancholy. — Hood. Laughter and tears are meant to be the wheels of the same machinery of sensibility. One is wind-power, the other water- power. That's all the diflference. — Holmes. The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladies spend their time in making nets, not in making cages. — Swift. The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme. The young men's vUimi, and the old men's dream. — Drtden. For fear their orations should giggle they would not let them smile. — Fdelbe. A little boy ran away from home, and, while enjoying himself in forbidden fields, a thunder-storm came up, and it began to hail. His guilty conscience needed no accuser. Eunning home he burst into the presence of his astonished mamma, exclaiming breath- lessly : " Ma, ma, God's f rowing stones at me ! " But I will at least promise my readers that they shall neither find me so dictatorial in my statements, nor so bigoted to my own opinions as to hold myself above correction. If I offer them the rough quartz of my own digging, I shall rejoice if they extract the gold, even though they crush the ore to do so. — Blackley. As condensed similes, metaphors must escape triteness, of which they are in greater danger, because unconscious metaphor forms so prominent an element of common speeeh. The metaphor, by passing into common speech, degenerates into a literal term ; and the symbolic phrase comes at length to 614 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. [Paet VI. be debased into a trite and unimaginative idiom. The sUver coin, by daily circulation and occasional clippings, loses at last the image and superscription of Oassar. The angular fragment which some mad storm-wave smites out of the ocean, rolls down among the shingle, and there, in all weathers, runs regularly up and down the beach, along with its more poUshed acquaintances, until it be- comes as round and smooth as they. To the common observer its parentage is now a mystery ; but the curious summer stroller finds in its complexion and veins the unndstakable evidences of its ori- gin. — Heevey. Many English verbs are metaphors derived from the names or habits of animals. Thus we " crow over" a person, like a cock ; we " quail," as that bird does, in the presence of danger ; we " caper," as a goat (caper) ; we " duck '' our heads ; we " ferret" a thing out; we "dog "a person's footsteps; we "sneak," like a snake ; we " strut," like an ostrich (strouthos), and so on. In the following extract the words italicized are astrological terms now adapted and used without a thought of their original signifioanoe : I.sliould consider any enterprise undertaken under his auspices ill-starred and likely to end in disaster, and should augur most unfavorably for its success, if entnistpd in an evil hour to one of such sinister aspect and abo ninable character. — Blacklet. To these might be added : Jovial, mercmHal, martial, saturnine, in the ascendant, culminate, lunatic, etc. Pinsrs sometimes enter into metaphor ; as, It was the prejudice of an exemplary schoolmaster to prefer one slip of olive to a whole grove of birch. — Jbbkold. Even with this load upon it the metaphor may enter into ordinary speech. Thus the bank of the canal oppo- site the tow-path was by somebody's pnn upon " toe- path " spoken of as the " heel-path." The designation, being needed, was adopted, and is now used daily by boatmen, who never dream that its history embodies an idle gibe. Chap. XXXII.] METAPHOR. 615 Completeness is essential to effective metaphor: as when a very tall, lank man is spoken of as seven feet ste&p. Wolsey's metaphor is complete ■when he says that this is the state of man : " To-day he puts forth the tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms, and bears his blushing honors thick upon him ; the third day comes a frost, a killing frost, and, when he thinks, good, easy man, full surely his greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, and then he falls, as I do." Some care is accordingly requisite in order that they may be readily comprehended and may not have the appearance of being far-fetched and extravagant. For this purpose it is usual to com- bine with the metaphor a proper term which explains it, viz., either attributing to the term in its transferred sense something which does not belong to it in its literal sense, or, vice versa, denying it in its transferred sense something which does be- long to it in its literal sense. To call the sea the " watery bul- wark" of our island would be an instance of the former kind ; an example of the latter is the expression of a writer who speaks of the dispersion of some hostile fleet by the winds and waves, " those ancient and unsubsidized allies of England." Aristotle has cited several examples from Homer, as ' ' the rag- ing arrow," " the darts ectger to taste of flesh," " the shameless (or as it might be rendered with more exactness though with less dig- nity, the provoking) stone," Xaas dvuiSijt, which mocks the efforts of Sisyphus. There is a peculiar aptness in some of these expres- sions which the modern student is likely to overlook ; an arrow or dart, from flying with a spinning motion, quivers violently when it is fixed, thus suggesting the idea of a person quivering with eagerness. — Whately. In general, metaphors should reveal new beauties as they are more closely studied. But they should not be pressed too far in interpretation — a frequent mistake, especially in biblical criticism. They are intended to point out likeness in a certain direction, and it should not be inferred that the likeness extends to all qualities and characteristics. 616 FIGURATIVE LANGtrAUB. [Part VI. It hardly need be added that care must be taken to avoid ambiguous allusions. Thus : When a lady living in Chelsea sent to London for a doctor, she apologized fpr asking him to come such a distance., "Dpn't speak of it," answered the M.D., "I happen to have another pa- tient in the neighborhood,' and can thus kill two birds with one stone." Mixed Metaphors, or a combination in one figure of two different comparisons, are an especial danger to careless writers. Thus : I do not want to handle, to profane the leaves their winding sheets. I could as soon dislodge a shade. I seem to inhale learn- ing walking amid iheiv foliage. — Lamb. Here the leaves of the books in a library are first com- pared to the " winding sheets " of their authors, and are immediately afterward compared to the " foliage " of trees. Campbell points out that we may say with Dryden : All hands employed, the royal work grows warm ; but that it is incongruous to say, " One of the hands fell overboard ; " " All our hands are asleep." So we may speak of descrying a sail, but not of sails ploughing the main. A fanciful metaphor may be pushed too far, as where a reporter says : Winter has not yet departed, but is sitting tenaciously in the lap of spring. Similes may be spoiled in the same way, as in the fol- lowing paragraph from the New York Herald of October 28, 1883 : People build houses by putting all the carved freestone and Chap. XXXII.] MIXED METAPHOES. 617 costly embellishments on the front, and all the cheap brick at the back. Some characters are built in the same way precisely. Here the last word is intended to strengthen, but un- dermines the comparison. The following metaphor, pushed to absurdity, is from the New York Swi : It was the novel on the Land League, undertaken for a weekly paper, which was the last straw on the back of that exhausted lit- erary camel, Mr. Anthony Trollope. The following are instances of metaphor not complete enough to be obvious : A man's power is hooped in by a necessity which, by many experiments, he touches on every side, until he learns its arc. — Emerson. Channing's mind was planted as thick with thoughts as a backwood of his own magnificent land. — Gilpillan. Then 1 saw that one came to Fnseion, and brought him a bag of treasure, and poured . it down at his feet; the which he took up and rejoiced therein, nnd withal laughed Pa- tience to scorn ; but I beheld but a while, and he had lavished all away, and had nothing lett him but rags." — Bontan'b PilgrinCi Progreai. One of the not many instances of faulty allegory in the "Pil- grim's Progress ; " that is, it is no allegoiy. The beholding " but a while," and the change into " nothing but rags," is not legiti- mately imaginable. A longer time and more interludes are re- quisite. It is a hybrid compost of usual images and generalized words, like the Nile-born nondescript," with a head or tail of organized flesh, and a lump of semi-mud for the body. Yet perhaps these very defects are practically excellencies in relation to the- intended readers of the "Pilgrim's Progress." . . . *' And the other took directly up the way to Destiiiction, which led him into a wide field, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more." — Bdntan. This requires a comment. A wide field full of mountains, and of dark mountains, where Hypocrite stumbled and fell! The images here are unusually obscure. — Coleridoe. 618 FIGUEATIVB LANGUAGE. [Part VI. The following are examples of mixed metaphors : Coleridge quotes a ludicrous instance in the poem of a young tradesman : No more will I endure love's, pleasing pain, Or round my heart's leg tie his galling chain. "After lunch the benches were removed and Terpsichore spread her wings over the assemblage of ladies and gentlemen." Ob- viously this reporter was so modest that he did not like to make the customary allusion to the muse's light, fantastic toe, and so made her dance with her wings. Virginia has an iron chain of mountains running through her centre, which God has placed there to milk the clouds and to be the source of her silver rivers. — Govbbnob Wise. There, where Lhy finger scorched the tablet-stone. There, where thy shadow to thy people shone, — Bzboh. I need the sympathy of human faces, To heat away this deep contempt for things, Which quenches my revenge. — CoLBRiDGE. A charming old pedant in the country, on learning that a favor- ite pupil of his had been taken upon the staff of a Boston' paper, wrote to the editor-in chief concerning the young man : "If he should have a career I shall be very happy in thinking that the spark which I have watered contained in it the germ of a structure destined to soar and elevate with its radiance your privileged readers." He also advised the editor to " give the young man a hint that may quench the seeds of ambition ere yet they swell to a gale that will take the bits between its teeth and dazzle by its clamor."^ — Boston Courier. At length Erasmus, that great injured name, (The glory of the priesthood, and the shame I) Stemmed the wild torrent of a barbarous age, ' And drove those holy Vandals off the stage.- — Pope. "When the tongue goes upon stilts, reason spreads but half her sails. — Tholuck. " The Court of Chancery frequently mitigates and breaks the teeth of the common \s,vf. -^Spectator. Take arms agains.t a sea of trouble. — Shakspbbb. Chap. XXXII.] MIXED MBTAPHOES. 619 There is not a single view of human nature which is not suflS- cient to extinguish the seeds of pride. — Addison {quoted by Camp- bell). .The ethereal multitude Whose purple locks with snow white glories shone. "Purple locks and snow-white glories," these are the things the muse talks about when, to borrow Horace Walpole's witty phrase, she is not finely frenzied, only a little light-headed, that's all. — " Purple Locks."— Chables Lamb, to Colericfge. As late as 1860 he wrote to one who had observed symptoms more than usually redofeni of "the arrow of soft tribulations." — Lady Eastlakb, Life, of John Gibson. The buyer of a horse may find himself saddled with a worthless animal. — Comhill ifagazine, July, 1866. A very painful condition, to which my reading can find no par- allel except in the state of the old gentleman in "JSsop's Fables," who, in trying to please everybody, actually tried to carry his own donkey. — BiiACKiEY. If an individual can break down the safeguards which the con- stitution has wisely and cautiously erected, by ^oisorairegr the minds of the jury at a time when they are called upon to decide, he will stab the administration of justice in its most vital part. — Lobd Kenyon. In sentencing a butler convicted of stealing his master's wine, he thus described the culprit's conduct : " Dead to every claim of natural affection, and blind to your own interest, you burst through all the restraints of religion and morality, and have for many years \>eeTi feathering your nest with your master's bottles. — Id. The Force of simile and metaphor lies in the readi- ness of men to perceive and accept a comparison. How charmingly, however, did the poor woman reply to the gentleman who found her watering her webs of linen cloth. She could not tell him even the text of the last sermon. " And what good can the preaching do you, if you forget it all ? " " Ah, sir, if you will look at this web on the grass, you will see that as fast as ever I put the water on it the sun dries it all up, and yet, sir, I see it gets whiter and whiter." This is pure wit from the 620 FIGURATIVE LANGTTAGR [PAitt Vl well of the imaginatioiij and the simile is deep in it as truth. — Weiss. "What gives the principal delight to the imagination is the ex^ hibitiou of a strong likeness which escapes the notice of the gen- erality of people. — Campbell. The English public is not yet ripe to comprehend the essential difference between the reason and the understanding — between a principle andu maxim— an eternal truth and a mere conclusion generalized from a great number of facts. 'A man havinff se^n a mil- lion moss-rosee all red, concludes from his own experience and that of others that' all moss-roses are red. That is a maxim with him— the greatest amount of his knowledge .upon the subject. But it is only true until some gardener has produced a wh.te moss- rose ; after which the maxim is good for nothing. Again, suppose A'Sam watching the sun sinking under the western horizon for the first time; he is seized with gloom and ter- ror, relieved fay scarce a ray of hope that he shall ever see Lhe gloriou^ light again. The next evening when it declines his hopes are stronger, but still mixed \fl?ith fear ; and even at the end of a thousand years all that a man can feci is a hope and an expectatiitn so strong as to preclude anxiety. No v compare this in its highest degree with the assur- ance which you have that the two sides of any triangle are greater than the third. This, demonstvated of one triangle, is seen to be eternally true of all imaginable triangles. This is a truth perceived at once by the intuitive reason, independently of experience. It is and must ever be so, multiply and vary the shapes and sizes of triangles as you may.^- COLEBIDGE. Allegory is a continued comparison, or a composition in which the language is figurative throughout. Tlie Fa- ble and Parable belong to this class. In all these composi- tions, abstract truths are represented by sensible objects, or human affairs are described under the image of the conduct of the lower animals, and of the processes of na- ture. This also involves Personification. The Fable was regarded by Aristotle as quite different from the Parable. He tanght that there are two kinds of examples, the parable and the "logos." The latter is the fable, "like those of ^sop, and the African stories." But this difference is owing to his having considered the parable as a case supposed, and not, as we do, a fictitious narrative. , , ^^ , ^ The chief distinguishing features of the fable are as follows : 1. In the fable the Ciualities and actions of men may often be attributed to bfutea. 3. The fable is further distinguished from the Christian parable by occasionally in- dulging Itself in raillery and revenge. In one old Greek fable, a vine says to a he-goat, ** Though you eat me down to the root yet I will yield wine enough to pour upon your )iead when you are sacrificed/' Chap. XKXlt] ALLE601iY. 621 3. The fable is more commonly than the parable devoted to the inculcation of ethical precepts and prudential maxims. Herder divides fables into three kinds : I*. Theoretic, or such as are intended to form the understanding; e.g., of the dog snapping at his shadow in the water, the lamb reasoning with the wolf, or the hare hunting with the lion. Fables like these are designed to inculcate the miixims of secular wisdom. 6, Moral, or those which contain rules for the regulation of the conscience and will ; as, "Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wi.se." Here we learn that the happiness of all living creatures is connected with well-dii-ected activity. i^. Fables of destiny. As we do not always see the connection of cause and efEect, we often call that the effect of fate or chance which befalls us according to the secret pur- pose of God; e.g., the eagle carries with her plunder a coal from the altar, which sets fire to her nest, and so her unfledged brood becomes the prey of animals which she has al- ready robbed of their young. d. Some ethnic fables inculcate religions duties ; e.g., in the fable which represents the wagoner praying to Jupiter to lift his wagon out of the mud. The fable suffers more than any other figure from an incongru- ity. Thus Matthew Arnold, in discussing the question whether the Church of England ought to be disestablished, says of the cry of the Nonconformists that it is "a little like that proposal of the fox who had lost his own tail to put all the other foxes in the same boat by a general cutting off of tails." The figurative phrase " in the same boat " introduces an image remote from the fable and ridiculous in itself. The effect of such incongruities on the mind is not unlike the impression made on the eye and the fancy by putting into a magic-lantern two pictures at a time and side by side. — Hebvey. The danger in using figures of all kinds is that they will be employed for themselves, because they are orna- mental or striking, and not because they best express the thought. The more apt and striking is the analogy suggested, the more will it have of an artificial appearance, and will draw off the read- er's attention from the subject to admire the ingenuity displayed in the style. Young writers of genius ought especially to ask themselves frequently, not whether this or that is a striking ex- pression, but whether it makes the, meaning more striking than another phrase would — whether it impresses more forcibly the sen- timent to be conveyed. — Whatelt. 622 FIGTJBATIVE LANGUAGE. [Pabt VI. Another cause of obscurity in the use of imagery is an excess of imagery. This may obscure the meaning by exaggeration.^ It may produce the same effect by overloading a thought. Imagery not needed to illustrate a thought must tend to cover it fi-om the hearer's sight. A hearer's power of perception may be impaired by it through mental weariness. Few things are so wearisome to the brain as a rapid review of a gallery of paintings. Aside from weariness of the eye, there is an expenditure of thought in that which the spectator must supply by his own imagination, An ex- cessively pictorial style makes a similar demand, and produces a similar effect. Mental weariness thus induced diminishes the clearness of a hearer's perception. Such a discourse, therefore, lives in his memory only as a jumble of pictures. . . . Excess of imagery is most hurtful when no imagery is needed. Take the. following, from John Quincy Adams. His thought is this, that scientists have been obliged to, coin nomenclatures from the Greek language. This is a pure fact in philology. In a lit- eral statement it is perfectly clea,r ; it needs no pictorial represen- tation. But Mr. Adams vaults into the imaginative saddle in this style : The sexual combinELlions of LinnEeus, and the chemical Reparations of Lavoisier, are alike exhibited in Greek attire. The loves of the plants mnkt murmur in the same dia- lect which alone can sound the dirge over the dissolution of water. Neither the nuptials of the bloflsom, nor the generation of the gas, can bo accomplished but under Grecian names. The marriage and the divorce, the generation and the destruction, have found no name by which they could walk the world, without having recourse to the language of Demosthenes and Homer. — Phelps. HencGj some writers speak disdainfully of figures ; and others, who admit their power, advise the neglect of them on the ground of their danger. A new metaphor (and the same holds, though in a lower degree, of every trope) is never ^regarded wim indifference. ' If it be not a beauty, it is a blemish. — Campbell. But the young author may adopt this instrument of rhe- toric as freely as any other, if he will rigorously hold by the fundamental principle of all good writing, that the Chap. XXXII.] tTSE OP FIGURES. 623 most perfect expression of the writer's exact thought is the one aim to be kept in view, and that- all means that help to attain this end are as conscientiously to be em- ployed, as all means that obscure it are to be discarded. Plutarch says that the most of those who are delighted with figures are the childish and the sensual. Such early writers as Aristotle have favored the neglect of figures by confining their chief attention to the simile and the metaphor, while such later rhetoricians as Hermogenes have confused and wearied their pu- pils with over nice distinctions. Many authors have made the whole subject still more distasteful by uniformly quoting their ex- amples of figures from the poets, thus conveying the impression that these forms of style are only suitable to poets. We need not wonder, therefore, that able writers on rhetoric still quote with admiration the epigram Ausonius wrote under the portrait of the rhetorician Kufus : Ipse rhetor, est imago imaginis. ' For all a rhetorician's rules " Teach nothing but to name his toolB,— Btjtlbb. But a rhetorician's rules teach a man also what to do with his materials, and how to use his tools. Then, just as if it were of no use for a mechanic to have a name for his tools, and so keep them in their place and be able to call for them when wanted. Arch- bishop Whately and his disciples have, both by precept and ex- ample, opened the mine of figures only to close it and conceal it forever after. Mr. Henry Eogers, the reviewer, says truly of their style, that "of all its characteristics the most striking and the most general is the moderate use of the imagination." . . . Cicero compares the use of figures to the exercises of the paliES- tra. As those who study fencing and polite exercises not only think it necessary to acquire skill in parrying and striking, but also grace and elegance of motion, so the orator must use such words as not only contribute to elegance, but also to impressive- ness. To the same purpose Quintilian says : "Figures penetrate imperceptibly into the mind of the judge. Indeed, as in a passage of arms, it is easy to see, parry, and ward off direct and undis- guised strokes, while side-blows and feints are less observable ; and as it is a proof of art to aim at one part when you intend to hit 624 flGURAfiVB LANatTA(JE. [PaktVI. another, so that kind of oratory which is free from artifice cijn fight only with its own mere weight and force ; but that ld4d which disguises and varies its attacks can assail the flank or rear of an enemy, can turn aside his weapons and deceive him, as it were, with a nod." . . . Lord Ka,mes has said that in expressing any severe passion that wholly occupies the mind, metaphor is improper. He seems to have overlooked the fact that metaphor is the natural and sponta- neous language of the all-absorbing passions. His lordship would have been neajer right if he had applied his rule to the proper use of allegories, or other long trains of implied resemblances. Dr. Carson is hardly less wrong when he aflSrms that, with few exceptions, grief, despair, or any of the dispiriting passions is seldom found to employ this figure. The book and lamentations of Jeremiah make short work with this theory. Some rhetoricians advise us never to make use of the same word to express metaphorically opposite ideas. Others, discussijhg the subject philosophically, claim to have discovered that all msjn- kind make metaphors according to certain universal laws. Thiis, Eiohter has observed that no nation calls error light, and trttjih darkness. But it should be remembered that, as Glassius has in- dicated, the many different qualities and attributes of the same object may be used to convey metaphorically many diverse ideas. Christ is called a Hon, and so is Satan. Sleep expresses at once the hopeful repose of the blessed dead, and the false security of sinners. The sun denotes happiness and unhappiness. A shadow signifies protection ; also great perils and adversities. A river de- notes plenty of blessings ; it likewise expresses terrors and over- whelming evils. The harvest is used in both a good and a bad sense. — flKBVET. HOW THEY PLAY THE PIANO IN NEW ORLEANS. *' I was loafing around the ptreets last night," said Jim Nelson, one of the oldest loco- motive engineers running into New Orleans, "and as I had nothing: to do I dropped into a concert, and heard a slick-looking Frenchman play a piano in a way that made ine feel all over in spots. As goon as he snt down on the stool, I knew b}' the way he han- dled himself that he understood the machine he was running. He tapped the keys a^ay up one end, just as if they were gaugeR, and he wanted to see if he had water enough. Then he looked up, as if he wanted to know how much steam he was carrying, and the next moment he pulled open the throttle and sailed out on tlie main line as if he was half kn ttoili' IMe. i3HAP. XlCXlI.] USE OF PlfiURES. 626 *^ You could hear her thunder over culverts and bridges, and getting faster and faster, until the fellow rocked about in hie seat like a cradle. Somehow I thought it was old ' 36^ pulling a passenger train nnd getting out of the w^ay of a 'special.'' The fellow worked the keys on the middle division like lightning, and then he flew along the north eud of the line until the drivers' went around like a buzz-saw, and I goc excited. About the time I was fixing to tell him to cuther off a little, he kicked the dampers under the machine wide open, pulled the throttle away back in the tender, and — Jerusalem jump- ers I how he did run ! I couldn't stand it any longer, and yelled to him that she was *pounding' on the left side, and if he wasn't careful he'd drop his ash-pan. "But he didn't hear. No one heard me. Everything was flying and whizzing. Telegraph poles on the side of the track looked like a row of corn-stalks, the trees aij- peared to be a mud-bank, and all the time the exhaust of the old machine sounded like the hum of a bumble-bc^e. I tried to yell out, but my tongue wouldn't move. He went around curves like » bullet, slipped an eccentric, blew out his soft plug, went down grades fifty feet to the mile, and not a confounded brake set. She went by the meeting point at a mile and a half a minute, and calling for more steam. My hair stood up like a cat's tall, because I knew the game was up. ** Sure enough, dead ahei^d of us was the head-light of the * special.' In a daze I heard the crash as they struck, and I saw cars shivered into atoms, pe -pie mashed and mangled and bleeding and gasping for water. I heard another crash as the "French pro- fessor struck the deep keys away down on the lower end of the southern division, and then I came to my senses. There he was at a dead stand-still, with the door of the fire-box of the machine open, wiping the perppiration off his face and bowing at the people before him. If I live to be a thousand years old I'll never forget the ride ihafc Frencbmaa gave me on a piano," — Ttmea-Democrat, TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Figurative Language, p. 601. ClassifleaUon of Figures, p. 602. a. Figures founded on resemblance, p. 603. 6. Figures founded on relation, p. 608. c. Figures having an apparent inconsistency between the literal and figurative meaning, p. 602. d. Elliptical figures, p. 602. e. Pleonastic figures, j). 602. /. Figures of arrangement, p 602. g. Personification, apostrophe, exclamation, interjection, p. 603. h. Grammatical figures, p. 602. i. Complex figures, p. 602. Chief Figures : a. Personification, p. 602. 626 TOtlCAL ANALYSIS. [^akt VI. Apostrophe, p: 603. Exclamation, p. 603. 6. Metonymy, p. 604. 1. Concrete and abstract, p. 604. 2. Effect and cause, p. 604. • 8. Author and works, p. 604. c. Synecdoche, p. 604. d. Hyperbole, p. 604. e. Irony, p. 605. Epigram, p. 605. /. Simile, p. 605. 1. Unexpectedness, p. 606. Belittling similes, p. 606. 3. Adaptability, p. 607. Metaphor inconsistent, p. 607. g. Metaphor, p. 611. Metaphors condensed similes, p. 613. Completeness, p. 615. Mixed metaphors, p. 616. Force of simile and metaphor, p. 619. Allegory, p. 620. The fable, p. 620. Distinguishing features : 1. Qualities of men attributed to brutes, p. 620. 2. Distinguished from the Christian parable by occa- sional raillery and revenge, p. 620. 3. Inculcates ethical principles and prudential max- ims, p. 621. Kinds of fables : a. Theoretic, p. 621. b. Moral, p. 621. c. Fables of destiny, p. 621. d. Religious fables, p. 621. Danger in using figures, p. 621. CHAPTER XXXIII. RHYTHM. Though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fnshion. ... For a good poet'B made as well as born. — Bbn JokboH, O many are the poets that are sown By nature, men endowed with highest gifts, The vision and the faculty divine ; Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse, ' Which, in the docile season of their youth, * It was denied them to acquire, through lapk Of culture, and the inspiring aid of books. — Wobdswobth. Prose and Poetry Distinguished.— We have seen that one of the characteristics of poetry is Figurative Language, and that this, though not essential to the essay and the oration, is frequent in all prose writing. We come now to Rhythm, another feature of poetry, and the one most readily recognized. This, though com- monly regarded as essential to poetry, is not merely unes- sential, but positively weakening to prose. Hence those who have no ambition to be poets are still interested in Rhythm, which they must understand in order to be sure of avoiding it in prose. Rhythm is the recurrence of accent at regular meas- ured intervals."' Sounds that are produced by regular periodical vibrations are known as tones. Such are the sounds of the voice in singing. To this steady, prolonged, anticipated sound the ear becomes ac- 628 RHYTHM. [Part VI. customed in singing, where tone is expected ; but in discourse a break into musical tones would be startling, and, unless to attain some pecidiar eflfeot, intolerable. It requires of the ear a read- justment, which is disagreeable because it is unreasonable. So of rhythm. In poetry the ear adjusts itself td the regular recurrence of emphasis, and is shocked if the recurrence is in- temipted. But in prose no such recurrence of emphasis is ex- pected. When the ear first perceives it, it is incredulous ; the attention is distracted from the meaning in the effort to listen closely and see if indeed what purports to be prose has. been measured out into metrical feet ; and if this proves to be true, the ear is disgusted at the lack of fitness. In going down stairs, the foot learns the intervals, and descends easily in absolute darkness, accepting regular intervals as charac- teristic of stairs ; but in free walking one rebels against having his steps measured for him. Nothing more fatigues one than to stride fi'om tie to tie on a railroad track. One form of favorite mechanism in construction is that in which a regular succession occurs, like the swing of a pendufum. In other instances in which one feels the sense of monotony, but cannot at once detect the cause, it is found, on a closer scrutiny, that the sentences have more than two variations, but they occur in one invariable order, with- the sameness of a treadmill. Dr. Johnson's style sometimes falls into this monotone of mechanism. Hazlitt criticises it, saying that to read or to hear such passages from Johnson's writings is as bad as being at sea in a calm, in which one feels the everlasting monotony of the ground-swell. 'Charles Dickens sometiriies falls under the tyranny of his ear in. •composing ; and then his style assumes an arbitrary succession of. a few constructions, in which thought is subordinated to euphony ■of expression. A roll and a swell and a return, in the boom of the style, if I may speak so incongruously, destroy the sense of everything but the sound. One is tempted to chant the passage. — Phelps. Eobert G. IngelrsoU, in a recent interview, talked in this way of George Eliot. The statement appears as prose, but the merest typographicjal arrangement makes it passable blank verse, as wit- OffAP^ XXXIII.] RHYTHM IN PROSE. She carried in her tender heart The burdens of our race. She looked Through pity''B tears upon the faults And frailties of mankind. She knew The springs and seeds of thought and deed. And saw with cloudless eyes through all The winding ways of greed, ambition, And deceit — where folly vainly plucks, With thorn-pierced hands the fading flowers Of selfish joy— the highway of eternal light. ■Whatever her relations may have been, No matter what I think or others say, Or how much all regret The one mistake in all her loving life, I feel and know that in the fearless court Where her own conscience sat as truest judge, She stood acciuitted, pure as light. And ptainless as a star. At this rate the colonel will prove a formidable rival to the spring poets and to the sweet singer of Michigan. — Albany Argus. Of the same speaker the New York Sitn makes another criticism, based on the sound rule that prose is never to seem attired in the garb of poetry. As an orator Colonel IngersoU, of Peoria, drops too much into the sing-song, and as a rhetoiician he indulges too frequently a weakness for alliterative speech. Here are a few random, phrases from his address in the Academy of Music night before last : " The chill of chains." " Shared the gloom and glory of the seven sacred years." " The wav was wajied «nd won," " Forged new fetters for their fellow-men," " Our fathers fought for free lorn." " The stream went singing to the seas." " Made merchandise of men." **Mere legal lies, mean and meaningless, base and baseless/* The habit seems to be growing on the Colonel, and he will no doubt be obliged to us for pointing out the fact. An excessive dependence upon alliteration's artful aid may mar the eflfect of extremely eloquent elocution. 630 RHYTHM. [Part VL Critics differ as to whether poetry must be rhyth- mical. On the one hand : After some preliminary remarks;^ the lecture really commences with the answer to the question, What is poetry ? To this Mr. Dobell replies that "Poetry is whatever may congruously form part of a poem ; perfect poetry is whatever may congruously form part of a perfect poem,'' an answer, as it appears to us, not unlike the well-known one to the question of. What was an archdeacon ? "A man who discharges arohdiaconal functions." He then pro- ceeds to consider the nature of a perfect poem, and in order to do this he assumes that "it is the perfect expression of a perfect mind." There seeias here to be a tacit assumption that a per- fect mind could only find its expression in poetry ; but there is ap- parently no reason why such a mind should not find its manifesta- tion in prose equally well ; for in the definition given by Mr. Dobell of a perfect poem — i.e., the expression of the attributes to know, to love, to worship, and to order — there is nothing which would be inconsistent with prose. The consequence of this theory would be that metre is unessential to poetry, a consequence which is definitely accepted by Walt Whitman and the more extreme members of the spasmodic school generally, but which has as yet found but little credence with the public in general.— (S^ectotor, July 1, 1876. On the other : First and foremost, the representation must be a representation in language, and not only in language but in verse or rhythm. — Alebbd AuSTINf. The pleasure afforded by poetic rhythm is that of expecting the fulfilment of a recognized law of cadence, while the pleasure afforded by prose rhythm is that its cadences shall come upon us by surprise. — Appleton's Journal. Thirdly, I deduce the position from all the causes elsewhere as- signed, which render metre the proper form of poetry, and poetry imperfect and defective without metre. : ■ • It is indeed worthy of remark that all our great poets have been Chap. XXXIII.] RHYTHM IK POETRY. 631 good prose writers, as Chancer, Spenser, Milton ; and this proba- bly more from their just sense of metre. For a true poet will never confound verse and prose ; whereas it is almost character- istic of indifferent prose writers that they should be constantly slipping into scraps of metre. ... Poetry is not the proper antithesis to prose but to science. Poetry is opposed to science, and prose to metre. — CoiiEBrDGB. Again, Coleridge says : The definition of good Prose is — proper words in their proper places ; of good Verse — the most proper words in their proper places. The propriety in either case is relative. The words in prose ought to express the intended meaning and no more ; if they attract attention to themselves it is in general a fault. . . . But in verse you must do more ; there the words, the media, must be beautiful, and ought to attract your notice — ^yet not so much and so perpetually as to destroy the unity which ought to result from the whole poem (vi. 468). Henry Morley defines prose as follows : The word ^ose means straightforward. It is derived from the Jjatin prorsus, and so was the name of a Roman goddess, Prorsa, also called Prosa, who presided over births with the head foremost. Prose signifies, therefore, the direct manner of common speech, without twists or unusual ways of presentation. He remarks thus upon Coleridge's definition : The definition may be handy, but it is not true. No writer of prose would wish to use second-best words. Setting aside the difference that lies deep in the nature of thought, there remains only the mechanical distinction that verse is a contrivance for ob- taining by fixed places of frequently recurring pause and elevation of the voice, by rhyme and other devices, a large number of places of fixed emphasis, that cause stress to be laid on every important word, while they set thouglit to music. Whatever will bear this continuous enforcement is fit matter for verse ; but the custom- ary, though put into words that fit it perfectly, are therefore the best, is less intense, and therefore is best expressed in the straight- forward method of our customary speeoh. 632 RHYTHM. ^ [Part VI. Good poetry might be defined ' ' elegant and decorated lan- guage in metre, expressing such and such thoughts, " and good prose composition as ' ' such and such thoughts expressed in good lan- guage ; " that which is primary in each being subordinate in the other. — Whately. Again, Coleridge will not hear of th.e doctrine that between the langna§;e of prose and that of metrical composition there is no essential difEerence. For since poetry implies more passion and greater excitement of all the faculties ihan prose, this excitement must make itself felt in the language that expresses it. OC this excited natural feeling, metre is the natural vehicle — metre, which has its origin in emotion, tempered and mastered by will; or, as Culeridge expresses it, metre, which is the result of the balance which the mind strikes by vo'untary efEort to check the working of passion. Hence as the use of metrical language implies a union of spontaneous impulse and voluntary purpose, both of these elements ought lo reflect themselves in the poet^s diction. ... But however and whenever the one inspinng impulse finds words to embody it, one thing is certiiin, — that embodiment must be in language which has in it rhybhm and melody. . . Prose, Coleridge used to say, is the opposite not of poetry, but of verse or metre — a doctrine wh!ch, however contrary to common parlance, commends itself at once to all who think about it. If, as I have been accustomed i^ th^se iecturesto say, "' poetry is the ejf- pression, in beautiful form and melodious language, of tfie best thoughts and the noblest emotions which the spectacle of life awakens in the finest souls," it is clear that this may be effected by prose as truly as- by verpe, if only the language be rhjthmical and beauti- ful. ... In thdt e say he (Mr, Shadworth Hodgson) says : " Metre is notnecessary to poetry, while ppetry is necessary to metre." Again, "Prose, when it rises into poetry, becomes as nearly musical as language without metre can be : it becomes rhythmical."-r Shaibf. Perhaps no stronger support could be given the theory that rhythm is essential to poetry than the fact that Mr. Euskin, in a book recently published on " Elements of English Prosody," now holds that the definition of poetry in the opening of the third volume of "Modern Painters" is defective, and adds to it the words in italics : Poetry is the presentment, in musical fornix to the ipaagination of noble grounds for the noble emotions. Leigh Hunt says : Fitness and unfitness for song or nietrical excitement just make all the difference between a poetical and a prosaic subjept ; and the reason why verse is necessary to the form of poetry is, that the perfection of poetica} . spirit de,?^^li4^i }fi w ^ W^ii ■ th^ -circle ' of enthu- Ohap. XXXIII.] VERSIFICATION. 633 Biasm, beauty, and power is incomplete without it. I do not mean to say that a poet can never show himself a poet in prose ; but that, being one, his desire and necessity will be to write in verse ; and that if he were not able to do so, he would not and could not deserve his title. VERSIFICATION. English Verse is characterized by Ehythm, or the recurrence of stress, beat, or accent, at regular intervals. In this respeet, English metre differs from the classical metres, which are constructed piincipally according to the quantity of syl- lables ; though modified by the rhythm in many instances. Thus, in English vgrse, we speak of syllables as accented or unaccented, while Latin verse is measured by syllables regarded as long or short. RHYME is given to a large proportion of English verse, but is by no means essential. Indeed the noblest verse is free from its hampering resti-ictions. Perfect rhymes must comply with the following rules : (a) The vowel sounds and final consonants of tlie rhym- ing syllables must be the same ; and the consonant sounds preceding them must be different. Thus, r-ing rhymes with s-ing, k-ing, sl-ing ; but not with s-ang, or k-ind, or err-ing. ' (J) The rhyming syllables must both have the strong accent. Thus, rmg rftymea^with s»n^, but not with pterfstMg'. When the second Une ends in a trisyllable, accented on the ante- penultimate, no accent is required on the ultimate. r I (c) The penultimate syllables may rhyme, provided the ultimates are identical and weak in accent. Thus, J^ar-ing rhymes with tear-ing. (d) Tlie antepenultimate syllables may rhyme, provided 634 RHYTHM. [Part VI. the two last syllables are identical in the two lines, and both are weak in accent. Thus, impor-tunate rhymes with/or-tunate. The Bhythm sometimes requires words to be slightly changed in pronunciation, so as to suit a particular measure. This is done — (1) By contraction, so as to reduce the number of syllables. Thus, His, for it is ; o'er, for over ; Za'era, for taken ; Tve, for I have; cunning^st, for cunningest; pow'r, for power; spir''tuH, for spiritual ; Tti'-ght-ieit, for mightiest. (2) By expansion, to increase the number of syllables. Thus, t^(o)rougfL, for through; command(^e)menf, for commandment; drenc/ied, for drenched ; na-ti~on, for nation. The number of words in the English language which form per- fect rhymes is so limited that some slight deviations from the above rules are sanctioned by the practice of the best poets, and are called allowable rhymes. In allowable rhymes the final con- sonant sounds remain the same, and the vowel sound is modified. Thus, sun, upon ; adores, powers ; war, car ; love, move ; lost, coast. ExEEcisB. — Give perfect rhymes for each of the follow- ing words : Grace, match, detract, gladden, invade, safe, epitaph, chain, taking, flame, trance, chant, lapse, beware, grave. Speech, creak, conceal, extreme, gleaning, heard, cease, death, shred, steed, swSep, offence, islander, wariness, bedew. Bribe, slid. Ides, midst, defy, brief, drift, thrilling, guileless, shrine, spring, sire, desist, united, driven, guise, lisp. Throb, shewed, scoffer, voice, anoiat, spoke, golden, stolen, prone, song, brood, roofless, gloomy, grope, forswore. Eude, judge, skull, overruling, sun, importune, blunt, spur, numberless, birds, nurse, dangerous, persecute, mistrust. Point out which of the following rhymes are allowable, and which are to he condemned. Show what rules the latter violate. So some rats of amphibious nature, Are either for the land or water. — Btjtiocb; Chap. XXXIII.] MEASURES. 635 Wine or delicious fmits unto the ta&be, A music in the ears will ever last. — Johhsok. Yet to his guest though no way sparing, He ate himself the rind and paring,— Pope. And pulpit, drum ecclesiastic. Was beat with list instead of a stick. — ^Butler. That jelly's rich, this wine is healing. Pray dip your whiskers and your tail in. — Pope. Whose yielded pride and proud submission. Her heart did melt in great compassion. — Spenser. Pleased to the last he crops the flowery food, . And licks- the hand just raised to shed his blood.— Pope. Let not ambition mock their useful toil, Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile.- Gray. Much converse do I find in thee, Historian of my infancy. — Wordsworth. Oh ! not in cruelty, not in wrath, 'Twas an angel visited the gi*een earth. — Longfellow. ** Xou can't," said Tom to lisping Bill, " Find any rhyme for month," — " There you mithtake," did Bill reply, " ril find a rhyme at wonth." I wish I were a cassowary Upon the plains of Timbuctoo ; I'd like to eat a missionary, Flesh and bones and hymn-book too. Measures (or Feet) are the equivalent parts, each consisting of some uniform combination of accented and unaccented syllables, into which the line (or verse) is di- vided. Three kinds of feet give a fair clue to English versi- fication, and are all that we need here to consider. These are : (a) lambiCy in which the even syllables are accented ; as, And for | this draught | all kinds | of fruit, Grape syr | -up, squares | of col 1 -ored ice. With cher | -ries served |.in drifts | of snow. — Sick King in Bokhara, 636 RHYTHM. [Part VI. ■ (b) Trochaic, in which the odd syllables are ac- cented ; as, In her | lovely | silken | raurmar.— iady Geraldine. (c) Anapaestic, in which two unaccented syllables are followed by an accented one ; as, ' I have read | in an old 1 and a mar | -vellous tale. "When the accented syllable comes first, the feet are called Dactyls ; as, Jupiter, 1 great and ora ] -nipotent. The Pause (or Caesura) is that point in the verse (or line) where the sense and rhythm both admit of a mo- mentary interruption of the latter. The pause cannot be made in the middle of a word ; but, with this exception, it may fall at any part of the verse. Besides the pause in the course of the line, there is generally one also at the end of the line, as there the sense is usually interrupted. Not always, however ; e.g.: Nor content with such .Audacious neighbourhood. — Miltok. What cannot you and I perform | upon The unguarded Duncan ? | What not put upon His spungy officers. — Shaespebe. Variety is given to verse as follows : (a) Other feet than those that characterize the stanza are introduced ; as, How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence throhgh the empty- vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled. — Hilton. Here the third foot of the third verse is a trochaic instead of an iambic, (b) Syllables are appended to the verse after the regular measure is completed ; as, Wherefore | rejoice ? | That Cfiea \ -ar comes j in tri [ -umph?— Shakbpebe. Chap. XXXIII.] VARIETY IN VERSE. 637 (c) The first foot is contracted ; as, Or ush I -ered with I a show [ -er still, When I the gust | hath blown [ his fill.— Milton. The'last line might be read as trochaic : When the | gust hath | blown his \ fill. From isolated lines, sometimes even fi'om stanzas, it is impossi- ble to detel:mine whether the measure of the poem is iambic or trochaic, (d) The pause is always varied in good verse; as, The quality of mercy |] is not strained. U It droppeth, Q as the gentle ruin from heav'n'^ Upon the place beneath, | Tt is twice bless'd ; i It blesseth him that gives, [| and him that takes. H 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; | it buuomes^ The throned monarch better than his crown. |j —Shakspebe. In this passage, the pauses occur in the different lines respec- tively after the following syllables : First line, seventh and tenth ; second line, third ; third line, sixth and tenth ; fourth line, sev- enth and tenth ; fifth line, seventh ; sixth line, tenth, (e) By combining; verses of different lengths, and ^^arying the order of rhymes ; as. No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around ; The idle spear and shield were high uphnng, The hooked chariot stood, Unstain'd with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. — Milton, Oae on iJie Nmivity. (f) Brolcen verses are often introduced in blank verse^ especially in dramatic, dialogue, where frequently one part of a verse is spoken by one person, and the rest by another ; as, Shylock. Cursed be my tribe, If I forgive him I Baasanig., _ Shylock, do you hear ?—Shakspebe. 638 RHYTHM. [Pakt VI. Shakspere often uses these broken verses in the quick inter- change of passionate dialogue, and to indicate abrupt changes of feeling. Irregular Measure is a term applied to verse which is not composed of complete feet. Such verse usually lacks one or more syllables at the close, owing to the awk- wardness of double rhymes, and the tendency to throw off a final weak syllable. The general character of irregular measure is cheerful and lively. Irregular verses are of various lengths, from one foot to eight ; but the most common are Tetrameters (complete and defective), as. Tell me not in mournful numbers, " Life is but an empty dream," For the soul is dead that slumbers^ And things are not what they seem. — "Longfellow. Or with a different arrangement of rhymes— In his chamber, weak and dying. Was the Norman baron lying ; Loud, without, the tempest thunderM, And the castle turret shook. In this fight was death the gainer, 'Spite of ■vassal and retainer, And the lands his sires had plundered Written in the Doomsday Book.— Id. Or defective Tetrameters throughout — other Romans shall arise, Heedless of a soldier's name ; Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame, — Cowpee. This measure predominates in Milton's *'L' Allegro." Tenny- son also employs it, as in " The Lady of Shalott," which is irregu- lar in the- general character of its verse. The refrain in every stanza is a regular Trimeter, and there is only one stanza in the whole poem in which the other verses are irregular throughout : Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Tliro' the wave that runs for ever * , By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot, Chap. XXXIII.] HEROIC MEASTTKE. 639 Four gray walls and four gray towers Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle embowers The Lady of Shalott. But in the latter part of the next stanza, he breaks into the regular measure : But whd hath seen her wave her hand ? Or at I he casement seen her stand ? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? Irregular verse is generally rhymed : but Longfellow has "writ- ten a long Indian epic poem, ** Hiawatha," in unrhymed irregular Tetrameters ; e.g.: There the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How they built their nests in summer, Where they hid themselves in winter, Talked with them where'er he met them. Called them " HiawatHa's chickens." Of all beasts he learned the language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns. How the reindeer ran so swiftly. Why thie rabbit was so timid. Talked with them, where'er he met them, Called them " Hiawatha's Brothers." Heroic Measure (Pentameter) is made up of five iambic feet. In its rhymed form it is the measure of Chaucer and Spenser, of Drjden and Pope, of Cowper, Campbell, and Byron ; as, True ease in writing comes from art, not chance As those move easiest who have learned to dance. 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence ; The sound must seem an echo to the sense. ^ 'Soft is the straih when Zcphyf gently blows, And the smooth strain in smoother numbers flows : But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough voice should like the" torrent roar.— PoPB. In its unrhymed form it is the stately and solemn blank 640 EHTTHM. [Pakt VI. verse of Shakspere and Milton, as of "Wordsworth and Tennyson ; as, Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, ' Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; She all night long her amorous descant sung. — Milton. The Elegiac Stanza is made up of four iambic pentameters rhyming alternately ; as, Full many a gem of piirest ray serene. The dark unf athom'd caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flow'r is bom to blush unseen. And waste its sweetness on the desert air. — Gbay, The Spenserian Stanza is made up of eight iam- bic pentameters, followed by an iambic hexameter (or Alexandrine) first used by Spenser, and a favorite form with Thomson and Byron. The nine lines contain only three rhymes disposed thus, b, c, b, c c, d, c, d, d ; e.g.: It fortuned, out of the thickest wood A ramping lion rushed suddenly. Hunting full greedy after salvage blood ; Soon as the royal virgin he did spy. With gaping mouth at her ran greedily, To have at once devoured her tender cor'se ; But to the prey whenas he drew more nigh, His bloody rage assuaged with remorse, And with the sight amazed, forgot his furious force. — Spenseb, The Sonnet contains fourteeli iambic pentameters. Great license is allowed in the order of the rhymes. JThus : Surrey uses only two rhymes ; making tlie sonnet seven coup- lets. • Spenser uses five rhymes ; the first nine lines being a Spenser- ian stanza, and the last five corresponding with the last five of the same stanza. Shakspere uses seven rhymes, making his sonnet equal to three elegiac stanzas and a couplet ; as, be be I de de I fgig |i,hh Chap. XXXIII.] ROMANTIC MEASURE. 64l Wordsworth uses three rhymes, of which one runs throughout the whole sonnet thus : Weak is the will of man, his judgment blind, Remembrance perseciites, and hope betrays; Heavy is woe, and ]oy, for humankind A mournful thing, bo transient is the blaze I i?hUB might he paint our lot of mortal days, Who wants the glorious faculty assigned To elevate the more than reasoning mind, And color life's dark cloud with orient, rays. Imagination is that sacred power, Imagination lofty and refined ; 'Tis her's to pluck the amar»nthine flower Of faith, and round the' Bufferer^s temple bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest, wind. — Wordswobth. Romantic Measure is made up of iambic tetrame- ters, rhymed, and either in couplets, or varied by trime- ters; as, He was a man of middle age ; In aspect manly, grave and s^e, As on king's errand come ; But in the glances of his eye, A penetrating, keen, and sly Expression found its home.-^SGOTT. The Tennysonian Stanza is made up of four iam- bic tetrameters, with two rhyming verses used between two others, best known in the poem " In Memoriam." Thus: I hold it truth with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones. That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things. Iambic Trimeters are seldom used, by themselves, thougl;! they are found in Shakspere's lyrics. Thus : Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man^s ic gratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen Because thou art not seen, Although-thy breath be rude. — Aa You Like lU 642 RHYTHM. [Part VI. Ballads and Hymns are composed mainly of tetra- meters and trimeters alternating. The other forms in which iambic measure occurs, are either va- rieties of those already explained, or parts or multiples of them. The long verses of seven and eight feet may generally be written as two verses of four and three, and of four and four feet respec- tively. Thus the first line of the "Battle of Ivry," which is gen- erally printed as one Heptanieter, may be printed as a Tetrameter and a Trimeter : Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, Prom whom all glories are I — Maoaulat. Anapaestic Measure is rarely found pure, even in single lines. For example, in Beattie's "Hermit," out of forty-eight lines, only four are pure complex verses ; all the others have a simple foot at the commencement ; e.y,: At the close And mor When nought And nought of the day -tals the sweets but the tor bat the night [When the ham' of f orgeat -rent is heard -ingale's song -let is Btill, - -fulness prove, on the hill, in the grove. — Beattie. Sometimes, however, a line thus defective at the beginning, is counterbalanced by an excessive syllable in the preceding line, thus : 'Tis the last 1 rose of sum [ -mer, Left bloom \ -ing alone. [ — Moore. in which case the lines printed as one verse would be pure ; as, 'Tis the last | rose of sum- 1 -mer, left bloom [ -ing alone. The commonest* forms of this complex: measure are the Trime- ter ; as, I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute : From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute. — Cowpbr. and the Tetrameter ; as, Chap. XXXIII.] EXERCISES. 643 A.nd the widows of Ashur are loud in tlieir wail And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord. — Btbon. Exercise. — Arrange each of the following sentences into a Heroic couplet : Tliis man would soar to heaven by his own strength, and would not be obliged for more to God. How art thou misled, vain, wretched creature, to think thy wit bred these God-like notions. She made a little stand at every turn, and thrust her lily hand among the thorns to draw the rose, and she shook the stalk, eveiy rose she drew, and brush'd the dew away. (Four liaes.)- Whoever thinks to see a faultless piece, thinks what never shall be, nor ever was, nor is. Sometimes men of wit, as men of breeding, must commit less errors, to avoid the great. The hungry judges soon sign the sentence, and that jurymen may dine, wretches hang. Arrange each of the following into Iambic Tetrametei's, rhyming : He soon stood on the steep hill's verge, that looks o'er Brank- some's towers and wood ; and 'martial murmurs proclaimed from below the southern foe approaching. (Four lines.) Of mild mood was the Earl, and gentle ; the vassals were mde, and warlike, and fierce ; haughty of word, and of heart high, they recked little of a tame liege lord. (Four lines.) A lion, worn with cares, tired with state affairs, and quite sick of pomp, resolved to pass his latter life in peace, remote from strife and noise. (Four lines.) I felt as, when all the waves that o'er thee dash, on a plank at sea, whelm and upheave at the same time, and towards a desert realm hurl thee. (Four lines.) No more, sweet Teviot, blaze the glaring bale-fires on thy silver tide; steel-clad warriors ride along thy wild, and willowed shoie no longer. (Four lines, rhyming alternately.) His eyes of swarthy glow he rolls fierce on the hunter's quiver'd 644 EHTTHM. [Pabx VI. hand, — spurns the sand with black hoof and horn, and tosses his mane of snow high. (Four lines, rhyming alternately.) Where late the green ruins were blended with the rock's wood- cover'd side, turrets rise in fantastic pride, and between flaunt feudal banners. (Four lines, rhyming alternately.) Whate'er befall, I hold it true ; when I sorrow most, I feel it , — better than never to have loved at all, 'tis to have loved and lost. (Tennysonian Stanza.) TOPICAL ANALYSIS. Rhythm. Prose and poetry distinguislied, p. 627. Definition of rhythm, p. 627. Critics differ as to whether poetry must be rhythmical, p. 630. VERSIFICATION, p. 633. English verse, p. 683. RHYME, p. 633. Mules for Rhyme, p. 633 a. Vowel sounds and final consonants, p. 633. "> J. Accent of rhyming syllables, p. 633. c. Penultimate syllables, p 633. d,. Antepenultimate syllables, 633 Words are changed to meet tlie requirements of rhythm :-. 1. By contraction, p. 634. 2. By expansion, p. 634. Measures, p. 635. a. Iambic, p. 635. b. Trochaic, p. 636. c. Anapastic, p. 636. Dactyls, p 636. The pause, p. 636. Variety is given by ; a. Introducing other feet, p. 636. b. Appending syllables, p. 686. c. Contracting the first foot, p. 637. d. Varying the pause, p. 637. e. Combining verses of different lengths, p. 637. /. Introducing broken verses, p. 637. Irregular measure, p. 638. Heroic nieasure, p. 639. The elegiac stanza, p. 640. The Spenserian- stanza, p. 640. ''' '' The sonnet, p. 640. Romantic measure, p. 641. The Tennysonian stanza, p. 641. Iambic trimeters, p. 641. Ballads-^nd hymns, p. 642. i Anapsegtic measure, p. 643. Exercises, p. 643. GENERAL INDEX. Abbreviations : cr. stands for criticised ; q. stands for quoted. AsBOTT, E. A., q. xlix, Ixxri, Ixxxviii, ciii, cvi, cxxv, cxxviii, 1 ' cxxix, cxxxi, oxxxvii, 291, 433, 507 ; cr. xlvii, Ixxxi Absalate phrases, Ixxxix Acceptunce, notes of, 177 Accumulation of material, 23S Accuracy in details, 86, 148, 213-315 Acerbity of tongue, 39, 43 Acrostics, 480, 484 Aet(i Columbiana, 597 Adams, John, 363 Adams, John Quincy, 331 ; cr. 633 Adaptability of similes, 607 Alaiptation, 83, 506, 510, .538 Addison, Joseph, 13, 133, 335, 354, 8.58, 416, 439, 4116 ; q. xxii, Ixxii, 49, 114, 380, 286, 295, 480; or. xxviii, xxxi, Iviii, Ixv, Ixxxviii, ci, oxix, cxxxvi, 233, 382, 394, 396, 417, 619 " Adeler, Max," 450; or. 126 Adjectives, xviii, xxiv, xxv-xliii, Ixii, Ixxiv, xcv comparison, xxviii-xzxi definite, xxxv-xl demonstrative, xxxv-xli descriptive, xxv-xxxv fitting, xxvi. xxvU, cxi, oxii for aaverbs,'xxxii iiidefinitev xl, xlv- numeral, xli-xliii Adjsutive sentences, ci-cviii Advantages of discussion, 63 Adverbs, Ixii, Ixxvi-xciii, xcv for adjectives, xxxi Adverb phrases, xxv, Ixii Adverb sentences, cviii ^sop, 331 ; q. 13, 92 JSson's Fables, 619 Aflfeotation, 348, 419 After-dinner speeches, 88, 133 Aim of argument, 67 Albany Argw, 629 Alexander, J Addison, q. 387 Alexander, P. P.,cr. xxv AUord, Henry, 164 ; q. xlix, Ixvii, xo, xoi, cui, oxvii. %, 41, 374, 426 ; cr. xxxii, 2i2, 394, 484 Alfred, King, and the Danes, 407 Alison, Archibald, cr. Ixvii, civ, 426 Allegory, 630 Allegro, L\ 638 Allen, Dr., 440 Alliteration, 479 Alva the Butcher, 453 Ambig lity, xxxlii, ox, 571 Ambiguous pronouns, 413 American humor, 111-113 Amherst professor, an, 392 Anacharsis, q. 123 Anagrams, 481 AnalyseB of Chapters, 13, 31, 44, 61, 80, 90, 136, 149, 167, 195, 207, 241, 254. 275, 300, 330, 341, 353, 378, 398, 43.3, '4i7, 464, 490, .504, ' .518, 536, 546, 561, 584, 600, 635, 644 ., Analyses of descriptions, 244 Analyses of sectionB, xciv, cxii, cxl Analysis, .533, 541 Analysis of essay-writing, 338-340 Anapxstic feet, 636 Anapaestic measure, 643 Ancient Mariner, The, 439 And, cxix-cxxi Andrieux, M., .570 i Anglo-Saxon, 384 Angus, William, q. lii Anne, Queen, 354, 466, 478 Annoyances of a wit, 139 Answering letters, 196 Anti-climax, cxxxvi Antithesis, cxxxvii 646 GENERAL INDEX. Any, 431 Aphorisms, 486 Apiary, an, 383 Apostrophe, 603 ; use of, S59-363 Apothegms, 486, 487 Apothegms, Bacon's, 611 Appletori's Journal, 473, 630 Appositives, xx*-, xlvii Appreciation, 45, 139 i Arblay, Madame d', q. 366 Argument, 519, 525, 526 Aristophanes, 365 Aristotle, 526, 529, 594, 595, 611, 613, 615, 620, 633 ; q. 101, 104, 226, - 286 Armstrong, John, 549 Arnold, Matthew, q. 344 ; cr. 596, 631 Arnold, Thomas, 599 Aruolfo, q. 143 Arrangement, xviii, xx, xxi, xxiv, xxxiii, xxxiv, xxxv, xxxviii, xlvi of phrases, Ixxxix-xoiii, oxii, cxxxi of observations, as follows : xviii, XX, xxi, xxiv, xxvi, xxviii, xxix, xxx, xxxi, xxxii, xxxiii, xxxiv, xxxv, xxxvi, xxxvii, xxxviii, xli, xlii, xliii, xliv, xlvi, xlvii, xlviii, xlix, 1, Iv, Ivi. Ivii, Iviii, lix, Ix, Ixiv, Ixv, Ixx, Ixxii, Ixxiii, Ixxv, Ixxvi, Ixxvii, Ixxviii, Ixxxii, Ixxxiii, Ixxxiv,. Ixxxvii, Ixxxviii, Ixxxix, xc, xoi, xcvii, cii, civ, cvi, cvii, cviii, cix, cxiii. cxvi, cxviii, cxix, cxxi, cxxii, oxxiii, oxxiv, cxxv,* cxxvi, cxxvii, cxxviii, cxxix, cxxx, cxxxi, cxxxv, cxxxvi, cxxxvii Art of Conversation, q. 33, 47, 48, 75, 148 Art ofSnglish Poesie, 371 Articles : definite, xxxv indefinite, xl Articulation, 151-161, 570 Artistic, the, in poetry, 595, 599 Artistic narration, 84 As, Ixxxvii, cxxvi As to being funny, 98-136 As You Like It, 641 Assimilation, 323 At least, Ixxxviii Athenian Oracle, 439 Atlanta Constitution, q. 193 Atlantic Monthly, 88, 502 ; q. 60, 146, 345, 487 ; cr. 418 Attention, economy of, 457 Attention to the neglected, .51 Atterbury, Francis, q. 13 Auburn Advertiser, q. 364 Augustine, q. 62 Ausonius, 623 Austin, Alfred, q. 588, 596, 630 Austin, Gilbert, q. 151 Authorized definitions, 353, 379 Author's proof, 499, 500 Authorship, 88, 143 Autumn, 495 Awkwardness, 313 Bacohahalian a^e, 132 Bacon, Sir Francis, 65, 346, 515 ; q. xcviii, 136, 372, 274, 282, 284, 288, 439, 463, 594, 59.5, 607, 611 ; or. 230 Badinage, 127 Bain, Alexander, 330 ; q. xx, xxviii, xxxv, xxxvii, xxxix, lyiii, Ixi, Ixx, Ixxiii, Ixxvii, Ixxix, Ixxxiii, Ixxxix, cvii, cxx, cxxi, cxxii, 413, 461 ; cr. 94. 98 BaUads, 599, 643 Ballantine, Serjeant, 579 Bank-checks, 186 Banter, 39, 127 Bantering compliments, 54 Barbarisms, 353 Barham, R, H., cr. Iviii Barrow, Isaac, q. 107^ 136, 487 Bathos, cxxxv Battle of Ivry, 643 Bautain, M., q. 319, 332, 323, 327, 334, 337, 338, 339, 340, 542 Baxter, Richard, 120, 445, 531 Beattie, James, q. 643 Beau, a, 489 Beauty of style, 465, 483 Beck, Dr., 313 Beeoher, H; W.,453; q. 114 Beers, B. L q. 257 Belgarde, Abbe', q. 11 Belgrave, Lord, 368 Bell, Sir Charles, q. 153, 154, 156, 159, 553, 573 Bentham Jeremy, 360 ; cr. xxv Bentley, Richard, 360 Berkeley, George, cr. civ Berners, Lord,- or. 396 (, Berryer, Pierre Antoine, 5.54 Bible, The, q. 387, 454, .588, 603, 605 • "Billings, Josh,"q. 76 Biographical study, 239 Black ink 194 Blackley, 'w. L., q. 81, 36?, 365, 366, 613, 614, 619 Blackwood'' s Magazine, q. 18, 376 GENERAL INDEX. 647 Hair, Hugh, q. xx, xxi, Ixxxvi, Ixxxvii, ov, cxxix, 249, 466, 505, 506, 507, 510, 512, 513, 516, 530, 538, 593, 598, 603, 606 ; or. xxiii, xxix, xxxvi, It, Iviii, lix, Ixvii, Ixxxii, Ixxxvii, oi, cii, cvi, oxviii, oxix, cxxvii, 394, 416, 435 Blair's Rhetoric, 46R Blise, Dr., 356, 357 Block, Maurice, q. 487 Blunders, 350, 381, 383, 427; of the press, 493-496 Bluntness, 451, 454 Boasting, 147 Boileau, Nicolas, 43 Bolingbroke, Henry St. John 344 ; q. 478 ; cr. 391, 416 Bombast, 323, 233, 421 Bombastic commonplaces, 306 Bonnets, 489 Booth, Edwin, 539 Bores, 21 216 BosBuet, James Benignus le, 344 Bo&suet and his Contemporaries, cr. 416 Boston Courier, 618 Cultivator, q. 57 Post, 383 Saturday Gazette, 540" Transcript, q. xxxii, 71, 503 Traveler, q. 131 Boswell, James, 216-230, 353, 468 Bovee, C. N., q. 271, 280, 283; or. 295 . Brackets, 273 Bradley, Thomas, 538 Breathing, 550, 559, 569 Brevity, 115, 193, 197, 233, 411, 456 Bridgewater Treatises, 439 Bright, John, 113 Brilliancy, 25, 141, 467 Broken verses, 637 Brougham. Henry, Lord, q. xcviii, 531 Brown, Thomas, cr. xxxvi Browne, Sir Thomas, q. 296 Browning, Robert, q. xx, 451, 475, 598 Brnyfere, Jean de la, q. 287, 288 Bryant, William CuUen, 48, 817, 367 ; q. 390 Buckingham, Duke of, 456 Buckle, Henry Thomas, cr. cxxvi, 391 BufFon, George Louis le Clero, q. 343 Bulwer, Henry Lytton, q. 140, 380, 386, 287 ; cr. Ivii Bunyan, John, 235; q. 363, 581; or. 617 Burgess, Daniel, 452 Burke, Edmund, 43, 45, 279, 468, 539; q. xcv, xoix, 120, 463 ; cr. Ixxii, 385, 418, 452, 508 Burlesque, 223, 224, 328, 229 Burlesque age, 133 Burlington Jf'ree Press, q. 399 Burlington Hawkeye, q. 324, 230, 254, 376, 423, 495 ; cr. 126 Burney, Memoirs of Dr. , 366 Burns, Robert, 366, 597, 611 Business letters, 180-191 But, 433 Butler, Samuel, 611 ; q. Ixiii, 153, 386, 623, 634, 685. See Hudibras. Buttman, Prof., 109 Byron, Lord. 133, 139, 219, 249, 482, 598, 639, 640; q. xcv, 372, 643 ; cr. 668 Cacophonous Couplet on Cardinal Wolsey, 479 Caesar, Julius, 467 C^sura, the, 636 Cairns, William, cr. xxv Calumny from raillery, 87 Camden, Charles, 481 Camden Post, 609 Campaign, The, 325 Campbell, George, 415, 616, 619; q. XXX, xlv, Ixv, cxxii, cxxxvii, 106, 128, 225, 226, 8.53, 858, 379, 384, 394, 395, 396. 413, 423, 432, 438, 441, 443, 446, 454, 460, 461, 486, 505, 513, 520, 529, 534, 535, 606, 620, 623 ; cr. xxx, xlvii, Ixxx, Ixxxii, Ixxxiil, ciii, 385, 392 Campbell, Thomas, 639 ; q. cii, 271 Candor essential, 247 Cariteriury Tales, q. 848 Capitals, use of, xviii Carelessness, 426 Carlyle, Thomas, 360; q. 285, 287, 288, 30."), 343. 349, 360 ; cr. 471 Carnochan, Dr., 357 Carr, Dabney, 418 Carson, Dr. Alexander, q. 602, 624 Carte de visite, a, 480 Case, 391 Catullus, 489 Cento Verse, 482 Century, The, q. 206 Chalmers, Thomas, 452 ; cr. Ixvii Cham'bers's Journal, 439 Channing, William BUery, q. 269, 386, 844, 514, .570 Chapman, George, 365 Character of the speaker, 509 Charles the Bold, 479 648 GENERAL INDEX. Chatham, WiUiain Pitt, Earl of, cr. 453 Chaucer, Geoi&ey, q 348, 371, 485, 631, 639 Chesterfield, Earl of, 605 ; q. 138, 264 Chicago Herald, q. 335 Tribune, q. 224, 478 Children, imagination of, 307; ques- tions of, 308 \ compositions, 309 Cbinese idioms, 3B9 ; parable, 388 Choate, Ruf us, 444, 506 ; q. 470 Cjronograms, 480 Ciirysostom. 445 Cicero, 236, 344, 360, 439, 463, 5i2, 580, 534, 537, 530. .532, 539, 56B, 601, 607, 623 ; q. 505, 533 ; cr. 453 ~ Vincinnati Commercial^ q. 329 Circular letter, 171 Circumlocution, 430 Clarendon, Edward Hyde, Earl of, q. cvii 6^ Classification, 343 Claude, Rev. John, q. 313, 443. 533, 524 Clauses, xxv Clay, Henry, 488 ■ Clemenceau, M., 514 Clemens, S. L. See " Twain, Mark." Clifford, Justice Nathan, 514 Clifford, Professor, cr, 468 Climax, cxxiv, cxxxiv Close observation, 21 2 of feeling as well as facts, 248 Clown age, 131, 132 Coarseneas. 4.52, 454 Cobbett, William, 386 ; q. cxxvii, 414 Cobdeu, Richard, 440 Cocke 1-. E., q. 365 Coleridge, J. T., cr. cxxv Coleridge, S. T., 16, 249, 360, 437, 439, 613; q. xxvii, xliv, 23, 65, 96, 101, 117, 130, 138, 139, 134, 141, 144, 230, 353, 266, 269, 273, 344, 347, 356, 361, 366, .381, 384, 400, 408, 411, 434, 438, 439, 44.5, 4.51, 468, 474, 487, 505. .531, .587, 606, 607, 610, 617, 618, 630, 631, 633; cr. XXXV. i, Ixxxii, cxxxix, 394, 431, 457, 469, 596, 618 Collard^ Royer, 488 Collective words, xlii College Courant. cr. cxiv ColUngwood, Lord, q. 198 Collocation, 427 Colloquies, Southeifs, 491 Colon, use of, 274 Colton, C. C, q. cxxxiv, 280 Columbia College, 597 Columbus, Christopher, 406 Combinations of words, 365 Comma, uses of, xxiii, xlii, Ixxxix compulsory use, 367-274 permitted use, 376-396 Commencement speeches, 306 Commendation, 4.5-55 Commonplaces, 306 Compactness, 193 Comparative degree, xxviii, xxix Comparison, 323 Compelling dis'ussion, 73 Complaint, 408 Complete images, 212, 250 Composition, xvii Compositions, children's, 309; histori- cal .subjects, 311 ; literary sub- jects, 311 ; subjects generally, 306, 309; suggestions, 309; topics, 313 Compression, 457, 460 Comte, Auguste, 330 Comus, 366 Concatenation, 483 Concede unessentials, 69 Conciliation, 534 Conciseness, 456 Conclusion, 519, 531 Condolence, notes of, 178 Confucius, q. 283, 286, 287 Congratulation, notes of, 178 Congreve, William, 139 Conjunctions, Ixxxvii, cxviii, cxxviii, cxxix Conjunction phrase, Ixxiv Connecticut Legislature, 350 Conservatives, 489 Consonants coiifounded, 155 Construction, grammatical, 353, 366, 368, 389,411 Construction TO. criticism, 587 Contempt, 144 Contractions, 364 Contradiction not argument, 63 Conventional jokes, 110 Conventionalities, 10 too rigid, 173 Conversation, 1-170, 30,5, 325, .505 Cooke, G. W,,329 CQ.pyright8, 503 Corueille, Pierre, 13, 17, 560, 583 Cornhill Magazine, q, 15, 59, 139, 142 ; cr, xxviii, 619 Correcting proof, 497 Corrections, 194, 496 Countess of Pembroke, Bpitaphon, 472 Cousin, Victor, 559 Cowden-Clarke, Mary, 456 GENERAL INDEX 649 Cowley, Abraham, or. Ixxi Cowper, William, 123, 348, 563, 639 ; q. xoix, oviii, 72, 119, 308, 287, 638, 643 ; cr. 383 Crawford, Mrs., 158; q. 479 Creation, 305 Crispin, Mr., 436 Crispness, 197 Criticism, 48, 143 ; importance of, 588 ; reading as a means of, 583 Criticism vs. construction, 587 Critics, -611 Crosby, Sheriff, cr. 434 Cross-examination, 70-73 Cruelty to Children, Society for the Prevention of, 488 Culture, 373 Curtis, 6. 339 Gushing, Hon. Caleb, 351 Dactyls, 636 Daggett, Hon. RollinM., cr. 433 Dalgleish, Walter Scott, q. 344 Dallas, B. S., 487. 511, 595 ; q. 105, 131, 610. 611 Dame Partington, 85 Dana, C. A., 408 Dana, James D., cr. ciii Dana^s Household Book of Poetry^ 408 Danbury News, 418 Dandy, a, 489 Dangers of discussion, 63 Dangers of wit and humor, 133-136 Daniel, 481 Daniel, Book of, 374 Dante degli Alighieri, 344 D'Arblay, Madame, q. 366 Darwin, Charles, 506 ; q. 99 Dash, use of, 3a5-367, 373 Dating letters, 183 Davies, Lady Eleanor, 481 Davies, Sir John, 481 Davis, Senator, q. 514 Day, H. N., q. Ixxvii Death from laughter, 100 Death, references to, 331-333 Beclnration of Independence, cr. 457 Definite praise, 48 Definite purpose, 190 Definitions, authorized, 3.53, 379 Definitions, forming, 380 Definitions of the period, 489 Definitions of poetry, 593 Be Laude Oalvorum, 479 Delaune. Henry, q. 388 Delay, 337 Delivery, 563 ; requires study, 562 DeUe Sedie, 552 Delmer, C, or. xxvii Delsarte, Francois q. 553, 570, 571, 578, 579 Demosthenes, 463, 515, 523, 531, .534, 539, 547, 563, .564 Denison, Abp., q. 63 De Quincey, Thomas, 434. 460 ; q. Ixxxvii, cxxxii, 43, 96, 384, 345, 354, 359, 505 A Describing the weather, 353 \ Description, 343-355, 30.5, 535 Description at first hand, 244 Descriptive poetry, 599 Details, important, 86, 213, 324 memory for, 213 specific, 334, 349 when characteristic, 330 Determinatives, 413 Betroit Free Press, 74 Development of the subject, 337 De Vere, Scheie, q. 373, 374, 425, 538 ; cr. cxv Diaeresis, 263 Dickens, Charles, 369, 638: cr. 391, 476 Diction, variety in, 470 Dictionary authority, 162, 164 Diderot, Denis, 551 Didot, M., 496 Difificulties of speech, 153-181 Difficulty of punctuation, 376 Dignity, 36 Dilke, C. W., or. 397 Dime novels, 310, 335 Dinner-table age, 133 Direct preparation, 15 Directness, 193, 11)7, 448, 449 Discouragement, 502 Discourse, bold outlines, 338 ; har- mony, 340 ; plan of, 335 ; pro- portion, 340 . Discourtesy ignored, 30 Discretion, 18, 196, 336 Discussion, 62-80, 137 Disguised reproof, 56 Dishonest artifices, 88 Disraeli, Benjamin, 20, 28, 93, 97, 374, 387, 396, 491, 579; q. 486; cr. Ixi, cxviii Disraeli, Isaac, 390, 395 Distinctness, 151, 159 Diversions of Parley, 438 Division, the, 519" Divisions of poetry, 599 Do, did, done, Ixiv, cxxvi Dobell, Sydney, 539, 630 Dodington, George Bubb, q. 83 Domestic woman, a, 489 650 GENERAL INDEX. Dominique, 429 Pan Quixote, 133 ; q. 266 borival, M., 551 Dorset, Countess of, q. 459 Doucet, Camille, 579 Dramatic poetry, 599 Drew, B., q. 363 Drvden, John, 359, 639; q. 290, 294, 613, 616 ; cr. xxxvi, 426, 456 Dryden, £Js.tay on, 587 Dual forms, xxx Dumas, Alexander, 18 Duprez, M., 555 Diirer, Albrecht, q. 143 Dwight, Joseph, 453 Ease of narration, 208 Eastlake, Lady, cr. 619 Eastlake style, 530 Echo verses, 483 Economy of attention, 457 Edwards, A. B., cr. 382 Edwin the Fair, 507 Egotism, 138-149, 500 Elegiac stanza, 640 Elements of English Prosody, 632 Elephant, the, 309 Elijah, 605 ' "EUot, George," 638; q. 266, 287, 290, 295, 489 Elizabeth, Queen, 466 ElUott, Consul A. B., cr. 424 Ellis, Mrs., q. 290 Eloquence. 505 Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 315 ; q. cxxxvii, 8, 9, 11, 87, 92, 103, 138, 283, 386, 287, 2S9, 449, 450 ; cr. 617 ; literary habits, 339 Emphasis, xx, .566, 570 Encyclopeedia Britarmica, 493 English verse, 633 English words, 3.53 Envelope addresses, 181, 203 Epic poetry, 599 Bpictetus, 477 Epigrams, 467, 486, 605 Epitaphs, 472, 473 Epithets avoided, 230 Equivocal answers, 383 Equivocal verse, 482 Equivocal words, 399, 409 ,' ' Erasmus, 441 ; q. xcviii, 5 Erskine, Henry, 508 Erskine, Thomas, q. 118 Esmond, Henry, 325 ; cr. 413 Essay, the, 209, 238, 305, 505; bold outUnes, 338; delay, 337; half done, 331 ; harmony, 340 ; how to begin, 333 ; plan of, 335 ; pro- portion, 340 ; rules for, 334 Essence of American Humor, 503 Etherege, George, q. Ixvi Euphony, 469 Eurybia'des, 511 Eve''s Legend, 480 Everett, Edward. 227, 540 Exclamation, 603 Exclamation point, 256, 257 Excursion, lT,e, 439, 469 Exercises, xviii, xxiii, xxiv, xxv, xxvii, xxix, xxxi, xxxvi, xlii, xlvi, xlvii, xlviii, Iv, Ivii, Iviii, Ixii, Ixiii, Ixiv, Ixvi, Ixx, Ixxiii, ixxv, Ixxvi, Ixxxii, Ixxxiii, Ixxxiv, Ixxxviii, xcvi, xcvii, c, ci, cv, cvii, cix, cxv, cxvii, cxviii, cxix, cxxi, cxxiii, cxxv, cxxvii, cxxx, cxxxiv, cxxxviii, 160, 165, 257, 294, 296, 377, 397, 403, 461, 484, 501, 603, 606, 608, 643 Expansion of words, 364 Exposure necessary, 34 Extemporaneous speaking, 532, 537 Fables, 630 Fair Penitent, The, .574 Familiar subjects, 307 Familiar things interesting, 1 74, 348 Familiarity, 40, 41 Family bickerings, 40 Family ties, 172 Fanshawe, C. , q. 157 Farragut Pageant, The, 309 Fashions, 373 Features of scenery, 243 Febve, M., 554. 581 Feelings as well as facts, 348 Feet, 635 Felicity, 472, 474 Peltham, Owen, 360 Fene'lon, Francois, 520 ; q. 283 Fielding, Henry, q. 11, 451, 489; cr. xxxii, cxxviii, 394, 416 Fields, James T., 503 Figurative language, 601 Figures. 601 ; classification of, 602 ; danger in using, 631 Pill in the picture, 250 Final words, 570 Firman, H. B., q. xxxii Fitting word, the, 474 Flatterers. .^3 Fletcher, Bishop of Nismes, q. 268 Fletcher, Mrs., q. 284 Flood, the, 460 GENERAL INDEX. 651 Folding letters, 301 Pontenelle, Bernard de, q. 4S8 Foofce, Samuel, q. 145 Foreign idioms, 3f)9 Foreign words, 366, 368 Form peculiarities, 484 Forrest, Edwin, 431 Fors Clavigera, 438 Forster, Nathaniel, 365 Foster, John, 531 ; q. 231, 613 Fox, Charles James, 349, 359, 368, . 531 ; q. xcix, 509 Pox, W. J., cr. XXV Franklin, Benjamin, 478 Frankness, 141, 143, 145, 173, 196, 247, 527 Fraser's Magazi7ie, q. 198 Freeholder, cr. 413 Freeman, E. A. , 496 French lessons, 370 Puller, Margaret, q. 175 Fuller, Thomas, 613 ; q. 883 ; cr. xlvii Funny Polks, q. 431 Funny man, the, 512 Fusel'i, Henry, 610 Fusion of ihe ideas of others, 321 Gambetta, Leon, 514 Garfield, President, 356 Garriok, David, 547, 563 Gasconading, 148 Gaskell, Mrs. Mary, q. 416 ; cr. 417 Gathering material, 319 Gay, John, q. 383 Gelatic system, 133 Gender, 389 Genderless persoiial pronoun, cr. 416 General words, 410 Genteel, 373 Gentlemen, .374 Geoffrin, Mme., 66, 76 German gender, 390 Gesture, 568, 575-579 ; fundamental rule for, .577 Gibbon Kdward, cr. xxv, xxxviii, 412 Oibson, Life of John, cr. 619 GilfiUan, Geo., or. 617 Gilniore, J. H., q. xlvi, 1, Ixxv, 395 Girard, Abbe, 486 ^ Giving references, 1 79 Gladstone, W. Ewart, 491, 613 Glassius, 624 Glossary, 663 Glucose, 489 Goethe, Johann "Wolfgang von, q. 134, 287, 342, 487 Golden Age, q. 422 Goldsmith, Oliver, 133, 139 ; q. 102, 386 ; cr. 295 Good breeding, 3-11 Good manners, 9, 10, 17, 42 Good temper, 529 Good Words, cr. civ Good-nature, 36, 77, 267 Gorgias, 529 Gossip, 32-44 Gossipy letters, 198 Got, 438 Gough, John B., 84 Gould, Jay, 215 Gower, John, 371 Gracchus, 566 Grace Abounding, 531 Graham, G. F., q. 165, 360, 410: or. 295 Grammatical construction, 353, 366, 368, 389, 411 Grandmaison, Pavseval, 555 Grant, General, 439 Gray, Thomas, q. xix, 635, 640 Greek, 355 Greeley, Horace, 199 Green, J. R., q. 277 Grote, George, 489 Grote, Mrs. Harriet, 489 Gualter, John, 531 Guardian, The, cr. xxix, cvii, cxxv, 294 Guess, 469 Guiteau trial, 71 Gush, 173 Habit, 563 Hacke-nsack Republican, q. 57 Hackett, , q. 607 Hadley, James, q. xliii Halcombe, J. J., q. 319, 543, 548, 567, 573 Hale, Rev. Edward E., 310 HaU, Fitzedward, 164 ; q. li, 43, 358, 360, 361, 364, 371, 383, 400, 440, 470 ; cr. 394 Hall, John, q. 517 Hall, Robert, q. 349 ; or. 531 Halpin, P. A.,q. 370 Hamilton, Sir Wm., q. 104 Hamlet, 366, 43:2 Hancock, John, 477 Hardy, Thomas, 456 Hare, Julius Charles, q. xviii, xxvi Hare, T. C. and A.. W., q. 295 Harper's Weekly, q. xlvi ; cr. 235 Harris, James, q. Ixxiv Harrison, General, 453 Hart, John S., »i. Ixzi 652 GENERAL INDEX. Harte, Biet, 318, 425 Hasty reproof, 56 Haven, Brastns Otis, or. 93, 95 Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 133 ; q. 609 Hayne, General Robert, 506, 54,0, .566 Ha'zlitt, William. 4U. 628 ; q. 135, 270, 282, S.'jg ; or. 94 He oannot make a speech, .548 Helps, Arthur, q. Ixxiv ; or. xo Hennage, Dr., 400 Henry IV., 467 Henry, Patrick, or. 452 Heptameters, 612 Herbert, George, q . 291 Herder, John, q. 621 Hermit, The, 642 Hermogenes, 623 Heroic measure, 639 Heron, The, 581 • Hervey, George Wmfield, q. 33, 34, 35, 48, 48, 49, 59, 66, 73, 76, 77, 123, 143, 143, 226, 347, 437, 444, 445, 453, 471, 521, 522, 523, 524, 525, 531, 535, .595, 602, 607, 609, 612, 614, 621, 6124 Heylin, Peter, 481 Heywood, Legislator, or. 425 Hia.watha, 639 HiU, A. S., q. 270 ; or. 285 Hill, John, q. Ixi IxU Hippopotamus, the, 819 Hobbes. Thomas, 360 : q. 373 ; or. 93, 95 Hobbies, 21, 75. Hodg.son, Shadworth, 632 Hodgson, W. B., q. xliii and passim., 293. 897, 416, 417 Holland, Henry, 480 ; cr. cxxv Holland, J. G., cr. Ixxx Holmes, Gordon, .548, 559 Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 814, 589; q. 23, 130, 363, 613 Home Journal, 369 ; q. 52 Homer, 350, 4i;6, .597, 615 Honest praise, 52 Hood, Thomas, 318; q. 118, 119, 613 Hook, Theodore, q. 118 Hooker, Richard, q. 354 Horace, 451, .534 HortenBiuB, .564 , , ^ Hon din, Robert, 213 Houses of Stuart and Hanover, The, 483 How they play the piano in New Or- leans, 634 How to tell, 221-237 Howell, James, q. 486 Howells, cr. Ixxxvii « JBidibras, 606 Hudson, H. Norman, q. 343, 386 Hugbaldi, 479 Huiman body, discourse likened to, 336 Hume, David, 478 ; cr. xxxvi, Ivi Humor, 817, 358, 489, 513, 513 ; af- fected, 425 Hunchback age, 132 Hunt, Leigh, 455 ; q. 97, 178, 431, 633 Huxley, Thomas H. , cr. Ixxvii Hygiene of the voice, 556 Hymns, 643 Hyperbole. 603, 604 Hyphen, use of, 263 "I " DISCARDED, 142, 145, 197 I say, 442 Iambics, 035, 642 larabic trimeters, 641 Ideal, the, 593 Ideas, development of, 833 ; every- where, 326 ; organization of, 333 ; reflection upon, 333 Idiot age, 1 38 "If" clauses, cxiii, cxxiii-cxxv Ilgenfritz, Alice, cr. 423 JHnd, 2 he, 366, 612 _ Imagery, excess of, 622 Imaginary self, 141 Imagination, children's, 307 Imagination in narration, 335 Impatience, 332 Impersonal verbs, 395 Improbable incidents, 210 Improprieties, 3.53 hi Memoriani, 641 Inaporopriate words, 388 Incidents well told, 240, 341, 258 Incongruity, 111 Indelicacy, 39, 30, 83 Indirect object, Ixxiv Indolence, 337 Infinitives, xviii, xix, xxiv, xxv, 1, Ixxiv-lxxvi IngersoU, Robert G, or. 628, 629 Inquii-y. letters of, 180-185 Insolent, 8 Inspiration, 339 Inspiration of an audience, 539 Inter- Ocean, q. 90 Interrogation point, 256, 257 Introduction, the, 519, .533 Introduction, letters of, 179 Introduction to letter, 1 93 Invention, 331 Inversion, xxi, xxiii, ex Invitations, 176 GENERAL INDEX. 653 towa v.1. New Hampshire, 63 Irish Bulls, Essay on, 438 Irony, 133-128, 602, 605 Irregular measure, 638 Irregular verse, 638 Irresistible inferences, 233 Irreverence, 29, 83, 103, 229 Irving, Edward, 452 Irving, Washington, 348, 611 It, xix Italian "a," 157 Italics, 571 Its, xlv James, Henbt, Jr., cr. Iviii Jameson, Mrs., q. 296 Jean Paul, q. 613. See Richter, Jean Paul. Jefferson, Thomas, 363, 418 Jeffrey, Francis, Lord, 443 Jenkins, E. M., or. 501 Jeremiah, 624 Jerrold, Douglas, 4S8 ; q. 106, 108, 379, 609, 614 " Jintlemanly ladies," 375 Job, 605 John ideal vs. John real, 141, 347 Johnson, , q. 515, 635 Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 43, 66, 68, 141, 316-320, 349, 368, 439, 452, 468, 475, 589, 605; q. 13, 63, 110, 396 ; cr. Ixvii, cxiv, 163, 382, 385, 386, 396, 520, 628 Johnson, Samuel, q. 174 " Johnsonese," 385 Jones, William, q. cxxxvii Jonson, Ben, q. Ixiii, Ixvi, ovi, 31, 117, 359, 456, 465, 472, 483, 611, 627 ; cr. Ivii Journal and Courier, 497 Journey to the Hebrides, A, 385 Judicious praise, 46 Junius, 386 ; cr. Ixxxvii KiMES, Lord, 624; q. 210, 313, 224, 237, 331, 279, 458 Kant, Immanuel, 358, 460 Kat?ileen Mavoumeen, 479 Kean, Edmund, 140, 368 Keats, John, q. xc Keble, John, q. 609 Kemble, John Philip, cr. 165 Kempis, Thomas a, q. 286 Kenrick, Dr. , q. 443 Kenyon, Lord, cr. 619 Kidder, D. P., q. 331, 3.35 Kil, 430 Kinds of letters, 171-195 Kingsley, Charles, 439 Kirkman, T. P., q. 3.57 Kirkman's Grammar, cxix Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 140 Laeouche, John, 397 Lady of Shalott, The, 638 La Fontaine, John de, 321, 472, 560, 580 Za Fontaine's Fables, 574, 580 Laigne, Florence de, 495 Lamartine, Alphonse de, 489 Lamb, Charles, 96, 122, 345, 360 ; q. Ixiv, 87, 121, 177. 257, 266, 371, 273, 274, 295, 362, 366, 437, 619 ; cr. 125, 484, 616 Lamb, Mary, q. 174 Lancaster Intelligencer, 369 Lander, Walter Savage, q. 371, 373, 411, 475, 609; cr. cxxv, 412 Language and character, 43 Latimer, Hugh, cr. 453 Laughter not scornful, 94 a painful act, 100 Lavoisier, Anthony, 633 Law reporter, the, 599 Leadville Herald, cr. 424 Lear, .366, 474 Leeds Mercury, 368 Legible penmanship, 198-200, 205 Legoave, Ernest, q. 151, 156, 1.59, 473, 549, 5.50, 553, .554, 563, 565, 570, .575, 579, 580 Legonv(5, M. Sr., 5.55 Leibnitz, Gottfried Wilhelm, q. 104 Leslie, C. R., cr. xxviii Letter II, The, 157 Letters of courtesy, 176-180 Letters of friendship, 173-176 Letter-writing, 171-207, 305, 505 Lever, Charles James, q. 282 Lewes. George Henry, q. 382 Leivis, Sir George Comewall, 488 Libel vs. Truth, a5 Liberal Review, cr. 435 Liberal-minded man, a, 489 Liberals, 489 Lincoln, Abraham, q. 511 ; cr. 470 Linnaeus, Charles von, 633 Lipogrammatists, 480 Listening, 17, 21, 25, 69, 145 LitteU's Living Age, 325 Locke, John, q. 280 ; cr. xxix Logic, 530 Logical method, 313 London Academy, cr. 393 Athenceunn, cr, cxix Examiner, cr. xxix 654: GENERAL INDEX. London Fun, 158 Morning Chronicle, cr. xlix Quarterly Meview, q. 2L1 Saturday Eeview, q. 146 Society, q. 60 Spectator, q. 51 ; or. Ix Telegraph, cr. cxxviii Truth, 579 Long, Governor, 540 Long words, 386 Longfellow, Henry W., 315, 317, 639 ; q. 258, 635, 638; cr. oxxiv, cxxvi, 391 Longinus, q. cxxxi, 463 Looseness of thought, 425 Lord miin's Daughter, 494 Lome, Marquis of, 607 Loudness, 566 Louis XIV., 460 Lane's Labor Loxt, 366 Lowe, Robert, 113 LoweU. James Russell, 317, 318, 361, 503 ; q. 247 LoweU Courier, q. xxxii Loyola, Ignatius, 311 Lucian, 471 Lucrece, 366 Lucretius, 439 Ludicrous, the, 92-113 not absolute, 102 liuther, Martin, 450, 451 ; q. xoviii, 40; cr. 452 Luther's TaUe-Talk, 610 Lydgate, John, 371 Lyell, Sir Charles, 374 Lyly, John, q. 282 Lyrical JBallads, 443, 595 Lyrical poetry, 599 Macaronic Poetry, Morgan's, 483 Macaulay, Thomas Babington, 17, 349, 415, 473 ; q. xxxix, xcv, 216-220, 253, 390, 386, 438, 463, 495, 508, 587, 643; cr. xxxvii, xoviii, cviii, 394, 382, 395, 397 Macbeth, 366 McCarthy, Justin, or. 396 Maodonald, -q. 287 Macintosh, John I., cr. cxi McKenney, Thomas L., q.480 Maoklin, Charles, 368 Macmillan's Magazine, 494 McQueen, H., q. 153, 515, 529, 566, 567, 569 Magazine of American History, 470 Magnanimity, 70 Mail, q. 438 - Malaprop, Mrs., 381, 383 Malapropos, 381 Malaprops, 119 Malibran, Mme. Maria, 555 Mann, Horace, q. 389, 290 Manner vs. matter, 342 Manuscript, legible, 493 ; unrolled, 194 Marathon Independent, 489 Margaret Batcliffe, Epitaph on, 473 Mark Tapley, lUl, 133 Marlborough, Duke of, 51, 335 Marmontel, Jean Franjois, 524 ; q. 471 Marsh, George P., q. xliv, xlv, kxxvii, 156,- 165, 827, 356, 3B1, 376, 379, 324, 343, 354, 355, 357, 358, 363, 365, 376, 380, 386, 396, 411, 413, 470, 476, 491, 496, 507 ; cr. xlv, ciii, cxv, oxxv, 280, 383, 3a5, 393, 411, 470 Marshall, Thomas, 477 Martial; q. 110, 467 Marvellous not essential, 174, 348 Masquerading age, 133 Massillon, Jean Baptiste, 531 ; cr. 473 Massinger, Philip^ 344 Masson, J., cr. ex Material, gathering, 319 Matliews, Life of C. J., cr. 415 Mathews,. W., q. 46, 1«) ; cr. 50 Matter vs. manner, 343 Matthews, H., q. 291 Matzner, q. xxxvii Maury, J. S., 530 Max, Prince, 83 May and can, Ixxiii Mayhew, Henry, q. 414 Mazarin, Calrdinal, 93 MeasureB, 635 : heroic, 639 ; irregular, 638 Memorizing. 540 Memory for details, 213 Mendelssohn, Felix, q. 123 Merchant of Venice, 446 Meres, Francis, q. 108 Metaphor, 602, 605, 611 ; force of, 619 ; inconsistent, 607 ; mixed, 616 Method, 521 Method, logical, 313 Methods of preparation for speaking. Metonymy, 602, 604 Metternich, Prince, 489 Mill, J. S., 143 ; q. 105, 595 Miller, Hugh, 348 ; q. 391 Milton, John, 123, 139, 313, 344 347 3.58, 360, 366, 495, 587, 631, 640 '; q. xl, Ixvi, Ixxiii, Ixxxix, cxxxiv! 119, 295, 474, 636, 637, 638, 640 \ cr. xlviii GENERAL INDEX. 655 Mimicry, 87, 131, 578 Miners v,i. minors, 493 Miss or Mrs. ? 183 Mob, 37a Moderation, 513 'Modern Painters, 632 Mole, Franpois Rene, 551. 554 Molifere, Jean Baptiste, 321, 581 Monkey and the Cat, The, 580 Monroe, James, 363 Montague^ Mrs., 589 Montesquieu, Baron de, q. 488 Montgomery, James, q. cxxxvii Monthly Heview, The, 358 Monvel. Jacques-Marie, 570 Mood, 395 Moon, 6. Washington, 164; q. Ivi, 332, 413, 415, 430 Moore, Sir John, retreat of, 4C7 Moore, Thomas, 158, 348 ; q. cxxxviii, 479, 642 ; cr. xlviii, 383 Morgan, T. J., q. 240 Morgan''s Macaronic Poetry, 483 Morley, Henry, 631 Morley, John, 440 Mosquitoes, 397 Moths, 439 Moulton, L. C, q. 198 Movement, variety in, 471 Mozart, T. C. W. A., q. 343, 437 Much Ado About Nothing, 417 MuUer, Max, 478 Murdoch, James Edward, q. 160 Murray, Lindley, 43 Musical Herald, q. 370 Musical woman, a, 489 N. a Advoc.ate,ZU,i'il Napoleon, 139, 509, 543; q. 483, 487 Naquet, M., 514 Narration, 308-343, 305, 519, 525 of character, 311 of impressions, 313 of incidents, 209-311 Na'ial tones, 158 " Nasbv, Petroleum V.," 139 Nash, Thomas, 360 ■ Nashville American, 363 Naturalness, 346 Nature, 563 Necessity of wide reading, 338 Negation, Ixxviii-lxxxiv Negative prefixes, Ixxxi Neighbors, 33 Nelson, Horatio, 139, 456 Nelson, Jim, 634 Nevi Sngland Journal of Education, 577 ; cr. 437 New Jersey Journal, cr. 426 New words, 353, 354, 359, 364 ; facti- tious notoriety, 363 ; popular need, 363 New York Herald, cr. ex, 616 Observer, q. 398 Standard, or. 501 Sun, q. xxxi, cxviii, 240, 241, 360, 300, 423, 484, 545, 598, 608, 629 ; cr. civ, 617 Tribune, q. 350 ; cr. 393 World, q 299 Newman, Cardinal, 343 ; q. 345, 349 Newspaper age, 133 Newspaper English, 363, 500 Newspaper faults, 223 Newspaper letters, 191-194 Newspapers, 363 Newton, Isaac, 143, 610 Nice, 373 misuse, xxvi Nice person, a, 11 Nightingale, Florence, cr. 391 NilsBon, Mme., 315 Nonsense, 97 Norristown Herald, q. 333 North, Lord, q. 83 North, Roger, 451 North American Meview, cr. xxxi, cxviii Northcote, James, 610 Nose, breathing through, 559 Not, Ixxviii, cxix « Not only, but also, cxviii, cxxviii Notes, 539 Notes, arrangement of, 328 ; taking, 326 Nothing less than, 433 Noun, xviii, xxiv, xxxiv, Ixii, Ixxiv, xcv, cxii absolute phrases, Ixxxix Noun sentences, xcv-ci Novalis, cr. 135 Novel words, 353, 355 Novelty, 336, 354 Number, 393 Numbered pages, 194 Numeral adjectives, xli-xliii cardinal, xlii ordia^, xlii Oak and the Reed, The, 574, 580 Object, xviii, xxiv indirect, Ixxiv-lxxvi Objections, refutation of, .526, 537, 528 Objective genitive, xliii-xlv Oblige, 165 Observations. See Arrangement. 656 GENERAL INDBt. Observer, The, q. 260 Obsolete words, 353, 354 Obtruding, 8+, 108, 146 Occasional reproof, 59 O'Connell, Daniel, 540 Odyssey, 613 Official position, 204 Oliphant, Mrs., 443 Omission, 411 One, U17 One side of sheet, 194 Ooly, Ixxxiv-lxxxvii Onomatopoeia, 474 Opening sentences, 565 Or, cxxi-cxxiii Oral punctuation, 572 Oration, the, 505 Orders by letter, 186-188 Originality, 320 Ossian, q. 286 Othello, 366 "Ouida,"439 Ovid, q. 513 Oysters, 423 Ozanam, Jacques, q. 107 Paine, . 287 Paine, W. Perry, 503 Palindrome, the, 482 Fall Mall Budget, cr. xxii Gazette, 473 ; q. 64 ; cr. xJix, 393 Pangrammatists, 480 . Parables, 630 Paradise Lost, 366 Paradise Regained, 366 Paradox, a, 539 Paradoxes, 486, 489 Parentheses, 272, 441 Park, Mungo, 404 Parker, Richard G , cr. Ixxxii Parr, Dr., 347. 386 Participle, xviii, xxiv, xxv, xlviii-1, Ixii, Ixxiv Participle phrase, xlix, 1, Ixxvi, Ixxviii, cix, ex "Partington, Mrs.," 383 Partition, the, 519 Pascal, Blaise, q. 342, 533 Pastoral poetry, 599 Patterson, Calvin, q. 163 Pause, the, 636, 637 Pauses, 573 Payn, James, cr. cxxviii Peabody, Dr., q. 364 Peck's Sun, q. 433 Pembroke, Countess of, Epitaph on, 473 Penman's Art Journal, q. 300 Penn, William, cr. xxxvi Pentameter, 639 Pepperiness, 78 Perception of the ludicrous, 105-113 enjoyed as difficult, 109 not to be acquired, 106, 128 not to be obtruded, 108 not universal, 105 value not factitious, 107 wit and humor, 114 Percy Anecdotes, 563 Pdre de Famille, 551 Perfection, 351, 434, 465 Period, uses of, xviii, 357-259 Periodic structure, 440 Peroration, 531 Persiflage. 137 Person (of nouns), 70 Personal reflections, 108, 244, 245 Personification, 602, 630 Perspective, 251 Perspicuity, 351, 434, 448, 570 Persuasion, 505, 533 Pha;druB, 321 Phelps, Austin, q. Ixii, Ixxxvi, Ixxviii, cxxi, 346, 348, 350, 351, 360, 362, 365, 384, 419, 421, 438, 440, 448, 453, 463, 466, 469. 606, 538, 604, 610, 622, 628 ; cr. 385 PhilKps, Wendell, 540 ; q. 226 " Phoenix, John," q. xli, 118, 119 Phonographic echoes from Commence- ment, 306 Piano-playing, 624 Piers the Plowman, 371 Pilgrim's Progress, cr. 6i7 Pitch of the voice, 554, 557, 566, 567 Pitt, William, 139, 508 ; q. xcviii ; cr. xxv Plainness, 450 Plato, 236; q. 57, 104 Plausible arguments, 63 Plautus, 321 Playful liberties, 27, 29 Pleasure, theory of, 104 Plumptre, Charles John, q. 163, 164, 548, 574 Plutarch, 623 Poe, Edgar Allan, 473 ; q. 476 Poetry, 587 ; aim, 593 ; artistic in, 595 ; ballads. .599 ; definitions of, 592 ; descriptive, 599 ; distinguished from oratory, 593 ; from prose, 627 ; divisions of, 599 ; dra- matic, .599 ; epic, 599 ; language of, .598 ; lyrical 599 ; pastoral, 599 ; the prophetic in, 594 ; questions concerning, 596 ; re- &BNERAL INDEX. 657 fleotive, 599 ; thythm of, 630 ; songs, 599 ; subjective element in, 598 Point of a story, 85 Politeness, 42 Polyeucte^ 583 Pope, Alexander, 139, 140, 366, 482, 6i:i9: q. cxxxiv, oxxxvi, 32,, 272, 279, 386, 387, 394, 353, 474, 475, 478, 635, 639 ; cr. 294, 618 Popular Orammar^ cr. 426 Porson, Biohard, 43 Port Royal writers, 143 Porter, Bbenezer, q. Ixv, 151 , 153, 154, 155, 647, 557 Porter, Jndge, 71 Possession in the finder's name, 331 Possessives, xxv, xliii-xlvii Possibilities of correspondence, 194 Possibility of praise, 47 Postal-card errors, Ixxxiv Postal orders, 187 Post-office addresses, 183 Potier, Charles, 570 Power, 351, 434, 448, 570 Practical jokes, 131, 133 Practical refutation, 64 Precision, 184, 188, 351, 399, 434, 448 Predicate, xvii, Ixii-lxxvi auxiliaries, Ixiv-lxxiv, cxxv do, did, Ixiv, cxxvi may, can, Ixxiii shall, will, Ixv-lxx, Ixxii should, would, Ixx-lxxiii Preface, v Preferences exaggerated, 37 Pre-humoristic age, 133 Prejudice, 528 Preparation, 305 Preparation for speaking, 537, 542 Preparation for the press, 491 Prepositions, li-lviii table of appropriate, lii-lv i Preposition phrases, xxv, 1-lxii, Ixxiv, Ixxvi, Ixxxviii Preservation of the voice. 556 Press, preparation for the, 491 Pretension, 97 Priestley, Joseph, 381 Prime, Dr., q. 45 Prior, James, cr. 415 Prior, Matthew, q. 896 Priority of phrases, Ixxxix Private reproof, .57 Privileged person, a, 489 Procter, Bryan Waller, 483 Proctor, R., q. 494 Professor, 374 PxoUxity. 460 Promptness, 196 Pronouns, xvui, xxiv, Ixxiv ; ambigu- ous, 413 ; one, 417 ; reflexive, 417 Pronunciation, 151, 162-166 Pronunciation of '"pronunciation," 164 Proof, correcting, 497 ; reading, 492 Proper names, 165 caution in using, 226 Prophetic, the, in poetry. 594 Proposition, the, 519, 525 Propriety, 351, 379, 400, 434 Prose, 631 Prose and poetry distinguished, 627 Proverbs, 486 Provincial words. 366, 370 Prudery, 29 Pruning, 456, 457 Puck, cr. 223 Puff, Mr. Orator, 556 Pugna Porcorum, 479 Punch, q 19, 158, 420, 487, 491 Punctuation, xviii, xxiii, xlii, Ixxxix. 256-300, 570, 572 absolute rules, 3.56-375 rules of judgment, 376-300 Pungency, 514 Punning, 477 Pirns, 111, 117-122, 145, 614 Purity, 351, 353, 400, 434 Purpose vs. attainment, 135 Put Yourself in his Place, 451 Puttenham, George, 371 Puzzles, 428 Quakers, 428 Quarterly Review, q. 347, 360 Questions, children's, 308 Questions, suggestive, 12, 31, 44, 61, 80, 137, 1.50 Quin, Edward, .574 QuintiUan, 511. 530, 523, 5:24, .530, 564, 566, 602, 623; q. 94, 350, 434, 436 Quiz, 362 Quotation marks, 263 Quoted praise, 53 Rabbit, a, 380 Babelais, Francis, 360 ; q. 489 Bachel, 480, 560 Bacine, Jean, q. 17, 583 Radicals, 489 Rambler, The, cr. 394 Ramsey, Dean, q. 118 Ratcliffe, Margaret., Epitaph on, 473 658 GENERAL INDEX Eeade, Charles, 451 ; q. 119 Beadiness, 13, 69 Reading, not too much, 333 ; wide, 333 Reading aloud, 549, 578 ; art of, 580 ; as a means of criticism, 583 Rebuffs, 503 Receiving compliments, 55 Recognized phrases, 3 Recommendation, letters of, 179 Redundance, 418 Reference to self, 140, 317 Reflective poetry, 599 Reflexive pronouns, 417 Refutation of objections, 526, 537, 528 Registering letters, 187 Regnier, J. A. A., q. 160 Regrets, notes of, 177 Relative clauses, 277 Relaxation needed, 93 Remitting money, 189 Repetition, 462 Reproduction, 305 Reproof, 55-60 Reserve, 513, 514 Reserved people, 146, 147 Rest after exertion, 557 Setailer^ q. 424 Retort, 467 Revealment in history, 215 Revenge, 63 Reynolds, Joshua, 49, 459 Rhetorical pause. .573 Rhophalic verse, 483 Rhyme. 633 ; rules for, 633 Rhythm, cxii, 637; in English verse, 633 ; necessary to poetry, 630 ; requires change in words, 634 Richmond, Dean, 199 Richter, Jean Paul, 365, 563, 624> See Jean Paul. Ridicule, .539 Rivals, The, 381 Robberds, J. W., 361 HobespieiTe, Kemoir of, er. 425 Roche, Sir Boyle, q. 429, 537 Rochester Democrat, cr. 222 Rodogune, 583 Rogers, Henry, 623 Rogers. Samuel, q. 39 "" Eoget, Peter Mark, 400 Rolling the r's, -156 Romantic measure, 641 Romeo and Juliet; 366 Roscommon, Earl of, q. 295 RouRseau, Jean Jacques, 13, 43, 219 Rowlands, Henry, q. 354 Rubini, Jean Baptiste, .551 Rufus, 633 Rules for essay-writing, 334 Rules for letter-writing, 196-307 Rush ton, William, q. 392 Ruskin, John, 392 ; q. 143, 286, 34.5, 416, 417, 531, 632; cr. 397, 413, 438, 468 Russell, W., q. 563, 563, 564 Saadi, q. 40, 383 Sacred sabiects, 29, 83, 103 Sagacity, 339 St. Paul Pioneer Press,cr. 332 Saint-Simon, Claudius Henry, 472 Sainte-Beuve, Charles Augustin, 8, ' 583 Sales, Francis de, 444 Sam Weller, 101 Sampson, H, cr. cxxvii Samson, M., .564, 574 'Sandeau, Jules, .579 Sarcasm, 123-138 SardanapaluE, 459 Satire, 133 Satyrns, 562 Savage, Richard, cr. xxxvi Saxe- Weimar, Duke of, 374 Say, M.,528 Scandal, 33 Schiller, T. C. P., q. 108 Schlegel. Frederick, q. 4.50 School Bulletin, q. 180-190, 437 Scott, General, 453 Scott, Walter, 348 ; q. 257, 280, 483, 494, 49.5, 611, 641 ; or. xxxvi, 597 Seek to please, 16 Selecting a subject, 306 Self-conceit, 138, 317 Self-ingratiation, 37 SeU-revealmeut, 149, 317 Seneca, q. 350, 607 Sense, 339 Sentences, xvii complex, xov-cxii compound, cxiii simple, xvii-xciv Sentimentality, 173 Sermoti, Essay on the Composition o/a, 313 Sermons, 444, 535 Serpentine letters, 483, 484 Sesame and Lilies, 438 Sewell, William, q. 386 Seymour, Horatio, q. 387 Shaftesbury, Barl of, q. xxi Shairp, T., q. 343, 342, 343, 346, 349, GENERAL INDEX. 659 373, 5S8, 589, 598, 593, 594, 595, 598, 598, 599, 632 Shakspere, WUUam, 165, 219, 366, 344, 347, 354, 366, 456, 508. 511, 535, 589, 597, 615, 638, 640 ; q. xix, Ixiii, Ixvi, Ixviii, Ixxii, Ixxiii, xcix, ci, ciT, cviii, cxxi, cxxiv, 78, 104, 111, 118, 119, 325, 257, 261, 263, 268, 269, 286, 417, 568, 636, 637, 641 ; cr. 618 Shall and will. Ixv-lxx, Ixxil Shedd, W. G. T., q. 348, 436, 451, 477 Sheepfolds, a Treatise on, 438 Shelley, Percy Bysshe, q. Ixii ; cr. oxxvi Shenstonej William, 611 ; q Ixxiv ; cr. Ixvii, Ixxii Sheridan, R. B., 349, 368, 397, 467; q. 279, 284, 488, 574 Sheridan, T., q. 151, 476 Sheridan's Works, 467 Short paragraphs, 194 Short words, 386 Should and would, Ixx-lxxiii Shuldham, E. B., q. ,557 Sick King in Bokhara, q. 635 Sidney, Philip, 476, 594; q. 290; cr. 94,95 Signatures, 200 caution as to, 201 Silence, 145 Silver by mail, 186 Simeon, .534 Simile, 602, 605; adaptability, 607; belittling, 606 ; condensed, 613 ; force of, 619; trite, 606 Simonides, 612 Simplicity, affected, 443; excessive, 443 ; must not seem condescen- sion, 443 ; of expression, 439 ; of thought, 437 ; ws. triteness, 445 Sincerity, 448, 511 Sing-song, 572 Skoda, Prof., 56 Slang, 371 ; uses of, 375 Small pages. 194 Smith, Albert, cr. 391 Smith, C. J., cr. Ivi Smith, G. B., cr. 396 . Smith, Goldwin, 14S ' Smith, Sydney, q. xcviii, 3, 9, 17, 45, 54, 62, 67, 69, 72, 8,5, 104, 105, 114, 116, 119, 120, 128, 129, 130, 197, 331, 266, 324, 347, 380, 386, 388, 416, 439. 460, 467, 487, 489, 539, 609, 610 ; cr. 43, 125, 135 So, Ixxxvii Sociability unappreciated, 253 Society, 17 Society Small Talk, q. 38, 51, 5.5, 145 Socrates, 127 ; q. .57, 68 Solecisms, 353, 389 Sohcitons reproof, .59 Somers, Lord, 515 Songs, 599 Sonnet, the, 640 Sophocles, 439 Sore throat, 557 Sothern, Edward, 131 Soult, Marshal, q. cxiv South, Robert, 337; q. cxxxviii, 138 Southey, Robert, q. 359, 360, 361, 491 ; cr. 415 Speaker, the, 516 Speaker, the character of a, 509 Spectator, The, 466, 483 ; q. 346, 358, 44:3, 468, 480, .529; cr. Ixxxu, cxxvi, cxxvii, 394, 393, 417, 618 SpeHroscopic Analysis, 494 Spencer, Herbert, 434 ; q. xxxiii. xxxv, xci, cxxxi-cxxxv, 315, 325, 289, 357,459; cr. xlvi, 97-100 Spenser, Edmund, 631, 639, 640; q. 3,54, 635. 640 Spenserian stanza, 640 Splitting of particles, Ix Spontaneity, ,^38 Springfield Republican, q. cxiv ; cr. StaSl, Mme. de, q. 16, 35, 133, 289, 290 Standards of pronunciation, 162 Stanley, Dean, 115 Stedman, E. C, cr. cxxv Steele, Richa.rd, 133, 468, 611 ; q. 287; cr. Ixxii, cxxxvii Stephen, Leslie. 415; cr. xxxvi, cxxvi Sterne, Laurence, 117 ; q. Ixviii, 105, 273 Stock stories, 82 Stockhausen, M., .551 Stopping argument, 72 Stories as adjuncts, 81 Stories in argument, 81 Stormont. Lord, 349 Story-telling 81-90, 308, 340, 241 Stuart, Charles James, 481 Stuart, James, 481 Stress, 570 Style, 348 ; definition of, 344 ; natu- ralness, 346 ; purity, 353 ; quali- ties of, 351 Subdivision, 312 ; specimen, 314 Subject, xvii, xviii-xxiv, cix, cxxvii ; summarized, xxiv SubjecU^e element in poetry, 598 660 GENERAL INDEX. Subjects, choice of, 18 ; development of, 20, 327; faraijiar, 307; selecting, 306 ; stated, 318; sub- dividing, 312 Subjunctive mood, xix Suggestive questions. See Questions. Superficial argument, 65 Superlative degree, xxix-xxxi Superlatives avoided, 227 Superscriptions, 181, 203 Surrey, Earl of, 640 Sweetened reproof, 58 Swift, Jonathan, 126, 133, 372, 603, 611 ; q. Ixxili, .5-7, 43, 129, 236, 267, 487, 488, 523, 613 ; or. xxix, XXX, Ixxi, ciii, cxvi, cxvii, cxviii, cxxx, 11, 68, 232, 272, 412, 426 Swinburne, Algernon Charles, q. 282, 288 Sympathy, 149, 237 Synecdoche, 602, 604, 611 Synonyms, 399 Table-talk, 13-30, 145, 253 Tacitus, 445, 596 Tact, 339 Tadema, Alma, 478 Taking notes, 326 Talleyrand, 123 Talma, Fraui,ois, 156, 551, 552, 555 Talma, Mme., 559 Tattooing, 427 Tautophony, 477, 484 Taylor, General, 452 Taylor, Jeremy. 495 ; q. 288 Taylor, John, 360 Taylor, William, 358, 361 ; or. 382 Taylor's JSdwin the Pair, 507 Technical metaphors, 358 Technical words, 355 Tedious stories, 83, 148, 193 Teeth closed, 553 Temper uncontrolled, 79 Temple, Sir William, q. 83 ; or. oxvi 'Tennyson, Alfred, 64-0 ; q. xx, 214, 285, 290. 475, 638, 641 Teunysonian stanza, 641 Tense, 393 Terence, 321 Tetrameters, 638, 639, 642 Thackeray, W. M., q. 53, 149, 325, 354, ; 369, 392, 468, 489, 613 ; or. xxxi, xxxvi, xxxvii, Iviii, Ix, Ixxxiii, cxxvi, 412, 413, 415 That, xix, XXXV, xxxviii-xl, cvii The, xxxv-xxxvii The first two, xxxvii Jhe former, the latter, xxxviii The one, the other, xxxviii Themistocles, q. 487, 511 Theodolite, the, 435 Theodorio, 483 Theories of the ludicrous, 93-104 pleasure, 104 Thesaurus of English Words, 401 This, xix, XXXV, xxxviii-xl This, the other, xl Tholuck, Friedrioh, or. 618 Thompson, D. W.,q. 222 Thojnson,. James, 603, 640 Thorn, The, 443 Thought-quickening, 237 Three black crows, 36 Throat, sore, 557 ; protection of, 558 Thurber, S., q. 312 TibuUus, 439 Tickell, Thomas, q. xviii Tillotson, Archbishop, 569 ; or. 416 Times-Democrat, 625 Titles, 203, 438 Titmarsh, Michael Angelo, 396 Tone in narration, 221 Tooke, Home, 604 Topical analyses. See Analyses of Chapters. Tramp Abroad, The, 390 Tramp overmatched. 74 Trench, R. Chevenix, q. 399 Trimeters, 638, 642 ; Iambic, 641 Triteness, 445 Trivialities, 215 Trochaic feet, 636 TroUope," Anthony, 617 ; or. xxil, 391 Tropes, 601, 605 Truth, 483 Truth vs. libel, 33 Turennes, Marshal, 527 " Twain, Mark," 347, 390, 425 ; q. 85, 478, 488 Twitting on facts 28 Tyndall, J., 559 Typical incidents, 214, 230 Typographical errors, 383, 492, 493, 494-496 Unemphatic endings, cix Unequal discussion, 73 Unfit discussion, 74 Unity, 530 Unity, essential, cx-cxii, cxiii-cxviii ; in narration, 235 Unity Club, 314 Universal Mageusine, 4.39 Unnatural incidents, 310 Unobtrusive praise, 50 Unpardonable errors, 163, 235 GENERAL INDEX. 661 Usage, national, 353, 366; present, 353 ; reputable, 353, 371 Usages of society, 7, 9, 10 Valerius Maximus, 564 Vanbrugh, Sir John, or. 391, 394 Vandenhoff, George, q. 16^, 571 Vanity, 138, 144, Sil6, 510 Variety, 470 ; in diction, 470 ; in move- ment, 471 ; in verse, 636 Vasa, Gustavus, 405 Velvet glove, the, 455 VenantiuB Fortunatus, 521 Venus and Aijonis, 366 Verbal nouns, xxiv Verdant Green, 173 Vera, Scheie de, q. 373, 374, 425, 538 Versification; 633 Verstegan, Richard, q 354 " Very" to be avoided, 227 Vieksburg Jlerald, q. 424 Victoria, Queen, 492, 608 Vieyera, Antonio, q. 444 Vincent of Lerins, q. 336 Vinet, Alexander, 523, 524, 534; q. 331, 513, 514 Virgil, 439 Virtue, composition on, 306 Vocabulary, xxvii ; a/n extensive, 401 Vooiferousness, 66 Voice, the, 547 ; acquirement of a good, 548 ; hygiene of, 566 ; an interpreter, 559 ; loudness, .566 ; physiology of, 548 ; pitch of, 554, .557, .566, 567 ; preservation of, 556 ; proper use of, 550 ; strength of, 547 Voltaire, q. 171, 288 Wakeman, G., q. 333 Walpole, Horace, 619 " Ward, Artemas," 112; q. cxiv, 488 Ward, Dr., q. 453 Washington. George, q. 387 Watts, A. A., q. 438 Watts, Dr., 531 We, 500 Weather as a topic, 253 Webster, Daniel, 16, 71, 343, 506, .540, 566, 610 ; q. 284 ; cr. 452, 538 Weinberg, Isaac, 370 Weiss, John, q. 117, 124, 134, 620 ; cr. 85, 103, 130 Westminster Review^ cr. cxix, 433 What constitutes poetry, 587 What to teU, 213 What to write, 173 " What-we-do matters," 174 Whately, Richard, q. cxxxi, 63, 133, 236, 246, 250, 2.51, 313, 419, 422, 435, 437, 440, 4.56, 462, 465. 487, 507, 510, 511, 513, 520, .523, 523, 53.5, 526, 527, 538, 529, 530, 533, 539, 567, 611, 613, 615. 621, &33; cr. xxxiii, cxxvii, 416, 463, 623 Which, cvi, cvii Whipple, Edwin P., q. 107, 108 White, Richard Grant, 164, 371; q. xxiii, Ix, Ixvi, Ixxii, 157, 384; cr. xxxi, Ixxxi, ciii, 394 Whitefield, George, or. 452, 548 Whitman, Walt, 630 Whittier, John Greenleaf , 315, 317 Who, cvii Whose, xliv Wilkie, David, 611 Will of the audience, 533 " William Henry " letter, 175 William Buf us, 494 Williams, James, cr. xxix Williamson, Sir Joseph, 459 Willis, N. P., 360 Wilson, John, q, 383 Wineglass, The, 483 Winter Day on the Prairie, A, 589 Winthrop, R. C. q. 273 Wisdom of learning, 33 Wise. Governor, cr. 618 Wit, 317, 513 Wit and humor, 113-136 Wither, George, q. Ixvi Witty compliments, 53 Wolfe, Gen. James, 139 Wolsey, Cardinal, Couplet on, 479 Wood, Mrs. Henry, cr. .365 Worcester, Joseph E., q. lii, 291 Worcester''s Dictionary, cr. 393 Wordsworth, William, 43, 139, 266, 272, 439, 595, 597, 598, 640 ; q. Ixvi, Ixxi, 593, 627, 635, 641 ; cr. 443. 469, 475 Wotton, Sir Henry, 611 Writing discourses, 537 Written analysis, 541 Wycherley, William, q. 384 Yeast, 439- , Yield when convinced, 76 Tou was, 394 Young, Edward, q. xviii, 286, 474 Zaire, 551 GENERAL GLOSSARY. Ab-brSVi-ate, v, t. To shorten ; to abridge ; to contract. Ab-bre'vi-a'tion, 7i. Act ot shorten- ing ; contraction. Ab-nor'mal, a. [Lat. ah, from, and norma^ a rule.] iSot conformed to rule ; irregular. Ab'so-lute, a. Not limited ; uncon- ditional ; complete ; arbitrary ; des- potic ; positive ; peremptory. Ab'stract, a. Separate ; existing in the mind only ; abstruse ; difficult. — n. An abridgment or epitome. Ac-pent. n. Modulation of voice ; superior stress of voice on a sylla- ble ; a mark to regulate pronuncia- tion, distinguish magnitudes, etc. Ac-yess'i-ble, a. Capable of being ap- proached. Ac-c6rd'anQe, n. Agreement ; har- mony ; conformity. Ac-cu'mu-late, v. t^ To heap together. — V. i. To increase ; to be aug- mented. Ac-cii'mu-la'tion, oi. Act of accumu- lating ; a heap. Ac'cu-ra-cy, ?i. Exactness ; correct- ness ; closeness. Ac'cu-rate, a. Done with care ; with- out error. — Syn. Correct; precise; just. A-^Srb'i-ty, n. Bitterness of taste or ^ of spirit. Ad'ap-ta'tion, n. ■ The act of adapting ^ or fitting ; suitableness ; titness. Ad'e-quate, a. Fully sufficient ; equal ; proportionate ; correspondent. Ad'junct. n. Something joined to an- other. — a. Added to, or united with. Ad'u-la'tion, n. Excessive or servile flattery. Af-firm'a-tive, a. Affirming; declara- tory ; confirmative. — n. That which contains an affirmation. I Ag'gre-gate, v. t. To collect. Ag-grieve', v. t. To afflict; to op- press or injure ; to harass. Al-loy', n. A compoui^ of two or more metals ; a baser metal mixed with a fine. — v. t. To debase by mix- ing. Al-ly', n. [Lat. ad, to, and ligare^ to bind.] One united to another by treaty, or by any tie ; a confederate. — V. t. To unite by compact. Al'ter-ca'tion, n. Warm contention in words ; controversy ; wrangle ; dispute. Al'ter-na'tion, n. Act of alternating ; reciprocal succession. Am'bi-gii'i-ty, n. Doubtfulness of meaning. . Am-big'u-oQs, a.. Of uncertain mean- ing ; doubtful; equivocal, A-nal'o-gy, n. Agreement between things which are in most respects entirely unlike ; proportion. A-nal'y-sis, n. {pi. A-nal'y-sgs. ) Resolution of any thing into its con- stituent elements. An'a-lyze, v. t. To resolve into first principles or elements. A-nat'o-mize, n. To divide into the constituent parts, for the purpose of examining each by itself. An'ec-dote, n. A short story or inci- dent. An'nals, n. pi. A chronological his- tory ; chronicles. An-tag'o-nist, n. An opponent ; a competitor ; a contender. — a. Coun- teracting ; opposing. An'te-ped'ent, n. That which goes before. — a. Going before in time. — Stn. Prior ; preceding ; previous ; anterior ; foregoing. Aii-ti9'i-pate, v. t. To take or do be- fore ; to foretaste. 664: GENERAL GLOSSARY. An-tith'e-sis, n. (pi. An-titli'e-ses). Opposition of words or sentiments ; contrast. Ap'a-thy, n. Want of feeling ; insen- sibility. A-pos'tro-phe, n, [Gr. apo^ from, and strophe, a Liirning. ] A turning from real auditors to an imagined one ; contraction of a word, or the mark ['] used to denote such contrac- ^ tion. Ap'pel-la'tion, n. A name by which a tiling is called. — Syn. Title ; ad- dress; style. Ap-pl-S'ci-ate (-shi-), v. t. To value ; to raise the value of. — v. i. To rise in value. Ap-pre'ci-a'tion (-shi-a'shun), «. Act of appreciating or valuing ; a just estimate. Ap'pre-hend', v. t. To seize ; to con- ^ ceive by the mind ; to fear. Ap'pre-hen'sion, ?t.~ Act of appre- hending • conception of ideas ; fear ; ^ distrust. Ap'pre-hen'sive, a. Quick to appre- hend ; fearful. Ap-pro'pri-ate, a. Belonging pecu- liarly. — Syn. Fit ; adapted ; perti- nent ; suitable ; proper. Ap-prox'i-mate. v. t. To bring near ; to cause to approach. — v. i. To draw near ; to approach. Ap-prox'i-mate, a. Near ; nigh. Ap-prox'i-ma'tion, n. Approach. ArTai-tra-ry, a. Dictated by, or de- pending on, will ; bound by no law ; absolute in power. — Syn. Tyran- nical ; imperious ; unlimited ; abso- „ lute ; despotic. Ar'gu-ment, n. Reason alleged to in- duce belief ; plea. Ar-range'ment, n. Act of arranging ; ,, adjustment. Ar'ti-san, n. A mechanic. Art'ist, n. A professor and practiser of one of the fine arts. As'peot, n. Look ; air ; countenance ; appearance. As-serV, v. t To affirm. As-sO'ci-ate (-shi-at), v. t. To join in company ; to unite with.^-w. i. To unite in company or action. — a. Joined in interest ; united. As-sume, v, t. [Lat. ad^ to, and su- rnere, to take.] To take; to take for granted ; to pretend to possess. — V. i. To be arrogant. At-trib'ute, v. t. To ascribe ; to im- ^ pute. At'tri-bute, n. An inherent quality. Au'di-ble, a. Capable of being heard. Au'thor-ize, v. t. To give authority to; to make legal; to justify. Aux-il'ia-ry, a. Helping ; assisting. — n. A verb that helps to form the moods and tenses of other verbs. Awk'ward-ness, n. Ungracef ulness ; clumsiness. Ax'i-om, n. A self-evident proposi- tion or truth. — Syn. Maxim ; adage. Ax'i-om-at'ic, a. Pertaining to ax- ioms ; of the nature of an axiom. Bad'i-nage (bad'i-nazh), 76. Light or playful discourse. Ban'ter, v. t. Tp rally ; to ridicule ; to joke or jest with. — n. Raillery;, joke. Bom'bast (bum'bast), n. High sound- ing language ; fustian. Brev'i-ty, n. Conciseness. Ca'dentje, n. A fall of the voice in reading or speaking ; modulation. Ca-jole', V. t. To deceive by flattery ; to wheedle. Cal'um-ny, n. False and malicious accusation. — Syn. Slander ; defa- mation ; libel; abuse. Car'i-oa-ture, n. A representation ex- aggerated to deformity ; a ludicrous likeness. — v. t. To represent ludi- crously. Cat'e-go-ry, n. One of the highest classes to which the objects of knowl- edge or thought can be reduced ; predicament ; state ; condition. Cau'tion, n. Prudence ; care ; admo- nition ; injunction ; warning — v. t. To advise against ; to admonish. Cen-so'ri-oiis-ness, ?i. Quality of being censorious. Qha-grin' n. Ill-humor ; vexation. — V. t. To vex ; to mortify. Qir-cttm'fer-en^e, n. The line that bounds the circle. fir'cum-lo-cu'tion. n. The use of in- direct expressions. Qir'cum-scribe', v. t. To inclose ; to limit ; to confine. Qite, V. t. To summon ; to quote. Clas'si-fi-ca'tion, 7i. Act of arranging, or state of being arranged, in classes. Clause, n. Part of a sentence. ClSr'ic-al, a. Pertaining to the cler^. GENERAL GLOSSARY. 665 Cli'max, n. [Gf. klimax, a ladder.] Gradation of ascent in a sentence. Col-lect'ive, a. Formed by gathering ; inferring ; comprehending many. Collo-oa'tion, 7i. Act of placing ; ar- rangement. Col-lo'qui-al, a. Pertaining to, or used in, conversation. Com'bi-na'tion, n. Union or associa- tion. — Stn. Coalition ; conj unction ; conspiracy. CGm'men-da-tion, n. Praise; appro- bation. Com-par'a-tive, a. Estimated by com- parison ; not positive. Com-par'i-Bon, n. Act of comparing ; comparative estimate ; simile. Com-pile', V. ' t To compose out of materials got from other works. CSm'plai-sance', n. Civility ; cour- tesy ; urbanity ; politeness. C6m'ple-ment, «. That which com- pletes something else ; the full number. CSm'plex, a. Of many parts ; intri- cate* complicated. Com-plex'i-ty, n. A complex state ; intricacy. Com'pli-cate, v. t. To make complex or intricate — Stn. To entangle ; infold ; involve ; perplex C(5m'pli-ment, n. Act or expression of civility ; praise. — v. t. To flat- ter or gratify by bestowing praise upon. Com-port, V. i. To agree; to suit. — V. t. To behave ; to conduct. Com-poslte, a. Made up of parts ; compounded. COm'po-si'tion (-zish'un), «. Mixture ; combination ; arrangement or set- ting of type ; a written work. Corn-pound', v. t. [Lat. con^ with, to- gether, and ponere^ to set, place.] To mix in one mass ; to combine or unite; to adjust, — v. i. To come to terms of agreement. CSm'pre-hen'sive, a. Including much in small space. — Stn. Large ; full ; capacious. Com-prcs'sion, n. Act of pressing together. Con-^ede', v. t. To grant ; to admit as true or proper. Con-ggit', n. Fancy ; vanity ; pride of opinion. Con-^5ive', v. t. To form in the mind ; to imagine, Con-^en'ter, ) v. i, or t. To come or Con-(Jen'tre, J bring to a point. C6n'(, en-trate, or Con-gen'trate, v. t. To bring to a common centre, or to a closer union. CSn'tjen-tra'tion, n. Act of concen- trating. Con-(jii'i-ate, v. t. To gain by favor ; to win over. — Stn. To propitiate; to engage. Con-cise'ness, n. Brevity in speaking or writing. Con-com'i-tant, a. Accompanying. — n. A companion ; accompaniment. Con-dense', v. t. To compress into a smaller compass ; to crowd. COn'de-s^en'sion, n. Act of conde- scending ; aflFability. Con-dulence, n. Expression of grief or sympathy. Con-dupe', v, i. To tend ; to contrib- ute. Con-fute', V. t. To disprove ; to prove to be false. Con-grat'u-late, v. t. To wish joy to. — Stn. To felicitate. Con-grat'u-la'tion, n. Act of con- gratulating ; felicitation. Con-jecture, n. Opinion based on im- perfect knowledge ; surmise ; guess. — V. t. [Lat. con^ with, together, and Jace?*fi, jectus^ to throw.] To guess ; to suspect ; to surmise. Con-junc'tion, n. Union; connection; a connecting word. COn'scioiis-ness, n. Perception of what passes in one's own mind. Con'so-nant, a. Agreeable ; consis- tent ; accordant. — n. A sound lees open than a vowel ; a letter repre- senting such sound. Con-struc'tion, n. Act or form of con- structing; thing constructed ; struc- ture ; fabrication ; edifice ; interpre- tation. Con'strue, v. i. To translate, inter- pret, or explain. CSn'tem-pla'tion, n. Meditation ; study, as opposed to action. COn'text, 71. [tiat. con. with, together, ' and texius., knit.] Parts of a dis- course that precede and follow a sentence quoted. Con-trac'tion, n. The shortening of a word, by the omission of a letter or syllable. Con-trast', v. t. or i. To place or stand in oppcsition. 666 GENERAL GLOSSARY. Con-ven'tion-al, a. Agreed on ; stip- ulated ; sanctioned by usage. Con-verge', v. i. To tend toward one point. Con'ver-Ba'tion, n. Familiar dis- course ; behavior. Con-vcrt', v. t. To change to another form or state. Con-vio'tion, n. A proving guilty ; state of being convinced ; sense of guilt ; confutation. Con-vinge', v. t. To satisfy by evi- dence — STii. To persuade. Co-Or'di-nate, a. Holding the same rank or degree. Cop'-u-la, n. The word which unites the subject and predicate of a propo- sition. Cop'y-i^ig^t (-rit), n. The sole right of an author to publish a book, etc. — V. i. To secure by copyright, ^s a book. CDr-rel'a-tive, a. Having mutual re- lation, — n. One who, or that which, stands in a reciprocal relation to some other person or thing. Court'e sy (kurt'e-sy), n. [From court J\ Politeness; civility. Cre-duli-ty, n. Easiness of belief ; readiness to believe. CrI-te'ri-on, n. {pi. Cri-te'ri-a. ) A standard of judging. Crit'i-c^ise, v. t. To judge and remark upon with exactness. — v. i. To act as a critic, CrXt'i-fTsm, n. Art or act of criti- cising ; critical examination or re- mark. Cy'clc-pae'di-a, or Cy'clo-p5'di-a, n, A body or circle of sciences ; a dic- tionary of arts and sciences. De-dQc'tion, n. An abatement ; that which is deducted ; an inference. Def'er-enpe, n. Respect or concession to another. De-fine', v. t. To end ; to mark the limits of ; to explain ; to interpret, Def'i-nite, a. Having precise limits ; certain ; exact. Defi-ni'tion (-nish'un), n. Descrip* tion -of a thing by its properties ; explanation of the meaning of a word. De-liv'er-y, n. Release ; surrender ; style of utterance. D6m'on-strate, or De-m6n'-strate, w, t. To prove fully or to a certainty,^ SrN. To evince ; manifest. Dem'on-stra'tion, n. Proof to a cer- tainty. De-mon'stra-tive, a. Tending to dem- onstrate ; conclusive. De-pend'ent, a. Relying ; subordi- nate. — n. One subordinate to an- other, Der'i-va'tion, n. Deduction from a source ; act of tracing origin or de- scent, as of words, De-rog'a-to-ry, a. Detracting. De-scrip'tion, n. Act of describing ; account; class. De-scrip'tive, a. Containing descrip- tion. De'tail, or De-tail', n. A minute ac- count or portion ; a particular. De-tail', v. t. To narrate in particu- lars ; to particularize ; to appoint for a particular service. De-tract', v. i. [Lat, de, from, and tra- Aere, tractum^ to draw, ] To depre- ciate worth. — V. t. To slander. De-trac'tion, n. Slander ; defama- tion. De-vel'op, v. t. To unfold ; to un- cover ; to lay open to view. De'vi-ate, v. i. [Lat, de^ from, and viare^ to travd.]' To wander; to go astray ; to err, De-vise', v. t. To contrive ; to plan ; to invent ; to give by will. — v. i. To lay a plan. Dex'ter-otls, a. Expert in manual acts ; skilful ; adroit, Dex'ter-ous,ly, adv. With dexterity or skill, Di'a-logue, n, A discourse between two or more, Dic'tion, n. Manner of expression ; choice of words, Di-gres'sion (-gresh'un), n. A devia- tion, Di-la'tion, or Di-la'tion, ■«. Act of dilating ; expansion, Dis-card', v. t. To dismiss : to cast off._ Dis-cem' (diz-zSm'), v, L ori. To see ; to perceive and recognize ; to'judge. Dis-course', n. Conversation ; talk ; sermon ; treatise. — v. i. To con- verse; to talk. — V. t. To utter or give forth. Dis-creet', a. Prudent ; cautious ; sagacious. Dis-Qre'tion (-kresh'un), n, Pru- GENERAL GLOSSARY. 667 dence ; sagacity ; freedom fco act at will. Dis-crim'i-nate,'W. t. To distinguish ; to separate. Dis-crim'i-na'tion, n. Act of discrim- inating ; mark of distinction. Dis-cuss', V. t.. [Lat, dia^ apart, and quatere, to shake, strike.] To dis- perse ; to examine by discussion. — Sin. To debate. Dis-cds'sion (-kdsh'un), n. A debate ; disquisition ; disputaiion. Dis-janc'tion, n. Disunion; separa- tion. Dis-jfinct'Xve, a. Tending to disjoin. Dis-par'age, v. t. To Injure by depre- ciating comparisons. Dis-tinct', a. Separate ; different ; clear ; not confused. D!i-v5rge', v. i. To tend different ■ways from one point. DiVerse-ly, odv. In different ways or directions. Da'al, a. Expressing the number two. Du-pll(?'i-ty, n. [Lat. dupUcitas^iTom. duplex, double.] Doubleness of art or speech. — StN. Dissimulation ; deceit ; guile. Ef-fect'ive, «. Able ; active ; effi- cient. Ef-fi'cien-py (-fish'en-), n. Power of producing effect. E'go-tism, n. [Lat. ego^ L] Self- commendation ; vanity. E-lEtb'o-rate, v. t. To produce with labor. E-lab'o-rate, a. Finished with great care. El'e-ment, /t. The constituent part of a thing. E-lim'i-nate, v. t. To cause to disap- pear from an equation ; to set aside as unimportant ; to leave out of con- sideration ; to deduce ; to infer. E-lis'ion (-llzh'un), n. The cutting off of a vowel at the end of a word. El-lip'sis, n. {pi El-lip'sEs.) In grammar^ the omission of a word .orphrase. , • , ; B-lu'ci-date, v. t. To explain ; to 'make clear. E-lu'^i-da'tion, n. Explanation. Em-bel'lish, v. t. To make beautiful by adornment. E-mer'gen-cy, n. A rising out of a fluid ; a sudden occasion ; pressing necessity. Em'i-nenge, n. A rising ground ; ^ loftiness ; distinction. Em'pha-siB, n. {pi Em'pha-s5s.) Force of voice given to particular words. Em-phat'ic, a. Forcible ; strong ; ut- tered with emphasis. Em-pir'ic-al, a. Used and applied without science. Em-plr'i-cism, ?i. Quackery. Bm'u-la'tion, n. Kivalry ; competi- tion. En-cum'ber, v. t. To impede action by a load or burden. En-graft', v. t. To insert, as a scion in a stock. E-n6r'mi-ty, n. Atrociousness ; de- pravity. En'ter-tain', v. t. To treat with hos- pitality ■ to amuse. En-thu'si-ast, n. One whose imagina- tion is heated. En'thy-meme, «. An argument con- sisting of only two propositions, E-nij'mer-ate, v. t. To number ; -to reckon up singly. E-niin'ci-ate (-ntln'shi-), v. t To de- clare ; to utter. Ep'i-gram, n. A short and pointed poem. Ep'i-thet, n. An adjective expressing some especial appropriate quality or attribute. B-quiv'a-lent, a. Equal in value, power,^ or effect. — n. That which is equal in value or worth. E-quiv'o-cal, a. Ambiguous; doubt- ^fuL Es'say, n. A trial ; attempt ; a short, informal treatise. Es-sen'tial, a. Necessary to existence ; very important. — n. Constitutnt principle. Et'y-m6l'o-gy, n. Derivation of words from their originals. Eu'pho-ny, ?i. An agreeable sound or combination of sounds. E-v61ve', V. t To unfold ; to expand ; to emit. Ex-act'i-tnde, n. Exactness. Ex-act'ness, n. Accuracy ; nicety. Ex-ag'ger-a'tion, n. A representation beyond the truth. Ex-c6sp'jve, a. Exceeding just limits ; extreme. Ex-cliide', ^. t. To shut out ; to de- bar ; to except. ees GENERAL GLOSSARY. Ex-clu'sion, /t. Act of excluding ; re- jection. Ex-cres'cent, a. Growing out of something else ; in a preternatural manner ; superfluous. Ex-pan'sion, n. Act of expanding ; dilatation ; extent. Ex-pO'nent, ?i. Index of a power in algebra ; a representative. Ex'po-si'tion (-zish'un}j-n. Explana- tion ; interpretation ; an exhioition of arts, etc. Ex-tem'po-ra'ne-oQs, a. Uttered with- out previous study ; unpremedi- tated. Ex-ten'sive-ly, adv. Widely ; largely. Ex-trav'a-gance, n. State of being extravagant'; excess ; prodigality. Fa-cS'tioiis, a. Humorous ; witty. Fac-ti'tious (-tish'us), a. Made by art ; artiticial. Fal'la-gy, n. Deceitfulness ; decep- tion ; sophistry. Fa^mil-iar'i-ty, n. Intimate acquaint- ance ; ease in intercourse. Fe-li'pi-tous, a. Happy; delightful; very appropriate. Fe-lip'i-ty, n. Great happiness. — Syn. Bliss ; blissfulness ; blessed- ness. Flat'ter-y, n. Act of flattering ; praise, especially false praise ; adu- lation. For'eign (for'in), a. Belonging to an- other country ; not to the purpose. — Syn. Alien ; remote ; extrinsic. Form'u-la, n. Prescribed form. Func'tion, n. Office ; employment. Fun'da-ment'al, a. Pertaining to the foundation ; essential. Fii'tile, a. Useless ; vain ; worthless ; ineffectual. Gen'er-al'i-ty, n. State of being gen- eral ; the greatest part. Gen'er-al-i-za'tion, n. Act of gener- alizing. Gen'er-al-ize, v. i. To arrange under general heads. Gen'er-ate, v. t. To produce ; to cause. Gro-tesque' (-tesk'), «. Wildly formed ; odd; whimsical. Guar'an-tee', v, t. To warrant. — n. A surety for performance. Har'mo-ny, n. [Gr. Iiarmonia^ irom harmozein, to tit together.] Agree- ment ; concord of musical strains that differ in pitch and quality. Het'e-ro-ge'ne-otts, a. Of a different nature. H6n'or-a-ry (on'ur-), a. Conferring honor. Hu'mor {or yu'mur), n. Temper ; disposition ; a delicate kind of wit ; pleasantry. Hu'mor-ous {or yu'mur-), a. Exhib- iting humor ; ' jocular ; waggish ; pleasant ; playful. Hy'gi-5ne, n. Science of the preser- vation of health. Hy-poc'ri-sy, n. Dissim.u.lation ; in- sincerity. Hy-poth'e-sis, or Hy-poth'e-sis {pi. Hy-p6th'e-ses, hi- or hi-), n. buppo- sition ; proposition assumed. I-de'al, rt. Existing in idea or in fancy. — Stn. Visionary ; fanciful ; imaginary; unreal. — n. The concep- tion of a thing in its most perfect ^ state. • Id'i-om, n. An expression peculiar to B-liis'trate. iJ. i. To explain; to make y clear ; to elucidate. ll'lus-tra'tiou, n. Explanation ; elu- cidation. Im'be-^ile, a Weak in mind or body. Im-par'tial, x Free from bias. — Syn. Unpreju-diced ; just ; equitable. Im-pEde', v. t. To hinder ; to ob- struct ; to retard. Im-pel'. V, t. To urge forward. Im-pSr'son-al. a. Not varied accord- ing to the persons. Im-press'ive, a. Producing effect ; susceptible. In-ac'cu-rate, «. Erroneous. In-ad'e-quate, a. Not equal to the purpose. — Syn. Unequal; incompe- ^ tent ; insufficient ; defective. In'a-ni'tion (-nish'un), n. Emptiness ; ^ exhaustion from lack of food. In'ap-pru'pri-ate, a. Unbecoming ; ^ unsuitable; unfit. In'^i-dent, a. Palling on ; casual ; liable to happen. — n. That which happens. In'^-i-dent'al, a. Happening occa- sionally. In-clude', v. t. To comprehend ; to comprise. aEKERAL GLOSSAfeT. 669 In'con-gru'i-ty, n. Un suitableness ; inconsistency. la-oQn'gru-oas, a. Not consistent. — Syn. Unfit ; inappropriate ; unsuit- ^ able. In-def i-nite, a. Not precise. In-del'i-ca-fy, n. Want of delicacy. In'del'i-oate, a. Offensive to purity ; indecent, In'dis-pen'sa-ble, a Not to be dis- pensed with ; absolutely necessary. In-dorse'ment, n. A writing of one's name on the back of a note ; sanc- tion ; approval. In-du^e', V. t. To lead by persuasion. In-du(?e'ment, n. Anything which in- duces. In-er'ti-a (-er'shi-a), n. That proper- ty of matter by which it tends when at rest to remain so, and when in motion to continue in motion. lu-ev'i-ta-ble, a. Not to be avoided ; unavoidable. In'fer-enpe, n. Deduction from pre- mises ; consequence. In'form'al, a. Wanting form. ; with- out ceremony ; irregular. In'ge-nii'i-ty, n. Ready invention ; ^ skill. In-sert', v. t. To bring into or among ; to introduce. tn-ser'tion, n. Act of inserting ; thing inserted In- sin' u-a- ting, ppr. Creeping or winding in ; insensibly winning favor and confidence. In'stinct, n. Unconscious, involun- tary, or unreasoning prompting to action. — a. Moved from within ; actuated. In-tan 'gi-ble, a. Not perceptible by touch. In'tel-lect'u-al, a. ' Relating to the understanding ; mental. In-tel'li-gent, a. Knowing ; instruct- ed; slalful. In-tei'li-gent-ly, adv. In an intelli- gent manner. In'ter-course, «. Mutual dealings ; fellowship. ■ In'ter-Hu'e-a'tion, n. A writing or printing between lines. In'ter-pen'e-trate, v. t. To penetrate- between other substances. In'ter-po-la'tion, n. The act of foist- ing a word or passage into a manu- script or book. In-ter'pret-a'tion, n. Explanation ; „ exposition ; version. In'ter-rog'a-tive, a. Denoting a ques- tion. — n. A word that indicates a „ question. In'ter-rQp'tion, n. Interposition ; stop ; hindrance. In'ter-sperse', v. t. To scatter among or here and there. In'ter-ven'tion, n. Act of interven- ^ ing ; interposition. In'tri-cate, a. Entangled or involved ; y complicated. In-trin'sic, a. Internal; true; real; „ inherent ; essential. In'tro-duc'tioo, a. Act of introduc- ing ; a preface. In-ver'sion, n. A complete change of order or place. In-ves'ti-ga'tion. n. A searching for _ truth ; examination ; inquiry. I'ron-y, n. Speech intended to con- vey a contrary signification ; a ^ species of ridicule. Ir're-slst'i-ble, a. Impossible to be resisted with success. Ir-rev'er-en9e, n. Want of reverence or veneration. Ju-diVious (-dish'us), a. Prudent ; acting with judgment. Le'gend, or Leg'end, n. A remark- able story ; inscription ; motto. Le-git'i-raate, a. Lawful; genuine. Li'a-bil'i-ty, n. A state of being lia- ble ; responsibility • tendency. Li'bel, n A defamatory writing ; a written statement of the cause of a legal action and of the relief sought. — V. t To defame by writing ; to proceed against by filing a libel. Li'pense, n. Permission ; excess of liberty. — v. t. To permit by legal warrant ; to authorize. Lim'it, n. A bound ; border. — v. t. To set bounds to ; to confine within certain bounds. Lit'er-a-ry, a. Relating to literature. Lit'er-a-t''ire, rt. Acquaintance with books ; literary productions. — Stn. Learning ; erudition. Log'ic, n. Science and art of reason- ing. Lu'di-crods, a. Exciting laughter. — Stn. Laughable; ridiculous. 670 GENERAL GLOSSARY. Ma-lig'nant, («. Malicious ; dangerous to life. Man'i-fest-a'tion, n. Exhibition ; dis- play ; revelation. Max'i-mum, n. {pi. Max'i-ma^ The greatest quantity or value attain- able .in a given case. Mis-ap'pre-lien'sion, n. A mistake. Mod'er-ate, a. Not violent or exces- sive ; temperate ; sober. MOd'er-a'tion, n. State of being mod- erate. M6d'i-f i'er, n. He who, or that which, modifies. Mud'i-fy, V. t. To change the form of ; to qualify ; to vary. Mon'o-logue, n. A speech by one person. Mo-nop'o-lize, v. t. To engross the whole of. Mor'bid, a. [Lat. morbidus^ from morbus, disease.] Not sound or healthy. — Sys. Diseased; sickly; sick. Mut'u-al, a. Reciprocal ; acting in return. Myth, n. A religioas fable ; a fiction. My-th6l'o-gy, ?i. A system of fabu- lous doctrines respecting heathen deities. Nar-ra'tion, a. Relation ; rehearsal ; recital ; account. Neg'li-gent-ly, adv. Heedlessly ; care- lessly. Ob-ject'ive, a. Relating to the ob- ject ; outward ; external. Ob-ecure', a. Dark ; gloomy ; not easily understood ; not much Jknown. — V. t. To darken ; to make less clear or beautiful. Ob-serve', v. t. To see ; to notice ; to ^ utter, as a remark. Ob'so-l5te, a. Disused ; out of date. Ob-trude', v. t. To thrust in or upon ; ^ to urge upon against the will. Ob'vi-ofl.s, a. Evident ; clear. 0-pin'ion, n. Judgment formed by the mind ; notion ; sentiment ; per- suasion. Op-po'nent, a. Opposing ; antago- nistic. -^?i. Anopposer; an antago- nist. O-ra'tion, n. A public and elaborate discourse. Or'nate. a. Adorned ; decorated ; beautiful. Or'tho-e-py, n. Correct pronuncia- ^ tion of words. Os'ten-ta-tioQs, a. Aff'ectedly showy ; gaudy ; pretentious. Pan'der, v. i. To act as agent for the passions of others. Par'a-ble, n. A moral fable. Par'a-dox, w. A tenet seemingly ab- surd, yet true. Ped'ant-ry, n. Ostentation of learn- ing. Per-pep'tion, n. Act or power of per- ceiving. — Stn. Idea; conception; sentiment ; sensation ; observation. Per'emp-to-ry, a. Positive ; absolute. Per'fect, a. [Lat. perfectus, per- formed, finished.] Complete; fin- ished ; consummate. Per'fect, or Per-fect', v. t To fin- ish ; to complete. Per-fec'tion, n. State of being per- fect ; completeness. Per'ma-nent, a. Durable; lasting. Per-mis'sion (-mish'un), n. Act of permitting ; formal consent ; leave ; liberty. , Per'o-ra'tion, n. The closing part of an oration. Per'qui-site, n. An extra allowance in money or other things. Per-spec'tive, a. Relating to vision. — n. Art of representing objects correctly on a plain surface. Per'spi-cu'i-ty, n. Clearness. Per-suade', v. t. To influence by argu- ment or entreaty. Per-Bua'sion, Ji. Act of persuading ; creed ; belief ; opinion ; reason. Per-vade', v, t [Lat. pervadere^ fr. per, through, and vadere^ to go.] To pass through.. Phrase, n. A sentence ; mode of speech; style; diction. — v, t. To name or style. Phra'se-Gl'o-gy, n. Manner of expres- sion. Pla'cate, v. t. To appease or pacify. Plau'si-ble a. Superficially pleasing ; apparently right. — Syn. Specious. Po~lIte', a. ' Polished ; refined. Po lite'neas, n. Good breeding; cour- tesy,^ Pos'si-bil'i-ty. n. The power of being or doing ; that which is possible. Prac'ti-cal, a. Relating to practice; capable of being turned to use. Pre-c5de', v. t To go before. GENERAL GLOSSABY. 671 Pre-(?is'ion, (-sizh'an), n. Exactness ; accuracy. Pre-dom'i-nanfe, n. Asoendeiicy ; saperiority. Pref er-enpe, n. Estiination or choice above another. Pre-f ix', V. t. To place before. Prg'f ix, n. A letter, syllable, or word prefixed. Pr6j'u-dice, n. Prejudgment ; un- reasonable prepossession ; bias ; in- jury. — V. t. To bias unduly. Prej'u-di'cial (-dish-al), a. Likely to injure ; hurtful. Prep'a-ra'tion, n. Act of preparing, or making ready ; preparatory act. Pres'en-ta'tion, n. Act of presenting ; exhibition. Pre-sttmp'txon, n. Opinion ; strong probability ; excess of confidence. Pre-Biimpt'u-Qus, a. Bash ; bold ; un- duly confident. Pre-ten'sion, n. Claim, true or false ; ■ pretense. Pre-ten'tioQs, a. Making great pre- tensions. Pro-hib'it, v, t. To forbid. Pro-nun'ci-a'tion (-shi-a'-shun), «■ Act or mode of utterance. Pro-por'tion, n. Comparative rela- tion ; equal share. — v. t. To adjust in a suitable proportion, as one part to another. Pro-pri'e-ty, n. Fitness ; justness ; decorum . Pro-vin\ial, n. An inhabitant of a province. — a. Belonging to a prov- ince ; , unpolished. Pro-vin'pial-ism, n. Peculiarity of speech in a province. Prox-im'i-ty, n. Immediate nearness. Peinct'u-a'tion, n. Act or art of divid- ing sentences by means of points. Piin'gen-cy, /i. Sharpness; keenness. Quaint, a. Artifi.cially elegant; odd and antique. — SrN. 8trange ; whim- sical ; fanciful ; singular ; queer. Quaint'ness, n. State of being quaint ; QuaVi-fi-ca'tion, n. That which qual- ifies ; legal requisite ; endowment ; accomplishment ; restriction ; mod- . ifi cation. Qaal'i-fy, v. t, [Lat. qualijicare^ fr. qualis^ such, and facere^ to make.] To fit ; to prepare ; to modify ; to limit ; to abate ; to restrict. Ka'di-tis, n. {pi. Ra'di-i.) Half of the diameter of a circle. Railler-y (ral'ler-y), n. Banter; good- humored pleasantry or slight satire. Rs'ca-pit'u-late, v. t. To repeat in a summary way. — Syn. To reiterate ; recite ; rehearse. Rec'og-ni'tion (-nish'un), n. Act of recognizing ; acknowledgment ; avowal. Rec'og-nize, v. t. To know again ; to acknowledge. Rec'om-mend-a'tion, n. Act of prais- ing ; that which commends to mvor ; commendation ; act of advising. Rg'con-strQct, v. t. To rebuild. Re-dfln'danfe, n. Superfluous quan- tity ; excess. Re-flec'tion, n. Act of reflecting ; at- tentive consideration ; censure ; that which is produced by reflecting. Re'flex, a. Directed backward; re- troactive. Re-frain', v. t. or i. To abstain ; to forbear. — n. Burden of a song. Re-fute', V. t To prove false. Re-jec'tion, n. Act of rejecting. Re-la'tion, n. Act of relating ; narra- tive of facts ; any connection estab- lished. Rel'a-tlve, a. Having relation* re- specting. — n. One connected, by blood or afi&nity ; that which relates to something else. Rs'lax-a'tion, n. A slackening ; re- lief from laborious or painful du- ties. Rep'e-tl'lion (-tish'un), n. Act of re- peating ; iteration. Re-press', v. t. To put doven ; to sub- due ; to crush. Rs'pro-diic'tion, n. Act or process of producing anew ; thing repro- duced. Re-proof, n. Censure expressed ; re- buke. Rep'u-ta-ble, a. Of good repute ; re- spectable. Rep'u-ta'tion, n. General estimation ; good name ; credit ; honor derived from public esteem. Re-piite', v. i. To hold in estimation ; to think. — 7t. Reputation; estima- tion. Req'ui-site (rek'wi-zit), a. Required ; necessary. — n. That which is nec- essary. R6s-o-lii'tion, a. Fixed purpose ; the 672 GENERAL GLOSSARY. act of separating parts of a complex idea. Be-BpSn'si-bil'i-ty, jl. Liability , to answer or pay. Re-spon'si-ble, a. Liable to account. — Syn. Accountable ; answerable. Re-strict', v. t. To limit ; to restrain ; to confine. Re-ten'tion, n. Act of retaining. Ret'i-cence, n. [Lat. re and iaceo^ to be ailent.j Concealment by si- lence. Re-tort', n. Censure returned ; rep- aftee ; a chemical vessel. — y. t. To throw back ; to return ; to make a sharp reply. Re-vise', v. t. To examine with care for correction; to review. — n. A second proof-sheet. Re-vis'ion (-vizh'un), n. Act of re- vising or reviewing. Rhet'o-ric (ret'-), n. The art of speak- ing or writing with elegance, pro- priety, and force. Sa-gap'i-ty, n. Quick discernment ; penetration. Sal'u-ta'tion, n. Act of greeting an- other. — Syn. Greeting; salute ; ad- Sar'casm, n. Bitter reproach. Sar-cas'tic, a. Bitterly satirical ; scornfully severe. Sat'ir-ist, n. One who writes satire. SiCi'enpe, n. [Lat. scietitia^ fr. scire^ to ^now.] Knowledge; collection of general principles ; philosophical knowledge. Scope, n. Sweep or range of the eye or mind ; that at which one aims ; free course. — Syn. Space; room; intention ; . tendency ; drift. Scru'ti-nize, v. t. To examine or search closely. Self'-con-geit', n. High opinion of one's powers or endowments ; vanity, Sen'si-bil'i-ty, n. Capability of sen- sation ; acuteness of perception. Sig'ni-fi-ca'tion, n. Meaning ex- pr,eBsed by words or signs. Sim-pllg'i-ty, n. State or quality of being simple ; plainness ; artless- ness ; singleness ; weakness of in- tellect. Sin-^er'i-ty, n. Freedom from dis- guise.; honesty. SOl'e-jisra, n. Impropriety in Ian- guage ; any absurdity. Solv'ent, a. Able to pay debts ; dis- solving. — n. A fluid which dis- solves any substance. So-no'rods, a. Giving sound when struck ; loud ; resounding ; high- sounding. Spe'cial (spesh'al), a. Peculiar ; ap- propriate ; specific ; particular. Spe-Qif'ic, a. Distinguishing one from another ;'comprehended under a kind ; peculiar. — n. An infallible remedy. SpeQ'i-raen, n. A sample ; a pattern x a model. Spon'ta-ng'i-ty, n. Quality of acting freely without restraint ; voluntary action. StS're-o-type, n. A plate of type- metal resembling the surface of a page of type — v. t. To make stereo- type places for. Stim'u-luB, n. Something that rouses either to mental action or to vital energy. StrSss, n. Pressure ; importance ; force ; urgency. Sub-ject'ive. a. Relating to the sub- ject ; pertaining to one's own con- sciousness. Sub-6r'di-nate, a. Inferior in order or rank; subject, — n. An inferior. Sub-or'di-nate, v. t. To make subor- dinate or inferior. Stib'sti-tute, n. One person or thing put in place of another. — v. t. To put in the place of another. — Syn. To exchange ; interchange. Sug-gest' (or sud-jest'), v, t To hint ; to intimate. Su'per-gil'i-ous, a. Haughty ; dicta- torial ; overbearing. Su-per'flu-oas, a. More than is wanted ; useless. Su'per-ira-pose, w. t. To impose or lay on something else. Su -per'Ja-tive, a. Expressing the highest degi-ee ; most excellent ; su- preme. Sii'per-scrlip'tion, n. A writing or en- graving on the outside or above sbmething else. Su'per-vise', v. t. To oversee, for di- rection ; to superintend ; to inspect. Sdp'plS-ment, n. An addition. Sus-(j5p'ti-ble, a. Capable of receiv- ing impressions. GENERAL GLOSSARY. 673 Syl'la-ble, n. A letter or combina- tion of letters uttered together, or by one impulse of the voice. Sym'pa-thet'ic, a. Having, or pro- duced by, sympathy. Sym'pa-thy, n. [Gr. sumpatheia, from sun^ with, and pathos^ suffer- ing.] Fellow-feeling ; commisera- tion ; pity. Syn'o-iiym, n. A word which has the same or very nearly the same mean- ing as another word. Syn'the-sis, n. Composition, or the putting of two or more things to- gether. TSct, n. Nice perception or skill. Tech'nic-al, a. Relating to any art, science, or business. Terse'ness, n. Smoothness and com- pactness. TSp'ic, n. Subject of discourse ; a matter treated of. Trans-form', v. t. To change the form or appearance of ; to meta- morphose. Trans-mit', v. t. [Lat. iransmitiere, fr. irans^ across, over, and mittere^ to send.] To send from one person or place to another. Triv'i-al, a. Trifling ; light ; worth- less ; inconsiderable. Tur'gid, a. Distended ; swelled ; tumid ; bombastic. Typ'ic-al, a. Emblematical ; figura- tive. Ul-te'ri-or, a. Lying beyond; further; „ more remote. TJn'im-peach'a-ble, a. Not to be im- peached ; free from stain or fault ; _ blameless. U'ni-ver'sal, a. Extending to all ; _ whole ; total. Us'age, n. Mode of using ; treatment ; custom ; long-continued practice. Val'id, a. [Lat. validus^ from valere^ to be strong.] Firm ; good in law. Va-ri'e-ty, n Change ; difference ; diversity ; that which is various ; a varied assortment ; a form subordi- nate to a species. Ver-nac'ij-lar, a. Native; belonging to the country of one's birth. VIg'i-lan(je, n. Forbearance of sleep ; watchfulness. Vig'or-ous, a. Pull of, or exhibiting, active force. — Stn. Strong; power- ful ; forcible ; agile. Vin'di-ca'tion, n. Justification ; de- fense ; support. Vo-cab'u-la-ry, n. A list of words ar- ranged alphabetically and explained ; sum of words used. Vo-lii'mi-noiiB, a. Consisting of many volumes ; copious. Vouch, V. t. To call to witness ; to warrant ; to support ; to establish, — V. i. To bear witness. Wa'ry, a. Cautious of danger ; pru- dent ; circumspect.