Cornell University Library arW37637 Manual of English rhetoric. . 3 1924 031 787 298 olm,anx Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031787298 MAI^UAL ENGLISH RHETORIC. BY A. D. HEPBURN, PROFESSOR IN DAVIDSON COLLEQE, N. C. WILSON, HINKLE & CO., ]37 WaijNUT Stueet, 28 Bond Street, CINCINNATI. (K^ NEW YORK. COPYRIGHT, 1875, BY WILSON, HINKLE & CO. JX ELECTROTVI'ED AT FRANKLIN TYPE FOUNDRY, CIN'CINNATI. ECLECTIC PRESS : WILSON, HINKLE & CO., CINCINNATI. PEEFAOE. I 2^ preparing this Manual, I have had in view the wants of classes in High Schools and Colleges. I have not thought it advisable to introduce into a text-book discussions of topics that belong properly to Ps^xhology, Logic, and ^Esthetics, or to controvert, or even mention, opposing views. The prin- ciples and rules are stated briefly, and exemplified: the in- structor can expand, modify, and apply them according to the requirements of his classes. I am very largely indebted to the Lectures on the English Language by Hon. Geo. P. j\larsh, to Dr. J. K. F. Einne's voluminous Theory of Style, to Dr. Karl Becker's philo- sophical treatise upon German Style, and to Vinet's Homi- letics. I have also freely used the results of the labors of many other writers. That a distinct acknowledgment of my indebtedness so seldom appears in the body of the work does not proceed from any wish to claim as my own vi-hat is an- other's. It was part of my original plan to give in ea^h section full references to the various works in which its sub- (iii) iv PEEFACE. ject is treated of, but it was found that this could not be carried out with satisfactoiy tlioroughness without adding too much to the size of the volume. And, indeed, the success of the few attempts that have been made to incoiporate into a text-book the literature of the subject, has not been such as to encourage imitation. GONTEl^rTS. mTEODUCTION. Definition, Aim and Method of Study, Distribution, of Rhetoric. Section. Pace 1. Definition of Rhetoric 13 2. Prose distinguislied from Poetry ... . . 13 3. The Expression of tliought subject to Laws . . . .14 4. Aim of the study of Elietoric 16 5. Systematic Rhetoric must neither be neglected nor studied exclusively . 16 6. Original Composition .17 7. Exercises in wliicli tlie matter is supplied ; Paraplira.se. Ab- stracts and Abridgments. Translation . . . .17 8. Study of Models. What to study. How to study . . 21 9. Distribution of Rhetoric. Dili'crent kinds of Matter. Differ- ent-kinds of Discourse. This work distributed into Four Parts 23 PAKT I. the processes conversant about the matter of a discourse. Preliminary. 10. What are the processes conversant about the matter of a Discourse ? 25 11. The main and the subordinate ideas distinguished. Distribu- tion of Part First . . .26 Chapter I. The Subject of a Discourse. 12. The Subject either given or left to the writer's choice. Forms in which given. Rules to be observed 27 13. The Subject chosen by the Writer. Relation of the Subject to the Writer. Relation of the Subject to the Reader . 28 (v) -vi CONTENTS. Pagf 30 30 Skct. 1-1. Dctprmination of the Subject 15. Tlie Tlieme. Its requisites 16. Tlie Title, Rules I'oi- cliDOsing ^^ Chaptek II. InveiLtion. 17. Invention definecl. Considered as a- power of tlie Mind. Means of improving it. Invention differs from investigar tion 34 IS. Meditation. What included in? 30 19. Recollection 37 ^0. Selection, Result of the process 38 21. Systematic Meditation. Topics. Their utility . . .40 22. Reading as an aid to invention. Jlethod of Reading . . 41 Chapter III. J}isposition. 23. Disposition: Nature of. Importance of 43 2-1. Preparation of the Plan. Organic Parts of a Discourse. What contained ill the Plan. Necessity of prei)aring one . 44 25 The laws of Disposition, general and special . . . .40 26. Tlic Nature and Purpo.se of the Introduction . . .40 27. Contents of the Introduction. Its structure. "When to be ■^ prepiired 48 28. The Body of !ho Discourse 49 29. Two methods of counnunicating thought. The Analytic. The Synthetic . . 50 30. Comparative advantages of the two 53 31. General Rules tor the Disposition of the Body of a Discourse. 54 32. The Conclusion. An essential part. Qualities of . . 55 33. Transitions. Essential qualities of. How found . . .56 Chapter IV. Amplification. 34. Nature of Amplification. Importance of 58 35. Means of Amplification. Enumeration. Examples. Causes and Effects. Comparison. Combination of several means. .\ccessory ideas ■..-..,.. 60 30. Rules of Amplification 63 CONTENTS. Vii PAET II. STYLE. Chapter I. Tlie Qualities of Prnse Stylf. Sect. Page 37. Nature and conditions of Style. Its importance. Disregard of, among Englisli Prose Writers C6 38. P'undamental qualities of Prose Style. Propriety . . .08 39. Perspicuity. Spencer's law ot economy of attention . . 69 40. ^ Vivacity. Beauty 71 41. The Englisli language as to power of expression . . .72 42. Topics to be treated of in the Doctrine of Style . . .73 Chapter II. The Choice of Words. 43. Importance and difficulty of a proper choice of words . . 74 44. , National use. Barbarisms. Provincialisms . . . .75 4.5. Present use. Ob.solcte words. Neologisms . . . .79 46. Moral Dignity. Direct expressions of what is base. Wan- ton misapplications designating moral qualities. Vulgar- isms ... 83 47. Propriety. Accuracy. Congruity 86 48. Conclusion 92 Chapter III. Figures of Speech. 49. Figures of Speech in general. Defined. Are natural and necessary. Their classification 92 50. Figures of Intuition 94 51. Tropes in general 94 52. Synecdoche 95 53. Metonymy. Antonomasia 97 54. Metaphor. Three kinds of. Its force. Rules for its use . 98 55. Allegory. Parable. Fable 105 56. Personification. Cautions with respect to using it . . . 107 57. Ideal Presence. 1, The present tense used for a past or fut- ure. 2. Vision. 3. Apostrophe. 4, Serraocination . . 108 viii CONTENTS. Sect. Page 58. Simile. Different orders of HI 59. Allusion 113 60. Epithets . H* 61. Figures of Emphasis 116 62. Interrogation. Repetition. Exclamation . . . .116 63. Hyperbole. Irony 118 64. Climax 119 65. Antithesis 120 Chapter IV. The Sentence. 66. Sentence defined. Division of Sentences 67. Characteristics of the English Sentence 68. The Structure of Sentences . 69. Correctness . .... 70. Unity .... 71. Clearness 72. Precision. 1. Tautology. 2. Pleonasm. 3. Verbosity 73. Energy. 1. Inversion. 2. Connectives: Asyndeton Polysyndeton. 3. Periods and Loose Sentences 74. Melody and 121 122 124 125 126 130 136 139 145 Chapter V. The Paragraph- ia. Paragraph defined 146 76. The Structure of Paragraphs 147 77. Unity. Continuity 147 78. Proportion. Variety 150 79. Announcing the Theme 153 80. Examples illustrating the foregoing rules 153 Chapter VI. Division of Style. 81. Recapitulation 15g 82. Differences of Style I57 83. The Simple or Lower Style 15g 84. The Grand or Higher Style I59 CONTENTS. ix Sfct. Page 85. The Middle Style 160 86. Caution 160 87. Application o£ the Principles of General Rhetoric . . . 161 PAKT ni. THE ELEMENTARY FOBMS OF DISCOUUSE. 4 88. Preliminary. What are the Elementary Forms of Discourse ? 162 Chapter I. DcscrqMon. 89. Definition of Description : its objects 163 90. Requisites of a good Description 163 91. Difficulty of the art of Description 164 92. Rules of Description 1(34 93. Disposition of details 106 94. Auxiliaries. Rules of Expression 107 95. Description of Natural and Artificial Products. Physical Ap- pearances .... 107 96. Mental states. Characters. General Characters . . . 169 Chaptek II. Narration. 97. Nature and aim of Narration 171 98. Selection of particulars 172 99. Disposition of the incidents 173 100. Parts of a Narration 174 Chapteb III. Eocposition. 101. Exposition defined : its objects and aim 176 102. Verbal explication 1"7 103. Logical explication. Definition 177 104. Division. The Principle of Division. Laws of . . . 179 X CONTENTS. Page 105. Exposition of a Notion in its relations 181 106. Additional instruments ol: exposition. 1. Examples. 2. An- alogy . . . . • 182 107. A scheme ot Exposition of a Notion 183 108. Exposition of a Proposition 184 Chapter IV. Argument, 109. Argument; what, and what implied in. Nature and degrees ot Conviction. Argumentation either Positive or Negative. 185 110. Confirmation ... . . . 186 111. Preparation of the Question. Its importance. Jlode of pre- paring the question 187 112. Invention of Arguments 190 113. Direct and Indirect Reasoning. Conditions of the validity of Indirect Reasoning. Comparative advantages of the two methods 190 114. Deductive Reasoning. Inductive Reasoning. 1. Induction in the lijiiited sense of the word. 2. Analogy. Example. 3. Signs . .192 115. Extrinsic Arguments. 1. Testimony. 2. Authority . . 19,5 116. Selection of Arguments 197 117. Arrangement of Arguments. Analytic and Syntlietic order. Principal and Subordinate Arguments. Extrinsic and In- trinsic Arguments 198 118. Tlie Syllogistic and the popular mode of reasoning . . 199 119. Refutation . . . 200 120. Rules of Refutation 202 121. Scheme and Topics of an Argument 203 PART IV. THE PJilNOIPAL FOnUS OF PROSE. 122. Preliminary. Several divisions of Prose .... 206 Chapter I. Tlie Dialogue and Epialolary Prose. • 123. Introductory 207 124. Dialogue. Characters. Subjects 207 CONTENTS. xi Sect. p^^.^ 125. Requisites of a Dialogue 208 126. EpistuUiry Pruse 209 127. Its geiierul characteristics 209 Chapter II. Didactic Prose. 128. "VVliat included in Didactic Prose. Its forms .... 210 129. Scientific Prose 211 130. Use of general terms. Technical terms. Sources ot tech- nical tcnns. Under what conditions to be used . . . 212 131. Use of Figurative language 211 132. Kinds of Scientific Prose. 1. Text-books, 2. Disquisitions. 211 133. Pojiular Scientific Prose 21.3 134. Criticism 216 Chapter III. Historical Prose. 135. "What is comprehended in History 217 136. Wrong methods of Historical composition . . . .217 137. Genuine Historical method 218 138. Essential qualities. 1. Truth. 2, Local color. 3. Signifi- cance of facts exhibited. 4. (Ainipleteuess .... 219 139. Historical Arraiigi'inent. Chronological Jlethod. Topical Jlethod. Pragmatic Method. Natural Method . . 222 140. Distribution into Periods . . . ... 225 141. Introduction and Conchisicm . . .... 220 142. Description. Reflections 22G 143. Essential qualities of Historical Style .... 227 144. Division of History. T'niversal History. Special History. Biogi-aphy. Special Histories of Institutions, Industries, Arts, etc 228 Chapter IV. Oratorical Prose. 145. Oratorical Discourse defined 231 1 !G. Analysis of Persuasion 231 147. Theme of an Oratorical Discourse 232 X CONTENTS. 105. Exposition of a Notion in its relations 106. Additional instruments of exposition. 1. Examples. alogy ... • 107. A scheme of Exposition of a Notion 108. Exposition of a Proposition Page . 181 An- . 182 . 183 . 184 Chapter IV. Argument. 109. Argument: what, and what implied in. Nature and degrees of Conviction. Argumentation either Positive or Negative. 185 110. Confirmation . . . . - . 186 111. Preparation of the Question. Its importance. Mode of pre- paring the question 187 112. Invention of Arguments . . 190 113. Direct and Indirect Reasoning. Conditions of the validity of Indirect Reasoning. Comparative advantages of the two methods . 190 114. Deductive Rea.soning. Inductive Reasoning. 1. Induction in the limited sense of the word. 2. Analogy. Example. 3. Signs .192 115. Extrinsic Arguments. 1. Testimony. 2. Authority . . 195 116. Selection of Arguments 197 117. Arrangement of Arguments. Analytic and Syntlietic order. Principal and Subordinate Arguments. Extrinsic and In- trinsic Arguments 118. TJie Syllogistic and the popular mode of reasoning 119. Refutation . . . ... 120. Rules of Refutation . .... 121. Scheme and Topics of an Argument 198 199 200 202 203 PAKT IV. THE PRINCIPAL FOHMS OF PROSE. 122. Preliminary. SeveraldivisionsofPro.se . . . .206 Chapter I. TJie Dialogue and Kphlolary Prose. • 123. Introductory , . 207 124. Dialogue. Characters. Subjects 207 CONTENTS. xi Sect. Page 125. Requisites of a Dialogiae 208 126. Epistolary Prose . 200 127. Its general characteristics 209 Chaptek II. JDldaciic Prose, 128. What included in Didactic Prose. Its forms .... 210 129. Scientific Prose . ' 211 130. Use of general terms. Technical terms. Sources of tech- nical terms. Under what conditions to be used . . . 212 131. Use of Figurative language ... ... 21-t 132. Kinds of Scientific Prose. 1. Text-books. 2. Disquisitions. 21-t 133. Popiilar Scientific Prose 215 134. Criticism 216 Chapter III. Hhlorical Prose. 135. What is comprehended in History 217 136. Wrong methods of Historical composition .... 217 137. Genuine Historical method 218 138. Essential qualities. 1. Truth. 2. Local color. 8. Signifi- cance of facts exhibited. 4. Completeness .... 219 139. Historical Arrangement. Chronological Method. Topical Jlethod. Pragmatic ilethod. Natural Method . . 222 140. Distriliution into Periods 225 141. Introduction and Conclusion 22fj 142. Description. Reflections ■ 22G 143. Essential qualities of Historical Style 227 144. Division of History. Universal History. Special History. Biography. Special Histories of Institutions, Industries, Arts, etc 228 Chapter IV. Oruiiirind Prose. 145. Oratorical Discourse defined 231 ] 16. Analysis of Persuasion 231 147. Theme of an Oratorical Discourse 232 xu CONTENTS. Sect. Page 148.- Description. Narration. Exposition. Argumentation . 232 149. Exliortation. On what does the power of moving tlje Pas- sions depend? 236 150. Rules for Exhortation. Allaying hostile feeling-s . . . 238 151. Oratorical Disposition. Parts of an Oratorical Discourse .239 152. Exordium. Sources of 240 153. Qualities of an Exordium ... . . . . 242 154. Body of the Speecli. Announcement of the Tlieme. An- nouncement of the Plan 24'! 155. Special rules for arranging tlie Arguments and Motives . . 245 156. Peroration. Qualities of . . . .' . . . . 250 157. Characteristics of Oratorical Style. 1. Direct Address. 2. Popularity. 3. Simplicity. 4. Dignity. 5. Energy . . 253 158. Difierent kinds of Oratory 260 159. Political Oratory 260 160. Parliamentary Oratory. Its essential qualities. ' Popular Oratory 260 161. Judicial or Forensic Oratory. Compared with Political .264 162. Means of accomplishing its end 267 163. Its style 269 164. Sacred Oratory 269 105. Instruction an essential requisite 272 160. Religious exhortation 273 167. Familiarity 274 168. Religious Diction 275 169. Two kinds of religious oratorical Discourse. The Sermon. The Homily 276 170. Recapitulation 278 171. Miscellaneous Addresses 278 172. Conclusion 279 ENGLISH RHETORIC. INTEODUCTIOF, DEFINITION, AIM AND METHOD OF STUDY, DISTRIBUTION, OF RHETORIC. Section 1. Definition of Rhetoric. — Ehetoric is the Sci- ence of th'e Laws and Forms of Prose. It investigates the method and general principles to which eveiy discourse must conform that is designed to instruct, convince, or persuade. 2. Prose distinguished from Poetry. — The characteristic marks of prose as distinguished from poetiy are the follow- ing: 1. Poetry belongs to what are called the fine arts, — so called because their end is not any practical or material utility, but the expression of the beautiful. Its aim is not to communicate knowledge or to infiuence the will, but to rep- resent the products of the creative imagination in their appro- priate forms in language. It accomplislies all that can be demanded of it when it suits the idea to the form and the form to the idea. The beauty of the representation, or foiin, is thus the ultimate end of poetry. Prose, on the contrary, strives to accomplish some outward end. It does not describe or prove merely for the sake of (13) 14 INTRODUCTION. Sec. 2 describing or proving, but in order to influence the minds and mils of the readers and hearers. The discourse is thus but a means of producing certain effects, and owes its origin to the design of producing them. The ends of prose are reducible to three : (1) To explain something not known or not distinctly com- prehended ; (2) To convince of the truth of some proposition that is either doubted or disbelieved ; (3) To persuade to a determinate course of action. 2. Accordingly, while the poet yields to the free play of the imagination and emotions in clothing his idea in its suitable form, the prose writer is compelled to submit to many re- straints imposed by outward circumstances. He is obliged to consult the condition, requirements, and character of those for whom he writes, and to accommodate Ms discom-se to them. 3. Conformity to actual facts is not required in poetry : it idealizes the actual, and represents it in vivid images to the .imagination. But in prose the notions and judgments that are conmmnicated must liave, or seem to have, the character of real truth, and nmst be exhibited with clearness and method to the understanding. Prose, it is true, appeals to the imagi- nation also, but only to give greater clearness and force to its statements, and obtain for them a readier acceptance. 4. To awaken the emotion of the beautiful is the supreme end of poetry, but only a subordinate one of prose. In the latter, the pm-pose which the discourse has to serve is of pri- mary importance ; when the gratification of the taste comes in conflict with this, it must be sacrificed. 5. Verse is incompatible with the nature and aim of prose ; wMle, if not essential to poetry, it is peculiar to it. 3. The Expression of thought subject to Laws. — The process of combining and cx])ressing thoughts is subject to fixed laws inherent in the mind, which we are at liberty to violate, but, if we violate them, the discourse will fiiil to realize its end. We follow these laws imconsciously ; as in Sec, 4 IXTEODUCTION. 15 thinking we obey the laws of logic, and in spealdng, the.laws of general gi-animar, without having present to our minds the principles we put in practice. We can ascertain these laws hy reflecting on the operations of our minds, and by analyzing the works of eminent writ(;rs, and can reduce them to a system wliich has a valid claim to the name of Science. The exposition of the laws of the expression of thought in language constitutes the Science or Theory of Discom-se. It is divided into two special theories — Ehetoric and Poetic. These theories have much in common, but theii- points of difference are so numerous and marked that they ought to be studied separately. Remark. — The terra discourse, in its widest signification, denotes the expression in language of a series of tliouglits combined into a colierent whole. In this sense it includes all kinds of literuvy composition, of whatever extent, whether designed to be read or to be heard. It will be used in this very general sense in the present treatise. For the sake of brevity the terms ''writer" and "reader" will be used when the rules apply to discourse in general, as well as when they apply to written discourse exclusively. 4. The Aim of the study of Rhetoric. — The aim of the study of Rhetoric is practical. 1. It is a scientific introduction to the art of composition. The study of its rules and principles is chiefly valuable as a means to^^■ard acquiring skill and readiness in the effective communication of thought. "We desire to learn not merely what are the essentials of a good style, but how to conve}' om- thoughts in a manner appropriate to our subject and purpose. There is what is called natural Ehetoric, as there is natural Logic. Many who know nothing of rhetorical rules express their ideas clearly and forcibly. But in general, it is tnie of the art of discourse, as of all other arts, that before any con- siderable degree of perfection in it can be reached, the blind spontaneous process must be converted into a rational one, that is, into one regulated by a clear insight into its natm-e, end, and conditions. 16 INTEODUCTION. Sec. 4 We must not expect from Ehetoric what it does not profess to give, and can not give. It does not furnish the materials of a discourse, nor aid in distinguishing between what is true and what is false. It supposes that the miter has obtained knowledge from other sources, and confines itself to gi^^ng dii-ections how to apply it for a definite purpose. '1. It is an. introduction to the critical study of literary models. The study here meant is not for the sake of the thoughts which the work may contain, but one concerned with the manner of expressing the thoughts. It is dii'ected to ascertain whether the work in its matter, an-angement, and style is adapted to its end, and conforms to the laws of the class to which it belongs. To conduct such an analytical study intelligently and successfully, we must be familiar both with the general principles of discourse and the special laws of its several classes. It follows from this, that Ehetoric is a necessary prepara- tory study to literary criticism and the history of Uteratm-e. 5. Systematic Rhetoric must be neither neglected nor studied exclusively. — The prevailing tendency is to neglect the study of systematic Ehetoric. The prejudice against it arises from a misapprehension of its nature and claims. It is not a system of minute technical and arbitrary rules, but of the general principles on which the communication of thought depends. It offers the results of the experience of those who have excelled in the art of convincing and persuading. The question then is, — whether it is not more advantageous for the beginner to learn these principles from the experience of others, than to be taught them by the tedious and frequently mortify- ing lessons of his own experience. There can be but one answer to this question. General as the knowledge imparted must be, it will aid in the formation of good habits and in preventing the formation of bad ones ; will save from many a blunder; will confer that readiness and certainty Miiich rest on the clear knowledge of the principles of the art ; and will Sec. 7 INTRODUCTION. 17 impart the sense of freedom which springs from the conscious submission to law. jput to make the theory the exclusive, or even principal, object of study is as grave a mistake as to neglect it entirely. Something more than a mere knowledge of rules is necessary to enable us to write well. They must be so impressed on the mind and fused into our habits of thought that we can a])ply them when the occasion demands. To acquire such a facility we must combine the study of the rules and technicalities of Ehetoric with assiduous practice in composition, and with the critical study of works of literature. 6. Original Composition. — This exercise is indispensable, but to be profitable it must conform to the following rules : 1. The composition must be on some definite subject. The rule is stated thus by Sir Wm. Hamilton : " The writing should be more or less' limited, that is, be in answer to ques- tions more or less articulate. The student should not be left to roam at large ; but be made to think precisely and per- tinently, by confining him to certain definite points." 2. The exercises should be suited to the age and attain- ments of the pupil. 3. There should be variety in the subjects of the exercises in order to cultivate both the powers of thought and of expres- sion. Essays on historical, geogi-aphical, and literary subjects should be joined to those on political and moral. 4. The essays should be laboriously composed and carefully revised. By writing rapidly one can not learn to write well, but by writing well one learns to -vrate rapidly. The effort to express our thoughts in their proper order and fonn is at first painful and discom-aging. Every act requires deliberation and choice, but as by practice the habit is gradually formed, ^ye proceed with increasing fi-eedom and certainty, until, at last, we accomplish with ease and pleasm-e what, at the beginning, was forced and irksome. 7. Exercises in which the matter is supplied. — To pre- RllPt. 2 18 INTKODUCTION. Sec. 7 vent the serious evils that result from attempting original composition before there is competent knowledge, it is advis- able to prescribe to the beginner exercises in wliich the matter is supplied, that is, to furnish him with the thoughts, and require him to express them in his own words. These exercises are of ditferent kinds, some requuing a greatyr amount of intellectual effort than others, but in none ij t^ie writer called on to draw from his own stores; he has only to put the materials given liim in a particular form, or adapt them to a special pui-pose. The most important are, Paraphrase, the preparing of Abstracts and Abridgments, and Translation. Paraphrase. — This exercise consists in giving the contents of some work or passage of a work in other words in the same language. A paraphrase differs from a translation in not being a transfer from one language to another. When the transference is from poetry into prose, it is called Metaphrase. We generally associate with paraphrase the notion of an ex- pansion of the original thought by definitions, periphrasis, ex- amples, etc., with a view to making it more intelligible ; but this is not essential. Here is meant the simpler form, in which the pupil reproduces in his own words the complete thought of an author, without attempting to explain it or to imitate the style. It has been fi'equently urged against this exercise, that, in thus substituting other words for those of an accurate writer, we must necessarily choose such as are less expressive of the sense. It has, liowe\er, been defended by one of the gi-eatest rhetoricians, — Quintilian. The form of this exercise may be varied. One of the most improving, and not open to the objection just mentioned, is to prescribe passages fi-om old English authors to be rendered into modem English according to the laws of style. Abstracts and Abridgements. — Another exercise is to re- quii-e the pupil to give the substance of an entfre work, or of Sec. 7 INTRODUCTION. 19 an extended portion of it, in narrower compass. The original text may be modified in various ways ; as, by abbreviating, condensing, substituting words and phrases, transposing sen- tences, etc. But whatever modifications are made in the matter and form of tlie text, the abstract should, 1. Contain nothing that is not found in the original ; 2. Give all the essential parts, omitting the details ; 3. Give them accurately and distinctly, and as concisely as is compatible with completeness and distinctness. The abstract may be either a bare enumeration of the main points expressed in a series of short disconnected sentences, or a connected presentation of them with greater fullness. They may be given in the words of the original or in the pupil's own words ; the latter method is to be prefen-ed as a rhetorical exercise. These exercises are most important as aids in acquiring perspicuity and precision of style. They compel the pupil to discriminate between the principal and the subordinate ideas of a work; to decide upon the relative importance of its parts; to attend to the arrangement of the thoughts ; and to present them in their most compact form. Remark. — Dr. Arnold in a letter to one of his former pupils wvitos : " I am very glad tliat you continue to practice composition, but above all I would advise you to malie an abstract of one or two standaid works. One, I should say in pliilosophy ;— the other in history. I would not be in a hurry to finish tliom, but keep them constantly going on, — with one page always clear for notes. The abstract itself practices you in con- densing and giving in your own words what anotlier man lias said ; a habit of great value, as it forces one to think about it, which extracting merely does not. It further gives a brevity and simplicity to your lan- guage, two of the greatest merits which style can have." — [Stanley's Life and CoiTespondence of Arnold, i. 334.] Translation. — In this exercise the thoughts are given in a foreign language, and the pupil has to render them with equal clearness, fullness, and force into his own. It is justly esteenied one of the best means of acquiring cor- rect habits of thought and expression. It aids in cultivating 20 INTBODUCTION. Sec. 7 the taste as well as the logical powers. It compels to a more minute study of the peculiarities of our native tongue, enlarges our vocabulary, gives readiness and skill in constructing sen- tences, and leads to a better acquaintance with the character- istics of the different classes of compositions. The laws of translation are : 1. The translation must be an exact representation of the sense of the original, neither adding to it nor taking from it. 2. It must preserve the spiiit and style of the original. A perfect translation should make the same impression upon its readers that the original work produced upon those for whom it was written. 3. It must be idiomatic : it must conform to the laws and idioms of the language in which it is written, both in the choice of words and phrases, and in the structure of sentences. It should have the freedom and gi-ace of an original produc- tion. A perfectly adequate ti-anslation is impracticable. Every language has words and phrases for which another can supply no equivalents, and words have associations that can not be transferred to foreign ones. It seems that there must be a sacrifice in part either of fidelity to the original or of elegance of style. If the translator strives to give the exact meaning of the original, he is apt to neglect ease and grace of expres- sion ; if he is intent on giving to his work the graces of style, he will, very likely, fail to render the thought of the original with exactness. Two extremes are to be avoided. — The one, that of servile literal translation, which is rather a translation of separate words than of entire thoughts. It adheres as closely as pos- sible to the number and order of words, and to the construction of the original; word corresponds to word, sentence to sen- tence. Translations made according to this method are neither accurate nor elegant ; they do not give the spirit and meaning of the original, are stiff and obscure, substitute foreign idioms Sec. 8 INTRODUCTION. . 21 for native, and are mostly mere caricatures " which exemplify all the faults incident to language and exclude every excel- lence." The other extreme is that of a loose or excessively free translation; one that renders the thought with great latitude and indulges freely in periplu-asis, interpolations, and omis- sions. This method may present us with works written in idiomatic English and with great beauty of style, but they are unfaithful representations of the original ; in many cases they mutilate, if they do not misrepresent its meaning, and they never reproduce the nice shades of thought involved in par- ticular words and their arrangement. While it is the duty of a translator to conform always to his native idiom, it is also his duty to present faithfully the thoughts of the original without mutilation and without any admixture of his own views. And if case and elegance are attainable only at the expense of fidelity, some degi-ee of roughness is to be preferred. 8. Study of Models. — The study of systematic Ehetoric and practice in composition will not accomplish to any adequate extent theii' end unless they are combined with the study of models of literary excellence. It is a gi'eat mistake to exclude this study from a course of rhetorical training, or to give to it a subordinate place. It is only by the constant application of the principles of Ehetoric to the masterpieces of genius and taste (which are the most perfect results of the processes whose laws it investigates), that it can be saved fi-om becoming a collection of narrow artificial rules, and rhetorical practice be prevented from de- generating into a mechanical process. Without such a study of literary models, rhetorical rules and precepts can not be intelligible. Its relation to sys- tematic Ehetoric has been very aptly compared to that which the examination of the actual experiments of the philosopher bears to the abstract statements and formulas in which the results of the experiments are embodied. The necessity of 22 . INTRODUCTION. Sec. 8 examining experiments is even gi-eater in literary studies than in natural science. The benefits of an intelligent and prolonged study of the standards of taste are,— that it both shows the pupil what real excellence is and incites him to seek it; leads him to the knowledge of his own peculiar tastes and aptitudes ; quickens his perception of what is correct and incoiTect, beautiful and deformed ; and imparts a more vigorous and elevated mode of thinking. The beginner needs a judicious adviser to du'ect him what to study and how to study. What to Study. — The works should be few, and those the most perfect of their kind. Writers whose style is bad are not suitable for beginners, whose taste is not yet fonned, and Avho are more easily led astray by brilliant faults, than im- pressed by unobtrusive excellences. There should be a sufficient variety in the selection. Otlier- A\ise, the pupil will be in danger of servile imitation, and will lose the advantages that are derived from the comparison of different writers. He should not be confined to prose, but should become familiar with the standards in all departments of literature. "One can," says Hegel, "and one ought to become acquainted with all that is glorious in literature." The "volumes paramount" of our English literature should be unremittingly studied, — those great national works " which have mingled with the life blood of the people, and from which all classes for generation after generation draw their views of nature and life, Avhich form the bonds of intellectual and moral sympathy amongst ii.ll, in which all ranks may meet as in a church and all may feel at home." — [Hare, Guesses at Truth.] How to Study. — The student should analyze the works and apply to tliem, and test by tliem, the principles of literary criticism. He should endeavor to discover the writei-'s reasons for his choice and arrangement of words and his management Sec. 9 INTRODUCTION. 23 of the subject. And as it is impossible in one exercise to apply all the rhetorical principles to a composition of even moderate size, the same work should be made the object of repeated special examination. At one time, its general plan may be examined; at another, the mode' of amplifying some of the leading ideas ; at another, the stracture of the sentences and paragraphs ; at another, the choice of words, etc. The attention of the student should be directed to the beau- ties of the work, not to its defects merely. The best criticism is that which finds out the excellence of a composition ; and it is by far the most difficult. It is the indication of sound judg- ment and refined taste. It should be remembered that oui- powers are improved by contemplating what is excellent, not what is deformed; and also that beginners are not prepared to point out defects. 9. Distribution of Rhetoric. — "We shall first treat of the general principles common to all forms of prose, and then apply these principles to the different kinds of matter and discourse. These principles relate to the matter of the discourse, — i. c, to the thoughts of which it is composed, — and to the style, — i. e., to the expression of the thoughts iu language. The thoughts are piincipal, the language is but accessory ; but neither can be neglected by the writer. The merit of a literary work does not depend exclusively either on the quality of its matter or on its diction, but on the union of the t«o. There must be true and appropriate thoughts clothed in fitting words. A work in which gi-eat truths are communicated in obscure and confused language may be valuable as a Mork of science, but can not be ranked among works of literature. On the other hand, no artifices of diction can give value to a dis- course wanting in vigorous thought. Sound tliought is the indispensable condition of good writing. The student's atten- tion is, accordingly, directed first to the mental processes con- cern(Hl with the matter of the discourse, and aftenvards to the laws for the expression of thought in language. 24 INTEODUCTION. Sec. 9 Different kinds of Matter. — The matter of discourse is of different kinds. In communicating knowledge, we may ha^e an object to describe, an event to narrate, a general notion to explain, or a proposition to prove. Description, ISTan-ation, Exposition, and Ai'gumentation are therefore the elements, or elementary forms, of all discourse. They must be considered separately, and the general principles be applied to each. Different kinds of Discourse. — These elements are com- bined in different ways and modified according to the purpose of the writer. Thus arise distinct kinds or classes of discourse; as, didactic, historical, oratorical; each of which, while it has much in common with the others, has its distinctive features and special laws. It is part of the office of Ehetoric to classify the leading forms of prose, and to exhibit their characteristic marks. This Work distributed into Four Parts. — This treatise is distributed into four parts. The first part treats of the proc- esses conversant about the matter of a discourse; the second, of the principles of style; the third, of the elementaiy fonns of a discourse; the fourth, of the principal foims of prose. PAET I. TBE PROCESSES CONVERSANT ABOUT THE MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. PEELIMINAEY. 10. What are the processes conversant about the matter of a Discourse ? — We are to investigate, iirst of all, the procr esses concerned with the matter of discourse and then- laws. We shall examine and exhibit in their natural order the various mental acts involved in the process of composition, from the finding of the subject to its complete development. This part might very appropriately be entitled, — The Method of Compo- sition (excluding what is concerned with the expression of the thoughts in language). A preliminary caution is necessary. Any analysis of men- tal phenomena is defective and partially false, for it exhibits as separate what in nature are inseparable. The psychologist discusses separately thought, feeling, and volition, yet the three blend in every act. So in Rhetoric we separate thought and language, although they are mutuallv dependent, each supposing the other, and we consider as entirely distinct the finding of the thoughts and the aiTanging of them, whereas, in reality, the two processes often mingle. Still, as it is impor- tant that the student obtain a distinct vie^^• of the complex process, and as each part of it, though dependent on and im- plied in the others, has its distinctive features, it is necessary for the sake of clearness to examine each separately. Wlien one wishes to accomplish some definite object by means of a discourse either spoken or written, he has, — Rhet, 3 {^) 26 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 10 1. To find some thought connected with this end or aim which will serve as the basis of Ids discourse ; i. e., to find a subject. 2. To gather and select the ideas involved in, or associated with the subject that are needed to develop it adequately. 3. To arrange these ideas in the order required by the natm-e of the discom-se and his special pm-pose. 11, The main and the subordinate ideas to be distin- guished. — We find in every discourse certain thoughts that are more important than the rest; they are derived immedi- ately from the main idea, or subject, are indispensable parts of its development, constitute the grand divisions of the dis- course, and contain a number of thoughts under them. These are the main ideas of the discourse. There are others which sustain the same relation to the main ideas as these do to the subject; they are derived from them, and serve to explain, illustrate, and enforce them. These are called the subordinate ideas. It is important to distinguish between these. The main thoughts must always be found and arranged before the sub- ordinate ones can be selected. The labor of composing as well as of analyzing ^ill be rendered much less tedious and per- plexing if this distinction is kept in view. Distribution of this Part. — In accordance with what has just been said, tliis Part is divided into the following chap- ters : I. TiiE Subject of a Discotjesb. II. Invention, or the finding of the main ideas of a dis- com-se. III. Disposition, or the an-anging of the main ideas. TV. Amplification, or the finding and an-anging of the subordinate ideas. Sec. 12 SUBJECT OF A DISCOUESE. 27 CHAPTEE I. THE SUBJECT OF A DISCOURSE, 12. The Subject either given or left to the writer's choice. — The subject of a discoui'Be is the general idea or thought connected with the aim of the writer which he intends to present in some of its aspects. It may be given to him with more or less definiteness, as in the eloquence of the senate and of the bar, in prize essays, and in many collegiate exercises ; or it may be left to his choice, as in the eloquence of the pulpit and in most kinds of composition. Forms in which given. — It may be expressed literally or figuratively ; in a single term or phrase ; in a sentence — de- clarative, interrogative, or imperative — or combination of sen- tences. In whatever fonn the subject is given, the writer can not enter on the work of composition imtil lie has ascertained what is the precise idea that the words are intended to convey. His first task then is to weigh the tenns and analyze the sentences in Avhich his subject is expressed. Rules to be observed. — ^The following rales should be ob- served : 1. Whatever notions are not sufficiently clear and distinct must be defined, or, at least, their essential qualities must be enumerated; poetic expressions should be converted into prose; figm-ative, into literal. Example. — " The battle of Marathon, one of the decisive battles of the world." Tlie meaning of the word decisive as used in this connection should be accurately determined. " Men's evil manners live in brass ; Their vii'tues we write in water." Men's evil deeds are remembered long after their good deeds are forgot- ten. 28 MATTER OP A DISCOURSE. Sec. 12 "Exercise tliyself unto godliness." " Train thyself— tliy religious char- acter — with an eagerness and activity, patience and ijerseverance like that of the athletes training their bodies for the games." 2. The relations of the several notions as limiting, qualify- ing, supplementing each other are to be carefully noticed, lest tlie subject he understoocl in a' sense either too extensive or too narrow, and a subordinate be taken for the main idea. Ex. — "The study of Mathematics as an exercise of miiid." Not the science but the studij; not the practical, material utilities of the study, but its utility as a means of intellectual discipline. "If it he possihle, as much as lieth in you live peaceably with all men." The duty enjoined can not be exhibited in its entire extent and with its necessary limitations, if the qualifications contained in the words, "if it he possible" and "all," are not accurately weighed. 3. It must be ascertained whether the proposition contains several judgments or but a single one. If it is complex, it must be separated into the several judg- ments contained in it. Sometimes several distinct judginents can be combined, and a new one formed comprehending all of them. Ex. — "The universality and evil effects of prejudice.'' Two distinct assertions are contained in this: (1) Prejudice is universal; (2) Its effects are injurious. "There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to foi-tune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries." The two assertions, that opportune moments occur in a man's life, and that the neglect to improve them brings disaster and suffering, may be embraced in the single imperative sentence, "Improve the present oppor- timity." •"Prove all things, hold fast what is good." Tlie two commands may be reduced to one, "Avoid the extremes of credulity and skepticism." 13. The Subject chosen by the Writer.— When the subject is left to the choice of the writer, he is often embarrassed in Sec. 13 SUBJECT OF A DISCOURSE. 29 selecting from tlie crowd of thoughts presented to his mind the one that is suited to his pm-pose. His range of choice will be limited by his special studies, his taste, the opportunity for preparation, etc. ; but that he may not en- at the Tery outset, he must, in addition to these, take into consideration the rela- tion of the subject to himself and to the reader. The relation of the Subject to the Writer It must be appropriate to his age and attainments, and one, of the tmth and importance of which he is thoroughly convinced. Fullness of knowledge and thoroughness of conviction are the primary, conditions of power in communicating thought. " Speak not at all, in anywise," says Carlyle, " until you have somewhat to speak; care not for the reward of your speaking, but simply and with undivided mind for the truth of your speaking." The attempt to discuss a subject beyond the writer's ca- pacity and knowledge must end in failure. He does not know what to say ; ho can not use the materials he has ; his pro- duction will be a series of vague general expressions conveying no distinct notions to himself or to the reader, a collection of second-hand sentiments and empty commonplaces strung to- gether in an artificial, fiigid manner, which can neither inter- est nor affect others. That the writer should be convinced of the truth and im- portance of his subject is demanded on rhetorical grounds apart from moral. Our feelings exert a powerful influence upon our intellectual activities. A deep moral interest in the subject fixes the attention on it, calls up from memory related thoughts, and directs them to the main end for which the dis- course is made ; while the consciousness of insincerity distracts the mind and prevents the writer from yielding himself en- tirely to his subject. His meditation will be languid and painful ; and the coldness, artificial structure, and want of real unity of the discourse will betray his untnithfulness. This explains why many discourses that have very gi'eat defects are nevertheless so convincing and persuasive, while 30 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 13 others, apparently con-ect and finislied, are so feeble. The laws of discoui-se are the laws of sincere utterance, and can be obeyed only by the sincere. The relation of the Subject to the Reader. — It must be suited to the character and condition of those to whom the discourse is addressed. The discourse is but a means to an end ; if its subject is not appropriate to the temper, feelings, intellectual and moral con- dition, and circumstances of the readers, it can not interest them and must fail to accomplish its pm-pose. 14. The determination of the Subject. — The subject when first chosen by the writer has not the definite form and limits in which it will be presented in the discourse. In a well constructed work we find no difficulty in discovering its main idea, — that to which the others are subordinate and of which they are only the development. But we must not suppose, that the form in which we thus find it is that in which it occm-red originally to the writer. It was at first a somewhat vague and indefinite general idea, connected in some of its parts with his purpose, but containing also much that had no connection with it ; it was related to a number of other sub- jects, and was equally suitable to discourses of various kinds and for different puiT)oses. Prolonged reflection was necessary to limit this vague and indetenninate subject, and to adapt it to the special character and aim of the discourse. To effect this, it was necessary to contemplate it from a particular point of view, to dwell upon whatever it contained that related to the end to be realized, neglecting all that was iiTelevant, however interesting and important in other respects it might be. This process is called determining the subject. 15. The Theme. — When tlie subject is thus determined and is expressed as briefly and precisely as possible in language, it is called the theme. Sec. 15 SUBJECT OP A DISCOURSE. 31 The subject and the theme are usually regartled as iden- tical. The distinction between them is, however, real and important. The subject is a general thought connected with the aim of the writer ; the theme is the subject limited and modified by the end in view, by the character of the discourse, and by the cu-cumstances of the case. It is the clearest, brief- est, most precise statement of so much of the subject as the wi-iter intends to develop in his work. A number of entirely different themes can be derived from the same subject. For example, several writers could discuss such a subject as Wealth or Labor, and no two of them hare ■the same theme. One would confine himself to its econom- ical, another to its social, another to its reUgious aspects. Each would limit and modify the same general subject, and appropriate what suits his special purpose. Its requisites. — The theme is the germ of the entire dis- course, for the discom-se is only the explicit statement of what is contained implicitly in the theme. It is all important that the writer lay it down in his mind in its proper form ; if he neglect to do so he will inevitably fail to accomplish his end. If properly laid down, the theme should comply with the fol- lowing conditions : 1. It should grow naturally out of the study of the subject both in its real nature and in its relation to the object to be accomplished. If the subject is not mastered, the theme will be drawn from a superficial and erroneous view of it, will contain extraneous matter, and may have no connection what- ever with it. If the subject is carefully studied, but without special reference to the application of it that we wish to make, the idea adapted to om- purpose will not be found. In both cases the theme will be arbitrary. The Arater must not be too precipitate in laying down his theme. He can not obtain it until the work of meditation is finished. 2. It should have unity. Unity is not simplicity. The theme may be a complex thought, but however complex, it should be but one thought. This is indispensable to the imity 30 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 13 others, apparently coirect and finislietl, are so feeble. The laws of discoui-se are the laws of sincere utterance, and can be obeyed only by the sincere. The relation of the Subject to the Reader. — It must be suited to the character and condition of those to whom the discourse is addressed. The discourse is but a means to an end ; if its subject is not appropriate to the temper, feelings, intellectual and moral con- dition, and cii-cumstances of the readers, it can not interest them and must fail to accompHsh its purpose. 14. The determination of the Subject. — The subject when first chosen by the writer has not the definite form and limits in which it will be presented in the discourse. In a well constructed work we find no difficulty in discovering its main idea, — that to which the others are subordinate and of which they are only the development. But we must not suppose, that the form in which we thus find it is that in which it occm'red originally to the writer. It was at first a somewhat vague and indefinite general idea, connected in some of its parts with his purpose, but containing also much that had no connection with it; it was related to a number of other sub- jects, and was equally suitable to discourses of various kinds and for different pui'poses. Prolonged reflection was necessary to limit this vague and indetemiinate subject, and to adapt it to the special character and aim of the discom-se. To effect this, it was necessary to contemplate it from a particular point of view, to dwell upon whatever it contained that related to the end to be realized, neglecting all that was iiTelevant, however interesting and important in other respects it might be. This process is called determining the subject. 15. The Theme. — When the subject is thus determined and is expressed as briefly and precisely as possible in language, it is called the theme. Sec. 15 SUBJECT OF A DISCOUESE. 31 The subject and the theme are usually regarded as iden- tical. The distinction between them is, however, real and important. The subject is a general thought connected with the aim of the writer; the theme is the subject limited and modified by the end in ^dew, by the character of the discourse, and by the cii'cumstances of the case. It is the clearest, brief- est, most precise statement of so much of the subject as the writer intends to deyelop in his work. A number of entirely different themes can be derived from the same subject. For example, several writers could discuss such a subject as Wealth or Labor, and no two of them have the same theme. One would confine himself to its econom- ical, another to its social, another to its religious aspects. Each would limit and modify the same general subject, and appropriate what suits his special purpose. Its requisites. — The theme is the germ of the entire dis- course, for the discom-se is only the explicit statement of what is contained implicitly in the theme. It is all important that the writer lay it down in his mind in its proper form ; if he neglect to do so he will inevitably fail to accomplish his end. If properly laid down, the theme should comply with the fol- lowing conditions : 1. It should grow naturally out of the study of the subject both in its real nature and in its relation to the object to be accomplished. If the subject is not mastered, the theme will be drawn from a superficial and erroneous view of it, will contain extraneous matter, and may have no connection what- ever with it. If the subject is carefully studied, but without special reference to the application of it that we w ish to make, the idea adapted to om- purpose will not be found. In both cases the theme will be arbitrary. The writer must not be too precipitate in laying down his theme. He can not obtain it until the work of meditation is finished. 2. It should have unity. Unity is not simplicity. The theme may be a complex thought, but however complex, it should be but one thought. This is indispensable to the unity 32 MATTER OF A DISCOUESE. Sec. 15 of the discourse, which is the result of the subordination of all its parts to one dominant idea. If the theme is composed of a number of distinct thoughts, the discourse, instead of being one complete, organic whole, will be a mixtm-e of fi'agments of several discourses on diii'erent themes. 3. It must be neither too broad nor too naiTow. When it is too broad, i. e., when it embraces more than is necessary — any thing more than the aim and character of the work de- mands—the writer, if he develops it natui-ally and con-ectly, is compelled to admit a gi-eat deal that is irrelevant, which, besides adding unnecessaiHy to the length of his production, withdraws tlie attention fi-om the main point, and renders the total impression feeble and indistinct. When it is too naiTow, i. e., when it does not express the whole thought of the writer, and embrace all that is essential to liis purpose, — as he dare not admit into the development what is not contained in the theme, he can not communicate what he wishes, or can do so only by abandoning his theme. 4. It should be comprehensive rather than c'xt(;Bsive. Ex- tensive or very general themes — such as cover a gi-eat deal of ground — are, for the most part, less fertile than more compre- hensive or particular ones. The restricted view of a subject furnishes more abundant and valuable matter. In a broad theme, as the. writer has not space to unfold and illustrate his statements, he is confined to vague generalities and trite remarks ; while in a less extensive theme, he is compelled to examine the details more thoroughly and to distinguish them more precisely, and so can present a gi'eater variety of particu- lar ideas. 5. It must be clear and distinct. The writer must not be content with a mere general impression, but should state it with tlie greatest possible clearness and keep it constantly in view. Any uncertainty as to its meaning or extent, or indis- tinctness in the notions contained in it, will lead to the viola- tion of its unity by confounding it with connected or related yet different ideas, and to looseness and obscurity in its treat- ment. Sec. 16 SUBJECT OF A DISCOUESE. 33 16. The Title. — The title is intended to convey to others a general idea of the nature and contents of the work. Its choice, especially in the more pui-ely literary productions, is often a matter of considerable difficulty. Rules for the choice of. — The niles to be obsened in choosing a title are : 1. It should express the main idea of the work. A title drawn from a subordinate idea is idle and often misleading. Even those cases in which it is the purpose of the writer not to reveal at first the drift of his work are not exceptions to tliis rule. In all cases it is necessary that the appropriateness of the title, if not apparent at first, should become so in the course of the work. 2. It should not promise too much, and so raise expectations that will be disappointed. 3. It should be concise, readily understood, and easily re- membered. Verbosity and new or uncommon words are no- where more out of place than in the title. At the same time, whatever has the appearance of affectation, pedantiy, and pre- sumption ought to be avoided. 4. When figurative expressions arc used, the propriety of their application should be easily recognized. Objection, for example, has frequently been made to the title of Johnson's Eambler; as it suits neither the character of the work nor of the author. 5. An explanatory phrase or clause is sometimes annexed to a figurative or general title to prevent misconception of the scope of the work or to indicate it with more exactness. Ex. — " Biographia Litei-aria; ov BioRrapliical Sketches of my Literary life and opinions.'' (Coleridge.) "Soeial Statics; or the conditions es- sential to Human Happiness specified, and the first of them developed." (Herbert Spencer.) "Truth, Falsehood, and Fiction;— au Allegory." (Johnson.) 36 MATTEK OF A DISCOUESE. Sec. 17 quirements of otliers ; nor can lie always foresee what conclu- sions his inquiries will lead him to. It is very different with the writer ^\ho intends to communicate knowledge. He is supposed to be already in possession of what he wishes to convey to others. The process of investigation is completed, the facts and principles are already ascertained, before the work of composition begins. Invention, then, is not a process by which we extend our knowledge or give to it gi'eater clear- ness and certainty, but one by which we gather fi'oni our own stores whatever can aid us in accomplishing our object. It is not a search for new truths ; but for facts, principles, argu- ments, and motives to explain, establish, or enforce what we already know or believe. He who seeks to present trath in an intelligible and con- vincing manner to others must regard many things that ought never to influence him whose aim is to ascertain the truth. And it is not always the case, that one who has obtained clearness and certainty in his views has the sldll to render them clear and certain to others. Invention differs from inves- tigation in not being regulated exclusively by the nature of the subject-matter; it is a process whose direction and limits are determined by the object of the writer, by the kind of discom-se he intends to make, and by the character and condition of those for whom he writes. 18. Meditation. — ^Although we are supposed to be familiar with the subject upon wliicli we propose to write, it is seldom that our knowledge is so completely under our control that we can recall it at once and present it in its appropriate form. Of what we have gathered at different times fi'om various quarters, much lies dormant in the memory; the full import of much is not unfolded; many of the facts and principles bearing iipon our pui-pose lie disconnected, and their relation to each other and their importance are not recognized. It is necessary to cause the subject to pass before the mind; to render clear what is obscure, to recall what is latent, to bring together the scattered fragments, and thus obtain a general Sec. 19 INVENTION. 37 idea of the nmin thoughts which should constitute the develop- ment of the subject. The means by which this is accom- plished is called meditation. What included in ? — It includes two distinct mental opera- tions : 1. Recollection, or the gathering of tlie facts and principles involved in the subject or connected with it. 2. Selection, or the choosing of such as are suited to the nature and end of the discourse. 19. Recollection. — The first step of the writer, after choos- ing his subject, is to recall whatever he has read, or leanied, or thought that relates to it, — all the facts and principles in- volved in it or connected with it. This process is governed liy what are called the laws of association. No thought arises in the mind cntu-ely isolated; each brings with it a number of related ones. The thought of an effect suggests that of a cause, the thought of an end suggests that of a means, the thought of one object suggests another resembling it or differing fi-om it, etc. When we concentrate our attention upon any subject, we bring it with gi'eater distinctness and vividness before consciousness, and, at the same time, awaken a number of accessory ideas. Our success in gathering ii-om the materials in our posses- sion what suits our pui-pose depends upon our power of con- tinuous thinking. The first suggestions are generally obscm-e, supei-ficial, and commonplace. It requu'es perseverance to extort from the mind its treasures. By prolonged brooding over the subject our interest in it increases, and both the sug- gestive faculty and the judgment act more vigorously. iS"ew relations are detected, new combinations are formed, new applications are discovered, and the subject with all its quali- ties and parts and associated ideas is brought distinctly before the mind. The young writer needs to be cautioned against being over- scmpulous and systematic in conducting this process. He 38 MATTEE OF A DISCOUESE. Sec. 19 should not allow the critical powers to cramp the suggestive. Having set clearly before liimself the end he wishes to realize, let him yield himself to the subject and to the impressions that it makes upon him, and abandon himself boldly to the cuiTent of his thoughts. They will not arise in the shape or order in which they will appear in the finished composition. Many of them will be incoiTect, inappropriate, defective. But he should not chill the ardor of thought by pausing to separate the true from the false, the suitable from the unsuitable, or to estimate the importance of the several thoughts and to assign them then- place. Let him first gather his materials ; afterwards he can examine and sift them. If he attempt to combine the two operations, the flow of ideas v.iW be checked, and many valua- ble thoughts will be lost. It is advisable to write down the thoughts as they are suggested, to aid in remembering them and to facilitate the difficult process of selection. 20. Selection. — By the process just described a gi-eat amount of materials has been accumulated, not all of which, however, can be incorporated into the discourse. The \^aiter's next step is to select from this mass what suits his purpose. This is often a matter of great difficulty and fi-equent discour- agement; he does, not know what to choose out of the crowd of particulars, and sees no way of bringing order out of the confusion. Selection is an act of the judgment. There are certain characteristics or qualities the presence of which in an idea, justifies or requires its admission into, and the absence of which requires its exclusion from a discourse ; selection con- sists in examining the various ideas that have been gathered to find whether they have these essential marks. The first inquiry is. Are they trae 1 The second. Are they adapted to the natm'e and end of the discourse °i Whatever is false, or appears to be false, weakens, if it does not desti-oy, the effect of a production designed to enlighten, convince, or persuade. All the notions, judgments, and rea- Sec. 20 INVENTION. 39 sonings must be scratinized, and the en-oneous statements and fallacious reasonings be rejected. With these should be rejected also whatever is wanting in subjective truth, i. c, whatever is not in hannony with the writer's belief and feel- ings, or is contrary to his experience. It is not enough that the thoughts be tme, they must also have the quality of adaptation. This includes several things : 1. Adaptation to the particular kind of discourse. The principle of selection is not the same for all kinds of composi- tion. The effect of a work is often injm-ed by the intrusion of matter that is appropriate only to one of an entirely different nature ; as, for instance, when purely didactic or purely poetical matter is introduced into a discom-se the aim of which is to move the will. 2. Adaptation to the reader. A •wiiter must choose what is suitable to the condition and requirements of those whom he addresses, and will often have to reject what to himself seems more important. The materials selected for an essay or ti'ea- tise intended for popular instruction are different from those of a scientific work addressed to a limited class of intelligent readers. 3. The different thoughts are to be examined, as to their mutual dependence. The scattered related thoughts are to be brought together and combined into more comprehensive state- ments. And from them are to be chosen the main ideas essential to the development of the subject. Result of the process. — As the result of the whole process the writer obtains what is often called the idea of the dis- course, by which is meant a general view of the leading thoughts that should enter into it. These thoughts are still of a very general character, and are not in the order which the nature of the discourse requires. They are next to be suitably aiTanged and then expanded into their subordinate ideas. These two processes will be treated of under the heads of Disposition and Amplification. 4:0 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 21 21. Systematic Meditation. — The process of meditation described above (Sees. 17-19) is called natural or free, because the order of thoughts is determined by the natm-al laws of the association of ideas. There is another kind of meditation called logical, or systematic, which is a regulated, metliodical procedure. It consists in proposing a series of questions with reference to the subject and endeavoring to answer them. Topics. — To aid in this, what are called topics are em- ployed. These are certain very general notions which afford points of view fi-om which to contemplate a given subject. By bringing these notions in succession before the mind and applying them to the subject to be examined, we can view it in its parts and relations. The topics are of two kinds, general and special. We can frame questions that are applicable to a great variety of ob- jects; e. (/., What is it"? — by which we obtain its definition or description. What is its cause? With what can it be compared ? etc. Besides these general topics, there are others which are used in certain classes of subjects. One series of questions is used when the subject is an event, another when it is a person, another when it is a general notion. Thus, with reference to a person the questions would be concerning his nation, age, rank, employment, character, etc. With respect to an event, the questions would be as to time, place, parties engaged, causes, effects, attendant circum- stances, etc. Their utility. — It is manifest that every one must use some of these topics in writing. But there is a gi-eat disagreement with respect to the utility of preparing and using full schemes or hsts of topics. Tliis artificial method of invention has a prominent place in the ancient rhetorics, but has been very generally excluded fi-om the modem. There is no doubt, how- ever, that although it is liable to abuse, it can be employed Avith profit in a course of rhetorical discipline. The use of topics does not exempt fi-om the necessity of Sec. 22 INVENTION. 41 patient reflection. They are not tliouglits, but mere hints to guide our thinking, to indicate the direction in which we are to look for thoughts. They are of but little seryice to those who ha\-e ab-eady studied the subject scientifically, for these have a complete scheme of topics in the science ; but to begin- ners they are necessary. To them the subject is at first vague and confused : their gi-eatest difficulty is to know what to look for. A properly prepared scheme of topics assists them in giving order and distinctness to their thoughts, by limiting the extent of the field, by making prominent the points to be noticed, and by marking out a path in which their thoughts may proceed. It is not meant that this topical meditation should be sub- stituted for the natural. Its use is, (1) to prepare for the natiu'al by giving a general view of the subject, and by bring- ing to notice its different sides ; and (2) to supplement it, by discovering whether any essential points have been neglected. The use of topics will be explained in considering the ele- mentary forms of discom'se. (Part III.) 22. Readings as an aid to Invention. — ^Yhen the subject admits of it, reading upon the same or upon related subjects should be connected with meditation. Its uses are: first, to stimulate the suggestive faculty ; secondly, to supply the defi- ciencies in om- knowledge. Method of Reading. — 1. The general n\le is, that it should precede writing and follow meditation ; or as it is expressed by Jean Paul Richter, " Never write upon a subject without liaving first read yom-self full of it, and. never read without having first thought yourself hungry." Gibbon gives the same advice. " After a rapid glance," he tells us, " on the subject and distribution of a new book, I suspend the reading of it, which I only resume after having examined the subject in all its relations ; after having called up in my solitary walks all that I ha^e read, or thought, or learned in regard to the subject of the whole book or of some chapter in particular. I Rhet. I 42 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 22 thus place myself in a condition to estimate what the author jnay add to my general stock of knowledge, and I am thus sometimes favorably disposed by the accordance, sometimes armed by the opposition of our views." By previous meditation, the end we have in view in reading is more firmly fixed, and the mind is less liable to be diverted to foreign matters, or into vague, general reading. Reading is also rendered more suggestive and profitable. When the mind is occupied with a subject, it detects quickly whatever is related to it, and finds materials in the most unexpected quarters. There are few books that will not suggest some- thing new and appropriate to a full mind. 2. The reading should be varied. By seeing how the same subject is treated by different and opposing authors, new views are obtained, and our knowledge becomes more comprehen- sive. 3. The thoughts gathered or suggested should be written down in clear, precise statements. If only general impres- sions are received, reading will only confuse and bm-den the mind. 4. The materials gathered must be made our own by vigor- ous thought. They must be sifted; what suits our pui-pose must be selected, and, by prolonged meditation, be combined and brought into harmony with our own stores; — be fused into them, modifying them and in turn being modified by them. In this way only can the thoughts of others become our own ; they are -otherwise but lumber stored in the memory, and can not be transferred to our own writings without render- ing us liable to the charge of plagiarism. Remarks. — (1) To what extent we may avail ourselves of the mental possessions of others is a question of morals. The two extremes of false originality and of plagiarism are to he avoided. He who will make no use of what others have done will not be likely to give to the world any- thing valuable. Nothing is easier and more worthless than the originality of ignorance. Our greatest authors have borrowed most freely; but, as Dryden says of Ben Jonson, "they invade authors like monarclis.'' (2) "I call that the best theme,'' says Dr. Arnold, "which shows that Sec. 23 DISPOSITION. i3 the boy lias read and thought for himself; that the next best wliich shdwa that lie has read several books, and digested what he has read ; and that the worst which shows that he has followed but one book, and that with- out reflection.'' CHAPTEE III. DISPOSITION. 23. Disposition, nature of. — Disposition consists in arrang- ing the materials furnished by meditation in such an order and connection as correspond with the special character and aim of the discourse. It presupposes that the writer has gathered the main ideas, and decided on the form of composition in which he will em- body them. He is now requii'ed to distribute them to their appropriate places, fix their limits, and combine them into a complete, harmonious whole. Importance of. — There can be no discourse without order and proportion. A discourse is not a series of independent propositions, but the continuous development of a single theme ; its effects are produced by it as a whole, not by some sejjarate part. HowcA'cr numerous the thoughts contained in it, they must all be subordinate to one leading thought, all be mutu- ally dependent as members of one organic whole. Only in this relation to each other and to the entire discourse, do they obtaip their real significance. It is not sufficient then that the separate statements are intelligible ; they must be so arranged as to support and illus- trate each other, and that each shall contribute to the total impression, else the entire thought is not conununicated and the full import of the parts can not be understood. Remark. — The importance of disposition in composition has been insisted npon both by the most competent teachers of rhetoric and by 44 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 23 the greatest masters of style. Einne pronounces it " the heart of the theory of style;" and the famous discourse of Buflon on style is but an expansion of the same idea ; he defines style, as the order and movement we give to our tlioughts. Originality, according to Pascal, consists not so much in the newness of the individual thoughts as in their combination. "The disposition of the materials," lie says, "is something new. In playing tennis both use the same ball, but one places it better than the other. It might as well be objected that I use current woi'ds ; as if the same thoughts did not form a different body of discourse by a different arrangement, just as the same words differently disposed form different thoughts." To the same effect Vinet says: "Good thoughts, as Pascal says, are abundant. Tlie art of organizing tliem is not so common. It requires sometimes a greater capacity to find the relations and appropri- ate places of these organic molecules. We should perhaps be within bounds in saying that disposition in a discourse is not of more secondary importance than the mode of aggi-egation of molecules in a physical sub- stance ; this mode in a great measure constitutes the nature of the body." [Homiletics, Skinner's translation, p. 264.] So also Wliateley: "Ar- rangement is a more important point than is generally supposed ; indeed, it is not perhaps of less consequence in composition than in the military art ; in which it is well known, that with an equality of forces, in num- bers, courage, and every other point, the manner in which they are drawn up, so as either to afford mutual support, or, on the other hand, even to impede or annoy each other, may make the difierence of victory or defeat." [Rhetoric, p. 168.] 24. Preparation of the Plan The law of order extends to every portion of the composition; to the combination of ideas in the sentences as well as to the more complex combi- nations of the principal divisions. But before proceeding to the an-angement of the details, the writer must attend to the more general procedure of fixing the hmits and determining the contents of the organic parts of the discourse, which is usually called preparing the plan. What are the organic parts of a discourse ? — The organic parts of a discom-se are the introduction, the body of the dis- course, and the conclusion. These are all essential parts of an organic, indivisible whole. We are not to infer, because some precede and others follow and we can separate them in our analysis, that they are inde- Sec. 24 DISPOSITION. 45 pendent of each other, or that a discourse can be complete with some of them wanting. It is the same with a discom-se as with a syllogism. We can separate the propositions of the latter, and each will express a distinct and intelligible judg- ment, but it will have lost its peculiar force and meaning as a part of the syllogism. So the introduction, body of the dis- course, and conclusion, are all integrant parts of a complex but single and simultaneous thought; each has its special purpose to subserve, and is indispensable to the development of the theme ; each is dependent on the others, and out of relation to them loses all its sitcniticance. What contained in the plan ? — The plan, or outline, con- tains a summary statement, in their proper order and connec- tion, of the essential ideas of the introduction, of the body of the discourse, and of the conclusion. What is merely explana- tory and illustrative is excluded, as attention to minuiiw will confuse and lead astray, and defeat the purpose for which the plan is made. But although the main points are given briefly, they must be given with the utmost clearness and precision. The divisions and subdivisions should be carefully marked, and be so formed that the relation of the parts to each other and to the theme can be easily perceived and remembered. The necessity of preparing one. — Without a clearly con- ceived plan, a writer is not prepared to treat of a subject of any degree of complexity. He can not select from the thoughts that occur to him those that are appropriate, nor give them their place; he w'lW omit many essential ideas and exhibit others of them imperfectly, while subordinate ones will be dis- proportionately expanded; he can not avoid wandering from his theme, and resorting to repetitions and digressions. The discourse, in its want of clearness, of unity, of completeness, and of progress, will be a faithful expression of the uncertainty and confusion in the writer's mind. Cut when he has a carefully traced plan he detects at once the omission of any essential point ; he can examine the parts 46 MATTER OF A DISCOUESE. Sec. 24 and divisions, and discover what transitions are needed to bind them together and secure » continuous movement of the thoughts ; he has before liim all the main ideas by amplifying which he will give fullness and life to the development Qf the theme ; and having determined the proportion of the various parts, he can give to both principal and accessory ideas their place and due prominence. He will proceed with ease and confidence, gaining strength as he advances; "he has only pleasure in writing," says Buffon, "ideas follow each other readily, style is natural and easy ; warmth, springing from this pleasure, diffuses itself every-where, and gives life to each expression ; all is more and more animated ; the tone rises ; tlie objects assume color ; and sentiment combining with light increases it, extends it, transfers it fi-om what is said to what is to be said, and the style becomes interesting and lumi- nous.'' But to secure these advantages, the plan must not be pre- pared until after prolonged meditation. We can' arrange only such matter as we have ; and if fi-om the want of serious reflec- tion, our thoughts are few, or trivial, or obscure, the disposition can not but be imperfect and comparatively useless. 25. The laws of Disposition both general and special. — Disposition is of different kinds according to the matter and class of discourse. A method of arrangement adapted to a scientific treatise will not suit an oration. A naiTation, a description, an exposition, and an argument, require each a different kind of disposition. The laws for these special modes of disposition will be given in their appropriate places. Here we shall treat of the general laws of disposition. These laws relate to the introduction, the body of a dis- course, the conclusion, and the transitions. 26. The nature and purpose of the Introduction. — The introduction is a natural and necessary part of the discourae, although it is more prominent and extended in some works than in others. We see, for instance, in the briefest essay Sec. 26 DISPOSITION. 47 how much depends on the aspect of the subject that is first presented. The pecuUar purposes of the introduction are : 1. To prepare tlie reader to apprehend the precise point to which his attention is to be directed, and to understand wliat is contained in tlie body of the discourse. Whether we describe, nan-ate, or prove, we must presuppose that our readers are acquainted with facts and principles con- nected with the theme,' which can not form a part of the body of tlie discourse. Without this preliminary knowledge our statements, explanations, and arguments will be imperfectly understood. If then the development of the theme is to pro- ceed naturally and without inteiTuption, those ideas and truths on which it depends must first be communicated to the reader. If we wish to describe an object, we may begin by giving the class to which it belongs; if we narrate an event, we may recount briefly what preceded; if we wish to establish the truth of a proposition, we may introduce the argument by stating some more general truth involving it or connected with it. Ex. — Hallam in his Introduction to the Literature of Europe, in the 15tli, 16th, and 17th Centuries, thus introduces liis subject: " Although the subject of these volumes does not comprehend the lit- erary liistory of Europe anterior to tin- commeuceuient of tlie fifteenth century ... it appears necessary to prefix such a general retro- spect of the state of knowledge for some preceding ages as will illustrate its subsequent progress." 2. To render the reader disposed to attend to the presenta- tion of the subject. The mind of the reader will, at first, often be occupied viitli other thoughts, and indifferent to the subject, and often will be prejudiced against it. It requires caution and skill to lead him into a new and foreign field of thought. Unless we can gain his attention, and render him favorably disposed, no ex- planations or arguments can produce any impression upon him. 48 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 27 27. We have to consider the rules for the contents of the introduction and for its structure : Contents of the Introduction. — 1. The matter of the in- troduction must be an idea or thought that is closely connected with the theme, and will conduct to it by a short and natural process. It should not be one that belongs to the contents of the theme and has its place properly in the body of the discourse, nor one so general and remote as to require a long process of thought before the theme is reached ; but one that is distinct from the main idea of the discourse, and, at the same time, in close contact with it. It must have a real -connection with the main idea, and lead to it naturally without any appearance of artifice or force. When the connection is fanciful or arbitrary, it neither pre- pares for what -follows nor contributes to the development of the subject, but rather diverts the mind from it. It is a mistake to suppose, that any striking thought may be adapted by the ingenuity of the writer to the pm-poses of an introduc- tion. It must not be too narrow ; it must prepare for the entire discussion and not for some division or head. It follows, that the same introduction can not be equally well suited to a number of discourses. The same general thought may be employed, but the application will give it, in each case, an individual character that makes it appropriate to the one discourse and to no other. 2. The introduction must contain only what is easily under- stood and will be readily admitted. What needs explanation and proof is not suitable. We must proceed from the known and admitted to the unknown and disputed. 3. It must awaken interest and curiosity, and direct the mind to what follows. The principal offenses against this rule are selecting trite reflections and mere truisms, and the oppo- site fault of choosing abstract ideas or what requires subtlety of thought. Concrete ideas, as they appeal more directly to Sec. 28 DISPOSITIOX. 49 the imagination and feelings, are better suited to interest, and wlien circumstances allow, are to be preferred. Structure of the Introduction.— The structure of the in- troduction should correspond to its purpose and subordinate rank. As it does not exist for itself, but only to prepare for what follows, its main idea should be expanded no further than is conducive to this end. An exhaustive, systematic presenta- tion of it would be out of place. The greatest possible con- ciseness and simplicity are required ; an undue expansion of a subordinate part destroys the harmony and proportion of the whole and detracts from the main idea. Its length will, of course, be determined by the nature and extent of the compo- sition ; it is always too long when it contains any thing that is unnecessary. The greatest difficulty in the art of framing an inti'oduction is to secure a natural and easy transition to the body of the discom-se. That is the most perfect out of which the theme seems immediately to grow. When to be prepared. — The introduction is usually the last thing prepared. We can not be sure of selecting an appro- priate introductory idea until the subject has been carefully studied in its various parts and relations. Cicero tells us, and what he says applies to all kinds of composition, — that it was his custom first to plan and digest all the materials of his dis- course, and last of all to consider with ^\ hat he should begin ; giving as his reason, that whenever he endeavored to invent the introduction first, nothing occuiTed to him but what was trifling and commonplace. It is not meant that it should be written last. As a general rule, it is advisable in writing to finish the introduction before proceeding to the body of the discom'se. 28. The Body of the Discourse. — As the theme arises naturally out of the introduction, so the body of the discourse Rliet. 5 50 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 28 is but the expansion of tlie tlieme. It contains the facts, prin- ciples, arguments, etc., tliat are needeil to explain, prove, and enforce the main idea. .It is the office of disposition to select the materials adapted to this part and to form them into a connected \\hole. It is concerned with the discovery and exhibition of the relations of thoughts. As these relations are infinitely various, it is evident that the principles to be laid down nmst be of the most general character. They may be embraced imder two lieads : 1. The two general methods of commimicating thought. 2. liules for the disposition of the body of the discourse. 29. Two methods of communicating thought, — There are two general methods of communicating thought, — tlie analytic and the synthetic. These include all the others; whether we describe, narrate, explain, or prove, we can adopt one or tlie other. It is important that the student of rhetoric should imderstand their nature. The Analytic. — This method is also called the progressive, and sometimes the inductive. It assumes various forms ac- cording to the nature of the subject. We may present first a complex whole, and then resolve it into" its constituent parts or elements, just as the chemist analyzes a mineral. We may state the conclusion first and then inquire its reason, and then the reason of this premise, and continue the process until we have reached a premise that does not require proof. We may state particular facts and observations and ascend fi-om them to general notions or truths, or to definitions. We may gi^'e results, and then investigate the causes, and follow back the chain until we deem it unnecessary to proceed further. In all these we follow the Analytic method, which thus is seen to be the process by which we pass from fiicts to principles, fi-om the particular to the general, fi-om the complex and compound to the simple and elementary. The Synthetic. — The synthetic method is precisely the re- Sec. 29 DISPOSITION. 51 verse. As in the analytic we proceed up the stream to the source, in the synthetic we descend the stream from the source. It is also called the progi'essive, sometimes, the deductive method. We may bring together the elements and cause them to combine into a whole, as the chemist causes certain physical elements to unite and fonn a compound substance. In geometry, for example, we begin with points, lines, and angles, and proceed to the complex figures. We may lay down a general principle and then deduce from it its consequences. We may give first a general notion and then proceed to the species contained under it and continue, if need be, until we reach the individual; or we may state the cause and then follow out its effects. Thus in synthesis we proceed from the elementary to the complex, from principles to facts, from cause to eft'ect, etc. Ex. — The following example, taken from Hoffman, exhibits the differ- ent methods. Tlie theme being, " What were the effects of the Pelopon- nesian war upon Athens?" We snppose tliat the writer lias by medita- tion and reading gathered as the main ideas the folUiwing : 1. Athens was obliged to change her constitution ; 2. The long walls were broken down ; 3. Her navy was reduced ; 4. She lost her allies ; .'5. Her popula- tion was dimiuislied ; 6. Her commerce was destroyed; 7. The morals of the people were coiTupted ; 8. She became dependent on Sparta. By comparing these separate propositions, he finds that he can classify them ; some of the effects refer to the internal condition of Athens, some to her foreign relations ; some to her material, others to her political, and others to her moral condition. By this process of comparing and combin- ing he ascends from particular to more general statements, until he reaches at length the general proposition, that all the effects were inju- rious. The process has been one of analytic thinking. If now the writer wishes to conduct his readers through a process similar to that by which he reached his conclusion, he will arrange his materials in such an order as follows : Tlie Peloponnesian War, a. Destroyed the commerce of Athens, h. Diminished her population, 1. And so weakened her material power. 52 MATTER OF A DISCOUBSE. Sec. 29 a. Corrupted the morals of her inhabitants, h. Overthrew her constitution, 2. And BO enfeebled her moral power. I. Hence the effects of the war on the internal condition of Athens were injurious. a. It diminished her nary, b. Destroyed her ports, 1. And so exposed her to assaults from all her enemies. u. Deprived Athens of her allies, b. Made her dependent upon Sparta, 2. And so degi'aded her from the leadership. II. Hence the effects of the war on the external relations of Athens were injurious. Consequently, the results of the war to Athens were only injurious. Here the method is rigidly Analytic. If the writer wishes to present his subject according to the Synthetic method, his mode of proceeding will be just the reverse. What formed the conclusion of the preceding process will now form the starting-point, and the disposition will be as follows : Theme. — The effects of the Peloponnesian war on Athens were all injurious ; for it, ' I. Enfeebled her internally : 1. In her material power. a. As to her wealth — destroying her commerce. b. As to her population — diminishing it. 2. In her moral power. M. By the demoralization of the people. b. By the change of her constitution. II. Enfeebled her in her foreign relations. 1. Destroyed her means of defense. «. By diminishing her navy. b. By the destruction of the long walls. 2. Deprived her of her place as leader. Sec. 30 DISPOSITION. 53 a. By the loss of licr allies. J. By her dependence on Sparta. 30. Comparative advantages of the two methods Both methods have their advantages and disadvantages. Which to prefer will be detemiined by our special object in writing. The analytic is the longer process and is liable to become tedious. It has the advantage of presenting truths in the order in which they are discovered. The reader begins with actual facts, and understands each step as he advances. He obtains a greater feeling of certainty, while at the same time his mind is stimulated to greater activity. There is also always intellectual pleasure in ascending from the particular to the general, and something of the pleasure of discoveiy when the final result is reached. It is speciiilly suitable for introducing a science, as it begins with what is known, ex- hibits its general drift, and enables the student to understand the details. It is also the natural method for such works as propose to investigate notions and their relations, to resolve difficulties, to remove doubts and answer objections. The synthetic method has the disadvantage of beginning with the abstract and general ; the reader can not see the use of the elements that are given to him, and, not knowing their relation to the whole of which they are parts, can not fully comprehend them. It has the advantage of brevity, and is the mode best adapted to presenting knowledge in a systematic form so as to exhibit the relations of the separate facts and principles to each other and to the entii'e system. It is hence frequently called the scientific, systematic, or dogmatic method. It is specially suited to such works as aim to com- municate knowledge in a compendious form that can be re- tained in the memory. It is also the natural method of history, and the one usually employed in oratory, Eejiark. — The two methods may be united, and in works of any size generally are. The analytic method may be adopted for the general dis- cussion, and the synthetic for the treatment of the parts ; or the reverse. This may be easily exemplified by using the scheme given in section 29. 54 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 31 31. General rules for the disposition of the Body of the Discourse The following general rules are to be observed in the disposition of the body of tlu; discourse, whatevei' be the mode of presentation adopted : 1. It should omit nothing essential and contain notliing un- essential ; nothing merely connected with the theiiK; und not derived from it. For example, if the tlieme is, " Warnings against false conscientiousness," and the writer should treat first, of the nature of the eiTor; secondly, of its signs and effects; and, thirdly, of the reasons why it should be avoided, the division would violate this rule. The first and second heads are not contained in the theme which proposes only warnings against the en'or. So the third head is the theme itself. The division would have been a proper one, if tlie theme had been, " False conscientiousness ; " as it would have given first, its nature; secondly, its characteristics; thirdly, its effects. 2. That is the best disposition which (provided the virtue of adaptation is not neglected) exhibits the theme from different points of view, and contains those main thoughts the de\(nop- ment of which affords the greatest variety of new and impor- tant truths. There is a gi'cat difference among writers in this respect ; some gi\-e only superficial views, while others bring out all the riches of their subjects. 3. The disposition must he. natural, — prescribed by the na- ture of the theme not imposed from without. Tliis is reijuired by the nature of prose. We can not enlighten, convince, or persuade when the connection between the thoughts is not recognized as real and necessary. This rule is ^•iolatl■d by adopting one unifonn mode of arrangeirumt without regard to the matter; and also by a feilse symmetry which divid(;s and combines arbitrarily, and seeks uniformity in the number and length of the divisions and subdivisions when the natural de\elopment of the subject does not require it. 4. It must be easily comiirehcnded and remembered. A too great multiplication of divisions and subdivisions should be avoided, as it burdens the memory and prevents the mind Sec. 32 DISPOSITION. 55 from obtaininj,' a cloar view of the wliolc. Tlie various parts should he disthict; om; sliouhl not contain what belongs to anotiier; and tiie limits and prouiinencc given to each should be deternuned by its relative importance. Each part should contribute to the clearn(,'ss,' completeness, certainty, and force of the other, each being in the place prepared for it by what preceded, and where it will best prepare for what follows. 32. The Conclusion. — The conclusion is that part of the discourse in which the development of the, theme is brought to its suitable close, and a distinct impression of it as a whole is given to the reader. An essential part. — Like the introduction, it is more prom- inent in some classes of compositions tliau in others. Its iuiportance is greater and it demands a more elaborate prepa- ration in tlie (^xttiuded discussion of complicated subjects and in oratorical discourse. But it is an essential part of e^'ery discourse. Without it the good impression mad(! by the ])roi)er disposi- tion of the proceeding parts is marred and many of its results arc lost. There will be an abruptness, want of completeness, and want of symmetry, ^hicli will not only otFeud th(e taste but also render the discourse loss ellective. It is the writier's aim to cause the reader to appropriiit(e his entire thought and to feel the forces of its completer presenta- tion. Without the conclusion this can not be eflected. A number of thoughts have been crowded on the reader's mind, to (each of which in succession he has given his attention. Should the discussion terminate suddenly he is left with his mind occupied with sonu; subordinate part, some subdivision, and it can not be expected, that, without aid from the writer, he will riecall the several parts and gain a vivid impression of them in their unity or practical bearings. It is the writ<'r's duty to ])ut him in a position to do this; to enabhe him to gather up the results ; to see what has been gone over, what has been gained, and how it has been gained; and thus to (56 MATTEE OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 32 view the theme in the light thrown upon it by the previous discussion. This is the office of the conclusion. Qualities of. — What is necessary to its perfection may be inferred from what has been said of its end. * 1. It should accord with the nature of the subject, the aim of the discom-se, and the manner of presentation. It should not be incongruous either in matter or form. 2. Its main thought should be one that concentrates in itself the force of all that precedes, or at least brings the view pre- sented, the proposition explained or proved, the resolution to be adopted, before the mind with all the vividness and force that can be derived from the entii'e discussion. In most cases, a condensed summary of what has been gained, or an exhibi- tion of the unity of the parts, forms the most appropriate con- clusion. 3. All abruptness or appearance of artifice in passing from the body of the discourse to the conclusion ought to be avoided. 33. Transitions. — The work of disposition is not finished imtil suitable transitions have been formed. By transition, in its widest sense, is meant the passage from one part of a discourse to another, it may be from one organic part to the following, or from one division or subdivis- ion to another. In some cases the connection between the thoughts is so close and necessary that the. following gi-ows immediately out of the one that precedes it, and no intermediate idea is needed to show their relation. But this seldom occurs, — never in extended discussions of complicated subjects, or long naiTa- tives, or where there are digressions and amplifications. There exists, it is true, a real and necessary connection between all the parts ; this is implied in the work of disposition, but it is not always easy to make this connection apparent. Usually, after hax'mg prepared his plan, the writer finds that the con- nection between the main thoughts is remote ; that thoy are Sec. 33 DISPOSITION. 57 separated by intervals, so that if left in this fomi the discoui-sc would have a fragmentary character, and could not be readily understood or remembered. In order to give continuity to the discom-se some thoughts must be discovered which will bind the parts together and unite them into one coherent whole. These intermediate ideas are called transitions, in the narrow sense of the term. They have been compared to the joints of the body. Vinet calls them " a land of punctuation on a large scale ; " as punctua- tion serves to mark the intervals and the relations of thoughts, so transitions serve the double pm-pose of distinguishing and uniting. The most important transitions are that from the introduc- tion to the body of the discom-se, and that from the body to the conclusion. The former is the more diflficult, and that in which most failm-es occur. Essential qualities of. — ^A real connection between the parts to be united is assumed. An attempt to show a connec- tion where none exists wDl but make the incoherence more glaring. 1. The transition must contain a real thought. A word caught up in passing from one division or paragraph to an- other, or the declaration that we now proceed to the next part or division is not a transition. It often consists in repeating what was said, or in a concession or qualification. 2. This thought should be one connected with the two which it is intended to unite. It must look to ^\■hat precedes it and what follows. Its points of contact with both should be so plain that they can be instantly discovered. Wliatever is abstruse, subtle, or far-fetched would obscm-e the connection instead of making it apparent. 3. When the reader can easily supply the connecting thought it should be omitted. E\en abruptness is better than empty connnonplaces, which only burden the discourse and enfeeble the reader's attention. L The thought nnist not be expanded further than is neces- 58 MATTEE OF A DISCOUESE. Sec. 33 saiy to accomplish the si)ecific purpose for which it is used. When it passes beyond this it becomes a digression, and in- stead of promoting, interrupts the continuity of the discourse. How to be found. — l^o rules can teach the art of finding suitable transitions. IMuch depends on the tact of the writer. The great source of the diificulty found by beginners in this part of the work of composition is the want of a mastery of their subject. When meditation has been prolonged and faith- ful, and the plan properly made, the connecting links will soon be found. CHAPTER IV. AMPLIFICATION. 3i. Nature of Amplification. — By the preceding processes of inyention and disposition the main ideas of the discourse have been selected and arranged in due order; the course of thought in its beginning, middle, and end has been clearly marked out. But only a very general outline has been ob- tained ; the plan is but a meager summary of the points to be considered. This outline is now to be filled up. The writer must take up each of the main ideas laid down in a summary form in his plan, and subject it to the same processes as those to which he has subjected the original leading idea of the dis- course. He nmst meditate upon it and develop it ; he must gather the subordinate ideas, i. e., definitions, descriptions, explications, arguments, comparisons, etc., that are necessary to exhibit its full meaning and relative importance. By this means the meager abstract is converted into a full, vivid exhi- bition of the subject. This process is called amplification. It must not, as is too frequently the case, be confounded with exaggeration, idle repetition, or the heaping up of insignificant circumstances. It may be defined, the process of gathering Sec. 34 AMPLIFICATION. 59 and aiTanging such subordinate ideas involved in or connected with the main ideas given in the plan, as are necessary to present the subject with the greatest possible clearness, force, and completeness. Its importance. — It is necessary in worlis of all kinds. 1. Abstract, summary statements are not intelligible to most persons,, and can never affect the feelings and will. We demand, even in scientific treatises, that the writer give both logical clearness to his ideas by definitions and divisions, and aesthetic clearness by exhibiting the abstract in concrete fonns by means of examples, facts, figures, etc. Ex. — We may say, in brief abstract form, the Divine Being is omni- present and omniscient. The theologian gives logical clearness to the. thouglit by enumerating the notions involved in omnipresence and omnis- cience ; as, presence in all space, knowledge of all things possible and actual, of objects animate and inanimate, thoughts, desires, etc. But the Psalmist exhibits the same thought with sesthetic clearness, in a concrete form, appealing directly to the imagination and the feelings : " Whither shall I go from thy spirit t or whither shall I flee from thy presence 1 If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there ; if 1 make my bed in hell, behold thou art there. If I take the wings of the nlorning and dwell in the utter- most parts of the sea ; even there shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand defend me. If I say surely the darkness shall cover me, even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from tliee ; but the night shineth as the day ; the darkness and the light are both alike to thee." 2. The mind must dwell for some time upon a thought before it can receive a full and distinct impression of it. If we have an important truth to communicate, we can not content ourselves with a bare enunciation of it; we must fix the reader's attention upon it, and give him time to comprehend it and feel its truth. Reii.^^rk. — The importance of amplification as a means of detaining the mind upon a subject, and so allowing tlie reader to yield to its influ- ence, is very well stated by Whateley : " It is reniaiked by anatomists that the nutritive quality is not the only requisite in food ; that a certain degree of distention of the stomach is required to enable it to act with its l>0 MATTER OF A DISCOUESE. Sec. 34 full powers ; and that it is for this reason hay or straw must be given to horses, as well as corn, in order to supply the necessary bulk. Sometliing analogous to this takes place with respect to the generality of minds, which are incapable of thoroughly digesting and assimilating what is pre- sented to them, however clearly, in a very small compass. Many a one is capable of deriving that instruction from a moderate sized volume which he could not receive from a very small pamphlet, even more perspicuously written, and containing every thing that is to the puii)ose. It is neces- sary that the attention be detained for a certain time on the subject ; and persons of unphilosophical mind, though they can attend to what they read or hear, are unapt to dwell upon it in the way of subsequent medi- tation." 35. Means of Amplification. — It is impossible to give a list of all the means of amplification. It would include all the ways by which logical clearness is imparted to a thought, and by which a thought can be represented vividly to the imagina- tion. A few of the more important are here given, which will serve to exhibit still further the nature and importance of the process. Enumeration. — This consists in decomposing or analyzing the thought, and, instead of a bare statement, giving the details. K it is a notion, its qualities or parts are enumerated. We may define it, or if a logical definition does not answer the purpose, we may give a fuller enumeration of its qualities ; we may resolve it into the classes contained under it ; if a nan-a- tion or description, we may specify the particulars. Ex. — 1. Freedom may be defined, " Exemption from the power and control of others." But such an abstract and general statement will not suit the purposes of the orator ; it is thus amplified by Fox in one of his speeches : " Freedom consists in the safe and sacred possession of a man's property, governed by laws defined and certain ; with many per- sonal privileges, — natural, civil, and religious, — which he can not surren- der without ruin to himself, and of which to be deprived by any other power is despotism." 2. Cicero, instead of simply asserting that Pompey was a great general, amplifies tlie notion by enumerating the qualities that constitute a gen- eral : " Those are not the only virtues of a general which are commonly thought so. It is not courage alone which forms a great leader, but Sec. 35 AMPLIFICATION. 61 industry in business, intrepidity in dangers, vigor in acting, prudence In concerting, promptness in executing. All which characters appear with greater luster iu him than in all the other generals we ever saw or heard of." 3. The liistoriau might briefly state the fact, that the fleet of William, after being for a short-time iu great danger, reached the harbor of Torbay in safety. But notice how Macaulay amplifies this by the enumeration of particulars: "The mornijig of the fifth of November was hazy. The pilot of the Brill could not discern the sea-marks, and carried the fleet too far to the west. The danger was great. To return in the face of the wind was impossible. Plymouth was the next port. But at Plymouth a garri- son had been posted under the command of the Earl of Bath. The land- ing might be opposed, and a check might produce serious consequences. There could be little doubt, moreover, that by this time the royal fleet had got out of the Thames, and was hastening full sail down the river. Russell saw the whole extent of the peril, and exclaimed to Burnet, ' You may go to your prayers, doctor. All is over.' At that moment the wind changed, a soft breeze sprang up from the south, the mist dispersed, tlie sun shone forth, and, under the mild light of an autumnal noon, the fleet turned back, passed round the lofty cape of Berry Head, and rode safe into the harbor of Torbay." A- general truth is amplified by enumerating the instances, or particular truths, on \\'hich it is founded. Ex. — Addison thus amplifies the general truth, that all nature is full of life : " Every part of matter is peopled, every gi'eeu leaf swarms with inhabitants. There is scarce a single humor in the body of a man, or of any other animal, in which our glasses do not discover myriads of living creatures. The surface of animals is also covered with othi.'r animals, which are in the same manner the basis of other animals, that live upon it. Nay, we find in the most solid bodies, as in marble itself, innumerable cells and cavities, that are crowded with such imperceptible inhabitants as are too little for the naked eye to discover. On the other hand, if we look into the more bulky parts of nature, we see the seas, lakes, rivers, teeming with numberless kinds of living creatures. A\'e find every mount- ain and marsh, wilderness and wood, plentifully stocked with birds and beasts ; and every part of matter affording proper necessaries and con- veniences for the livelihood of multitudes which inhabit it." Examples. — In some cases, one or two apposite examples or striking circumstances are more effective than a fiiU enumera- tion of particulars. 62 MATTER OF A DISCOURSE. Sec. 35 Causes and Effects. — In many subjects a very important means of amplification is that of giving the causes, or condi- tions on -whicli the fact depends, and its effects. Ex. — Thus .Jeremy Taylor, in showing the evil nature of anger, dwells largely upon its sources and consequences. " It makes a man's body inonstrous, deformed, contemptible; the voice liorrid; the eyes cruel; the face pale or fiery ; the gait iierce ; the speech clamorous and loud. It is neither manly uor ingenuous. It proceeds from softness of spirit and .pusillanimity. ... It is troublesome, not only to those that suffer it, but to them that behold it. . . . It turns friendship into hatred, it makes a man lose himself, and his reason, and Ills argument in disputation. It turns the desire of knowledge into an itch of wrangling," etc. Comparison. — The object may be compared with others as to its qualities, causes, effects, etc. The comparison may ex- hibit either the resemblances between the objects or the points of difference. This is one of the most important means both of rendering an object more distinct and of affecting the feel- ings and passions. Ex. — Similes, parables, and fables are forms of this mode of amplifica- tion. These will be considered in Part II. As an example of formal comparison is given the following extract from Johnson's comparison of Dryden and Pope, in whicli differences rather than resemblances are dwelt upon : " Poetry was not the sole praise of either, for both excelled likewise in prose ; but Pope did not borrow from his predecessor. The style of Dryden is capricious and varied ; that of Pope is cautious and uniform. Dryden observes the motions of his own mind ; Pope con- strains his mind to his own rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes veliement and rapid ; Pope is always smootji, uniform, and gentle. Dry- den's page is a natural field rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation ; Pope's is a level lawn, shaved by the scythe and leveled by the roller." These methods may be combined. — The natui-e of the thought and the end in view will determine what means of amplification are most suitable. It is seldom that a ^mter is j'estricted to any one of them. In most cases the different modes are combined. An example of this mixed form of amplification is St. Paul's delineation of Christian chaiity Sec. 36 AMPLIFICATION. 63 (I. Cor., xiii). This amplification consists chiefly of compari- son, enumeration, and statement of the effects. Accessory ideas. — Another means of amplification is that of weaving into the development of the main idea related thoughts drawn from without and not contained in the subject. In meditating upon any subject we fi-equently establish a rela- tion between it and other objects, ^\•hich, though entkely differ- ent, have nevertheless some points of contact with it. "We thus gather fi'om om- reading and experience, facts, testimo- nies, striking sayings, or general principles of other sciences which we incorporate into the discourse. They may be given with various degrees of fullness. ' Sometimes only a light pass- ing reference is made; it is then called an allusion: this is often put in a parenthesis. On other occasions the accessory idea may be dwelt upon ; then it becomes a digression or ejji- sode. To this mode of amplification belong the obseiTations and reflections which are used so frequently in narration and description. These accessory ideas, when properly chosen and cautiously used, are of great service. They place the subject in different lights and bring out different sides of it. And while the writer keeps steadily in view the main idea, he is enabled to point out the relations of the subject to other objects and so present it more vividly, give an increased sense of its impor- tance, and stimulate the reader's powers. 36. Rules of Amplification. — The general principle that underlies the rules of amplification is the fundamental one of literary composition; viz., that every discourse is an organic whole ; that it is the necessary result of the parts, and that the parts have no significance except in their relation to the whole. The entire discom-se must be composed of inwardly related and reciprocally dependent thoughts ; nothing is admissible that does not contribute to the completeness and harmony of the whole. The rules of amplification are but special applications of this general principle. 64 MATTEK OF A DISCOUESE. Sec. 36 1. The matter employed in amplification is never, nor in any degree, to be treated as independent; but always as subor- dinate to the end for which it is introduced; viz., to impart clearness, distinctness, and vividness to the main thought. • Judgment is to be exercised in deciding what thoughts require amplification and what do not. A greater degree of expansion is necessary in oral than in written discourse ; and in popular works than in purely scientific. A brief exposition may be sufficient for those who have some acquaintance with the subject, while in addressing those of less intelligence a gi-eater fullness of details is necessary. It is always a most serious fault to dwell on what is unimportant, trivial, or what can be supplied by the reader ; "it indicates a want of the power of just discrimination on the part of the writer. A careful selection is to be made from the various thoughts suggested ; only such are to be used as can be woven into the discourse and aid in the attainment of the end in view. This applies to all the modes of amplification : but caution is spe- cially necessary in introducing accessory ideas. Parentheses, digressions, and episodes are to be sparingly used, and ought to be incorporated into the development of the thought. Writers are often led astray by introducing quotations; the thought may be important and striking, but not appropriate, and so is supei-fluous and diverts the mind from the main point. There is also gi'eat danger in embodying in the dis- course detached passages that have been written without refer- ence to the treatment of the subject as a whole. They do not harmonize with the rest of the discourse, and have the appear- ance of independent discussions. When this rule is disregarded the materials of the composi- tion will be rather placed in juxtaposition than, to use Whate- ley's metaphor, be felted together. Whatever be the beauty of the details themselves, as they do not combine to produce one distinct, total impression, the work must be considered as badly constructed. 2. The details should be in harmony with the general tone of the discourse. The peculiar relation of the writer to the Sec. 36 AMPLIFICATION. 65 subject and to the circumstances necessarily gives a distinctive character to his mode of treatment, whicli should be recog- nized not only in the selection of the main ideas, but also in all the details. The same principle of selection should be em- ployed in choosing the principal and subordinate ideas. To change the principle of selection is as great a .rhetorical fault, as in logic to change the principle of division. Examples of the grosser forms of the violation of this rule are flippant, ludicrous remarks in a serious discourse ; abstract, speculative discussions in an oration, etc. 3. Every particular should be in its right place. There is properly but one place in the discourse for which a given par- ticular is fitted, and in which it can best produce its effects. It is implied in this that it should receive no greater expansion than its relative importance demands. By this means we give to a discourse its distribution of light and shade, bringing into relief what is important, while the paits which serve to support and explain are placed in a less conspicuous station. When the process of amplification is finished, the theme has received its full and harmonious development. The next step is to embody the thoughts in language that will convey them to others. Hhet. 6. PAET II. STYLE. CHAPTER I. THE QUALITIES OF PROSE STYLE. 37. The principles, according to which the materials already selected and arranged are expressed in language suited to their nature and the end to be achieved, are contained in the doctrine of Style, which forms the second part of Ehetoric. Nature and conditions of Style Style is the peculiar manner of expressing thought that pervades an entire produc- tion. It depends partly on the nature and importance of the subject, but chiefly on the character and disposition of the writer. It has been called the physiognomy of the mind, as it reveals how one thinks as well as what one thinks. When the thoughts are trite, obscure, or badly arranged, clear and effective expression is impossible. While vigorous thought is an indispensable condition of a good style, it is not the only one. All great writers have been great thinkers, but the history of literature affords many in- stances to prove that not all great thinkers are great writers. We must embody what we wish to communicate in the forms offered to us by a particular language, and the thoughts will not avail without skill to use the instrument by which they are conveyed to others. He who wishes to excel in the art of expression must not only acquire habits of correct and compre- hensive thought, but also master the resources of his native (fifi) Sec. 37 QUALITIES OF PROSE STYLE. 07 tongue. He can not content himself with the few hundred trite, loosely applied words and phrases that suffice for the pur- poses of ordinary business, but must endeavor to gain an ample vocabulary of expressive, accurately discriminated terms, and readiness in combining them according to the laws of the lan- guage. To give to our thoughts their adequate expression is not an easy task; it demands care and perseverance. The greatest masters of style have composed slowly and laboriously. In the first place, it involves many subtle processes of thinking. When we seek fitting words and weave them into sentences and paragraphs, we are applying to the primary elements of the discourse the same processes of analysis and comparison that we had before employed in dealing with large masses of thoughts. The most delicate and exact discrimination is nec- essary to impart to them the requisite clearness and distinct- ness. Secondly, the imperfection of language makes the ex- pression of thought difficult. It suggests, does not convey, thought. The most perfect language contains but a compara- tively few symbols for the infinite variety of conceptions to be expressed. And of these no man has ever mastered all. Ac- cording to the estimate of Marsh, there occur in all the works of Shakespeare not more than fifteen thousand words; in the poems of Milton, not above eight thousand; few writers or speakers use as many as ten thousand words ; ordinary persons of average intelligence use not more than three or four thou- sand. It is by means of these few symbols that a writer con- veys new, complex, and subtle thoughts with all their parts in their exact relation to each other. Its importance. — It ought not to be necessary to insist upon the importance of attention to style. . All know that the favor- able reception of a truth is owing, not wholly to its importance, but in a great measure to the manner in which it is presented. The same facts and arguments which, when stated by one, gain the understanding and affections, will, as exhibited by another, produce weariness and disgust. The duty is enforced by the 68 STYLE. Sec. 37 precepts and example of eminent writers, ^o work takes a permanent place in literature that is not distinguished for the perfection of its style as well as the solidity of its thought. Disregard of Style among English prose writers. — ^An inadequate appreciation of style, or an impatience of the re- straints of gi-ammar and criticism, seems to be a characteristic of the English race. It has its origin partly in the practical disposition which prefers the matter to the form, but in a larger measure in that erroneous yiew of style (founded upon a false theory of language) which regards it as something distinct from and external to the thought: an en-or perpetuated by many of the metaphors we use ; as, when we call language the close fitting dress of thought. It should be borne in mind, that thought and language are reciprocally dependent: one can not exist without the other. We" do not by language cover and adorn our ideas, but reveal them; we embody them in their material signs, so that they can be recognized in their real nature and importance, and be appropriated by others. There are also at present special influences operating upon literature that strengthen the habit of disregard of the art of composition. The competition among writers by profession, the number of whom increases with the diffusion of reading, allows no time for the patient labor so indispensable to stylistic excellence. Those who, write to meet the demands of a rest- less, fickle public must seize the theme of the horn- before the popular interest in it subsides, and are thus constrained to hasty composition, the effects of which are injurious in every respect. The result is, that while in the present century there are a few gi'eat prose writers not surpassed by the greatest of any former period of English literature — such as Macaulay, Landor, De Quincey, Ifewman — the mass of our prose is char- acterized by slovenliness, inaccuracy, exaggeration, and feeble- ness. 38. Fundamental qualities of Prose style. — The funda- mental qualities of prose style are those which subserve ,the Sec. 39 QUALITIES OF PROSE STYLE. 69 ends of prose; these ends, as has been ah-eaidy shown, are, instruction, conviction, and persuasion. Ehetoricians enumer- ate many qualities ; they may be reduced to three — propriet}", perspicuity, and vivacity. Propriety. — Propriety includes two requisites. 1. The language should be a just and complete expression of the thought; not conveying more than the writer's meaning, nor less ; not suggesting something different from what he in- tends, but giving the exact conception clearly discriminated from all related notions and with its essential marks. This conformity of the expression to the thought is a virtue difficult (especially, where the notions to be conveyed are abstract and elementary), but not impossible to acquire. Wherever met with, it affords pure and intense intellectual pleasure, as the want of it always occasions perplexity and dissatisfaction. 2. The style should be appropriate to the nature, importance, and dignity of the subject. This rale is very generally vio- lated. A writer offends against truth and justness, on the one hand, when in treating of ordinary objects and occuiTences, he adopts a technical, artificial diction instead of a familiar, idio- matic one, or employs the language of emotion and passion in addressing the understanding; on the other hand, when he presents serious and elevated subjects in such a manner as to awaken low and ludicrous associations. Both extremes are the indications of a lack of judgment, of taste, and of moral sensibility. Good sense and genuine culture reveal themselves in a style that shuns pedantry, affectation, bombast, and vul- garity; that uses plain words for plain thoughts, and rejects what is extravagant or offensive to deUcacy of feeling. 39. Perspicuity.— It should be easily understood by those to whom it is addressed. Perspicuity is a relative quality. Many subjects, in order to be understood, require much pre- vious information and habits of reflection, and can not by the most skillful use of language be made intelligible to those who are wanting in the requisite capacity and attainments. A 70 STYLE. Sec. 39 writer is not expected to render his meaning obvious to all. The degree of perspicuity of which the subject is susceptible and the character of the readers should be taken into considera- tion. The law of clearness demands that he do not add to the intrinsic diiRculty of the subject by his mode of presenting it, but economize the attention of the reader, by concentrating it upon the subject and allowing none to be lost in overcoming difficulties of expression. The writer who compels liis readers to pause at words, to reread sentences, and painfully collect liis meaning, should not be disappointed when he finds that his thoughts, although new and important, produce no impression. The power of attention is limited ; when it is divided among a number of objects, no distinct and vivid image of any one is obtained ; whatever is expended on tlie language is withdrawn from the tliought, and weakens its force. Spencer's statement of the law of economy of attention. — This law of economizing attention is made by Herbert Spencer the one general principle from wliich all the rules of composi- tion result. He says : " On seeking for some clue to the law underlying these current maxims, we may see shadowed forth in many of them the importance of economizing the reader's or hearer's attention, ^o so present ideas that they may be ap- prehended with the least possible mental effort, is the deside- ratum towards which most of the rules above quoted point, i When we condemn writing that is wordy, or confused, or in- tricate ; when we praise this style as easy, and blame that as fatiguing, we consciously or unconsciously assume this deside- ratum as our standard of judgment. Regarding 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 aiTanged its parts the gi-cater 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 power avail- able. To recognize and interpret the symbols presented to him, requires. part of this power; to arrange and combine the Sec. 40 QUALITIES OF PROSE STYLE. 71 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. . . . Hence, caiTying out the metaphor that language is the vehicle of thought, there seems reason to think that in all cases tlie Motion and inertia of the vehicle deduct from its efficiency ; and thajt in composition the chief, if not the sole thing to be done, is, to reduce this Mction and inertia to the smallest possible amount. Let us then inquire whether economy of the recipient's attention is not the secret of effect, alike in the right choice and collocation of words, in the best an-angement of clauses in a sentence, in the proper order of its principal and subordinate propositions, in the judicious use of simile, metaphor, and other figures of speech, and even in the rhythmical sequence of syllables." Essays, Moral, Po- litical, and Esthetic, pp. 11, 12. 40. Vivacity. — The law of economizing attention is not en- titled to the rank of the supreme law of composition ; we must add to it another; viz., that the thoughts must be so presented as to call into vigorous energy the mental powers of the reader. Pain is the result of a want of a proper exertion of our faculties as well as of stimulating them beyond their natural limits. By forgetting this we may, in the endeavor to be perspicuous, become feeble, dull, heavy. It is necessary then to preserve ■the medium between the extremes of undue depression and over-exertion of the activities of the reader. This quality is called vivacity ; it may be described as such a presentation of thoughts as determines the reader to reproduce them instead of merely passively receiving them. Beauty. — The combination of these qualities constitutes beauty of style ; which is not to be considered, as is generally done, a separate quality. This false notion has arisen from regarding style as something independent of the thought, and 72 STYLE. Sec. 40 has led many writers astray. A style is beautiful so far as — and only so far as — it is the adequate expression of worthy thoughts. There is no means of securing it, except by aiming at the highest possible degree of propriety, perspicuity, and vivacity. 41. The English language as to its power of expres- sion. — Languages differ in their power of expression. Each of the great languages of Qivilization has its peculiar advan- tages and difficulties. The English may be surpassed by some others in separate traits, but in the combination of the requi- sites of adequate expression it yields to none. It is a composite tongue ; it has not gi'own up fi-om a few germs by the processes of derivation and composition, but is the result of the conflicts and mingling of different languages. While its groundwork is Anglo-Saxon, the building is com- posed of materials from many quarters. Its two chief elements are Anglo-Saxon and Latin, which are so united as to give almost a double language. The English language has suffered in the revolutions through which it has passed. It has lost most of its original inflections, and with them the liberty of position of words in the sentence ; it has lost also to a great extent the power of composition and derivation. The greatest loss is that of the primitive meaning and suggestiveness of its words. The language is crowded with barren, arbitrary symbols, which do not suggest the idea's with vivacity, and are especially liable to be misunderstood and misapplied. But its gains far exceed its losses. It possesses a copious vocabulary for all kinds of subjects and compositions. Its liter- ary diction was founded by Chaucer; its religious diction, at the same period, by Wydiffe; its philosophical dialect was perfected in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; and all have been enriched and invigorated by the great national con- troversies in religion and politics. It has also the means of supplying its deficiencies by appropriating from foreign sources, recalling words that have fallen into disuse, and drawing from Sec. 42 QUALITIES OF PEOSE STYLE. 73 provincial dialects. It affords the means of rarjing the stjie ; the writer may choose Latin words or Anglo-Saxon, or may combine them in different proportions; and according as he selects the words may vary the structm-e of sentences, making them more periodic when the Latin element, more elliptical when the Saxon element predominates. It is surpassed by no language in its power of clear and precise expression ; the number of duplicate words which it possesses enables it to mark the delicate shades of difference between ideas. At the same time, it can convey them with brevity and force, xv^ot- withstanding the fi'equent accusation made against it of ex- treme harshness, in the hands of gieat masters it is susceptible of a high degi'ee of harmony and melody. Remark. — Gvimm speaks thus of it : " None of the modevn languages has through tlie very hiss and decay of all phonetic laws, and tlirongli the dropping of nearly all infleetii ns, acquired greater force and vigcjr than the English ; and from the fullness of those vague and indefinite sounds which may be learned but can never be taught, it has derived a power of expression such as has never been at the command of any human tongue. Begotten by a surprising union of the two noblest languages of Europe, — the one Teutonic, the other Romanic,— it received that wonderfully happy temper and thorough breeding, where the Teutonic supplied the material strength, the Romanic the suppleness and tleedom of expression. Nay, the English language which has borne, not as it were by mere chance, the greatest poet of nuidern times, — great in bis very contrast with classical poetry — I speak, of course, of Shakespeare, — this English language may truly be called a world hmgnage, and seems, like England herself, but in a still higher degree, destined to rule over all the corners of the earth. In wealth, wisdom, and strict economy, none of the living languages can vie with it." Marsh says : " In fact, it has so completely adapted itself to the uses and wants of Christian society, as exemplified by the Anglo-Saxon race in the highest forms to which associate life has anywhere attained, that it well deserves to be considered the model speech of modern humanity, nearly achieving in language the realization of that great ideal wliich wise men are every-where seeking to make the fundamentnl law of political organization, the union of freedom, stability, and progress." 42. Topics to be discussed in the doctrine of Style. — The laws for expressing thought with propriety, perspicuity, Rhet. 7 76 STYLE. Sec. 44 among the people for which the vernacular has no other equally suitable designation ; by long use they have lost their foreign appearance, and have accommodated themselves to the native idiom. The naturalization of a word is effected in different ways : (1) By change of accent ; as, pretext', pre'text ; essay', es'- say, etc. (2) By change of spelling ; as, chirurgeon, surgeon ; vehicu- lum, vehicle ; carriere, career ; innocentia, innocence ; per- ruque, periwig, wig. (3) By change of inflection ; for instance, instead of dog- mata, we say dogmas ; instead of epocha, epochs ; and instead of gymnasia, some of our best writers are using the forni gym- nasiums. (4) By change of signification. Foreign words retain at first the sense they bore in the language from which they were taken; but by use the original meaning is lost or greatly changed, and a derivative or secondary signification becomes the leading one; as, contrition, tribulation, considerable, lu- natic. Words that have been naturalized are a portion of the na- tional language, and should be used in their popular form and meaning. It is mere pedantry and a violation of the pmity of the language to attempt to restore them to their primitive form, pronunciation, or signification. 2. Words that retain their original form, and are recognized as foreign, but for which we have not any exact equivalents in English. Many of these are of technical import, designations of rank, of modes of life, and the like ; for instance, terminus, plural termini; phenomenon, phenomena; interregnum, de- sideratum. While in this form they may be looked upon as candidates for admission into the language. In time, they will either become fully naturalized or be supplanted by native terms. Their use is unavoidable, although it is allowed to propose substitutes for them. When employed they should appear in their original form. Sec. 44 THE CHOICE OF WOEDS. 77 There are also many foreign phrases that hare passed from the arts, sciences, and learned professions into popular use; — for instance, bona Jide, verbatim et literatim, lapsus Jinguw, pro tempore, vice versa, etc. Most of these can be dispensed with ; their frequent use is a Tiolation of purity and propriety. 3. Foreign words and phrases that can be replaced by equally expressive and euphonious English words in actual use. These are bart)arisms, and should be unconditionally re- jected. They are superfluous, as they express no thought nor shade of thought which is not expressed altogether as well by cuiTent words ; and since superfluous words are not tolerated in a language, they can be retained only by di'opping the more intelligible and suggestive native words. The result of this process, if long continued, is to render our classic authors anti- quated. They are prohibited because they are unintelligible to the mass of readers. Their introduction leads also to the cor- ruption of the syntax; as words generally bring the foreign construction with them. They are to be rejected on sesthetic grounds ; the confusion of ^^•ords of different languages in the same work is incompatible with simplicity and harmony, which are essential qualities of a literary production. Eemark. — The tendency to introduce aliens to the exclusion of the natives is the result sometimes of igiioranee, sometimes of pedantry, and sometimes of fashion and caprice. Most of the words thus introduced are drawn from the Latin and French languages. The works of many authors of former periods are crowded with Latin and Greek words. The fashion at present is to employ French. The following extracts from a discourse of Culverwell (1652) will illus- trate the style of many theological writers of that period: "For as in the most glorious creature as a creature there is aliqtiid iiihiU ; so in the most contemptible creature as a creature there is aliquid Dei. I (ay) but the atheist he shuts his eyes, and quid cceco cum speculof what should a blind man do with a looking-glassV" and so on throughout the entire discourse. This appears barbarous ; but it is not more so than the profuse em- ployment of French words which is admired by many as fine writing. This species of barbarism is exposed by a writer quoted by Dean Alford : " A class of writers has sprung up who appear to think it their special business to eniucli the language by dragging Into it, without any attempt 76 STYLE. Sec. 44 among the people for which the vernacular has no other equally suitable designation ; by long use they have lost their foreign appearance, and have accommodated themselves to the native idiom. The naturalization of a word is eifected in different ways : (1) By change of accent; as, pretext', pre'text; essay', es'- say, etc. (2) By change of spelling ; as, chirurgeon, surgeon ; vehicu- lum, vehicle; carriere, career; innocentia, innocence; per- ruque, periwig, wig. (3) By change of inflection ; for instance, instead of dog- mata, we say dogmas ; instead of epocha, epochs ; and instead of gymnasia, some of our best writers are using the form gym- nasiums. (4) By change of signification. Foreign words retain at first the sense they bore in the language from which they were taken; but by use the original meaning is lost or gi'eatly changed, and a derivative or secondary signification becomes the leading one; as, contrition, tribulation, considerable, lu- natic. Words that have been naturalized are a portion of the na- tional language, and should be used in their popular form and meaning. It is mere pedantry and a violation of the pmity of the language to attempt to restore them to their primitive form, pronunciation, or signification. 2. Words that retain their original forni, and are recognized as foreign, but for which we have not any exact equivalents in English. Many of these are of technical import, designations of rank, of modes of life, and the like ; for instance, terminus, plm-al termini; phenomenon, phenomena; interregnum, de- sideratum. While in this form they may be looked upon as candidates for admission into the language. In time, they will either become fully naturalized or be supplanted by native terms. Their use is unavoidable, although it is allowed to propose substitutes for them. When employed they should appear in their original form. Sec. 44 THE CHOICE OF WOEBS. 77 There are also many foreign phrases that have passed from the arts, sciences, and learned professions into popular use ; — for instance, bona fide, rerbatim et literatim, lapsus linguw, pro tempore, vice versa, etc. Most of these can be dispensed with ; tlieir frequent use is a violation of purity and propriety. 3. Foreign words and phrases that can be replaced by equally expressive and euphonious English words in actual use. These are barbarisms, and should be unconditionally re- jected. They are superfluous, as they express no thought nor shade of thought which is not expressed altogether as well by cuiTent words ; and since superfluous words are not tolerated in a language, they can be retained only by dropping the more intelligible and suggestive native words. The result of this process, if long continued, is to render our classic authors anti- quated. They are prohibited because they are unintelligible to the mass of readers. Their introduction leads also to the cor- ruption of the syntax; as words generally bring the foreign construction with them. They are to be rejected on aesthetic grounds ; the confusion of words of different languages in the same work is incompatible with simplicity and harmony, which are essential qualities of a literary production. Remark. — The tendency to intraduce aliens to the exclusion of the natives is the result sometimes of ignorance, sometimes of pedantry, and sometimes of fashion and caprice. Most of the words tlins introduced are drawn from the Latin and French languages. The works of many authors of former periods are crowded with Latin and Greek words. The fashion at present is to employ French. The following extracts from a discourse of Culverwell (1652) will illus- trate the style of many theological writers of that period: "For as in the most glorious creature as a creature there is aliquid iiiliili; so in the most contemptible creature as a creature there is aliquid Dei. I (ay) but the atheist he shuts his eyes, and quid coeco cum specula'/ wliat should a blind man do with a looking-glass?" and so on throughout the entire discourse. This appears barbarous ; but it is not more so than the profuse em- ployment of French words which is admired by many as fine writing. This species of barbarism is exposed by a writer quoted by Dean Alford : •' A class of writers has sprung up who appear to think it their special business to enrich the languoge by dragging into it, without any attempt 78 STYLE. See. 44 at assimilation, contributions from all the tongues of tlie earth. The result is u wretched piece of patchwork, which may have charms in tlie eyes of some people, but which is certainly an abomination in the eyes of the genuine student of language. We need only glance into one of the periodical representatives of fashionable literature, or into a novel of the day, to see how serious this assault upon the purity of the English lan- guage has become. . . . The heroes are always marked by an air distingul; the vile men are sure to be biases. . . . Then there is a bold man to describe. Having acquired the savoir faire, he is never afraid of making a faiix pas, but no matter what kiiid of conversation is started plunges at once hi medlas res." And so on. The Queen's Eng- lish, pj). 266-268. A more dangerous form of barbarism is the adoption of foreign idioms ; as, " The king assisted [was present] at the ceremony." "Louis the Fourteenth had reason [was right] when he said, ' The Pyrenees are removed.' " The use of such idioms perverts the meaning of the English words and changes the fabric of the language. We are threat- ened by this corruption from two quarters. First, the number of translations is continually increasing, most of which retain some of the constructions of the original. Secondly, the many foreigners who make use of the English language introduce their own idioms; although they employ English words they still retain the construction of their native tongTie. From tliis source, many German idioms have gained admission into the popular dialect of portions of this country. Provincialisms. — Provincialisms are words and phrases the use of Avhich is confined to a particular district. They are not a part of the national language ; although readily understood in the region in which they are cuiTent, they are not intelli- gible beyond its limits. The wide extension of the English language will occasion many important local variations fi'om the standard speech ; already in tlie United States, in India, and in Australia such differences appear. Those which are regarded as peculiar to tlie United States are called Americanisms. The difference between American and British English has Sec. 45 THE CHOICE OF WOKDS. 79 been greatly overestimated. The words that are considered Ameiicanisms may be classified as follows: (1) Such as were brought to this country from Great Britain by the colonists and have been retained by their descendants. Bartlett esti- mates that nine-tenths of the colloquialisms of Xew England belong to this class. These words are either such as were provincial at the time of the emigration and still are cmrent in the same counties ; or sucli as were of reputable use, but have since become obsolete in England. (!3) Words that owe their origin to the new objects, modes of life, and institutions of this country. These are either au- thorized words employed in a different sense from that in which they are used in their native country ; or new words, some of wliich are necessary, others useless. (.3) Words that owe their origin to foreign influences. The numerous colonies — Dutch, German, French, Spanish — as also the negroes and Indians, have all introduced coiTuptions into the language, which at first were confined to particular locali- ties, but afterwards became more general. Rr.MARK. — Tlie importance of local and provincial dialects as illustrat- ing our early language and literature is becoming more generally recog- nized, and a juster estimate of their nature is entertained. Our poetic diction lias been enricbed by many additions from tbis source. Prose is allowed less liberty in this respect; but no one nowadays would maintain that the adoption of a provincialism into the literary dialect is absolutely prohibited. 45. Present use. — The language of living men undergoes a constant change. Words become old and disappear, and new ones are introduced. The laws of style require that the viords employed in composition shall be such as are in use. This rule prohibits obsolete words and neologisms. Obsolete words. — Obsolete words are such as were once current, but have disappeared from use. There is no standard by \\hich to decide whether a word has become obsolete. In reference to many there can be no doubt; they are at once pro- 80 STYLE. Sec. 45 nounced to be no longer a part of the current language. But as to others there is no agreement. Campbell would consider as obsolete those words and idioms which have been disused by all good authors for a period longer than the age of man extends to. It is not possible to apply this test ; no one is able to survey the whole field of contempo- rary literature. Again, it is not safe ; the mere passing from actual use does not justify us in considering a word as perma- nently obsolete. Words that have been condemned by the critic as. obsolete or obsolescent often revive and take their place in the cuiTent language. Few of the present day Avill accept the decision, that words which have not been used within the knowledge or remembrance of those now living are no longer a part of our intellectual coin, and can not be' em- ployed without violating the laws of good taste. (The only test is the subjective one. If the word would not natm'ally find a place in prose writings of the present day, or if it appears strange when met with in earlier authors, it may be regarded as obsolete. ) This test can bo applied only by those who have been long familiar ^^ith the best writers. No two would entirely agree in their decisions as to what are and what are not obsolete. No absolute rule can be laid down respecting the recalling of words that have fallen into disuse. Many deserved to be dis- carded ; they were defective in form and logical clearness, and have been replaced by better words, or were banished as coarse, or rejected as marking useless distinctions ; others were worn out by us^j changes in the arts and employments caused the disappearance of whole classes. The language has not suffered by losing them. On the other hand, many valuable words have been lost, not by the progress of the nation in knowledge and refinement, but by its decline. In times when the na- tional spirit had decayed, foreign words were permitted to sup- ])Liiit native ; when the direction of mental activity is changed, and iiiiportant fields of investigation are foreaken, the terms employed in these sciences are left to perish; looseness of thinking, by neglecting the important distinctions indicated by Sec. 45 THE CHOICE OF \VOKDS. 81 words, renders many superfluous, and thus contributes to mak- ing them obsolete. To restore such words to their place will be a benefit to the language. With the quickening of intellectual and moral life, and the resuming of long abandoned studies and pursuits, many of them will be revived. The task of recalling obsolete and obsolescent words is committed mainly to poets ; the philosopher and historian are subjected to greater restric- tions. Neologisms. — New words may be fonned by composition and derivation from native or foreign materials. The privilege is to be used with gi-e.at caution. The tendency at present is to recklessness in coining them ^ a most important part of the work of verbal criticism is to guard against the coiTuption of the language by neologisms. To be entitled to a place in the language a word should comply with the following conditions : 1. It should denote a new and impoi-tant conception that is not adequately expressed by any native or naturalized Arord. A term that brings to distinct consciousness a new comliination of thoughts, or an iniportant distinction, is an addition to the intellectual wealth of a people ; while one that merely disguises an old notion in a new dress, or denotes a low, trivial conceit, or a useless distinction, is a violation of good use; as, author- ess, poetess, conductress, jeopardize, happify, donate. 2. It should be formed according to the analogy of the lan- guage. Anomalous words, — /. c, those violating the general analogy of the language, have a foreign, repulsive aspect. The force of the prefixes and suffixes nmst be carefully ob- served. By themselves they are without meaning, but have jieculiar significance in composition and derivation : some are active, others passive ; some can be used with but one part of speech, others with several. The suifix -able occasions a great deal of perplexity, as may be seen in the discussions on the word reliable : the suffix -he is very improperly employed with all parts of speech ; for example, burglarize, experimentalize, funeralize, etc. i 82 STYLE. Sec. 45 The analogy of the language is often violated by forming hybrids, — i. e., compounds with parts derived from different languages ; one part may be Anglo-Saxon, the other Latin or Greek; or one may be Latin, the other Greek. Such com- pounds are not absolutely prohibited in the English language. The distinction between its different elements is not so broad that each is left entirely to its own laws. The Latin has yielded in many cases to the Anglo-Saxon. Many hybrids have been received as a permanent part of the language and have become familiar to us, and new ones analogous to the old are formed. There are many words in which a native suffix is attached to a Latin root ; as, motion-less, pain-ful, but the analogy of the language does not favor the joining of a Latin suffix to an English root. As a general rule prefixes are of the same lan- guage as the word to \\liich they are added. There are, how- ever, many exceptions, especially in the use of the negative prefix «H-, which is of native origin, but is prefixed to Latin words; as unjust, unidiomatic. The tendency, however, at present is to substitute the Latin in- for tin-, in words of foreign extraction. In the word un-grafe-ful, we find a native prefix and suffix with a Latin root. The word linguistic, which seems to be naturalized in scien- tific nomenclatm'e, is a hybrid compounded of a Latin noun and two Greek suffixes. 3. It should be euphonic. It is not a sufficient reason for rejecting a word otherwise unexceptionable, that it is some- what rough or harsh ; but if it is difficult of utterance it does not serve the purposes of speech, and has no good claim to be adopted. Words that are defective in respect to euphony are reduced by Campbell to the following classes : / (1) When the syllables which immediately follow the ac- cented syllable are so cro\A'ded with consonants as of necessity to retard the pronunciation ; for example, questionless, remem- brancer. Sec. 46 THE CHOICE OF WORDS. 83 (2) When too many syllables follow the accented syllable ; for example, primarily, summarily. (3) When a short or unaccented syllable is repeated or fol- lowed by another short unaccented syllable ycrj much resem- bling. This gives the appearance of stammeiing to the pro- nunciation; for example, holily, sillily. 4. It should be intelligible at once to those for whom it is designed. A word needing a commentary is superfluous. " The t^-ue criterion," says Julius Hare, " of the worth of a new word is its having such a familiar look, and bearing its meaning and the features of its kindred so visible in its face that we hardly know whether it is not an old acquaintance. Then more especially is it likely to be genuine, when its author himself is scarcely conscious of its novelty. At all events, it should not seem to be the fruit of study, but to spring sponta- neously from the inspii'ation of the moment." Guesses at Truth. Our great writers are sparing in the use of new words; they accomplish their purpose by a felicitous selection and arrange- ment of old and familiar words. It is safer for the writer to be somewhat behind than in advance of the language. In respect to both old and new words, the rule given by Quin- tilian should be followed, — to prefer tlie oldest of the new and the ne^vest of the old. Or as it is expressed by Ben Jonson: " We must not be too frequent with the mint — every day coin- ing, nor fetch words fi-om the extreme and utmost ages. AVords borrowed from 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 themselves a kind of gi-ace-like newness. But the eldest of the present and the newest of the past language is best." 46. Moral Dignity. — Both in what is spoken and in the manner in which it is spoken we should be governed by the moral purpose of language. All words or phrases that directly or by association are offensive to moral pm-ity or delicacy of feeling are to be shunned. This inile prohibits : 84 STYLE. Sec. 46 1. Words and phrases that express directly and vividly what is base, vicious, coarse, and disgusting — whatever is low, or becomes low by being spoken of. We can not always avoid mentioning such objects; -when compelled to do so, we should employ etiphemisnis, — that is, general or foreign terms, or circumlocutions which express the same idea but vaguely and less offensively. As a people ad- vances in refinement, its language purifies itself; many words are banished as indecent that were formerly used without offense. We find in om* earlier writers — as Chaucer and Shakespeare — a coarseness of phrase that would not be toler- ated in a writer of the present century. This is to be explained in part by the ruder manners of tbeir times, and in part by the fact that the words had not then the ignoble associations that are now connected with them. Words become degivaded by use; being brought in contact with unworthy persons and themes, they lose their purity and elevation, and sink to the vulgar dialect. These authors are not to be judged by the present standard ; we should wrong them were we to attribute to them the depravity which would be justly attributed td a writer of the present day who should be guilty of like gross- ness. In shunning coarseness the writer must not run into the other extreme of scrupulousness and prudery. The ill-timed and excessive use of euphemisms is the indication of conscious impurity. A corrupt mind can defile the most innocent words. There are many objects which it is a transgression of conven- tional decorum to make the themes of conversation, but it is vulgar affectation in a writer, who finds it necessar}' to refer to them, to hunt for euphemistic expressions instead of using their proper and perfectly harmless names. 2. The wanton misapplication of terms that designate moral qualities. — This pernicious corruption is becoming prevalent in popular, especially in humorous literature. One form of it is the use of words that conceal and palliate vice by representing it as trifling or innocent, thus sub\'erting the dis- Sec. 46 THE CHOICE OF WORDS. 85 tinctions between right and \^Tong, whicli are clearly marked in every cultivated language. Another form is in making use of low, degrading terms when speaking of sacred objects and rela- tions. Another, and the most common form, is that of apply- ing the terms which are set apart to denote what is honorable, noble, and elevated, to vile and contemptible persons and objects. This abuse of language is the sign of the moral deterioration of a community, of the decay of self-respect and of reverence for, and belief in, what is highest and best, and is the most effective means of increasing the evil from which it springs. 3. Vulgarisms, or coiTuptions of language — whether in the form of its words or in their application — that are indications of ignorance and want of culture. They oftend against the structure, clearness, harmony, and dignity of the language, and are suggestive of what is low and mean ; they are, tlier(^- fore, violations of respectable use, and although admitted occa- sionally into conversation and familiar writings, they are ex- cluded fronr serious discourse, whether oral or written. Here belong — (1) Colloquidlisms. — "We tolerate in ordinary couAersation anomalous words which betray capriciousness in their forma- tion; contractions and mutilations, trite and tri\ial expres- sions, and popular ephemeral words, which have no place in literary diction. (2) Slang. — The use of slang is one of the characteristics of our popular prose style. IMany think that they are thereby writing in an easy, familiar manner adapted to the taste and capacity of their readers. Slang consists of words and phrases, which in themselves may be either significant or meaningless, used in an arbitrary and, generally, ludicrous sense. They are often metaphorical and racy, but degi'ade a subject by low and unsuitable associations, and are therefore unfit expressions for serious thoughts. They are not a portion of the permanent language ; they spring up one knows not where, are popular for a short time, and suddenly disappear. Occasionally, how- 86 STYLE. Sec. 46 ever, one is adopted by respectable usage and takes its place among the lawful words. (3) Cant. — By cant is usually understood a vocabulary of words peculiar to, and cliaracteristic of, a particular profession, trade, class, or sect. Its use beyond its proper sphere betrays the influence of occupation and external circumstances, is an obtrusion of the personal and professional, and the manifesta- tion of a contracted, vulgar mind. Properly, cant is a jargon composed of words that have lost their significance, and are used without any distinct meaning attached to them, — which may mean any thing or nothing. Thus, much of the nomen- clature of philosophical and theological systems passes into cant. This form of cant is a violation of propriety rather than of the moral elevation of language. Its source, however, is untruthfulness; those who do not write and speak from their own experience will almost inevitably fall into it. 47. Propriety. — Propriety consists in employing words that express the exact ideas to be conveyed, and that are appropri- ate to the nature and purpose of the discourse. It is opposed to inaccuracy and incongruity. Accuracy. — ^As every word is the representative of a defi- nite notion, we should select those which according to estab- lished usage are the authorized symbols of the thoughts which we wish to express. A writer is deficient in accuracy who chooses words that are significant of different ideas from those he means to suggest. It may seem superfluous to warn against using words that have no affinity in sense to those whose place they occupy, but the fault is a common one. He may also be deficient in accuracy by using terms that, instead of conveying his ideas precisely and completely, contain more or less than he intends. The principal sources of inaccuracy are: 1. The misapplication of words similar in sound, or derived from the same root, but of entirely different meaning; for ex- ample, observance for observation, conscience for consciousness. Sec. 47 THE CHOICE OF WOKDS. 87 predicate for predict, demean for debase, corporeal punishment for corporal punishment, exceptionable for exceptional. 2. The want of exact discrimination in the use of synony- mous words. Synonyms are usually defined as words of the same lan- guage and same gi-ammatical class, identical in meaning. There may be, especially in a composite language like the English, words that are precisely equivalent. But use will soon make a difference between them; for language tends always to reject what is useless. Some drop out of use, others are appropriated to poetry or science, while with others ^^ hat Coleridge has called the desynonymizing process takes place; diiferent shades of meaning are attached to the different words, and from being Equivalent terms they become synonymous. Strictly, synonyms are words of the same language and gi-am- matical class that agi-ee in their main idea, but differ in their subordinate and accessory ideas. They are not identical, but siinilar in meaning ; the points of similarity are easily recog- nized, while great care is often requii'ed to discover the precise point of difference. With the improvement in knowledge and refinement the differences of objects are more carefully noticed and recorded in the language. The number of synonymous words is constantly increasing, and with their increase the language acquires gi'eater perspicuity and precision. An acquaintance with the shades of meaning of these words is an indispensable condition of accurate thinking and writing. The writer must avoid confounding them with each other. By such a misapplication of them he fails to express his thought ; the general idea may be conveyed, but the secondary one, that limits and determines the general, will not. This promiscuous use of distinct words is also a con'uption of the language, as it tends to destroy its logical clearness and precision. Some- times, how'ever, it is not necessary to discriminate' accurately between the various shades of meaning ; it answers the purpose of the writer to give merely the general idea ; in such cases he can use different words to expi-ess the same thought. 88 STYLE. Sec. 47 The accumulation of synonymous words is also to be avoided. The effect is to perplex the reader, who naturally endeavors to discover a meaning in each of the words, whereas the writer has used them as equivalents ; as when the truth and veracity, or the courage and bravery of a person are spoken of. Synonyms are sometimes coiubined for the sake of complete- ness. One word does not give the thought, and two or more must be joined to express the full meaning. This is not a case of improper accumulation of synonymous words, but of bring- ing together several words to denote a single idea, which can not be expressed with sufficient fullness and accuracy by a single term. Remark. — Tlie English language owes much of.its richness in syno- nyms to its composite cliaraeter and the readiness witli whieli it admits foreisii additions. Tlie following examples will show from what sources our synonyms are chiefly derived. It will be seen that some belong to the same stock, others are drawn from different languages : Ex. — 1. Mute, L.; Voiceless, A.-S. 2. Durable, L.; Lasting, A.-S. 3. Bold, A.-S.; Brave, Fr. 4. Place, Fr.; Position, L. 5. Weariness, A.-S.; Fatigue, Fr.; Lassitude, L. 6. Trick, A.-S.; Finesse, Fr.; Arti- fice, L.; Device, Ital.; Stratagem, Gr. 7. Honesty and Integrity, L. 8. Mild, Soft, Meek, A.-S. 3. The use of equivocal terms. Equivocal terms are words and phrases that admit of being understood in a sense different from that in which the writer applies them. They are found in every part of speech, and are the converse of synonyms, being words identical in form but differing in meaning. The use of words having a plurality of meanings is una- voidable ; language is finite, while the thoughts to be expressed are of illimitable variety. No language has a separate sign for every single notion; hence most words represent a cluster of related ideas ; they are but hints which the writer must leave to the intelligence of his readers to interpret. He must enable them to do this with_ease and certaintj'. It is-4|^iola- tion of accuracy to suggest a wrong meaning, or to leave it doubtful which one of the ideas denoted by the word is intended to be conveyed. Sec. 47 THE CHOICE OF WORDS. 89 There ai'e some words which with the same form signify totally different objects ; as, for example, the word rent, which signifies a rent caused by tearing, and rent paid for houses and land. Such words are not properly equivocal. Another class is composed of words which with identity of form denote different aspects, relations, and applications of the same notion. It is in this class that all the really important equivocal terms are found. Thus the same word, or rather the same combination of letters, may admit of being applied : (1) In a wide and in a narrow sense ; for example, thought, in its wider sense, denotes all mental acts ; in its narrower, it is confined to the acts of the understanding. (2) Literally and figuratively ; as in the words, icallc, iceigh, upright, etc. (3) Actively and passively ; for example, imagination signi- fies both the act of imagining and the result of the act ; so also perception, induction, deduction, inference, and many others of the same kind. (4) Subjectively and objectively ; for example, a fearful heart (subjective), a, fearful height (objective); so also terms denoting both a sensation and its cause ; as, for example, heat, cold, and others. (5) Absolutely and relatively ; for example, oldest inmate, oldest scholar, etc. Is it meant that he is the oldest inmate, i. e., has been longest time in the establishment! or that he is the oldest person among the inmates or scholars ? In the first sense it is used relatively ; in the latter, absolutely. There are many words that are so indefinite as to be a source of great confusion and eiTor when admitted into philosophical discussions. Thus the word nature is employed in a wide sense, as equivalent to the sum of created things, and in a nar- rower sense, as equivalent to material objects ; sometimes act- ively — " Nature relieves disease," — sometimes passively ; in a figurative and literal sense, etc. Law is another of these very indefinite words; it does not mean the same thing in tlie phrases, law of nature, law of thought, moral law. Idea is another instance : " Word and thing," says Sir Wm. Hamil- Rhel. s 90 STYLE. Sec. 47 ton, " idea^ have been the crux philosopliorum, since Aristotle sent them packing, to the present day." Congruity. — The terms chosen should not only express the ideas accm-ately, but should at the same time be appropriate to their nature and importance, and to the pm-pose of the dis- course. This rule is violated in many ways ; only some of the most general offenses against it need be mentioned here. The first is the fault which has become prevalent of employ- ing a phraseology alien from the common forms of speech. It has been already shown that words and phrases are tolerated in conversation which are not admissible into a composition. But in the effort to avoid a coarse and too colloquial style, many go to the opposite extreme of an equally offensive fine writing. A genuine popular style is free from both pedantry and coarse- ness. The most cultivated writers incline to the plain and familiar ; they adapt the expression to the thought, and where choice is allowed select the common, idiomatic words. What should be the proportion of Saxon and foreign words in a discourse can not be fixed by any rule. The diction of a correct writer will vary with the subject he discusses ; when it is a question of science or criticism, the Latin element will preponderate; and native terms, when it is a familiar object or occuiTence./ The general rule is, that, other things being equal, Saxon words are to be preferred. > It may be adopted as a safe principle in writing, " that every Latinism which can be displaced by a Saxonism is a defect avoided, if not a beauty gained." The best writers of the present day recognize the importance of the native element of the language, and employ a larger proportion of Anglo-Saxon words than the writers of the last centuiy. But with the gi-eater number of writers the reverse is true. They make use of a latinized English, or an angli- cized Latin phraseology, whatever the subject and occasion. It is characteristic of this style to eschew the familiar expressive terms of daily life, and to employ on the most trivial themes sounding, uncommon words. It is supposed that the use of Sec. 47 THE CHOICE OF WORDS. 91 sucli terms gives greater dignity to style. On the contrary, it renders it formal and monotonous ; destroys all force and grace, which are inseparable from natm-alness; and frequently be- comes ludicrous from the contrast between the feeble, common- place thoughts and the labored, pompous expression. Ex. — The following extract fiom a criticism in tlip London Times of one of Thackeray's works will exemplify the faults here condemned : " It has been customary of late years for the purveyois of amusing literature to put forth opuscules denominated Christmas books, with the ostensible intention of swelling the tide of exhilaration or other expansive emotions incident on tlu^ exodus of the old, or the inauguration of the new year." This pretentious style, which Trench calls, " that worst and most offen- sive kind of bad English, which disguises poverty of thought, and lack of any real command over the language, by the use of big, hollow, lumbering Latin words," has been treated of very fully by Dean Alford in his Plea for the Queen's English, and by Richard Grant White in his work upon Words and their Uses. A few examples from these works are here given. A man is an "individual," or a "person," or a "party;" a woman is a " female," a name which might belong to any animal tribe : a child is a "juvenile," and children en masse are expressed by that most odious term, " the rising generation.'' A man going home is set down as " an indi- vidual proceeding to his residence." * Instead of, most of the people of the place, we have, " the majority of the residents in tlie locality." Men nowadays " experience " a sensation ; the weather " experiences " a change. It would be an unpardonable want of dignitj- to siiy : " When I came to the spot, I met a man running towards me with his hands held up." It must read, " When the very reverend gentleman arrived in close proximity to the scene of action, he encountered an individual proceeding at a rapid pace in the opposite direction, having both his hands elevated in an excited manner." Alford, p. 24.5 et seq. The following sentence is found in the report of a comnjitteee of tlie legislature of New York on street railways: "It is not to be denied that any system which demands the propulsion of cars at a. rapid rate, at an elevation of fifteen or twenty feet, is not entirely consistent, in public esti- mation, witli the greatest attainable immunity from the dangers of trans- portation." IVords and tJtcir Uses, p. 32. Another offense against congruity is exaggeration ; that is, the use of lang>iage disproportionate to the importance of the ideas to be expressed. Such an inflated, overeliarged style is characteristic of much of our popular prose. It is inconsistent 92 STYLE. Sec. 47 with truthfulness, as it gives a false view of the subject, or of the writer's feelings in reference to it. Though employed for the sake of emphasis its ett'ect is the reverse; the endeavor to give importance to what is low and feeble by using strong lan- guage, only renders the feebleness more apparent. It destroys both the logical precision and the moral dignity of a language. The use of strong terms on ordinary subjects and occasions is a certain sign of poverty of thought and shallowness of feeling. Sobriety of judgment which sees things as they are and appre- ciates them at their real worth, and sincerity and earnestness of feeling, employ the language of moderation, such as ex- presses less than is felt rather than more. 48. Conclusion. — The rules which have been given relate to words used in their literal, proper sense. By observing them we present a clear and truthful statement of oui- thoughts to the understanding. But when we aim at the highest possible degree of perspicu- ity and vivacity ; when we would call into activity the reader's powers in reproducing the ide^is ; and when we would excite his feelings and passions and move his will, we must endeavor to bring the notions down from the abstract generality in which they are presented to the understanding in their appropriate signs, and exhibit them in sensible forms to the imagination. The means of doing this are the Figures of Speech, which will be considered in the next chapter. CHAPTEE III. FIGURES OF SPEECH. 49, Figures of Speech in general — Definition. — ^Figures of speech are deviations ft'om the strictly grammatical and logical modes of expression, by means of which ideas and thoughts are conveyed with vividness and force. Sec. 49 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 93 Are natural and necessary. — The real nature of the rela- tion of figures to thought is very generally misunderstood. The majority of rhetoricians treat of them as mere ornaments, which render a discourse more pleasing, and which may be used or rejected at pleasure. Some wiiters — as, for example, Locke — condemn their employment in works intended to con- vey knowledge and truth; they are pronounced inventions, which serve only to insinuate wrong ideas, move the passions, and mislead the judgment. But instead of being inventions of art, they are the natural, and therefore necessary and universal forms, in which excited imagination and passion manifest themselves. The young and the old, tlie barbarous and the civilized, all employ them uncon- sciously. Languages in their earlier state are highly figurative ; as they grow older they lose their natural picturesqueness and become collections of lifeless symbols. These abstract forms are regarded by rhetoricians and grammarians as the natural and ordinary forms of speech, and so they describe figures as departures from the usual forms of expression. They are, it is true, deviations from the forms in which cool, unimpassioned reflection expresses itself, but not from the ordi- nary forms of the expression of emotion and affection. Excited feeling manifests itself in the movements of the body; much more will it leave its impress on language. For a person under great excitement to express the thoughts that agitate him in the ordinary logical forms, would be as unnatural as for one whose mind is perfectly calm to employ the language of passion. jS'or is it true that the use of figures obscures the thoughts. Abstract ideas are communicated to the illiterate much more clearly by figurative expressions than by thek appropriate gen- eral terms. Their classification. — A great deal of ingenuity has been expended in discriminating and classifying the figures of speech. Almost every violation of strict grammatical law has been made a figure, and received a name. In this process of 94 STYLE. • Sec. 49 endless division and subdivision tlieir real nature and signifi- cance have been lost sight of. The numerous and complicated classifications of the older Ehetorics need not be enumerated, as they are of but little practical value, and at the present day are very generally neg- lected. It will enable us to understand better the nature and use of the figures of speech to keep in view the twofold purpose which they accomplish. In the first place, they reproduce ideas with something of the fullness and vividness of objects of sense; in the second place, they give emphasis to the thoughts the truth and importance of which the writer wishes to impress on his hearers. Some figures are better adapted to the first, others to the second of these purposes. We may therefore divide them into two main classes or divisions : 1. Figures of Intuition. 2. Figures of Emphasis. 50. Figures of Intuition. — These figures present an idea or judgment in a sensible form to the imagination, either directly, by clothing abstract notions in a concrete image, by endowing inanimate objects with life and sense, and by bring- - ing distant objects near and into living connection with us ; or indu'ectly, by comparing them with familiar and striking objects. They give a distinct, vivid image from which the under- standing constructs the notion to be conveyed; at the same time they give emphasis to the notion. They are Tropes, Personification, Figures of Ideal Presence, Similes, Allusions, and Epithets. 51. Tropes in general. — Tropes form that class of figures in which there is the substitution of one idea for another, with the transfer of the word denoting the one notion to the other. The word is thus no longer applied in its ordinary, established sig- nification, but in a derivative one. There must always be some relation existing between the ideas that justifies the ex- change. The use of tropes is only a particular manifestation of Sec. 52 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 95 the natural process by which the mind seeks to realize general notions ; the individual is substituted for the general, the con- crete for the abstract. The points to be noticed in all tropes are : 1st. The original, main thought, or the proper, literal signi- fication of the term. 2d. The substituted thought, or the derivative meaning of the term. 3d. The relation between the two, or the principle on which the transfer has been made. The relations which serve as foundations for this figure are those of the whole and its parts, cause and eft'ect, resemblance and analogy, and all relations that determine the association of thoughts. The tropes are. Synecdoche, Metonymy, and Metaphor, representing single notions, and Allegory, represent- ing a judgment. 52. Synecdoche. — Synecdoche is a trope founded on the relation of the whole to its parts, and consists in the substitu- tion of a part for the whole. There are various forms of synecdoche, answering to the different lands of wholes and parts. 1. A species is put for the genus, an individual for the species; as, bread for food; silver and gold for riches; "They shall beat their sirords into jplowslmres, and their upears into priming-hools" — swords and spears are here used for all weapons of war, plowshares and pruning-hooks for the imple- ments of the peaceful arts ; a Homer, instead of an epic poet ; a Demosthenes, instead of an orator. " Such an Orhilius mars more scholars than he makes"— Orbilius, instead of a harsh school-master. Many of these tropes have become trite ; as, a Solomon, for a wise man ; a Judas, for a ti-aitor. In introducing new ones care must be taken that then- application be instantly recog- nized. 2. A quality or attribute of an individual object or person is put for the individual : " Thus spoke the tempter''^; " the phi- 96 STYLE. Sec. 62 losopher,'^ for Aristotle. Although seemingly substituting the general for the particular, it really presents the individual with some prominent characteristic, and thus makes the notion more distinct. 3. The matter of an object is put for tlie form; i. e., the material for the thing made : " The breathing marble and the glowing canvas"; so steel for sword, lead for bullet. The object is thus presented more viyidly by suggesting some of its visible aspects. 4. A part of an integrate whole is given instead of the whole ; as, fifty sail for fifty ships ; the leaves for the ocean ; the head for the whole body. 6. A determinate number is put for an indeterminate, the singular for the plural, and, in general, a less for a greater ; as, " ten thousand swords"; " an old man is venerable." The effects of this trope arc owing to its conveying what is abstract and general by means of particular and individual notions that can be pictured in the imagination ; and to its presenting, in sensible objects, those prominent, characteristic parts which suggest most naturally and readily the entire object. It is not, then, a matter of indifference what parts are chosen. That only should be chosen which is appropriate to the idea and purpose of the writer, and corresponds to what is said of the whole which it represents. " We descried a sail," is proper; but we can not say, "Our sails plowed the deep," as there is no connection between the sails and the act of plowing. " Tlie enemy are in possession of the walls," conveys fully and appro- priately their being masters of the city. We say roof for house, when the idea of shelter is the prominent one in the mind; as, "I abjure all roofs''; but hearth or fireside when the ideas of home intimacies and" enjoyments are to be sug- gested. The converse of synecdoche is the substitution of the general for the particular ; as, the genus for the species, the whole for the part, the plural for the singular ; for example, a vessel for a ship ; the ignorance* of mortals; iveapon for sword, etc. Its Sec. 53 FIGUKES OP SPEECH. 97 effect is the opposite of the synecdoche, as it renders the im- pression less vivid. It is one of the usual forms of euphe- mism. 53. Metonymy. — Metonymy is a trope founded upon the necessary relations of objects. It substitutes one notion for another that is closely connected with it. The principal of these relations are : 1. Cause and effect. The cause is put for the effect ; as, the author for his work, the inventor for his invention, the ances- tor for his descendants; for example, "I read Milton"; a Davy, for the safety-lamp ; Israel, for the Jews. Here belongs the use of mythological names ; as, Bacchus, for wine ; Ceres, for bread, and the like. Other examples of this form of me- tonymy are : He shall bear his iniquity; your sin will find you out ; he supports them by his labor; to bask in the sun. The effect is put for the cause; as, shade, for trees; drunlcen- ness, for wine; to send death into the ranks of the enemy. Physical effects are put for the actions or mental states causing them ; as, tears, for sorrow ; sweat of his brow, for labor. A passion or emotion is put for its exciting cause, or the object on which it terminates ; as, the terror of the oppressed, i. e., he who inspires terror. The instrument is put for the agent, the process, or the effect; as, to write a good hand; the sword without; the^cw is mightier than the stcord; "I will speak daggers to her, but use none." 2. Time and place. The time is put for what existed or happened in it ; as, antiquity, the nineteenth centiuy, a refined or barbarous age, instead of the people then living. The name of a place for what is contained, or produced, or took place in in it; as, "the whole theater applauded"; "they devoured the land"; "he drank the fatal cup"; " to be fond of the bottle"; "France would not consent." Calico, demijohn, china, are metonymies of this class, which have lost their figurative meaning. 3. Possessor and thing possessed. The owner is put for his property, and riee versa; as, "to devour the families of the Rhet. U 98 STYLE. Sec. 53 widow," instead of their means of subsistence ; the latid, house, farm, pays tax or rent, instead of the owner. 4. Sign and thing signified. Instead of naming purely in- tellectual objects their visible symbols are named; as, the laurel, instead of victory ; the olive branch, instead of peace ; the throne, the purple, the scepter; the crescent and the cross. The force of this trope is owing to its employing expressions that present the notion in a more concrete, particular form, than the proper name of the object. It loses its force when abstract and general notions take the place of the less general and sensible ; for example, the clouds drop blessings, for fruit- ful showers. A process of reasoning is requii'ed in such cases to gain the idea, and the attention is thus withdi-awn from the thought. Antonomasia. — This trope is of the same nature as me- tonymy, although it can not be said to exhibit the idea more vividly. It consists in putting in place of a proper name, another notion which naay be either in apposition to it or predi- cated of it. Its principal use is to avoid the repetition of the same name, and the too frequent use of the pronoun. The most frequent forms of it are, naming a person fi'om his parent- age or country; as, Achilles is called Pelides ; Napoleon Bonaparte, the Corsicnn: or naming him from some of his deeds; as, instead of Scipio, the destroyer of Carthage; in- stead of Wellington, the hero of Waterloo. In making use of this trope such designations should be selected as are well known, or can be easily understood fi'om the connection, and free from ambiguity, — that is, are not equally applicable to other well known persons. 64. Metaphor. — The metaphor is a trope founded upon re- semblance. It is the substitution of one notion for another in virtue of some resemblance or analogy between them. It is often called an abridged simile. It agrees \vitli it in being founded upon resemblance, but difters from it in structui-e. In Sec. 54 FIGUEES OF SPEECH. 99 the metaphor there is no explicit statement of comparison ; one object takes the place of the other ; in the simile we say that one object is like another; as, "]\Ian is as the flower of the field": in the metaphor we say that one is the other; as, "All flesh is gi-ass." The resemblances upon which metaphors are founded are either direct or indirect. They are du-ect, when the -objects are alike in certain common qualities or modes of action. It is enough to put one notion for the other ; the resemblance is rec- ognized at once ; as when we say tahle-]a.n([, or to fiy, instead of to move swiftly. They are remote, when the similarity is not of qualities, but of relation. We say, "the evening of life," and all under- stand that old age is meant. There is not any direct resem- blance between old age and evening, but the relation of the evening to the day is the same as the relation of old age to a man's life. We substitute the notion life, of the second term of the proportiop, for day of the fii'st part, and by so doing we change the signification of evening ; it loses its proper ordinary meaning and acquires a secondary metaphorical one. The qualifying phrase, of life, shows that the word evening is to be taken figuratively, and also explains it ; it shows that Ave are to understand by it the close of a human life. At the same time the use of the word evening imparts a new character to the notion life ; it is no longer general and abstract, but is rep- resented to the imagination as a single day with its parts morn- ing, noon, evening, and followed by the night. Tlie metaphor, "The ship plows the waves," is another example of remote resemblance. There is the transfer of the action of one object to a related one. There is no direct resemblance between a plow and a ship, but there is an analogy between then effects ; what the action of the plow is to the ground, is the action of the ship on the waves. The metaphors from analogy, or remote resemblance, are the most fi'equent and important ; by many they are regarded as the only metaphors. Thus Bishop Copleston defines the meta- phor as " a contracted comparison in which two terms of the 100 STYLE. Sec. 64 analogy are omitted, and no mention is made of the simili- tude." Divided into three kinds. — Metaphors are divided with re- spect to the objects between, which the exchange is made into three classes. 1. Those in which the qualities and acts of our intellectual and moral nature are represented by external, material objects; as, when we speak of weighing a matter, halting between two opinions. So, also, the light of knowledge, the darkness of superstition, a ray of hope, etc. The terms used to denote the acts of the mind are applied primarily to external objects ; as, spirit, reflection, attention, acuteness, sagacity, etc. Ex. — " Plulosopliy, justly curious to observe the structure of our facul- ties, and the nature of those wondrous operations by which man alone, of all creatures, lias acquired a history, endeavors to untwine the finished web of thonght, and lay out the variegated filaments, — the warp of con- stant nature and the woof of flying experience, — from which the texture seems to have been composed." "Outbursts of song and pulses of prayer are as successive strokes of the ever beating wing of aspiration." 2. Those in which physical propeiiies are represented by in- tellectual and moral. As the former materializes the spiritual, this spiritualizes matter; gives life to what is inanimate, thought and feeling to the senseless ; as, the sun rejoices, the morning laughs, imperious ocean, angry flood. This meta- phor is the simplest form of personification. 3. Those in which both the objects belong to the same sphere — ^both are material, or both spiritual; as| when the body is called the "soul's dark cottage"; the sun,' "fair Na- ture's eye." Its force, — The metaphor is one of the most frequent and one of the boldest of the figures of speecli. Its effect is not merely to render discom-se intelligible, but to impart to it the greatest possible degTee of vivacity. It accomplishes this end by giving the idea with greatest brevity — calling up by a word Sec. 54 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 101 what would require otherwise a whole sentence to communi- cate ; by exhibiting the acts and qualities of living objects by means of other objects, which set them forth in livelier colors ; and by presenting abstract notions, and ideas of a purely intel- lectual order in images that address the senses. It thus econo- mizes the attention, calls the imagination into activity, and employs the understanding in tracing the resemblance, solving the apparent contradiction which it involves, and reproducing from the image the precise thought. Rules for its use. — The improper employment of metaphors is one of the most frequent faults of style. The laws for their use and formation must be borne in mind. As metaphors are the natural expression of excited imagination and feeling, they must be judged by the laws of these powers. A cold, logical analysis would condemn some of the most noble and forcible. 1. There must be a real resemblance between the two ob- jects, and this resemblance must not be too close, nor in an accidental and insignificant quality. Where the objects are nearly related, and the points of similarity are numerous and apparent, nothing is gained by comparing them; there must be resemblance in the midst of differences to give employment either to the imagination or the understanding. To substitute one member of a class for an- other of the same — as one man, or one flower, for another — seldom adds to the vivacity of the representation, while the interchange of objects of different species exhibits the thought in a stronger light. But while metaphors should be drawn from objects that differ in the main, they must not be founded on supei-ficial qualities and relations. Their force depends on the intimacy of the relation between the notions compared. It is not meant that there must be a real analogy in essential points such as the understanding demands in the process of reasoning, but such a similarity as will enable the imagination naturally and easily to identify the two objects. Where this is not the case the sllghtness op the rocoinblnnca .iiMtnly made more apparent 102 STYLE. Sec. 54 by the attempt to combine them ; and the metaphor is called forced, trivial, far-fetched; it may excite sm-prise, and can be used with effect in comic productions, but is unfit for serious discourse. Many metaphors, in which natural objects are represented by images drawn fi'om artificial productions, are violations of this rule ; as when the heavens are spoken of as, " this gorgeous apparatus." The following from Addison, though pronounced by some beautiful and expressive, is exceptionable. Speaking of Milton's art, in the description of the descent of the band of angels into Paradise, after the Pall, he employs this meta- phor : " The whole theater of nature is darkened that this glo- rious machine may appear in all its luster and magnificence." Some metaphors violating this rule please by thek inge- nuity, and are admissible in sprightly works addressing the fancy, although out of place in the more elevated productions of the imagination and of serious prose ; as when the dew is described as, " The tears of the day for the loss of the sun." 2. The metaphors must be true. They must not contradict what we know of the objects and events from which they are drawn ; as when one speaks of the " strings of an instrument touched by a tone"; or of "gathering the honey of earthly wisdom not from flowers, but from thorns." 3. A metaphor must have simplicity. This is opposed to abstruseness and want of intelligibility. The point of resem- blance must be obvious — one that the persons addressed will perceive at once. A metaphor that can not be understood, or is understood only with difficulty, obscures the idea instead of illustrating it. Learned and technical metaphors are in most cases violations of this rule. Where there is danger of obscu- rity a writer may often prevent it by beginning with a simile and passing to the metaphor, or by inserting it as a parenthesis ; sometimes a qualifying word removes the difficulty. Pre- quently he introduces a somewhat bold metaphor by an ac- knowledgment of its audacity or an apology for it ; at other times he adds an explanation that serves to render it both clear and forcible. These bold metaphors are frequently em- Sec. 54 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 103 ployed, even in didactic discourse, to bring into prominence some important idea ; tlie necessity of explainimr the metaphor fixes the attention upon the idea, and impresses it upon the mind. Ex. — " The subsequent movement of the EngUsh speech lias not been in a right line of recession from the scriptural dialect. It has been rather a cuiTB of revolution around it. Were it not carrying the metaphor too -far, I would say it is an elliptical curve, and that the speech of England has now been bi-ought by it much nearer to that gi-eat solar center, the focus of genial warmth and clieerful liglit, than it was a century ago." 4. A metaplior must have unity. It must offer a distinct, consistent image to the imaginiitiou. The qualities and acts ascribed to the representative notion must be such as ])roperly belong to it. The terms employed must be understood in their literal sense with respect to the representative object, and in their secondary, or figm-ativc, sense with respect to the object represented. Unity is violated : (1) By combining the literal and the metaphorical. The metaphor must be altogether figurative ; tlu; attributes and predicates introduced must not be understood i>artlj' in their literal and partly in their figurative sense. "NA'here the true and false are thus mingled no distinct image is offered, and the mind is confused in attempting to reduce the parts to unity. Ex. — "My heart is turned to stone; I sfriJce it and it Imrts mij hantl." In the first clause " stone " is used figuratively ; in the second, it is taken literally. " Be Mowbray's siiin so Tieavii in his bosom, that they may hrealc his foaming courser's nccl:." Here " heavy " is first used in a figurative, then in a, literal sense. In both examples the rule is violated \\hich requires, that the terms employed be understood in their figurative sense with respect to the object represented. (2) By blending different and incompatible images. Xot only must all the parts be figurative, but all must be parts of the same figure. The writer must end witli the same meta- phor with which he began — not begin with a storm and end 104 STYLE. Sec. 54 with a conflagration. Such mixed metaphora, are veiy fre- quent. They present no distinct image, although we may guess the meaning. Ex. — " There is not a single view of liuman nature wbicli is not suffi- cient to extinguish the seeds of pride." Two incompatible images are here combined. Instead of the word " extinguish," tliere should be employed one that corresponds to the word " seeds." "We are constantly called upon to obseiTe how the noxious passions, which spring up in the heart like weeds in a neglected garden, are dissi- pated by the liijht of truth." "Every religious idea has its season. It is as though the drops of light in the night heavens must xoheel in their course before the sun can arise and smite them with death." "The religious idea wrapped in the shell of naturalism lay like a gland on the earth. The sun of prosperity shone on it, the dew of intelligence moistened it, the germ of life burst the hard casing which had imprisoned it, and became a vital religion flowering in polytheism, fruiting into mono- theism." It is difficult to apply this rule in all r.iiii'S, j-.:.il to decide what are and what are not mixed metaphors. Some critics are overfastidious. Many words hare lost their figurative sense, and suggest directly the idea without the intervention of an image. These can be combined in a manner which, if we regard their literal meaning, would be incongruous. Others vacillate between their literal and figurative meaning, and still retain enough of the figurative to produce a confused, inconsist- ent image when combined. The words fertile and source have so far lost their figurative sense, that it would be hypercritical to object to the expression "fertile somxe." The inconsistency of the following is felt by all : " Upon the style it is that these perplexities depend for their illumination.'''' 5. Metaphors should be suited to the nature and purpose of the discom-se, and to the ideas to be illustrated. Many that are appropriate to poetry are unsuitable for prose; and in oratory many are admissible that are excluded from didactic discourse. They must correspond to the importance of the subject, neither unduly elevating it nor sinking it below its proper dignity. Sec. 55 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 105 Ex. — "At length, however, it floated through both houses on the tide of a great majority, and steei'ed into the safe harbor of royal approba- tion." "Squeezing a parable." 6. A metaplior should luive novelty. In every language metaphorical expressions are cuirent which no longer suggest an image, but which are not consideied as proper terms; as, for example, "the mantle of charity," "the tooth of time." Such trite, stereotyped metaphors produce none of the effects of figurative language. They give a delusive appearance of novelty and vivacity, and leave the impression of feebleness of thought and coldness of feeling. There are other metaphors which, although not new, and not calling up vividly any image, nevertheless suggest resein- bUiuces and analogies, and thus impart some degree of vivacity to the style; as, "the evening of life." These may bo occasionally used in ordinary moods, although out of place in the expression of strong passion and excited emotion. By the use of trite metaphors a writer is often betrayed into some of the grossest offenses against the law of unity; as, " We nmst keep the ball rolling until it becomes a thorn in the side of Congress.'' " And now I must embark into the feature on which this question chiefly hinr/eis." 7. A metaphor should awaken pleasing associations. This forbids all that are coarse and mean; such, for example, as are dra\^n from the animal nature, low employments, and disgust- ing objects. They are unnatm-al, as the state of mind that prompts to the use of metaphorical language is an elevated one, which seeks to dignify the idea instead of degrading it. 55, Allegory. — Not only may we represent in sensible im- ages general notions, which are expressed by single terms, and form the subjects and predicates of propositions; but we may in the same manner convey general truths — that is, facts and principles which are expressed by a proposition or series of propositions. Life, for example, is a single notion, which may be embodied in an image; as when I say, "the voyage of life," 106 STYLE. Sec. 55 or " the battle of life," etc. In this we hare a metaphor. But when it is said, "Unity gives strength," or "Dissension brings weakness," a general truth is asserted. This truth may be conveyed figuratively, as in the story of the old man and the bundle of sticks; we have then an allegory. The essential difference between the allegory and the other tropes is, not that the former is extended while the latter are brief — the allegory may be short, as in many proverbs — but that the one is the figurative expression of a thought or general truth, 'the other of notions or general ideas. An allegory, then, is a continuous naiTation or description intelligible when taken literally, which is intended to inculcate a truth different from what is contained in the literal state- ment, but bearing some relation to it. It is like a hiero- glyphic — one thing is said, another thing is meant. We are called upon to interpret it, and to collect from what appears that which the writer wishes us to understand. If we do not go beyond the literal statement, we know nothing of what is meant. The laws for the structm-e and use of tropes in general apply to allegories. 1. They must be perspicuous. "The allegory must dwell in a transparent palace." The relation of its two parts — the image, or proper literal sense, and that which is intended to be declared, the secondai-y, allegorical sense — must be such that the meaning can be immediately seized. 2. The various details of the image must have their counter- part in the fact which is to be set forth. This rule, however, must not be enforced too rigidly. Minor details are admitted for ornament, which are not to be considered as parts of the allegory. •^ 3. The literal and figurative must not be mingled or con- fused. It must be in itself an intelligible, consistent state- ment. All the terms employed should be literally applicable •to the image or representative subject ; no conditions or acts should be ascribed to it that are not in accordance with its real nature. Sec. 56 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 107 Parable. — The parable is one foitn of the allegory. It is properly the exhibition of a religious truth by means of facts from nature and human life. It is not pretended, however, that the statements are historically true ; they are offered only as a means of conveying a higher general truth. But they are always true to nature ; the laws of the nature of the different beings introduced are strictly observed, and the events are such as might have taken place. Fable. — The fable differs from the parable in this, that it attributes the actions and words of rational beings to what is inanimate and irrational. They are purely fictitious — brutes and plants are made to think, and speak, and act like men. The laws of the nature of the actors in the fable are thus ^io- lated, and what is ascribed to them could not take place. Allegory, parable, and fable are also distinct species of com- position, the nature and laws of which are treated of in the Theory of Poetry. Ex. — ^The student may consult the following passages: Isa. v: 1-7; Ps. Ixxx : 8-16 ; the parable of Nathan, 2 Sam. xii : 1-4 ; and the parables of the Savior; the fable of Jotham, Judges ix: 7-15. 56. Personification. — Personification consists in represent- ing inanimate objects and abstract notions as living, and ascrib- ing to them the actions of persons. The tropes give to notions a visible form; this endows them with life, intelligence, and activity. The other figures tend to this, and blend with it, so that it is often an essential part of them. It is founded on the natural tendency of the mind when agi- tated by passion, to transfer to outward objects the mental and moral qualities of which it is conscious. Its force and beauty arise from its exhibiting lifeless things in a human form, and as possessing human sensibility and affection. The qualities and acts of inanimate things are sometimes described by attributes belonging to living and intelligent beings ; as when it is said, " a furious dart," " a raging tem- pest," " a frowning mountain." In such expressions we have 108 STYLE. Sec. 56 the genn of personification, but it is more convenient to class tliem with the tropes, and confine personification to those forms in wliicli inanimate objects, pliysical phenomena, and mental processes and qualities are represented as performing the ac- tions of living persons. Thus, inanimate objects are exhibited as addressing us, or as addressed by us, or as acting like intel- ligent beings; abstract qualities, as hope, fear, death, religion, slander, etc., are represented with the form and qualities of persons. Ex. — "O eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and wlioiu all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised; thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, hie jacet." Baleigh. Cautions with respect to using it 1. As the use of this figure is prompted by the instinctive craving of our nature for sympathy, no objects should be personified that are not of suffi- cient dignity and importance to awaken such feelings; not only low, trivial objects, but as a general rule artificial productions can not be personified with a good effect. 2. As each one is intended to gratify a particular passion, it should be confined to it, and whatever is contrary or foreign to it should be excluded. 3. There should be a perfect consistency of the parts; the qualities ascribed should all be such as belong to intelligent beings, and should harmonize in one character. 4. The higher forms of personification can be admitted only into the most animated prose; they are employed much more freely in poetry. The personification of abstract qualities is frequent even in didactic prose. 57. Ideal Presence, — This includes several figures which represent objects distant in space or time as present. 1 . The present tense used for a past or future. — ^The low- Sec. 57 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 109 est form is that in which past or future events are naiTated in the present tense, thus making the reader a spectator. This mode of namiting is especially adapted to discourses that atldress the passions, but it is also admissible in fomiliar dis- course. Its use is limited by the following conditions : (1) It should be justified by the subject and the writer's feel- ings. It produces an unpleasant effect when the subject docs not call for such a degi'ce of Tivacity, or when there is a want of lively interest on the part of the writer. (2) It should not be too frequently employed nor too pro- longed. It becomes ^^ earisome when excessive. Ex. — "The circumstances now clearly in evidence spread out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had fallen on the destined victim, and on all beneath his roof. A healthful old man, to whom sleep was sweet, — the first sound slumbers of the night held him in their strong embrace. The assassin cniere, throngh the window aheadi prepared, into an unoc- cupied apartment. With noiseless foot he pa^es the lonely hall lie winds up the ascent of the stairs, and reaches the door of the chamber. Of this he mores the lock, by soft, continued pressure, till it turns on its hinges without noise, and he enters and belwlds his victim before him. . . . The deed is done. He retreats, retraces his steps to the window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes." Webster. 2. Vision. — Another figure of this class is vision. In this the writer declares himself an eye-witness of some event, and depicts it as taking place in his presence. It is the expression of poweiful emotion, and should be used but seldom and with greatest caution. Ex. — From a speech against impressing seamen. "Would the learned gentleman not let one father, one brother, or one child escape in this gen- eral scene of oppression and injustice ? Metliinks I hear the heartfelt shrieks of the miserable wife this instant piercing my ears, and entreating, in accents of rage and despair, the midnight ruffian not to drag from her side the father of her children and her only support ! I thiiik I hear the aged, helpless parent, in accents of sinking woe, misery, and distress, bewailing the loss of his dutiful, affectionate sou!" "Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like u strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks; methmks I see her, as an eagle, mewing her mighty youth, and kindling 110 STYLE. Sec. 5T her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam ; purging and scaling her long abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance ; while the whole noise of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at what she means, and in their envious gabble would prognosticate a year of sects and schisms." Milton. 3. Apostrophe. — ^Another figm-e of this class is apostrophe, which consists in addi'essing the absent as though they were present. It brings those who are distant in time or place into our immediate presence, and represents them as listening to us. The figure receives additional force when the addi-ess takes the form of questions. We may thus address living persons who are absent, the dead, former ages, future ages, and invisible beings. Ex. — "But, alas, you are not all here. Time and the sword have thinned your ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! our eyes seek for you in vain amid this broken band. You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance and your own bright example." Wehster. " Yes, noble Galileo, thou art right, ' It does move.' Bigots may make thee recant it, but it moves, nevertheless. . . . Close now, venerable sage, that sightless, tearful eye ; it has seen what man never before saw ; it has seen enough. Hang up that poor little spy-glass ; it has done its work. . . . Rest in peace, great Columbus of the heavens, — ^like him scorned, persecuted, broken-hearted." Everett. 4. Sermocination. — Still- another of the same class is ser- mocination. In this figure absent, invisible, or supematm-al beings are represented as addressing us. It may be combined with apostrophe ; the discom-se then takes the form of animated dialogue. Ex. — "Ask the very soul of Peter, and it shall undoubtedly make you itself this answer : ' My eager protestations made in the glory of my ghostly strength, I am ashamed of; but those crystal tears wherewith my sin and weakness was bewailed have procured my endless joy ; my strength hath been my ruin, and my fall my stay.' " Hooker, "Suppose that God should address you in these words: 'O man, I would to-day take away this heart and give you another ; you have only the power of man, I will give you that of God.' " Sec. 58 riGUEES of speech. Ill 58. Simile. — ^A simile is the explicit statement of the resem- blance between two objects or notions belonging to different classes. Like the metaphor, it renders a notion clearer and more vivid by comparing it with another that is better known, and can be more easily pictm-ed in the imagination ; it differs fi'om it in that it does not identify the two notions, but asserts explic- itly their sunilarity. Strictly speaking, a simile is composed of two members, one containing the notion to be illusti'ated, the other the illustrative notion ; ordinaiily the illustrative member — introduced by like, as, — is regarded as the simile. The order of the aiTangement of the members is not invariable ; whether the illustrative shall precede or follow that which contains the notion to be illustra- ted, is determined by rhetorical considerations. There may be also a difference in the prominence given to the different mem- bers. The main notion may be expanded and its likeness to the illustrative notion be but briefly indicated, or the reverse. In die older Ehetorics the fonner was called comparison, and the latter simile. The objects compared must belong to different classes. This constitutes the difference between a simile and an example. A comparison between two individuals of the same species, or between two species of the same genus, is not a simile. The objects must be dissimilar in their general nature, but have certain qualities in common which can be perceived imme- diately, or sustain similar relations. We have therefore two classes of similes — those of direct resemblance and those of analogy. The objects may be both from the same sphere — both material or both spiritual, — or from different spheres — one spiritual, the other material. Ex. — "The sun was now resting his hnge disc upon the edge of the level ocean, and gilded tlie accumulation of towering clouds through which lie had traveled tin- livelong day, and which now ussemhled on all sides, like misfortunes and disasters around a siiiking empire and falling monarch.'' W. Scofl. "As used in this rude state, language resembles the harsh music of the 112 STYLE. Sec. 58 Alpine horn, blown by the rude Swiss lievd-boy. It is only when the lofty peaks around take it up that it is transmuted by their echoes into exqui- site melody." Sogers. " His melancholy genius plays in wild and rapid flashes, like lightning round the scathed oak, about the fallen greatness of man." SaUam. Different orders of Similes. — The use of similes involves some degree of activity of the imagination, but no powerful disturbing passion. They are natural only in a state of mind that permits a deliberate comparison of objects. They serve chiefly to explain, elevate, and adorn. A perfect simile ex- hibits the object in a clearer light, in new and pleasing aspects, and awakens the appropriate emotions. The lowest class of similes is composed of the purely didac- tic, whose main purpose is to render obscure notions distinct. It is sometimes difficult to discriminate them from logical illustrations. The rules to be observed with respect to this class are: 1. The object with which the illustrated notion is compared must be a familiar one. The less known must be compared with what is better known. 2. The point of similarity should be discovered without any effort of attention. 3. No circumstances should be admitted which are not abso- lutely necessary to convey the notion clearly and fully. In this class of similes dignity and elevation are not sought after; if the analogy is just and the object be explained, noth- ing further is demanded; the more homely similes are often chosen as the more eftective. But there are similes of a higher class, which, besides giving a more distinct representation of an object, confer additional pleasure by the novelty of the comparison, and by associating the object with elevated and agreeable subjects. Ex. — "The style of Canning is like the convex mirror, which scatters cv<'ry ray of Ught which falls upon it, and shines and sparkles in whatever position it is viewed; that of Brougham is like the concave speculum, scattering no indiscriminate raidance, but having its light concentrated into one intense, tremendous focus." Sec. 69 FIGUKES OF SPEECH. 113 "The ideas, as well as the children, of our youth often die before us; and our inijids represent to us those tombs to which we are approaching, where, though the brass and marble remain, yet the inscriptions are effaced by time, and the imagery molders away." Locke. "As iron girders and pillars expand and contract with the mere varia- tions of temperature, so will the strongest conviction on wliicli the human intellect rests its judgment vary with the changes of the human heart, and the building is safe only when these variations are foreseen and allowed for by a wisdom intent on self-knowledge." Bulwer. It is essential to tlie peifection of sucli similes that they be not too greatly extended nor fanciful. The poet is allowed to expand his similes and to incoi-porate details which, while not necessary to illustrate a notion, embellish it and call up agree- able associations ; but this is forbidden a prose writer. When the resemblance is not apparent, or is arbitrary and fanciful, similes, instead of rendering a notion clearer, obscure it. Such similes belong rather to the fancy than to the understanding and imagination ; they surprise and dazzle, but accomplish none of the ends of prose. Ex. — The following, though not strictly fanciful, have an air of subtlety and ingenuity which makes their use of doubtful propi-ietys " Our planet, thus instinct with devout life, girded with intent and per- ceptive souls, covered over as with a diriiie retina by the purer conscience of humanity, is like a Urhig eye, watching on every side the immensity of Deity in which it floats." " The mighty spirits of our race are as the lyric thoughts of God that drop and breathe from his almighty solitude." 69. Allusions. — Allusions may be considered a species of comparison. They give greater clearness and vividness to a notion by indicating its connection with some well known object or event. The connection is not exhibited in full, but merely pointed out; it is left to the reader to complete the image. In order to accomplish their object they must be made to familiar objects ; when an explanation is requu-ed they are faulty. Unmeaning allusions, which stand in no relation to the thought, must be avoided. The principal sources of allusions are, history, the sacred 114 STYLE. Sec. 59 scripture, classical and standard authors. Passing events and the ephemeral productions of the day may also afford them. Ex. — " Genial, almost to a miracle, is tlie soil of soi-row ; wherein the smallest seed of love, timely falling, becometh a tree, in whose foliage the birds of blessed soug lodge and sing unceasingly." " The inundation of lawless power, after covering the rest of Europe, threatens England ; and we are exactly, most critically, placed in the only aperture where it can be successfully repelled, in the Thermopylae of the 60. Epithets. — Epithets deserve special mention as a means towards vivacity. Adjectives are joined to substantives, to limit them and thus form particular notions out of general ones; as when we say, "a Avhite rose," "a gold ring;" when thus used they are indispensable to the completeness of the notion, and can not be omitted without destroying it. But adjectives are also used, not to add any thing to the sense, but to signify a quality of the object to which it is desired to direct attention; as, resistless lightning, heartless pride. When thus used they are called Epithets. By the judicious Employment of epithets we may bring dis- tinctly to view, with the gi-eatest brevity, an object with its characteristic features. Their abuse is a common fault of un- trained and of inferior writers. They are used improperly : — 1. "When they are not apposite. As they belong to the lan- guage of the emotions, they can not be applied to ideas that have no significance or value for the imagination and feelings. What is trite and tame can not receive force and dignity by being presented with an array of qualifying words ; the feeble- ness of the thought is thereby made the more apparent, and the style is tawdry and frigid. 2. When they are unmeaning. Epithets are unmeaning when they do not give greater fullness or vividness to the thought. They should condense a judgriient, an argument, or an image. Faulty in this respect are such as signify a quality already sufficiently indicated by the noim itself; as, frozen ice, white snow, and the like. In the early periods of literatm-e Sec. 60 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 115 sucli epithets were not offensive, but at present they are objec- tionable in poetry and unendurable in prose. Another class of unmeaning epithets are such as suggest no distinct quality, but are altogether indefinite, and are applied indiscriminately to the most heterogeneous objects. As in- stances of this class, may be mentioned the words, fair, sweet, goodly. Stereotyped epithets, such as hare become hackneyed by long use, belong to this class. They no longer recall an image, and nothing is gained by their use. They indicate that the writer has no vi\id impression of the object, and has not ob- served it for himself; but is narrating or describing by rote. 3. When they are too frequent. The redundant employ- ment of epithets is a gi-eat and offensive fault. It springs fi'om indolence, a want of clear and distinct thought, or of a proper appreciation of the relative importance of the several notions, and is the cause of a frigid, efleuiinate style. We disgust our readers by forcing upon their attention whatever we deem re- markable ; if we wish to keep their attention, we must leave a gi'eat deal to the activity of their minds. By attempting to give equal prominence to every idea, we depress all ; in com- position, as in painting, we must attend to the distribution of light and shade. Adverbs are also used as epithets to qualify verbs and adjec- tives ; their use is subject to the rules given above. An epithet may be either a single adjecti^'e or adverb, or a compound; as, a way-side violet, heart-hardening gold, stiff- necked pride. Some of these compound epithets are among the most beautiful in tlie language ; they are, however, more appropriate to poetry. Epithets may signify either natural and distinctive qualities of an object or such as are attributed to it figuratively. The principal sources are given in the following epitome taken from Jenny n's Book of English Epithets: Epithets are eitlier literal or figurative. I. Literal — expressive of any quality eminently oliaracteristic of a sub- jeet. They are either positive or negative. 116 STYLE. Sec. 60 II. Figurative — 1. By metaplior. Epitlicts ai-e ascribed — (1) From one subject to aniitlier reserabling; as, billowy cloud. (3) Frimi a liumau being to an inferior animal, and rice versa; as, laugliing liyeua, barking cynic. (3) From an inanimate thing to a human being ; as, senseless miser. (4) From matter to an operation of mind ; as, brilliant thought. (0) From an object of one sense to that of another; as, delicious music. 2. By metonymy, etc.; attributing a quality proper to one subject to another subject having external relation, etc. (1) Of a cause to an eflect, and of an efi'ect to a cause ; as, benevo- lent smile, smiling happiness. (i) Of a subject to a member or part; as, studious eye. (3) Of an agent to an instrument, and to what is acted upon; as, blood-thirsty ax, skillful harp. (4) Of a part of the body to an act of the mind : as, biting envy. (5) Of the contents to the container; as, flowing bowl. 3. By irony. In ridicule, in sarcasm, or in paradox ; as, magnanimous mouse, darling gold, pleasing pain. 61. Figures of Emphasis. — The remaining class of iigures dififers from the preceding in not giving a vivid intuition of the object. Their force consists in giving prominence and empha- sis to the logically important thoughts. They are not ad- dressed to the imagination, present no pict-ure ; but direct the attention to the thought, and convey at the same time the feel- ings which it has excited in the writer's mind. Hence they are called Figures of Emphasis and Passion. They are Interrogation, Repetition, Exclamation, Hyper- bole, Irony, Climax, and Antithesis. 62. Interrogation. — The inteiTogation, as a figure of speech, is not the expression of a desire to have doubt and ignorance removed ; it is an indirect but vehement assertion of strong conviction ; we affirm by a negative question, and deny by an affirmative; as, — "Can not God create another world many times more fair, and cast over it a mantle of light many times more lovely? Can lie not elmt up winter in his hoary caverns, or send him howling over another domain?" Sec. 62 FIGUEES OP SPEECH. 117 " Is not a patron one who looks witli unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached the gi-ound encumbers him with help?" "Can any thing be newer than that a man from Macedonia should subjugate Greece?" This figure owes its force to the fact that it compels tlie reader to give the answer to the interrogation, and tjms calls his powers into action ; and also, that it combines with the assertion of the truth of the statement a challenge to deny it. It is a condensed mode of asserting, that what we say is true and can not be contradicted. It is employed properly in ani- mated reasoning; it is an abuse of it to employ it in cool, dis- passionate discourse ; there we seek clear explications and co- gent arguments, and to supplant them by interrogations gives to the discourse an air of flippancy. Even in impassioned discourse it should be used with moderation; readers become disgusted when continually defied to deny what is said. It occurs most frequently in the writings of loose thinkers, who make sweeping assertions, but spare themselves the labor of explaining and proving. Repetition, — Eepetition may be either of single words and phrases, in the same sentence or in successive sentences, or of entire clauses and sentences. It is natural to the language of passion, and occurs frequently in ordinary discourse. Ex. — " You, sir, wlio delight to utter execrations against the American commissioners of 1778, on account of their hostility to America ; — you, sir, who manufacture stage-thunder against Sir. Eden for his anti-Ameii- can principles ; — ^jou, sir, whom it pleases to clmnt a hymn to the immor- tal Hampden; — you, sir, approved of the tyranny exercised against America ; and you, sir, voted four thousand Irish troops to cut the throats of the Americans, fighting for their freedom, fighting for your freedom, fighting for the great principle, liberty." Gratlaii. Exclamation. — Exclamation is the expression of emotion, whether pleasant" or painful. Wlien the emotion is sincere, this figure gives liveliness to the style ; but when feeling is wanting, it renders the style tnsjA. Like an expression of 118 STYLE. Sec. 62 passionate feeling, it should not occur too frequently, and should be brief. Ex. — "Oh tlie deptli of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!" "How is tlie gold become dim! how is tlie most fine gold clianged!" "Oli what a revolution! and what a heart must I have to contemplate withont emotion that elevation and that fall!" 63. Hyperbole. — Hyperbole consists in magnifying an object beyond the bounds of what is actual or even possible. It is the natural expression of strong passion and emotion, and occurs more frequently in poetry than in prose. The rules for its use in serious prose are : 1. The objects must be great and unusual, capable of produc- ing extraordinary effects. Its use with common, trivial objects is unnatural. It betrays feebleness to be greatly excited by common, insignificant objects and events. 2. It should be brief and be used sparingly. The long con- tinuance and frequent repetition of such violent effects are exhausting. 3. It should not be introduced unless the imagination and feelings of the readers are prepared to admit it. 4. It should be new : the stereotyped exaggerations of ordi- nary conversation impart neither surprise nor pleasure. The hyperbole resembles the synecdoche, as it frequently gives, instead of the particular idea to be presented, a higher notion of the same class. The form of synecdoche which con- sists in giving an abstract quality of an object for the object itself, has the force of a hyperbole ; as, " He is goodness itself," " The hope of the family." Hyperboles are of more ft-equent occun-ence when a comic effect is intended ; as, " The English gain two hours a day by clipping words." The converse of the hyperbole is called Litotes, which gives emphasis to a notion by employing terms that convey less than the truth ; as, " Show thyself a man " (ex:hibit the noblest qualities of manhood). A common form of this figure is the denial of the opposite notion instead of a direct assertion. Sec. 64 FIGURES OF SPEECH. 119 Ex. — "And tlioii, Bethlehem in the land of Juda, art not ilie least among the princes of Juda" (one of the greatest). "An enemy not to be despised" (to be feared). "A work he need not he ashamed of" (proud of). Irony. — Irony is a figure in which the literal import of the words is the contrary of what is meant to be expressed. The writer seems to praise what is base and foolish, and in doing so sets forth the contrast between the real character of the object and what is said of it. When skillfully employed it has great force, and has the additional advantage of not affording any handle to an opponent. It has the disadvantage of being very liable to be misunderstood : in oral discourse the meaning may be suggested by the manner of speaking ; in written discom-se, in which this aid is wanting, great care is requisite to make it apparent that the opposite of what is said is intended. An- other disadvantage is, that it is personal, and exhibits those against whom it is directed in a ridiculous light. As it thus serves chiefly to expose and humiliate, it must be used with great moderation and discretion ; when it fails of its purpose, it almost invariably creates a prejudice against the one who employs it. 64. Climax.-;-Climax is the arrangement of the several no- tions or thoughts of a sentence in a graduated series, according to their relative importance. Each member of the series makes a stronger impression than the member immediately preceding it. By this means the attention is excited, and the main thought is exhibited in the clearest light. That the climax may ac- complish its purpose, the gradation of thought must be real and easily recognized, and the progi'ess from the lower to the higher must be continuous. When it becomes artificial, its effective- ness is destroyed. The inversion of this order is called Anticlimax ; it is allow- able in comic writings, but is a fault in serious discom-se. Ex. — " It is an outrage to Wnd a Roman citizen ; to scourge liim is an atrocious crime; to put him to death is almost parricide; but to crucify liiin— what shall I call it?" 120 ' STYLE. Sec. 65 65. Antithesis. — As in climax the importance of a thought is exliibited by connecting it with its inferiors, so in antithesis a notion is illustrated by being brought into comparison with its opposite. Opposites when brought together reflect light npon each other. The notion is deteraiined more precisely ; the particular characteristics or marks to which the attention is directed are brought out more vividly. When the opposition of thought is made apparent by the structui-e of the sentence, it is called Antithesis. It is a brilliant and dangerous figure. There must always be a real opposition of thought; merely verbal antithesis, in which there is an opposition in language without any in thought, is always offensive. It is not suited to the expression of strong passion, and is better fitted for lighter kinds of com- position. It may, however, be employed occasionally with effect in the higher forms of prose. The frequent recurrence of it gives to a discourse the appearance of artifice and affecta- tion. Ex. — "Like tlie sun, it (the understanding) had both light and agility; it knew no rest, but in motion ; no quiet, but in activity. It did not so properly apprehend, as irradiate the object ; not so much find, as make things intelligible.'' South. " When an author is yet living, we estimate his powers by his worst performance ; and when he is dead, we rate them by his best." "My strength hath been my ruin, and my fall my stay." " Whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it." " Never, never more shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud sulnnission, that dignified obedience, that suboi'dination of the heart, which kept alive even in sen-itude itself the spirit of an exalted freedom." Sec. 66 THE SENTENCE, 121 CHAPTEE IV. THE SENTENCE, 66. In the preceding chapters, words have been considered simply as the signs of separate notions ; we have now to con- sider them as combined to form sentences. Sentence defined,— -A sentence is a combination of words expressing a single, complete thought. To constitute a sen- tence there are required (1) two notions^the one, that which is determined and qualified, called the Subject-^the other, that which determines and qualifies, called the Predicate ; and (2) the Copula, which affirms or denies the relation between the subject and predicate. Division of Sentences.^Sentences are divided according to various principles. The classes to which reference is most fre- quently made in rhetoric and criticism are the tbllowing: 1. Intellective and FoZiiit'e.— ^Intellective sentences include propositions, Avhich enunciate a judgment either categorically or conditionally, and interrogative sentences, which are the expressions of ignorance or doubt. Volitive sentences include such as express an emotion with its exciting cause, desire and aversion with their objects, or an act of the will. 2. Simple and Compound. — A simple sentence is the ex- plicit assertion of a single main thought without any coordinate or subordinate sentences. It contains but a single subject and predicate, both of which may be expanded by the addition of qualifying words. A compound sentence consists of two or more simple sentences so combined as to express a single judg- ment. It is of two forms ; there may be one principal sentence with other sentences subordinate to it, or the sentences may be coordinate. 3. Loose Sentence and Period. — ^In a loose sentence the parts are so connected that the construction will yield a com- Rhet. 11 122 STYLE. Sec. 66 plete sense at some point before the close. Thus, in the fol- lowing example, there are several points where the reader may pause and have a complete thought : "The only light of every truth is its corresponding error; | and, there- fore, in the contemplation and exhibition of truth, a philosopher should take especial care not to keep himself too loftily aloof from the contempla- tion and exhibition of error, | as these proud spirits, Plato, Spinoza, Leib- nitz, and Hegel most undoubtedly did, | much to the detriment of their own profound disquisitions, | and to the loss of mankind, | who, had tlieir method been different, might have profited more largely by their wisdom.'' The parts of a loose sentence are not entirely independent of each other; if they were, Ave should have a series of distinct sentences. From the example it will be seen that while the words preceding a stop form a sentence gi-ammatically perfect, those that follow do not, but depend on what goes before. A period is a complex sentence the members of which are so reciprocally dependent that no one of them by itself gives a complete sense ; they remain suspended in the mind until the whole is finished, when the meaning is flashed back from the conclusion to the commencement. Ex. — "As for Jonson, to whose character I am now arrived, if we look upon liini while he was himself (for his last plays were but his dotages), I thiuk him the most learned and judicious vn-iter which any theater ever had." " If grammar is learned by speaking and writing ; if a man can not become an orator without repeated efforts to speak in public, nor a poet without practicing the mechanism of verse till he can use it « ith case, it seems absurd to expect that a course of lectures heard, with a string of definitious learned, will make a logician." 67. Characteristics of the English Sentence. — Every lan- guage has its peculiar laws and forms for the collocation of words ; the sum of these syntactical forms and usages consti- tutes what is called the idiom of the language. The peculiarities of the sentence gi'ow out of the general character of the language. The most important division of languages, so far as rhetoric is concerned, is into inflected and Sec. 67 THE SENTE>XE. 1^3 uninflected. In inflected languages the relations of the words to each other in the sentence are indicated by modifications of their form — by terminal syllables, which once had a signifi- cance, but have lost it, and serve merely to denote the relations of number, case, person, mode, tense, etc. Uninflected lan- guages are not provided with a complete set of inflections, and the relations of words in the sentence are indicated by their position and by means of particles. The ancient languages were inflected. The tendency of the modem is to discard more and more the inflections they stUl retain. From the circumstances of its history, this tendency has been carried further in the English than in any other Eu- ropean language. The Anglo-Saxon had a tolerably complete system of inflections, but the revolutions through which our tongue has passed have deprived it of most of them. As con- sequences of this loss we find that our language has a large body of particles, which are indispensable to the construction of sentences of any length ; that there is a prescribed order of an-anging words in a sentence ; and that this order is ^\hat is called the gi'ammatical, — the nominative precedes the verb, the article and adjective precede the nominative, the objective fol- lows the xcrh. As some of the peculiarities of the English sentence, may be mentioned : 1. In order to understand a sentence, we are compelled to look not to the form of the words but to their meaning. Tlie relation of the words is determined by the relation of the thoughts. The logical analysis of the sentence thus precedes the gi'ammatical. While in the classical languages the atten- tion is directed mainly to the terminal syllables in order to dis- cover the relation of the words, in English it is dii-ected to discovering the ideas which they signify. It is on this account that, as Marsh thinks, " the construction and comprehension of an English sentence demand and suppose the exercise of higher mental powers than are requu'ed for the framing or understand- ing of a proposition in Latin." 2. There is a greater liability in long sentences to equivoca- 124 STYLE. Sec. 67 tion. It is difficult to frame a long sentence in English which is not at least gi-ammatically ambiguous. 3. The relations which are expressed in the inflected lan- guages by the form of the words, are expressed in English by particles, which are syllables with no meaning of their own. They increase the number of words necessary to convey a thought, and often encumber the sentence and destroy its force and harmony. We are also often compelled to resort to awk- ward compound expressions. i. Inversion is admissible only to a limited extent, and there is consequently often a want of harmony between the order of the words and the natural order of tliought. We are often not able to give to the emphatic word the emphatic place. 5. The periodic structure is not adapted to the language, owing to the absence of the aids to attention given by inflec- tional endings, and to the limited extent to ^^■hich inversions and transpositions are possible. 6. There is a greater UabiUty to a unifonn, monotonous structure. / , 7. The language presents fewer difficulties ; the range of errors in syntax is a contracted one. But this less liability to error leads to carelessness : among English writers, more than among those of any other modem nation, there prevails gi'oss negligence of the laws of syntax. The peculiarity of the Eng- lish sentence already mentioned, that the attention is fixed chiefly upon the ideas and the words representing them, seems to confirm the tendency to disregard the few syntactical laws which om* language yet retains. 68. The Structure of Sentences. — ^The mental processes in- volved in combining notions into thoughts expressed in sen- tences, are identical in nature with those employed in building up thoughts into paragraphs and connected discourses. In the construction of sentences, then, the general laws of thought and style appear in their most elementary form. The qualities essential to a perfect sentence are, Correctness, Unity, Clearness, Precision, Energy, Melody. Sec. 69 THE SENTENCE. 125 69. Correctness. — The most elementaiy rule for the stract- ure of sentences is that the collocation of words shall confonii to the laws of syntax. Grammatical coiTectness is the neces- sary condition of the other gi'aces of expression, and although in itself not a great virtue, the want of it is a gi'eat fault. Violations of grammatical propriety are frequent even among the best English writers. The simplicity of the structure of the language is one occasion of this ; a writer can make him- self understood with but little labor, and at the same time the fewness of forms tends to produce carelessness in using them. The enumeration and classification of the violations of cor- rectness are gi\en in the grammars under the head of syntax. Only a few of the most frequent need be mentioned, to call attention to the points in which writers are most liable to error. 1. Many mistakes occur in the use of pronouns. Especial caution is needed in employing the pronoun it. "Never," says Cobbett, "put an it upon paper without thinking well what you are about. "When I see many its in a page, I always tremble for the writer." The relative pronouns are also very often used improperly. Ex. — " Let me sec, who do I know among tliem." " Precision imports pruning the expression so as to exliibit neitlier more nor less than an exact copy of his idea who uses it." "It is me." "Robert is there, the very outcome of liim, and indeed of many generations of sucli as him." " lie thus succeeded in at last combating the revolution witli ila own weapons, and at the same time detaching from them tlie moral weakness under wl)ieli )'( labored. He met (( with ils own forces; but ho rested their efforts on a nobler principle." 2. jMistakes in the use of verbs are of various kinds, as in the indiscriminate use of singulars and plurals, confounding preter- ites with past participles, employing the strong conjugation for the weak, or the weak for the strong, the omission of a part of a compound tense, the use of the wrong auxiliary, etc. Ex. — "The poetry and eloquence of the Augustan age was assiduously cultivated in Mercian and Northumbrian monasteries," " It was one of 126 STYLE. Sec. 69 the most important alliancee tliat ever teas formed." " The use of fraud aud perfidy, of cruelty and injustice, wei-e often subservient to the propa- gation of the faith." "At present trade is thought to be in a depressed state if less than a million of tons are produced in a year." " He bowls along with ease in a vehicle whicli a few centuries ago would have been broken to pieces in a deep rut, or come to giief iu a bot- tomless swamp." " I shall do all I can to persuade others to take the same measures for their cure which I have." 3. Other inaccuracies are found in the use of the degrees of comparison ; as, " That style of warfare is, of all others, the most barbarous"; — in the use of than; as, "To reconstruct sucli a work in another language were business for a man of different powers than has yet attempted Gennan translation among us." Remark. — The student will find a, more complete enumeration of prevalent offenses against correctness in Breen's Modern English Litera- ture, from which most of the examples given above have been taken. The law of correctness must not be pressed so far as to ex- clude forms of expression which, though sanctioned by usage, are deviations from the syntax of the language. These depart- ures froin strict grammatical law abound in every language, and are called Idiotisms. Frequently, also, we find a thought expressed in a condensed, energetic form that will not stand the test of gi-ammatical analysis ; as, " Truth, like a torch, the more it's shook it shines." To reduce such expressions to grammatical correctness would destroy their force. 70. Unity. — A sentence has unity when it is the expression of one leading thought, and all the particulars contained in it are exhibited in their relation to this main thought- and to each other. This is an essential quality of a sentence. However long and complex it may be, it must set forth but one main thought, to which all the notions and judgments are subordinate. Sec. 70 THE SENTENCE. 127 Unity is violated: — 1. By bringing into grammatical connection thoughts whicli have no real nor logical connection. Such heterogeneous mat- ter can -not be reduced to the unity of a single judgment, and should therefore be expressed in separate sentences. Ex. — "His own notions were always good; hut lie was a man of great, expense." "Arelibisliop Tillotson died tills year. -He was exceedingly beloved both by King William and Qnceu Maiy, who nominated Dr. Tennison, Bishop of Lincoln, to succeed him." " In this uneasy state both of his public and pvivate life, Cicero was oppressed by a new and cruel affliction, the death of his beloved Tullia, which happened soon after her divorce from Dolabella, whose manners and humors weiv eiiiireli/ disagreable to her." The artificial union of inconginious or repugnant ideas may be considered as a violation of this rule. It is admissible for comic effect, but ought to be avoided in serious composition. Ex. — "On evei-y side they rose in multitudes, armed\\\t\\ rustic icrapoiis and with irresistible fury." "Sexmrated by mountains and by mutual fear." " To one so gifted with the prodigality of Heaven, can we approach in any other attitude than of pi'ostratiouf" "Of the nineteen tyrants who started up under the reign of Gallienus, there was not one who enjoyed a life of peace or a natural death." 2. By what is called shifting the scene of a sentence. The rule laid down by Kames, and repeated by all writers upon Rhetoric who have followed him, is liable to be misunderstood: " During the course of a period the scene ought to be continued without variation ; the changing fi-om person to person, from subject to subject, or fi-om person to subject, within the bounds of a single period, distracts the mind, and affords no time for a solid impression." This nmst not be interpreted as meaning that the same subject must be retained throughout an entire sentence. The fault intended to be pointed out is that of con- necting with a main proposition a series of accessory proposi- tions, in which the succeeding one is subordinated to the one 128 STYLE. Sec. 70 tliat immediately precedes it. This structure Tiolates the unity of the sentence. There is no compact statement of a distinct thought, but a rapid enumeration of particulars, a constant transition from a higher to a subordinate thought. The end of such a process must be entirely arbitrary ; and in many cases no connection can be discovered between the thought with which the sentence begins and that with which it closes. Ex. — "After we came to anchor, they put me ashore, where I was wel- comed by all my friends, who received me with the greatest kindness." "After a short time he came to himself; and tlie next day they put him on board his ship, wliioli cojiveyed him first to Corinth.'' "To the memory of Lord George Bentinck, second surviving son of William ?Ienry Cavendish Scott, whose ardent patriotism and uncompro- mising honesty wt-re only equaled by the persevering zeal and extraor- dinary talents, which called forth the grateful homage of those who, in erecting this memorial, pay a heartfelt tribute to exertions which prema- turely brought to the grave one who might long have lived the pride of his native country." 3. By attaching to a sentence already complete, a clause which ought to have been inserted in the body of the sentence. Such appendages, presenting themselves to the reader when he supposes that the sentence is already finished, invariably pro- duce a disagreeable effect. He is compelled to take to pieces the thought which he has built up, and to incorporate into it the new elements given in the supplementary clause, and in doing so he often finds that the sentence obtains an entirely different meaning. Where the waste of attention is not so great, there is still a violation of unity by putting a merely ac- cessory circumstance in an emphatic position, thus destroying the distinction between the main and subordinate members of the sentence. Ex. — " The French idea of liberty is the right of every man to be mas- ter of the rest ; in practice at least, if not in theory." In this sentence, the subordinate clause, beginning with "in practice," is an essential but subordinate part of the statement, and should be placed wli. 're it will contribute to build up the entire thought ; thus, " Whatever it n-ay be in theory, it is clear that in practice the French idea of liberty is, tve right of every man to be master of the rest." Sec. 70 THE SENTENCE. 129 4. By the improper use of parentheses. Parentheses are words and clauses which have no grammatical connection with any members of the sentence, and may be omitted without att'ecting its meaning. Their use is sometimes unavoidable; they often give emphasis to a word or clause, contain an ex- planation, or suggest important relations of a thought which however do not enter into its development. But great caution is needed in using them. They are not organic parts of the sentence, and are apt to withdraw attention fi'om the main thought, and to interrupt its harmonious development. Their frequent use is an indication of the want of thorough mastery of the idea to be expressed. Many that are met with could be rejected as useless, and otliei's, by a little care, could be worked into the fabric of the sentence. Parenthetic marks should not be inserted where there is no parenthesis ; as in these : "Any two cireumstances (not naturally connected) are more rarely to be met with." " The distribution of the predicate depends (not on the quantity, but) on the quality of the proposition.'' It is a graver abuse to make them^ a means towards conceal- ing a faulty construction ; as in this example : "Our ancestors founded certain great schools (that now i-ear the nobles, the gentry, and the merchants) for the benefit of the poor." If the parenthetic marks are removed, the statement will be, that the schools rear the nobles, the gentry, and the merchants for the benefit of the poor. A parenthesis should include nothing by the omission of which the sense of the proposition is left incomplete ; as in this example : " In Ben Jonson's ' Tale of a Tub,' one (and more than one of the characters) speaks thus." 130 STYLE. Sec. 70 Parentheses that involve grammatical blunders, or contain other parentheses iil them, or are composed of long and com- plex sentences, should be avoided. Ex. — "Hume's Natui-al Religion called forth Dr. Beattie's (author of the Minstrel) able work." " When this parliament sat down (for it deserves our particular obser- vation that both houses were full of zeal for the present government and of resentment against the late usurpation), there was but one party in parliament." 71. Clearness. — A sentence is clear v?hen it expresses the exact thought of the writer and is understood without any un^ "necessary etfort. The want of clearness may originate either in the thought or in the expression. A confused thinker may combine contra- dictory notions or such as stand in no perceivable relation to each other, and thus become unintelligible. On the other hand, the relations between thoughts may be real and impor- tant, but difficult to apprehend ; in this case the difficulty lies in the thought, and is not to be regarded as a fault. We are concerned here with violations of clearness or per- spicuity occasioned by the improper collocation of words. Of these there are several forms : 1. The sentence may convey no meaning. 2. The sentence may convey a wrong meaning. The words taken in their grammatical connection suggest a different sense from that which the writer wishes to express. He says one thing wliile meaning another. The mistake may be very soon corrected; the suggested meaning may at once be seen to be absurd or not suited to the context. But as comparison and reflection were required to conect the error, the attention is drawn from the main thought, and the force of the presentation is weakened. 3. The sentence may be ambiguous; that is, it may be sus- ceptible of two or more interpretations, and may leave us in doubt whidi is to be preferred. Tiie real ambiguities here spoken of must be distinguished from the so-called grammatical Sec. 71 THE SENTENCE. 331 , ambiguities. There are few long sentences which hy a little ingenuity can not be made to yield a double meaning. \ writer is not expected to guard against such latent ambiguities. It is enough that the sentence be so fi-amed that it can not be misunderstood by a candid and intelligent reader. 4. The sentence may want simplicity. It is not sufficient that we can at last discover its meaning by re-reading it, ana- lyzing it, and comparing it with the context ; the sense should unfold gradually before us, and be exhibited in the clearest light as soon as the sentence is finished. The most frequent occasions of the want of clearness are the following : 1. The unnatural separation of related words. As in Eng- lish the relation of words is indicated by theu' position, qualify- ing words should be placed as near as practicable to the words they are intended to qualify. The following are instances of the wrong position of adjectives, adverbs, and adverbial phrases : "Qoi lieapetli fa^'ovs on his sevvants ever liberal and faitliful." Tlie construction is ambiguous, as the adjectives may qualify cither God or servants. " The salt merchants, the grocers, the confectioners conspired together to adulterate the articles in which they dealt in a thousand ways." The adverbial pln-ase, "in a thousand ways," should be joined to the verb adulterate. " There is a copy in the British Museum ; and M. Raynouard has given a short account of one that he had seen in the Journal des Savaiis for 1826." " In the Journal," etc., qualifies " has given." Wrong position of cases : "Do they call virtue there forgetfulness?" The writer intends to ask, Do they call forgetfulness virtue ? The opposite is expressed. " The ris- ing tomb a lofty column bore." 2. The double reference of a phrase. "A circumstance ought not to be placed between two capital members of a period ; for by such a situation it is doubtful to which of the 132 STYLE. Sec, 71 two members it belongs. In general, to preserve members distinct, that signify tilings distinguished in thought, the best method is to place first in the consequent member some word that can not connect with what precedes it." Kames. Ex. — " Hence lie considered marriage with a modern pohtical econo- mist as very dangerous," instead of " Hence lie, with a modern political economist," etc. " The minister who grows less by his elevation, like a little statue on a mighty pedestal, will always have his jealousy strong about him." " When I hear a person use a queer expression, or pronounce a name in reading differently from his neighbors, it always goes down in my esti- mate of him, with a minus sign before it." 3. The improper position of the limitative and exceptive par- ticles, such as only, alone, just, merely, at least. " Not only Jesuits can equivocate," means others besides the Jesuits can equivocate. " Jesuits can not only equivocate," means Jesuits can equivocate and do other things besides. The force of the particle varies with its position. In logiciil language, Avhen it is annexed to the subject of the sentence, it distributes the predicate and limits it to the subject alone ; as, Only men, or men alone, are philosophers ^ All pliilosophers are men. Annexed to the predicate, it limits the subject to the predicate, without quantifying the predicate or excluding it from other subjects ; as, " Jesuits can only equivocate " = It is all that they can do, although others also may do the same. The fol- lowing examples can be tested and corrected by this rule : "One species of bread, of coarse quality, was only allowed to be baked ;" i. v., allowed and nothing more. " Tlu'isra can only be opposed to polytheism or atheism." " Hy greatness, I do not only mean the bulk of any single object, but the largeness of a whole view." 4. The frequent repetition of pronouns in a sentence in which several persons or things are spoken of, frequently causes am- biguity. It is better, in such cases, to change the construction or repeat the noun. Sec. 71 THE SENTENCE. 133 Ex. — "Two other words occur to me which are Tcry commonly man- gled by our clergy. One of these is ' covetous ' and its substantive covct- ousness. I hope some who read these lines will be induced to leave off pronouncing them covetious and covetioijsuess. I can assnre them that when they do thus call them one at least of their hearers has his apprecia- tion of their teaching disturbed." 5. The uncertain or AVTong reference of pronouns, both de- monstrative and relative. Ex. — " No one as yet had exhibited the structure of the hnman kidneys, Vesalius having only examined them in dogs." Note also thelvrong posi- tion of only. " The professor soon perceived, however, that the intellectual qitalities of the youth were superior to those of his raiment." " It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves against the accidents of life by heaping up treasures, which nothing can protect us against but the good jirovidence of God." The relative should be placed as iLear as possible to its antecedent. In the sentence quoted the relative refers not to treas- ures, but to accidents. "A verdict was obtained against him (Wilkes) for No. 45 (of The North Briton), as well as for a piece called An Essay on Woman, an obscene and scurrilous libel In parody of Pope's Essay on Man, in which Lord Sandwich and Bishop Warburton had been reflected on and ridiculed." The relative refers to An Essay on Woman, and not, as from the arrange- ment would !)(' naturally supposed, to Pope's Essay on Man. "The Earl ofFahnoutli and Jlr. Coventry were rivals uho should have - most influence with the duke, icho loved the earl best, but thought the other the wiser man, who supported Pen, who disobliged all the courtiers, even against the earl, who contemned Pen as a fellow of no sense." " By the pleasures of imagination or of fancy (which I shall use pro- miscuously), I here mean such as arise from visible objects." The leal antecedent is not expressed, viz., words. As it stands, the natural refer- ence is to pleasures. " I know that all words which are signs of complex ideas furnish mat- ter of mistake and cavil." The ambiguity of this sentence arises from our not knowing whether the relative clause is intended to limit its antece- dent, words, or simply to explain it. Is it meant that all words are signs of complex ideas, or that there is a certain class significant of complex ideas? In the former ease, the relative is expheative ; in the latter, de- terminative. This distinction is an important one, and should be borne in mind. Observe the difference in these sentences : " It is possible to express a 134 STYLE. Sec. 71 general truth in terms tltat shall be themselves highly concrete." The relative is determinative (in highly conci'ete terms). " Subordinate clauses, ivliich must not by their length overwhelm the principal clause." Relative is explicative (and they must not, etc.) "The court opposed, which was anticipated." "In narration, Homer is at all times concise, which renders him lively and agieeable." The I'filative should not, as in the last two examples, have a sentence as its antecedent. 6. The equivocal signification of many of the conjunctions. The conjunction or particularly is equivocal. It may mean either, that the two notions are identical ; as when I say, no- tion or concept, rhetoric or the theory of prose : or that they are different ; as, logic or rhetoric, history or philosophy. 7. The improper omission of words. ElUpsis may be canied too far and words be omitted so as to alter the meaning of the sentence or render it unintelligible. Ex. — ^The omission of a preposition. " You will seldom find a dull fellow of good education but (if he happen to have any leisure on his hands) will turn his head to one of those two amusements for all fools of eminence, politics or poetry.'' Insert to before the words politics and poetry. Omission of a nominative with its verb. " South, as great a wit as a preacher, has separated the superior and the domestic." Insert fee was between as and a preacher. Nominative without a verb. " The Germans of the present day, although greatly superior to their ancestors, there are who opine that they are still distant from that acme of taste which characterizes the finished compositions of the French and the English authors." The article omitted before adjectives connected with the same noun when the design is to express qualities of different objects, and not differ- ent qualities of the same object. "A cold and empty composition" means one composition that is both cold and empty. "A cold and an empty composition " means two compositions, one cold, Sec. 71 ■ THE SENTENCE. 135 the other empty. When distinct objects are intended, the article, if used before one adjective, must be repeated before tlie others. " The logical and historical analysis of a language generally, in some degree, coincides." Two distinct kinds of analysis are spoken of. Tlie article should be repeated before historical, and the verb be put in the plural. A compound sentence may be free fi'om the faults just men- tioned and still be deficient in clearness. Too many ideas may be crowded into it ; and the reader, not being able to retain all of them in his memory, loses the connection, and is obliged to read the sentence over in order to comprehend it. More fre- quently the obscurity arises from the want of method in distrib- uting the materials. It often requires gi'eat skill to dispose the parts of a complicated thought. The great object is to avoid burdening the memory with a number of disconnected circum- stances, and to present the parts in such an order as will enable the reader to understand them as they are presented, to retain them in his mind, and to bind them together readily into one whole. To accomplish this we must avoid throwing together loosely a number of details. When it is necessaiy to admit them, they should be distributed among the members of the sentence. By this means the sentence is made more coherent and compact, and is more easily understood. The effects of a want of proper disposition can be seen in the following example : "And that it was not peculiar to the gift of language or tongues only, to be given at the moment of its exertion, but common likewise to all tin- rest, will be shown probably on some other occasion more at large in a particular treatise, which is already prepared by me on that subject." A too frequent or a too prolonged suspension of the sense is fatal to clearness. It sometimes favors clearness and force to introduce the qualifying circumstances first, reserving the prin- cipal member until the last. But the use of this construction is limited. When many qualifications are mentioned that are not intelligible until the qualified member is discovered, the suspense in which the mind is kept is painful, and soon breaks 136 STYLE. Sec. 71 down the power of atteHlion. The mind can not carry so many disconnected statements, nor connect them so as to discover their meaning. An accumulation of negatives is another occasion of obscu- rity. The same thought may be expressed in an affirmative proposition and in a negative ; as, " I entertain a favorable opinion of him," and, " I entertain a not unfavorable opinion of him." The latter is called by Hamilton, an indirect and idle way of speaking. When many negatives are accumulated, the sentence is often unintelligible. Ex. — " It is not to be deuied that a high degi'ee of beavity does not lie in simple forms." "As a general maxim, no epithet should be used which does not ex- press something not expressed in the context, nor so implied in it as to be immediately deducible." 72. Precision. — Precision is ttie opposite of redundancy. It consists in rejecting all superfluous words and phrases. Su- perfluous words and plu-ases are those which are not necessary to complete the thought, to set it in a clearer light, or to pro- mote the end of the discourse. Precision is an essential quality of a well constructed sentence ; words that add nothing to the sense detract from the clearness and force of the expression. Like perspicuity, it is a relative quality ; the same degree of brevity is not adapted to all kinds of discourse. Before we can decide what words are superfluous and what are not, we must consider the nature and aim of the discourse, and the condition of those to whom it is addressed. The principal offenses against precision are : 1. Tautology, or the unnecessary repetition of a notion in different terms. The most common form of this fault is the coupling of synonyms. Writers frequently become so accus- tomed to linking together such words that when we meet with one of them we expect the other. This is sometimes the result of ignorance of the full meaning of the words, and sometimes of an effort to secure greater clearness and precision. Such Sec. 72 THE SENTENCE. 137 expression.s as, " plain and evident," -'clear and obvious," "joy and satisfaction," " intents and purposes," and others which the student will recollect, are of frequent occurrence. The employ- ment of these stereotyped and unmeaning modes of speech is an offense not only against perspicuity and precision of style, but also against the standard of good taste. It must be distin- guished from the combining of synonymous tenns with a view to completeness. Ex. — " Particulavly as to the affairs of this world, integi-ity hath many advantages over allnine andjartificial ways of dissimulation and deceitk it is mucli the ^lainer'and J easier, mucli the safer^nd more seciui way of dealing with the woiid; it has less of trouble 6nd difficult^ of entangle- ment and perplexityj of dangei/aud hazard jft it." 2. Pleonasm, or the insertion of words designating notions that are already sufficiently implied in other words of the sen- tence. There are various fm-ms of this fault. Many phrases are pleonastic ; as, " in so far as," " from whence." Expletives, as, do, did, there, are often redundant. They are not always to be struck out ; they sometimes serve to mark light shades of meaning, to express feeling, and to give empha- sis. Many epithets are pleonastic ;. as, " the verdant green," " the azure sky." In the religious dialect many pleonastic ex- pressions taken from Scripture are used, which are not admis- sible into ordinary prose ; as, " We have heard with our ears," "we have seen with our eyes," "the birds of the air," "the fish of the sea." The nature of this fault and some of its most common forms will be learned fi-om the following examples : " We ai-e to act np to the extent of our knowledge ; but, in so far as our knowledge falls short," etc. " They returned back again to the same city /ram whence they came forth." " Hence has ensued an entire change in our telwle domestic policy." " The Inquisition arrested the progress of general intellectual advance- ment," "TheieAoJe sum total of infoi-mation." "A cimos of confusion." Rhet. 12 138 STYLE. Sec. 72 " Trifling minutiae of style." " The universal love of all men." "His eiioits were necessarily confined anly to remonstrance and ex- hortation." 3. Verbosity, or unnecessary diffuseness. The words may be neither tautological nor pleonastic, but there may be too many of them. The other offenses against brevity may be cor- rected by striking out the unmeaning words ; but to coirect this fault it is often necessary to alter the structm-e of the sen- tence — to compress as well as to blot. Verbosity is generally connected with prolixity, which means the introduction of unimportant circumstances, or such as the reader can readily supply from his own knowledge or fi'om the context. It is necessary for the writer to be so completely master of the thought he would express, that he can distinguish between what is relevant and what is iiTelevant ; and to exer- cise a wise self-control, so as not to be led astray by the desire to say all that he might say upon the subject. He must leave something to the reader's activity of mind. Circumlocution is often a species of verbosity. A length- ened, round-about mode of speech is allowable for the sake of variety or emphasis, or when a direct assertion might be offen- sive ; but when none of these ends is accomplished, it is feeble and affected. A profusion of adjectives is another form of verbosity. The use of epithets has already been considered; besides these, many expressions are current, which are supposed to give dig- nity and solemnity to the style, but which, as they have ceased to be any thing but meaningless ornaments, should be rejected. Instances will be found iq letters of condolence, resolutions of sympathy, etc. The Paraphrase fi-equently degenerates into verbosity. Its aim is by expanding what is too concisely expressed to give gi-eater perspicuity to the style ; but it too generally obscures and enfeebles by an excess of words. The brevity that has just been described is distinct from that form of conciseness which expresses the gi-eatest amount of Sec. 73 THE SENTENCE. 139 thought in the fewest possible words. This laconic style is very energetic, presenting thoughts in a form that arouses the atten- tion and fixes them in the memory. It makes free use of ellip- ses and figures ; even gi-ammatical improprieties are allowed ; as in this instance — "Truth, like a torch, the more it's shook it shines." But such energetic brevity is not an essential quality of style: it is suited to proverbfe, epigrams, detached thoughts, sentences, and the like ; but its fi-equent use in con- tinuous discourse is a fault. It makes the style obscm-e, frag- mentary, and unnatural. 73. Energy. — The qualities mentioned in the preceding sec- tions are all necessary conditions of strength. A weighty thought when enunciated with clearness and precision can not fail to impress the mind of the reader. There are additional means towards the same end which are to be mentioned here. 1. Inversion. — According to the English idiom, the subject precedes the predicate, the object follows the verb, and qualify- ing words are placed as near as practicable to the words quali- fied. This aiTangement is observed so long as the natural order of thought coincides with the grammatical ; that is, so long as the grammatically important words are identical with the logically important. This is not always the case. It often happens that a word occupying an inferior position is the most prominent one in the thought, and the one to which the writer is specially desirous to direct attention. A speaker can ei!'ect_ this by emphasizing the word ; a writer, by such a collocation of words as will gi\e the notion a conspicuous place in the sen- tence. The gi-aramatical succession is changed ; the word to be emphasized is taken out of the position assigned it by the rules of syntax, and put in one in which it will attract atten- tion. There is thus a conflict between the syntactical order and the natural order of thought and feeling ; to express suit- ably the latter, the former is violated. Such a departure fl'om the strictly idiomatic arrangement of the members of a sen- tence for the sake of emphasis is called Tnrernion. 140 STYLE. Sec. 73 Owing to the loss of inflectional forms, inversion is possible only to a limited extent in the English language. Our older writers, in imitation of classical models, allowed themselves a great deal of liberty in using it ; they sometimes, by this means, gave great strength and harmony to their style, but more fi'e- quently they rendered it stiff and obscure. Although the lib- erty of position is greatly abridged, we still have within limits the power of indicating, by the structure of the sentence, the emphatic word. The principal forms of inversion allowed are : — The predi- cate (adjective, noun) may take the place of the subject ; as, "Few and evil have tlie days of the years of my life been." "And the rain descended, and the floods came, and tlie winds blew, and beat upon that house : and it fell, and gfeat was the fall of it." " Nabal is his name and folly is with him." The verb precedes its subject ; as, " Then burst his mighty heart." " Then suddenly would come a dream of far different character." The object (accusative) precedes the governing verb ; as, " Silver and gold have I none." " Me he restored unto mine office, him he hanged." Adverbs of time, place, manner, and adverbial phrases are separated from the words they qualify and placed before them ; as, . % " In the integrity of my heart have I done this." " Into these dreams only it was, with one or two slight exceptions, that any circumstances of physical horror entered. All before had been moral and spiritual terrors. But here the main agents were ugly birds," etc. Infinitives and participles are placed before the auxilifiry verb; as, "Go I must." "Avoid it I can not." " Blessed is he that considereth the poor." Sec. 73 THE SENTENCE. 141 In the foUowing example we have an inversion of an inter- rogative sentence : "Your fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live for- ever?" To effect an alteration in the arrangement of a sentence, the words it and there are often employed, which serve to place the subject after the verb ; as, — " There appeared unto them Moses and Elias." Compare these three sentences : "Cicero praised Caesar." " It was Cicero that praised Caesar." "It was Caesar that Cicero praised." Inversion should not be employed except in compliance with some necessity of thought or passion. To use it for its o\\n sake, when strong emphasis is not required, is unnatural and often ludicrous. The following are instances of such trivial inversions : " Into this hole thrust themselves three Roman senators." " War at that time there was none." It should not be admitted when it would lead to ambiguity or obscmity. It should be used moderately. Inversion is to written discourse what emphasis is to spoken; to emphasize every word produces the same effect as to emphasize none. The allowable forms of inversion are few, and a writer should not venture upon novelties in the collocation of words. He should especially exclude the idioms of foreign languages. 2. Connectives. — Asyndeton and Polysjmdeton. — The sti'ength of a sentence depends greatly on the proper use of con- nectives, i. e., of words having no signification of their own, whose office it is to indicate the relations of words and clauses. They are to the sentence what transitions are to the entire dis- course, and are subject to the same general laws. 142 STYLE. Sec. 73 The shortest should be 'chosen. Most of them are monosyl- lables, but many are polysyllables ; as, nevertheless, iiotwith- standing, furthermore. The length of the latter makes them too prominent, and attracts to them a disproportionate share of attention ; when it is possible, monosyllabic connectives should be substituted for them. The use of these di-awling conjunc- tions is characteristic of our older writers ; they are rare in good modern writers. In some cases it is conducive to energy to omit the signs of connection between the different members of a sentence, leav- ing the reader to supply them ; while in other cases it is neces- sary to give to every member its appropriate connective. The former construction is called Asyndeton; the latter, Polysyn- deton. Both make conspicuous the relations of the notions to each other and to the main thought of which they are parts ; but with this difference, that in asyndeton the individual no- tions of the series are separated from each other by a pause, and each is made emphatic; in polysyndeton, on the other hand, we enumerate the different members and call attention to their multiplicity, but by inserting the conjunctions between them, contrary to ordinary usage, we indicate that they are parts of a more comprehensive notion ; this notion it is, and not the separate parts, that is made prominent. Ex. — "Closing their shields, they were impelled, they fought, they slew, they were slain." " He was a cheerful, active, brave man, a kind father, a faithful friend." " For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present," etc. "Over every form, and threat, and punishment, and dim sightless incarceration, brooded a killing sense of eternity and infinity." 3. Periods and loose sentences. — The periodic structure promotes energy, as it preserves the unity of the sentence and concentrates its strength in a single point. But it has an arti- ficial appearance ; it is unfitted for some kinds of composition, and its frequent recurrence is always disagi-eeable. It is not easy, without more help than the English language furnishes, to enable readers to retain in their minds the members of a Sec. 73 THE SENTENCE. 143 complex thought, and at the close bind them easily and promptly into unity. To prevent obscurity and overtasking the attention, superfluous words and thoughts should be ex- cluded fi'om a period, and the members and clauses should be few and short. In arranging the clauses of the members, the same rule must be followed that governs the aiTangement of the members of the period ; the reader must not be led to suppose that the sentence is finished until it actually is so. When this rule is neglected, a period has the tediousness and feebleness of a badly constructed loose sentence. Iti the following example the periodic structure of the clauses is neg- lected : " Having already shown how the fancy is affected by the works of natury, and afterward considered, in general, botli the works of na- ture and of art, \\ how they mutually assist and complete each other || in forming such scenes and prospects as are most apt to delight the mind of the beholder, I shall in this paper throw together some reflections on tliat particular art which has," etc. Tlie second clause, beginning with the words "and afterward consid- ered " and ending at " beholder," is defective ; Campbell proposes the following alteration: "And a.fterward considered, in general, how in forming such scenes and prospects as are most apt to delight the mind of the beholder, the works both of nature and of art mutually assist and complete each other." A loose sentence is not necessarily deficient in energy. By a judicious choice and an-angement of words, the writer may keep the mind of the reader in suspense even in sentences that are gi'ammatically complete before their close. A sentence may thus be loose and yet have the force of a period. Still, loose sentences are very liable to degenerate into incoherenty and feebleness. To prevent these faults, the following cautions should be observed : 1. The sentences should not be too long. Long sentences are liable to vagueness and intricacy ; but even when otherwise faultless, they may become feeble from the- number and length of their parts ; the reader becomes impatient and is apt to rest at every pause that occurs. 2. The two modes of arrangement may be united in one sen- 144 STYLE. Sec. 73 tence ; the key word, not being kept back until the close, but introduced at a convenient point, while, at the same time, the clauses of the members are arranged according to the laws of the period. 3. A complex sentence is often tedious and di-agging from endhig with a much longer clause than it began with. By reyersing the order, the unpleasant effects are prevented. 4. Symmetry is conducive to energy. Eesemblance and contrast between thoughts should be marked by similarity of structure. When the relations of thoughts are thus indicated, by framing the members of the sentence in the same manner and of the same length, they are made more conspicuous, and the thought, by the repetition of the form, is impressed on the memory. The resemblance or opposition should be real. This balanced structure of the sentence is puerile when it does not spring from a necessity of thought. The following are instances of balanced structure : " He remits Lis splendor, but retains his magnitude ; and pleases more, though he dazzles less." " But, my lord, you may quit the field of business, though not the field of danger ; and though you can not be safe, you may cease to be ridiculous." The following are instances of the violation of the rule : "There may remain a suspicion that we overrate the greatness of his genius, in the sam^ manner as bodies appear more gigantic on account of their being disproportioned and misshapen." Better : — " in the same manner as we overrate the greatness of bodies that are disproportioned and mis- shapen." " If men of eminence are exposed to censure on the one hand, they are as mueh liable to flattery on the other. If they receive reproaches which are not due them, they likewise receive praises lohieh theij do not deaerve." Substitute for " liable," "exposed," and for " which tliey do not deserve," "which are not due." " The laughers will be for those who have most wit ; the serious part of mankind, for those who have most reason on their side." Better: — " the sexious, for those who have most reason on their side." Other emphatic verbal forms are given in the chapter on the Figures of Speech, sees. Cl-Gu. Sec. 74 THE SENTENCE. 145 74. Melody. — Prose, although not admitting of rhyme and meter, is susceptible of a melody which every writer should aim to attain. It is subordinate to the great ends of prose dis- course, and must not divert attention fifoiu the ideas to be pre- sented, nor be purchased at the cost of clearness and force. A vigorous roughness is to be preferred to a tame smoothness. But a conflict between the logical perfections of language and melody is of rarer occurence than most persons suppose. So intinuite is the connection between sound and sense, that if we have chosen the titting words, and connected our ideas accord- ing to both their main and their subordinate relations, our sen- tences will seldom offend the ear. Harmony and melody are not so much independent qualities, as the natural and necessary result of the conformity of language to thought and passion. Inharmonious sentences will generally be found to be deficient in con-ectness, clearness, precision, or energy ; when the logical defects are remedied the disagreeable roughness disappears. Some of the offenses against melody and harmony are : (1) Using words that are hard to pronounce ; such, for ex- ample, as contain a cumulation of consonants, or a succession of short unaccented syllables, or occasion a clash of vowels. (2) The frequent recun-ence of the same sound, either from the repetition of the same syllable or the admission of rhyming words. Ex. — " The rules of eniphasis come in hi interruption of your supposed general law of position. ' " Tljis day ue unierfake to render aecoinit to tlie widows and orpliaus wlioni our decision will make; to the wretches that will he roasted at the slake," etc. The effect is still worse when there is a recurrence of metrical feet, thus : " When parallel rays come contrary ways, and fall upon opposite sides." (3) Disproportionate length of one of the members of the sentence ; want of variety in the length and structure of the dift'erent members; want of symmetry when the thought re- quires it ; closing with an insignificant, unemphatic word. Rhet. IS 146 STYLE. Sec. 74 The following criticism (borrowed from Bain's Rhetoric) on a short sentence of Johnson's will snffice to illustrate tlie foregoing principles : "Johnson sa.vs : ' Tediousness is the most fatal of all faults.' The stiff- ness of this sentence is felt at once. On examination we note : . 1st. The want of melody in the word tediousness, from the crowd of consonants, and the iteration of s. ad. The additional hissing consonant in is (al- though the hard sound z). 3d. The concurrence of four unemphatic syl- lables in succession ; namely, the last two in tediousness and is the. 4th. The additional s in most. 5th. The concurrence of consonants at the end of mosJ and the beginning oi fatal; this can not always be avoided. 6th. The alliterations fata! aH, /atal /aults, all faults, make the last few words singularly unmelodious.'' (4) The repetition of certain words in close succession. This is a frequent oft'ense ; one fi'om which good authors are not alto- gether free, and which those who are compelled to write hastily seldom avoid. Ex. — "Guizot has embodied in his views a more extensive view of human affairs." "It soon appeared that these diplomatic courtesies meant more than appeared on the surface." " The few who regarded them in their true light were regarded as dreamers." " 'Wellington was anxious to be relieved of all anxiety in that quarter." " They consented to main- tain such troops in them as might be deemed necessary to maintain their tranquillity." " The proposal was no great violation of the liberties of the suhject, for it only proposed to subject military persons to the trial of their military superiors." CHAPTEE V. THE PARAGRAPH. 75. Paragraph defined. — In the foregoing chapter we hare treated of the rules for combining words and clauses into sen- tences. But sentences do not appear in a discourse as sepa- rate, independent enunciations of thought ; they are parts of a larger unity, each sustaining a definite relation to the one that Sec. 77 THE PAKAGEAPH. 147 precedes and the one that follows. A connected series of sen- tences containing the development of a single topic is called a Paragraph. 76. The structure of Paragraphs. — The general laws gov- erning the construction of a paragraph are the same as those governing the composition of an entire discourse. As it is a more or less full development of a cuuiplex thought, it may he regarded as a discourse in miniature, to which the same prin- ciples for preparing the theme, properly disposing the parts, and marking their connection are applicable, as are applied to an entire essay, oration, or treatise. The art of constructing them is not acquired without labor and patience. One may be skillful in fi-aniing sentences and not succeed in combining them into connected paragraphs. Exercises in constructing them, and in analyzing those of dif- ferent writers on different subjects, to leani their method of framing them, ought to have a prominent place in a rhetorical course. Such exercises are the most conAcuient means of ap- plying the general principles of style, and of cultivating correct habits of thinking and writing. Paragi'aphs are of diiferent kinds according to their matter ; they may be naiTative, descriptive, expository, or argumenta- tive. Hence they are subject to the special laws of the Ele- mentary Forms of Discourse (Part III). 77. The requisites of a paragraph are Unity, Continuity, Proportion, Variety. Unity. — This quality requires that a paragraph should have but a single theme ; that all the sentences should have a direct bearing on the theme, contiibuting to explain, illustrate, prove, or apply it ; that whatever is irrelevant be excluded ; and that it be not overloaded wit^ details. Continuity. — The exact relation of the constituent sentences to each other must be distinctly indicated. 148 STYLE. Sec. 77 The relations between the sentences may be of various liinds and of various degrees ; some of tlie sentences may be coordi- nate with tliose preceding ; some may be subordinate. But whatever the connection, ho^^■ever close or remote, it is indis- pensable to clearness and force that it be easily and certainly recognized. It will not suffice to present the details with clear- ness; the reader must understand their significance and bear- ings, and obtain without too gi'eat an effort a view of the entire structure of which they are parts. It is not always easy to comply with this rule. Accurate and often subtle thinking, and considerable practice in writing, are required to give facility in seizing the exact relations of thoughts and expressing them with clearness and accuracy. Careless and unpractieed writers often suggest, by the language they employ, connections of thought entirely different from those they intend, or leave the reader in doubt what is the con- nection to be expressed. Others, who are not guilty of so gi"oss faults, fail to discern and bring out the more delicate and subtle relations upon which the force and elegance of style greatly depend. / The connection between sentences is marked in various ' wiiys. 1. By conjunctions (copulativq, illative, adversative, etc.) and by conjunctional phrases {add to this, on the contrary, in short, to conclude, so far, etc.) With respect to the use of conjunctions and conjunctional phrases, it is to be remarked. First, that they are not always necessary. No rule can be given to dii-ect when to use and when to omit them. Our older authors used more conjunctions and used them more lavishly than is customary at the present day. They marked the minute relations of thoughts by different con- junctions, leaving nothing to the reader to supply, and thus made their style dragging and stiff. IThe tendency nowadays is to diminish the number of conjunctions by forcing one to peiform the office of several, and to dispense as far as possible with the use of them. The style becomes thereby more Sec. 77 THE PARAGRAPH. 14!) sprightly ; but wlien the tendencj- is earned to excess, it breaks up tlio paragraph into short, independent sentences, between A\hich no connection can be found, and wliich it is impossible to retain in the memory. Secondly. The frequent repetition of the same conjunction is a fault, amounting at times to oft'ensive mannerism. It is generally connected with a defective structure of sentences resulting from slovenly thinking. Ex. — "Augereau was soon, hoiccvci; dismissed tlie corps for a serious offense, and returned to Paris penniless and in disgrace. Tliere, however, his lofty stature and military air again attracted the attention of the recruiting sergeants, and he was enrolled in the regiment of carabineers commanded by the Marquis Poyauna. Tliere, howeeer, his mischievous disposition a second time broke out, and he was expelled from his new corps for carrying off his captain's horses to sell them in Switzerland." " It is true he was an inveterate reader, amorously inclined towards vellum tomes and illuminated parchments, but he did not covet them, like some collectors, for the mei-e pride of possessing them ; hut gloried in feasting on their intellectual charms and delectable wisdom, and sought in their attractive pages the means of becoming a better Christian and a wiser man. But he was so excessively fond of books, and became so deeply engrossed with his book-collecting pursuits, that it is said some of the monks showed a little dissatisfaction at his consequent neglect of the affairs of the monastery ; hut these are faults I can not find the heart to blame him for, hut am inclined to consider his conduct fully redeemed by the valuable encouragement he gave to literature and learning.'' Thirdly. The accumulation of conjunctions without necessity ought to be avoided. Two conjunctions may meet together at the beginning of a sentence when one connects the sentence with the preceding, and the other expresses the relation between two clauses of the sentence. Ex. — "I go to prepai-e a place for you. Jiid if I go and prepare a place for yon, I will come again and receive you unto myself," "It is of the utmost importance to us that we associate principally with the wise and virtuous. When, therefore, we choose our companions, we ought to be extremely careful in regard to the choice we make." Sometimes we find a sentence with three coiyunctions in 150 STYLE. Sec. 77 succession. But such an accumulation is rarely compatible with clearness and force. Ex. — " To tliose wlio do not love God, the enjoyment of liim is unat- tainable. Now as that we may love God, it is necessary to know him ; so that we may know God, it is necessary to study his works." 2. By the structure of the sentence. The relation of a sen- tence to the preceding may be distinctly indicated by means of inversion, contrast, and words referring to something that has gone before. By this means we may form a series of sentences in which the succeeding will appear to be suggested by some expression or turn of thought in the one preceding. In skillful hands this method imparts a high degree of beauty to the style, but with inferior writers it degenerates into feebleness and affectation. The following sentences will illustrate the nature of this mode of refer- ence. The words of reference are in italics. "One day a Malay knocked at my door. What business a Malay could have to transact among the English mountains, I can not conjecture." " He lay down upon the floor for about an hour, and tlien pursued his journey. On liis departure, I presented him with a piece of opium. To him, as an orientalist, I con- cluded that opium must be familiar," etc. (Notice theinversions.) 78. Proportion — The several thoughts which are brought together in one paragraph ought to be presented in their due relief. The important ones should have the conspicuous posi- tions ; the inferior should be put in the obscurer places. The main thoughts ought to be exhibited as such, and the subordi- nate be exhibited as subordinate. Tiiis rule is violated when a thought which ought to be con- tained in a principal member of a sentence is given in a sub- ordinate clause ; also when any of the details are too long dwelt upon, and thus raised out of their proper place. It is better to allow a subordinate thought to pass imperfectly exhibited, than by disturbing the relations of the parts to destroy the impres- sion of the whole paragraph. Sec. 78 THE PAKAGEAPH. 151 , Variety. — Yariety in the structure and length of the succes- sive sentences must be consulted. Uniformity is inconsistent with a just exhibition of the relations of the thoughts, exhausts the attention, and becomes intolerably irksome. One species of uniformity is produced when the series is com- posed of sentences of the same class ; as, when all are condi- tional or inteiTOgative, loose, periodic, or balanced. Even to begin or end sentences too often in the same manner is objec- tionable. Another species is produced by a succession of sentences of the same length. Writers differ greatly as to the length of sentences ; some prefer long, others short. Short sentences are more lively and familiar, and better adapted to works of entertainment and popular instruction. Long sentences require a greater effort of attention, and are suited to weighty, abstruse, and elevated thouglits. Nowadays we incline to the use of short sentences. It is, however, often important to exhibit a complex thought with its necessary qualifications, limitations, circumstances, etc., in a single view; to break it up into minute fragments would be to destroy it. In the higher forms of prose, both di- dactic and oratorical, long sentences are frequent and unavoid- able. Butjfhatever may be the respective advantages of brevity and length, they will be lost if a number of sentences of the same length, whether long or short, follow each other in the same paragrapli. Although each separately taken may be un- derstood without an effort and produce a pleasing effect, the repetition of the same mental process in attending to the series inevitably engenders weariness. In a series of very short sen- tences in which the thought is distributed into disconnected portions, a painful effort is constantly required to make out tlie relation between them, to keep them in view, and to gather from them the leading idea. A series of long sentences leads to the same results in a different way ; the mind is exhausted by the uninterrupted effort of anayzing and remembering the complex presentations of thought. 152 STYLE. Sec. 78 Hence, a mixture of long and short sentences is necessary to prevent the languor resulting from uniformity ; it does not merely gratify the ear, — it aids the mind in following and re- taining the train of thought. The style in which the sense is given in short sentences, each complete in itself, is called by the French the style coupe, and is distinguished from the style periodique, in which the sen- tences are longer and duly linked together. The following is an example of the style eoupi: "From a political point of Tiew, there is but one single principle: the sovereignty of man over himself. Tliis sovereignty of myself over myself is called liberty. Where two or several of these sovereignties associate the state begins. In this association there is no abdication. Each sovereignty gives np a certain portion of itself to form the common right. That portion is the same for all. This identity of concession which each makes to all is called equality. The protection of all over each is called fraternity. The point of intersection of all these aggregated sovereignties is called society." As a general rule, it is advisable to make the sentences at the beginning of a paragraph brief. ^Vy a si'iit^inc oun'ht not to close with an insignificant word, so it is a fault to end a para- graph with a secondary, unimportant thought. The conclusion should be a leading thought, embodying the result of what has gone before, or preparing for what is to follow, and will usually be expressed in a sentence of some length. A very short sen- tence is not appropriate unless it be an energetic, condensed statement of a weighty truth. There are exceptions to the law of variety. To give to a thought its just expression, i|t is often necessary to study sym- metry in the structure of the paragraph, just as it is often nec- essary to study it in constructing sentences. When by preserv- ing uniformity of structure we can keep the main ideas in their proper position, biing out the points of resemblance and differ- ence of objects, and make important relations prominent, it would be a blunder to vary the construction. This would be to sacrifice the higher qualities to the sound. Ex. — To vary the structure would weaken and obscure the following parallel : " Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil the better artist ; in Sec. 80 THE PARAGRAPH. 15.J the one, we most admire the man ; in the other, the work. Homer hurries us with a commanding impetuosity ; Virgil leads us with an attractive majesty. Homer scatters with a generous profusion ; Virgil bestows with a careful magnificence. Homer, like the Nile, pours out his riches with a sudden overflow; Virgil, like a river hi its banks, with u. constant stream." 79. Announcing the Theme. — The theme of the paragrapli ought to be distinctly indicated. Sometimes it is not explicitlj' stated, and the reader is left to gather it from the text. In some subjects this may be safely done, but it frequently pro- duces obscurity. When the theme is new or at all abstruse, it should be announced. It may be laid down in a brief sentence towards the begin- ning; not necessarily in the first sentence; for paragraphs are connected together as parts of a larger unity, and the opening sentence is often a transition, in the form of a summary of something previously given, connecting a paragi'aph with the preceding. Sometimes, instead of being stated at the beginning, it is withheld until the close. The author first enumerates the par- ticulars before announcing the general truth which he draws from tliem, or gives his arguments and prepares the way for the proposition before he brings it forward. Occasionally the theme is stated at the beginning, and is repeated at the con- clusion. To give due emphasis to the enunciation of the theme, it is sometimes repeated ; the second statement is often a condensed, figurative one. Ex. — " The practical danger which has sometimes been appi'eliended from metaphysical jjursuits, has in reality only been found to follow from their stunted and partial cultivation. The poison has grown up ; the anti- dote lias been repressed." 80. Examples illustrating the foregoing' rules. — Those who wish to become, familiar \Aith the principles of the con- struction of paragraphs should study carefully passages taken from different authors, and from various classes of composi- 154 STYLE. Sec. 80 tion — history, didactic treatises, and orations. The examples below will answer to illustrate the rules laid down, and will gi\'e the student some hints how to apply them. (1) "Tlie other thing to be considered is, that in this great worli, the understanding is chiefly at the disposal of the will. (2) For though it is not in the power of the will, directly either to cause or hinder the assent of the understanding to a tiling proposed, and duly set before it; yet it is antecedently in the power of the will to apply the understanding faculty to, or to take it off from the consideration of those objects to which, with- out such a previous consideration, it can not yield its assent. (3) For all assent presupposes a simple apprehension or knowledge of tlie terms of the proposition to be assented to. (4) But unless the understanding employ and exercise its cognitive or apprehensive power about these terms, there can be no actual apprehension of them. (5) And the understanding, as to the exercise of this power, is subject to the command of the will ; though as to the specific nature of its acts it is determined by the object. (6) As for instance, my understanding can not assent to this proposition, ' that Jesus Christ is the Son of God;' but it must first consider, and so appre- hend what the terms and parts of it are, and what they signify. (7) And tJiis can not be done if my will be so slothful, worldly, or voluptuously dis- posed, as never to suffer me at all to think of them, but perpetually to carry away and apply ray mind to other things. (8) Thus far is the un- derstanding at the disposal of the will." Dr. South's Sermons. This is an argumentative paragraph. It contains the proof and illustration of a single proposition, viz., that the assent of the understanding to the truths of religion is in a great meas- ure under the control of the will. Every sentence has a direct bearing on the theme. The theme is explicitly stated (1), and is repeated at the close (8). It is given due prominence throughout. To present it more distinctly and obviate all misunderstanding, the necessary qualifications are given, and the proposition maintained is put in contrast with the eiToneous views with which it is liable to be confounded (2), (5). The sentences are closely connected. (2) is the statement of a general truth confirming (1). (3), (4), (5), are arguments proving (2). (6), (7), are an illustration of the proposition. The connection of the sentences is carefully marked both by Sec. 80 THE PAEAGKAPH. 155 conjunctions and words of reference (in italics). The reason- ing would be more readily understood, if uniformity of struct- ure had been preserved in (3), (4), and (5). The emphatic words in these sentences are, "assent — apprehension," "appre- hension — exercise of the understanding," " exercise of the un- derstanding — command of the will." There is a mixture of long and short sentences. The next example is from Macaulay's Essay on Lord Bacon : (1) "The years duiing wliicU Bacon held the great seal were among the darkest and most shameful in English history. (2) Every thing at home and abroad was mismanaged. (3) First came the execution of Ealeigh, an act which, if done in a proper manner, njiglit have been defen- sible, but which, under all the circumstances, must be considered as a dastardly murder. (4) Worse was behind — the war of Bohemia, the suc- cesses of Tilly and Spinola, the Palatinate conquered, the king's son-in- law an exile, the house of Austria dominant on the continent, the Protest- ant religion and the liberties of the Germanic body trodden under foot. (r>) In the meantime, the wavering and cowardly policy of England fur- nished matter of ridicule to all the nations of Europe. (6) The love of peace which James professed would, even when indulged to an impolitic excess, have been respectable if it had proceeded from tenderness for his people. (7) But the truth is, that, while he had notliing to spare for the defense of the natural allies of England, he resorted without scruple to the most illegal and oppressive devices for the pui-pose of enabling Bucking- Iiam and Buckingham's relations to outshine the ancient aristocracy of the realm. (8) Benevolences were exacted. (9) Patents of monopoly were multiplied. (10) All the resources which could have been employed to replenish a beggared exchequer, at the close of a ruinous war, were put in motion during this season of ignominious peace." The theme is announced in the opening sentence (1), and repeated in a more determinate form in (2). It is confirmed by an enumeration of particulars — the murder of Ealeigh (3) ; mismanagement abroad (4), (5); mismanagement at home (6)- (9) ; closing with the comprchensire statement (10). The unity is complete ; the proportion of parts is observed ; the parts are closely connected by their relation to the common theme, and in most of the sentences by words of reference, etc. The sen- tences are short, but sufficiently varied. IS'otice the construc- tion of (1). 156 STYLE. Sec. 81 CHAPTEE VI. DIVISION OF STYLE. 81. Recapitulation. — The portion of rhetoric which has been gone over constitutes what may be called General Khetoric, as it embraces the laws of prose composition in general without regard to the matter and aim of the particular discourse. Part First contains a description of the mental processes in- volved in the act of composition. The subject, which is either given to the writer or chosen by him, is at first vague and un- defined. The first step is to reduce it to a determinate, pre- cisely stated theme. The next step is to form an outline or skeleton of the discourse, which is done by gathering by medi- tation the main ideas, and then arranging them in such an order and proportion as their logical relations and the necessi- ties of the discourse require. These main ideas are then to be developed; the ideas necessary to connect thern (transitions) are found; and the thoughts necessary to explain, illustrate, and confirm them are gathered and arranged in due order. Thus the outline or rude scheme becomes a completed, well rounded, consistent whole. So far we have dealt only with the thought as it exists in the writer's mind. But this thought is to become external — be imparted to others. It must, therefore, be embodied in language. Language was, of course, employed in the pro- cesses of thinking which we have just described, for language and thought are inseparable; but the writer's attention was directed mainly to the invention and elaboration of ideas, with no special regard to the manner in which they should be ex- pressed so as to be understood by others. But having become master of his thoughts, his next task is to embody them in such language as will convey them to others, and bring their minds and wills into harmony with his ; i. e., to give them an ade- quate expression. The rules for the adequate expression of thought have been given in the preceding chapters of this Second Part. Sec. 82 DIVISION OF STYLE. 157 To be adequate, the expression of thought must comply with two conditions. 1st. As to the matter : it must convey the exact thought in a manner coiTesponding to its importance. 2d. As to the hearer: it must call his powers of thought and feeling into free and unimpeded activity, neither stimulating them beyond, nor repressing their tendency toward their natu- ral limit. Hence it must both economize his attention and give free play to his activities. The essential qualities of style resulting from a compliance with these conditions are propriety, perspicuity, and vi\'acity. These qualities of style depend on the choice and aiTange- ment of words. As to the words which are the proper, literal signs of ideas, those only are to be selected which are recog- nized as belonging to the common national speech ; are in current use ; are offensive neither to moral purity nor refined feeling; and are accurate, becoming expressions of the ideas to be conveyed. To secure the highest degree of vivacity, the figures of speech ai-e employed, which serve to present ideas in a concrete, sensible form to the imagination, and with emphasis to the understanding and feelings. The words are combined into sentences to express thoughts. The requisites of a sentence, it has been shown, are correctness, unity, clearness, precision, energy, and melody. Sentences are combined to form a larger and more complex unity, called a Paragraph ; the essential qualities of which are unity, continuity, proportion, and variety. 82. DiflFerences of Style. — The qualities described in the foregoing eluipters, and briefly mentioned in the last section, must appear in every composition on whatever subject it is written ; there can not be an adequate expression of thought where any one of them is lacking. But the manner of expression is modified by the matter and aim of the discourse and the peculiarities of the writer. If a man waites with simplicity and earnestness, his mental and moral character will reveal itself both in his thoughts and Ian- 158 STYLE. Sec. 82 guage. Where the stamp of indiyiduality is wanting there is no style. Style, then, is as varied as human character, and it may be said that there are as many kinds of style as there are writers. But there are points of view from which we can contemplate this infinite variety, and reduce it to a few classes. It is plain that there are many divisions of style possible, since there are many qualities any one of which can serve as a principle of division. Thus, it may be divided with respect to the matter into his- torical, didactic, etc. ; with respect to the number of words, into the concise, sententious, laconic, terse, copious, diffuse, verbose ; with respect to the use of figures, into the florid, ornate, plain, dry; with respect to the arrangement of words and clauses, into the natural, indirect, inverted, periodic, epigrammatic, flowing. The division adopted in most Ehetorics is one founded on the difference in the general character of style. The most gen- eral characteristics are chosen as the basis of classification, and no sharp discrimiiiation is attempted. According to this divis- ion, there are three kinds or species of style, viz. : the simple or lower, the grand or higher, and the middle. 83. The Simple or Lower Style. — It is characteristic of this style, that, without disregarding the diff'erence of written and spoken discourse, it imitates the conversational language of cultivated society. It employs familiar words and idiomatic expressions ; prefers the figures of speech that give distinctness to the more brilliant and passionate ; the sentences are not often very long or complicated, and are loose or mixed, seldom peri- odic; rapidity and energetic condensation are foreign to it; some degi-ee of diffuseness characterizes it, but not unnecessary wordiness. It is appropriate to discom-ses that address chiefly the understanding, but is not adapted to move the feelings and passions. It is employed in nan-ating the events and describ- ing the objects of ordinary life, and in connnunicating instruc- tion and information. The simple style ranges from the plain style, \vhich rejects Sec. 84 DIVISION OF STYLE. 159 all ornament, allows many negligences, and approaches most nearly to the language of conversation — to the elegant. It is susceptible of a high degi-ee of beauty; accurate knowledge, clear thinking, correct taste, and social refinement impart to it a classic elegance. The ideas are conveyed sa clearly and with such an absence of effort, that the reader's attention is not attracted to the mode of expression, and he is apt to imagine that he \yould have employed the same. The difficulty of writing in such a style is known only to those who atteinpt it. The extremes to be shunned are: 1st. Dryness and lan- guor, arising from the use of abstract and commonplace ideas and language, formal definitions and divisions, slovenly sen- tences, etc. 2d. Coarseness and vulgarity, into which many are betrayed by false notions of famiharity. 84. The Grand or Higher Style. — ^This style is appropriate when treating of the most elevated subjects of thought, and of objects that concern the most important interests of individuals and communities. It supposes that the writer is affected to an extraordinary degi-ee by the object, that he is inflamed with enthusiasm for what he believes to be gi'eat and good, or with moral indignation at some wrong. The adequate expression of the noblest principles of oui- na- ture, when affected by elevated objects, will necessarily possess force, grandem', and sublimity. These qualities may be exhib- ited in various ways. Great thoughts are often clothed in a majestic simplicity ; sometimes the resources of language are employed to present them with a fullness and magnificence that will cany captive both mind and heart. The noblest and most expressive words are chosen ; the boldest figures are em- ployed — as, personification, vision, sennocination. The sen- tences are sometimes brief and pregnant, conveying the thought in a form that seizes the attention and compels the reader to reflect on it ; at other times they are flowing and rhythmical. From tlie nature of this style, as the expression of extraordi- nary excitement of the imagination and emotions, it is adapted to but a few classes of composition, and only to subjects of gi'eat 160 STYLE. Sec. 84 importance. Further, it can not pervade an entii-e discourse, but will be confined to tlie portions in vvbicli thought and passion reach their highest stage. It can not be employed unless the hearer or reader is in sympathy with the speaker or writer. The faults to which this style is liable are extravagance, ex- aggeration ; the use of hollow, conventional phraseology, which is supposed to give stateliness and pathos ; the excessive use of figm'ative language, enervating and obscuring the ideas instead of enforcing them — ^faults wliich spring from the want of knowl- edge, taste, and sincerity. 85, The Middle Style. — This holds a position between the simple and the grand style ; it is the transition from the one to the other, and combines some of the characteristics of both. It resembles the simple in striving to comnmnicate truth to the understanding with clearness, and resembles the grand in aim- ing to influence the feelings and passions. It is bolder and more profuse in the employment of figures and the various em- phatic verbal forms, than the simple style ; but does not use those appropriate to intense feeling, which are found in the grand. This style is employed in all compositions intended not only to inform and convince, but at the same time to move the feel- ings and passions. Its character varies A\itb the predominance of one or other of these ends. When instruction and conviction are predominant, it approaches the lower style ; when influen- cing the feelings is the main object, it partakes more of the character of the higher. 86. Caution, — The student is to be cautioned against sup- posing that a discourse is necessarily confined to one of these kinds of style. This eiToneous opinion has been fostered by the prevailing custom of perusing extracts from authors instead of entire Avorks, and thus of judging of the whole from a mere fragment. All three styles may be found in the same dis- course. With a genuine writer, the thoughts control and shape See. 87 DIVISION OF STYLE. 161 the language; the style mil be simple when the appeal is mainly to the understanding, and the other powers are called into but moderate activity ; grand when intensity and elevation of passion and emotion are to be expressed ; and the middle style will be adopted when the aim is to call into harmonious, vigorous activity, understanding, feeling, and passion. 87. The application of the principles of General Eheto- ric. — The divisions just given are too indefinite to afford much assistance in original composition and criticism. Before the student can learn to discriminate between the different kinds of style, he must become familiar \^ ith the application of the prin- ciples of general Rhetoric to discourse as determined by its matter and aim. This is the subject of the two remaining parts, which, as dis- tinguished from the portion now completed, may be considered as constituting Special or Applied Rhetoric. It treats of: 1. The Elements, or Elementary Forms of Discourse. 2. The Principal Forms of Prose. Rhet. 14 PAET III. THE ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. 88. Preliminary. — The objects of thought can be reduced to two classes; viz., individual objects and general notions. Individual objects are of two kinds. Either they are simul- taneous wholes ; i. e., those whose parts exist at the same time, whether individual things existing, or conceived to exist in space; as, this tree, house, etc.; or particular mental states and qualities of which we get a knowledge by consciousness ; — or they are successive wholes ; i. e., those whose parts are not presented as existing at one time, but which arise in successive periods of time ; as, for example, a storm, a battle, the life of a man — ^in general, all changes in the internal and the external world. General notions are formed by comparison and generaliza- tion; they have no one object precisely corresponding to them, but are applicable to an indefinite number of objects ; as, tree, man, house. We may consider individual and general notions in them- selves, or we may endeavor to show that two or more of them are related. What are the Elementary Forms of Discourse? — CoiTe- sponding to these distinctions we have, as the elements or ele- mentary forms of discourse : 1. Description, or the exhibition in language of the parts of a simultaneous whole. 2. Narration, or the exhibition of the parts of a successive whole. (162) Sec. 90 DESCEIPTION. 163 3. Exposition, consisting in the explication of general no- tions and propositions fonned from them. -i:. Argumentation, by which the truth or falsehood of a jn-oposition is cA-inced. There can be no connected discourse without one or more of these forms. In a composition in which several of them enter, one will predominate, giving character to the whole. CHAPTEE I. DESCEIPTION. 89. Definition and objects of Description. — A description is the exhibition in language of the coexistent parts and quali- ties of an object of sense, whether real or imaginary. Only complex objects are capable of description ; purely sim- ple objects or qualities, as a simple color, can not be described. The objects of description are all complex objects of perception, such as natural products, creations of art, landscapes, states of mind, characters of individuals and classes, etc. 90. Eequisites of a good Description. — The aim of a de- scription is to enable the reader to form an image of the object corresponding as nearly as possible to that in the mind of tlie writer. Its requisites are: 1. Truth. — It must not only be free from self-contradiction, but the features must be those of the actual object; the representation must harmonize with the reality. 2. Completeness (opposed to' inadequacy or mutilation). — The essential features must be given ; what subordinate points should be mentioned will bo deterihined by circumstances. I^^othing should be omitted that will promote the aim of the Avriter. 3. Unity. — The mere enumeration of single traits does not 164 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 90 constitute a description. The parts must be connected in such a manner as to afford a distinct image of a single object, so that it can be recognized and discriminated from other objects. i. Vivacity. — Tlie object must be described as it appears to the senses. The degree of vivacity differs in the various kinds of description. The general rule for all is, to reject what is abstract and vague, and to seek what is determinate and par- ticular. 5. Brevity. — The mind speedily becomes wearied with the effort to combine and retain a number of qualities ; in descrip- tion, more than in any other form of discourse, brevity is indis- pensable. 91. Difficulty of the art of Description. — The art of rep- resenting an object in language is a difficult one. The chief causes of the difficulty are : 1. The number of qualities be- longing to an individual object is greater than it is possible to comprise in a description. To attempt to give to it the fullness of an actual perception would lead to an accumulation of de- tails that could not be retained in the memory and united in a single image. 2. The properties and qualities of the object co- exist and are presented to sense as parts of a simultaneous whole, whereas when represented in language they are exhib- ited in succession. Hence, to succeed in this art, gi-eat skill is requisite to analyze the object, and to select and combine the separate traits. 92. Rules of Description. — 1. The first rule is: Deter- mine the point of view from which the description is to he made. This rule is laid down first, as it is only by complying with it that we can bring the subject, otherwise illimitable, into bounds, and decide what topics are to be selected and what order is to be pursued. The same object admits of being de- scribed in a variety of ways according to the occasion, the end to be realized, etc. When the aim is merely to enable the un- derstanding to distinguish one object fi-om another, the descrip- tion approaches to definition, and, both in the matter selected Sec. 92 DESCRIPTION. 165 and in the mode of treatment, differs fi'om the more elevated forms which appeal dii-ectly to the imagination. Among these there is also a difference. A description may be objective, i. e., may aim to present a vivid image of the object as it is ; or it may be subjective, i. e., aim to exhibit the object together with the emotions which it excited in the mind of the writer. Subjective description occurs most frequently in poetry and eloquence. 2. Select traits that are characteristic, i. e., such as give a clear and correct impression of the real nature of the object ; interesting either in themselves or in theii- relation to the ob- ject; determinate, concrete, as opposed to whatever is vague and abstract. Care must be taken to choose qualities that blend readily into one image ; out of a successive presentation of parts the imagination retains only such as coalesce with what follows without losing their individual characteristics. 3. Avoid accumulating too many detaih. The mind can retain but a few, and v;\\ea the attention is overtasked the im- pression becomes feeble and obscure. The force of description depends more upon the character of the traits selected than upon their number. One striking circumstance will often bring an entire scene biifore the mind with greater vividness than a minute enumeration of the details. Carlyle says on tlus sub- ject: "On what quality of observing, or of style in describing, does this intense pictorial power depend? Often a slight circum- stance contributes curiously to the result ; some little, and per- haps to appearance accidental, feature is presented ; • a light gleam which instantaneously excites the mind, and m-ges it to complete the pictm-e and evolve the meaning thereof for itself. By critics such light gleams and their magical iniluence have been frequently noted ; but the power to produce such, to select such features as will produce them, is generally treated as a knack or trick of trade, a secret for 'being gi-aphic'; whereas tliose magical feats are, in truth, rather inspirations ; and the gift of performing them, which acts unconsciously, without fore- thought, and as if by nature alone, is properly a genius for 166 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 92 description. One gi-and invaluable secret there is, however, which includes all the rest, and, what is comfortable, lies clearly in every man's power — to have an open, loving heart, and what follows from the possession of such. Truly it has been said — emphatically in these days ought it to be repeated — a loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge. This it is that opens the whole mind, quickens every faculty of the intellect to do its fit work — that of knowing, and, therefrom by pure consequence, of vividly uttering forth. Other secret of being graphic is there none worth having ; but this is an all-sufificient one." 93. Disposition of details. — The features selected must be arranged in a natural order, so that the description may corre- spond to the object described. In a large class of natural and artificial products the order is given with the objects, so that there is very little room for choice with reference to the parts with which the description shall begin. In complex subjects greater liberty is given. We may give first a general state- ment of the class to which the object belongs ; the uses to which it is applied; its outline and size. We may then de- scend to particulars, dividing the whole into large masses, and then giving the details belonging to each. The proper relation of the parts should be observed ; description is not a bare enu- meration of separate traits ; the parts should cohere — the pre- ceding should be easily retained in the memory and connect readily with what follows, and thus each part illustrate and support the others, and all combine into one distinct image. In describing the social condition of a people — the morals, institutions, and the like — still greater liberty is allowed. The main object is to afford a distinct general view of the whole complex subject ; the process requires skill in logical division. Excessive subdivision is to be guarded against, as it renders the obtaining of such a general view difficult, if not impos- sible.. When an object is to be described that can not be appre- hended in a single view, but the parts of which are presented in succession, as in an extensive landscape, the description may Sec. 95 DESCBIPTION. 167 follow the ordei- of presentation. In such cases it takes some- thing of the form of a narrative, and has a higher degree of vivacity than the ordinary form of description. 94. Auxiliaries. — The vivacity of a description is promoted in several ways. The object may be compared with similar or with dissimilar objects ; associated cii'cumstances may be given, or associated thoughts, feelings, memories ; the writer may in- terpret the outward signs, mingle inferences with the descrip- tion, and in various ways put the reader in possession of all that is nearly or remotely connected with the subject. Rules of expression. — The expression in language varies with the nature and end of the description. The naturalist and orator adopt a very different style in delineating the same ob- ject. The effect is destroyed by employing vague and abstract terms ; in all cases the writer should aim to particularize and individualize. Metonymy and synecdoche both contribute to this end, and are of fi-equent use ; like^\ ise epithets suggesting comprehensive details, points of resemblance, etc. Stereotyped forms of expressions render a description feeble and common- place, and should be unconditionally rejected ; novelty is indis- pensable to interest in this kind of discourse. Brevity, so" far as it is compatible with completeness, must also be studied. No class of compositions is more liable to become tedious. iQ5- Description of natural and artificial products. — The objects included under this head are the products of art, as buildings, machines, etc., and natural products, both organic and inorganic. The aim is to exhibit the peculiarities of the object so as to enable the reader to discriminate it from other objects. It embraces : 1. A general notion or description, which serves to locate the object. 2. A particular description, giving the characteristic quali- ties of the object, its uses, etc. No general scheme can be given for inorganic substances. 168 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 95 Some of the topics to be employed are : their genus, composi- tion, appearance (form, color, etc.), locality, uses. The topics for the description of an organic substance are : its partition (main parts), characteristics of individual parts, circumstances of place, uses, division or different species, ap- pearance (form, size, color, etc.). In describing animals, we must give the physical marks, and also the inward marks, such as intelligence, susceptibility of education, relation to man, mode of life, and similar quali- ties. The marks selected should be essential and characteristic, and should be so grouped as to bring the related qualities together. Physical appearances. — The description may be either of scenery or of phenomena of nature. The former embraces landscapes of gi-eater or less extent. The main points to be noticed are the relative position of the locality ; its length, breadth ; its main divisions with their subdivisions, noteworthy circumstances and features. When the scene is an extensive one, that can not be taken in at one view, the points will be presented in succession, and those dwelt upon which give the most lively perception of the scene. To succeed in description of this kind, a writer must have the power to select from the many objects presented to him those which will make the strongest impression on the imagination and feelings. The description of natural phenomena — as of a sunset, sun- rise, thunder-storm — ^is nearly related to narration. We have here a passing phenomenon connected wth a particular locality. The phenomenon can be gi-asped as a whole only by taking in the changes as they occur. The scheme for such a description corresponds to that for the narration of an event. It contains : 1. The preceding circumstances, including the cause, occa- sion, indications, and the like. 2. The beginning, middle, and end of the phenomenon. 3. Its consequences, general and special, immediate and remote. Sec. 96 DESCKIPTION. 169 In both these forms of description great vivacity is indispen- sable. Particulars that address the senses should be brought forward ; a single striking feature that may be expressed in a .ingle vsford is often more effective than an extended enumera- tion of details. Personification, metaphor, synecdoche, and metonymy are freely used. The unity of descriptions of this class consists in a great measure in the impression made upon the feelings, whether joyous, serious, gloomy, sublime. The nature of the emotions to be awakened by the entke description must be kept in view, and such characteristics selected as are suitable to them ; what would disturb the harmony of the im- pression should be omitted. 96. Mental states. — The states of thought, feeling, and de- sire are described by giving the class to which they belong with the specific difference, and adding, when greater fullness is re- quired, (1) the causes producing, the occasion on which they arise, their object and end ; (2) the mode in ^^hich they manifest themselves, as by ^^•ords, gestures, the countenance, actions; (.3) their influence and tffects ; (4) circumstances modifying, checking, exciting them ; (5) their perversions ; (G) comparison with cognate and opposite states. Characters. — The description of a character consists in giv- ing a ftiithful, graphic delineation of the permanent, distinctive qualities of ■ivhicli it is composed. It is of importance in his- tory, biography, and oratory. The subjects may be taken fiom real life, from history, or fi'ora fiction. In this kind of description the following points are to be ob- served : 1. It should embrace both the natural and acquii-ed pecul- iarities. In every character there are certain predominant ten- dencies, on which the others depend, from which they proceed, and which modify and explain the rest. These fundamental qualities, as they are the central principles of activity, are to be selected first, and made prominent throughout. The descrip- Bbet. 15 170 ELEMENTARY FOEMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 96 tion must embrace the intellectual peculiarities, the moral qualities, aud temperament. 2. The external circumstances and relations which influence the formation of character — such as nationality, religion, civili- zation, education, etc., should be carefully considered. The vicissitudes in the life of the person should be mentioned when they throw light upon the character. The difference between biography, which naiTates the events of a life, and delineation of character, which exhibits permanent traits, must be kept constantly in view. 3. The various qualities must be exhibited in their relation to each other. Xo character is absolutely simple, i. e., gov- erned by one principle exclusively; it is the result of a combi- nation of principles which act and react on each other. The qualities must be shown as thus modifying and modified ; the dark and bright sides should be exhibited in contrast with each other ; the different degrees of worthiness and dignity of the various principles should be shown, as according to the pre- dominance of one or another set of principles, a character is pronounced good or bad, noble or base, refined or coarse ; care must be taken not to present traits severed from those with which they are intimately connected, and without which they convey a false impression ; where there is apparent contradic- tion, it must be removed, and the consistency of the character made apparent. 4. The description of a character seeks to give the inward principles from which outward acts proceed, and which can be recognized only by their outward manifestations. It is neces- sary, for the sake of clearness and vividness, to introduce the modes by which the internal principles manifest themselves ; to give the words and deeds of the subject, and the spheres of life in which the qualities have been exerted; as in the family, society, profession. 5. The character may be compared with other characters either similar or different. A lengthened comparison of two characters is called a parallel. It may begin with a summary of what may be said in general of the two, and then proceed to Sec. 97 NAKEATION. 171 indicate what was common to the two, as to time, place, fam- ily, and other conditioning circumstances, and then how they differed in respect to the same. They may then be compared as to the points of resemblance and difference, as to character, plans, labors, the results of their labors. General characters. — Instead of sketches of individual char- acters, we may have what are called general characters. These are delineations of the peculiarities of a class or profession, or of the manifestations of some virtue or vice. They occur in satiric poetry and in didactic prose. The faults to be avoided are unnaturalness, exaggeration, caricature, inconsistency. The characters should appear such as can actually exist, and the traits and actions be such as harmonize with each other and with the central principle. CHAPTER II. NAERATION. 97. The nature and aim of Narration. — A narration is the recital of a consecutive series of incidents fonning a single transaction. The facts naiTated may be either those of the ex- ternal world, including physical phenomena and the actions of intelligent beings, or those of the internal world — what one ' tliinks, feels, desires. They may be simple, being composed of but a single series of incidents, or complex, containing a variety of subordinate or concuiTent incidents. Nan-ation is the main end of historical discourse ; it enters more or less largely into all classes of composition both in prose and poetry. Its form varies with the end which the writer has in view. The simplest is that which it receives when the aim is to give an accurate statement of facts that will enable others to form a coiTect judgment of them, as in official reports and in many business transactions. The higher forms are intended to 172 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 97 call into activity the feelings and imagination ; these forms are principally regarded in Ehetoric, In many cases the nan-ation is not an independent element of a discourse, but is employed merely as the basis of an argument or generalization, or as a means of arousing the passions. In judicial eloquence particu- larly, it is a very important element. It is also frequently employed for didactic pm'poses, as to illustrate and enforce a lesson of prudence, morality, or religion, as in fables, parables, tales. 98. The selection of particulars. — The aim of nan-ation being to exhibit an event as a whole, in its lise, progress, and completion, it involves the necessity of a careful selection of the particulars that are to be incoi-porated into it. The art of selecting is one of the most indispensable accomplishments of a good narrator. Those lacking this qualification do not dis- criminate between what is essential and what is not essential; they bring together a crowd of particulars, but give no clear, connected presentation of the subject. In the jjrocess of selecting, the writer should be governed by the following rules : 1. There is in every event, however complex, one leading fact of which the others are but the dependents. This must be seized ; otherwise the naiTative can not have unity. The unity of an action may be in the subject (as in biogi-aphy, the person whose life is narrated ; in history, the particular nation), in the place, or in the end or result. The place is of subordinate im- portance ; the main thing to be attended to is the result. All incidents that terminate in one final event are parts of one whole ; it is only by reference to this result that the several incidents can be explained, and their place and importance determined. 2. All the essential incidents must be given ; that is, all that are necessary to the progress of the action. The omission of any of these renders the narrative incomplete and unintelli- gible by destroying the connection between the parts. If the narrative contains only a summary of the essential parts, it will Sec. 99 NARRATION. 17.3 lack vivacity and interest ; it is accordingly necessary to am- plify them, and to incorporate whatever aids in imparting clear- ness and vividness to the recital. What is superfluous must be omitted, as it but retards the movement of the naiTation and leads to obscurity. Regard must be had, as in description, to the relations of the details ; there ai-e some so related to each other that if one be given the others must also be given. When this rule is neglected, the nairative becomes false, al- though the separate statements are all true. 3. The end to be accomplished by the nan-ation must be kept in view. The same fact will be related in a different manner in an ofiicial report, in an oration, and in a didactic treatise. 4. The circumstances selected should interest us by address- ing the imagination and feelings. General statements convey no distinct image, and render a naiTation lifeless ; it is neces- sary to descend to particulars, and to present the facts in as concrete a form as possible. The degree of interest depends on the aim, and on the nature of the subject of the narrative. Where the aim is merely to impart infoniiation, great -vivacity is not so indispensable ; it can not be neglected in the higlier forms of narration, as in history and eloquence. Internal phe- nomena — our thoughts, feelings, and desires — can not be pre- sented so vividly ; a narrative of these is apt to be tedious ; whereas when they are exhibited as manifesting themselves in outward deeds, the naiTativo can be made liighly interesting. 99. Disposition of the incidents, — The separate incidents are, in the next place, to be arranged in an order that will secure a continuous movement of the naiTative towards the grand result, 1, As a general rule, the order of time is to be observed. But we can not adhere strictly to this order in all cases — par- ticularly when the event is complex, and involves several parallel series of incidents. Great skill is then required to connect the parts, and preserve the unity and continuity of the narrative. 2, A narration should do more than simply exhibit incidents 174 ELEMENTAEY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 99 in succession ; it should exhibit one as arising out of another, and all as combining to produce one definite result. It should thus account for the event and render apparent its necessity. 3. When the principal event has a number of subordinates, care must be taken to preserve the prominence of the principal. This is eifected by the position given it, the fullness of its de- tails, and style in which it is presented. We nmst not permit a subordinate point to supplant the main one by a too extended treatment of it, or by superior vividness of style. The transi- tions from the main to the subordinate parts should (particu- larly in long narratives) be distinctly marked. 4. Avoid, as far as possible, shifting the scene. The need- less transfer from one place to another is a strain upon the at- tention, and interrupts the continuity of the action. So also with the actors ; it is a great advantage to have one central character around whom the events may be gathered. 5. When the narrative is a long one, and particularly when there is a break in it, the labor of comprehending and remem- bering is lightened by giving a summary of what precedes. The summary contains only the main points and the general result, with the omission of the details. It serves to recall M'hat has been gone over, and prepares the reader to resume the thread of the story. 100. The parts of a Narration. — The parts into which a narration may be distributed are : The introduction. — The object of the introduction is to awaken the reader's interest in the subject, to indicate the point of view from which the fact is contemplated by the writer, or, in general, to make the reader acquainted with whatever is necessary to a con-ect understanding of the course of events. It may be a summary of sucii preceding events as have a direct bearing upon the one to be narrated ; a general description, or the statement of a general principle. It is sometimes expe- dient to exhibit the result or the consequences of the fact, and then proceed to the narrative of the events which led to it. The introduction should be brief, simple, and should throw light Sec. 100 NARRATION. 175 upon the subject. It is a common fault in giving preceding events to go back to too remote a point. Exposition. — Every action must have a beginning, middle, and end. The exposition is that part of the narration which gives the beginning of the action. It sets forth the various circumstances and relations in which the action took its rise. The topics to be used are : the cause of the event, which in- cludes the incidents, institutions, circumstances which led to it ; as also the character and motives of the actors ; the place in which it occurred ; and the time or period at which it happened. The characteristics of the time, its tendencies and civilization, should be mentioned. Narrative proper, or the plot. — This contains the various circumstances, the complication of which forms the transaction to be naiTated. It exhibits the incidents in the order and man- ner in which thcj were called forth, and the causes operating to produce them. The means employed and the manner of employing them must be stated ; the circumstances that either hindered or facilitated the progress of the event should in all cases be prominently set forth. Conclusion. — The conclusion contains the final result of the action ; that to which all the preceding parts tended, and in which they are consummated. The expectation of the reader has been directed to this point during the entire narration ; it should satisfy expectation, and should not be so long as to cause attention to flag. Consequences. — It is often appropriate to add a statement of the consequences, immediate and remote, of the action on the agents and on others. Reflections. — lieflections are often an important part of a narrative. The writer may give an estimate of the character, importance, and worth of the action. Its nature, the motives leading to it, the means employed, the manner of doing it, are all taken into consideration, and tested as to their conformity to law, morality, and piety ; or he may compare it with similar events, or its opposites ; or he may draw from it general prin- ciples and practical lessons. AYhatever the character of the 176 ELEMENTAEY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 100 reflections, they must be subordinate to the naiTative, arise naturally fi'oni it, and be neither in matter nor tone discordant with the subject. CHAPTER III. EXPOSITION. 101. Exposition defined; its objects and aim, — Exposi- tion is the explanation of notions and propositions formed from notions. The term notion is here used in its technical sense to denote a general idea of the point or points in which a number of objects coincide. Its characteristics are : 1. It contains one or more attributes or qualities, and applies to a number of individuals or classes. Thus the notion animal designates the qualities organism, life, sensation, voluntary mo- tion ; these marks or attributes form the intension or depth of the notion. It applies to many classes of objects that agree in possessing these qualities ; as, lion, horse, dog, etc. This con- stitutes its extension or breadth. Notions vary gi-eatly with respect to their depth and breadth. Some are simple, contain- ing but a single attribute ; others, complex, invohing a num- ber of qualities ; others again are very broad or general, includ- ing a gi-eat lariety of classes; while others are limited, con- taining but few classes, or it may be only individuals. 2. The combination of the marks or attributes in a notion is not arbitrary, but corresponds to the real nature of the object to which it is applied. 3. The notion is expressed in language by an arbiti-ary symbol. From their nature it is apparent that notions are peculiariy liable to obscurity. The marks or attributes may not be clearly present to the mind ; essential qualities may be omitted ; quali- ties not belonging to it may be introduced ; the essential and non-esseutial may be confounded : from any of these causes a Sec. 103 EXPOSITION. 177 notion may be wanting in distinctness, completeness, and ac- curacy. The aim of exposition is to guard against all these defects, and to impart to our knowledge clearness, fullness, and order. In the exposition of a notion the points to be noticed are: the name by which it is expressed; the notion itself; its relation to other notions. 102. Verbal explication. — The verbal explication of a no- tion includes several processes : 1. Give the etymology of the word ; i. c, its origin, deriva- tion, and composition. This is necessary when the word is foreign, or compound, or used in a derivative or figm'ative sense. It is frequently a means of discovering its signification, and of precision in its use. It brings the concrete idea of the radical before the mind, and suggests the analogy on which the use of the word is founded. By this means what was but a lifeless symbol is made a picture that represents the idea with vividness. Let one take such words as precipitate, convert, tribulation, and many others which are vague and abstract, and observe what force is given to them when their primary mean- ing is ascertained. 2. Give a history of the changes in the form and significa- tion of the word. In scientific works this is often very impor- tant. 3. Give the equivalent terms, or synonyms. These do not define the word ; if they are better known than the term to be explained, they suggest the sense, but, in most cases, only vaguely. 4. Eesolve the ambiguity of the term. The various mean- ings of an ambiguous term ought to be given before attempt- ing to define it; it is thus separated from the notions with which it is liable to be confounded. See Sec. 47, 3. 103. Logical explication. — The logical explication of a no- tion consists in analyzing it, first, as to its depth, or intension, and, secondly, as to its breadth, or extension; /. e., in defining and dividing it. 178 ELBMENTAEY FOEMS OP DISCOURSE. Sec. 103 Lefinition. — Definition is concerned with the intension of a notion ; it is a brief, precise declaration of its essential charac- teristics. The strictly logical definition contains two elements : (1) the genus of the defined notion ; ('. e., the marks or attributes that it has in common with some other notions : and (2) the specific ditt'erence ; /. e., the marks by which it is discriminated from these same notions. Thus, if Rhetoric be defined the theory of prose, the genus is theory ; by this its similarity to a number of other notions is pointed out; as, the theory of poetry, of music, etc. The specific diiference is prose; by this mark this one theory is distinguished from erery other. A logical definition gives only the essential marks, and of these only those which are original ; that is, such as are derived inimediately from the notion itself, and from which others can be derived, but themselves are not deduced fi-om any other quality. The possession of reason is an essential and original mark of the notion man, and must enter into its definition; but the capacity of speech is a derivative essentia], being in- volved in and deduced from the attribute rationality; it can not therefore form part of a logical defirlition. It admits only positive characteristics. It tells what the object is ; but nega- tive statements merely show from what a notion is excluded, and do not show what it contains. The test of a good defini- tion is its adequacy ; it must apply to all of the class, and to no other. When it does not embrace all, it is too narrow ; when it includes more than the defined notion applies to, it is too broad. When man is defined to be a rational being, the defini- tion is too broad; when Rhetoric is defined the art of argu- mentative discourse, the definition is too narrow. The definition should be expressed with greatest brevity ; the words should be used in their ordinary acceptation, and be im- mediately intelligible. The accumulation of abstract terms, and the use of figurative expressions, should be guarded against. A definition is intelligible only so far as we understand the meaning of the terms employed in it. When the brief, abstract definition is not sufficient, its terms may be analyzed and de- Sec. 104 EXPOSITION. 179 fined ; the new definitions may again be subjected to the same process, until notions are reached that, as simple, do not admit of definition, or, as well known, do not need it. It often re- quires a series, or system, of definitions to secure the requisite degree of clearness. It is a not uncommon eiTor to attempt to define ideas that are fi'om their nature indefinable. The limits of definition should be understood, and the writer ought to be aware what kind of definition the object is susceptible of, if it be definable at all ; he will otherwise fall into obscurity and error. Simple notions and notions of individuals can not be defined logically. In the first, a higher notion under which to bring them can not be found ; in the latter, there can be given only a number of accidental qualities by which one indi\ idual is distinguished from others. A writer, even in a scientific treatise, is not restricted to logical definitions ; he is at liberty, and is often compelled to use in their stead, or to add to them, what the logicians call descriptions. These contain qualities which are not essential, but are better known or more easily suggested to others, and are therefore better suited to the ends of discourse. Thus may be given the properties of an object ; i. e., qualities that belong exclusively to the class, not deducible from tlie qualities con- tained in the definition, but always found in connection with them ; or some attributes which the object has in common with other objects ; or even merely accidental qualities. 104. Division. — Division is the analysis of a notion as an extensive whole ; it gives the subordinate classes of a notion ; its aim is to give order and completeness to our knowledge. The notion is called the divided whole ; its parts, the dividing members, which, with reference to their relation to each other, are called coordinates, and with reference to the divided notion are called subordinates or species. The principle of Division. — The most important and diffi- cult part of the procedure is to find the principle of division. ISO ELEMENTARY PROEMS OF DISCOURSE. See. 104 This is a quality belonging to some of the species, but not to all, by means of which the higher notion or genus is split into parts. Thus, if v,e are to ilivitle the notion science, we find that some sciences are concerned with the facts and laws of the material universe, and others with the facts and laws of mind, and accordingly we divide science into physical and mental. It is plain thjit as a notion may be contemplated from different points of A'iew, different principles of division can be chosen and different divisions made. The notion mankind may be divided with reference to color (Caucasian, ^egvo, etc.); with reference to regions occupied by them (European, Asiatic, etc.); with reference to descent (Indo-Germanic, Shemitic, etc.); with ref- erence to sex, age, culture, occupation, etc. As to the principle of division, the rules to be followed are : 1. There must be but one for the same series. It may be a complex notion, but it must not be changed. If it is, there will not be a true division. Should, for example, mankind be divided according to color and age, we should have a cross division; some belonging to one of the members would be found in tile other. 2. The principle chosen must be adapted to the purpose of the writer. Different sciences and different purposes require entirely different divisions. A distribution of men that would be of importance in political economy, would not be adapted to the purposes of the moralist. 3. It should be fertile; i. e., afford the greatest number of important determinations. It should accordingly be an essen- tial, not an accidental quality. The division of animals accord- ing to the number of legs would be barren. The process can be repeated on the subordinate notions; each of them can be divided, and their parts again be sub- divided until notions are reached that contain under them only individuals. The resolving of these latter into their parts Is sometimes called distribution. In the sciences, in which it is important to bring together related, and to separate the differ- ent parts, the gradations of notions are marked by different terms. The grand divisions are: I. Primary Divisions; II. Sec. 105 EXPOSITION. ISl Classes; III. Orders; IV. Genera; V. Species. Several of these are subdivided; as orders, into subordinate orders and tribes ; species, into variety and race. Laws of Division. — The laws of division are : 1. The dividing members umst, Mhen taken together, be equal to the divided whole. 2. The dividing members must exclude each other. 3. The di\ision must not be forced; the number of members is not to be determined by some preconceived scheme, but by the nature of the notion and the special purpose of the division. Excess of symmetry should be avoided ; it does not follow that because one coordinate is divided, the others also should be. 4. The division should not be too minute ; excessive subdi- vision, instead of aiding in obtaining a general view of the whole and of the relations of the parts, causes indistinctness and confusion. 105. Exposition of the notion in its relations. — The full explication of a notion requires, in addition to its definition and division, the consideration of its various relations : 1. The antecedents and consequents, the circumstances of time and place, and especially the relations of cause and effect, should be mentioned. Under cause, are included all the cir- cumstances without which an event could not have occuiTed — the occasion and instruments employed, as mcII as the efficient cause. The enumeration of the effects is a very important part of the exposition of a large number of subjects. The most im- portant ought to be given, and, if numerous, be classified. The less important are either omitted or but briefly men- tioned. 2. The notion should be compared with similar notions. It must first be shown wherein the notions agree ; as, that they belong to the same genus, or can be referred to the same cause, or have the same end, etc. The points of agi-eement should be in important qualities ; mere superficial resemblances can give no just view of the real nature of the objects compared. But, 182 ELEMENTARY FOEMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 105 as all comparison implies a difference, it must, in the second place, be shown wherein the objects differ. Here, again, care is required not to mistake slight points of difference for essen- tial ones. 3. The notion is further to be explained by comparing it with its opposites ; i. e., such as are contradictory or contrary. The contrast excites attention, brings to view the qualities that are to be made prominent, and separates them more distinctly from qualities with which they are liable to be confounded. When the simple mention of the opposite notions does not give suffi- cient clearness and fullness to the exposition, they may be ana- lyzed and their parts enumerated. 106. Additional instruments of Exposition are : 1. Examples. — By an example is meant a particular case, either an individual or species, which is taken as the repre- sentative of the entire class. Thus, the botanist explains the nature of a class of plants by means of a single one ; the min- eralogist takes a single specimen to exhibit the qualities of a class of minerals. The individuals are of no importance except so far as they are representative of a large number ; all merely individual peculiarities are overlooked, and those dwelt upon which are characteristic of the class. In selecting an example, we should seek for one in which the point to be elucidated is prominent, and in which there are the fewest qualities likely to mislead. As it is not always possible to do this, it is sometimes necessary to employ a number of examples, so that by exhibiting the principle under a variety of circumstances, its distinctive character may be apprehended. 2. Analogy. — ^When the direct resemblance of a notion with others can not be exhibited, it may be illustrated by means of analogies. Two objects may not be alike, yet they may stand in identical relations to other objects. Analogy, taken in its strictest sense, is identity of- relation; as, for example, the rela- tion of 2 to 4 is identical with that of 8 to 16. In elucidating Sec. 107 EXPOSITION. 183 ideas whicb do not lie witliin the sphere of experience, this is the only mode by which we can suggest them, to others. We avail ourselves of it, for example, when in endeavoring to ex- hibit the relation of God to the human race, we describe him as our Father. 107. A scheme of Exposition of a Notion. — A scheme for the exposition of notions, with some of the topics to be used, is here given. It will be understood that all the topics given can not be applied in every subject. T. Explication of the term by which the notion is ex- pressed. When possible a single term should be chosen instead of a phrase. 1. Give the synonymous words. 2. Give the etymology of the word, including its composi- tion, origin, primary and derivative significations, and the his- tory of its changes in form and meaning. 3. Eesolve its ambiguity ; giving its popular and scientific use, and the sense in which it is to be understood in the dis- com'se. II. Explication of the Notion in itself. 1. Analyze the notion in its intension. This includes : (a) The definition, or the declaration of its original and essential qualities, which, in its most concise form, is a logical definition composed of the genus and specific difference. (b) The derivative essentials, or qualities involved in and deducible from the definition. (c) Logical description, or a statement of the propei-ties and accidental qualities of the object. 2. Analyze the notion in its extension. The limits to which the division is to be carried depends upon circumstances. It may be either a simple division or a classification. III. Explication of the Notion in its relation to other Notions. 184 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 107 1. Mention adjuncts, circumstances of time, place, etc. 2. Give its cause, occasion, instruments. 3. State fully the effects, classifying tliem if numerous. 4. Compare with similar or cognate notions. 5. Compare with diverse, contrary, and contradictory no- tions. 6. Illustrate by example and analogy. 108. Exposition of a Proposition. — In a proposition no- tions are bound together so as to form a single thought. It is the object of exposition to ascertain and exhibit this thought precisely and fully. 1. To accomplish this it is necessary, in the first place, to fix the meaning of the terms, and to analyze the notions accord- ing to the method already gi^'en. Special attention should be given to figurative expressions, and to qualifying words and phrases. The division of the leading notions is an important means of giving clearness to the statement of a general prin- ciple ; what is affirmed of a whole class is by this means shown to be true of all the subordinate classes ; and instead of the vague impression produced by a general statement, there is the distinct one arising from dwelling upon a number of particular statements. 2. The nature of the sentence should be noticed. Sentences are declarative, interrogative, imperative, optative. Whatever its form, it is necessary to draw from it the judgment intended to be expressed. It may also be simple or complex ; if com- plex, the various judgments which are combined must be dis- criminated, and exhibited in their relation to each other. 3. A proposition may be expounded by repeating the truth in other words. There are vaiious modes of varying a state- ment. It may be expressed literally and figuratively. It may be given in an amplified and in a sententious form. When this mode is chosen, the expanded declaration ought to precede, and the brief follow ; by the first, the thought is made intelligible; by the second, it is conveyed with energy and impressed on the memory. It may be given positively and Sec. 109 AEGUMENT. 185 negatively. As every affirniation involves the denial of the contradictory judgment, we may affirm a principle both directly and by denying the counter-proposition j as, "All our knowl- edge is fi'om experience ; there is no intuitive knowledge." Frequently a proposition is not intelligible without the state- ment of its opposite ; as, " The poet is born, not made." The negative is necessary in such cases to fix the limits of the posi- tive assertion ; even when it is not thus absolutely indispen- sable, the combination of the two forms contributes gi'eatly to the correct understanding of the proposition. 4. The proposition may be compared with others enouncing the same or a similar judgment. In examining the writings of an author, the various statements of an important principle should be compared ; as these limit, qualify, and explain each other, we can gather from them the exact thought, which may not be fully given in any of the separate propositions. 5. The general principle may be made intelligible by exam- ples. The rules to be observed are the same as those given for the elucidation of notions. C. The judgment may be considered in its relations to other judgments. Here especially may be shown from what it is de- rived, and what consequences, inferences, and applications may be drawn from it. CHAPTEE IV. AEGTOIENT. 109, Argument : what, and what implied in. — An argu nient is a series of propositions or judgments by which the truth or falsehood of a given proposition is evinced. It always im- plies doubt or disbelief in reference to a particular question ; its aim is to produce conviction. In this it differs from exposition, which seeks to remove ignorance as to the nature and relations of notions. When doubt or disbelief results from ignorance, Uhet. It) 186 ELEMENTAKY FOEMS OF DISCOURSE. See. 109 exposition alone suffices to remove it. In most cases the truth or falsehood of the question in dispute can be establislied only by showing tliat it agi'ees with or. conflicts with some admitted truth. Nature and degrees of Conviction. — Conviction must not be confounded with mere subjective behef. We may not be able to give the reason why we believe ; our belief may be the result of ignorance, prejudice, education, or passion. But tills is not conviction ; which is a feeling of certainty founded upon a clear apprehension of the grounds or reasons of our belief. As it is the aim of argument to produce conviction, it must set forth the reasons why a proposition is affirmed or denied. It does not merely assert that it is true or false, but shows tchy it is. Conviction is of various degrees. When the possibiHty of doubt is excluded it is called certainty, or absolute certainty. The objects about which we can obtain absolute certainty are few ; we must be content in most matters with probability ; that is, with the likelihood that the assertion is true. Proba- bility is also of various degrees — from a stage but little re- moved from doubt to one approaching certainty. We distin- guish the different degrees of probability by using such adjec- tives as, slight, considerable, high, etc. Argumentation is either Positive or Negative. — Positive argumentation, or confirmation, establishes the truth of a proposition ; negative argumentation, or refutation, shows the falsehood of a proposition or the want of validity of an argu- ment. Both may enter into the same discourse ; both employ the same forms of reasoning ; but as they have points of difference that require to be noticed, they will be treated of separately. 110. Confirmation. — Confirmation consists in proving the truth of a particular proposition by showing its connection with some admitted truth. It contains : Sec. Ill ■ . AKGUMENT. 187 1. The Thesis, or that which is laid down to he proved. It must be a categorical proposition, i. e., a direct, unconditional assertion of the agreement or disagreement of two notions. 2. The Premises, or reasons, which are judgments true and well known by which the truth of the thesis is established. The force and validity of the reasoning depend upon the truth of the premises, and their relation to each other and to the thesis. When the premises are true and their connection strictly logical, the conclusion is true. But the argument is not valid when any of the premises are false, or when, though true, they are not in proper relation to each other, or when they are less known and certain than what we would prove by them. The certainty of the conclusion can never be greater than that of the weakest of the premises. 111. Preparation of the Question. — "When the question is complicated, a number of preliminaiy procedures are often nec- essary to prevent misunderstanding, to obviate difficulties, and to prepare for the introduction of the arguments. These pre- liminaries are included under the head of — The preparation of the Question. Importance of. — The first rule to be observed in arguing upon any question is to lay down with the greatest possible pre- cision the proposition that is to be established. This is neces- sary in order to select appropriate arguments. "\Mien there is uncertainty as to what conclusion is to be reached, it is impos- sible to select premises from which it can be naturally or neces- sarily deduced. Some of the worst vices of reasoning, such as begging the question and iiTelevant conclusion, often result from the neglect of this rule. It is also necessary in order to detennine the relations of the ^'arious arguments employed. In discussing a question, it is often necessary to introduce subordinate questions, Mhich have to be settled before we can proceed with the main argument. There is great danger that in discussing these subordinate points the main issue will be lost sight of. This occurs most 188 ELEMENTAEY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. Ill frequently in oral discussions. The only means of preventing this evil is to fix clearly the issue, recall it frequently, and judge of all that is introduced by its relation to it. The rule is to be observed even when circumstances make it expedient not to enounce explicitly the thesis. The clearness of the writer's view will be communicated to the entire dis- course ; the reader will gather from its drift the precise point to be proved, and will receive the impression intended to be produced. When, on the other hand, there is the least vague- ness in the writer's view, the reader will not be able to tell how far he agrees with him and how far he differs from him ; will often mistake the question ; and will fail to see the bearing and force of his reasoning. Mode of preparing^ the Question. — The means towards pre- paring the question are : 1. Explication of the terms of the question. The rules for this process are given in the chapter on Exposition (Sec. 102- 107). To what extent the explication should be carried de- pends on the nature of the subject. A full exposition is some- times needed ; on other occasions a brief resolution of the am- biguity of a single term will suffice. It ought not to be carried further than is indispensable to prepare the way for the argu- ments to be presented. Only such terms should be explained as are liable to be misunderstood ; and only those meanings should be gi\en which affect the question. The careful discrimination of the meanings of words aids in finding arguments, guards the reasoner against the many errors arising from ambiguous words, and prepares him to meet the objections, solve the difficulties, and expose the fallacies origi- nating from the same source. 2. Fixing the nature and extent of the question. (The proc- ess is explained in Sec. 108). The character of the reason- ing varies with that of the proposition to be proved. Argu- ments that would be valid to establish a matter of fact, are not suited to prove a purely theoretical proposition ; so, also, what is sufficient to show the possibility of an object, will be inadequate Sec. Ill ARGUMENT. 189 to prove that it actually is or that it must be. The exact nature of the assertion must be settled before searching for arguments ; whether it is of a matter of fact or a general truth ; whether of what can be or is likely to be, or of what actually is, or of what must be ; whether it is made absolutely or with qualifications and restrictions. The quantity of the terms should be marked. In ordinary conversation we allow many ellipses, but in reasoning we must guard against the misunder- standings that arise from their use. When any of the terms are undesignated, so that it is not apparent in what extent they are to be understood, the proposition is ambiguous. "A reasoner who expresses particular assertions without explicit limitation, must do so either because he designs to be ambigu- ous, or because he thinks confusedly, or because he is (perhaps unconsciously) suppressing some step in the reasoning, Avliich it would be right to force out into explicit statement." [iV/ja/- Mn(fs Logic, pp. 59, GO. The question may be a complicated one, involving a num- ber of distinct points, as is the case in many resolutions. The complex proposition is then to be resolved into its several points or heads, in order that the arguments bearing upon each may be distinctly brought out and placed in their proper con- nection. 3. The statement of what is conceded. In every controversy two tilings must be carefully distinguished. There are certain points in which both sides agi'ce, and which therefore are ex- cluded from the discussion ; and there is a definite question proposed for decision. It is advisable to state what points are not disputed, or what, as not an essential part of the question although connected with it, is conceded. By this means the real issue is set in a clearer light, and many prejudices and false impressions are removed. When the writer does not wish to argue a particular point involved in the question, but would reserve the 4ght to do so afterwards, he may waive it. This is not the same as conced- ing it ; and he must make it plain, that while declining for the present to. dispute it, he does not admit its truth. 190 ELEMENTAEY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. Ill After having shown what is not in dispute, the thesis should be laid down with all the necessary limitations and qualifica- tions. If any of the original terms are ambiguous, paraphrases and definitions should be substituted. Care ought to be taken not to advance more than the writer intends to establish. The conclusion of the reasoning must be identical with the thesis as laid down. 4. Eaumeration of the various contrary opinions. In affirm- ing one proposition we may deny several contrary ones; as in asserting the superiority of the republican form of goveniment, we virtually deny the superiority of every other form. In diffi- cult and abstruse questions it is important to state explicitly the contrary opinions of which the thesis is the denial. The ad- vantages of so doing are, that it prevents the hearer from sup- posing that there is but a single alternative, and, by exhibiting the thesis in contrast with the several antagonistic opinions, presents it with greater fullness and clearness. 112. Invention of Arguments. — The question having been prepared, the reasons which evince the truth of the thesis are in the next place to be gathered and arranged. We have to consider, first, the various kinds of reasoning, or the division of arguments; next, their selection, and then then- arrange- ment. 113. Direct and Indirect Reasoning. — A proposition may be proved either directly or indirectly. In the first case the grounds or reasons are laid down, and the truth to be proved is inferred fi-om them. In the second case the procedure is more complex. The truth of the thesis is not proved imme- diately, but by showing the falsehood of its contradictory. In- direct reasoning is founded upon the logical law, that of two contradictory judgments only one can be true, and one must be true, so that we are warranted to conclude from the truth of one contradictory to the falsehood of the other, and fi-om the falsehood of one to the truth of the other. The usual mode of proceeding is, to state in a disjunctive proposition both the Sec. 113 ARGUMENT. 191 thesis and its conti-adictory, and then, assuming the truth of the contradictory proposition, to show that it involves some false principle, or leads to consequences that are manifestly false. The proposition assumed must consequently he false, and its contradictory (the thesis we design to prove) must he true. Ex. — If the thesis Is, Man is a free agent, then the antithesis is, 5Ian is not a free agent. To prove tlie thesis directly, we should have to lay dovi'n i)Ositive arguments ; as, the consciousness of the power of contrary choice, the consciousness of responsibility, etc. The indirect proof would take some such form as this : Man is either free or he is not free. Let us assume that he is not free. If he is not free, lie can not, in cases of conflicting motives, clioose, but must blindly follow one of the impulses. But we know from consciousness that he can decide between conflicting motives ; therefore it is false that he is not free. He must therefore be free. Conditions of the validity of Indirect Reasoning. — In order that indirect probation may be valid, we must be sure, in the first place, that the proposition assumed as a premise is the contradictory, not merely a contrary of the thesis. There can be but one contradictory of a gi^en judgment ; there may be several judgments in contrary opposition to it. AVhile in asserting the truth of one proposition we deny that of all its contraries, we do not in denying a proposition assert the truth of some one of its contraries. If we deny that a color is red, we do not affirm that it is blue. In the second place, the false- hood or absurdity to which the contradictory judgment has been reduced must be real. To show that something is uncommon or incomprehensible is not proving that it is impossible. Comparative advantages of the two methods. — The direct method is the one ordinarily used. It is more in accordance with the natural course of thought to deduce the truth of a proposition from its positive grounds. Both methods are valid. The indirect excludes the contradictory more definitel}-, and often gives a greater certainty than the direct, but it offers no reasons to confinn the truth. The dii-ect, on the other hand, 102 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 113 affords the satisfying conviction that arises from perceiving the connection of a trutli with otlier undoubted truths. The indi- rect is much more liable to fallacies. As a general rule, the direct is to be prefeiTed. There are, however, occasions in which it is more convenient to employ the indirect. The nature of the subject or the character of the audience may malie direct proof diflicult ; or the contradictory of the thesis is better known, and we can exhibit its absurdity in a striliing manner. It is often the only means of dealing with the ignorant and prejudiced, and witli unreasonable and disingenuous opponents. False doctrines and untenable, pre- tentious systems are in no way so safely and surely exposed as by showing their internal contradictions, and that they lead by legitimate reasoning to the hnpossible and the absurd. Eeasoning is most effectual when the two methods are com- bined. In this case, we first show that no other proposition than the thesis can be true, and then show why it is true. 114. Direct reasoning is divided into deductive and induct- ive. Deductive Reasoning'. — In deductive reasoning we proceed fi'om a general truth to a particular; from the whole to the part. A judgment is derived from a more general one by means of an intermediate judgment; the conclusion contains nothing more than is virtually contained in the premises. The argument is composed of three essential parts — a general rule, which may be either a universal truth or a generalization of experience ; the application of this rule to a particular case ; and the proposition drawn from them. Ex.-^AU bodies moving in elliptic orbits are subject to the law of gravitation. (General rule.) Comets move in elliptic orbits. (Applica- tion of tlie vnle.) Therefore comets are subject to the law of gravitation. (Conclusion.) The general rule is called the sumption; the application of the rule, the xiihsiimpfion; the inferred proposition, the con- Sec. 114 AEGUMENT. 193 elusion. The sumption and subsumption form the antecedents 01- premises; the conclusion is sometimes called the conse- quent. Inductive Reasoning. — Induction, in its widest sense, in- cludes all the modes of reasoning by which what is unknown is inferred from what is known. The conclusion is not merely an explicit statement of \\hat is implicit in tlie premises ; it con- tains more than is involved in them. The laws of formal logic do not answer to test the validity of this mode of reasoning ; it has its own special laws, which are given in inductive logic. It includes : 1. Induction in the limited sense of the word ; by which we conclude that what belongs to some of the species or individuals of a class belongs to tlie ^^■llole class ; as when we infer that because gold, silver, and copper melt, therefore all metals will melt ; or that all great conquerors arc great lawgivers, because Alexander, Goesar, Justinian, Charlemagne, and "William the Conqueror were lawgivers. 2. Analog^y, or the inference from the partial similarity of two or more objects to their complete similarity. Here we do not conclude that because a number of objects (A, B, C, D, etc.), belonging to the same class, possess in common the quality m, therefore we may expect to find this quality in all the indi\iduals or species of the class ; but that, because A and B agi'ee in certain essential characters (I, m, n), it is likely that the quality r which is found in A. will be found in B. The argument is not, that because some of a class have a cer- tain quality, therefore all ha^e it ; but that, as t«o objects re- semble each other in several points, they are likely to resemble each other in all. Thus we infer that the planet Mars is prob- ably inhabited as the earth is, since it resembles the earth in the possession of an atmosphere, clouds, water, etc. Example, by w hich we infer that something will prove ti-ue in one case because it happened in another ; as, that Harvey, Rhet. 17 104 ELEMENTAEY FOKMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 114 or anyothei- discoverer, will be persecuted because Galileo was persecuted. One form of this argument is the argument a fortiori, which consists in proving that a thing being true in one case is more evidently so in another in which the circmn- stances are more favorable. It is but an application of the principle that- the gi-eater includes the less. Thus, we infer that if a man is cruel to his fellow-men, much more will he be cruel to brutes. 3. Sig^ns, by which we seek to prove the probable existence of a fact by adducing some other fact or mark that always or in most cases precedes, accompanies, or follows it. We can thus infer from the presence of the cause, the presence of the effect ; or, on the other hand, may argue from the effect to the cause. The argument from cause to effect is generally called a priori reasoning. Its formula is stated by Whately thus: "As far as any cause, popularly speaking, has a tendency to produce a certain effect, so far its existence is an argument for that of the effect. If the cause be fully sufhciept and no im- pedhnents intervene, the effect in question follows certainly; and the nearer ■we approach to this, the stronger the argu- ment." The force of this argument is to establish the antecedent probability of the thesis ; it gives grounds for believing that what is maintained is likely, by showing that there are influ- . ences that have a tendency to produce it. Its efficiency de- pends upon our certainty as to (1) the existence of the causes that are assigned, (2) their sufficiency to produce the effects attributed to them, and (3) the absence of counteracting influ- ences. By this mode of argument we infer that a deed was commit- ted by a certain person, because he had a motive to do it, or because it accords with his character, and that an event will take place because all the usual conditions of its occurrence exist. This man is the murdeivr, for he coveted the property ; or he is revengeful. Lying is hateful to God, for he is the God Sec. 115 ARGUMENT. 195 of truth. Dew will fall, for the night is clear and calm, the atmosphere moist. The argument from effect to cause is sometimes called the a posteriori argument. It proves from the existence of a cer- tain phenomenon the presence of a circumstance that is either its cause or its condition. As far as any phenomenon or com- bination of phenomena is the condition of a given effect, so far is the existence of the effect evidence of the existence of the condition. Thus, we suspect one of robbery, because the stolen goods are found in his possession ; we suspect a man to be the pei-petrator of a mui'der, because he was seen in company with the murdered man, his clothes were bloody, etc. 115. Extrinsic Arguments. — ^All the arguments that have so far been given belong to the class of intrinsic arguments. They are obtained from the thesis by the exposition of its essen- tial notions. There are others that are extrinsic, which must be sought for outside of the subject. To this class belong laws, legal decisions, resolutions, treaties, testimony, etc. They may all be embraced under two heads : 1. Testimony. 2. Au- thority. 1. Testimony. — By means of testimony we establish the truth of a fact that is beyond the sphere of our own personal experience or that of our readers. It can be employed only in matters of experience ; general truths, which are' gained by comparison and inference, are not objects of testimony. Testi- mony is either immediate or mediate. It is immediate when the witness reports Mliat he himself observed; it is mediate when he reports a fact upon the testimony of others. As a report is apt to be altered in its transmission from one person to another, direct testimony is prefeiTed to indirect. In estimating the credibility of testimony we must consider the competency of the witness, i. e., his fitness to observe and report the fact, and his veracity, /. e., his reputation for truth- fulness, and the absence of motives to testify to what is false. The presumption in favor of the truthfulness of a witness is 196 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 115 weakened when it is found that his testimony is for his personal benefit ; it is strengthened when it leads to suffering or loss on his part. Testimony may be given indirectly. The writer or speaker may not intend to testify to a fact, but by incidental hints and allusions when treating of a different matter, he shows that he takes for granted its truth. The testimony of adversaries is often given in this undesigned manner. When the same fact is reported by several witnesses, it must be ascertained whether there has been any concert between them. If concert is excluded, the concun-ence itself, independ- ent of the character of the witnesses, proves the truth of the fact reported. Such an agreement would be impossible unless the occuiTence had taken place. It is very important, in deal- ing with concurrent testimony, to discriminate between varia- tions in unessential points, which will always occur when the witnesses speak the truth, and contradictory statements. 2. Authority .-7-Wlien a declaration is made, not as to an in- dividual fact of experience, but to a general truth, or the cause of some phenomenon, or what is beyond the range of observa- tion, it receives the name of authority. That one event suc- ceeded another is an object of testimony ; but that the one always follows the other, or that the first is the cause of the second, is a matter of inference. To declare that a drug was administered to a sick person, that peculiar symptoms were afterwards manifested, and that the patient died, is testimony; but to declare that death was caused by a particular poison, that the symptoms were those always accompanying that kind of poisoning, is not testimony. These are general truths about which there may be a great diversity of judgment among honest and able men. So when a judgment is pronounced respecting the genuineness of the handwriting from its resemblance to tliat of the supposed writer, it is an inference drawn from com- paring the writing with a standard in the mind of the one who pronounces the judgment. All such declarations belong to authority. Sec. 116 AKGUMENT. 197 To this head are refevred precedents and, decisions of courts. 116. The selection of Arguments. — The arguments g.itliered should be carefully weighed, and those be selected which are not only applicable, but decisive. Weak arguments excite sus- picion, and destroy the force of the valid arguments with which they are connected. It is often extremely difficult to tell what are the strong and what the weak arguments. We apply these terms with scarcely any discrimination, forgetting that they are merely relative. In deciding upon the efficiency of an argu- ment we nmst consider two things : 1. The nature of the matter to be proved. — The strength of an argument can not be determined by the source whence it is drawn ; that which in one class of subjects would be of great force, would be feeble in another class. Extrinsic proof is usu- ally regarded as of inferior value. In theoretical subjects it holds, if admitted at all, a subordinate place ; but when the question is one of fact, it is more decisive than any other. In theological discussions the appeal is to the teachings of Script- ure ; in legal proceedings, to the decisions of the courts ; in both authority is of supreme importance. AMien the (luestion is as to a future event, the a j^riori argument is the most deci- sive: analogy and example are also employed. These kinds of proof are therefore the most important in senatorial eloquence, ■^^■llich is occupied chiefly with ((uestions of expediency. When the aim is to establish the presence of a certain cause, the a posteriori argument is the most effective; when the probability of a past event is to be shown, testiniony is preferred, and after it, the argument a posteriori. These, accordingly, are the most important forms of proof in judicial oratory. 2. The conilition of those addrvsned. — It is not necessary to dncll upon what is so evident, that what is complete proof to those who have some acquaintance \\ith a subject, is often inef- fective with the ignorant. When our purpose is to convince others, we must in choosing arguments consider the degree of intelligence and the capacity of attention of tliose whom we address. 198 ELEMENTARY FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Sec. 116 It is not less important to regard their moral condition. A different procedure is necessary when we address candid minds, who are willing to hear and weigh the reasons presented, fi-om that which is proper when we deal with those who are preju- diced and captious ; whom we can hardly expect to convince, but whom it is desirable to silence. 117. Arrangement of Arguments — The efficiency of argu- ments depends greatly on their arrangement. A skillful dispo- sition will often give strength to proofs comparatively weak, while by a defective arrangement the strongest are rendered powerless. The talents of the reasoner are shown principally in his success in combining his materials into one compact whole, in which each argument has its proper place, and is exhibited in the -clearest light, and in its relation to the other parts and to the thesis. Analytic and Synthetic order. — Either the analytic or the synthetic method of arrangement may be adopted. In the former the question is stated first ; the answer is then given ; and the arguments follow, proceeding from the less to the more general. This is the natural and logical order. But when the opinion we advocate is unpopular, or is in danger of being misunderstood, it is sometimes expedient to adopt the synthetic order. In this we begin with the most general of the premises, which those we address will readily assent to, and conduct them gradually to the conclusion. Principal and Subordinate Arguments. — Great care is re- quired in arranging coordinate and subordinate arguments. We may adduce a number of independent arguments each of which is intended to prove the truth of the thesis. Thus, in proving the existence of God we may argue from the evidences of design in creation, from the moral nature of man, and from the idea of perfection. Each of these constitutes a separate, in- dependent argument in support of our proposition. They are all coordinate. But it is often necessary to prove the truth of Sec. 118 ARGUMENT. 199 some of the coordinate arguments. The proofs in this case arc not intended to establisli the trutli of the thesis, but of a propo- sition subordinate to it. Tliese are subordinate arguments. It is important to discriminate tliese two classes carefully, and in arranging our materials leave no doubt as to their rank. Extrinsic and Intrinsic Arguments. — When different kinds of arguments enter into a discourse, they must be so airanged that the first shall prepare for the second. What follows must strengthen the impression made by what precedes. In order to do this, the peculifvr force of the various classes of arguments must be carefully noticed. Intrinsic arguments should precede the extrinsic. Among intrinsic arguments some naturally come first, others last; and when this difference is disregarded they lose nmeh of their effi- ciency. The first place belongs to those which establish the possibility or probability of what is asserted. After having raised a presumption in favor of our position by the a priori argument, the attendant circumstances and testimony can be introduced, and following these, examples and analogy. By this method the anticipation of the truth of the thesis is first excited, and then confirmed by the various circumstances ad- duced. If the process is reversed, the effect of the arguments from example, analogy, etc., is counteracted by the suspicion which is always felt when we can find no sufficient reason for the fact alleged. To overcome tliis a greater number of dcci- si\clearly exhibited. Perspicuity is not to be purchased at the cost of accuracy and thoroughness. Scien- tific clearness, — the clearness of what is known to a few, or may lie readily discovered by their self-activity, is not such as is intelligible to all. The law of perspicuity is violated by attempting to discuss scientifically subjects which lie within 212 PRINCIPAL FOEMS OF PKOSE. Sec. 129 tlie sphere of speculation only ; by carrying analysis too far ; by seeking to deliue and prove priniiti^-e facts. The relation of the reader to the subject must also be taken into account in pronouncing iipon the clearness or want of clearness of a scientific discourse. It is a writer's privilege to select the class whose requirements he will endeavor to meet. If the reader does not stand upon the level, possess the attain- ments and powers of thought which the writer presupposes in his readers, he will find the work obscure. If the work is in- tended for those already informed on the subject, an acquaint- ance with the elementary notions and technical terms, the history of the science, and the various controversies that have been agitated, will be presumed; inferences may be drawn and allusions made, which will be unintelligible to others. 130. The use of general terms From the nature of the matter of didactic discourse, general terms are freely em- ployed. As these are but symbols w'hich do not convey dis- tinct images to the mind, they are liable to be misunderstood. It is a fault to accumulate them ; where it does not interfere with the ends of the discourse, concrete terms should be used. The excessive employment of abstract words gives an in- distinctness to the presentation. The idea may be gathered, but it requires an eflbrt, and the impression made is always feeble. The Latin element of our language is more extensively used in this species of composition than in any of the others. This is inevitable. Authors in whose writings upon popular sub- jects the Anglo-Saxon element predominates prefer Latin terms in scientific discussions. The use of technical terms. — The use of technical terms is a distinctive peculiarity of didactic prose. With the develop- ment of science, there must grow up a nomenclature. The generalizations of science are not those of the vulgar ; and the difference between scientific and loose popular thinking can not but be manifested in the use of language. The objections to Sec. 130 DIDACTIC PKOSE. 213 the employment of technical terms in scientific treatises are frivolous. Such terms are necessary for many reasons. (1) They are needed to express combinations of thoughts for which the language has no name. Many qualities and relations of objects which are neglected in popular thinking require to be specially designated in science. (2) Ordinary words are used loosely, and are applied to objects with which they have no real connection; clearness and distinctness require that such occasions of error be avoided. (3) Without technical terms, the work of scientific analysis and criticism is impossible. Many useless controversies have originated in a defective no- menclature, and many erroneous views have been perpetuated in the same manner. (4) Technical teians are conducive to brevity as well as to precision. They express by a single word combinations which, without them, could be conveyed but vaguely by a tedious circumlocution. One who understands the nomenclature of a science, possesses a large body of analy- ses, which he could not otherwise possess, and the means of clear and rapid thinking. Sources of technical terms. — Technical terms are formed in different ways. (1) New meanings are sometimes given to words in actual use. (2) "Words that have fallen into dis- use may be revi^'ed. (3) Compounds and derivatives may be formed from existing materials. (4) Terms may be drawn from foreign languages. The Latin, and more especially the Greek language, are well adapted to furnish terms for a scien- tific nomenclature. Kative terms are unfit, as they designate objects by some accidental, arbitrary relation, and often sug- gest erroneous views. Terms are required that express pre- cisely the object, without any disturbing or misleading associa- tions. Under what conditions to be used, — The use of technical terms is subject to the following conditions : 1. It is not necessary or even desirable to have a separate word for each distinct notion. To carry analysis so far gives 214 PEINCIPAL FORMS OF PROSE. Sec. 130 a complicated nomenclature harder to understand than tlie subject itself. 2. The technical term should express the idea with greater precision than the common word. 3. It should be formed according to the laws of the lan- guage. 4. It should be fitted to form compounds and conjugates. 5. It should be free from ambiguity, and be immediately intelligible. 131. Use of Figurative Language. — Figurative language is admissible only to a limited extent. Comparisons, illustra- ting the less known \)y what is better known, and contrast, are most frequently employed. The extended simile is jireferred to the metaphor. The figures are used to illustrate, and should be drawn from familiar objects. The frequent use of them imparts an air of flippancy to the style, and is often an indica- tion of a want of mastery of the subject. ^ In reference ,to the use of figures, and to style in general, every thing must be subordinated to the main end,— ^the setting forth of the truth. Beauty of style is not to be sought at the cost of the truth and logical perfection of the thoughts. What- ever excites feelings foreign to the matter in hand, or weakens the interest in the truth presented, is a blemish. A grave, simple style is the only one befitting this class of composi- tions. 132. Kinds of Scientific Prose. — To scientific prose belong text-books and disquisitions. 1. Text-books.—