The Project Gutenberg EBook of Composition-Rhetoric, by Stratton D. Brooks This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Composition-Rhetoric Author: Stratton D. Brooks Release Date: April 20, 2004 [EBook #12088] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COMPOSITION-RHETORIC *** Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, John R. Bilderback and PG Distributed Proofreaders COMPOSITION-RHETORIC BY STRATTON D. BROOKS _Superintendent of Schools, Boston, Mass._ AND MARIETTA HUBBARD _Formerly English Department, High School La Salle, Illinois_ * * * * * NEW YORK - CINCINNATI - CHICAGO AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 1905 STRATTON D. BROOKS. Entered at Stationers' Hall, London. * * * * * Brooks's Rhet. W.P. 10 To MARCIA STUART BROOKS Whose teaching first demonstrated to the authors that composition could become a delight and pleasure, this book is dedicated...... PREFACE The aim of this book is not to produce critical readers of literature, nor to prepare the pupil to answer questions about rhetorical theory, but to enable every pupil to express in writing, freely, clearly, and forcibly, whatever he may find within him worthy of expression. Three considerations of fundamental importance underlie the plan of the book:-- First, improvement in the performance of an act comes from the repetition of that act accompanied by a conscious effort to omit the imperfections of the former attempt. Therefore, the writing of a new theme in which, the pupil attempts to avoid the error which occurred in his former theme is of much greater educational value than is the copying of the old theme for the purpose of correcting the errors in it. To copy the old theme is to correct a result, to write a new theme correctly is to improve a process; and it is this improvement of process that is the real aim of composition teaching. Second, the logical arrangement of material should be subordinated to the needs of the pupils. A theoretical discussion of the four forms of discourse would require that each be completely treated in one place. Such a treatment would ignore the fact that a high school pupil has daily need to use each of the four forms of discourse, and that some assistance in each should be given him as early in his course as possible. The book, therefore, gives in Part 1 the elements of description, narration, exposition, and argument, and reserves for Part II a more complete treatment of each. In each part the effort has been made to adapt the material presented to the maturity and power of thought of the pupil. Third, expression cannot be compelled; it must be coaxed. Only under favorable conditions can we hope to secure that reaction of intellect and emotion which renders possible a full expression of self. One of the most important of these favorable conditions is that the pupil shall write something he wishes to write, for an audience which wishes to hear it. The authors have, therefore, suggested subjects for themes in which high school pupils are interested and about which they will wish to write. It is hoped that the work will be so conducted by the teacher that every theme will be read aloud before the class. It is essential that the criticism of a theme so read shall, in the main, be complimentary, pointing out and emphasizing those things which the pupil has done well; and that destructive criticism be largely impersonal and be directed toward a single definite point. Only thus may we avoid personal embarrassment to the pupil, give him confidence in himself, and assure him of a sympathetic audience--conditions essential to the effective teaching of composition. The plan of the book is as follows:-- 1. Part 1 provides a series of themes covering description, narration, exposition, and argument. The purpose is to give the pupil that inspiration and that confidence in himself which come from the frequent repetition of an act. 2. Each theme differs from the preceding usually by a single point, and the teaching effort should be confined to that point. Only a false standard of accuracy demands that every error be corrected every time it appears. Such a course loses sight of the main point in a multiplicity of details, renders instruction ineffective by scattering effort, produces hopeless confusion in the mind of the pupil, and robs composition of that inspiration without which it cannot succeed. In composition, as in other things, it is better to do but one thing at a time. 3. Accompanying the written themes is a series of exercises, each designed to emphasize the point presented in the text, but more especially intended to provide for frequent drills in oral composition. 4. Throughout the first four chapters the paragraph is the unit of composition, but for the sake of added interest some themes of greater length have been included. Chapter V, on the Whole Composition, serves as a review and summary of the methods of paragraph development, shows how to make the transition from one paragraph to another, and discusses the more important rhetorical principles underlying the union of paragraphs into a coherent and unified whole. 5. The training furnished by Part 1 should result in giving to the pupil some fluency of expression, some confidence in his ability to make known to others that which he thinks and feels, and some power to determine that the theme he writes, however rough-hewn and unshapely it may be, yet in its major outlines follows closely the thought that is within his mind. If the training has failed to give the pupil this power, it will be of little advantage to him to have mastered some of the minor matters of technique, or to have learned how to improve his phrasing, polish his sentences, and distribute his commas. 6. Part II provides a series of themes covering the same ground as Part I, but the treatment of these themes is more complete and the material is adapted to the increased maturity and thought power of the pupils. By means of references the pupils are directed to all former treatments of the topics they are studying. 7. Part II discusses some topics usually treated in college courses in rhetoric. These have been included for three reasons: first, because comparatively few high school pupils go to college; second, because the increased amount of time now given to composition enables the high school to cover a wider field than formerly; and third, because such topics can be studied with profit by pupils in the upper years of the high school course. 8. It is not intended that the text shall be recited. Its purpose is to furnish a basis for discussion between teacher and pupils before the pupils attempt to write. The real test of the pupils' mastery of a principle discussed in the text will be their ability to put it into practice. Any judgment of the success or failure of the book should be based upon the quality of the themes which the pupils write. Criticisms and suggestions will be welcomed from those who use the book. The authors wish to express their obligation for advice and assistance to Professor Edward Fulton, Department of Rhetoric, University of Illinois; Messrs. Gilbert S. Blakely and H. E. Foster, Instructors in English, Morris High School, New York; Miss Elizabeth Richardson, Girls' High School, Boston; Miss Katherine H. Shute, Boston Normal School; Miss E. Marguerite Strauchon, Kansas City High School. The selections from Hawthorne, Longfellow, Lowell, Holmes, Whittier, Warner, Burroughs, Howells, and Trowbridge are used by permission of and by special arrangement with Hoaghton, Mifflin, and Company, publishers of their works. Grateful acknowledgment is made to Harper and Brothers; The Century Company; Doubleday, Page, and Company; and Charles Scribner's Sons for permission to use the selections to which their names are attached: to the publishers of the _Forum, Century, Atlantic Monthly, McClure's, Harper's, Scribner's_, and the _Outlook_ for permission to use extracts: and to Scott, Foresman, and Company; D. Appleton and Company; Henry Holt and Company; G. P. Putnam's Sons; Thomas Y. Crowell and Company; and Benjamin H. Sanborn and Company for permission to use copyrighted material. CONTENTS PART I 1. Expression of Ideas arising from Experience II. Expression of Ideas furnished by Imagination III. Expression of Ideas acquired through Language IV. The Purpose of Expression V. The Whole Composition VI. Letter Writing VII. Poetry PART II VIII. Description IX. Narration X. Exposition XI. Argument Appendix I. Elements of Form II. Review of Grammar III. Figures of Speech IV. The Rhetorical Features of the Sentence V. List of Synonyms VI. List of Words for Exercise in Word Usage Index PART 1 1. EXPRESSION OF IDEAS ARISING FROM EXPERIENCE +1. Pleasure in Expressing Ideas.+--Though we all enjoy talking, we cannot write so easily as we talk, nor with the same pleasure. We seldom talk about topics in which we are not interested and concerning which we know little or nothing, but we often have such topics assigned to us as subjects for compositions. Under such conditions it is no wonder that there is little pleasure in writing. The ideas that we express orally are those with which we are familiar and in which we are interested, and we tell them because we wish to tell them to some one who is likewise interested and who desires to hear what we have to say. Such expression of ideas is enjoyed by all. If we but choose to express the same kinds of ideas and for the same reason, there is an equal or even greater pleasure to be derived from the expression of ideas in writing. The purpose of this book is to show you how to express ideas _clearly, effectively_, and _with pleasure_. +2. Sources of Ideas.+--We must have ideas before we can express them. There are three sources from which ideas arise. We may gain them from experience; we may recombine them into new forms by the imagination; and we may receive them from others through the medium of language, either by conversation or by reading. Every day we add to our knowledge through our senses. We see and hear and do, and thus, through experience, acquire ideas about things. By far the greater part of expression has to do with ideas that have originated in this way. The first chapter in this book is concerned with the expression of ideas gained through experience. We may, however, think about things that have not actually occurred. We may allow our minds to picture a football game that we have not seen, or to plan a story about a boy who never existed. Nearly every one takes pleasure in such an exercise of the imagination. The second chapter has to do with the expression of ideas of this kind. We also add to our knowledge through the medium of language. Through conversation and reading we learn what others think, and it is often of value to restate these ideas. The expression of ideas so acquired is treated in the third chapter. +3. Advantages of Expressing Ideas Gained from Experience.+--Young people sometimes find difficulty in writing because they "have nothing to say." Such a reason will not hold in regard to ideas gained from experience. Every one has a multitude of experiences every day, and wishes to tell about some of them. Many of the things which happen to you or to your friends, especially some which occur outside of the regular routine of school work, are interesting and worth telling about. Thus experience furnishes an abundance of material suitable for composition purposes, and this material is of the best because the ideas are _sure to be your own_. The first requisite of successful composition is to have thoughts of your own. The expressing of ideas that are not your own is mere copy work, and seldom worth doing. Ideas acquired through experience are not only interesting and your own, but they are likely to be _clear_ and _definite_. You know what you do and what you see; or, if you do not, the effort to express your ideas so that they will be clear to others will make you observe closely for yourself. Still another advantage comes from the fact that your experiences are not presented to you through the medium of language. When experience furnishes the ideas, you are left free to choose for yourself the words that best set forth what you wish to tell. The things of your experience are the things with which you are most familiar, and therefore the words that best apply to them are those which you most often use and whose meanings are best known to you. Because experience supplies an abundance of interesting, clear, and definite ideas, which are your own and which may be expressed in familiar language, it furnishes better material for training in expression than does either imagination or reading. +4. Essentials of Expression.+--The proper expression of ideas depends upon the observance of two essentials: first, you should say what you mean; and second, you should say it clearly. Without these, what you say may be not only valueless, but positively misleading. If you wish your hearer to understand what occurred at a certain time and place, you must first of all know yourself exactly what did occur. Then you must express it in language that shall make him understand it as clearly as you do. You will learn much about clearness, later; but even now you can tell whether you know what is meant by each sentence which you hear or read. It is not so easy to tell whether what you say will convey clearly to another the meaning you intend to convey, but you will be helped in this if you ask yourself the questions: "Do I know exactly what happened?" "Have I said what I intended to say?" "Have I said it so that it will be clear to the listener?" +Oral Composition 1.+--_Report orally on one of the following:_-- 1. Were you so interested in anything yesterday that you told it to your parents or friends? Tell the class about it. 2. Tell about something that you have done this week, so that the class may know exactly what you did. 3. Name some things in which you have been interested within the last two or three months. Tell the class about one of them. 4. Tell the class about something that happened during vacation. Have you told the event exactly as it occurred? +5. Interest.+--In order to enjoy listening to a story we must take an interest in it, and the story should be so told as to arouse and maintain this interest. As you have listened to the reports of your classmates you have been more pleased with some than with others. Even though the meaning of each was clear, yet the interest aroused was in each case different. Since the purpose of a story is to entertain, any story falls short of its purpose when it ceases to be interesting. We must at all times say what we mean and say it clearly; but in story telling especially we must also take care that what we say shall arouse and maintain interest. +6. The Introduction.+--The story of an event should be introduced in such a manner as to enable the hearer to understand the circumstances that are related. Such an introduction contributes to clearness and has an important bearing upon the interest of the entire composition. In order to render our account of an event clear and interesting it is usually desirable to tell the hearers _when_ and _where_ the event occurred and _who_ were present. Their understanding of it may be helped further by telling such of the attendant circumstances as will answer the question, _Why_? If I begin my story by saying, "Last summer John Anderson and I were on a camping trip in the Adirondacks," I have told when, where, and who; and the addition of the words "on a camping trip" tells why we were in the Adirondacks, and may serve to explain some of the events that are to follow. Even the statement of the place indicates in some degree the trend of the story, for many things that might occur "in the Adirondacks" could not occur in a country where there are no mountains. Certainly the story that would follow such an introduction would be expected to differ from one beginning with the words, "Last summer John Anderson and I went to visit a friend in New York." It is not always necessary to tell when, where, who, and why in the introduction, but it is desirable to do so in most cases of oral story telling. These four elements may not always be stated in incidents taken from books, for the reader may be already familiar with them from the preceding portions of the book. The title of a printed or written story may serve as an introduction and give us all needed information. In relating personal incidents the time element is seldom omitted, though it may be stated indirectly or indefinitely by such expressions as "once" or 'lately.' In many stories the interest depends upon the plot, and the time is not definitely stated. EXERCISE Notice what elements are included in each of the following introductions:-- 1. Saturday last at Mount Holly, about eight miles from this place, nearly three hundred people were gathered together to see an experiment or two tried on some persons accused of witchcraft. 2. On the morning of the 10th instant at sunrise, they were discovered from Put-in-Bay, where I lay at anchor with the squadron under my command. 3. It was on Sunday when I awoke to the realization that I had quitted civilization and was afloat on an unfamiliar body of water in an open boat. 4. Up and down the long corn rows Pap Overholt guided the old mule and the small, rickety, inefficient plow, whose low handles bowed his tall, broad shoulders beneath the mild heat of a mountain June sun. As he went--ever with a furtive eye upon the cabin--he muttered to himself, shaking his head. 5. After breakfast, I went down to the Saponey Indian town, which is about a musket shot from the fort. 6. The lonely stretch of uphill road, upon whose yellow clay the midsummer sun beat vertically down, would have represented a toilsome climb to a grown and unencumbered man. To the boy staggering under the burden of a brimful carpet bag, it seemed fairly unscalable; wherefore he stopped at its base and looked up in dismay to its far-off, red-hot summit. 7. One afternoon last summer, three or four people from New York, two from Boston, and a young man from the Middle West were lunching at one of the country clubs on the south shore of Long Island, and there came about a mild discussion of the American universities. 8. "But where is the station?" inquired the Judge. "Ain't none, boss. Dis heah is jes a crossing. Train's about due now, sah; you-all won't hab long fer to wait. Thanky, sah; good-by; sorry you-all didn't find no birds." The Judge picked up his gun case and grip and walked toward his two companions waiting on the platform a few yards away. Silhouetted against the moonlight they made him think of the figure 10, for Mr. Appleton was tall and erect, and the little Doctor short and circular. 9. I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate bolts undrew, "Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through. Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. --Browning. +Oral Composition II.+--_Relate orally to the class some incident in which you were personally concerned._ The following may suggest a subject:-- 1. How I made friends with the squirrels. 2. A trick of a tame crow. 3. Why I missed the train. 4. How a horse was rescued. 5. Lost and found. 6. My visit to a menagerie. (When preparing to relate this incident ask yourself first whether you know exactly what happened. Consider then how to begin the story so that your hearer will know when and where it happened and who were there. Include in the beginning any statement that will assist the reader in understanding the events which follow.) +7. The Point of a Story.+--It is not necessary that a story be concerned with a thrilling event in order to be interesting. Even a most commonplace occurrence may be so told that it is worth listening to. It is more important that a story have a point and be so told that this point will be readily appreciated than that it deal with important or thrilling events. The story should lead easily and rapidly to its point, and when this is reached the end of the story should not be far distant. The beginning of a story will contain statements that will assist us in appreciating the point when we come to it, but if the point is plainly stated near the beginning, or even if it is too strongly suggested, our story will drag. At what point in the following selection is the interest greatest? During the Civil War, I lived in that portion of Tennessee which was alternately held by the conflicting armies. My father and brothers were away, as were all the other men in the neighborhood, except a few very old ones and some half-grown boys. Mother and I were in constant fear of injury from stragglers from both armies. We had never been disturbed, for our farm was a mile or more back from the road along which such detachments usually moved. We had periods of comparative quiet in which we felt at ease, and then would come reports of depredation near at hand, or rumors of the presence of marauding bands in neighboring settlements. One evening such a rumor came to us, and we were consequently anxious. Early next morning, before the fog had lifted, I caught sight of two men crossing the road at the far end of the orchard. They jumped over the fence into the orchard and disappeared among the trees. I had but a brief glimpse of them, but it was sufficient to show me that one had a gun over his shoulder, while the other carried a saber. "Quick, Mother, quick!" I cried. "Come to the window. There are soldiers in the orchard." Keeping out of sight, we watched the progress of the men through the orchard. Our brief glimpses of them through the trees showed that they were not coming directly to the house, but were headed for the barn and sheds, and in order to keep out of sight, were following a slight ravine which ran across the orchard and led to the back of the barns. Mother and I were very much excited and hardly knew what to do. Finally it was determined to hide upstairs in hopes that the men were bent on stealing chickens or pigs, and might leave without disturbing the house. We locked the doors and went upstairs, taking with us the old musket and the butcher knife. We could hear the men about the barn, and after what seemed an interminable time we heard them coming towards the house. Though shaking all over, I summoned courage enough to go to the window and look out of a hole in the shade. As the men came into sight around the corner, I screamed outright, but from relief rather than fear, for the men were not soldiers, but Grandpa Smith and his fourteen-year-old grandson. They stopped at the well to get a drink, and when we opened the window, the old man said, "We're just on our way to mow the back lot and stopped to grind the scythe on your stone. We broke ours yesterday." Then he picked up the scythe which in the fog I had taken for a saber, while the grandson again shouldered his pitchfork musket. What effect would it have on the interest aroused by the preceding story to begin it as follows? "One morning during the Civil War, I saw two of my neighbors, Grandpa Smith and his grandson, crossing our orchard, one carrying a scythe and the other a pitchfork." Why is the expression, "before the fog had lifted," used near the beginning of the story? Would a description of the appearance of the house, the barn, or the persons add to the interest aroused by the story? Is it necessary to add anything to the story? EXERCISE In each of the following selections decide where the interest reaches its climax. Has anything been said in the beginning of any of them which suggests what the point will be, or which helps you to appreciate it when you come to it? 1. The next evening our travelers encamped on a sand bar, or rather a great bank of sand, that ran for miles along one side of the river. They kept watch as usual, Leon taking the first turn. He seated himself on a pile of sand and did his best to keep awake; but in about an hour after the rest were asleep, he felt very drowsy and fell into a nap that lasted nearly half an hour, and might have continued longer had he not slid down the sand hill and tumbled over on his side. This awoke him. Feeling vexed with himself, he rubbed his eyes and looked about to see if any creature had ventured near. He first looked towards the woods, for of course that was the direction from which the tigers would come; but he had scarcely turned himself when he perceived a pair of eyes glancing at him from the other side of the fire. Close to them another pair, then another and another, until, having looked on every side, he saw himself surrounded by a complete circle of glancing eyes. It is true they were small ones, and some of the heads which he could see by the blaze were small. They were not jaguars, but they had an ugly look. They looked like the heads of serpents. Was it possible that a hundred serpents could have surrounded the camp? Brought suddenly to his feet, Leon stood for some moments uncertain what to do. He believed that the eyes belonged to snakes which had just crept out of the river; and he feared that any movement on his part would lead them to attack him. Having risen to his feet, his eyes were above the level of the blaze, and he was able in a little while to see more clearly. He now saw that the snakelike heads belonged to creatures with large oval bodies, and that, besides the fifty or more which had come up to look at the fire, there were whole droves of them upon the sandy beach beyond. As far as he could see on all sides, the bank was covered with them. A strange sight it was, and most fearful. For his life he could not make out what it meant, or by what sort of wild animals he was surrounded. He could see that their bodies were not larger than those of small sheep; and, from the way in which they glistened in the moonlight, he was sure they had come out of the river. He called to the Indian guide, who awoke and started to his feet in alarm. The movement frightened the creatures round the fire; they rushed to the shore, and were heard plunging by hundreds into the water. The Indian's ear caught the sounds, and his eye took in the whole thing at a glance. "Turtles," he said. "Oh," said the lad; "turtles, are they?" "Yes, master," answered the guide. "I suppose this is one of their great hatching places. They are going to lay their eggs in the sand." --Captain Mayne Reid. Would the preceding incident be interesting if we were told at the beginning that the boy and the Indian had encamped near a hatching place of turtles? 2. Not every story that reads like fiction is fact, but the _Brooklyn Eagle_ assures its readers that the one here quoted is quite true. The man who told it was for many years an officer of the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroad Company in Illinois, and had annual passes over all the important railroads in the country. His duties took him to Springfield, the state capital, and as he generally went by the Chicago, Alton & St. Louis road, the conductors on that line knew him so well that they never asked to see his pass. "One day I received a telegram summoning me to meet one of the officers of my company at Aurora the next morning. I had only a short time to catch my train to Chicago, and in my haste left my passbook behind. I did not find this out until I reached Chicago, and was about to take the last train for Aurora that night. Then I saw that the conductor, a man brought over from the Iowa division, was a stranger, and the fact that I would need my pass reminded me that I did not have it. "I told the conductor the situation, but he said he could not carry me on my mere representation that I had a pass. "Why, man," said I, "I am an officer of the company, going to Aurora on company business, and this is the last train that will get me there in time. You must take me." "He was polite, but firm. He said he was a new man on this division, and could not afford to make any mistakes. "When I saw that he was determined, I rushed off to the telegraph office; but it was too late to catch anybody authorized to issue passes, so I settled it in my mind that I must go by carriage, and the prospect of an all-night ride over bad roads through the dark was anything but inviting. Indeed, it was so forbidding that I resolved to make one more appeal to the conductor. "You simply must take me to Aurora!" I said, with intense earnestness. "I can't do it," he answered. "But I believe you are what you represent yourself to be, and I will lend you the money personally. It is only one dollar and twelve cents." "Well, sir, you could have knocked me down with the flat side of a palm-leaf fan. I had more than two thousand dollars in currency in my pocket, but it had never for an instant occurred to me that I could pay my fare and ride on that train. I showed the conductor a wad of money that made his eyes stick out. "I thought it was funny," said he, "that a man in your position couldn't raise one dollar and twelve cents. It was that that made me believe you were playing a trick to see if I would violate the rule." "The simple truth was, I had ridden everywhere on passes so many years, that it did not occur to me that I could ride in any other way." +Oral Composition III.+[Footnote: Oral compositions should be continued throughout the course. A few minutes may be profitably used once or twice each week in having each member of the class stand before the class and relate briefly some incident which he has witnessed since the last meeting of the class. Exercises like those on page 53 also will furnish opportunities for oral work.]--_Relate to the class some personal incident suggested by one of the following subjects_:-- 1. A day with my cousin. 2. Caught in the act. 3. A joke on me. 4. My peculiar mistake. 5. My experience on a farm. 6. My experience in a strange Sunday school. 7. What I saw when I was coming to school. (In preparation for this exercise, consider the point of your story. What must you tell first in order to enable the hearers to understand the point? Can you say anything that will make them want to know what the point is without really telling them? Can you lead up to it without too long a delay? Can you stop when the point has been made?) +8. Theme Writing and Correcting.+--Any written exercise, whether long or short, is called a theme throughout this book. Just as one learns to skate by skating, so one learns to write by writing; therefore many themes will be required. Since the clear expression of thought is one of the essential characteristics of every theme, theme correction should be primarily directed to improvement in clearness. The teacher will need to assist in this correction, but the really valuable part is that which you do for yourself. After you leave school you will need to decide for yourself what is right and what is best, and it is essential that you now learn how to make such decisions. To aid you in acquiring a habit of self-correction, questions or suggestions follow the directions for writing each theme. In Theme I you are to express clearly to others something that is already clear to you. +Theme I.+-_Write a short theme on one of the subjects that you have used for an oral composition._ (After writing this theme, read it aloud to yourself. Does it read smoothly? Have you told what actually happened? Have you told it so that the hearers will understand you? Have you said what you meant to say? Consider the introduction. Has the story a point?) +9. The Conclusion.+--Since the point of a story marks the climax of interest, it is evident that the conclusion must not be long delayed after the point has been reached. If the story has been well told, the point marks the natural conclusion, and a sentence or two will serve to bring the story to a satisfactory end. If a suitable ending does not suggest itself, it is better to omit the conclusion altogether than to construct a forced or flowery one. Notice the conclusion of the incident of the Civil War related on page 18. +Theme II.+-_Write a short theme suggested by one of the following subjects:_-- 1. A school picnic. 2. A race. 3. The largest fire I have seen. 4. A skating accident. 5. A queer mistake. 6. An experience with a tramp. (Correct with reference to meaning and clearness. Consider the introduction; the point; the conclusion.) +10. Observation of Actions.+--Many of our most interesting experiences arise from observing the actions of others. A written description of what we have observed will gain in interest to the reader, if, in addition to telling what was done, we give some indication of the way in which it was done. A list of tools a carpenter uses and the operations he performs during the half hour we watch him, may be dull and uninteresting; but our description may have an added value if it shows his manner of working so that the reader can determine whether the carpenter is an orderly, methodical, and rapid worker or a mere putterer who is careless, haphazard, and slow. Two persons will perform similar actions in very different ways. Our description should be so worded as to show what the differences are. +Theme III.+--_Write a theme relating actions._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. A mason, blacksmith, painter, or other mechanic at work. 2. How my neighbor mows his lawn. 3. What a man does when his automobile breaks down. 4. Describe the actions of a cat, dog, rabbit, squirrel, or other animal. 5. Watch the push-cart man a half-hour and report what he did. (Have you told exactly what was done? Can you by the choice of suitable words show more plainly the way in which it was done? Does this theme need to have an introduction? A point? A conclusion?) +11. Selection of Details.+--You are at present concerned with telling events that actually happen; but this does not mean that you need to include everything that occurs. If you wish to tell a friend about some interesting or exciting incident at a picnic, he will not care to hear everything that took place during the day. He may listen politely to a statement of what train you took and what you had in your lunch basket, but he will be little interested in such details. In order to maintain interest, the point of your story must not be too long delayed. Brevity is desirable, and details that bear little relation to the main point, and that do not prepare the listener to understand and appreciate this point, are better omitted. +Theme IV.+--_Write about something that you have done. Use any of the following subjects, or one suggested by them:_-- 1. My first hunt. 2. Why I was tardy. 3. My first fishing trip. 4. My narrow escape. 5. A runaway. 6. What I did last Saturday. (Read the theme aloud to yourself. Does it read smoothly? Have you said what you meant to say? Have you expressed it clearly? Consider the introduction; the point; the conclusion. Reject unnecessary details.) +12. Order of Events.+--The order in which events occur will assist in establishing the order in which to relate them. If you are telling about only one person, you can follow the time order of the events as they actually happened; but if you are telling about two or more persons who were doing different things at the same time, you will need to tell first what one did and then what another did. You must, however, make it clear to the reader that, though you have told one event after the other, they really happened at the same time. In the selection below notice how the italicized portions indicate the relation in time that the different events bear to one another. At the beach yesterday a fat woman and her three children caused a great commotion. They had rigged themselves out in hired suits which might be described as an average fit, for that of the mother was as much too small as those of the children were too large. They trotted gingerly out into the surf, wholly unconscious that the crowd of beach loungers had, for the time, turned their attention from each other to the quartet in the water. By degrees the four worked out farther and farther until a wave larger than usual washed the smallest child entirely off his feet, and caused the mother to scream lustily for help. The people on the beach started up, and two or three men hastened to the rescue, but their progress was impeded by the crowd of frightened girls and women _who were scrambling and splashing towards the shore_. The mother's frantic efforts to reach the little boy were rendered ineffectual by the two girls, _who at the moment of the first alarm had been strangled_ by the salt water and _were now clinging_ desperately to her arms and _attempting_ to climb up to her shoulders. _Meanwhile_, the lifeboat man was rowing rapidly towards the scene, but it seemed to the onlookers _who had rushed to the platform railing_ that he would never arrive. _At the same time_ a young man, _who had started from the diving raft some time before_, was swimming towards shore with powerful strokes. He _now_ reached the spot, caught hold of the boy, and lifted him into the lifeboat, which had _at last_ arrived. Such expressions as _meanwhile, in the meantime, during, at last, while_, etc., are regularly used to denote the kind of time relations now under discussion. They should be used when they avoid confusion, but often a direct transition from one set of actions to another can be made without their use. Notice also the use of the relative clause to indicate time relations. +Theme V.+-_Write a short theme, using some one of the subjects named under the preceding themes or one suggested by them. Select one which you have not already used._ (Have you told enough to enable the reader to follow easily the thread of the story and to understand what you meant to tell? If your theme is concerned with more than one set of activities, have you made the transition from one to another in such a way as to be clear to the reader? Have you expressed the transitions with the proper time relations? What other questions should you ask yourself while correcting this theme?) SUMMARY 1. There is a pleasure to be derived from the expression of ideas. 2. There are three sources of ideas: experience, imagination, language. 3. Ideas gained from experience may be advantageously used for composition purposes because-- _a._ They are interesting. _b._ They are your own. _c._ They are likely to be clear and definite. _d._ They offer free choice of language. 4. The two essentials of expression are-- _a._ To say what you mean. _b._ To say it clearly. 5. A story should be told so as to arouse and maintain interest. Therefore,-- _a._ The introduction usually tells when, where, who, and why. _b._ Every story worth telling has a point. _c._ Only such details are included as are essential to the development of the point. _d._ The conclusion is brief. The story comes to an end shortly after the point is told. 6. Care must be taken to indicate the time order, especially when two or more events occur at the same time. 7. The correction of one's own theme is the most valuable form of correction. II. EXPRESSION OF IDEAS FURNISHED BY IMAGINATION +13. Relation of Imagination to Experience.+--All ideas are based upon and spring from experience, and the imagination merely places them in new combinations. For the purpose of this book, however, it is convenient to distinguish those themes that relate real events as they actually occurred from those themes that relate events that did not happen. That body of writing which we call literature is largely composed of works of an imaginative character, and for this reason it has sometimes been carelessly assumed that in order to write one must be possessed of an excellent imagination. Such an assumption loses sight of the fact that imaginative writings cover but one small part of the whole field. The production of literature is the business of a few, while every one has occasion every day to express ideas. It is evident that by far the greater part of the ideas we are called upon to express do not require the use of the imagination, but exercises in writing themes of an imaginative character are given here because there is pleasure in writing such themes and because practice in writing them will aid us in stating clearly and effectively the many ideas arising from our daily experiences. +14. Advantages and Disadvantages of Imaginative Theme Writing.+--Ideas furnished by the imagination are no less your own than are those furnished by experience, and the same freedom in the choice of language prevails. Such ideas are, however, not likely to be so clear and definite. At the time of their occurrence they do not make so deep and vital an impression upon you. If not recorded as they occur, they can seldom be recalled in the original form. Even though you attempt to write these imaginary ideas as you think them, you can and do change and modify them as you go along. This lack of clearness and permanent form, while it seems to give greater freedom, carries with it disadvantages. In the first place the ideas are less likely to be worth recording, and in the second place it is more difficult to give them a unity and directness of statement that will hold the attention and interest of the reader until the chief point is reached. +15. Probability.+--Not everything that the imagination may furnish is equally worth expressing. If you choose to write about something for which imagination supplies the ideas, you may create for yourself such ideas as you wish. Their order of occurrence and their time and place are not determined by outward events, but solely by the mind itself. The events are no longer real and actual, but may be changed and rearranged without limit. An imaginative series of events may conform closely to the real and probable, or it may be manifestly improbable. Which will be of greater interest will depend upon the reader, but it will be found that the story which comes nearest to reality is most satisfactory. In relating fairy tales we confessedly attempt to tell events not possible in the real world, but in relating tales of real life, however imaginary, we should tell the events so that everything seems both possible and probable. An imaginative story, in which the persons seem to be real persons who do and say the things that real persons do and say, will be found much more satisfactory than a story that depends for its outcome on something manifestly impossible. He who really does the best in imaginative writing is the one who has most closely observed the real events of everyday life, and states his imaginary events so that they seem real. +Theme VI.+--_Write a short theme, using one of the subjects below. You need not tell something that actually happened, but what you tell should be so told that your readers will think it might have happened._ 1. A trip in a sailboat. 2. The travels of a penny. 3. How I was lost. 4. A cat's account of a mouse hunt. 5. The mouse's account of the same hunt. 6. My experience with a burglar. 7. The burglar's story. +16. Euphony.+--Besides clearness in a composition there are other desirable qualities. To one of these, various names have been applied, as "euphony," "ease," "elegance," "beauty," etc. Of two selections equally clear in meaning one may be more pleasing than the other. One may seem harsh and rough, while the other flows along with a satisfying ease and smoothness. If the thought that is in our mind fails to clothe itself in suitable language and appropriate figures, we can do little by conscious effort toward improving the beauty of the language; but by avoiding choppy sentences and inharmonious combinations of words and phrases, we may remove from our compositions much that is harsh and rough. That quality which we call ease or euphony is better detected by the ear than by the eye, and for this reason it has been suggested that you read each theme aloud to yourself before presenting it to the class. Such a reading will assist you to determine whether you have made your meaning clear and to eliminate some of the more disagreeable combinations. +17. Variety.+--Of the many elements which affect the euphony of a theme none is more essential than variety. The constant repetition of the same thing grows monotonous and distasteful, while a pleasing variety maintains interest and improves the story. For the sake of this variety we avoid the continual use of the same words and phrases, substituting synonyms and equivalent expressions if we have need to repeat the same idea many times. Most children begin every sentence of a story with "and," or perhaps it is better to say that they conclude many sentences with "and-uh," leaving the thought in suspense while they are trying to think of what to say next. High school pupils are not wholly free from this habit, and it is sometimes retained in their written work. This excessive use of _and_ needs to be corrected. An examination of our language habits will show that nearly every one has one or more words which he uses to excess. A professor of rhetoric, after years of correcting others, discovered by underscoring the word _that_ each time it occurred in his own writing that he was using it twice as often as necessary. _Got_ is one of the words used too frequently, and often incorrectly. EXERCISES 1. In the following selection notice how each sentence begins. Compare it with one of your own themes. I was witness to events of a less peaceful character. One day when I went out to my woodpile, or rather my pile of stumps, I observed two large ants, the one red, and the other much larger, nearly half an inch long, and black, fiercely contending with each other. Having once got hold, they never let go, but struggled and wrestled and rolled on the chips incessantly. Looking farther, I was surprised to find that the chips were covered with such combatants; that it was not a _duellum_, but a _bellum_,--a war between two races of ants, the red always pitted against the black, and frequently two red ones to one black. The legions of these Myrmidons covered all the hills and vales in my woodyard, and the ground was already strewn with the dead and the dying, both red and black. It was the only battle which I have ever witnessed--the only battlefield I ever trod while the battle was raging.... On every side they were engaged in deadly combat, yet without any noise that I could hear, and human soldiers never fought so resolutely.--Thoreau. 2. Examine one of your own themes. If some word occurs frequently, underscore it each time, and then substitute words or expressions for it in as many places as you can. If necessary, reconstruct the sentences so as to avoid using the word in some cases. Notice how these substitutions give a variety to your expression and improve the euphony of your composition. Theme VII.--_Write a short story suggested by one of the following subjects:_-- 1. The trout's revenge. 2. A sparrow's mistake. 3. A fortunate shot. 4. The freshman and the professor. 5. What the bookcase thought about it. (Correct with reference to meaning and clearness. Cross out unnecessary _ands_. Consider the beginnings of the sentences. Can you improve the euphony by a different choice of words?) 18. Sentence Length.--Euphony is aided by securing a variety in the length of sentences. In endeavoring to avoid the excessive use of _and_, some pupils obtain results illustrated by the following example:-- Jean passed through the door of the church. He saw a child sitting on one of the stone steps. She was fast asleep in the midst of the snow. The child was thinly clad. Her feet, cold as it was, were bare. A theme composed wholly of such a succession of short sentences is tedious. Especially when read aloud does its monotony become apparent. Though the thought in each sentence is complete, the effect is not satisfactory to the reader, because the thought of the whole does not come to him as fast as his mind can act. Such an arrangement of sentences might be satisfactory to young children, because it would agree with their habits of thought; but as one grows in ability to think more rapidly, he finds that longer and more complicated sentences best express his thoughts and are best understood by those for whom he writes. We introduce sentences of different length and different structure, because they more clearly express the thought of the whole and state it in a form more in accordance with the mental activity of the hearer. When we have done this, we at the same time secure a variety that avoids monotony. In attempting to avoid a series of short sentences, care should be taken not to go to the other extreme. Sentences should not be overloaded. Too many adjectives or participles or subordinate clauses will render the meaning obscure. The number of phrases and clauses that may safely be introduced will be determined by the ability of the mind to grasp the meaning readily and accurately. It is sometimes quite as important to separate a long sentence into shorter ones as it is to combine short ones into those of greater length. Notice in the following selection the different ways in which several ideas have been brought into the same sentence without rendering the meaning obscure:-- Loki made his way across a vast desert moorland, and came, after three days, into the barren hill country and among the rugged mountains of the South. There an earthquake had split the rocks asunder, and opened dark and bottomless gorges, and hollowed out many a low-walled cavern, where the light of day was never seen. Along deep, winding ways, Loki went, squeezing through narrow crevices, creeping under huge rocks, and gliding through crooked clefts, until he came at last into a great underground hall, where his eyes were dazzled by a light that was stronger and brighter than the day; for on every side were glowing fires, roaring in wonderful little gorges, and blown by wonderful little bellows. +Theme VIII.+--_Write a story suggested by one of the following subjects:_-- 1. School in the year 2000. 2. The lost door key. 3. Our big bonfire. 4. Kidnapped. 5. A bear hunt. 6. A mistake in the telegram. 7. How Fido rescued his master. (Can you render the meaning more clear by uniting short sentences into longer ones, or by separating long sentences into shorter ones? Can you omit any _ands_? How many of the sentences begin with the same word? Can you change any of those words? Pick out the words which show the subordinate relation of some parts to others. Do all of the incidents in your story seem probable?) +19. Conversation.+--It must not be inferred from the preceding section that short sentences are never to be used. They are quite as necessary as long ones, and in some cases, such as the portraying of strong emotion, are more effective. Even a succession of short sentences may be used with good results to describe rapid action. In conversation, also, sentences are generally short, and often grammatically incomplete, though they may be understood by the hearer. Sometimes this incompleteness is justified by the idiom of the language, but more often it is the result of carelessness on the part of the speaker. The hearer understands what is said either because he knows about what to expect, or because the expression is a familiar one. Such carelessness not only causes the omission of words grammatically necessary, but brings about the incorrect pronunciation of words and their faulty combination into sentences. You speak much more often than you write. Your habits of speech are likely to become permanent and your errors of speech will creep into your written work. It is important therefore that you watch your spoken language. Occasions will arise when the slang expressions that you so freely use will seem inappropriate, and it will be unfortunate indeed if you find that you have used the slang so long that you have no other words to take their place. An abbreviated form of _gymnasium_ or of _mathematics_ may not attract attention among your schoolmates, but there are circles where such abbreviations are not used. By watching your own speech you will find that some incorrect forms are very common. Improvement can be made by giving your attention to one of them, such as the use of _guess_, or of _got_, or of _don't_ and _doesn't_. In making a written report of conversation you should remember that short sentences predominate. A conversation composed of long sentences would seem stilted and made to order. What each person says, however short, is put into a separate division and indented. Explanatory matter accompanying the conversation is placed with the spoken part to which it most closely relates. Notice the indentations and the use of quotation marks in several printed reports of conversation. +20. Ideas from Pictures.+--If you look at a picture and then attempt to tell some one else what you see, you will express ideas gained by experience. A picture may, however, cause a very different set of ideas to arise. Look at the picture on page 38. Can you imagine the circumstances that preceded the situation shown by the picture? Or again, can you not begin with that situation and imagine what would be done next? If you write out either of the series of events, the theme, though suggested by the picture, will be composed of ideas furnished by the imagination. In the writing of a story suggested by a picture, the situation given in the picture should be made the point of greatest interest, and should be accounted for by relating a series of events supposed to have preceded it. +Theme IX.+--_Write a story that will account for the condition shown in the picture on page 38._ (Correct with reference to clearness and meaning. Do you need to change the sentence length either for the sake of clearness or for the sake of variety? Cross out unnecessary _ands_. Underscore _got_ and _then_ each time you have used them. Can the reader follow the thread of your story to its chief point?) [Illustration] +21. Vocabulary.+--A word is the symbol of an idea, and the addition of a word to one's vocabulary usually means that a new idea has been acquired. The more we see and hear and read, the greater our stock of ideas becomes. As our life experiences increase, so should our supply of words increase. We may have ideas without having the words with which to express them, and we may meet with words whose meanings we do not know. In either case there is chance for improvement. When you have a new idea, find out how best to express it, and when you meet with a new word, add it to your vocabulary. It is necessary to distinguish between our reading vocabulary and our writing vocabulary. There are many words that belong only to the first. We know what they mean when we meet them in our reading, but we do not use them in our writing. Our speaking vocabulary also differs from that which we employ in writing. We use words and phrases on paper that seldom appear in our speech, and, on the other hand, many of the words that we speak do not appear in our writing. There is, however, a constant shifting of words from one to another of these three groups. When we meet an unknown word, it usually becomes a part of our reading vocabulary. Later it may appear in our written work, and finally we may use it in speaking. We add a word to our reading vocabulary when we determine its meaning, but _we must use it_ in order to add it to our writing and speaking vocabulary. A conscious effort to aid in this acquisition of words is highly desirable. A limited vocabulary indicates limited ideas. If one is limited to _awfully_ in order to express a superlative; if his use of adjectives is restricted to _nice, jolly, lovely_, and _elegant;_ if he must always _abominate_ and never _abhor_, _detest, dislike_, or _loathe;_ if he can only _adore_ and not _admire, respect, revere_, or _venerate_,--then he has failed, indeed, to know the possibilities and beauties of English. Such a language habit shows a mind that has failed to distinguish between ideas. The best way to study the shades of meaning and the choice of words is in the actual production of a theme wherein there is need to bring out these differences in meaning by the use of words; but some help may be gained from a formal study of synonyms and antonyms and of the distinction in use and meaning between words which are commonly confused with each other. For this purpose such exercises are given in the Appendix. +22. Choice of Words.+--Even though our words may express the proper meaning, the effect may not be a desirable one unless we use words suited to the occasion described and to the person writing. Pupils of high school age know the meaning of many words which are too "bookish" for daily use by them. Edward Everett Hale might use expressions which would not be suitable for a freshman's composition. Taste and good judgment will help you to avoid the unsuitable or grandiloquent. The proper selection of words not only implies that we shall avoid the wrong word, but also that we shall choose the right one. A suitable adjective may give a clearer image than is expressed by a whole sentence; a single verb may tell better how some one acted than can be told by a lengthy explanation. Since narration has to do with action, we need in story telling to be especially careful in our choice of verbs. What can you say of the suitability of the words in the following selection, taken from an old school reader? _Mrs. Lismore._ You are quite breathless, Charles; where have you been running so violently? _Charles._ From the poultry yard, mamma, where I have been diverting myself with the bravado of the old gander. I did not observe him till he came toward me very fiercely, when, to induce him to pursue me, I ran from him. He followed, till, supposing he had beaten me, he returned to the geese, who appeared to receive him with acclamations of joy, cackling very loud, and seeming actually to laugh, and to enjoy the triumph of their gallant chief. _Emma._ I wish I had been with you, Charles; I have often admired the gambols of these beautiful birds, and wondered how they came by the appellation of _silly_, which is generally bestowed on them. I remember Martha, our nursery maid, used often to call me a _silly goose_. How came they to deserve that term, mamma? they appear to me to have as much intelligence as any of the feathered tribe. _Mrs. Lismore._ I have often thought with you, Emma, and supposed that term, like many others, misapplied, for want of examining into the justice of so degrading an epithet. +23. Improbability.+--Up to this point we have been concerned with relating events that _could_ exist, though we knew that they _did_ not. We may, however, imagine a series of events that are manifestly impossible. There is a pleasure in inventing improbable stories, and if we know from the beginning that they are to be so, we enjoy listening to them. Such tales are more satisfactory to young persons than to older ones, as is shown by our declining interest in fairy stories as we grow older. By limiting the improbability to a part of the story, it is possible to give an air of reality to the whole. Though the conditions described in a story about a trip to the moon might be wholly impossible, yet the reader for the time being might feel that the events were actually happening if the characters in the story were acting as real men would act under similar circumstances. In stories such as those of Thompson-Seton, where the animals are personified, the impossibilities are forgotten, because the actions and situations are so real. In fairy stories and similar tales neither characters nor actions are in any way limited by probability. +Theme X.+--_Write a short story suggested by one of the subjects below. Make either the characters or their surroundings seem real._ 1. A week in Mars. 2. Exploring the lake bottom. 3. The cat's defense of her kittens. (_a_) As told by the cat. (_b_) As told by the dog. 4. How the fox fooled the hound. 5. Diary of a donkey. 6. A biography of Jack Frost. (Correct with reference to meaning and clearness and two other points to be assigned by the teacher.) +24. How to Increase One's Vocabulary.+--In your daily work do what you can to add words to your reading vocabulary, and especially to increase your writing vocabulary. In the conversation of others and in reading you will meet with many new words, and you should attempt to make them your own. To do this, four things must be attended to:-- 1. _Spelling._ Definite attention should be given to each new word until its form both as written and as printed is indelibly stamped upon the mind. In your general reading and in each of the subjects that you will study in the high school you will meet unfamiliar words. It is only by mastering the spelling of each new word _when you first meet it_ that you can insure yourself against future chagrin from bad spelling. A part of the time in each high school subject may well be devoted to the mastering of the words peculiar to that subject. 2. _Pronunciation._ The complete acquisition of a word includes its pronunciation. In reading aloud and in speaking, we have need to know it, and faulty pronunciation is considered an indication of lack of culture. 3. _Meaning._ This includes more than the ability to give the definition as found in the dictionary. It is possible to recite such definitions glibly without in reality knowing the meaning of the word defined. It is necessary to connect the word definitely and permanently in our mind with the idea for which it is the symbol and to be able to distinguish the idea clearly from others closely related to it. 4. _Use._ The actual use of a word is very important. If a word is to come into our speaking and writing vocabulary, we must use it. It is important that the spelling, pronunciation, and meaning be determined when you _first_ meet the word, and it is equally important that the word be _used_ soon and often. +Theme XI.+--_Write a short story suggested by one of the following subjects. It may be wholly improbable, if you choose._ 1. The good fairy. 2. Mary's luck. 3. The man in the moon. 4. The golden apple. 5. A wonderful fountain pen. 6. The goobergoo and the kantan. (Correct with reference to meaning and clearness and two other points to be assigned by the teacher.) SUMMARY 1. The clear expression of the ideas connected with our daily experiences is of greater importance to most of us than is the production of literature. 2. Ideas furnished by imagination may be advantageously used for composition purposes, because-- _a._ They are your own. _b._ They offer free choice of language. They are less desirable than those gained from experience, because-- _a._ They generally lack clearness and permanency. _b._ They are less likely to be worth recording. _c._ It is more difficult to give them that unity and directness of statement that will keep the interest of the reader. 3. An imaginative series of events may seem probable or improbable. He who most closely observes real life and states his imaginary events so that they seem real will succeed best in imaginative writing. 4. Euphony is a desirable quality in a composition. 5. Variety aids euphony. It is gained by-- _a._ Avoiding the repetition of the same words and phrases. _b._ Beginning our sentences in various ways. _c._ Using sentences of different lengths. 6. Conversation is usually composed of short sentences. 7. Pictures may suggest ideas suitable for use in compositions. 8. Our reading, writing, and speaking vocabularies differ. Each should be increased. With each new word attention should be given to-- _a._ Spelling. _b._ Pronunciation. _c._ Meaning. _d._ Use. III. EXPRESSION OF IDEAS ACQUIRED THROUGH LANGUAGE +25. Language as a Medium through Which Ideas are Acquired.+--We have been considering language as a means of expression, an instrument by which we can convey to others the ideas which come to us from experience and imagination. We shall now consider it from a different point of view. Language is not merely a means of expressing ideas, but it is also a medium through which ideas are acquired. It has a double use: the writer must put thought into language; the reader must get it out. A large part of your schooling has been devoted to acquiring ideas from language, and these ideas may be used for purposes of composition. _Since it is absolutely necessary to have ideas before you can express them_, it will be worth while to consider for a time how to get them from language. +26. Image Making.+--Read the following selection from Hawthorne and form a clear mental image of each scene:-- At first, my fancy saw only the stern hills, lonely lakes, and venerable woods. Not a tree, since their seeds were first scattered over the infant soil, had felt the ax, but had grown up and flourished through its long generation, had fallen beneath the weight of years, been buried in green moss, and nourished the roots of others as gigantic. Hark! A light paddle dips into the lake, a birch canoe glides around the point, and an Indian chief has passed, painted and feather-crested, armed with a bow of hickory, a stone tomahawk, and flint-headed arrows. But the ripple had hardly vanished from the water, when a white flag caught the breeze, over a castle in the wilderness, with frowning ramparts and a hundred cannon.... A war party of French and Indians were issuing from the gate to lay waste some village of New England. Near the fortress there was a group of dancers. The merry soldiers footing it with the swart savage maids; deeper in the wood, some red men were growing frantic around a keg of the fire-water; and elsewhere a Jesuit preached the faith of high cathedrals beneath a canopy of forest boughs. Did you form clear mental images? Can you picture them all at the same time, or must you turn your attention from one image to another? The formation of the proper mental images will be aided by making a persistent effort to create them. Many words do not cause us to form images; for example, _goodness, innocence, position, insurance_; but when the purpose of a word is to set forth an image, we should take care to get the correct one. In this the dictionary will not always help us. We must distinguish between the ability to repeat a definition and the power to form an accurate image of the thing defined. The difficulty of forming correct images by the use of dictionary definitions is so great that the definitions are frequently accompanied by pictures. EXERCISES Notice the different mental images that come to you as you read each of the following selections. Distinguish words that cause images to arise from those that do not. 1. Before these fields were shorn and tilled, Full to the brim our rivers flowed; The melody of waters filled The fresh and boundless wood; And torrents dashed, and rivulets played, And fountains spouted in the shade. --Bryant: _An Indian at the Burial Place of his Fathers_. 2. At that moment the woods were filled with another burst of cries, and at the signal four savages sprang from the cover of the driftwood. Heyward felt a burning desire to rush forward to meet them, so intense was the delirious anxiety of the moment; but he was restrained by the deliberate examples of the scout and Uncas. When their foes, who leaped over the black rocks that divided them, with long bounds, uttering the wildest yells, were within a few rods, the rifle of Hawkeye slowly rose among the shrubs and poured out its fatal contents. The foremost Indian bounded like a stricken deer and fell headlong among the clefts of the island. --Cooper: _Last of the Mohicans_. 3. The towering flames had now surmounted every obstruction, and rose to the evening skies, one huge and burning beacon, seen far and wide through the adjacent country. Tower after tower crashed down, with blazing roof and rafter; and the combatants were driven from the courtyard. The vanquished of whom very few remained, scattered and escaped into the neighboring wood. The victors, assembling in large bands, gazed with wonder, not unmixed with fear, upon the flames, in which their own ranks and arms glanced dusky red. The maniac figure of the Saxon Ulrica was for a long time visible on the lofty stand she had chosen, tossing her arms abroad with wild exaltation as if she reigned empress of the conflagration which she had raised. At length, with a terrific crash, the whole turret gave way and she perished in the flames which had consumed her tyrant. --Scott: _Ivanhoe_. 4. Under a spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. --Longfellow: _The Village Blacksmith_. 5. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-- While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door; "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-- Only this, and nothing more." --Edgar A. Poe: _The Raven_. 6. Where with black cliffs the torrents toil, He watch'd the wheeling eddies boil, Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes Beheld the River Demon rise; The mountain mist took form and limb Of noontide hag or goblin grim. --Scott: _Lady of the Lake_. 7. On nearer approach he was still more surprised at the singularity of the stranger's appearance. He was a short, square-built old fellow, with thick, bushy hair and a grizzled beard. His dress was of the antique Dutch fashion--a cloth jerkin strapped around the waist--several pairs of breeches, the outer ones of ample volume, decorated with rows of buttons down the sides and bunches at the knees. He bore on his shoulder a stout keg that seemed full of liquor, and made signs for Rip to approach and assist him with his load. --Washington Irving: _Rip Van Winkle_. +27. Complete and Incomplete Images.+--Some sentences have for their purpose the presentation of an image, but in order to form that image correctly and completely, we must be familiar with the words used. If an unfamiliar word is introduced, the mind may omit entirely the image represented, or may substitute some other for it. Notice the image presented by this sentence from Henry James: "Her dress was dark and rich; she had pearls around her neck and an old rococo fan in her hand." If the meaning of _rococo_ is unknown to you, the image which you form will not be exactly the one that Mr. James had in mind. The pearls and the dress may stand out clearly in your image, but the fan will be lacking or indistinct. The whole may be compared to a photograph of which a part is blurred. If your attention is directed to the fan, you may recall the word _rococo_, but not the image represented by it. If your attention is not called to the fan, the mind is satisfied with the indistinct image, or substitutes for it an image of some other fan. Such an image is therefore either incomplete or inaccurate. An oath in court provides that we shall "tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," but, in forming images, it is not always possible to hold our minds to such exactness. We are prone to picture more or less than the words convey. In fact, in some forms of prose, and often in poetry, the author purposely takes advantage of this habit of the mind and wishes us to enlarge with creations of our own imagination the bare image that his words convey. Such writing, however, aims to give pleasure or to arouse our emotions. It calls out something in the reader even more strongly than it sets forth something in the writer. This suggestiveness in writing will be considered later, but for the present it will be well for you to bear in mind that most language has for its purpose the exact expression of a definite idea. Much of the failure in school work arises from the careless substitution of one image for another, and from the formation of incomplete and inaccurate images. EXERCISES _A._ Make a list of the words in the following selections whose meanings you need to look up in order to make the images exact and complete. Do not attempt to memorize the language of the definition, but to form a correct image. 1. The sun stared brazenly down on a gray farmhouse, on ranges of whitewashed outbuildings, and on a goodly array of dark-thatched ricks. 2. In his shabby frieze jacket and mud-laden brogans, he was scarcely an attractive object. 3. In a sunlit corner of an old coquina fort they came suddenly face to face with a familiar figure. 4. Somewhat back from the village street Stands the old-fashioned country seat. Across its antique portico Tall poplar trees their shadows throw, And from its station in the hall An ancient timepiece says to all: "Forever--never! Never--forever!" --Longfellow: _The Old Clock on the Stairs_. 5. There was a room which bore the appearance of a vault. Four spandrels from the corners ran up to join a sharp cup-shaped roof. The architecture was rough, but very strong. It was evidently part of a great building. 6. The officer proceeded, without affecting to hear the words which escaped the sentinel in his surprise; nor did he again pause, until he had reached the low strand, and in a somewhat dangerous vicinity to the western water bastion of the fort. 7. She stood on the top step under the _porte-cochere_, on the extreme edge, so that the toes of her small slippers extended a little over it. She bent forward, and then tipped back on the high, exiguous heels again. 8. Before the caryatides of the fireplace, under the ancestral portraits, a valet moves noiselessly about, arranging the glistening silver service on the long table and putting in order the fruits, sweets, and ices. 9. No sooner is the heavy gate of the portal passed than one sees from afar among the leafage the court of honor, to which one comes along an alley decorated uniformly with upright square shafts like classic termae in stone and bronze. The impression of the antique lines is striking: it springs at once to the eyes, at first in this portico with columns and a heavy entablature, but lacking a pediment. _B._ Read again the selections beginning on page 46. Do you form complete images in every case? _C._ Notice in each of your lessons for to-day what images are incomplete. Bring to class a list of the words you would need to look up in order to form complete images. Do not include all the words whose meanings are not clear, but only those that assist in forming images. +Theme XII.+--_Form a clear mental image of some incident, person, or place. Write about it, using such words as will give your classmates complete and accurate images. The following may suggest a subject:_-- 1. A party dress I should like. 2. My room. 3. A cozy glen. 4. In the apple orchard. 5. Going to the fire. 6. The hand-organ man. 7. A hornets' nest. 8. The last inning. 9. An exciting race. (Consider what you have written with reference to the images which the _reader_ will form. Do you think that when the members of the class hear your theme, each will form the same images that you had in mind when writing? Notice how many of your sentences begin in the same way. Can you rewrite them so as to give variety?) +28. Reproduction of Images.+--If we were asked to tell about an accident which we had seen, we could recall the various incidents in the order of their occurrence. If the accident had occurred recently, or had made a vivid impression upon us, we could easily form mental images of each scene. If we had only read a description of the accident, it would be more difficult to recall the image; because that which we gain through language is less vitally a part of ourselves than is that which comes to us through experience. When called upon to reproduce the images suggested to us by language, our memory is apt to concern itself with the words that suggested the image, and our expression is hampered rather than aided by this remembrance. The author has made, or should have made, the best possible selection of words and phrases. If we repeat his language, we have but memory drill or copy work; and if we do not, we are limited to such second-class language as we may be able to find. Word memory has its uses, but it is less valuable than image memory. It is necessary to distinguish carefully between the images that a writer presents and the words that he uses. If a botany lesson should consist of a description of fifteen different leaves, a pupil deficient in image memory will attempt to memorize the language of the book. A better-trained pupil, on meeting such a term as _serrated_, will ask himself: "Have I ever seen such a leaf? Can I form an image of it?" If so, his only task will be to give the new name, _serrated_, to the idea that he already has. In a similar way he will form images for each of the fifteen leaves described in the lesson. The language of the book may help him form these images, but he will make no attempt to commit the language to memory. With him, "getting the lesson" means forming images and naming them, and reciting the lesson will be but talking about an image that he has clearly in mind. Try this in your own lessons. If we are called upon to reproduce the incidents and scenes of some story that has been read to us, our success will depend upon the clearness of the images that we have formed. Our efforts should be directed to making the images as definite and vivid as possible, and our memory will be concerned with the recalling of these images in their proper order, and not with the language that first caused them to appear. EXERCISES 1. Report orally some interesting incident taken from a book which you have recently read. Do not reread the story. Use such language as will cause the class to form clear mental images. 2. Report orally upon some chapter selected from Cooper's _Last of the Mohicans_ or Scott's _Ivanhoe_. 3. Read a portion of Scott's _Lady of the Lake_, and report orally what happened. 4. Report orally some incident that you have read about in a magazine. Select one that caused you to form images, and tell it so that the hearers will form like images. +Theme XIII.+--_Reproduce a story read to you by the teacher._ (Before writing, picture to yourself the scenes and recall the order of their occurrence. If it is necessary to condense, omit events of the least importance.) +29. Comparison.+--Writing which contains unfamiliar words fails to call up complete and definite images. It is often difficult to form the correct mental picture, even though the words in themselves are familiar. Definitions, explanations, and descriptions may cause us to understand correctly, but our understanding usually can be improved by means of a comparison. We can form an image of an object as soon as we know what it is like. If I wished you to form an image of an okapi, a lengthy description would give you a less vivid picture than the statement that it was a horselike animal, having stripes similar to those of a zebra. If an okapi were as well known to you as is a horse, the name alone would call up the proper image, and no comparison would be necessary. By means of it we are enabled to picture the unfamiliar. In this case the comparison is literal. If the comparison is imaginative rather than literal, our language becomes figurative, and usually takes the form of a simile or metaphor. Similes and metaphors are of great value in rendering thought clear. They make language forceful and effective, and they may add much to the beauty of expression. We may speak of an object as being like another, or as acting like another. If the comparison is imaginative rather than literal, and is directly stated, the expression is a simile. Similes are introduced by _like, as_, etc. He fought like a lion. The river wound like a serpent around the mountains. If two things are essentially different, but yet have a common quality, their _implied comparison_ is a metaphor. A metaphor takes the form of a statement that one is the other. "He was a lion in the fight." "The river wound its serpent course." Sometimes inanimate objects, abstract ideas, or the lower animals are given the attributes of human beings. Such a figure is called personification, and is in fact a modified metaphor, since it is based upon some resemblance of the lower to the higher. This music crept by me upon the waters. Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he is worth to season. Nay, he's a thief, too; have you not heard men say, That time comes stealing on by night and day? --Shakespeare. +30. Use of Figures of Speech.+--The three figures of speech, simile, metaphor, and personification, are more frequently used than are the others. Figures of speech are treated in a later chapter, but some suggestions as to their use will be of value to beginners. 1. Never write for the purpose of using figures of speech. Nearly everything that we need to say can be well expressed in plain, bare English, and the ability to express our thoughts in this way is the essential thing. If a figure that adds to the force and clearness of your expression occurs to you, use it without hesitation. A figure may also add to the beauty of our expression. The examples to be found in literature are largely of this character. If well used, they are effective, but the beginner should beware of a figure that is introduced for decorative purposes only. An attempt to find figures of speech in ordinary prose writing will show how rarely they are used. 2. The figures should fit the subject in hand. Some comparisons are appropriate and some are not. If the writer is familiar with his subject and deeply in earnest, the appropriate figures will rise spontaneously in his mind. If they do not, little is gained by seeking for them. 3. The effectiveness of a comparison, whether literal or figurative, depends upon the familiarity of the reader with one of the two things compared. To say that a petrel resembled a kite would be of no value to one who knew nothing of either bird. Similarly a figure is defective if neither element of the comparison is familiar to the readers. 4. Suitable figures give picturesqueness and vivacity to language, but hackneyed figures are worse than none. 5. Elaborate and long-drawn-out figures, or an overabundance of short ones, should be avoided. 6. A figure must be consistent throughout. A comparison once begun must be carried through without change; mixing figures often produces results which are ridiculous. The "mixed metaphor" is a common blunder of beginners. This fault may arise either from confusing different metaphors in the same sentence, or from blending literal language with metaphorical. The following will serve to illustrate:-- 1. [Confused metaphor.] Let us pin our faith to the rock of perseverance and honest toil, where it may sail on to success on the wings of hope. 2. [Literal and figurative blended.] Washington was the father of his country and a surveyor of ability. 3. When the last awful moment came, the star of liberty went down with all on board. 4. The glorious work will never be accomplished until the good ship "Temperance" shall sail from one end of the land to the other, and with a cry of "Victory!" at each step she takes, shall plant her banner in every city, town, and village in the United States. 5. All along the untrodden paths of the future we see the hidden footprints of an unseen hand. 6. The British lion, whether it is roaming the deserts of India, or climbing the forests of Canada, will never draw in its horns nor retire into its shell. 7. Young man, if you have the spark of genius in you, water it. EXERCISES Are the images which you form made more vivid by the use of the figures in the following selections? 1. She began to screech as wild as ocean birds. 2. And when its force expended, The harmless storm was ended; And as the sunrise splendid Came blushing o'er the sea-- 3. As a demon is hurled by an angel's spear, Heels over head, to his proper sphere-- Heels over head and head over heels,-- Dizzily down the abyss he wheels,-- So fell Darius. --J.T. Trowbridge. 4. In this republican country, amid the fluctuating waves of our social life, somebody is always at the drowning point. --Hawthorne. 5. Poverty, treading close at her heels for a lifetime, has come up with her at last. --Hawthorne. 6. Friendships begin with liking or gratitude--roots that can be pulled up. --George Eliot. 7. Nearing the end of the narrative, Ben paced up and down the narrow limits of the tent in great excitement, running his fingers through his hair, and barking out a question now and then. 8. A sky above, Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move. --Lowell. 9. In days of public commotion every faction, like an Oriental army, is attended by a crowd of camp followers, a useless and heartless rabble, who prowl round its line of march in the hope of picking up something under its protection, but desert it in the day of battle, and often join to exterminate it after a defeat. --Macaulay. 10. It is to be regretted that the prose writings of Milton should, in our time, be so little read. As compositions, they deserve the attention of every man who wishes to become acquainted with the full power of the English language. They abound with passages compared with which the finest declamations of Burke sink into insignificance. They are a perfect field of cloth of gold. The style is stiff with gorgeous embroidery. --Macaulay. 11. And close behind her stood Eight daughters of the plow, stronger than men, Huge women blowzed with health, and wind, and rain, And labor. Each was like a Druid rock, Or like a spire of land that stands apart Cleft from the main and wall'd about with mews. --Tennyson. 12. But bland the smile that, like a wrinkling wind On glassy water, drove his cheek in lines. --Tennyson. 13. The rush of affairs drifts words from their original meanings, as ships drag their anchors in a gale, but terms sheltered from common use hold to their moorings forever. --Mill. +Theme XIV.+--_Write a story suggested by the picture on page 59 or by one of the following subjects:_-- 1. A modern fable. 2. The willow whistle. 3. How I baked a cake. 4. The delayed picnic. 5. The missing slipper. 6. A misdirected letter. 7. A ride on a raft. 8. The rescue of Ezekiel. 9. A railway experience. 10. A soldier's soldier. (Do you think the reader will form the images you wish him to form? Consider what you have written with reference to climax. (See Section 7.) Have you needed to use figures? If so, have you used them in accordance with the suggestions on page 55? If you have used the word _only_, is it placed so as to give the correct meaning?) +31. Determination of Meaning Requires More than Image Making.+--The emphasis laid upon image making should not lead to the belief that this is all that is necessary in order to determine what is meant by the language we hear or read. Image making is important, but much of our language is concerned with presenting ideas of which no mental pictures can be formed. [Illustration] This very paragraph will serve as an illustration of such language. Our understanding of language of this kind depends upon our knowledge of the meanings of words, upon our understanding of the relations between word groups, or parts of sentences, and especially upon our appreciation of the relations in thought that sentences bear to one another. Each of these will be discussed in the following pages. Later it will be necessary to consider the relations in thought existing among paragraphs. +32. Word Relations.+--In order to get the thought of a sentence, we must understand the relations that exist between the words and word groups (phrases and clauses) that compose it. If the thought is simple, and expressed in straightforward terms, we grasp it readily and without any conscious effort to determine these relations. If the thought is complex, the relations become more complicated, and before we are sure that we know what the writer intends to say it may be necessary to note with care which is the main clause and which are the subordinate clauses. In either case our acquiring the thought depends upon our understanding the relations between words and word groups. We may understand them without any knowledge of the names that have been applied to them in grammar, but a knowledge of the names will assist somewhat. These relations are treated in the grammar review in the Appendix and need not be repeated here. +33. Incomplete Thoughts.+--We have learned (Section 27) that the introduction of unfamiliar words may cause us to form incomplete images. When the language is not designed to present images, we may, in a similar way, fail to get its real meaning if we are unfamiliar with the words used. If you do not know the meaning of _fluent_ and _viscous_, you will fail to understand correctly the statement, "Fluids range from the peculiarly fluent to the peculiarly viscous." If we wish to think precisely what the writer intended us to think, we must know the meanings of the words he uses. Many of us are inclined to substitute other ideas than those properly conveyed by the words of the writer, and so get confused or incomplete or inaccurate ideas. The ability to determine exactly what images the writer suggests, and what ideas his language expresses, is the first requisite of scholarship and an important element of success in life. EXERCISES _A._ The first step in acquiring knowledge is to determine what it is that we do not know. Just which word or words in each of the following sentences keep you from understanding the full meaning of the sentence? Notice that a dictionary definition will not always make the meaning clear. 1. It is really more scientific to repeat a quotation from a political speech correctly, or to pass on a story undistorted, than it is to know of the rings of Saturn or the striation of diatoms. 2. The process of testing a hypothesis requires great caution in order to prevent mistakes. 3. The aerial foliage stem is the most favorable for studying stem structure. 4. Taken collectively, isotherms indicate the distribution of mean temperature over the region embraced in the map. 5. Vibrations of the membrane of the tympanum are "damped" by the ossicles of the middle ear, which also receive and pass on the auditory tremors to the membrane closing the oval window. 6. In the battle which followed, the mobile Roman legion, arranged in open order three ranks deep, proved its superiority over the massive Macedonian phalanx. 7. The narrow and dissected forms have been attributed to the scarcity of carbon dioxide and oxygen in the water. _B._ Make a list of words in your lessons in other subjects for to-day that you need to look up in order to understand the lessons. This should be done daily, whether assigned or not. 34. +Choice of Words Adapted to the Reader.+--Words familiar to the reader should be used. Since the reader's ability to understand the thought of a paragraph depends to some extent upon his understanding of the words employed, it is necessary for the writer to choose words that will be understood by those whom he addresses. Of course we cannot tell whether a particular word will be understood by our readers, but, in case there is doubt, it is well to substitute one that is more likely to be understood. When you have written anything, it is well to ask yourself the question, Have I used words with which _the reader_ is probably familiar? +Theme XV.+---_Write a theme about one of the following subjects, using words that you think will be understood by your readers:_-- 1. How we breathe. 2. How to make a kite. 3. The causes of the seasons. 4. Why wood floats on water. 5. The use of baking powder. 6. The difference between arithmetic and algebra. (Have you said what you meant to say? Have you used words that your reader will understand? Find your longest sentence. Is its meaning clear? Notice the short sentences. Should some of them be united into a longer one?) +35. Word Selection.+--There are many shades of meaning which differ but little, and a careful writer will select just the word that best conveys his thought. The reader needs to be no less careful in determining the exact meaning that the writer intends to convey. Exercises in synonyms are thus of double importance (Section 21). Another source of error, both in acquiring and expressing thought, arises from the confusion of similar words. Some similarity of spelling causes one word to be substituted for another. There are many words and expressions that are so often interchanged that some time may be spent with profit upon exercises in determining their correct usage. These usually consist of brief reports to the class that set forth the meanings of the words, show their uses, and illustrate their differences. In preparing such reports, determine the meaning of the words from as many sources as are available. The usual meaning can be determined from the dictionary. A fuller treatment is given in some dictionaries in a chapter on faulty diction. Additional material may be found in many of the text-books on rhetoric, and in special books treating of word usage. After you are sure that you know the correct use, prepare a report for the class that shall make that use clear to others. In the simplest form this will consist of definitions and sentences in which the words are correctly used. The following examples, handed in by pupils, will serve to illustrate such reports:-- 1. A _council_ is an assembly of persons convened for consultation or deliberation. _Counsel_ is used to indicate either (1) an opinion as the result of consultation or (2) a lawyer engaged to give advice or to act as advocate in court. Lewis furnishes the following example of the use of these two words: "The plaintiff's _counsel_ held a _council_ with his partners in law, and finally gave him as his best _counsel_ the advice that he should drop the suit; but, as Swift says, 'No man will take _counsel_, but every man will take money,' and the plaintiff refused to accept the advice unless the _counsel_ could persuade the defendant to settle the case out of court by paying a large sum." 2. The correct meaning of _transpire_ may perhaps be best understood by considering its derivations. It comes from _trans_, through, and _spiro_, to breathe, from which it gets its meaning, to escape gradually from secrecy. It is frequently used incorrectly in the sense of to happen, but both Webster and the Standard dictionary condemn this use of the word. The latter says that it is often so misused especially in carelessly edited newspapers, as in "Comments on the heart-rending disaster which transpired yesterday are unnecessary, but," etc. When _transpire_ is correctly used, it is not a synonym of _happen_. A thing that happened a year ago may transpire to-day, that is, it may "become known through unnoticed channels, exhale, as it were, through invisible pores like a vapor or a gas disengaging itself." Many things which happen in school, thus become known by being passed along in a semi-secret manner until nearly all know of them though few can tell just how the information was spread. _Transpire_ may properly be applied to such a diffusion of knowledge. +Theme XVI.+--_Report as suggested above on any one of the following groups of words:_-- 1. Allude, mention. 2. Beside, besides. 3. Character, reputation. 4. Degrade, demean, debase. 5. Last, latest, preceding. 6. Couple, pair. 7. Balance, rest, remainder. (Have you made clear the correct use of the words under discussion? Can you give examples which do not follow the dictionaries so closely as do the illustrative reports above?) NOTE.--Lists of words suitable for exercises similar to the above are given in the Appendix. The teacher will assign them to such an extent and at such times as seems desirable. One such lesson a week will be found profitable. +36. Sentence Relations.+--What we read or hear usually consists of several sentences written or spoken together. The meaning of any particular sentence may depend upon the sentence or sentences preceding. In order to determine accurately the meaning of the whole, we must understand the relation in thought that each sentence bears to the others. Notice the two sentences: "Guns are dangerous. Boys should not use them." Though the last sentence is independent, it gets its meaning from the first. In the following selection consider each sentence apart from the others. Notice that the meaning of the whole becomes intelligible only when the sentences are considered in their relations to each other. Once upon a time, a notion was started, that if all the people in the world would shout at once, it might be heard in the moon. So the projectors agreed it should be done in just ten years. Some thousand shiploads of chronometers were distributed to the selectmen and other great folks of all the different nations. For a year beforehand, nothing else was talked about but the awful noise that was to be made on the great occasion. When the time came, everybody had his ears so wide open, to hear the universal ejaculation of Boo,--the word agreed upon,--that nobody spoke except a deaf man in one of the Fiji Islands, and a woman in Pekin, so that the world was never so still since the creation.--Holmes. Gutenberg did a great deal of his work in secret, for he thought it was much better that his neighbors should know nothing of what he was doing. So he looked for a workshop where no one would be likely to find him. He was now living in Strasburg, and there was in that city a ruined old building where, long before his time, a number of monks had lived. There was one room in the building which needed only a little repairing to make it fit to be used. So he got the right to repair the room and use it as his workshop. In all good writing we find a similar dependence in thought. Each sentence takes a meaning because of its relation to some other. The personal pronouns and pronominal adjectives, adverbial phrases indicating time or place, conjunctions, and such expressions as _certainly, however, on the other hand_, etc., are used to indicate more or less directly a relation in thought between the phrase or sentence in which they occur and some preceding one. If the reader cannot readily determine to what they refer, the meaning becomes obscure or ambiguous. The pronominal adjectives and the personal pronouns are especially likely to be used in such a way as to cause ambiguity. Care must be taken to use them so as to keep the meaning clear, and your own good sense will help you in this more than rules. Notice in your reading how frequently expressions similar to those mentioned above are used. +Theme XVII.+--_Write a theme suggested by one of the following subjects:_-- 1. The last quarter. 2. An excursion with the physical geography class. 3. What I saw while riding to town. 4. The broken bicycle. 5. An hour in the study hall. 6. Seen from my study window. (Are your sentences so arranged that the relation in thought is clear? Are the personal pronouns and pronominal adjectives used so as to avoid ambiguity? Does your story relate real events or imaginary ones? If imaginary events are related, have you made them seem probable?) +37. Getting the Main Thought.+--In many cases the relation in thought is not directly indicated, and we are left to determine it from the context, just as we decide upon the meaning of a word because of what precedes or follows it. In this case the meaning of a particular sentence may be made clear if we have in mind the main topic under discussion. Many pupils fail in recitations because they do not distinguish that which is more important from that which is less so. If a dozen pages of history are assigned, they cannot master the lesson because it is too long to be memorized, and they are not able to select the three or four things of importance with which it is really concerned. Thirty or forty minor details are jumbled together without any clear knowledge of the relations that they bear either to one another or to the main thoughts of the lesson. In the following selection but three things are discussed. Determine what they are, but not what is said about them. In all the ages the extent and value of flood plains have been increased by artificial means. Dikes or levees are built to regulate the spread and flow of the water and to protect the land from destructive floods. Dams and reservoirs are constructed for the storage of water, which is led by a system of canals and ditches to irrigate large tracts of land which would be otherwise worthless. By means of irrigation, the farmer has control of his water supply and is able to get larger returns than are possible where he depends upon the irregular and uncertain rainfall. It is estimated that in the arid regions of western United States there are 150,000 square miles of land which may be made available for agriculture by irrigation. Perhaps in the future the valley of the lower Colorado may become as productive as that of the Nile. Streams are the easiest routes of travel and commerce. A river usually furnishes from its mouth well up toward its source a smooth, graded highway, upon which a cargo may be transported with much less effort than overland. If obstructions occur in the form of rapids or falls, boat and cargo are carried around them. It is often easy to pass by a short portage or "carry" from one stream system across the divide to another. In regions which are not very level the easiest grades in every direction are found along the streams, and the main routes of land travel follow the stream valleys. In traversing a mountainous region, a railroad follows the windings of some river up to the crest of the divide, which it crosses through a pass, or often by a tunnel, and descends the valley of some stream on the other side. Man is largely indebted to streams for the variety and beauty of scenery. Running water itself is attractive to young and old. A landscape without water lacks its chief charm. A child instinctively finds its way to the brook, and the man seeks beside the river the pleasure and recreation which no other place affords. Streams have carved the surface of the land into an endless variety of beautiful forms, and a land where stream valleys are few or shallow is monotonous and tiresome. The most common as well as the most celebrated beauty of scenery in the world, from the tiny meanders of a meadow brook to the unequaled grandeur of the Colorado canyons, is largely due to the presence and action of streams. --Dryer: _Lessons in Physical Geography_. In the above selection we find that each group of sentences is related to some main topic. A more extended observation of good writing will give the same result. Men naturally think in sentence groups. A group of sentences related to each other and to the central idea is called a +paragraph.+ +38. Topic Statement.+--In the three paragraphs of the selection on page 67, notice that the first sentence in each tells what the paragraph is about. In a well-written paragraph it is possible to select the phrase or sentence that states the main thought. If such a sentence does not occur in the paragraph itself, one can be framed that will express clearly and concisely the chief idea of the paragraph. This brief, comprehensive summary of the contents of a paragraph is called the topic statement. In order to master the thought of what we read we must be able to select or to make the successive topic statements, and in order to express our own thoughts clearly we must write our paragraphs so that our readers may easily grasp the topic statement of each. When expressed in the paragraph, the topic statement may be a part of a sentence, a whole sentence, or it may extend through two sentences. It is usual to place the topic statement first, but it may be preceded by one or more introductory sentences, or even withheld until the end of the paragraph. For emphasis it may be repeated, though usually in a slightly different form. EXERCISES Determine the topic statements of the following paragraphs. If one is not expressed, make one. 1. No less valuable is the mental stimulus of play. The child is trained by it to quick perception, rapid judgment, prompt decision. His imagination cunningly suggests a thousand things to be done, and then trains the will and every power of body and mind in the effort to do them. The sports of childhood are admirably adapted to quicken the senses and sharpen the wits. Nature has effective ways in her school of securing the exercise which is needed to develop every mental and every bodily power. She fills the activity brimful of enjoyment, and then gives her children freedom, assured that they will be their own best teachers. --Bradley 2. Our Common Law comes from England, and originated there in custom. It is often called the unwritten law, because unwritten in origin, though there are now many books describing it. Its principles originated as habits of the people, five hundred, eight hundred, years ago, perhaps some of them back in the time when the half-savage Saxons landed on the shores of England. When the time came that the government, through its courts, punished the breach of a custom, from that time the custom was a law. And so the English people acquired these laws, one after another, just as they were acquiring at the same time the habits of making roads, using forks at table, manufacturing, meeting in Parliament, using firearms, and all the other habits of civilization. When the colonists came to America, they brought the English Common Law with them, not in a book, but in their minds, a part of their life, like their religion. --Clark: _The Government_. 3. Accuracy is always to be striven for but it can never be attained. This fact is only fully realized by scientific workers. The banker can be accurate because he only counts or weighs masses of metal which he assumes to be exactly equal. The Master of the Mint knows that two coins are never exactly equal in weight, although he strives by improving machinery and processes to make the differences as small as possible. When the utmost care is taken, the finest balances which have been constructed can weigh 1 lb. of a metal with an uncertainty less than the hundredth part of a grain. In other words, the weight is not accurate, but the inaccuracy is very small. No person is so stupid as not to feel sure that the height of a man he sees is between 3 ft. and 9 ft.; some are able by the eye to estimate the height as between 5 ft. 6 in. and 5 ft. 8 in.; measurement may show it to be between 5 ft. 6 in. and 5 ft. 7 in., but to go closer than that requires many precautions. Training in observation and the use of delicate instruments thus narrow the limits of approximation. Similarly with regard to space and time, there are instruments with which one millionth of an inch, or of a second, can be measured, but even this approximation, although far closer than is ever practically necessary, is not accuracy. In the statement of measurements there is no meaning in more than six significant figures, and only the most careful observations can be trusted so far. The height of Mount Everest is given as 29,002 feet; but here the fifth figure is meaningless, the height of that mountain not being known so accurately that two feet more or less would be detected. Similarly, the radius of the earth is sometimes given as 3963.295833 miles, whereas no observation can get nearer the truth than 3963.30 miles. --Mill: _The Realm of Nature_. (Copyright, 1892, by Charles Scribner's Sons.) 4. The chief cause which made the fusion of the different elements of society so imperfect was the extreme difficulty which our ancestors found in passing from place to place. Of all the inventions, the alphabet and the printing press alone excepted, those inventions which abridge distance have done most for the civilization of our species. Every improvement of the means of locomotion benefits mankind morally and intellectually as well as materially, and not only facilitates the interchange of the various productions of nature and art, but tends to remove national and provincial prejudices, and to bind together all the branches of the great human family. In the seventeenth century the inhabitants of London were for almost every practical purpose farther from Reading than they are now from Edinburgh, and farther from Edinburgh than they are now from Vienna. --Macaulay: _History of England_. 5. He touched New England at every point. He was born a frontiersman. He was bred a farmer. He was a fisherman in the mountain brooks and off the shore. He never forgot his origin, and he never was ashamed of it. Amid all the care and honor of his great place here he was homesick for the company of his old neighbors and friends. Whether he stood in Washington, the unchallenged prince and chief in the Senate, or in foreign lands, the kingliest man of his time in the presence of kings, his heart was in New England. When the spring came, he heard far off the fife bird and the bobolink calling him to his New Hampshire mountains, or of the waves on the shore at Marshfield alluring him with a sweeter than siren's voice to his home by the summer sea. --George F. Hoar: _Daniel Webster_. 6. Nor must I forget the suddenly changing seasons of the northern clime. There is no long and lingering spring, unfolding leaf and blossom one by one; no long and lingering autumn, pompous with many-colored leaves and the glow of Indian summer. But winter and summer are wonderful, and pass into each other. The quail has hardly ceased piping in the corn when winter, from the folds of trailing clouds, sows broadcast over the land snow, icicles, and rattling hail. The days wane apace. Erelong the sun hardly rises above the horizon, or does not rise at all. The moon and the stars shine through the day; only at noon they are pale and wan, and in the southern sky a red, fiery glow, as of a sunset, burns along the horizon and then goes out. And pleasantly under the silver moon, and under the silent, solemn stars, ring the steel shoes of the skaters on the frozen sea, and voices, and the sound of bells. --Longfellow: _Rural Life in Sweden_. 7. Extreme _busyness_, whether at school or college, kirk or market, is a symptom of deficient vitality; and a faculty for idleness implies a catholic appetite and a strong sense of personal identity. There is a sort of dead-alive, hackneyed people about, who are scarcely conscious of living except in the exercise of some conventional occupation. Bring these fellows into the country, or set them aboard ship, and you will see how they pine for their desk or their study. They have no curiosity; they cannot give themselves over to random provocations; they do not take pleasure in the exercise of their faculties for its own sake; and unless Necessity lays about them with a stick, they will even stand still. It is no good speaking to such folk: they _cannot_ be idle, their nature is not generous enough; and they pass those hours in a sort of coma, which are not dedicated to furious moiling in the gold mill. When they do not require to go to the office, when they are not hungry and have no mind to drink, the whole breathing world is a blank to them. If they have to wait an hour or so for a train, they fall into a stupid trance, with their eyes open. To see them, you would suppose there was nothing to look at and no one to speak with; you would imagine they were paralyzed or alienated; and yet very possibly they are hard workers in their own way, and have good eyesight for a flaw in a deed or a turn of the market. They have been to school and college, but all the time they had their eye on the medal; they have gone about in the world and mixed with clever people, but all the time they were thinking of their own affairs. As if a man's soul were not too small to begin with, they have dwarfed and narrowed theirs by a life of all work and no play; until here they are at forty, with a listless attention, a mind vacant of all material amusement, and not one thought to rub against another while they wait for the train. Before he was breeched, he might have clambered on the boxes; when he was twenty, he would have stared at the girls; but now the pipe is smoked out, the snuffbox is empty, and my gentleman sits bolt upright on a bench, with lamentable eyes. This does not appeal to me as being Success in Life. --Robert Louis Stevenson. (Copyright, by Charles Scribner's Sons.) _B._ Examine the themes which you have written. Does each paragraph have a topic statement? Have you introduced sentences which do not bear upon this topic statement? Are the paragraphs real ones treating of a single topic, or are they merely groups of sentences written together without any close connection in thought? +Theme XVIII.+--_State two or three advantages of public high schools over private boarding schools. Use each as a topic statement and develop it into a short paragraph._ (Add to each topic statement such sentences as will prove to a pupil of your own age that the topic statement states a real advantage. Include in each paragraph only that which bears upon the topic statement. Consider the definition of a paragraph on page 68. Does this definition apply to your paragraphs?) +39. Reproduction of the Thought of a Paragraph.+--Our ability to reproduce the thought of what we read will depend largely upon our ability to select the topic statements. In preparing a lesson for recitation it is evident that we must first determine definitely the topic statement of each paragraph. These may bear upon one general subject or upon different subjects. The three paragraphs on page 67 are all concerned with one subject, the uses of rivers. A pupil preparing to recite them would have in mind, when he went to class, an outline about as follows:-- General subject: The uses of rivers. First topic statement: The fertility of flood plains is improved by irrigation. Second topic statement: Streams are the easiest routes of travel and commerce. Third topic statement: Man is indebted to streams for beauty of scenery. While such a clear statement is the first step toward a proper understanding of the lesson, it is not enough. In order to understand thoroughly a topic statement, we need explanation or illustration. The idea is not really our own until we have thought about it in its relations to other knowledge already in our possession. In order to know whether you understand the topic statements, the teacher will ask you to discuss them. This may be done by telling what the writer said about them, or by giving thoughts and illustrations of your own, but best of all, by doing both. It is necessary, then, to know in what way the writer develops each topic statement. Read the following paragraph:-- The most productive lands in the world are flood plains. At every period of high water, a stream brings down mantle rock from the higher grounds, and deposits it as a layer of fine sediment over its flood plain. A soil thus frequently enriched and renewed is literally inexhaustible. In a rough, hilly, or mountainous country the finest farms and the densest population are found on the "bottom lands" along the streams. The flood plain most famous in history is that of the river Nile in Egypt. For a distance of 1500 miles above its mouth this river flows through a rainless desert, and has no tributary. The heavy spring rains which fall upon the highlands about its sources produce in summer a rise of the water, which overflows the valley on either side. Thus the lower Nile valley became one of the earliest centers of civilization, and has supported a dense population for 7000 years. The conditions in Mesopotamia, along the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, are similar to those along the lower Nile, and in ancient times this region was the seat of a civilization perhaps older than that of Egypt. The flood plains of the Ganges in India, and the Hoang in China, are the most extensive in the world, and in modern times the most populous. The alluvial valley of the Mississippi is extremely productive of corn, cotton, and sugar cane. --Dryer: _Lessons in Physical Geography_. Notice that the first sentence gives the topic statement, flood plains are productive. The second and third sentences tell why this is so, and the rest of the paragraph is given up to illustrations. In preparing this paragraph for recitation the pupil should have in mind an outline about as follows:-- Topic statement: Flood plains are the most productive lands in the world. 1. Reasons. 2. Examples: (_a_) Bottom lands. (_b_) Nile. (_c_) Tigris and Euphrates. (_d_) Ganges. (_e_) Hoang. (_f_) Mississippi. In order to make such an outline, the relative importance of the ideas in the paragraph must be mastered. A recitation that omitted the topic statement or the reasons would be defective, while one that omitted one or more of the examples might be perfect, especially if the pupil could furnish other examples from his own knowledge. The illustration about bottom lands is a general one, and should suggest specific cases that could be included in the recitation. The details in regard to the Nile might be included if they happened to be recalled at the time of the recitation, but even the omission of all mention of the Nile might not materially detract from the value of the recitation. The effort to remember minor details hinders real thought-getting power. It is better not to write this outline. The use of notes or written outlines at the time of the recitation soon establishes a habit of dependence that renders real scholarship an impossibility. With such an analysis of the thought clearly in mind, the pupil need not attempt to remember the language of the writer. EXERCISES _A._ Complete the partial outline given for the paragraph below. Which of the illustrations might be omitted from a recitation? For which can you furnish different illustrations? Mountain ranges have great influence upon climate, political geography, and commerce. Many of them form climatic boundaries. The Cordilleras of western America and the Scandinavian mountains arrest the warm, moist, western winds which rise along those great rock barriers to cooler altitudes, where their water vapor is condensed and falls as rain, so that the country on the windward side of the mountains is wet and that on the leeward side is dry. Mountain chains stretching east and west across central Asia protect the southern part of the continent from frigid arctic winds. The large winter tourist traffic of the Riviera is due to the mountains that shield this favored French-Italian coast from the north and northeast continental winds, giving it a considerably warmer winter's temperature than that of Rome, two and a half degrees farther south. As North America has no mountain barriers across the pathway of polar winds, they sweep southward even to the Gulf of Mexico and have twice destroyed Florida's orange groves within a decade. Mountain ranges are conspicuous in political geography because they are the natural boundary between many nations and languages, as the Pyrenees between France and Spain, the Alps between Austria and Italy, and the Himalayas between Tibet and India. Mountains sometimes guard nations from attack by the isolation they give, and therefore promote national unity. Thus the Swiss are among the few peoples in Europe who have maintained the integrity of their state. Commercially, mountains are of great importance as a source of water, which they store in snow, glaciers, and lakes. Snow and ice, melting slowly on the mountains, are an unfailing source of supply for perennial rivers, and thus promote navigation. Mountains are the largest source of water-power, which is more valuable than ever now that electricity is employed to transmit it to convenient centers for use in the industries. A large part of the mining machinery in the United States is run by water power. Switzerland, which has no coal, turns the wheels of its mills with water. Mountains supply most of the metals and minerals, and are therefore the scene of the largest mining industry. They are also among the greatest sources of forest wealth. Though the slopes are not favorable for agriculture they afford good pasturage, and the debris of the rocks washed into the valleys and plains by mountain torrents supplies good soil. Thus the Appalachians have been worn down to a comparatively low level, and the soil formed from their rock particles is the basis of large husbandry. The scenic attractions of many mountain regions is a source of large revenue. The Alps attract crowds of tourists, who spend about twenty million dollars a year in Switzerland and Austria, and give to many thousands of persons. --Adams: _Commercial Geography_. OUTLINE (to be completed) Mountain ranges have great influence upon-- I. Climate. Why? Where? _a, b,_ etc. II. Political geography. Why? Where? _a, b,_ etc. III. Commerce. Why? Where? _a, b,_ etc. _B._ Make an outline of the following paragraph:-- 1. The armor of the different classes was also accurately ordered by the law. The first class was ordered to wear for the defense of the body, brazen helmets, shields, and coats of mail, and to bear spears and swords, excepting the mechanics, who were to carry the necessary military engines and to serve without arms. The members of the second class, excepting that they had bucklers instead of shields and wore no coats of mail, were permitted to bear the same armor and to carry the sword and spear. The third class had the same armor as the second, excepting that they could not wear greaves for the protection of their legs. The fourth had no arms excepting a spear and a long javelin. The fifth merely carried slings and stones for use in them. To this class belonged the trumpeters and horn blowers. --Gilman: _Story of Rome_. _C._ In preparing your other lessons for to-day, make outlines of the paragraphs. +Theme XIX.+--_Reproduce the thought of some paragraph read to you by the teacher._ (Do not attempt to remember the language. Try to get the main thought of what is read and then write a paragraph which sets forth that same idea. Use different illustrations if you can.) NOTE.--This theme may be repeated as many times as seems desirable. +40. Importance of the Paragraph.+--Emphasis needs to be laid upon the importance of the paragraph. Our ability to express our thoughts clearly depends, to a large extent, upon our skill in constructing paragraphs. The writing of correct sentences is not sufficient. Though each of a series of sentences may be correct, they may, as a whole, say but little, and that very poorly; while another set of sentences, which cluster around some central idea, may set it forth most effectively. It is only by giving our sentence groups that unity of thought which combines them into paragraphs that we make them most effective. A well-constructed paragraph will make clear some idea, and a series of such paragraphs, related to each other and properly arranged, will set forth the sum of our thoughts on any subject. +41. Paragraph Length.+--The proper length of a paragraph cannot be determined by rule. Sometimes the thought to be presented will require several sentences; sometimes two or three will be sufficient. A single illustration may make a topic statement clear, or several illustrations may be required. The writer must judge when he has included enough to make his meaning understood, and must avoid including so much that the reader will become weary. Usually a paragraph that exceeds three hundred words will be found too long, or else it will contain more than one main idea, each of which could have been presented more effectively in a separate paragraph. +42. Indentation.+--In written and printed matter the beginning of a paragraph is indicated by an indentation. Indentation does not make a paragraph, but we indent because we are beginning a new paragraph. Indentation thus serves the same purpose as punctuation. It helps the reader to determine when we have finished one main thought and are about to begin another. Beginners are apt to use indentations too frequently. There are some special uses of indentation in letter writing, printed conversation, and other forms, but for ordinary paragraph division the indentation is determined by the thought, and its correct use depends upon clear thinking. Can the following selection be improved by reparagraphing? Outside in the darkness, gray with whirling snowflakes, he saw the wet lamps of cabs shining, and he darted along the line of hansoms and coupes in frantic search for his own. "Oh, there you are," he panted, flinging his suit case up to a snow-covered driver. "Do your best now; we're late!" And he leaped into the dark coupe, slammed the door, and sank back on the cushions, turning up the collar of his heavy overcoat. There was a young lady in the farther corner of the cab, buried to her nose in a fur coat. At intervals she shivered and pressed a fluffy muff against her face. A glimmer from the sleet-smeared lamps fell across her knees. Down town flew the cab, swaying around icy corners, bumping over car tracks, lurching, rattling, jouncing, while its silent occupants, huddled in separate corners, brooded moodily at their respective windows. Snow blotted the glass, melting and running down; and over the watery panes yellow light from shop windows played fantastically, distorting vision. Presently the young man pulled out his watch, fumbled for a match box, struck a light, and groaned as he read the time. At the sound of the match striking, the young lady turned her head. Then, as the bright flame illuminated the young man's face, she sat bolt upright, dropping the muff to her lap with a cry of dismay. He looked up at her. The match burned his fingers; he dropped it and hurriedly lighted another; and the flickering radiance brightened upon the face of a girl whom he had never before laid eyes on. "Good heavens!" he said, "where's my sister?" The young lady was startled but resolute. "You have made a dreadful mistake," she said; "you are in the wrong cab--" +Theme XX.+--_Write a theme using one of the subjects below:_-- 1. A personal incident. 2. The advantages and disadvantages of recesses. 3. Complete the story commenced in the selection just preceding. (Make a note of the different ideas you may discuss. Which are important enough to become topic statements? Which may be grouped together in one paragraph? In what order shall they occur? After your theme is written, consider the paragraphs. Does the definition apply to them? Are any of them too short or too long?) +43. Reasons for Studying Paragraph Structure.+--A knowledge of the way in which a paragraph is constructed will aid us in determining the thought it contains. There are several methods of developing paragraphs, and usually one of these is better suited than another to the expression of our thought. Attention given to the methods used by others will enable us both to understand better what we read, and to employ more effectively in our own writing that kind of paragraph which best expresses our thought. Hence we shall give attention to the more common forms of paragraph development. +44. Development by Giving Specific Instances.+--If you hear a general statement, such as, "Dogs are useful animals," you naturally think at once of some of the ways in which they are useful, or of some particular occasion on which a dog was of use. If a friend should say, "My dog, Fido, knows many amusing tricks," you would expect the friend to tell you some of them. A large part of our thinking consists of furnishing specific instances to illustrate general ideas which arise. Since the language we use is but the expression of the thoughts we have, it happens that many of our paragraphs are made up of general statements and the specific instances used to illustrate these statements. When the topic sentence is a general statement, we naturally seek to supply specific instances, and the writer will most readily make his meaning clear by furnishing such illustrations. Either one or many instances may be used. The object is to explain the topic statement or to prove its truth, and a good writer will use that number of instances which best accomplishes his purpose. In the following selection notice how the topic statement, set forth and repeated in the first part of the paragraph, is illustrated in the last part by means of several specific instances:-- Nine tenths of all that goes wrong in this world is because some one does not mind his business. When a terrible accident occurs, the first cry is that the means of prevention were not sufficient. Everybody declares we must have a new patent fire escape, an automatic engine switch, or a high-proof non-combustible sort of lamp oil. But a little investigation will usually show that all the contrivances were on hand and in good working order; the real trouble was that somebody didn't mind his business; he didn't obey orders; he thought he knew a better way than the way he was told; he said, "Just this once I'll take the risk," and in so doing, he made other people take the risk too; and the risk was too great. At Toronto, Canada, not long ago, a conductor, against orders, ran his train on a certain siding, which resulted in the death of thirty or forty people. The engineer of a mill, at Rochester, N.Y., thought the engine would stand a higher pressure than the safety valve indicated, so he tied a few bricks to the valve to hold it down; result--four workmen killed, a number wounded, and a mill blown to pieces. The _City of Columbus_, an iron vessel fitted out with all the means of preservation and escape in use on shipboard, was wrecked on the best-known portion of the Atlantic coast, on a moonlight night, at the cost of one hundred lives, because the officer in command took it into his head to save a few ship-lengths in distance by hugging the shore, in direct disobedience to the captain's parting orders. The best-ventilated mine in Colorado was turned into a death trap for half a hundred miners because one of the number entered with a lighted lamp the gallery he had been warned against. Nobody survived to explain the explosion of the dynamite-cartridge factory in Pennsylvania, but as that type of disaster almost always is due to heedlessness, it is probable that this instance is not an exception to the rule. --Wolstan Dixey: _Mind Your Business_. EXERCISES _A._ Which sentences make the general statements, and which furnish specific instances, in the following paragraphs? My contemplations were often interrupted by strangers who came down from Forsyth's to take their first view of the falls. A short, ruddy, middle-aged gentleman, fresh from Old England, peeped over the rock, and evinced his approbation by a broad grin. His spouse, a very robust lady, afforded a sweet example of maternal solicitude, being so intent on the safety of her little boy that she did not even glance at Niagara. As for the child, he gave himself wholly to the enjoyment of a stick of candy. Another traveler, a native American, and no rare character among us, produced a volume of Captain Hall's tour, and labored earnestly to adjust Niagara to the captain's description, departing, at last, without one new idea or sensation of his own. The next comer was provided, not with a printed book, but with a blank sheet of foolscap, from top to bottom of which, by means of an ever pointed pencil, the cataract was made to thunder. In a little talk which we had together, he awarded his approbation to the general view, but censured the position of Goat Island, observing that it should have been thrown farther to the right, so as to widen the American falls, and contract those of the Horseshoe. Next appeared two traders of Michigan, who declared that, upon the whole, the sight was worth looking at; there certainly was an immense water power here; but that, after all, they would go twice as far to see the noble stone works of Lockport, where the Grand Canal is locked down a descent of sixty feet. They were succeeded by a young fellow, in a homespun cotton dress, with a staff in his hand, and a pack over his shoulders. He advanced close to the edge of the rock, where his attention, at first wavering among the different components of the scene, finally became fixed in the angle of the Horseshoe falls, which is, indeed, the central point of interest. His whole soul seemed to go forth and be transported thither, till the staff slipped from his relaxed grasp, and falling down--down-- down--struck upon the fragment of the Table Rock. --Hawthorne: _My Visit to Niagara_. No wonder he learned English quickly, for he was ever on the alert--no strange word escaped him, no unusual term. He would say it over and over till he met a friend, and then demand its meaning. One day he came to me with a very troubled face. "Madame," he said, "please tell me why shall a man, like me, like any man, be a 'bluenose'?" "A what?" I asked. "A 'bluenose.' So he was called in the restaurant, but he seemed not offended about it. I have looked in my books; I can't find any disease of that name." With ill-suppressed laughter I asked, "Do you know Nova Scotia and Newfoundland?" "I hear the laugh in your voice," he said; then added, "Yes, I know both these places." "They are very cold and foggy and wet," I explained. But with brightening eyes he caught up the sentence and continued: "And the people have blue noses, eh? Ha! ha! Excuse me, then, but is a milksop a man from some state, or some country, too?" At tea some one used the word "claptrap." "What's that?" quickly demanded the student in our midst. "'Claptrap'--'clap' is so (he struck his hands together); 'trap' is for rats--what is, then, 'claptrap'?" "It is a vulgar or unworthy bid for applause," I explained. "Bah!" he contemptuously exclaimed. "I know him,--that cheap actor who plays at the gallery. He is, then, in English a 'clap-trapper,' is he not?" It was hardly possible to meet him without having a word or a term offered thus for explanation. --Clara Morris: _Alessandro Salvini_ ("McClure's"). _B._ Write six sentences which might be developed into paragraphs by giving specific instances. +Theme XXI.+--_Write a paragraph by furnishing specific instances for one of the following topic statements:_-- 1. Nine tenths of all that goes wrong in this world is because some one does not mind his business. 2. It requires a man of courage and perseverance to become a pioneer. 3. Even the wisest teacher does not always punish the boy who is most at fault. 4. It is impossible to teach a dog many amusing tricks. 5. Even so stupid a creature as a chicken may sometimes exhibit much intelligence. 6. Carelessness often leads into difficulty. 7. Our school clock must see many interesting things. 8. Our first impressions are not always our best ones. 9. I am a very busy lead pencil, for my duties are numerous. 10. Dickens's characters are taken from the lower classes of people. 11. Some portions of the book I am reading are very interesting. (Do your specific instances really illustrate the topic statement? Have you said what you intended to say? Can you omit any words or sentences? Have you used _and_ or _got_ unnecessarily?). +45. Development by Giving Details.+--Many general statements lead to a desire to know the details, and the writer may make his idea clearer by giving them. The statement, "The wedding ceremony was impressive," at once arouses a desire to know the details. If a friend should say, "I enjoyed my trip to the city," we wish him to relate that which pleased him. These details assist us in understanding the topic statement, and increase our interest in it. Notice in the paragraphs below how much is added to our understanding of the topic statement by the sentences that give the details:-- 1. I left my garden for a week, just at the close of a dry spell. A season of rain immediately set in, and when I returned the transformation was wonderful. In one week every vegetable had fairly jumped forward. The tomatoes, which I left slender plants, eaten of bugs and debating whether they would go backward or forward, had become stout and lusty, with thick stems and dark leaves, and some of them had blossomed. The corn waved like that which grows so rank out of the French-English mixture at Waterloo. The squashes--I will not speak of the squashes. The most remarkable growth was the asparagus. There was not a spear above ground when I went away; and now it had sprung up, and gone to seed, and there were stalks higher than my head. --Warner: _My Summer in a Garden_. 2. The wedding ceremony was solemn and beautiful, in the church on the estate. At the door of the palace stood the mother of the bride, to greet her return from the ceremony with the blessing, "May you always have bread and salt," as she served her from a loaf of black bread, with a salt cellar in the center, as is the Russian custom for prince and peasant. Just at this dramatic moment a courier dashed up with a telegram from the Czar and Czarina, and their gifts for the bride,--a magnificent tiara and necklace of diamonds. The other presents were already displayed in a magnificent room; but we saw their splendor through the glass of locked cases,--a precaution surprising to an Englishwoman. The large swan of forcemeat was the only reminder of boyar customs at the rather Parisian feast. Wine was served between the courses, with a toast; while guests in turn left their seats to express their sentiments to bride and groom, who stood to receive them. --Mary Louise Dunbar: _The Household of a Russian Prince_ ("Atlantic Monthly "). +Theme XXII.+--_Write a paragraph by giving details for one of the following topic statements:_-- 1. There were many interesting things on the farm where I spent my summer vacation. 2. The sounds heard in the forest at night are somewhat alarming to one who is not used to the language of the woods. 3. I am always much amused when the Sewing Circle meets at my mother's house. 4. Good roads are of advantage to farmers in many ways. 5. A baseball game furnishes abundant opportunity to exercise good judgment. 6. I remember well the first time that I visited a large city. 7. I shall never forget my first attempt at milking a cow. 8. The haunted house is a square, old-fashioned one of the colonial type. 9. A mouse suddenly entering the class room caused much disturbance. 10. A freshman's trials are numerous. (Do the details bear upon the main idea? If the paragraph is long and rambling, condense by omitting the least important parts. By changing the order of the sentences, can you improve the paragraph?) +46. Details Related in Time-Order.+--The experiences of daily life follow each other in time, and when we read of a series of events we at once think of them as having occurred in a certain time-order. To assist in establishing the correct time-order, the writer should generally state the details of his story in the order in which they occurred. The method of showing time relations for simultaneous events has been discussed in Section 11. If the narrative is of considerable length, it may be divided into paragraphs, each dealing with some particular stage of its progress. The time relations among the sentences within the paragraph and among the paragraphs themselves should be such that the reader may readily follow the thread of the story to its main point. Narrative paragraphs often do not have topic sentences. In the following selection from _Black Beauty_ notice how the time relations give unity of thought both to the paragraphs and to the whole selection:-- He hung my rein on one of the iron spikes, and was soon hidden among the trees. Lizzie was standing quietly by the side of the road, a few paces off, with her back to me. My young mistress was sitting easily, with a loose rein, humming a little song. I listened to my rider's footsteps until he reached the house, and heard him knock at the door. There was a meadow on the opposite side of the road, the gate of which stood open. As I looked, some cart horses and several young colts came trotting out in a very disorderly manner, while a boy behind was cracking a great whip. The colts were wild and frolicsome. One of them bolted across the road and blundered up against Lizzie. Whether it was the stupid colt or the loud cracking of the whip, or both together, I cannot say, but she gave a violent kick and dashed off into a headlong gallop. It was so sudden that Lady Anne was nearly unseated, but she soon recovered herself. I gave a long, shrill neigh for help. Again and again I neighed, pawing the ground impatiently, and tossing my head to get the rein loose. I had not long to wait. Blantyre came running to the gate. He looked anxiously about, and just caught sight of the flying figure now far away on the road. In an instant he sprang to the saddle. I needed no whip, no spur, for I was as eager as my rider. He saw it; and giving me a free rein, and leaning a little forward, we dashed after them. For about a mile and a half the road ran straight, then bent to the right; after this it divided into two roads. Long before we came to the bend my mistress was out of sight. Which way had she turned? A woman was standing at her garden gate, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking eagerly up the road. Scarcely drawing rein, Lord Blantyre shouted, "Which way?" "To the right!" cried the woman, pointing with her hand, and away we went up the right-hand road. For a moment we caught sight of Lady Anne; another bend, and she was hidden again. Several times we caught glimpses of the flying rider, only to lose her again. We scarcely seemed to gain ground upon her at all. An old road mender was standing near a heap of stones, his shovel dropped and his hands raised. As we came near he made a sign to speak. Lord Blantyre drew the rein a little. "To the common, to the common, sir! She has turned off there." I knew this common very well. It was, for the most part, very uneven ground, covered with heather and dark-green bushes, with here and there a scrubby thorn tree. There were also open spaces of fine, short grass, with ant-hills and mole turns everywhere--the worst place I ever knew for a headlong gallop. We had just turned on to the common, when we caught sight again of the green habit flying on before us. My mistress's hat was gone, and her long brown hair was streaming behind her. Her head and body were thrown back, as if she were pulling with all her remaining strength, and as if that strength were nearly exhausted. It was clear that the roughness of the ground had very much lessened Lizzie's speed, and there seemed a chance that we might overtake her. While we were on the highroad, Lord Blantyre had given me my head; but now, with a light hand and a practiced eye, he guided me over the ground in such a masterly manner that my pace was scarcely slackened, and we gained on them every moment. About halfway across the common a wide dike had recently been cut and the earth from the cutting cast up roughly on the other side. Surely this would stop them! But no; scarcely pausing, Lizzie took the leap, stumbled among the rough clods, and fell. --Anne Sewell: _Black Beauty_. +Theme XXIII.+--_Write a brief narrative giving unity to the paragraphs by means of the time relations._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. An adventure on horseback. 2. A trip with the engineer. 3. A day on the river. 4. Fido's mishaps. 5. An inquisitive crow. 6. The unfortunate letter carrier. 7. Teaching a calf to drink. 8. The story of a silver dollar. 9. A narrow escape. 10.An afternoon at the circus. 11.A story accounting for the situation shown in the picture on page 90. (Do you need more than one paragraph? If so, is each a group of sentences treating of a single topic? Can the reader follow the thread of your story? Leave out details not essential to the main point.) +47. Order of Details Determined by Position in Space.+--The order of presentation of details may be determined by the position that the details themselves occupy in space. In description we wish both to give a correct general impression of the thing described, and to make certain details clear. The general impression should be given in the first sentence or two and the details should follow. The effectiveness of the details will depend upon their order of presentation. When one looks at a scene the eye passes from one object to another near it; similarly when one is recalling the scene the image of one thing naturally recalls that of an adjoining one. A skillful writer takes advantage of this habit of thinking, and states the details in his description in the order in which we would naturally see them if we were actually looking at them. By so doing he most easily presents to our minds the image he wishes to convey. [Illustration] In the following paragraphs notice that we get first an impression of the general appearance, to which we are enabled to add new details as the description proceeds. The companion of the church dignitary was a man past forty, thin, strong, tall, and muscular; an athletic figure, which long fatigue and constant exercise seemed to have left none of the softer part of the human form, having reduced the whole to brawn, bones, and sinews, which had sustained a thousand toils, and were ready to dare a thousand more. His head was covered with a scarlet cap, faced with fur, of that kind which the French call _mortier_, from its resemblance to the shape of an inverted mortar. His countenance was therefore fully displayed, and its expression was calculated to impress a degree of awe, if not of fear, upon strangers. High features, naturally strong and powerfully expressive, had been burnt almost into negro blackness by constant exposure to the tropical sun, and might, in their ordinary state, be said to slumber after the storm of passion had passed away; but the projection of the veins of the forehead, the readiness with which the upper lip and its thick black mustache quivered upon the slightest emotion, plainly intimated that the tempest might be again and easily awakened. His keen, piercing, dark eyes told in every glance a history of difficulties subdued and dangers dared, and seemed to challenge opposition to his wishes, for the pleasure of sweeping it from his road by a determined exertion of courage and of will; a deep scar on his brow gave additional sternness to his countenance and a sinister expression to one of his eyes, which had been slightly injured on the same occasion, and of which the vision, though perfect, was in a slight and partial degree distorted. The upper dress of this personage resembled that of his companion in shape, being a long monastic mantle; but the color, being scarlet, showed that he did not belong to any of the four regular orders of monks. On the right shoulder of the mantle there was cut, in white cloth, a cross of a peculiar form. This upper robe concealed what at first view seemed rather inconsistent with its form, a shirt, namely, of linked mail, with sleeves and gloves of the same, curiously plaited and interwoven, as flexible to the body as those which are now wrought in the stocking loom out of less obdurate materials. The fore part of his thighs, where the folds of his mantle permitted them to be seen, were also covered with linked mail; the knees and feet were defended by splints, or thin plates of steel, ingeniously jointed upon each other; and mail hose, reaching from the ankle to the knee, effectually protected the legs, and completed the rider's defensive armor. In his girdle he wore a long and double-edged dagger, which was the only offensive weapon about his person. He rode, not a mule, like his companion, but a strong hackney for the road, to save his gallant war horse, which a squire led behind, fully accoutered for battle, with a chamfron or plaited headpiece upon his head, having a short spike projecting from the front. On one side of the saddle hung a short battle-ax, richly inlaid with Damascene carving; on the other the rider's plumed headpiece and hood of mail, with a long two-handed sword, used by the chivalry of the period. A second squire held aloft his master's lance, from the extremity of which fluttered a small banderole, or streamer, bearing a cross of the same form with that embroidered upon his cloak. He also carried his small triangular shield, broad enough at the top to protect the breast, and from thence diminishing to a point. It was covered with a scarlet cloth, which prevented the device from being seen. --Scott: _Ivanhoe_. Notice also how the description proceeds in an orderly way from one thing to another, placing together in the description those which occur together in the person described. Just as we turn our eyes naturally from one thing to another near it in space, so in a paragraph should our attention be called from one thing to that which naturally accompanies it. If the first sentence describes a man's eyes, the second his feet, and a third his forehead, our mental image is likely to become confused. If a description covers several paragraphs, each may be given a unity by placing in it those things which are associated in space. EXERCISES _A._ If you were to write three paragraphs describing a man, which of the following details should be included in each paragraph? (_a_) eyes, (_b_) shoes, (_c_) size, (_d_) complexion, (_e_) general appearance, (_f_) hair, (_g_) carriage, (_h_) trousers,(_i_) mouth, (_j_) coat, (_k_) nose. _B._ Make a list of the details which might be mentioned in describing the outside of a church. Arrange them in appropriate groups. _C._ In the following paragraphs which sentences give the general outline and which give details? Are the details arranged with reference to their position in space? Can the paragraph be improved by rearranging them? 1. We came finally to a brook more wild and mysterious than the others. There were a half dozen stepping-stones between the path we were on and the place where it began again on the opposite side. After a few missteps and much laughter we were landed at last, but several of the party had wet feet to remember the experience by. We found ourselves in a space that had once been a clearing. A tumbledown chimney overgrown with brambles and vines told of an abandoned hearthstone. The blackened remnants of many a picnic camp fire strewed the ground. A slight turn brought us to the spot where the Indian Spring welled out of the hillside. The setting was all that we could have hoped for,--great moss-grown rocks wet and slippery, deep shade which almost made us doubt the existence of the hot August sunshine at the edge of the forest, cool water dripping and tinkling. A half-dozen great trees had been so undermined by the action of the water long ago that they had tumbled headlong into the stream bed. There they lay, heads down, crisscross--one completely spanning the brook just below the spring--their tangled roots like great dragons twisting and thrusting at the shadows. The water trickled slowly over the smooth rocky bottom as if reluctant to leave a spot enchanted. A few yards below, the overflow from Indian Spring joined the main stream, and their waters mingled in a pretty little cataract. We went below and looked back at it. How it wrinkled and paused over the level spaces, played with the bubbles in the eddies, and ran laughing and turning somersaults wherever the ledges were abrupt. --Mary Rodgers Miller: _The Brook Book_. (Copyright, 1902, by Doubleday, Page & Co.) 2. Rowena was tall in stature, yet not so much so as to attract observation on account of superior height. Her complexion was exquisitely fair, but the noble cast of her head and features prevented the insipidity which sometimes attaches to fair beauties. Her clear blue eyes, which sat enshrined beneath a graceful eyebrow of brown, sufficiently marked to give expression to the forehead, seemed capable to kindle as well as to melt, to command as well as to beseech. Her profuse hair, of a color betwixt brown and flaxen, was arranged in a fanciful and graceful manner in numerous ringlets, to form which art had probably been aided by nature. These locks were braided with gems, and being worn at full length, intimated the noble birth and free-born condition of the maiden. A golden chain, to which was attached a small reliquary of the same metal, hung around her neck. She wore bracelets on her arms, which were bare. Her dress was an under gown and kirtle of pale sea-green silk, over which hung a long loose robe, which reached to the ground, having very wide sleeves, which came down, however, very little below the elbow. This robe was crimson, and manufactured out of the very finest wool. A veil of silk, interwoven with gold, was attached to the upper part of it, which could be, at the wearer's pleasure, either drawn over the face and bosom after the Spanish fashion, or disposed as a sort of drapery round the shoulders. --Scott: _Ivanhoe_. +Theme XXIV.+--_Write a paragraph and arrange the details with reference to their association in space._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. Ichabod Crane. 2. Rip Van Winkle. 3. The man who lives near us. 4. A minister I met yesterday. 5. Our family doctor. 6. The gymnasium. 7. A fire engine. 8. The old church. 9. The shoe factory. 10. Some character in the book you are reading. (Which sentence gives the general impression and which sentences give the details? Are the details arranged with reference to their real space order? Should others be added? Can any be omitted? Will the reader form the mental image you wish him to form?) +48. Development by Comparison.+--In Section 29 we found that comparison, whether literal or figurative, aided us in forming mental images of objects. In a similar way events and general principles may be explained by making suitable comparisons. We are continually comparing one thing with another. Every idea tends to recall other ideas that are similar to it or in contrast with it. When an unfamiliar idea is presented to us we at once seek to associate it with similar ideas already known to us. A writer, therefore, will make his meaning clear by furnishing, the desired comparisons. If these are familiar to us, they enable us to understand the new ideas presented. Even when both ideas in the comparison are unfamiliar, each may gain in clearness by comparison with the other. In comparing two objects, events, or principles we may point out that they are _not_ alike in certain respects. A comparison that thus emphasizes differences, rather than likenesses, becomes a contrast. The contrast may be given in a single sentence or in a single paragraph, but often a paragraph or more may be required for each of the two ideas contrasted. EXERCISE Notice how comparisons and contrasts are used in the following paragraphs:-- 1. Niagara is the largest cataract in the world, while Yosemite is the highest; it is the volume that impresses you at Niagara, and it is the height of Yosemite and the grand surroundings that make its beauty. Niagara is as wide as Yosemite is high, and if it had no more water than Yosemite has, it would not be of much consequence. The sound of the two falls is quite different: Niagara makes a steady roar, deep and strong, though not oppressive, while Yosemite is a crash and rattle, owing to the force of the water as it strikes the solid rock after its immense leap. 2. It is not only in appearance that London and New York differ widely. They also speak with different accents, for cities have distinctive accents as well as people. Tennyson wrote about "streaming London's central roar"; the roar is a gentle hum compared with the din which tingles the ears of visitors to New York. The accent of New York is harsh, grating, jarring. The rattle of the elevated railroad, the whir of the cable cars, the ringing of electric-car bells, the rumble of vehicles over the hard stones, the roar of the traffic as it reechoes through the narrow canyons of down-town streets, produce an appalling combination of discords. The streets of New York are not more crowded than those of London, but the noise in London is subdued. It is more regular, less jarring and piercing. The muffled sounds in London are due partly to the wooden and asphalt pavements, which deaden the sounds. London must be soothing to the New Yorker, as the noise of New York is at first disconcerting to the Londoner.--_Outlook._ 3. Now their separate characters are briefly these. The man's power is active, progressive, defensive. He is eminently the doer, the creator, the discoverer, the defender. His intellect is for speculation and invention; his energy for adventure, for war, and for conquest wherever war is just, wherever conquest necessary. But the woman's power is for rule, not for battle, and her intellect is not for invention or creation, but for sweet ordering, arrangement, and decision. She sees the qualities of things, their claims, and their places. --Ruskin: _Sesame and Lilies_. +Theme XXV.+--_Write a paragraph using comparison or contrast._ Suggested topics:-- 1. The school, a beehive. 2. The body, a steam engine. 3. Two generals about whom you have read. 4. Girls, boys. 5. Two of your studies. 6. Graded school work, high school work. 7. Animal life, plant life. 8. Two of your classmates. (Have you used comparison or contrast? Have you introduced any of the other methods of development? Have you developed the paragraph so that the reader will understand fully your topic statement? Omit sentences not really needed.) +49. Development by Stating Cause and Effect.+--We are better satisfied with our understanding of a thing if we know the causes which have produced it or the effects which follow it. Likewise we feel that another has mastered the topic statement of a paragraph if he can answer the question, Why is this so? or, What will result from this? When either is stated, we naturally begin to think about the other. The idea of a topic statement may, therefore, be satisfactorily developed by stating its causes or its effects. A cause may be stated and the effects given or the effects may be made the topic statement for which we account by giving its causes. The importance of the relation of cause and effect to scientific study is discussed in the following paragraph from Mill:-- The relation of cause and effect is the fundamental law of nature. There is no recorded instance of an effect appearing without a previous cause, or of a cause acting without producing its full effect. Every change in nature is the effect of some previous change and the cause of some change to follow; just as the movement of each carriage near the middle of a long train is a result of the movement of the one in front and a precursor of the movement of the one behind. Facts or effects are to be seen everywhere, but causes have usually to be sought for. It is the function of science or organized knowledge to observe all effects, or phenomena, and to seek for their causes. This twofold purpose gives richness and dignity to science. The observation and classifying of facts soon become wearisome to all but the specialist actually engaged in the work. But when reasons are assigned, and classification explained, when the number of causes is reduced and the effects begin to crystallize into essential and clearly related parts of one whole, every intelligent student finds interest, and many, more fortunate, even fascination in the study. --Mill: _The Realm of Nature_. (Copyright, 1892, by Charles Scribner's Sons.) EXERCISES _A._ In your reading, notice how often the effects are indicated by the use of some one of the following expressions: _as a result, accordingly, consequently, for, hence, so, so that, thus._ _B._ Which sentences state causes and which state effects in the following paragraphs? 1. The power of water to dissolve most minerals increases with its temperature and the amount of gases it contains. Percolating water at great depths, therefore, generally dissolves more mineral matter than it can hold in solution when it reaches the surface, where it cools, and, being relieved of pressure, much of its carbonic acid gas escapes to the atmosphere or is absorbed by aquatic plants or mosses. Hence, deep-seated springs are usually surrounded by a deposit of the minerals with which the water is impregnated. Sometimes this deposit may even form large hills; sometimes it forms a mound around the spring, over the sides of which the water falls, while the spray, evaporating from surrounding objects, leaves them also incrusted with a mineral deposit. Percolating water evaporating on the sides and roof of limestone caverns, leaves the walls incrusted with carbonate of lime in beautiful masses of crystals. Water slowly evaporating as it drips from the roof of caverns to the floor beneath leaves a deposit on both places, which gradually grows downward from the roof as a _stalactite_, and upward from the floor as a _stalagmite_, until these meet and form one continuous column of stone. --Hinman: _Eclectic Physical Geography_. 2. The frequent use of cigars or cigarettes by the young seriously affects the quality of the blood. The red blood corpuscles are not fully developed and charged with their normal supply of life-giving oxygen. This causes paleness of the skin, often noticed in the face of the young smoker. Palpitation of the heart is also a common result, followed by permanent weakness, so that the whole system is enfeebled, and mental vigor is impaired as well as physical strength. Observant teachers can usually tell which of the boys under their care are addicted to smoking, simply by the comparative inferiority of their appearance, and by their intellectual and bodily indolence and feebleness. After full maturity is attained the evil effects of commencing the use of tobacco are less apparent; but competent physicians assert that it cannot be safely used by those under the age of forty. --Macy-Norris: _Physiology for High Schools_. 3. In many other ways, too, the Norman Conquest affected England. For example, before long all the best places in the Church were filled with foreigners. But most of the new bishops and abbots were far superior in morals and education to the Englishmen whom they succeeded. They were also devoted to the Pope of Rome, and soon made the English National Church a part of the Roman Catholic Church. But William, while willing to bow to the Pope as his chief in religious matters, refused to give way to him in things which concerned only this world. No former English king had done that, he knew, and no more would he. This union with the Roman Catholic Church was of the greatest benefit to England, as it brought her once more into connection with the educated men of Europe. Indeed, Lanfranc, the Conqueror's Archbishop of Canterbury, was one of the best and wisest men of his day. --Higginson and Channing: _English History for American Readers_. +Theme XXVI.+--_Develop one of the following topic statements into paragraphs by stating causes or effects:_-- 1. A government which had no soldiers to call upon in an emergency would not last long. 2. One of the first needs of a new country is roads. 3. The number of people receiving public support is smaller in this country than in Europe. 4. An efficient postal system is a great aid to civilization. 5. A straight stream is an impossibility in nature. 6. Mountain ranges have great influence upon climate. 7. The United States holds first place as a manufacturing nation. 8. There are many swift rivers in New England. 9. Towns or cities are located at the mouths of navigable rivers. (Which sentences state causes and which state effects? Would the effects which you have stated really follow the given causes?) +50. Development by Repetition.+--The repetition of a thought in different form will often make plain that which we do not at first understand. This is especially true if the repetitions are accompanied by new comparisons. In every school the teacher makes daily use of repetition in her efforts to explain to the pupils that which they do not understand. In a similar way a writer makes use of this tendency of ours, and develops the idea of the topic sentence by repetition. Each sentence should, however, do more than merely repeat. It should add something to the central idea, making this idea clearer, more definite, or more emphatic. If repetition is excessive and purposeless, it becomes a fault. Repetition may extend through the whole paragraph, or it may be used to explain any sentence or any part of a sentence. It may tell what the thing is or what it is not, and in effect becomes a definition setting limits to the original idea. EXERCISE Notice how the idea in the topic statement of each of the following paragraphs is repeated in those which follow:-- 1. No man ever made a complete new system of law and gave it to a people. No monarch, however absolute or powerful, ever had the power to change the habits of a people to that extent. Revolution generally means, not a change of law, but merely a change of government officials; even when it is a change from monarchy to democracy. Our Revolution made practically no changes in the criminal and civil laws of the colonies. --Clark: _The Government_. 2. People talk of liberty as if it meant the liberty to do just what a man likes. I call that man free who fears doing wrong, but fears nothing else. I call that man free who has learned the most blessed of all truths,--that liberty consists in obedience to the power, and to the will, and to the law that his higher soul reverences and approves. He is not free because he does what he likes; but he is free because he does what he ought, and there is no protest in his soul against the doing. --Frederick William Robertson. 3. This dense forest was to the Indians a home in which they had lived from childhood, and where they were as much at ease as a farmer on his own acres. To their keen eyes, trained for generations to more than a wild beast's watchfulness, the wilderness was an open book. Nothing at rest or in motion escaped them. They had begun to track game as soon as they could walk; a scrape on a tree trunk, a bruised leaf, a faint indentation of the soil, which no white man could see, all told them a tale as plainly as if it had been shouted in their ears. --Theodore Roosevelt: _The Winning of the West_. 4. Public enterprises, whether conducted by the municipality or committed to the public service corporation, exist to render public services. Streets are public highways. They exist for the people's use. Nothing should be placed in them unless required to facilitate their use by or for the people. Only the general need of water, gas, electricity, and transportation justifies the placing of pipes and wires and tracks in the streets. The public need is the sole test and measure of such occupation. To look upon the streets as a source of private gain, or even municipal revenue, except as incidents of their public use, is to disregard their public character. Adequate service at the lowest practicable rates, not gain or revenue, is the test. The question is, not how much the public service corporation may gain, but what can be saved to the people by its employment. --Edwin Burrett Smith: _The Next Step in Municipal Reform_ ("Atlantic Monthly"). +Theme XXVII.+--_Develop one of the following topic statements into a paragraph, using the method, of repetition as far as possible:_-- 1. It is difficult to become angry with one who is always good-natured. 2. It is gloomy in the woods on a rainy day. 3. The government is always in need of honest men. 4. Rural free delivery of mail will have a great effect on country life. 5. Not every boy in school uses his time to the best advantage. 6. Haste is waste. 7. Regular exercise is one of the essentials of good health. (Have the repetitions really made the idea of the topic sentence clearer or more emphatic or more definite? What other methods of development have you used?) +51. Development by a Combination of Methods.+--A paragraph should have unity of thought, and, so long as this unity of thought is kept, it does not matter what methods of development are used. A dozen paragraphs taken at random will show that combinations are very frequent. Often it will be difficult to determine just how a paragraph has been developed. In general, however, it may be said that an indiscriminate mixture of methods is confusing and interferes with unity of thought. If more than one is used, it requires skillful handling to maintain such a relation between them that both contribute to the clear and emphatic statement of the main thought. The paragraph from Dryer, page 74, shows a combination of cause and effect with specific illustrations; that from Wolstan Dixey, page 81, shows a combination of repetition with specific instances. EXERCISES What methods of paragraph development, or what combinations of methods, are used in the following selections? 1. I believe the first test of a truly great man is his humility. I do not mean, by humility, doubt of his power, or hesitation in speaking of his opinions; but a right understanding of the relation between what he can do and say and the rest of the world's sayings and doings. All great men not only know their business, but usually know that they know it; and are not only right in their main opinions, but they usually know that they are right in them; only they do not think much of themselves on that account. Arnolfo knows he can build a good dome at Florence; Albert Duerer writes calmly to one who had found fault with his work, "It cannot be better done"; Sir Isaac Newton knows that he has worked out a problem or two that would have puzzled anybody else; only they do not expect their fellow-men therefore to fall down and worship them; they have a curious undersense of powerlessness, feeling that the greatness is not _in_ them, but _through_ them; that they could not do or be anything else than God made them. And they see something divine and God-made in every other man they meet, and are endlessly, foolishly, and incredibly merciful. --Ruskin. 2. The first thing to be noted about the dress of the Romans is that its prevalent material was always woolen. Sheep raising for wool was practiced among them on an extensive scale, from the earliest historic times, and the choice breeds of that animal, originally imported from Greece or Asia Minor, took so kindly to the soil and climate of Italy that home-grown wool came even to be preferred to the foreign for fineness and softness of quality. Foreign wools were, however, always imported more or less, partly because the supply of native wools seems never to have been quite sufficient, partly because the natural colors of wools from different parts varied so considerably as to render the art of the dyer to some extent unnecessary. Thus, the wools of Canusium were brown or reddish, those of Pollentia in Liguria were black, those from the Spanish Baetica, which comprised Andalusia and a part of Granada, had either a golden brown or a grayish hue; the wools of Asia were almost red; and there was a Grecian fleece, called the crow colored, of which the natural tint was a peculiarly deep and brilliant black. --Preston and Dodge: _'The Private Life of the Romans_. 3. Art has done everything for Munich. It lies on a large flat plain sixteen hundred feet above the sea and continually exposed to the cold winds from the Alps. At the beginning of the present century it was but a third-rate city, and was rarely visited by foreigners; since that time its population and limits have been doubled, and magnificent edifices in every style of architecture erected, rendering it scarcely secondary in this respect to any capital in Europe. Every art that wealth or taste could devise seems to have been spent in its decoration. Broad, spacious streets and squares have been laid out; churches, halls, and colleges erected, and schools of painting and sculpture established which drew artists from all parts of the world. --Taylor: _Views Afoot_. 4. In all excursions to the woods or to the shore the student of ornithology has an advantage over his companions. He has one more, avenue of delight. He, indeed, kills two birds with one stone and sometimes three. If others wander, he can never get out of his way. His game is everywhere. The cawing of a crow makes him feel at home, while a new note or a new song drowns all care. Audubon, on the desolate coast of Labrador, is happier than any king ever was; and on shipboard is nearly cured of his seasickness when a new gull appears in sight. --Burroughs: _Wake Robin_. +Theme XXVIII.+--_Write a paragraph, using any method or combination of methods which best suits your thought. Use any of the subjects hitherto suggested that you have not already used._ (Is every sentence related to the topic statement so that your paragraph possesses unity? What methods of development have you used?) +52. The Topical Recitation.+--In conducting a recitation the teacher may ask direct questions about each part of a paragraph or she may ask a pupil to discuss some topic. Such a topical recitation should be an exercise in clear thinking rather than in word memory, and in order to prepare for it, the pupil should have made a careful analysis of the thought in each paragraph similar to that discussed on page 74. When this analysis has been made he will have clearly in mind the topic statement and the way it has been developed, and will be able to distinguish the essential from the non-essential elements. A topical recitation demands that the pupil know the main idea and be able to develop it in one of the following methods, or by a combination of them: (1) by giving specific instances, (2) by giving details, (3) by giving comparisons or contrasts, (4) by giving causes or effects, and (5) by repetition. Thoughts so mastered are our own. We understand them and believe them; and consequently we can explain them, or describe them, or prove them to others. We can furnish details or instances, originate comparisons, or state causes and effects. _When ideas gained from language have thus become our own, we do not need to remember the language in which they were expressed, and not until then do they become proper material for composition purposes._ +53. Outlining Paragraphs.+--Making an outline of a paragraph that we have read brings the thought clearly before our mind. In a similar way we may make our own thoughts clear and definite by attempting to prepare in advance an outline of a paragraph that we are about to write. Arranging the material that we have in mind and deciding upon the order in which we shall present it, will both help us to understand the thought ourselves, and enable us to present it more effectively to others. EXERCISES _A._ Prepare for recitation the following selection from Newcomer's introduction to Macaulay's _Milton and Addison:_-- There were two faculties of Macaulay's mind that set his work far apart from other work in the same field,--the faculties of organization and illustration. He saw things in their right relation and he knew how to make others see them thus. If he was describing, he never thrust minor details into the foreground. If he was narrating, he never "got ahead of his story." The importance of this is not sufficiently recognized. Many writers do not know what organization means. They do not know that in all great and successful literary work it is nine tenths of the labor. Yet consider a moment. History is a very complex thing: divers events may be simultaneous in their occurrence; or one crisis may be slowly evolving from many causes in many places. It is no light task to tell these things one after another and yet leave a unified impression, to take up a dozen new threads in succession without tangling them and without losing the old ones, and to lay them all down at the right moment and without confusion. Such is the narrator's task, and it was at this task that Macaulay proved himself a past master. He could dispose of a number of trivial events in a single sentence. Thus, for example, runs his account of the dramatist Wycherley's naval career: "He embarked, was present at a battle, and celebrated it, on his return, in a copy of verses too bad for the bellman." On the other hand, when it is a question of a great crisis, like the impeachment of Warren Hastings, he knew how to prepare for it with elaborate ceremony and to portray it in a scene of the highest dramatic power. This faculty of organization shows itself in what we technically name structure; and logical and rhetorical structure may be studied at their very best in his work. His essays are perfect units, made up of many parts, systems within systems, that play together without clog or friction. You can take them apart like a watch and put them together again. But try to rearrange the parts and the mechanism is spoiled. Each essay has its subdivisions, which in turn are groups of paragraphs. And each paragraph is a unit. Take the first paragraph of the essay on Milton: the word _manuscript_ appears in the first sentence, and it reappears in the last; clearly the paragraph deals with a single very definite topic. And so with all. Of course the unity manifests itself in a hundred ways, but it is rarely wanting. Most frequently it takes the form of an expansion of a topic given in the first sentence, or a preparation for a topic to be announced only in the last. These initial and final sentences-- often in themselves both aphoristic and memorable--serve to mark with the utmost clearness the different stages in the progress of the essay. Illustration is of more incidental service, but as used by Macaulay becomes highly organic. For his illustrations are not farfetched or laboriously worked out. They seem to be of one piece with his story or his argument. His mind was quick to detect resemblances and analogies. He was ready with a comparison for everything, sometimes with half a dozen. For example, Addison's essays, he has occasion to say, were different every day of the week, and yet, to his mind, each day like something--like Horace, like Lucian, like the "Tales of Scheherezade." He draws long comparisons between Walpole and Townshend, between Congreve and Wycherley, between Essex and Villiers, between the fall of the Carlovingians and the fall of the Moguls. He follows up a general statement with swarms of instances. Have historians been given to exaggerating the villainy of Machiavelli? Macaulay can name you half a dozen who did so. Did the writers of Charles's faction delight in making their opponents appear contemptible? "They have told us that Pym broke down in a speech, that Ireton had his nose pulled by Hollis, that the Earl of Northumberland cudgeled Henry Marten, that St. John's manners were sullen, that Vane had an ugly face, that Cromwell had a red nose." Do men fail when they quit their own province for another? Newton failed thus; Bentley failed; Inigo Jones failed; Wilkie failed. In the same way he was ready with quotations. He writes in one of his letters: "It is a dangerous thing for a man with a very strong memory to read very much. I could give you three or four quotations this moment in support of that proposition; but I will bring the vicious propensity under subjection, if I can." Thus we see his mind doing instantly and involuntarily what other minds do with infinite pains, bringing together all things that have a likeness or a common bearing. It is precisely these talents that set Macaulay among the simplest and clearest of writers, and that accounts for much of his popularity. People found that in taking up one of his articles they simply read on and on, never puzzling over the meaning of a sentence, getting the exact force of every statement, and following the trend of thought with scarcely a mental effort. And his natural gift of making things plain he took pains to support by various devices. He constructed his sentences after the simplest normal fashion, subject and verb and object, sometimes inverting for emphasis, but rarely complicating, and always reducing expression to the barest terms. He could write, for example, "One advantage the chaplain had," but it is impossible to conceive of his writing, "Now, amid all the discomforts and disadvantages with which the unfortunate chaplain was surrounded, there was one thing which served to offset them, and which, if he chose to take the opportunity of enjoying it, might well be regarded as a positive advantage." One will search his pages in vain for loose, trailing clauses and involved constructions. His vocabulary was of the same simple nature. He had a complete command of ordinary English and contented himself with that. He rarely ventured beyond the most abridged dictionary. An occasional technical term might be required, but he was shy of the unfamiliar. He would coin no words and he would use no archaisms. Foreign words, when fairly naturalized, he employed sparingly. "We shall have no disputes about diction," he wrote to Napier, Jeffrey's successor; "the English language is not so poor but that I may very well find in it the means of contenting both you and myself." _B._ Recite upon some topic taken from your other lessons for the day. Let the class tell what method of development you have used. _C._ Make a collection of well-written paragraphs illustrating each of the methods of development. +Theme XXIX.+--_Write two paragraphs using the same topic statement, but developing each by a different method._ Suggested topic statements:-- 1. The principal tools of government are buildings, guns, and money. 2. The civilized world was never so orderly as now. 3. Law suits take time, especially in cities; sometimes they take years. 4. There is a difference between law and justice. 5. We cry for a multitude of reasons of surprising variety. 6. In the growth of a child nothing is more surprising than his ceaseless activity. 7. Education for the children of a nation is a benefit to the whole nation. (Have you said what you intended to say? What methods of development have you used? Is the main thought of the two paragraphs the same even though they begin with the same sentence?) SUMMARY 1. Language is (1) a means of expressing ideas, and (2) a medium through which ideas are acquired. 2. The acquisition of ideas by means of language requires:-- _a._ That we know the meanings of words, and so avoid forming incomplete images (Section 27) and incomplete thoughts (Section 33). _b._ That we understand the relations in thought existing among words, phrases, clauses, sentences, and paragraphs (Section 32). 3. Ideas acquired through language may be used for composition purposes-- _a._ Provided we form complete and accurate images and do not confuse the image with the language that suggested it (Section 28). _b._ Provided we make the main thoughts so thoroughly our own that we can furnish details and instances, originate comparisons, or state causes and effects, and thus become able to describe them or explain them, or prove them to others (Section 52). Until both _a_ and _b_ as stated above are done, ideas acquired through language are undesirable for composition purposes. 4. Comparisons aid in the forming of correct images. They may be literal or imaginative. If imaginative, they become figures of speech. 5. Figures of speech. (Complete list in the Appendix.) _a._ A simile is a direct comparison. _b._ A metaphor is an implied comparison. _c._ Personification is a modified metaphor, assigning human attributes to objects, abstract ideas, or the lower animals. 6. Suggestions as to the use of figures of speech. _a._ Never write for the purpose of using them. _b._ They should be appropriate to the subject. _c._ One of the two things compared must be familiar to the reader. _d._ Avoid hackneyed figures. _e._ Avoid long figures. _f._ Avoid mixed metaphors. 7. Choice of words. _a._ Use words presumably familiar to the reader. _b._ Use words that express your exact meaning. Do not confuse similar words. _e._ Avoid the frequent use of the same word (Section 17). 8. Ambiguity of thought must be avoided. Care must be exercised in the use of the forms which show relations in thought between sentences, especially with pronouns and pronominal adjectives (Section 36). 9. A paragraph is a group of sentences related to each other and to one central idea. 10. The topic statement of a paragraph is a brief comprehensive summary of the contents of the paragraph. 11. Methods of paragraph development. A paragraph may be developed-- _a._ By giving specific instances (Section 44). _b._ By giving details (Section 45). The order in which the details are told may be determined by-- (1) The order of their occurrence in time (Section 46). (2) Their position in space (Section 47). _c._ By comparison or contrast (Section 48). _d._ By stating cause and effect (Section 49). _e._ By repetition (Section 50). _f._ By any suitable combination of the methods stated above. 12. The topical recitation demands-- _a._ That the pupil get the central idea of the paragraph and be able to make the topic statement. _b._ That he be able to determine the relative importance of the remaining ideas in the paragraph. _c._ That he know by which of the five methods named above the paragraph has been developed. _d._ That he be able to furnish details, instances, and comparisons of his own. (See Sections 37, 38, 39, 52, 53.) IV. THE PURPOSE OF EXPRESSION +54. Kinds of Composition.+--When considered with reference to the purpose in the mind of the writer, there are two general classes of writing,--that which informs, and that which entertains. The language that we use should make our meaning clear, arouse interest, and give vividness. Writing that informs will lay greatest emphasis on clearness, though it may at the same time be interesting and vivid. We do not add to the value of an explanation by making it dull. On the other hand, writing that entertains, though it must be clear, will lay greater emphasis on interest and vividness. That language is best which combines all three of these characteristics. The writer's purpose will determine to which the emphasis shall be given. Composition is also divided into description, narration, exposition, and argument (including persuasion). These are called forms of discourse. It will be found that this division is also based upon the purpose for which the composition is written. You have occasion to use each of these forms of discourse daily; you describe, you narrate, you explain, you argue, you persuade. You have used language for these purposes from your infancy, and you are now studying composition in order to acquire facility and effectiveness in that use. When this chapter is completed, you will have considered each of the four forms of discourse in an elementary way. A more extended treatment is given in later chapters. EXERCISES _A._ To which of the two general classes of composition would each of the following belong? 1. A business letter. 2. The story of a runaway. 3. A description of a lake written by a geologist. 4. A description of a lake written by a boy who was camping near it. 5. A letter to a friend describing a trip. 6. A text-book on algebra. 7. An application for a position as stenographer. 8. A recipe for making cake. 9. How I made a cake. 10. How to make a kite. 11. A political speech. 12. A debate. _B._ Could a description be written for the purpose of entertaining? Could the same object be described for the purpose of giving information? _C._ To which general class do narratives belong? Explanations? Arguments? +55. Discourse Presupposes an Audience.+--The object of composition is communication, and communication is not concerned with one's self alone. It always involves two,--the one who gives and the one who receives. If its purpose is to inform, it must inform _somebody_; if to entertain, it must entertain _somebody_. To be sure, discourse may be a pleasure to us, because it is a means of self-expression, but it is _useful_ to us because it conveys ideas to that other somebody who hears or reads it. We describe in order that another may picture that which we have experienced; we narrate, events for the entertainment of others; we explain to others that which we understand; and we argue in order to prove to some one the truth of a proposition or to persuade him to action. Thus all discourse, to be useful, demands an audience. Its effective use requires that the writer shall give quite as much attention to the way in which that reader will receive his ideas as he gives to the ideas themselves. "Speaking or writing is, therefore, a double-ended process. It springs from me, it penetrates him; and both of these ends need watching. Is what I say precisely what I mean? That is an important question. Is what I say so shaped that it can readily be assimilated by him who hears? This is a question of quite as great consequence and much more likely to be forgotten.... As I write I must unceasingly study what is the line of least intellectual resistance along which my thought may enter the differently constituted mind; and to that line I must subtly adjust, without enfeebling my meaning. Will this combination of words or that make the meaning clear? Will this order of presentation facilitate swiftness of apprehension or will it clog the movement?"[Footnote: Professor George Herbert Palmer: _Self-cultivation in English_.] In the preceding chapters emphasis has been laid upon the care that a writer must give to saying exactly what he means. This must never be neglected, but we need to add to it a consideration of how best to adapt what we say to the interest and intelligence of our readers. It will become clear in writing the following theme that the discussion of paragraph development in Chapter III was in reality a discussion of methods of adapting our discourse to the mental habits of our readers. +Theme XXX.+--_Write a theme showing which one of the five methods of paragraph development proceeds most nearly in accordance with the way the mind usually acts._ (This theme will furnish a review of the methods of paragraph development treated in Chapter III. If possible, write your theme without consulting the chapter. "Think it out" for yourself. After the theme has been written, review paragraph development treated in Chapter III. Can you improve your theme? What methods of development have you used?) +56. Selecting a Subject.+--Sometimes our theme subjects are chosen for us, but usually we shall need to choose our own subjects. What we should choose depends both upon ourselves and upon those for whom we write. The elements which make a subject suitable for the reader will be considered later. In so far as the writer is concerned, two things determine the suitableness of a subject:-- First, the writer's knowledge of the subject. We cannot make ideas clear to others unless they are clear to us. Our information must be clearly and definitely our own before we can hope to present it effectively. This is one of the advantages possessed by subjects arising from experience. Any subject about which we know little or nothing, should be rejected. We must not, however, reject a subject too soon. When it is first thought of we may find that we have but few ideas about it, but by thinking we may discover that our information is greater than it at first seemed. We may be able to assign reasons or to give instances or to originate comparisons or to add details, and by these processes to amplify our knowledge. Even if we find that we know but little about the subject from our own experience, we may still be able to use it for a composition subject by getting our information from others. We may from conversation or from reading gain ideas that we can make our own and consequently be able to write intelligently. Care must be taken that this "reading up" on a subject does not fill our minds with smatterings of ideas that we think we understand because we can remember the language in which they were expressed; but reading, _supplemented by thinking_, may enable us to write well about a subject concerning which on first thought we seem to know but little. Second, the writer's interest in the subject. It will be found difficult for the writer to present vividly a subject in which he himself has no special interest. Enthusiasm is contagious, and if the writer has a real interest in his subject, he is likely to present his material in such a manner as to arouse interest in others. In our earlier years we are more interested in the material presented by experience and imagination than in that presented by reading, but as we grow older our interest in thoughts conveyed to us by language increases. As we enlarge our knowledge of a subject by reading and by conversation, so we are likely to increase our interest in that subject. A boy may know but little about Napoleon, but the effort to inform himself may cause him to become greatly interested. This interest will lead him to a further search for information about Napoleon, and will at the same time aid in making what he writes entertaining to others. EXERCISES _A._ About which of the following subjects do you now possess a sufficient knowledge to enable you to write a paragraph? In which of them are you interested? Which would you need to "read up" about? 1. Golf. 2. Examinations. 3. Warships. 4. Wireless telegraphy. 5. Radium. 6. Tennis. 7. Automobiles. 8. Picnics. 9. Printing. 10. Bees. 11. Birds. 12. Pyrography. 13. Photography. 14. Beavers. 15. Making calls. 16. Stamp collecting. 17. The manufacture of tacks. 18. The manufacture of cotton. 19. The smelting of zinc. 20. The silver-plating process. _B._ Make a list of thirty things about which you know something. _C._ Bring to class a list of five subjects in which you are interested. _D._ Make a list of five subjects about which you now possess a sufficient knowledge to enable you to write a paragraph. +Theme XXXI.+--_Write a short theme: Select a suitable subject from the lists in the preceding exercise._ (What method or methods of paragraph development have you used? Have your paragraphs unity of thought?) +57. Subject Adapted to Reader.+--We may be interested in a subject and possess sufficient knowledge to enable us to treat it successfully, but it may still be unsuitable because it is not adapted to the reader. Some knowledge of a subject and some interest in it are quite as necessary on the part of the reader as on that of the writer, though in the beginning this knowledge and interest may be meager. The possibility of developing both knowledge and interest must exist, however, or the writing will be a failure. It would be difficult to make "Imperialism" interesting to third grade pupils, or "Kant's Philosophy" to high school pupils. Even if you know enough to write a valuable "Criticism" of _Silas Marner_, or a real "Review" of the _Vicar of Wakefield_, the work is time wasted if your readers do not have a breadth of knowledge sufficient to insure a vital and appreciative interest in the subject. You must take care to select a subject that is of present, vital interest to your readers. +58. Sources of Subjects.+--Thought goes everywhere, and human interest touches everything. The sources of subjects are therefore unlimited; for anything about which we think and in which we are interested may become a suitable subject for a paragraph, an essay, or a book. Such subjects are everywhere--in what we see and do, in what we think and feel, in what we hear and read. We relate to our parents what a neighbor said; we discuss for the teacher an event in history, or a character in literature; we show a companion how to make a kite or work a problem in algebra; we consider the advantages of a commercial course or relate the pleasures of a day's outing,--in each case we are interested, we think, we express our thoughts, and so are practicing oral composition with _subjects that may be used for written exercises_. +59. Subjects should be Definite.+--Both the writer and the reader are more interested in definite and concrete subjects than in the general and abstract ones, and we shall make our writing more interesting by recognizing this fact. One might write about "Birds," or "The Intelligence of Birds," or "How Birds Protect their Young," or "A Family of Robins." The last is a specific subject, while the other three are general subjects. Of these, the first includes more than the second; and the second, more than the third. A person with sufficient knowledge might write about any one of these general subjects, but it would be difficult to give such a subject adequate treatment in a short theme. Though a general subject may suggest more lines of thought, our knowledge about a specific subject is less vague, and consequently more usable. We really know more about the specific subject, and we have a greater interest in it. The subject, "A Family of Robins," indicates that the writer knows something interesting that he intends to tell. Such a subject compels expectant attention from the reader and aids in arousing an appreciative interest on his part. On first thought, it would seem easier to write about a general subject than about a specific one, but this is not the case. A general subject presents so many lines of thought that the writer is confused, rather than aided, by the abundance of material. A skilled and experienced writer possessing a large fund of information may treat general subjects successfully, but for the beginner safety lies only in selecting definite subjects and in keeping within the limits prescribed. The "Women of Shakespeare" might be an interesting subject for a book by a Shakespearean scholar, but it is scarcely suitable for a high school pupil's theme. +60. Narrowing the Subject.+--It is often necessary to narrow a subject in order to bring it within the range of the knowledge and interest of ourselves and of our readers. A description of the transportation of milk on the electric roads around Toledo would probably be more interesting than an essay on "Freight Transportation by Electricity," or on "Transportation." The purpose that the writer has in mind, and the length of the article he intends to write, will affect the selection of a subject. "Transportation" might be the subject of a book in which a chapter was given to each important subdivision of it; but it would be quite as difficult to treat such a subject in three hundred words as it would be to make use of three hundred pages for "The Transportation of Milk at Toledo." A general subject may suggest many lines of thought. It is the task of the writer to select one about which he knows something or can learn something, in which both he and his readers are interested, or can become interested, and for which the time and space at his disposal are adequate. EXERCISES _A._ Arrange the subjects in each of the following groups so that the most general ones shall come first:-- 1. The intelligence of wild animals. How a fox escaped from the hounds. How animals escape destruction by their enemies. Animals. 2. The benefits that arise from war. The defeat of the Cimbri and Teutons by Marius. War. The value of military strength to the Romans. 3. Pleasure. A summer outing in the Adirondacks. Value of vacations. Catching bass. _B._ Narrow ten of the following subjects until the resulting subject may be treated in a single paragraph:-- 1. Fishing. 2. Engines. 3. Literature. 4. Heroes of fiction. 5. Cooking. 6. Houses. 7. Games. 8. Basketball. 9. Cats. 10. Canaries. 11. Sympathy. 12. Sailboats. 13. Baseball. 14. Rivers. 15. Trees. C. A general subject may suggest several narrower subjects, each of which would be of interest to a different class of persons; for example-- General subject,--Education. Specific subjects,-- 1. Methods of conducting recitations. (Teachers.) 2. School taxes. (Farmers.) 3. Ventilation of school buildings. (Architects.) In a similar way, narrow each of the following subjects so that the resulting subjects will be of interest to two or more classes of persons:-- Subjects Classes 1. Vacations. 1. Farmers. 2. Mathematics. 2. High School Pupils. 3. Picnics. 3. Ministers. 4. Civil service. 4. Merchants. 5. Elections. 5. Sailors. 6. Botany. 6. Girls. 7. Fish. 7. Boys. +Theme XXXII.+--_Write a paragraph about one of narrowed subjects._ (Does your paragraph have unity of thought? What methods of development have you used? Have you selected a subject which will be of interest to your readers?) +61. Selecting a Title.+--The subject and the title may be the same, but not necessarily so. The statement of the subject may require a sentence of considerable length, while a title is best if short. In selecting this brief title, it is well to get one which will attract the attention and arouse the curiosity of a reader without appearing obviously to do so. A peculiar or unusual title is not at all necessary, though if properly selected such a title may be of value. Care must be taken not to have the title make a promise that the theme cannot fulfill. If it does, the effect is unsatisfactory. EXERCISES _A._ Discuss the appropriateness of the titles for the subjects in the following:-- 1. Title: "My Kingdom for a Horse." Subject: An account of a breakdown of an automobile at an inconvenient time. 2. Title: A Blaze of Brilliance. Subject: Description of a coaching parade. 3. Title: A Brave Defense. Subject: An account of how a pair of birds drove a snake away from their nest. 4. Title: The Banquet Book. Subject: Quotations designed for general reference, and also as an aid in the preparation of the toast list, the after-dinner speech, and the occasional address. 5. Title: Dragons of the Air. Subject: An account of extinct flying reptiles. 6. Title: Rugs and Rags. Subject: A comparison of the rich and the poor, from a socialistic point of view. 7. Title: Lives of the Hunted. Subject: A true account of the doings of five quadrupeds and three birds. 8. Title: The Children of the Nations. Subject: A discussion of colonies and the problems of colonization. _B._ Supply an appropriate title for a story read by the teacher. _C._ Suggest a title, other than the one given it, for each magazine article you have read this month. +62. Language Adapted to the Reader.+--A writer may select a subject with reference to the knowledge and interest of his readers; he may develop his paragraphs in accordance with the methods studied in Chapter III, and yet he may fail to make his meaning clear, because he has not used language suited to the reader. Fortunately, the language that we understand and use is that which is most easily understood by those of equal attainments with ourselves. It therefore happens that when writing for those of our own age and attainments, or for those of higher attainments, we usually best express for them that which we make most clear and pleasing to ourselves. But if we write for younger people, or for those of different interests in life, we must give much attention to adapting what we write to our readers. Before writing it is well to ask, For whom am I writing? Then, if necessary, you should modify your language so that it will be adapted to your readers. Can you tell for what kind of an audience each of the following is intended? In the field both teams played faultless ball, not the semblance of an error being made. Besides backing up their pitchers in this fashion, both local and visiting athletes turned sensational plays. The element of luck figured largely in the result. In the first inning Dougherty walked and Collins singled. Dougherty had third base sure on the drive, but stumbled and fell down between second and third, and he was an easy out. Boston got its only run in the second. Parent sent the ball to extreme left for two bases. He stole third nattily when catcher Sugden tried to catch him napping at the middle station. Ferris scored him with a drive to left. St. Louis promptly tied the score in its half. Wallace opened with a screeching triple to the bulletin board. At that he would not have scored if J. Stahl had not contributed a passed ball, Heidrick, Friel, and Sugden, the next three batters, expiring on weak infield taps. The Browns got the winning run in the sixth on Martin's triple and Hill's swift cut back of first. Lachance knocked the ball down and got his man at the initial sack, but could not prevent the tally. --_Boston Herald._ His name was Riley, and although his parents had called him Thomas, to the boys he had always been "Dennis," and by the time he had reached his senior year in college he was quite ready to admit that his "name was Dennis," with all that slang implied. He had tried for several things, athletics particularly, and had been substitute on the ball nine, one of the immortal second eleven backs of the football squad, and at one time had been looked upon as promising material for a mile runner on the track team. But it was always his luck not quite to make anything. He couldn't bat up to 'varsity standard, he wasn't quite heavy enough for a Varsity back, and in the mile run he always came in fresh enough but could not seem to get his speed up so as to run himself out, and the result was that, although he finished strong and with lots of running in him, the other fellows always reached the tape first, even though just barely getting over and thoroughly exhausted. Now "Dennis" had made up his mind at Christmas time that he actually would have one more trial on the track, and that his family, consisting of his mother and a younger brother, both of them great believers in and very proud of Thomas, should yet see him possessed of a long-coveted "Y." So he went out with the first candidates in the spring, and the addition of the two-mile event to the programme of track contests gave him a distance better suited to his endurance. There were a half-dozen other men running in his squad, and Dennis, from his former failures, was not looked upon with much favor, or as a very likely man. But he kept at it. When the first reduction of the squad was made, some one said, "Denny's kept on just to pound the track." With the middle of March came some class games, and Dennis was among the "also rans," getting no better than fourth place in the two-mile. The worst of it was that he knew he could have run it faster, for he felt strong at the finish, but had no burst of speed when the others went up on the last lap. But in April he did better, and it soon developed that he was improving. The week before the Yale-Harvard games he was notified that he was to run in the two-mile as pace maker to Lang and Early, the two best distance men on the squad. Nobody believed that Yale would win this event, although it was understood that Lang stood a fair chance if Dennis and Early could carry the Harvard crack, Richards, along at a fast gait for the first mile. So it was all arranged that Early should set the pace for the first half mile, and Dennis should then go up and carry the field along for a fast second half. Then, after the first mile was over, Early and Dennis should go out as fast as they could, and stay as long as they could in the attempt to force the Harvard man and exhaust him so that Lang could come up, and, having run the race more to his liking, be strong enough to finish first. The day of the games came, and with it a drenching rain, making the track heavy and everybody uncomfortable. But as the inter-collegiates were the next week, it was almost impossible to postpone the games, and consequently it was decided to run them off. As the contest progressed, it developed that the issue would hang on the two-mile event, and interest grew intense. When the call for starters came, Dennis felt the usual trepidation of a man who is before the public for the first time in a really important position. But the feeling did not last long, and by the time he went to his mark he had made up his mind that that Harvard runner should go the mile and a half fast at any rate, or else be a long way behind. At the crack of the pistol the six men went off, and, according to orders, during the first mile Early and Dennis set the pace well up. Richards, the Harvard man, let them open up a gap on him in the first half-mile, and, being more or less bothered by the conditions of the wet track, he seemed uncertain whether the Yale runners were setting the pace too high or not, and in the second half commenced to move up. In doing this his team mates gradually fell back until they were out of it, and the order was Dennis, Early, Richards, and Lang. At the beginning of the second mile, Early, whose duty it was to have gone up and helped Dennis make the pace at the third half-mile, had manifestly had enough of it, and, after two or three desperate struggles to keep up, was passed by Richards. When, therefore, they came to the mile and a half, Dennis was leading Richards by some fifteen yards, and those who knew the game expected to see the Harvard man try to overtake Dennis, and in so doing exhaust himself, so that Lang, who was running easily in the rear, could come up and in the last quarter finish out strong. Dennis, too, was expecting to hear the Harvard man come up with him pretty soon, and knew that this would be the signal for him to make his dying effort in behalf of his comrade, Lang. As they straightened out into the back stretch Richards did quicken up somewhat, and Dennis let himself out. In fact, he did this so well that as they entered upon the last quarter Richards had not decreased the distance, and indeed it had opened up a little wider. But where was Lang? Dennis was beginning to expect one or the other of these two men to come up, and, as he turned into the back stretch for the last time, it began to dawn upon him, as it was dawning upon the crowd, that the pace had been too hot for Lang, and, moreover, that Yale's chance depended on the despised Dennis, and that the Harvard runner was finding it a big contract to overhaul the sturdy pounder on the wet track. But Richards was game, and commenced to cut the gap down. As they turned into the straight, he was within eight yards of Dennis. But Dennis knew it, and he ran as he had never run before. He could fairly feel the springing tread of Richards behind him, and knew it was coming nearer every second. But into the straight they came, and the crowd sprang to its feet with wild yells for Dennis. Twenty yards from home Richards, who had picked up all but two yards of the lead, began to stagger and waver, while Dennis hung to it true and steady, and breasted the tape three yards in advance, winning his "Y" at last! --Walter Camp: _Winning a "Y"_ ("Outlook") In which of the preceding accounts were you more interested? Which made the more vivid impression? Which would be better suited for a school class composed of boys and girls? Which for a newspaper report? In attempting to relate a contest it is essential that the writer know what really happened, and in what order it happened, but his successful presentation will depend to some extent upon the consideration given to adapting the story to the audience. A person thoroughly conversant with the game will understand the technical terms, and may prefer the first account to the second, but those to whom the game is not familiar would need to have so much explanation of the terms used that the narration would become tedious to those already familiar with the terms. In order to make an account of a game interesting to persons unfamiliar with that game, we must introduce enough of explanation to make clear the meaning of the terms we use. +Theme XXXIII.+--_Write a theme telling some one who does not understand the game about some contest which you have seen_. Suggested subjects:-- 1. A basket ball game. 2. A football game. 3. A tennis match. 4. A baseball game. 5. A croquet match. 6. A golf tournament. 7. A yacht race. 8. A relay race. (Have you introduced technical terms without making the necessary explanations? Have you explained so many terms that your narrative is rendered tedious? Have you related what really happened, and in the proper time order? Have your paragraphs unity? Can you shorten the theme without affecting the clearness or interest? Does _then_ occur too frequently?) +Theme XXXIV.+--_Write a theme, using the same subject that you used for Theme XXXIII. Assume that the reader understands the game._ (Will the reader get the whole contest clearly in mind? Can you shorten the account? Compare this theme with Theme XXXIII.) +63. Explanation of Terms.+--Any word that alone or with its modifiers calls to mind a single idea, is a term. When applied to a particular object, quality, or action, it is a specific term; but when applied to any one of a class of objects, qualities, or actions, it is a general term. For example: _The Lake_, referring to a lake near at hand, is a specific term; but _a lake_, referring to any lake, is a general term. In Theme XXXIII you had occasion to explain some of the terms used. If, in telling about a baseball game, you mentioned a particular "fly," your statement was description or narration; but if some one should ask what you meant by "a fly," your answer would be general in character; that is, it would apply to all "flies," and would belong to that division of composition called exposition. Exposition is but another name for explanation. It is always concerned with that which is general, while description and narration deal with particular cases. We may describe a particular lake; but if we answer the question, What is a lake? the answer would apply to any lake, and would be exposition. Explanation of the meaning of general terms is one form of exposition. +64. Definition by Synonyms.+--If we are asked to explain the meaning of a general term, our reply in many cases will be a brief definition. Often it is sufficient to give a synonym. For example, in answer to the question, What is exposition? we make its meaning clearer by saying, Exposition is explanation. Definition by synonym is frequently used because of its brevity. In the smaller dictionaries the definitions are largely of this kind. For example: to desert, _to abandon_; despot, _tyrant_; contemptible, _mean or vile_; to fuse, _to blend_; inviolable, _sacred_. Synonyms are, however, seldom exact, but a fair understanding of a term may be gained by comparing it with its synonyms and discussing the different shades of meaning. Such a discussion, especially if supplemented by examples showing the correct use of each term, is a profitable exercise in exposition. For example:-- Both _discovery_ and _invention_ denote generally something new that is found out in the arts and sciences. But the term _discovery_ involves in the thing discovered not merely novelty, but curiosity, utility, difficulty, and consequently some degree of importance. All this is less strongly involved in invention. But there are yet wider differences. One can only discover what has in its integrity existed before the discovery, while invention brings a thing into existence. America was discovered. Printing was invented. Fresh discoveries in science often lead to new inventions in the industrial arts. Indeed, discovery belongs more to science; invention, to art. Invention increases the store of our practical resources, and is the fruit of search. Discovery extends the sphere of our knowledge, and has often been made by accident. --Smith: _Synonyms Discriminated_. If exactness is desired, this is obtained by means of the logical definition, which will be discussed in a later chapter. +Theme XXXV.+--Explain the meaning of the words in one of the following groups:_-- 1. Caustic, satirical, biting. 2. Imply, signify, involve. 3. Martial, warlike, military, soldierlike. 4. Wander, deviate, err, stray, swerve, diverge. 5. Abate, decrease, diminish, lessen, moderate. 6. Emancipation, freedom, independence, liberty. 7. Old, ancient, antique, antiquated, obsolete. 8. Adorn, beautify, bedeck, decorate, ornament, 9. Active, alert, brisk, lively, spry. +65. Use of Simpler Words.+--In defining terms by giving a synonym we must be careful to choose a synonym which will be most likely to be understood by our listeners, or our explanation will be of no avail. For instance, in explaining the term _abate_ to a child, if we say it means _to diminish_, and he is unfamiliar with that word, he is made none the wiser by our explanation. If we tell him that it means _to grow less_, he will, in all probability, understand our explanation. Very many words in our language have equivalents that may be substituted, the one for the other. Much of our explanation to children and to those whose attainments are less than our own consists in substituting common, everyday words for less familiar ones. EXERCISE Give familiar equivalents for the following words:-- 1. emancipate. 2. procure. 3. opportunity. 4. peruse. 5. elapsed. 6. approximately. 7. abbreviate. 8. constitute. 9. simultaneous. 10. familiar. 11. deceased. 12. oral. 13. adhere. 14. edifice. 15. collide. 16. suburban. 17. repugnance. 18. grotesque. 19. equipage. 20. exaggerate. 21. ascend. 22. financial. 23. nocturnal. 24. maternal. 25. vision. 26. affinity. 27. cohere. 28. athwart. 29. clavicle. 30. omnipotent. 31. enumerate. 32. eradicate. 33. application. 34. constitute. 35. employer. 36. rendezvous. 37. obscure. 38. indicate. 39. prevaricate. +66. Definitions Need to be Supplemented.+--The purpose of exposition is to make clear to others that which we understand ourselves. If the mere statement of a definition does not accomplish this result, we may often make our meaning clear by supplementing the definition with suitable comparisons and examples. In making use of comparisons and examples we must choose those with which our readers are familiar, and we must be sure that they fairly represent the term that we wish to illustrate. +Theme XXXVI.+--_Explain any one of the following terms. Begin with as exact a definition as you can frame._ 1. A "fly" in baseball. 2. A "foul" in basket ball. 3. A "sneak." 4. A hero. 5. A "spitfire." 6. A laborer. 7. A capitalist. 8. A coward. 9. A freshman. 10. A "header." (Is your definition exact, or only approximately so? How have you made its meaning clear? Can you think of a better comparison or a better example? Can your meaning be made clearer, or be more effectively presented, by arranging your material in a different order?) +67. General Description.+--We may often make clear the meaning of a term by giving details. In describing a New England village we might enumerate the streets, the houses, the town pump, the church, and other features. This would be specific description if the purpose was to have the reader picture some particular village; but if the purpose was to give the reader a clear conception of the general characteristics of all New England villages, the paragraph would become a general description. Such a general description would include all the characteristics common to all the members of the class under discussion, but would omit any characteristic peculiar to some of them. For example, a general description of a windmill includes the things common to all windmills. If an object is described more for the purpose of giving a clear conception of the class of which it is a type than for the purpose of picturing the object described, we have a general description. Such a description is in effect an enlarged definition, and is exposition rather than description. It is sometimes called scientific description because it is so commonly employed by writers of scientific books. Notice the following examples of general description:-- 1. Around every house in Broeck are buckets, benches, rakes, hoes, and stakes, all colored red, blue, white, or yellow. The brilliancy and variety of colors and the cleanliness, brightness, and miniature pomp of the place are wonderful. At the windows there are embroidered curtains with rose-colored ribbons. The blades, bands, and nails of the gayly painted windmills shine like silver. The houses are brightly varnished and surrounded with red and white railings and fences. The panes of glass in the windows are bordered by many lines of different hues. The trunks of all the trees are painted gray from root to branch. Across the streams are many little wooden bridges, each painted as white as snow. The gutters are ornamented with a sort of wooden festoon perforated like lace. The pointed facades are surmounted with a small weathercock, a little lance, or something resembling a bunch of flowers. Nearly every house has two doors, one in front and one behind, the last for everyday entrance and exit, the former opened only on great occasions, such as births, deaths, and marriages. The gardens are as peculiar as the houses. The paths are hardly wide enough to walk in. One could put his arms around the flower beds. The dainty arbors would barely hold two persons sitting close together. The little myrtle hedges would scarcely reach to the knees of a four-year-old child. 2. Ginseng has a thick, soft, whitish, bulbous root, from one to three inches long,--generally two or three roots to a stalk,--with wrinkles running around it, and a few small fibers attached. It has a peculiar, pleasant, sweetish, slightly bitter, and aromatic taste. The stem or stalk grows about a foot high, is smooth, round, of a reddish green color, divided at the top into three short branches, with three to five leaves to each branch, and a flower stem in the center of the branches. The flower is small and white, followed by a large, red berry. It is found growing in most of the states in rich, shady soils. 3. As a general proposition, the Scottish hotel is kept by a benevolent-looking old lady, who knows absolutely nothing about the trains, nothing about the town, nothing about anything outside of the hotel, and is non-committal regarding matters even within her jurisdiction. Upon arrival you do not register, but stand up at the desk and submit to a cross-examination, much as if you were being sentenced in an American police court. Your hostess always wants twelve hours' notice of your departure, so that she can make out your bill--a very arduous, formidable undertaking. The bill is of prodigious dimensions, about the size of a sheet of foolscap paper, lined and cross-lined for a multitude of entries. When the account finally reaches you, it closely resembles a design for a cobweb factory. Any attempt to decipher the various hieroglyphics is useless--it can't be done. The only thing that can be done is to read the total at the foot of the page and pay it. --_Hotels in Scotland_ ("Kansas City Star"). +Theme XXXVII.+--_Write a general description of one of the following:_-- 1. A bicycle. 2. A country hay barn. 3. A dog. 4. A summer cottage. 5. An Indian wigwam. 6. A Dutch windmill. 7. A muskrat's house. 8. A robin's nest. 9. A blacksmith's shop. 10. A chipmunk. 11. A threshing machine. 12. A sewing circle. (The purpose is not to picture a particular object, but to give a general notion of a class of objects. Cross out everything in your theme that applies only to some particular object. Have you included enough to make your meaning clear?) +Theme XXXVIII.+--_Using the same title as for Theme XXXVII, write a specific description of some particular object._ (How does it differ from the general description? What elements have you introduced which you did not have in the other? Which sentence gives the general outline? Are your details arranged with regard to their proper position in space? Will the reader form a vivid picture--just the one you mean him to have?) +68. General Narration.+--Explanations of a process of manufacture, methods of playing a game, and the like, often take the form of generalized narration. Just as we gain a notion of the appearance of a sod house from a general description, so may we gain a notion of a series of events from a general narration. Such a narration will not tell what some one actually did, but will relate the things that are characteristic of the process or action under discussion whenever it happens. Such general narration is really exposition. EXERCISES _A._ Notice that the selection below is a generalized narration, showing what a hare does when hunted. In it no incident peculiar to some special occasion is introduced. She [the hare] generally returns to the beat from which she was put up, running, as all the worlds knows, in a circle, or sometimes something like it, we had better say, that we may keep on good terms with the mathematical. At starting, she tears away at her utmost speed for a mile or more, and distances the dogs halfway; she then turns, diverging a little to the right or left, that she may not run into the mouths of her enemies--a necessity which accounts for what we call the circularity of her course. Her flight from home is direct and precipitate; but on her way back, when she has gained a little time for consideration and stratagem, she describes a curious labyrinth of short turnings and windings as if to perplex the dogs by the intricacy of her track. --Richard Atton. _B_. The selection below narrates an actual hunt. Notice in what respects it differs from the preceding selection. Sir Roger is so keen at this sport that he has been out almost every day since I came down; and upon the chaplain's offering to lend me his easy pad, I was prevailed on yesterday morning to make one of the company. I was extremely pleased, as we rid along, to observe the general benevolence of all the neighborhood towards my friend. The farmers' sons thought themselves happy if they could open a gate for the good old knight as he passed by; which he generally requited with a nod or a smile, and a kind inquiry after their fathers and uncles. After we had rid about a mile from home, we came upon a large heath, and the sportsmen began to beat. They had done so for some time, when, as I was at a little distance from the rest of the company, I saw a hare pop out from a small furze brake almost under my horse's feet. I marked the way she took, which I endeavored to make the company sensible of by extending my arm; but to no purpose, till Sir Roger, who knows that none of my extraordinary motions are insignificant, rode up to me and asked me if puss was gone that way? Upon my answering "Yes," he immediately called in the dogs, and put them upon the scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the country fellows muttering to his companion, that 'twas a wonder they had not lost all their sport, for want of the silent gentleman's crying, "Stole away." This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me withdraw to a rising ground, from whence I could have the pleasure of the whole chase, without the fatigue of keeping in with the hounds. The hare immediately threw them above a mile behind her; but I was pleased to find, that instead of running straight forwards, or, in hunter's language, "flying the country," as I was afraid she might have done, she wheeled about, and described a sort of circle round the hill, where I had taken my station, in such manner as gave me a very distinct view of the sport. I could see her first pass by, and the dogs some time afterwards, unraveling the whole track she had made, and following her through all her doubles. I was at the same time delighted in observing that deference which the rest of the pack paid to each particular hound, according to the character he had acquired among them: if they were at a fault, and an old hound of reputation opened but once, he was immediately followed by the whole cry; while a raw dog, or one who was a noted liar, might have yelped his heart out without being taken notice of. The hare now, after having squatted two or three times, and been put up again as often, came still nearer to the place where she was at first started. The dogs pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly knight, who rode upon a white gelding, encompassed by his tenants and servants, and cheering his hounds with all the gayety of five and twenty. One of the sportsmen rode up to me, and told me that he was sure the chase was almost at an end, because the old dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed the pack. The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a large field just under us, followed by the full cry in view. I must confess the brightness of the weather, the cheerfulness of everything around me, the chiding of the hounds, which was returned upon us in a double echo from two neighboring hills, with the hallooing of the sportsmen, and the sounding of the horn, lifted my spirits into a most lively pleasure, which I freely indulged because I was sure it was innocent. If I was under any concern, it was on account of the poor hare, that was now quite spent, and almost within the reach of her enemies; when the huntsman getting forward, threw down his pole before the dogs. They were now within eight yards of that game which they had been pursuing for almost as many hours; yet on the signal before mentioned they all made a sudden stand, and though they continued opening as much as before, durst not once attempt to pass beyond the pole. At the same time Sir Roger rode forward, and alighting, took up the hare in his arms; which he soon after delivered up to one of his servants with an order, if she could be kept alive, to let her go in his great orchard; where it seems he has several of these prisoners of war, who live together in a very comfortable captivity. I was highly pleased to see the discipline of the pack, and the good nature of the knight, who could not find in his heart to murder a creature that had given him so much diversion. --Budgell: _Sir Roger de Coverley Papers_. +Theme XXXIX.+--_Explain one of the following by the use of general narration:_-- 1. Baking bread. 2. How paper is made. 3. How to play tennis (or some other game). 4. Catching trout. 5. Life at school. 6. How to pitch curves. (Have you arranged your details with reference to their proper time-order? Have you introduced unnecessary details? Have your paragraphs unity? Underscore _then_ each time you have used it.) +69. Argument.+--Especially in argument is it evident that language presupposes an audience. The fact that we argue implies that some one does not agree with us. The purpose of our argument is to convince some one else of the truth of a proposition which we ourselves believe, and he who wishes to succeed in this must give careful attention to his audience. The question which must always be in the mind of the writer is, What facts shall I select and in what order shall I present them in order to convince my reader? The various ways of arguing are more fully treated in a later chapter, but a few of them are given here. +70. The Use of Explanation in Argument.+--In preparing an argument we must consider first the amount of explanation that it will be necessary to make. We cannot expect one to believe a proposition the meaning of which he does not understand. Often the explanation alone is sufficient to convince the hearer. Suppose you are trying to gain your parents' consent to take some course of study. They ask for an explanation of the different courses, and when they know what each contains they are already convinced as to which is best for you. If you are trying to convince a member of your school board that it would be well to introduce domestic science into the high school, and he already understands what is meant by the term "domestic science," you not only waste time in explaining it, but you make him appear ignorant of what he already understands. With him you should proceed at once to give your reasons for the advisability of the introduction of this branch into your school. On the other hand, if you are talking with a member who does not understand the term, an explanation will be the first thing necessary. It is evident, therefore, that the amount of explanation that we shall make depends upon the previous knowledge of the audience addressed. If we explain too much, we prejudice our case; and if we explain too little, the reader may fail to appreciate the arguments that follow. The point of the whole matter, then, is that explanation is the first step in argument, and that in order to determine the amount necessary we must consider carefully the audience for which our argument is intended. +71. Statement of Advantages and Disadvantages.+ An argument is often concerned with determining whether it is expedient to do one thing or another. Such an argument frequently takes the form of a statement of the advantages that will follow the adoption of the course we recommend, or of the disadvantages that the following of the opposite course will cause. If a corporation should ask for a franchise for a street railway, the city officials might hold the opinion that a double track should be laid. In support of this opinion they would name the advantageous results that would follow from the use of a double track, such as the avoidance of delays on turnouts, the lessening of the liability of accidents, the greater rapidity in transportation, etc. On the other hand, the persons seeking the franchise might reply that a double track would occupy too much of the street and become a hindrance to teams, or that the advantages were not sufficient to warrant the extra expense. Concerning such a question there can be no absolute decision. We are not discussing what is right, but what is expedient, and the determination of what is expedient is based upon a consideration of advantages or disadvantages. In deciding, we must balance the advantages against the disadvantages and determine which has the greater weight. If called upon to take one side or the other, we must consider carefully the value of the facts counting both for and against the proposition before we can make up our mind which side we favor. You must bear in mind that a thing may not be an advantage because you believe it to be. That which seems to you to be the reason why you should take some high school subject, may seem to your father or your teacher to be the very reason why you should not. In writing arguments of this kind you must take care to select facts that will appeal to your readers as advantages. Notice the following editorial which appeared in the _Boston Latin School Register_ shortly after a change was made whereby the pupils instead of the teachers moved from room to room for their various recitations:-- The new system of having the classes move about from room to room to their recitations has been in use for nearly a month, and there has been sufficient opportunity for testing its practicability and its advantages. There is no doubt that the new system alters the old form of recesses, shortening the two regular ones, but giving three minutes between recitations as a compensation for this loss. Although theoretically we have more recess time than formerly, in the practical working out of the system we find that the three minutes between recitations is occupied in gathering up one's books, and reaching the next recitation room; besides this, that there is often some confusion in reaching the various classrooms, and that there are many little inconveniences which would not occur were we sitting at our own desks. On the other hand, as an offset to these disadvantages, there is the advantage of a change of position, and a respite from close attention, with a breathing spell in which to get the mind as well as the books ready for another lesson. The masters have in every recitation their own maps and reference books, with which they can often make their instruction much more forceful and interesting. Besides that, they have entire control of their own blackboards, and can leave work there without fear of its being erased to make room for that of some other master. The confusion will doubtless be lessened as time goes on and we become more used to the system. Even the first disadvantage is more or less offset by the fact that the short three-minute periods, although they cannot be used like ordinary recesses, yet serve to give us breathing space between recitations and to lessen the strain of continuous application; so that, on the whole, the advantages seem to counterbalance the disadvantages. EXERCISES What advantages and disadvantages can you think of for each of the following propositions? State them orally. 1. All telephone and telegraph wires in cities should be put under ground. 2. The speed of bicycles and automobiles should be limited to eight miles per hour. 3. High school football teams should not play match games on regular school days. 4. High school pupils should not attend evening parties excepting on Fridays and Saturdays. 5. Monday would be a better day than Saturday for a school holiday. 6. The school session should be lengthened. +Theme XL.+--_Write two paragraphs, one of which shall give the advantages and the other the disadvantages that would arise from the adoption of any one of the following:_ 1. This school should have a longer recess. 2. This school should have two hours for the noon recess. 3. This school should be in session from eight o'clock until one o'clock. 4. All the pupils in this school should be seated in one room. 5. The public library should be in the high school building. 6. The football team should be excused early in order to practice. 7. This school should have a greater number of public entertainments. +72. Explanation and Argument by Specific Instances.+--Often we may make the meaning of a general proposition clear by citing specific instances. If these instances are given for the purpose of explanation merely, the paragraph is exposition. If, however, the aim is not merely to cause the reader to understand the proposition, but also to believe that it is true, we have argument. In either case we have a paragraph developed by specific instances as discussed in Section 44. Notice how in the following paragraph the author brings forward specific cases in order to prove the proposition:-- Nearly everything that an animal does is the result of an inborn instinct acted upon by an outward stimulus. The margin wherein intelligent choice plays a part is very small.... Instinct is undoubtedly often modified by intelligence, and intelligence is as often guided or prompted by instinct, but one need not hesitate long as to which side of the line any given act of man or beast belongs. When the fox resorts to various tricks to outwit and delay the hound (if he ever consciously does so), he exercises a kind of intelligence--the lower form of which we call cunning--and he is prompted to this by an instinct of self-preservation. When the birds set up a hue and cry about a hawk, or an owl, or boldly attack him, they show intelligence in its simpler form, the intelligence that recognizes its enemies, prompted again by the instinct of self-preservation. When a hawk does not know a man on horseback from a horse, it shows a want of intelligence. When a crow is kept away from a corn-field by a string stretched around it, the fact shows how masterful is its fear and how shallow its wit. When a cat or a dog or a horse or a cow learns to open a gate or a door, it shows a degree of intelligence--power to imitate, to profit by experience. A machine could not learn to do it. If the animal were to close the door or gate behind it, that would be another step in intelligence. But its direct wants have no relation to the closing of the door, only to the opening of it. To close the door involves an afterthought that an animal is not capable of. A horse will hesitate to go upon thin ice or frail bridges. This, no doubt, is an inherited instinct which has arisen in its ancestors from their fund of general experience with the world. How much with them has depended upon a secure footing! A pair of house-wrens had a nest in my well-curb; when the young were partly grown and heard any one enter the curb, they would set up a clamorous calling for food. When I scratched against the sides of the curb beneath them like some animal trying to climb up, their voices instantly hushed; the instinct of fear promptly overcame the instinct of hunger! Instinct is intelligence, but it is not the same as acquired individual intelligence; it is untaught. John Burroughs: _Some Natural History Doubts_ ("Harper's"). EXERCISES What facts or instances do you know which would lead you to believe either the following propositions or their opposites? 1. Dogs are intelligent. 2. Only excellent pupils can pass the seventh grade examination. 3. Some teachers do not ask fair questions on examination. 4. Oak trees grow to be larger than maples. 5. Strikes increase the cost to the consumer. 6. A college education pays. 7. Department stores injure the trade of smaller stores. 8. Advertising pays. +Theme XLI.+--_Write a paragraph, proving by one or more examples one of the propositions in the preceding exercise:_ (Do your examples really illustrate what you are trying to prove? Do they show that the proposition is always true or merely that it is true for certain cases? Would your argument cause another to believe the proposition?) +73. The Value of Debate.+--Participation in oral debate furnishes excellent practice in accurate and rapid thinking. We may choose one side of a question and may write out an argument which, considered alone, and from our point of view, seems convincing, but when this is submitted to the criticism of some one of opposite views, or when the arguments in favor of the other side of the question are brought forward, we are not so sure that we have chosen the side which represents the truth. The ability to think "on one's feet," to present arguments concisely and effectively, and to reply to opposing arguments, giving due weight to those that are true, and detecting and pointing out those that are false, is an accomplishment of great practical value. Such ability comes only from practice, and the best preparation for it is the careful writing out of arguments. +74. Statement of the Question.+--The subject of debate may be stated in the form of a resolution, a declarative sentence, or a question; as, "Resolved that the recess should be lengthened," or "The recess should be lengthened," or, "Should the recess be lengthened?" In any case, the affirmative must show why the recess should be lengthened, and the negative why it should not be lengthened. In a formal debate the statement of the question and its meaning should be definitely determined in advance. Care must be taken to state it so that no mere quibbling over the meanings of terms can take the place of real arguments. Even if the subject of debate is so stated that this is possible, any self-respecting debater will meet the question at issue fairly and squarely, preferring defeat to a victory won by juggling with the meanings of terms. +75. Is Belief Necessary in Debate?+--If we are really arguing for a purpose, we should believe in the truth of the proposition which we support. If the members of the school board were discussing the desirability of building a new schoolhouse, each would speak in accordance with his belief. But if a class in school should debate such a question, having in mind not the determination of the question, but merely the selection and arrangement of the arguments for and against the proposition in the most effective way, each pupil might present the side in which he did not really believe. EXERCISES Consider each of the following propositions. Do you believe the affirmative or the negative? 1. This city needs a new high school building. 2. All the pupils in the high school should be members of the athletic association. 3. The school board should purchase an inclosed athletic field. 4. The street railway should carry pupils to and from school for half fare. 5. There should be a lunch room in this school. 6. Fairy stories should not be told to children. +Theme XLII.+--_Write a paragraph telling why you believe one of the propositions in the preceding exercise:_ (What questions should you ask yourself while correcting your theme?) +76. Order of Presentation.+--If you were preparing to debate one of the propositions in the preceding exercise, you would need to have in mind both the reasons for and against it. Next you would consider the order in which these reasons should be discussed. This will be determined by the circumstances of each debate, but generally the emphatic positions, that is, the first and the last, will be given to those arguments that seem to you to have the greatest weight, while those of less importance will occupy the central portion of your theme. +77. The Brief.+--If, after making a note of the various advantages, examples, and other arguments that you wish to use in support of one of the propositions in Section 75, you arrange these in the order in which you think they can be most effectively presented, the outline so formed is called a brief. Its preparation requires clear thinking, but when it is made, the task of writing out the argument is not difficult. When the debate is to be spoken, not read, the brief, if kept in mind, will serve to suggest the arguments we wish to make in the order in which we wish to present them. The brief differs from the ordinary outline in that it is composed of complete sentences. Notice the following brief:-- Manual Training should be substituted for school athletics. _Affirmative_ 1. The exercise furnished by manual training is better adapted to the developing of the whole being both physical and mental; for-- _a._ It requires the mind to act in order to determine what to do and how to do it. _b._ It trains the muscles to carry out the ideal of the mind. 2. The effect of manual training on health is better; for-- _a._ Excessive exercise, harmful to growing children, is avoided. _b._ Dangerous contests are avoided. 3. The final results of manual training are more valuable; for-- _a._ The objects made are valuable. _b._ The skill of hand and eye may become of great practical value in after life. 4. The moral effect of manual training is better; for-- _a._ Athletics develops the "anything to win" spirit, while manual training creates a wholesome desire to excel in the creation of something useful or beautiful. _b._ Dishonesty in games may escape notice, but dishonesty in workmanship cannot be concealed. _c._ Athletics fosters slovenliness of dress and manners, while manual training cultivates the love of the beautiful. 5. The beneficial results of manual training have a wider effect upon the school; for-- _a._ But comparatively few pupils "make the team" and receive the maximum athletic drill, while all pupils can take manual training. +78. Refutation or Indirect Argument.+--In debate we need to consider not only the arguments in favor of our own side, but also those presented by our opponents. That part of our theme which states our own arguments is called direct argument, and that part in which we reply to our opponents is called indirect argument or refutation. It is often very important to show that the opposing argument is false or, if true, has been given an exaggerated importance that it does not really possess. If, however, the argument is true and of weight, the fact should be frankly acknowledged. Our desire for victory should not cause us to disregard the truth. If the argument of our opponent has been so strong that it seems to have taken possession of the audience, we must reply to it in the beginning. If it is of less weight, each separate point may be discussed as we take up related points in our own argument. Often it will be found best to give the refutation a place just preceding our own last and strongest argument. From the foregoing it will be seen that each case cannot be determined by rule, but must be determined for itself, and it is because of the exercise of judgment required, that practice in debating is so valuable. A dozen boys or girls may, with much pleasure and profit, spend an evening a week as a debating club. +Theme XLIII.+--_Prepare a written argument for or against one of the propositions in Section 75._ (Make a brief. Re-arrange the arguments that you intend to use until they have what seems to you the best order. Consider the probable arguments on the other side and what reply can be made. Answer one or two of the strongest ones. If you have any trivial arguments for your own side, either omit them or make their discussion very brief.) +79. Cautions in Debating.+--When we have made a further study of argument we shall need to consider again the subject of debating. In the meantime a few cautions will be helpful. 1. Be fair. A debate is in the nature of a contest, and is quite as interesting as any other contest. The desire to win should never lead you to take any unfair advantage or to descend to mere quibbling over the statement of the proposition or the meanings of the terms. Win fairly or not at all. 2. Be honest with yourself. Do not present arguments which you know to be false, in the hope that your opponent cannot prove their falsity. This does not mean that you cannot present arguments in favor of a proposition unless you believe it to be true, but that those you do present should be real arguments for the side that you uphold, even though you believe that there are weightier ones on the other side. Do not use an example that seems to apply if you know that it does not. You are to "tell the truth and nothing but the truth," but in debate you may tell only that part of the "whole truth" which favors your side of the proposition. 3. Do not allow your desire for victory to overcome your desire for truth. Do not argue for the sake of winning, nor develop the habit of arguing in season and out. In the school and outside there are persons who, like Will Carleton's Uncle Sammy, "were born for arguing." They use their own time in an unprofitable way, and what is worse, they waste the time of others. They are not seeking for truth, but for controversy. It is quite as bad to doubt everything you hear as it is to believe everything. 4. Remember that mere statement is not argument. The fact that you believe a proposition does not make it true. In order to carry weight, a statement must be based on principles and theories that _the audience_ believes. 5. Remember that exhortation is not argument. Entreaty may persuade one to action, but in debate you should aim to convince the intellect. Clear, accurate thinking on your own part, so that you may present sound, logical arguments, is the first essential. +Theme XLIV.+--_Prepare a written argument for or against one of the following propositions:_-- 1. Boys who cannot go to college should take a commercial course in the high school. 2. Novel reading is a waste of time. 3. Asphalt paving is more satisfactory than brick. 4. Foreign skilled labor should be kept out of the United States. 5. Our own town should be lighted by electricity. 6. Athletic contests between high schools should be prohibited. (Consider your argument with reference to the cautions given in Section 79.) SUMMARY 1. The purpose of discourse may be to inform or to entertain. 2. The forms of discourse are-- _a._ Description. _b._ Narration. _c._ Exposition. _d._ Argument (Persuasion). 3. Discourse presupposes an audience, and we must select a subject and use language adapted to that audience. 4. The suitableness of a subject is determined-- _a._ By the writer's knowledge of the subject. (1) This may be based on experience, or (2) It may be gained from others through conversation and reading. _b._ By the writer's interest in the subject. (1) This may exist from the first, or (2) It may be aroused by our search for information. _c._ By adaptability of the subject to the reader. It should be of present, vital interest to him. 5. Subjects. _a._ The sources of subjects are unlimited. _b._ Subjects should be definite. They often need to be narrowed in order to be made definite. _c._ The title should be brief and should be worded so as to arouse a desire to hear the theme. 6. Exposition is explanation. 7. We may make clear the meaning of a term-- _a._ By using synonyms. _b._ By using simpler words. _c._ By supplementing our definitions with examples or comparisons. 8. General description includes the characteristics common to all members of a class of objects. 9. General narration is one form of exposition. It relates the things that characterize a process or action whenever it occurs. 10. Argument. _a._ Explanation is the first step in argument. _b._ A statement of advantages and disadvantages may assist us to determine which side of a question we believe. _c._ Specific instances may be used either for explanation or argument. 11. Debate. _a._ The subject of the debate may be stated in the form of a resolution, a declarative sentence, or a question. _b._ The most important arguments should be given the first and last positions. _c._ A brief will assist us in arranging our arguments in the most effective order. _d._ The refutation of opposing arguments should usually be placed just before our own last and strongest argument. _e._ Cautions in debating. (1) Be fair. (2) Be honest with yourself. (3) Do not allow your desire for victory to overcome your desire for truth. (4) Remember that mere statement is not argument. (5) Remember that exhortation is not argument. V. THE WHOLE COMPOSITION +80. General Principles of Composition.+--There are three important principles to be considered in every composition: unity, coherence, and emphasis. Though not always named, each of these has been considered and used in our writing of paragraphs. The consideration of methods of securing unity, coherence, and emphasis in the composition as a whole is the purpose of this chapter. It will serve also as a review and especially as an enlarged view of paragraph development as treated in Chapter III, for the methods discussed with regard to the whole composition are the same that are used in applying the three principles to single paragraphs. +81. Unity.+--A composition possesses unity if all that it contains bears directly upon the subject. It is evident that the title of the theme determines in a large degree the matter that should be included. Much that is appropriate to a theme on "Bass Fishing" will be found unnecessary in a theme entitled "How I caught a Bass." It is easier to secure unity in a theme treating of a narrow, limited subject than in one treating of a broad, general subject. The first step toward unity is, therefore, the selection of a limited subject and a suitable title (see Sections 58-61); the second is the collection of all facts, illustrations, and other material which may appropriately be used in a theme having the chosen title. +82. Coherence.+--A composition is given coherence by placing the ideas in such an order that each naturally suggests the one which follows. If the last paragraph is more closely related in thought to the first paragraph than it is to the intervening ones, the composition lacks coherence. Similarly, that paragraph is coherent in which the thought moves forward in an orderly way with each sentence growing out of the preceding one. In describing the capture of a large trout a boy might state that he broke his pole. Then he might tell what kind of pole he had, why he did not have a better one, what poles are best adapted to trout fishing, etc. Though each of these ideas is suggested by the preceding, the story still lacks coherence because the boy will need later to go back and tell us what happened to him or to the trout when the pole broke. If a description of the kind of pole is necessary in order to make the point of the story clear, it should have been introduced earlier. Stopping at the moment of vital interest to discuss fishing poles, spoils the effect of the story. Good writers are very skillful in the early introducing of details that will enable the reader to appreciate the events as they happen, and they are equally skillful in omitting unnecessary details. The proper selection of these details gives unity, and their introduction at the proper place gives coherence to a narrative. By saying, "I am getting ahead of my story," the narrator confesses that coherence is lacking. Read again the selection on page 106. +83. Emphasis.+--If we desire to make one part of a theme more emphatic than another, we may do so by giving a prominent position to that part. In debating we give the first place and the last to the strongest arguments. In simple narration the order in which incidents must be related is fixed by the time-order of their occurrence, but even in a story the point gains in force if it is near the close. Because these two positions are the ones of greatest emphasis, a poor beginning or a bad ending will ruin an otherwise good story. Emphasis may also be affected by the proportional amount of attention and space given to the different parts of a theme. The extent to which any division of a theme should be developed depends upon the purpose and the total length of the theme. A biography of Grant might appropriately devote two or three chapters to his boyhood, while a short sketch of his life would treat his boyhood in a single paragraph. In determining the amount of space to be given to the different parts of a composition, care must be taken that the space assigned to each shall be proportional to its importance, the largest amount of space being devoted to the part which is of greatest worth. Emphasis is sometimes given by making a single sentence into a paragraph. This method should be used with care, for such a paragraph may be too short for unity because it does not include all that should be said about the topic statement, and though it makes that statement emphatic, fails to make its meaning clear. Clearness, unity, and coherence are of more importance than emphasis, and usually, if a theme possesses the first three qualities, it will possess the fourth in sufficient measure. +84. The Outline.+--An outline will assist us in securing unity, coherence, and emphasis. 1. The first step in making an outline has relation to unity. Unity requires that a theme include only that which pertains to the subject. There are always many more ideas that seem to bear upon a subject than can be included in the theme. We may therefore jot down brief notes that will suggest our ideas on the subject, and then we should reject from this list all that seem irrelevant or trivial. We should also reject the less important ideas which pertain directly to the subject if without them we have all that are needed in order to fulfill the purpose of the theme. Which items in the following should be omitted as not necessary to the complete treatment of the subject indicated by the title? Should anything be added? _My First Partridge_ Where I lived ten years ago. Kinds of game: partridge, quail, squirrels. Partridge drumming. My father went hunting often. How he was injured. Birch brush near hemlock; partridge often found in such localities. Loading the gun. Going to the woods. Why partridge live near birch brush. Fall season. Hunting for partridge allowed from September to December. Tramping through the woods. Something moving. Creeping up. How I felt; excited; hand shook. Partridge on log. Gun failed to go off; cocking it properly. The shot; the recoil. The flurry of the bird. How partridges fly. How they taste when cooked. Getting the bird. Going home. Partridges are found in the woods; quail in the fields. What my sister said. My brother's interest. My father's story about shooting three partridges with one shot. What mother did. 2. The second step in outline making has relation to coherence. After we have rejected from our notes all items which would interfere with the unity of our theme, we next arrange the remaining items in a coherent order. One method of securing coherence is illustrated by a simple narrative which follows the time-order. We naturally group together in our memory those events which occurred at a given time, and in recalling a series of events we pass in order from one such group to another. These groups form natural paragraph units, and the placing of them in their actual time-order gives coherence to the composition. After rejecting the unnecessary items in the preceding list, re-arrange the remaining ones in a coherent order. How many paragraphs would you make and what would you include in each? 3. The third step in making an outline has relation to emphasis. In some outlines emphasis is secured by placing the more important points first, in others by placing them last. In this particular outline we have a natural time-order to follow, and emphasis will be determined mainly by the relative proportion to be given to different paragraphs. Do not give unimportant paragraphs too much space. Be sure that the introduction and the conclusion are short. +Theme XLV.+--_Write a personal narrative at least three paragraphs in length._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. How I was saved from drowning. 2. The largest string of fish I ever caught. 3. An incident of the skating season. 4. What I did on Christmas day. 5. A Saturday with my grandmother. 6. To the city and back. (Make an outline. Keep in mind unity, coherence, and emphasis. Consider each paragraph with reference to unity, coherence, and emphasis.) +85. Development of a Composition with Reference to the Time-Order.+-- Of the several methods of developing a composition let us consider first that of giving details in the natural time-order. (See Section 46.) If a composition composed of a series of paragraphs possesses coherence, each paragraph is so related to the preceding ones that the thought goes steadily forward from one to another. Often the connection in thought is so evident that no special indication needs to be made, but if the paragraphs are arranged with reference to a time-order, this time-order is usually indicated. Notice how the relation in time of each paragraph to the preceding is shown by the following sentences of parts of sentences taken in order from a magazine article entitled "Yachting at Kiel," by James B. Connolly:-- 1. It was slow waiting in Travemunde. The long-enduring twilight of a summer's day at fifty-four north began to settle down... 2. The dusk comes on, and on the ships of war they seem to be getting nervous... 3. The dusk deepens... 4. It is getting chilly in the night air, with the rations running low, and the charterers of some of the fishing boats decide to go home... 5. It is eleven o'clock--dark night--and the breeze is freshening, when the first of the fleet heaves in sight... 6. After that they arrive rapidly... 7. At midnight there is still no _Meteor_... 8. Through the entire night they keep coming... 9. Next morning... +Theme XLVI.+--_Write a narrative, four or more paragraphs in length, showing the time-order._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. The race up the river. 2. The life of some well-known man. 3. The cake that fell. 4. Retell some incident that you have recently read. 5. Relate some personal experience. 6. A story suggested by the picture on page 160. (Make an outline. Consider the unity, coherence, and emphasis of each paragraph separately. Then consider the unity, coherence, and emphasis of the whole composition. Notice what expressions you have used to indicate the relations in time. Have you used the same expression too often?) +86. Development of a Composition with Reference to Position in Space.+-- A second method of development is to relate details with reference to their position in space. [Illustration] Just as we may give either a paragraph or a whole theme coherence by following a given time-order, so may we make a paragraph or a whole theme coherent by arranging the parts in an order determined by their position in space. In developing a theme by this method we simply apply to the whole theme the principles discussed for the development of a paragraph (Section 47). In a description composed of several paragraphs, each paragraph should contain a group of details closely related to one another in space. The paragraphs should be constructed so that each shall possess unity and coherence within itself, and they should be so arranged that we may pass most easily from the group of images presented by one paragraph to the images presented by the next. In narration, the space arrangement may supplement time-order in giving coherence. If the most attractive features of an art room are its wall decorations, five paragraphs describing the room may be as follows:-- 1. Point of view: general impression. 2. The north wall: general impression; details. 3. The east wall: general impression; details. 4. The south wall: general impression; details. 5. The west wall: general impression; details. It is easy to imagine a room in the description of which the following paragraphs would be appropriate:-- 1. Point of view. 2. The fireplace. 3. The easy-chair. 4. The table. 5. The bookcase. 6. The cozy nook. Such an arrangement of paragraphs would give coherence. Unity would be secured by including in each only that which properly belonged to it. There are many words and expressions which indicate the relative position of objects. The paragraph below is an illustration of the method of development described in Section 47. Notice the words which indicate the location of the different details in the scene. If each of these details should be developed into a paragraph the italicized expressions would serve to introduce these paragraphs and would show the relative positions of the objects described. The beauty of the sea and shore was almost indescribable: _on one side_ rose Point Loma, grim, gloomy as a fortress wall; _before_ me stretched away to the horizon the ocean with its miles of breakers curling into foam; _between_ the surf and the city, wrapped in its dark blue mantle, lay the sleeping bay; _eastward_ the mingled yellow, red, and white of San Diego's buildings glistened in the sunlight like a bed of coleus; _beyond_ the city heaved the rolling plains rich in their garb of golden brown, _from which_ rose the distant mountains, tier on tier, wearing the purple veil which Nature here loves oftenest to weave for them; while _in the foreground_, like a jewel in a brilliant setting, stood the Coronado. --Stoddard: _California_. +Theme XLVII.+--_Write a description three or more paragraphs in length._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. Some well-known building (exterior). 2. A prominent person. 3. An attractive room. 4. The interior of a church. (Consider your outline with reference to unity, coherence, and proportion of parts. When the theme is completed, consider the unity, coherence, and emphasis of each paragraph and of the composition as a whole.) +87. Paragraph Relations.+--Relations in thought other than those of time and space may be indicated by the use of certain words and phrases. Such expressions as, _however, nevertheless, consequently, indeed, moreover, at all events_, etc., are often used to indicate a relation in thought between paragraphs. Notice how _nevertheless_, at the beginning of the selection below, serves to connect it in thought with a preceding paragraph not printed here. Notice also the relations in thought shown by the italicized words. These and similar words are used to make the transition from one paragraph to the next. _Nevertheless_, Howe was at last in possession of Philadelphia, the object of his campaign, and with his communications by water open. He had consumed four months in this business since he left New York, three months since he landed near the Elk River. His prize, now that he had got it, was worth less than nothing in a military point of view, and he had been made to pay a high price for it, not merely in men, but in precious time, for while he was struggling sluggishly for Philadelphia, Burgoyne, who really meant something very serious, had gone to wreck and sunk out of sight in the northern forests. _Indeed_, Howe did not even hold his dearly bought town in peace. After the fall of the forts, Greene, aided by Lafayette, who had joined the army on its way to the Brandywine, made a sharp dash and broke up an outlying party of Hessians. _Such things_ were intolerable, they interfered with personal comfort, and they emanated from the American army which Washington had now established in strong lines at Whitemarsh. _So_ Howe announced that in order to have a quiet winter, he would drive Washington beyond the mountains. Howe did not often display military intelligence, but that he was profoundly right in this particular intention must be admitted. In pursuit of his plan, _therefore_, he marched out of Philadelphia on December 4th, drove off some Pennsylvania militia on the 5th, considered the American position for four days, did not dare to attack, could not draw his opponent out, returned to the city, and left Washington to go into winter quarters at Valley Forge, whence he could easily strike if any move was made by the British army. --Henry Cabot Lodge. +88. The Transition Paragraph.+--Just as a word or phrase may serve to denote the relation in thought between paragraphs, so may a whole paragraph be used to carry over the thought from one group of paragraphs to another in the same theme. Such a paragraph makes a transition from one general topic or method of treating the subject of the theme to some other general topic or to the consideration of the subject from a different point of view. This transitional paragraph may summarize the thought of the preceding paragraph in addition to announcing a change of topic; or it may mark the transition to the new topic and set it forth in general terms. +89. The Summarizing Paragraph.+--Frequently we give emphasis to our thought by a final paragraph summarizing the main points of the theme. Such a summary is in effect a restatement of the topic sentences of our paragraphs. If our theme has been coherent, these sentences stated in order will need but little changing to make a coherent paragraph. In a similar way, it is of advantage to close a long paragraph with a sentence which repeats the topic statement or summarizes the thought of the paragraph. See the last sentence in Section 57. +90. Development of a Composition by Comparison or Contrast.+--The third method of development is that of comparison or contrast. Nearly every idea which we have suggests one that is similar to it or in contrast with it. We are thus led to make comparisons or to state contrasts. When these are few and brief, they may make a single paragraph (Section 48). If our comparisons or contrasts are extended, they may make several paragraphs, and thus a whole theme may be developed by this method. In such a theme no fixed order of presentation is determined by the actual occurrence in time or space of that which we present. Consequently, in outlining a theme of this kind, we must devote special attention to arranging our paragraphs in an order that shall give coherence and emphasis. +Theme XLVIII.+--_Write a theme of three or more paragraphs developed by comparison._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. Compare men with verbs (active, passive, transitive, intransitive, defective, redundant, auxiliary, copulative, etc.). 2. Show that the body resembles a machine. 3. In what way is the school like a factory? 4. How do two books that you have read differ? 5. Compare Lincoln and McKinley. How alike? How different? 6. How can you tell an oak tree from an elm tree? 7. Without naming them, compare two of your friends with each other. 8. Compare the advantages and disadvantages of public high schools with those of private academies. +91. Development of a Composition by Use of Generalization and Facts.+-- Using the fourth method of development, we may give an entire composition to the explanation of the meaning of a general proposition or to the demonstration of the truth of such a proposition. To accomplish this purpose we state facts or instances that illustrate the meaning of the proposition or that show it to be true. In such a composition each important fact or instance may be given a separate paragraph, while several minor facts or illustrations may be properly combined in the same paragraph. (See Section 44.) Greater emphasis may also be given the more important facts by assigning them to the emphatic positions. Notice how by specific instances the following selection illustrates the truth of the generalization set forth in the second sentence and restated in the last sentence. DEGENERATION THROUGH QUIESCENCE While parasitism is the principal cause of degeneration among animals, yet it is not the sole cause. It is evident that if for any other reason animals should become fixed, and live inactive lives, they would degenerate. There are not a few instances of degeneration due simply to a quiescent life, unaccompanied by parasitism. The Tunicata, or sea squirts, are animals which have become simple through degeneration, due to the adoption of a sedentary life, the withdrawal from the crowd of animals and from the struggle which it necessitates. The young tunicate is a free-swimming, active, tadpolelike, or fishlike creature, which possesses organs very like those of the adult of the simplest fishes or fishlike forms. That is, the sea squirt begins life as a primitively simple vertebrate. It possesses in its larval stage a notochord, the delicate structure which precedes the formation of a backbone, extending along the upper part of the body below the spinal cord. The other organs of the young tunicate are all of vertebral type. But the young sea squirt passes a period of active and free life as a little fish, after which it settles down and attaches itself to a shell or wooden pier by means of suckers, and remains for the rest of its life fixed. Instead of going on and developing into a fishlike creature, it loses its notochord, its special sense organs, and other organs; it loses its complexity and high organization, and becomes a "mere rooted bag with a double neck," a thoroughly degenerate animal. A barnacle is another example of degeneration through quiescence. The barnacles are crustaceans related most nearly to the crabs and shrimps. The young barnacle just from the egg is a six-legged, free-swimming nauplius, very like a young prawn or crab, with a single eye. In its next larval stage it has six pairs of swimming feet, two compound eyes, and two antennae or feelers, and still lives an independent free-swimming life. When it makes its final change to the adult condition, it attaches itself to some stone, or shell, or pile, or ship's bottom, loses its compound eyes and feelers, develops a protecting shell, and gives up all power of locomotion. Its swimming feet become changed into grasping organs, and it loses most of its outward resemblance to the other members of its class. Certain insects live sedentary or fixed lives. All the members of the family of scale insects (Coccidae), in one sex at least, show degeneration that has been caused by quiescence. One of these coccids, called the red orange scale, is very abundant in Florida and California and in other fruit-growing regions. The male is a beautiful, tiny, two-winged midge, but the female is a wingless, footless, little sack, without eyes or other organs of special sense, which lies motionless under a flat, thin, circular, reddish scale composed of wax and two or three cast skins of the insect itself. The insect has a long, slender, flexible, sucking beak, which is thrust into the leaf or stem or fruit of the orange on which the "scale bug" lives, and through which the insect sucks the orange sap, which is its only food. It lays eggs under its body, and thus also under the protecting wax scale, and dies. From the eggs hatch active little larval "scale bugs," with eyes and feelers, and six legs. They crawl from under the wax scale and roam about over the orange tree. Finally, they settle down, thrusting their sucking beak into the plant tissue, and cast their skin. The females lose at this molt their legs and eyes and feelers. Each becomes a mere motionless sack capable only of sucking up sap and laying eggs. The young males, however, lose their sucking beak and can no longer take food, but they gain a pair of wings and an additional pair of eyes. They fly about and fertilize the sacklike females, which then molt again and secrete the thin wax scale over them. Throughout the animal kingdom loss of the need of movement is followed by the loss of the power to move and of all structures related to it. --Jordon and Kellogg: _Animal Life_. Has the principle of unity been observed in the above selection; that is, of the many things that might be told about a sea squirt, a barnacle, or a scale bug, have the authors selected only those which serve to illustrate degeneration through quiescence? Instead of one generalization supported by a series of facts to each of which a paragraph is given, we may have several subordinate generalizations relating to the subject of the theme. Each of these subordinate generalizations may become the topic statement of a paragraph which is further developed by giving specific instances or by some other method of paragraph development. Such an order, that is, generalization followed by the facts which illustrate it, is coherent; but care must be taken to give each fact under the generalization to which it is most closely related. On the other hand, our theme may be made coherent by giving the facts first, and then the generalization that they establish. +Theme XLIX.+--_Write a theme of three or more paragraphs illustrating or proving some general statement by means of facts or specific instances._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. Young persons should not drink coffee. 2. Reasons for the curfew bell. 3. Girls wear their hair in a variety of ways. 4. There are several kinds of boys in this school. 5. Civilization increases as the facilities for transportation increase. 6. Trolley roads are of great benefit to the country. 7. Presence of mind often averts danger. +92. Development of a Composition by Stating Cause and Effect.+--The statement of the causes of an event or condition may be used as a fifth method of development. The principle, however, is not different from that applied to the development of a paragraph by stating cause and effect (Section 49). If several causes contribute to the same effect, each may be given a separate paragraph, or several minor ones may be combined in one paragraph. For the sake of unity we must include each fact, principle, or statement in the paragraph to which it really belongs. The coherent order is usually that which proceeds from causes to effects rather than that which traces events backward from effects to causes. +Theme L.+--_Write a theme of three or more paragraphs, stating causes and effects._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. Why hospitals are necessary. 2. Why cigarette smoking is dangerous. 3. Why girls should take music lessons. 4. The effect of climate upon health. 5. The effect of rainfall upon the productivity and industries of a country. 6. The effect of mountains, lakes, or rivers upon exploration and travel. 7. What connection is there between occupation and height above the sea level, and why? 8. Why our city is located where it is. 9. Why I came late to school. +93. Combination of Methods of Development.+--Frequently the presentation of our thought is made most effective by using some combination of the methods of development discussed in this chapter. Time and place are often interwoven, comparisons and contrasts flash into mind, general statements need specific illustration, or results demand immediate explanation--all in the same theme. Sometimes the order of coherence will be in doubt, for cause and effect demand a different order of statement from that which would be given were we to follow either time-order or position in space. In such cases we must choose whether it is most important to tell first _why_ or _when_ or _where_. The only rule that can be suggested is to do that which will make our meaning most clear, because it is for the sake of the clear presentation of our thought that we seek unity, coherence, and emphasis. +Theme LI.+--_Write a theme of several paragraphs. Use any method of development or any combination of methods._ (Choose your own subject. After the theme is written make a list of all the questions you should ask yourself about it. Correct the theme with reference to each point in your list of questions.) SUMMARY 1. General principles of composition. _a._ Unity. _b._ Coherence. _c._ Emphasis. (1) By position. (2) By proportion of parts. 2. An outline assists in securing unity, coherence, and emphasis. 3. Methods of composition development: A composition may be developed-- _a._ With reference to time-order. _b._ With reference to position in space. _c._ By use of comparison and contrast. _d._ By stating generalization and facts. _e._ By stating cause and effect. _f._ By any suitable combination of the above methods. 4. Transition and summary paragraphs may occur in compositions. VI. LETTER WRITING +94. Importance of Good Letter Writing.+--Letter writing is the form of written language used by most of us more frequently than any other form. The importance of good letter writing is therefore obvious. Business, personal, and social relations necessitate the writing of letters. We are judged by those letters; and in order that we may be considered businesslike, educated, and cultured, it is necessary that we should be able to write good letters, not only as regards the form but also as regards the subject-matter. The writing of good letters is often the means of securing desirable positions and of keeping up pleasant and helpful friendships. Since this form of composition plays so important a part in our lives and the lives of those about us, it is worthy of careful study. The subject-matter is the most important part of the letter, but adherence to usages generally adopted is essential to successful letter writing. Some of these usages may seem trivial in themselves, but a lack of attention to them shows either ignorance or carelessness on the part of the writer, and the consequences resulting from this inattention are often anything but trivial. Applicants for good positions have been rejected either because they did not know the correct usages of letter writing, or because they did not heed them. In no other form of composition are the rules concerning form so rigid; hence the need of knowledge and carefulness concerning them. +95. Paper.+--The nature of the letter determines to some extent our choice of paper. Business letters are usually written on large paper, about ten by eight inches in size, while letters of friendship and notes of various kinds are written on paper of smaller size. White or delicately tinted paper is always in good taste for all kinds of letters. The use of highly tinted paper is occasionally in vogue with some people, but failure to use it is never an offense against the laws of good taste. It is customary now to use unruled paper for all kinds of letters as well as for other forms of compositions. For letters of friendship four-page paper is preferred to that in tablet form. The order in which the pages are used may vary; but whatever the order is, it should not be confusing to the reader. Black ink should always be used. The writing should be neat and legible. Attention should be paid to margin, paragraphs, and indentation. In fact, all the rules of theme writing apply to letter writing, and to these are added several others. +96. The Beginning of a Letter.+--Certain forms for the beginning of letters have been agreed upon, and these forms should be followed. The beginning of a letter usually includes the heading, the address of the person or persons to whom the letter is sent, and the salutation. Notice the following examples:-- (1) ______________________________________________________ | | | 171 Miles Ave., | | Cleveland, Ohio. | | Oct. 21, 1905. | | Marshall Field & Co., | | State St., Chicago, Ill. | | | | Gentlemen: | | | (2) ______________________________________________________ | | | Ottawa, Ill. | | Nov. 9, 1905. | | Dear Harold, | | | (3) ______________________________________________________ | | | 1028 Jackson Boulevard, | | Chicago Ill. | | Nov. 10, 1905. | | Messrs. Johnson & Foote, | | 120 Main St., | | Pittsfield, Mass. | | | | Dear Sirs, | | | (4) ______________________________________________________ | | | 120 P Street, | | Lincoln, Neb. | | Oct. 17, 1905. | | My dear Mrs. Scott, | | | (5) ______________________________________________________ | | | Boston, Mass., Nov. 23, 1905. | | | | Dear Mother, | | | (6) ______________________________________________________ | | | 33 Front St., | | Adrian, Mich. | | Nov. 30, 1905. | | Miss Gertrude Brown, | | 228 Warren Ave., Chicago, Ill. | | | | Dear Madam: | | | (7) ______________________________________________________ | | | New Hartford, Conn. | | Nov. 3, 1905. | | My dear Henry, | | | The heading of a letter includes the address of the writer and the date of the writing. When numerous letters are sent from one place to another, the street and number may after a time be omitted from the heading. Example (5) illustrates this. A son living in Boston has written to his mother frequently and no longer considers it necessary to write the street and number in every letter. If there is any doubt in the writer's mind as to whether his address will be remembered or not, he should include it in the letter. If the writer lives in a small place where the street and number will not be needed in a reply sent to him, it is unnecessary for him to make use of it in his letter. When the street and number are omitted, the heading may be written on one line, as in example (5), but the use of two lines is preferable. Custom has decreed that the proper place for the heading is in the right-hand upper corner of the first page. Sometimes, especially in business letters, we find the writer's address at the close of the letter, but for the sake of convenience it is preferably placed at the beginning. The first line should be about one inch and a half from the top of the page. The second line should begin a little to the right of the first line, and the third line, a little to the right of the second line. Attention should be paid to proper punctuation in each line. In a comparatively few cases we may find that the omission of the date of the letter will make no difference to the recipient, but in most cases it will cause annoyance at least, and in many cases result in serious trouble both to ourselves and to those who receive our letters. We should not allow ourselves to neglect the date even in letters of apparently no great importance. If we allow the careless habit of omitting dates to develop, we may some day omit a date when the omission will affect affairs of great importance. This date should include the day, month, and year. It is better to write out the entire year, as 1905, not '05. In business letters it is customary to write the address of the person or persons addressed at the left side of the page. Either two or three lines may be used. The first line of this address should be one line lower than the last line of the heading. Notice examples (1), (3), and (6). When the address is thus written, the salutation is commonly written one line below it. Sometimes the salutation is commenced at the margin, and sometimes a little to the right of the address. Where there is no address, the salutation is written a line below the date and begins with the margin, as in examples (2), (4), (5), and (7). The form of salutation naturally depends upon the relations existing between the correspondents. The forms _Dear Sir, My dear Sir, Madam, My dear Madam, Dear Sirs, Gentlemen_, are used in formal business letters. The forms _Dear Miss Robinson, My dear Mrs. Hobart, Dear Mr. Fraser, My dear Mr. Scott_, are used in business letters when the correspondents are acquainted with each other. The same forms are also used in letters of friendship when the correspondents are not well enough acquainted with each other to warrant the use of the more familiar forms, _My dear Mary, Dear Edmund, My dear Friend, Dear Cousin, My dear little Niece_. There is no set rule concerning the punctuation of the salutation. The comma, the colon, or the semicolon may be used either alone or in connection with the dash. The comma alone seems to be the least formal of all, and the colon the most so. Hence the former is used more frequently in letters of friendship, and the latter more frequently in business letters. +97. Body of the Letter.+--The body of the letter is the important part; in fact, it is the letter itself, since it contains the subject-matter. It will be discussed under another head later, and is only mentioned here in order to show its place in connection with the beginning of a letter. As a rule, it is best to begin the body of our letters one line below, and either directly underneath or to the right of the salutation. It is not improper, however, especially in business letters, to begin it on the same line with the salutation. A few examples will be sufficient to show the variations of the place for beginning the main part of the letter. (1) ______________________________________________________ | | | 1694 Cedar Ave., | | Cleveland, Ohio. | | June 23, 1905. | | Messrs. Hanna, Scott & Co., | | Aurora, Ill. | | | | Gentlemen:--I inclose a money order for $10.00, | | etc. | | | (2) ______________________________________________________ | | | Everett, Washington. | | Oct. 20, 1905. | | My dear Robert, | | We are very glad that you have decided to make | | us a visit, etc. | | | (3) ______________________________________________________ | | | Greenwich, N.Y. | | Sept. 19, 1905. | | My dear Miss Russ, | | Since I have been Miss Clark's assistant, etc. | | | (4) ______________________________________________________ | | | 2 University Ave., | | Nashville, Tenn. | | April 19, 1905. | | The American Book Company, | | 300 Pike St., | | Cinncinnati, O. | | | | Dear Sirs:--Please send me by express two copies | | of Halleck's English Literature, etc. | | | +98. Conclusion of a Letter.+--The conclusion of a letter includes what is termed the complimentary close and the signature. Certain forms have been agreed upon, which should be closely followed. Our choice of a complimentary close, like that of a salutation, depends upon the relations existing between us and those to whom we are writing. Such forms as _Your loving daughter, With love, Ever your friend, Your affectionate mother_, should be used only when intimate relations exist between correspondents. In letters where existing relations are not so intimate and in some kinds of business letters the forms _Sincerely yours, Yours very sincerely,_ may be used appropriately. The most common forms in business letters are _Yours truly_ and _Very truly yours_. The forms _Respectfully yours,_ or _Yours very respectfully,_ should be used only when there is occasion for some special respect, as in writing to a person of high rank or position. The complimentary close should be written one line below the last line of the main part of the letter, and toward the right-hand side of the page. Its first word should commence with a capital, and a comma should be placed at its close. The signature properly belongs below and a little to the right of the complimentary close. Except in cases of familiar relationship, the name should be signed in full. It is difficult to determine the spelling of unfamiliar proper names if they are carelessly written. It is therefore important in writing to strangers that the signature should be made plainly legible in order that they may know how to address the writer in their reply. A lady should make it plain whether she is to be addressed as _Miss_ or _Mrs._ This can be done either by placing the title _Miss_ or _Mrs._ in parentheses before the name, or by writing the whole address below and to the left of the signature. Boys and men may often avoid confusion by signing their first name instead of using only initials. Notice the following examples of the complimentary close and signature:-- (1) ______________________________________________________ | | | Appleton, Wisconsin. | | Sept. 3, 1905. | | | | My dear Cousin, | | | | | | (Body of letter.) | | | | | | Yours with love, | | Gertrude Edmonds. | | | (2) ______________________________________________________ | | | 192 Lincoln Ave., | | Worcester, Mass. | | Nov. 25, 1905. | | | | L.B. Bliss & Co., | | 109 Summer St., | | Boston, Mass. | | | | | | Dear Sirs; | | | | (Body of letter.) | | | | | | | | Very truly yours, | | Walter A. Cutler. | | | (3) ______________________________________________________ | | | Paxton, Ill. | | July 3, 1905. | | | | American Typewriter Co., | | 263 Broadway, New York. | | | | | | Gentlemen: | | | | | | (Body of letter.) | | | | | | | | Very truly yours, | | (Miss) Jennie R. McAllister. | | | (4) ______________________________________________________ | | | May 5, 1905. | | | | Daniel Low & Co., | | 232 Essex St., Salem, Mass. | | | | | | Dear Sirs; | | | | | | (Body of letter.) | | | | | | | | Mary E. Ball | | | | Mrs. George W. Ball, | | 415 Fourth St., | | La Salle, Ill. | | | (5) ______________________________________________________ | | | Marshalltown, Iowa. | | Oct. 3, 1905. | | | | My dear Miss Meyer, | | | | | | (Body of letter.) | | | | | | Sincerely yours, | | Dorothy Doddridge. | | | EXERCISE Write suitable headings, salutations, complimentary endings, and signatures for the following letters:-- 1. To Spaulding & Co., Wabash Ave., Chicago, Ill., ordering their rules for basket ball. 2. To your older brother. 3. To the school board, asking for a gymnasium. 4. To some business house, making application for a position. 5. To the governor of your state. 6. From one stranger to another. 7. From an older brother to his little sister. 8. From a boy living in New Orleans to the father of his most intimate friend. +99. The Envelope.+--The direction on the envelope, commonly called the superscription, consists of the name and address of the person or persons to whom the letter is sent. This direction should be written in a careful and _courteous manner_, and should include all that is necessary to insure the prompt delivery of the letter to the proper destination. The superscription may be arranged in three or four lines, each line beginning a little to the right of the preceding line. The name should be written about midway between the upper and lower edges of the envelope, and there should be nearly an equal amount of space left at each side. If there is any difference, there should be less space at the right than at the left. The street and number may be written below the name, and the city or town and state below. The street and number may be properly written in the lower left-hand corner. This is also the place for any special direction that may be necessary for the speedy transmission of the letter; for example, "In care of Mr. Charles R. Brown." Women should be addressed as _Miss_ or _Mrs._ In case the woman is married, her husband's first name and middle initial are commonly used, unless it is known that she prefers to have her own first name used. Men should be addressed as _Mr._, and a firm may in many cases be addressed as _Messrs._ It is considered proper to use the titles _Dr._, _Rev._, etc., in directing an envelope to a man bearing such a title, but it would be entirely out of place to address the wife of a physician or clergyman as _Mrs. Dr._ or _Mrs. Rev._ The names of states may be abbreviated, but care should be taken that these abbreviations be plainly written, especially when there are other similar abbreviations. In compound names, as North Dakota and West Virginia, do not abbreviate one part of the compound and write out the other. Either abbreviate both or write out both. If any punctuation besides the period after abbreviations is used, it consists of a comma after each line. It is the custom now to omit such punctuation. Either form is in good taste, but whichever form is adopted, it should be employed throughout the entire superscription. The comma should not be used in one line and omitted in another. Notice the following forms of correct superscriptions:-- (1) ______________________________________________________ | | | | | Mr. Milo R. Maltbie | 85 West 118th St. | New York. |______________________________________________________ (2) ______________________________________________________ | | | | | Mr. John D. Clark | New York | N.Y. | | Teachers College | Columbia University. |______________________________________________________ (3) ______________________________________________________ | | | | | Mrs. Edgar N. Foster | South Haven | Mich. | | Avery Beach Hotel. | ______________________________________________________ (4) ______________________________________________________ | | | | | Miss Louise M. Baker | Nottingham | Ohio. | | Box 129. |______________________________________________________ (5) ______________________________________________________ | | | | | Dr. James M. Postle | De Kalb | Ill. | |______________________________________________________ (6) ______________________________________________________ | | | | | Miss Ida Morrison | Chicago | Ill. | | | 1048 Warren Ave. |______________________________________________________ EXERCISE Write proper superscriptions to letters written to the following:-- 1. Thaddeus Bolton, living at 524 Q Street, Lincoln, Nebraska. 2. The wife of a physician of your acquaintance. 3. James B. Angell, President of the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan. 4. Your mother, visiting some relative or friend. 5. The publishers Allyn and Bacon, 878 Wabash Avenue, Chicago, Ill. 6. Edward Harrington, living at 1962 Seventh Avenue, New York. 7. To a friend at a seaside resort. 8. To a friend visiting your uncle in Oakland, California. +100. The Great Rule of Letter Writing.+--The great rule of letter writing is, Never write a letter which you would not be willing to see in print over your own signature. That which you _say_ in anger may be discourteous and of little credit to you, but it may in time be forgotten; that which you _write_, however, may be in existence an untold number of years. Thousands of letters are now on exhibition whose authors never had such a use of them in mind. If you ever feel like writing at the end of a letter, "Burn this as soon as you read it," do not send it, but burn the letter yourself. Before you sign your name to any letter read it over and ask yourself, "Is this letter in form and contents one which would do me credit if it should be published?" +101. Business Letters.+--Since the purpose of business letters is to inform, they should, first of all, be characterized by clearness. In asking for information, be sure that you state your questions so that there shall be no doubt in the mind of the recipient concerning the information that you desire. In giving information, be equally sure to state facts so clearly that there can be no possibility of a mistake. Brevity is the soul of business letters as well as of wit. Business men are busy men. They have no time to waste in reading long letters, but wish to gain their information quickly. Hence we should aim to state the desired facts in as concise a manner as possible, and we should give only pertinent facts. Short explanations may sometimes be necessary, but nothing foreign to the subject-matter should ever be introduced. While we should aim to make our letters short, they should not be so brief as to appear abrupt and discourteous. It shows lack of courtesy to omit important words or to make too frequent use of abbreviations. We should answer a business letter as soon as possible. This answer, besides giving the desired information, should include a reference to the letter received and an acknowledgment of inclosures, if there were any. All questions should receive courteous replies. The facts should be arranged in a form that will be convenient for the recipient. As a rule it is best to follow the order which the writer has used in his letter, but in some cases we may be able to state our facts more definitely and concisely if we follow some other order. What has been said in general about attention to forms in letter writing might well be emphasized here, for business men are keen critics concerning letters received. Be careful to use the correct forms already suggested. Also pay attention to punctuation, spelling, and grammar. Write only on one side of the paper and fold the letter correctly. In fact, be businesslike in everything connected with the writing of business letters. A few examples are here given for your notice:-- (1) ______________________________________________________ | | | Ypsilanti, Mich. | | April 4, 1905. | | | | Mr. William Wylie, | | 807 Linn St., Peoria, Ill. | | | | Dear Mr. Wylie; | | Inclosed is a letter from Superintendent Rogers | | of Rockford, Ill. The position of teacher of | | mathematics is vacant. The salary may not be so | | much as you now receive, but in many respects the | | position is a desirable one. I advise you to apply | | for it. | | Sincerely yours, | | Charles M. Gates. | | | (2) ______________________________________________________ | | | 586 State St., | | Chicago, Ill. | | July 20,1905. | | | | Mrs. Charles H. McNett, | | 2345 Franklin St., | | Denver, Colorado. | | | | Dear Madam:--Your card of July 9th is at hand. We | | beg to say that we sent you the books by express, | | prepaid, July 9th, and they have probably reached | | you by this time. If you have not received them, | | please notify us, and we will send a tracer after | | them. | | Very truly yours, | | Brown and Sherman. | | | | | (3) ______________________________________________________ | | | Elgin High School, | | Elgin, Ill. | | Sept. 4, 1905. | | | | | | Miss Ella B. Walker, | | Herkimer, New York. | | | | My dear Miss Walker: | | I am very sorry to have to trouble you, | | but I am desirous of obtaining some information | | concerning the High School Library. Will you kindly | | let me know whether the card catalogue was kept up | | to date prior to your departure and also whether the | | accession book was in use up to that time? | | I shall be greatly indebted to you if you will | | give me this information. | | Very sincerely yours, | | Edward J. Taylor. | | | EXERCISE Write at least three of the following suggested letters, paying attention to the rules for writing business letters:-- 1. Write to a dry goods firm, asking them to send you one of their catalogues. 2. Write to the manager of a football team of some town near yours, proposing a game. 3. Write the reply. 4. In reply to an advertisement, write an application for the position of clerk or bookkeeper. 5. Write to the publishers of some magazine, asking them to change your address from 27 K Street, Toledo, Ohio, to 2011 Prospect Avenue, Beatrice, Nebraska. 6. Suppose yourself doing postgraduate work in your high school. Write to the president of some college, asking him concerning advanced credit. +102. Letters of Friendship.+--While a great deal of information may be obtained from some letters of friendship, the real purpose of such letters is, usually, not to give information, but to entertain. You will notice that the information derived from letters of friendship differs from that found in business letters. Its nature is such that of itself it gives pleasure. Our letters to our relatives, friends, and acquaintances are but visits on paper, and it should be our purpose to make these visits as enjoyable as possible. So much depends upon the circumstances attendant upon the writing of letters of friendship, that it is impossible to make any definite statement as to what they should contain. We may say in general that they should contain matter interesting to the recipient, and that they should be characterized by vividness and naturalness. Interesting material is a requisite, but that of itself is not sufficient to make an entertaining letter. Interesting material may be presented in so unattractive and lifeless a manner that much of its power to please is lost. Let your letters be full of life and spirit. In your descriptions, narrations, and explanations, express yourself so clearly and so vividly that those who read your letters will be able to understand exactly what you mean. EXERCISES 1. Write a letter to a classmate who has moved to another town, telling him of the school of which he was once a member. 2. Write to a friend, describing your visit to the World's Fair at St. Louis. 3. Suppose yourself away from home. Write a letter to your little brother or sister at home. 4. If you have ever been abroad, describe in a letter some place of interest that you have visited. 5. Write to a friend who is fond of camping, about your camping experience. 6. Suppose your mother is away from home on a visit. Write her about the home life. 7. Write to a friend, describing a party that you recently attended. 8. Suppose you have moved from one town to another. In a letter compare the two towns. +103. Adaptation to the Reader.+--The golden rule of letter writing is, Adapt the letter to the reader. Although the letter is an expression of yourself, yet it should be that kind of expression which shall most interest and please your correspondent. In business letters the necessity of brevity and clearness forces attention to the selection and arrangement of details. In letters to members of the family or to intimate friends we must include many very minor things, because we know that our correspondent will be interested in them, but a rambling, disjointed jumble of poorly selected and ill-arranged details becomes tedious. What we should mention is determined by the interests of the readers, and the successful letter writer will endeavor to know what they wish to have mentioned. In writing letters to our friends we ought to show that sympathetic interest in them and their affairs which we should have if we were visiting with them. On occasion, our congratulations should be prompt and sincere. In reading letters we must not be hasty to take offense. Many good friendships have been broken because some statement in a letter was misconstrued. The written words convey a meaning very different from that which would have been given by the spoken word, the tone of voice, the smile, and the personal presence. So in our writing we must avoid all that which even borders on complaint, or which may seem critical or fault-finding to the most sensitive. +104. Notes.+--Notes may be divided in a general way into two classes, formal and informal. Formal notes include formal invitations, replies, requests, and announcements. Informal notes include informal invitations and replies, and also other short communications of a personal nature on almost every possible subject. +105. Formal Notes.+--A formal invitation is always written in the third person. The lines may be of the same length, or they may be so arranged that the lines shall be of different lengths, thus giving the page a somewhat more pleasing appearance. The heading, salutation, complimentary close, and signature are all omitted. The address of the sender may be written below the body of the letter. Many prefer it a little to the left, and the date is sometimes written below it. Others, however, prefer it directly below or a little to the right. Replies to formal invitations should always be written in the third person, and should in general follow the style of the invitation. The date and the hour of the invitation should be repeated in the reply, and this reply should be sent immediately after receiving the invitation. A few examples are here given to show the correct forms of both invitations and replies:-- (1) ______________________________________________________ | | | Mr. and Mrs. Frederick William Thompson | | request the pleasure of your company | | on Monday evening, December thirtieth, | | at half-past eight o'clock. | | | (2) ______________________________________________________ | | | Miss Barrows accepts with pleasure Mr. and | | Mrs. Thompson's invitation for Monday evening, | | December thirtieth, at half-past eight o'clock. | | | (3) ______________________________________________________ | | | Mr. Morris regrets that a previous engagement | | prevents his accepting Mr. and Mrs. Thompson's | | kind invitation for Monday evening, December | | the thirtieth. | | | (4) ______________________________________________________ | | | Mr. and Mrs. Albert W. Elliott request the | | pleasure of Mr. John Barker's company at dinner | | on Wednesday, December sixth, at seven o'clock. | | | | 1068 Euclid Ave. | | | (5) ______________________________________________________ | | | Mr. Barker regrets his inability to accept | | Mr. and Mrs. Albert W. Elliott's invitation to | | dinner at seven o'clock, Wednesday, December | | sixth. | | | EXERCISE 1. Write an invitation to a golden wedding. 2. Mrs. Homer A. Payne invites Miss Eva Milton to dine with her next week Thursday at eight o'clock. Write out a formal invitation. 3. Write regrets to Mrs. Payne's invitation. 4. Write an acceptance of the same invitation. 5. Write a formal invitation to a party to be given in honor of your guest, Miss Grace Mason. +106. Informal Notes.+--Informal invitations and replies may contain the same subject-matter as formal invitations and replies. The only difference is in the form in which they are written. The informal invitation is in form similar to a letter except that the same exactness about the heading is not required. Sometimes the heading is written and sometimes it is omitted entirely. The address of the one sending the invitation and the date may be written below the body of the note to the left of the signature. The reply to an informal invitation should always be informal, but the date and hour should be repeated as in replies to formal invitations. A great many informal notes not included in invitations and replies are constantly written. These are simply brief letters of friendship, and the purposes for which they are written are exceedingly varied. When we write congratulations or words of condolence, when we introduce one friend to another, when we thank some one for a gift, and when we give words of advice, and in many other instances, we make use of informal notes. They should be simple, personal, and as a rule confined to but one subject. Notice the following examples of informal notes:-- (1) _________________________________________________________________ | | | My dear Mrs. Lathrop, | | | | Will you not give us the pleasure of your company | | at dinner, on next Friday evening at seven o'clock? Miss Todd | | of Philadelphia is visiting us, and we wish our friends to meet | | her. | | | | Very sincerely yours, | | Ethel M. Trainor. | | 840 Forest Avenue, | | Dec. 5, 1905. | | | (2) _________________________________________________________________ | | | Dec. 6, 1905. | | | | My dear Mrs. Trainor, | | | | I sincerely regret that I cannot accept your invitation | | to dinner next Friday evening, for I have made a previous | | engagement which it will be impossible for me to break. | | | | Yours most sincerely, | | Emma Lathrop. | | | (3) _________________________________________________________________ | | | My dear Blanche, | | | | Mr. Gilmore and I are planning for a little party | | Thursday evening of this week. I hope you have no other | | engagement for that evening, as we shall be pleased to have | | you with us. | | Very cordially yours, | | Margaret Gilmore. | | | (4) ______________________________________________________________ | | | My dear Margaret, | | | | Fortunately I have no other engagement for this | | week Thursday evening, and I shall be delighted to spend an | | evening with you and your friends. | | | | Very sincerely yours, | | Blanche A. Church. | | | EXERCISE Write the following informal notes:-- 1. Write to a friend, asking him or her to lend you a book. 2. Write an invitation to an informal trolley, tennis, or golf party. 3. Write the reply. 4. Invite one of your friends to spend his or her vacation with you. 5. Write a note to your sister, asking her to send you your theme that you left at home this morning. 6. Mrs. Edgar A. Snow invites Miss Mabel Minard to dine with her. Write out the invitation. 7. Write the acceptance. VII. POETRY [Footnote: _To the Teacher._--Since the expression of ideas in metrical form is seldom the one best suited to the conditions of modern life, it has not seemed desirable to continue the themes throughout this chapter. The study of this chapter, with suitable illustrations from the poems to which the pupils have access, may serve to aid them in their appreciation of poetry. This appreciation of poetry will be increased if the pupils attempt some constructive work. It is recommended, therefore, that one or more of the simpler kinds of metrical composition be tried. For example, one or two good ballads may be read and the pupils asked to write similar ones. Some pupils may be able to write blank verse.] +107. Purpose of Poetry.+--All writing aims to give information or to furnish entertainment (Section 54). Often the same theme may both inform and entertain, though one of these purposes may be more prominent than the other. Prose may merely entertain, or it may so distinctly attempt to set forth ideas clearly that the giving of pleasure is entirely neglected. In poetry the entertainment side is never thus subordinated. Poetry always aims to please by the presentation of that which is beautiful. All real poetry produces an aesthetic effect by appealing to our aesthetic sense; that is, to our love of the beautiful. In making this appeal to our love of the beautiful, poetry depends both upon the ideas it contains and upon the forms it uses. Like prose, it may increase its aesthetic effect by appropriate phrasing, effective arrangement, and subtle suggestiveness, but it also makes use of certain devices of language such as rhythm, rhyme, etc., which, though they may occur in writings that would be classed as prose, are characteristic of poetry. Much depends upon the ideas that poetry contains; for mere nonsense, though in perfect rhyme and rhythm, is not poetry. But it is not the idea alone which makes a poem beautiful; it is the form as well. The merely trivial cannot be made beautiful by giving it poetical form, but there are many poems containing ideas of small importance which please us because of the perfection of form. We enjoy them as we do the singing of the birds or the murmuring of the brooks. In fact, poetry is inseparable from its characteristic forms. To sort out, re-arrange, and paraphrase into second-class prose the ideas which a poem contains is a profitless and harmful exercise, because it emphasizes the intellectual side of a work which was created for the purpose of appealing to our aesthetic sense. +108. Rhythm.+--There are several forms characteristic of poetry, by the use of which its beauty and effectiveness are enhanced. Of these, rhythm is the most prominent one, without which no poetry is possible. In its widest sense, rhythm indicates a regular succession of motions, impulses, sounds, accents, etc., producing an agreeable effect. Rhythm in poetry consists of the recurrence of accented and unaccented syllables in regular succession. In poetry, care must be taken to make the accented syllable of a word come at the place where the rhythm demands an accent. The regular recurrence of accented and unaccented syllables produces a harmony which appeals to our aesthetic sense and thus enhances for us the beauty of poetry. Read the following selections so as to show the rhythm:-- 1. We were crowded in the cabin; Not a soul would dare to speak; It was midnight on the waters And a storm was on the deep. --James T. Fields. 2. Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. --Tennyson. 3. Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor --Poe. 4. Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps. --Tennyson. 5. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermitage. --Lovelace. 6. Merrily swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Snug and safe is this nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee. --Bryant. 7. Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in His hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!" --Browning. +109. Feet.+--The metrical effect of the preceding selections is produced by the regular recurrence of accented and unaccented syllables. A group of accented and unaccented syllables is called a foot. There are four regular feet in English verse, the iambus, the anapest, the trochee, and the dactyl. Three irregular feet, the pyrrhic, the spondee, the amphibrach, are occasionally found in lines, but not in entire poems, and are often considered merely as substitutes for regular feet. For the sake of convenience the accented syllables are indicated thus: _, and the unaccented syllables thus: U. _An iambus_ is a foot consisting of two syllables with the accent on the last. U _| U _| U _| U _| U _| Let not ambition mock their useful toil. --Gray. U _|U _| U _|U _| He prayeth best who loveth best U _| U _| U _| All things both great and small; _ U | U _| U _|U _| For the dear God who loveth us, U _| U _|U _| He made and loveth all. --Coleridge. _An anapest_ is a foot consisting of three syllables with the accent on the last. U U _| U U _|U U _| I am monarch of all I survey. U U _ | U U _ | U U _ | I would hide with the beasts of the chase. _A trochee_ is a foot consisting of two syllables with the accent on the first. _ U | _ U | _ U | _ U| Double, double, toil and trouble. --Shakespeare. _ U | _ U |_ U |_ U | Let us then be up and doing, _ U| _ U | _U | _ | With a heart for any fate, _ U |_ U | _ U|_ U | Still achieving, still pursuing, _ U | _ U |_ U | _ | Learn to labor and to wait. --Longfellow. _A dactyl_ is a foot consisting of three syllables with the accent on the first. _ U U | _ U U | Cannon to right of them, _ U U | _ U U | Cannon to left of them, _ U U | _ U U | Cannon in front of them, _ U U |_ U | Volleyed and thundered. --Tennyson. It will be convenient to remember that two of these, the iambus and the anapest, have the accent on the last syllable, and that two, the trochee and the dactyl, have the accent on the first syllable. _A spondee_ is a foot consisting of two syllables, both of which are accented about equally. It is an unusual foot in English poetry. U _ | _ _ | U _| U _ | Come now, blow, Wind, and waft us o'er. _A pyrrhic_ is a foot consisting of two syllables both of which are unaccented. It is frequently found at the end of a line. U _ | U _ | U _|U U Life is so full of misery. _An amphibrach_ is a foot consisting of three syllables, with the accent on the second. U _ U U _ U| U _ U| U _ | Creator, Preserver, Redeemer and friend. +110. Names of Verse.+--A single line of poetry is called a verse. A stanza is composed of several verses. When a verse consists of one foot, it is called a monometer; of two feet, a dimeter; of three feet, a trimeter; of four feet, a tetrameter; of five feet, a pentameter; and of six feet, a hexameter. _ U Monometer. Slowly. _ U U| _ U U | Dimeter. Emblem of happiness. _ U| _U| _ U | Trimeter. Like a poet hidden. _ U| _ U| _ U | _ U | Tetrameter. Tell me not in mournful numbers. U _ |U _ |U _| U _ | U _ | Pentameter. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath. _ U U | _ U U | _ U U | _ U U | _ U Hexameter. This is the forest primeval; the murmuring pines and U | _ U | the hemlocks. When we say that a verse is of any particular kind, we do not mean that every foot in that line is necessarily of the same kind. Verse is named by stating first the prevailing foot which composes it, and second the number of feet in a line. A verse having four iambic feet is called iambic tetrameter. So we have dactylic hexameter, trochaic pentameter, iambic trimeter, anapestic dimeter, etc. EXERCISES _A._ Mark the accented and unaccented syllables in the following selections, and name the kind of verse:-- 1. Build me straight, O worthy Master! Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel That shall laugh at all disaster And with wave and whirlwind wrestle. --Longfellow. 2. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air, I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care. --Whittier. 3. For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar. --Tennyson. 4. Chanting of labor and craft, and of Wealth in the pot and the garner; Chanting of valor and fame, and the man who can, fall with the foremost, Fighting for children and wife, and the field which his father bequeathed him, Sweetly and solemnly sang she, and planned new lessons for mortals. --Kingsley. 5. Have you read in the Talmud of old, In the Legends the Rabbins have told, Of the limitless realms of the air, Have you read it,--the marvelous story Of Sandalphon, the Angel of Glory, Of Sandalphon, the Angel of Prayer? --Longfellow. _B._ 1. Find three poems written in iambic verse, and three written in trochaic verse. 2. Write at least one stanza, using iambic verse. 3. Write at least one stanza, using the same kind of verse that you find in Tennyson's "Charge of the Light Brigade." 4. Write two anapestic lines. +111. Variation in Rhythm.+--The name given to a verse is determined by the foot which prevails, but not every foot in the line needs to be of the same kind. Just as in music we may substitute a quarter for two eighth notes, so may we in poetry substitute one foot for another, provided it is given the same amount of time. Notice in the following that the rhythm is perfect and the beat regular, although a three-syllable anapest has been substituted in the second line for a two-syllable iambus:-- U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ | Beneath those rugged elms, that yew tree's shade, U _ | U _ | U _| U U _ | U _ | Where heaves the turf in many a moldring heap, _ U | U _ | U _ | U _ |U _ | Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ | The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The following from _Evangeline_ illustrates the substitution of trochees for dactyls:-- _ U U | _ U | _ U U | _ U U | _ U U | _ U | Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed. _ U U | _ U | _ U U | _ U | _ U U|_ U Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October _ U U | _ U U |_ U | _ U U | _ U U |_ U | Seize them and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean. _ U U | _ U U | _ U U | _ U U | _ U U | _ U Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre. It is evident that one foot can be substituted for another if the accent is not changed. Since both the iambus and the anapest are accented on the last syllable, they may be interchanged. The trochee and the dactyl are both accented on the first syllable and may, therefore, be interchanged. There are some exceptions to the general rule that in substituting one foot for another the accented syllable must be kept in the same part of the foot. Occasionally a poem in which the prevailing foot is iambic has a trochee for the first foot of a line in order that it may begin with an accented syllable. At the beginning of a line the change of accent is scarcely noticeable. _ U | U _ | U _ |U _ | Over the rail my hand I trail. _ U | U _ | U _ | U _ | Silent the crumbling bridge we cross! But if the reader has once fallen into the swing of iambic verse, the substitution of a trochee will bring the accent at an unexpected place, interrupt the smooth flow of the rhythm, and produce a harsh and jarring effect. Such a change of accent is justified only when the sense of the verse leads the reader to expect the changed accent, or when the emphasis thus given to the sense of the poem more than compensates for the break in the rhythm produced by the change of accent. Another form of metrical variation is that in which there are too few or too many syllables in a foot. This generally occurs at the end of a line, but may occur at the beginning. If a syllable is added or omitted skillfully, the rhythm will be unbroken. When the feet are accented on the last syllable,--that is, when the verse is iambic or anapestic,--an extra syllable may be added at the end of a line. U _ |U U _ |U _ | U I stood on the bridge at midnight, U U _ | U _ |U U _ | As the clocks were striking the hour; U U _ | U _ | U _|U And the Moon rose o'er the city, U _ | U _ | U _ | Behind the dark church tower. --Longfellow. U _ | U _ |U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ | Girt round with rugged moun[tains], the fair Lake Constance lies, U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ |U _ | In her blue heart reflect[ed] shine back the starry skies; U _ | U _ | U _ | U _ |U _ | U _ | And watching each white cloud[let] float silently and slow, U _ | U _ | U _ | U _| U _ | U _| You think a piece of heav[en] lies on our earth below. --Adelaide A. Procter. In the second illustration the extra syllables have the same relative position in the metrical scheme as in the first, though they appear to be in the middle of the line. The pauses fill in the time and preserve the rhythm unbroken. When the feet are accented on the first syllable--as in trochaic or dactylic verse--a syllable may be omitted from the end of a line as in the second and fourth below. _ U U | _ U U | _ U U| _ U | Up with the lark in the first flush of morning, _ U U | _ U U | _ U U | _ | Ere the world wakes to its work or its play; _ U U| _ U U | _ U U | _ U | Off for a spin to the wide-stretching country, _ U U | _ U U | _ U U|_ | Far from the close, stifling city away. Sometimes we find it necessary to suppress a syllable in order to make the rhythm more nearly perfect. Syllables may be suppressed in two ways: by suppressing a vowel at the end of a word when the next word commences with a vowel; by suppressing a vowel within a word. The former method is termed elision, and the latter, slurring. U _ | U _ |U _ | U _ | U _ | Thou glorious mirror where the Almighty's form U U _ U |U _| U _ | U Glasses itself in tempests. --Byron. An accented syllable often takes the place of an entire foot. This occurs most frequently at the end of a line, but it is sometimes found at the beginning. Occasionally whole lines are formed in this way. If a pause or rest is made, the rhythm will be unbroken. u _ | u _ | u _ | Break, break, break, U U _ | U _ | U _ | On thy cold gray stones, O sea! U U _ | U U _ | U _|U And I would that my tongue could utter U _ | U U _ |U _| The thoughts that arise in me. --Tennyson. We frequently find verses in which a syllable is lacking at the close of the line; we also find many verses in which an extra syllable is added. Verse that contains the number of syllables required by its meter is said to be acatalectic; if it contains more than the required number of syllables, it is said to be hypercatalectic; and if it lacks a syllable, it is termed catalectic. It is difficult to tell whether a line has the required number of syllables or not when it is taken by itself; but by comparing it with the line prevailing in the rest of the stanza we are enabled to tell whether it is complete or not. Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_ is written in iambic pentameter verse. Knowing this, we can detect the hypercatalectic and catalectic lines. U _| U _ | U _| U _| U _ | You all did see that on the Lupercal U _ | U _| U _ |U _| U _| I thrice presented him a kingly crown U _| U _ |U _ | U _ | U _| U Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? U _| U _ | U _ | U _ | U Yet Brutus says he was ambitious. --Shakespeare. +112. Cesura.+--Besides the pauses caused by rests or silences there is the cesural pause which needs to be considered in reading verse. A cesura is a pause determined by the sense. It coincides with some break in the sense. It is found in different parts of the verse and may be entirely lacking. Its observance does not noticeably interfere with the rhythm. In the following selection it is marked thus: ||. U _ | U _ | U _| U _ | The sun came up || upon the left, _ U| U _ | U _ | Out of the sea || came he; U _| U _ | U _| U _| And he shone bright, || and on the right U _ | U_ | U _ | Went down || into the sea --Coleridge. Lives of great men || all remind us We can make our lives || sublime, And, departing, || leave behind us, Footprints || on the sands of time. --Longfellow. Read the selections on page 197 so as to indicate the position of the cesural pauses. +113. Scansion.+--Scansion is the separation of a line into the feet which compose it. In order to scan a line we must determine the rhythmic movement of it. The rhythmic movement determines the accented syllables. Sometimes in scanning, merely the accented syllables are marked. Usually the whole metrical scheme is indicated, as in the examples on page 199. EXERCISE Scan the following selections. Note substitutions and elusions. 1. The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is gone. --Francis W. Bourdillon. 2. Laugh, and the world laughs with you, Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. --Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 3. Hear the robin in the rain, Not a note does he complain. But he fills the storm refrain With music of his own. --Charles Coke Woode. 4. The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly branch shone on the old back wall And the baron's retainers are blithe and gay, And keeping their Christmas holiday. --Thomas Haynes Bagley. +114. Rhyme.+--Rhyme is a regular recurrence of similar sounds. In a broad sense, it may include sounds either terminal or not, but as here used it refers to terminal sounds. Just as we expect a recurrence of accent in a line, so may we expect a recurrence of similar sounds at the end of certain lines of poetry. The interval between the rhymes may be of different lengths in different poems, but when the interval is once established, it should be followed throughout the poem. A rhyme out of place jars upon the rhythmic perfection of a stanza just as an accent out of place interferes with the rhythm of the verse. Not only should the rhymes occur at expected places, but they should be the expected rhymes; that is, real rhymes. If we are expecting a word which will rhyme with _blossom_ and find _bosom_, or if we are expecting a rhyme for _breath_ and find _beneath_, the effect is unpleasant. The rhymes named above are based on spelling, while a real rhyme is based on sound. A correct rhyme should have precisely the same vowel sounds and the final consonants should be the same, but the initial consonant should be different. For example: _death, breath; home, roam; tongue, young; debating, relating_. Notice the arrangement of the rhymes in the following selections:-- 1. My soul to-day is far away, Sailing the Vesuvian Bay; My winged boat, a bird afloat, Swims round the purple peaks remote. --T. Buchanan Read. 2. I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down the valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. --Tennyson. 3. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; But the old three-cornered hat And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer! --Holmes. 4. The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story; The long light shakes across the lakes And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying; Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. --Tennyson. 5. Breathes there a man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering in a foreign strand! If such there be, go mark him well: For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim: Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. --Scott. +115. Blank Verse.+--When rhyme is omitted, we have blank verse. This is the most dignified of all kinds of verse, and is, therefore, appropriate for epic and dramatic poetry, where it is chiefly found. Most blank verse makes use of the iambic pentameter measure, but we find many exceptions. Read the following examples of blank verse so as to show the rhythm:-- 1. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not like the quarry slave at night Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach the grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. --Bryant. 2. I stood upon the steps-- The last who left the door--and there I found The lady and her friend. The elder turned And with a cordial greeting took my hand, And rallied me on my forgetfulness. Her eyes, her smile, her manner, and her voice. Touched the quick springs of memory, and I spoke Her name. She was my mother's early friend Whose face I had not seen in all the years That had flown over us, since, from her door, I chased her lamb to where I found--myself. --Holland. +116. The Stanza.+--Some of our verse is continuous like Milton's _Paradise Lost_ or Shakespeare's plays, but much of it is divided into groups called stanzas. The lines or verses composing a stanza are bound together by definite principles of rhythm and rhyme. Usually stanzas of the same poem have the same structure, but stanzas of different poems show a variety of structure. Two of the most simple forms are the couplet and the triplet. They often form a part of a continuous poem, but they are occasionally found in divided poems. 1. The western waves of ebbing day Roll'd o'er the glen their level way. --Scott. 2. A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid; Her satin snood, her silken plaid, Her golden brooch such birth betray'd. --Scott. A stanza of four lines is called a quatrain. The lines of quatrains show a variety in the arrangement of their rhymes. The first two lines may rhyme with each other and the last two with each other; the first and fourth may rhyme and the second and third; or the rhymes may alternate. Notice the example on page 208, and also the following:-- 1. I ask not wealth, but power to take And use the things I have aright. Not years, but wisdom that shall make My life a profit and delight. --Phoebe Cary. 2. I count this thing to be grandly true: That a noble deed is a step toward God,-- Lifting the soul from the common sod To a purer air and a broader view. --Holland. A quatrain consisting of iambic pentameter verse with alternate rhymes is called an elegiac stanza. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds. --Gray. The Tennysonian stanza consists of four iambic tetrameter lines in which the first line rhymes with the fourth, and the second with the third. Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before. --Tennyson. Five and six line stanzas are found in a great variety. The following are examples:-- 1. We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. --Shelley. 2. And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring. Let them smile as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling. --Holmes. 3. The upper air burst into life; And a hundred fire flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about; And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between. --Coleridge. The Spenserian stanza consists of nine lines: the first eight are iambic pentameters, and the last line is an iambic hexameter or Alexandrine. Burns makes use of this stanza in _The Cotter's Saturday Night._ The following stanza from that poem shows the plan of the rhymes:-- O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And oh! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much beloved isle. EXERCISES _A._ Scan the following:-- Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home. --Wordsworth. Into the sunshine, Full of light, Leaping and flashing From morn to night! --Lowell. _B._ Name each verse in the following stanza:-- Hear the sledges with the bells-- Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight-- Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells-- From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. --Poe. +117. Kinds of Poetry.+-There are three general classes of poetry: narrative, lyric, and dramatic. _A. Narrative poetry_, as may be inferred from its name, relates events which may be either real or imaginary. Its chief varieties are the epic, the metrical romance or lesser epic, the tale, and the ballad. _An epic_ poem is an extended narrative of an elevated character that deals with heroic exploits which are frequently under supernatural control. This kind of poetry is characterized by the intricacy of plot, by the delineation of noble types of character, by its descriptive effects, by its elevated language, and by its seriousness of tone. The epic is considered as the highest effort of man's poetic genius. It is so difficult to produce an epic that but few literatures contain more than one. Homer's _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, Virgil's _Aeneid_, the German _Nibelungenlied_, the Spanish _Cid_, Dante's _Divine Comedy_, and Milton's _Paradise Lost_ are important epics found in different literatures. A _metrical romance_ or lesser epic is a narrative poem, shorter and less dignified than the epic. Longfellow's _Evangeline_ and Scott's _Marmion_ and _Lady of the Lake_ are examples of this kind of poetry. _A metrical tale is_ a narrative poem somewhat simpler and shorter than the metrical romance, but more complex than the ballad. Longfellow's _Tales of a Wayside Inn_, Tennyson's _Enoch Arden_, and Lowell's _Vision of Sir Launfal_ are examples of the tale. _A ballad_ is the shortest and most simple of all narrative poems. It relates but a single incident and has a very simple structure. In this kind of poetry the interest centers upon the incident rather than upon any beauty or elegance of language. Many of the Robin Hood Ballads are well known. Macaulay's _Lays of Ancient Rome_ and Longfellow's _Wreck of the Hesperus_ are other examples of the ballad. It may be well to note here that it is not always possible to draw definite lines between two different kinds of narrative poetry. In fact, there will sometimes be a difference of opinion as regards the classification. _B. Lyric poetry_ was the name originally applied to poetry that was to be sung to the accompaniment of the lyre, but now the name is often applied to poems that are not intended to be sung at all. Lyric poetry deals primarily with the feelings and emotions. Love, hate, jealousy, grief, hope, and praise are emotions that may be expressed in lyric poetry. Its chief varieties are the song, the ode, the elegy, and the sonnet. A _song_ is a short poem intended to be sung. Songs may be divided into sacred and secular. _Jerusalem, the Golden_, and _Lead, Kindly Light_, are examples of sacred songs. Secular songs may be patriotic, convivial, or sentimental. An _ode_ expresses exalted emotion and is more complex in structure than the song. Some of the best odes in our language are Dryden's _Ode to St. Cecilia_, Wordsworth's _Ode on Intimations of Immortality_, Keats's _Ode on a Grecian Urn_, Shelley's _Ode to a Skylark_, and Lowell's _Commemoration Ode_. An _elegy_ is a lyric pervaded by the feeling of grief or melancholy. Milton's _Lycidas_, Tennyson's _In Memoriam_, and Gray's _Elegy in a Country Churchyard_ are all noted elegies. A _sonnet_ is a lyric poem of fourteen lines which deals with a single idea or sentiment. It is not a stanza taken from a poem, but is a complete poem itself. In the Italian sonnet and those modeled after it, the emotional feeling rises through the first two quatrains, reaching its climax at or near the end of the eighth line, and then subsides through the two tercets which make up the remaining six lines. If the sentiment expressed does not adjust itself to this ebb and flow, it is not suitable for a sonnet. Milton's sonnet on his blindness is one of the best. Notice the emotional transition in the middle of the eighth line. This sonnet will also illustrate the fixed rhyme scheme:-- When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent, which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he, returning, chide; Doth God exact day labor, light denied? I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need, Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait. There is a form of sonnet called the Shakespearean which differs in its arrangement from the Italian sonnet. _C. Dramatic poetry_ relates the occurrence of human events, and is designed to be spoken on the stage. If the drama has an unhappy ending, it is _a tragedy_. As is becoming in such a theme, the language is dignified and impressive, and the whole appeals to our deeper emotions. If the drama has a happy conclusion, it is _a comedy_. Here the movement is quicker, the language less dignified, and the effort is to make the whole light and amusing. PART II Description, Narration, Exposition, and Argument have been treated in an elementary way in Part I. A more extensive treatment of each is given in Part II. It has been deemed undesirable to repeat in Part II many things which have been previously treated. The treatment of any one of the forms of discourse as given in Part II is not complete. By reference to the index all the sections treating of any phase of any one subject may be found. [Illustration: See page 224, _C._] VIII. DESCRIPTION +118. Description Defined.+--By means of our senses we gain a knowledge of the world. We see, hear, taste, smell, and feel; and the ideas so acquired are the fundamental elements of our knowledge, without which thinking would be impossible. It, therefore, happens that much of the language that we use has for its purpose the transmission to others of such ideas. Such writing is called description. We may, therefore, define description as that form of discourse which has for its purpose the formation of an image. As here used, the term _image_ applies to any idea presented by the senses. In a more limited sense it means the mental picture which is formed by aid of sight. It is for the purpose of presenting images of this kind that description is most often employed. It is most frequently concerned with images of objects seen, less frequently with sounds, and seldom with ideas arising through touch, taste, and smell. In this chapter, therefore, we shall consider chiefly the methods of using language for the purpose of arousing images of objects seen. +119. Order of Observation.+--In description we shall find it of advantage to use such language that the reader will form the image in the same way as he would form an image from actual observation. There is a customary and natural order of observation, and if we present our material in that same order, the mind more easily forms the desired image. Our first need in the study of description is to determine what this natural order of observation is. Look at the building across the street. Your _first_ impression is that of size, shape, and color. Almost instantly, but nevertheless _secondly_, you add certain details as to roof, door, windows, and surroundings. Further observation adds to the number of details, such as the size of the window panes or the pattern of the lattice work. Our first glance may assure us that we see a train, our second will tell us how many cars, our third will show us that each car is marked Michigan Central. The oftener we look or the longer we look, the greater is the number of details of which we become conscious. Any number of illustrations will show that we first see the general outline, and after that the details. We do not observe the details one by one and then combine them into an object, but we first see the object as a whole, and our first impression becomes more vivid as we add detail after detail. Following this natural order of observation a description should begin with a sentence that will give the reader a general impression of the whole. Notice the beginnings of the following selections. After reading the italicized sentence in each, consider the image that it has caused you to form. The door opened upon the main or living room. _It was a long apartment with low ceiling and walls of hewn logs chinked and plastered and all beautifully whitewashed and clean._ The tables, chairs, and benches were all homemade. On the floor were magnificent skins of wolf, bear, musk ox, and mountain goat. The walls were decorated with heads and horns of deer and mountain sheep, eagle's wings, and a beautiful breast of a loon, which Gwen had shot and of which she was very proud. At one end of the room a huge stone fireplace stood radiant in its summer decorations of ferns and grasses and wildflowers. At the other end a door opened into another room, smaller, and richly furnished with relics of former grandeur. --Connor: _The Sky Pilot_. _The stranger was of middle height, loosely knit and thin, with a cunning, brutal face._ He had a bullet-shaped head, with fine, soft, reddish brown hair; a round, stubbly beard shot with gray; and small, beady eyes set close together. He was clothed in an old, black, grotesquely fitting cutaway coat, with coarse trousers tucked into his boot tops. A worn visored cloth cap was on his head. In his right hand he carried an old muzzle-loading shotgun. --George Kibbe Turner: _Across the State_ ("McClure's"). +120. The Fundamental Image.+--The first impression of the object as a whole is called the fundamental image. The beginning of a description should cause the reader to form a correct general outline, which will include the main characteristics of the object described. While the fundamental image lacks definiteness and exactness, yet it must be such that it shall not need to be revised as we add the details. If one should begin a description by saying, "Opposite the church there is a large two-story, brick house with a conservatory on the left," the reader would form at once a mental picture including the essential features of the house. Further statements about the roof, the windows, the doors, the porch, the yard, and the fence, would each add something to the picture until it was complete. The impression with which the reader started would be added to, but not otherwise changed. But if we should conclude the description with the statement, "This house was distinguished from its neighbors by the fact that it was not of the usual rectangular form, but was octagonal in shape," the reader would find that the image which he had formed would need to be entirely changed. It is evident that if the word _octagonal_ is to appear at all, it must be at the beginning. Care must be taken to place all the words that affect the fundamental image in the sentence that gives the general characteristics of that which we are describing. Hawthorne begins _The House of the Seven Gables_ as follows:-- Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon street; the house is the old Pyncheon house; and an elm tree, of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon elm. On my occasional visits to the town aforesaid, I seldom failed to turn down Pyncheon street, for the sake of passing through the shadow of these two antiquities,--the great elm tree and the weather-beaten edifice. Later he gives a detailed description of the house on the morning of its completion as follows:-- Maule's lane, or Pyncheon street, as it were now more decorous to call it, was thronged, at the appointed hour, as with a congregation on its way to church. All, as they approached, looked upward at the imposing edifice, which was henceforth to assume its rank among the habitations of mankind. There it rose, a little withdrawn from the line of the street, but in pride, not modesty. Its whole visible exterior was ornamented with quaint figures, conceived in the grotesqueness of a Gothic fancy, and drawn or stamped in the glittering plaster, composed of lime, pebbles, and bits of glass, with which the woodwork of the walls was overspread. On every side the seven gables pointed sharply towards the sky, and presented the aspect of a whole sisterhood of edifices, breathing through the spiracles of one great chimney. The many lattices, with their small, diamond-shaped panes, admitted the sunlight into hall and chamber, while, nevertheless, the second story, projecting far over the base, and itself retiring beneath the third, threw a shadowy and thoughtful gloom into the lower rooms. Carved globes of wood were affixed under the jutting stories. Little spiral rods of iron beautified each of the seven peaks. On the triangular portion of the gable, that fronted next the street, was a dial, put up that very morning, and on which the sun was still marking the passage of the first bright hour in a history that was not destined to be all so bright. All around were scattered shavings, chips, shingles, and broken halves of bricks; these, together with the lately turned earth, on which the grass had not begun to grow, contributed to the impression of strangeness and novelty proper to a house that had yet its place to make among men's daily interests. EXERCISES _A._ Select the sentence or part of a sentence which gives the fundamental image in each of the following selections:-- 1. It was a big, smooth-stone-faced house, product of the 'Seventies, frowning under an outrageously insistent Mansard, capped by a cupola, and staring out of long windows overtopped with "ornamental" slabs. Two cast-iron deer, painted death-gray, twins of the same mold, stood on opposite sides of the front walk, their backs toward it and each other, their bodies in profile to the street, their necks bent, however, so that they gazed upon the passer-by--yet gazed without emotion. Two large, calm dogs guarded the top of the steps leading to the front door; they also were twins and of the same interesting metal, though honored beyond the deer by coats of black paint and shellac. --Booth Tarkington: _The Conquest of Canaan_ ("Harper's"). 2. At the first glance, Phoebe saw an elderly personage, in an old-fashioned dressing gown of faded damask, and wearing his gray or almost white hair of an unusual length. It quite overshadowed his forehead, except when he thrust it back, and stared vaguely about the room. After a very brief inspection of his face, it was easy to conceive that his footstep must necessarily be such an one as that which, slowly, and with as indefinite an aim as a child's first journey across a floor, had just brought him hitherward. Yet there were no tokens that his physical strength might not have sufficed for a free and determined gait. It was the spirit of a man that could not walk. The expression of his countenance--while, notwithstanding, it had the light of reason in it-- seemed to waver, and glimmer, and nearly to die away, and feebly to recover itself again. It was like a flame which we see twinkling among half-extinguished embers; we gaze at it more intently than if it were a positive blaze, gushing vividly upward--more intently, but with a certain impatience, as if it ought either to kindle itself into satisfactory splendor, or be at once extinguished. --Hawthorne: _The House of the Seven Gables_. 3. One of the best known of the flycatchers all over the country is the kingbird. He is a little smaller than a robin, and all in brownish black, with white breast. He has also white tips to his tail feathers, which look very fine when he spreads it out wide in flying. Among the head feathers of the kingbird is a small spot of orange color. This is called in the books a "concealed patch," because it is seldom seen, it is so hidden by the dark feathers. --Mary Rogers Miller: _The Brook Book_. (Copyright, 1902, by Doubleday, Page and Co.) Notice the use of a comparison in establishing a correct fundamental image in example 3. _B._ Select five buildings with which the members of the class are familiar. Write a single sentence for each, giving the fundamental image. Read these sentences to the class. Let them determine for which building each is written. _C._ Notice the pictures on page 218. Write a single sentence for each, giving the fundamental image. +Theme LII.+--_Write a paragraph, describing something with which you are familiar._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. The county court house. 2. The new church. 3. My neighbor's house. 4. Where we go fishing. 5. A neighboring lake. 6. A cozy nook. (Underscore the sentence that gives the fundamental image. Will the reader get from it at once a correct general outline of the object to be described? Will he need to change the fundamental image as your description proceeds?) +121. Point of View.+--What we shall see first depends upon the point of view. Seen from one position, an object or a landscape will present a different appearance from that which it will present when viewed from another position. A careful writer will give that fundamental image that would come from actual observation if the reader were looking at the scene described from the point of view chosen by the writer. He will not include details that cannot be seen from that position even though he knows that they exist. Notice that the following descriptions include only that which can be seen from the place indicated in the italicized phrases:-- _Forward from the bridge_ he beheld a landscape of wide valleys and irregular heights, with groves and lakes and fanciful houses linked together by white paths and shining streams. The valleys were spread below, that the river might be poured upon them for refreshment in day of drought, and they were as green carpets figured with beds and fields of flowers and flecked with flocks of sheep white as balls of snow; and the voices of shepherds following the flocks were heard afar. As if to tell him of the pious inscription of all he beheld, the altars out under the open sky seemed countless, each with a white-gowned figure attending it, while processions in white went slowly hither and thither between them; and the smoke of the altars half risen hung collected in pale clouds over the devoted places. Wallace: _Ben-Hur_. (Copyright, 1880. Harper and Bros.) The house stood unusually near the river, facing eastward, and standing four-square, with an immense veranda about its sides, and a flight of steps in front, spreading broadly downward, as we open our arms to a child. _From the veranda_ nine miles of river were seen; and in their compass near at hand, the shady garden full of rare and beautiful flowers; farther away broad fields of cane and rice, and the distant quarters of the slaves, and on the horizon everywhere a dark belt of cypress forest. --Cable: _Old Creole Days_. +122. Selection of Details Affected by Point of View.+--A skillful writer will not ask his reader to perform impossible feats. We cannot see the leaves upon a tree a mile away, and so should not describe them. The finer effects and more minute details should be included only when our chosen point of view brings us near enough to appreciate them. In the selection below, Stevenson tells only as much about Swanston cottage as can be seen at a distance of six miles. So saying she carried me around the battlements _towards the opposite or southern side of the fortress and indeed to a bastion_ almost immediately overlooking the place of our projected flight. Thence we had a view of some foreshortened suburbs at our feet, and beyond of a green, open, and irregular country rising towards the Pentland Hills. The face of one of these summits (say two leagues from where we stood) is marked with a procession of white scars. And to this she directed my attention. "You see those marks?" she said. "We call them the Seven Sisters. Follow a little lower with your eye, and you will see a fold of the hill, the tops of some trees, and a tail of smoke out of the midst of them. That is Swanston cottage, where my brother and I are living." --Stevenson: _St. Ives_. (Copyright, 1897. Charles Scribner's Sons.) Notice in the selection below that for objects _near at hand_ details so small as the lizard's eye are given, but that these details are not given, when we are asked to observe things far away. Slow though their march had been, by this time _they had come to the end of the avenue, and were in the wide circular sweep before the castle._ They stopped here and stood looking off over the garden, with its somber cypresses and bright beds of geranium, down upon the valley, dim and luminous in a mist of gold. Great, heavy, fantastic-shaped clouds, pearl-white with pearl-gray shadows, piled themselves up against the scintillant dark blue of the sky. In and out among the rose trees _near at hand_, where the sun was hottest, heavily flew, with a loud bourdonnement, the cockchafers promised by Annunziata,--big, blundering, clumsy, the scorn of their light-winged and businesslike competitors, the bees. Lizards lay immobile as lizards cast in bronze, only their little glittering, watchful pin heads of eyes giving sign of life. And of course the blackcaps never for a moment left off singing. --Henry Habland: _My Friend Prospero_ ("McClure's"). _We round a corner of the valley, and beyond, far below us, looms the town of Sorata. From this distance_ the red tile roofs, the soft blue, green, and yellow of its stuccoed walls, look indescribably fresh and grateful. A closer inspection will probably dissipate this impression; it will be squalid and dirty, the river-stone paving of its street will be deep in the accumulation of filth, dirty Indian children will swarm in them with mangy dogs and bedraggled ducks, the gay frescoes of its walls will peel in ragged patches, revealing the 'dobe of their base, and the tile roofs will be cracked and broken. But from the heights at this distance and in the warm glow of the afternoon sun it looks like a dainty fairy village glistening in a magic splendor against the Titanic setting of the Andes. --Charles Johnson Post: _Across the Highlands of the World_ ("Harper's"). Come on, sir; here's the place. Stand still. How fearful And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down Hangs one that gathers sampire, dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. The fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge That on the unnumber'd idle pebble chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more, Lest my brain turn and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. --Shakespear: _King Lear_ +123. Implied Point of View.+--Often the point of view is not specifically stated, but the language of the description shows where the observer is located. Often such an implied point of view gives a delicate touch to a description that could not be obtained by direct statements. In which of the following selections is the point of view merely implied? 1. Thus pondering and dreaming, he came by the road down a gentle hill with close woods on either hand; and so into the valley with a swift river flowing through it; and on the river a mill. So white it stood among the trees, and so merrily whirred the wheel as the water turned it, and so bright blossomed the flowers in the garden, that Martimor had joy of the sight, for it reminded him of his own country. --Henry Van Dyke: _The Blue Flower_. (Copyright, 1902. Charles Scribner's Sons.) 2. There is an island off a certain part of the coast of Maine,--a little rocky island, heaped and tumbled together as if Dame Nature had shaken down a heap of stones at random from her apron, when she had finished making the larger islands, which lie between it and the mainland. At one end, the shoreward end, there is a tiny cove, and a bit of silver sand beach, with a green meadow beyond it, and a single great pine; but all the rest is rocks, rocks. At the farther end the rocks are piled high, like a castle wall, making a brave barrier against the Atlantic waves; and on top of this cairn rises the lighthouse, rugged and sturdy as the rocks themselves; but painted white, and with its windows shining like great, smooth diamonds. This is Light Island. --Laura E. Richards: _Captain January_. +124. Changing Point of View.+--We cannot see the four sides of a house from the same place, though we may wish to have our reader know how each side looks. It is, therefore, necessary to change our point of view. It is immaterial whether the successive points of view are named or merely implied, providing the reader has due notice that we have changed from one to the other, and that for each we describe only what can be seen from that position. A description of a cottage that by its wording leads us to think ourselves inside of the building and then tells about the yard would be defective. Notice the changing point of view in the following:-- At long distance, looking over the blue waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence in clear weather, you might think that you saw a lonely sea gull, snow-white, perching motionless on a cobble of gray rock. Then, as your boat drifted in, following the languid tide and the soft southern breeze, you would perceive that the cobble of rock was a rugged hill with a few bushes and stunted trees growing in the crevices, and that the gleaming speck near the summit must be some kind of a building,--if you were on the coast of Italy or Spain you would say a villa or a farmhouse. Then as you floated still farther north and drew nearer to the coast, the desolate hill would detach itself from the mainland and become a little mountain isle, with a flock of smaller islets clustering around it as a brood of wild ducks keep close to their mother, and with deep water, nearly two miles wide, flowing between it and the shore; while the shining speck on the seaward side stood clearly as a low, whitewashed dwelling with a sturdy, round tower at one end, crowned with a big eight-sided lantern--a solitary lighthouse. --Henry Van Dyke: _The Keeper of the Light_. (Copyright, 1905. Charles Scribner's Sons.) +125. Place of Point of View in Paragraph.+--The point of view may be expressed or only implied or wholly omitted, but in any case the reader must assume one in order to form a clear and accurate image. Beginners will find that they can best cause their readers to form the desired images by stating a point of view. When the point of view is stated it must of necessity come early in the paragraph. We have already learned that the beginning of a description should present the fundamental image. For this reason the first sentence of a description frequently includes both the point of view and the fundamental image. EXERCISES _A._ Consider the following selections with reference to-- (_a_) The point of view. (_b_) The fundamental image. (_c_) The completeness of the images which you have formed (see Sections 26, 27). 1. The Lunardi [balloon], mounting through a stagnant calm in a line almost vertical, had pierced the morning mists, and now swam emancipated in a heaven of exquisite blue. Below us by some trick of eyesight, the country had grown concave, its horizon curving up like the rim of a shallow bowl--a bowl heaped, in point of fact, with sea fog, but to our eyes with a froth delicate and dazzling as a whipped syllabub of snow. Upon it the traveling shadow of the balloon became no shadow, but a stain; an amethyst (you might call it) purged of all grosser properties than color and lucency. At times thrilled by no perceptible wind, rather by the pulse of the sun's rays, the froth shook and parted; and then behold, deep in the crevasses vignetted and shining, an acre or two of the earth of man's business and fret--tilled slopes of the Lothians, ships dotted on the Firth, the capital like a hive that some child had smoked--the ear of fancy could almost hear it buzzing. --Stevenson: _St. Ives_. (Copyright, 1897. Charles Scribner's Sons.) 2. When Aswald and Corinne had gained the top of the Capitol, she showed him the Seven Hills and the city, bound first by Mount Palatinus, then by the walls of Servius Tullius, which inclose the hills, and by those of Aurelian, which still surround the greatest part of Rome. Mount Palatinus once contained all Rome, but soon did the imperial palace fill the space that had sufficed for a nation. The Seven Hills are far less lofty now than when they deserted the title of steep mountains, modern Rome being forty feet higher than its predecessor, and the valleys which separated them almost filled up by ruins; but what is still more strange, two heaps of shattered vases have formed new hills, Cestario and Testacio. Thus, in time, the very refuse of civilization levels the rock with the plain, effacing in the moral, as in the material world, all the pleasing inequalities of nature. --Madame De Stael: _Corinne: Italy_. _B._--Select five descriptions from the following books and note whether each has a point of view expressed or implied:-- Cooper: Last of the Mohicans. Scott: Ivanhoe. Scott: Lady of the Lake. Irving: Sketch Book. Burroughs: Wake Robin. Van Dyke: The Blue Flower. Howells: The Rise of Silas Lapham. Muir: Our National Parks. Kate Douglas Wiggin: Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. +Theme LIII.+--_Write a descriptive paragraph beginning with a point of view and a fundamental image._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. The crossroads inn. 2. A historical building. 3. The shoe factory. 4. The gristmill. 5. The largest store in town. 6. The union station. (In your description underscore the sentence giving the point of view. Can you improve the description by using a different point of view? Will the reader form at once a correct general outline? Will the entire description enable the reader to form a clear and accurate image?) +126. Clear Seeing.+-Clear statement depends upon clear seeing. Not only must we choose an advantageous point of view, but we must be able to reproduce what can be seen from that location. We may write a description while we are looking at the object, but it is frequently convenient to do the writing when the object is not visible. Oral descriptions are nearly always made without having the object at hand. When we attempt to describe we examine not the object itself, but our mental image of it. It is evident that at least the essential features of this mental picture must stand out clearly and definitely, or we shall be unable to make our description accurate. The habit of accurate observation is a desirable acquisition, and our ability in this direction can be improved by effort. It is not the province of this book to provide a series of exercises which shall strengthen habits of accurate observation. Many of your studies, particularly the sciences, devote much attention to training the observing powers, and will furnish many suitable exercises. A few have been suggested below merely to emphasize the point that every successful effort in description must be preceded by a definite exercise in clear seeing. EXERCISE 1. Walk rapidly past a building. Form a mental picture of it. Write down as many of the details as you can. Now look at the building again and determine what you have left out. 2. Call to mind some building with which you are familiar. Write a list of the details that you recall. Now visit the building and see what important ones you have omitted. 3. While looking at some scene make a note of the important details. Lay this list away for a day. Then recall the scene. After picturing the scene as vividly as you can, read your notes. Do they add anything to your picture? 4. Make a list of the things on some desk that you cannot see but with which you are familiar; for example, the teacher's desk. At the first opportunity notice how accurate your list is. 5. Look for some time at the stained glass windows of a church or at the wall paper of the room. What patterns do you notice that you did not see at first? What colors? 6. Make a list of the objects visible from your bedroom window. When you go home notice what you have omitted. 7. Practice observation contests similar to the following: Let two or more persons pass a store window. Each shall then make a list of what the window contains. Compare lists with one another. +Theme LIV.+--_Write a description of some dwelling._ (Select a house that you can see on the way home. Choose a point of view and notice carefully what can be seen from it. When you are ready to write, form as vivid a mental picture of the house as you can. Write the sentence that gives the fundamental image. Add such of the details as will enable the reader to form an accurate image.) +127. Selection of Essential Details.+--After deciding upon a point of view and such general characteristics as are essential to the forming of a correct outline of the object to be described, we must next give our attention to the selection of the details. If our description has been properly begun, this general outline will not be changed, but each succeeding phrase or sentence will add to the clearness and distinctness of the picture. Our first impression of a house may include windows, but the mention of them later will bring them out clearly on our mental picture much as the details appear when one is developing a negative in photography. If the peculiarities of an object are such as to effect its general form, they need to be stated in the opening sentence; but when the peculiar or distinguishing characteristic does not affect the form, it may be introduced later. If we say, "On the corner across the street from the post office there is a large, two-story, red brick store," the reader can form at once a general picture of such a store. Only those things which give a general outline have been included. As yet nothing has been mentioned to distinguish the store from any other similar one. If some following sentence should be, "Though not wider, it yet presents a more imposing appearance than its neighbors, because the door is placed at one side, thus making room for a single wide display window instead of two stuffy, narrow ones," a detail has been added which, though not changing the general outline, makes the picture clearer and at the same time emphasizes the distinguishing feature of this particular store. EXERCISES 1. Observe your neighbor's barn. What would you select as its characteristic feature? 2. Take a rapid glance at some stranger whom you meet. What did you notice most vividly? 3. In what respect does the Methodist church in your city differ from the other church buildings? 4. Does your pet dog differ from others of the same breed in appearance? In actions? +Theme LV.+--_Write a descriptive paragraph, using one of the following subjects:_-- 1. A mountain view. 2. An omnibus. 3. A fort. 4. A lighthouse. 5. A Dutch windmill. 6. A bend in the river. 7. A peculiar structure. 8. The picture on this page. (Underscore the sentence that pictures the details most essential to the description. Consider the unity of your paragraph. Section 81.) [Illustration] +128. Selection and Subordination of Minor Details.+--In many descriptions the minor details are wholly omitted, and in all descriptions many that might have been included have been omitted. A proper number of such details adds interest and clearness to the images; too many but serve to render the whole obscure. If properly selected and effectively presented, minor details add much to the beauty or usefulness of a description, but if strung together in short sentences, the effect may be both tiresome and confusing. A mere catalogue of facts is not a good description. They must be arranged so that those which are the more important shall have the greater prominence, while those of less importance shall be properly subordinated. Often minor details may be stated in a word or phrase inserted in the sentence which gives the general view. Notice the italicized portion of the following: "Opposite the church, _and partly screened by the scraggly evergreens of a broad, unkempt lawn_, there is a large, octagonal, brick house, with a conservatory on the left." This arrangement adds to the general view and gives a better result than would be obtained by describing the lawn in a separate sentence. Often a single adjective adds some element to a description more effectively than can be done with a whole sentence. Notice how much is added by the use of _scraggly_ and _unkempt_. EXERCISES Make a careful study of the following selections with reference to the way in which the minor details are presented. Can any of them be improved by re-arranging them? 1. At night, as I look from my windows over Kassim Pasha, I never tire of that dull, soft coloring, green and brown, in which the brown of roofs and walls is hardly more than a shading of the green of the trees. There is the lonely curve of the hollow, with its small, square, flat houses of wood; and above, a sharp line of blue-black cypresses on the spine of the hill; then the long desert plain, with its sandy road, shutting in the horizon. Mists thicken over the valley, and wipe out its colors before the lights begin to glimmer out of it. Below, under my windows, are the cypresses of the Little Field of the Dead, vast, motionless, different every night. Last night each stood clear, tall, apart; to-night they huddle together in the mist, and seem to shudder. The sunset was brief, and the water has grown dull, like slate. Stamboul fades to a level mass of smoky purple, out of which a few minarets rise black against a gray sky with bands of orange fire. Last night, after a golden sunset, a fog of rusty iron came down, and hung poised over the jagged level of the hill. The whole mass of Stamboul was like black smoke; the water dim gray, a little flushed, and then like pure light, lucid, transparent, every ship and every boat sharply outlined in black on its surface; the boats seemed to crawl like flies on a lighted pane. --Arthur Symons: _Constantinople: An Impression_ ("Harper's"). 2. The boy was advancing up the road, carrying a half-filled pail of milk. He was a child of perhaps ten years, exceedingly frail and thin, with a drawn, waxen face, and sick, colorless lips and ears. On his head he wore a thick plush cap, and coarse, heavy shoes upon his feet. A faded coat, too long in the arms, drooped from his shoulders, and long, loose overalls of gray jeans broke and wrinkled about his slender ankles. --George Kibbe Turner: _Across the State_ ("McClure's"). 3. They met few people abroad, even on passing from the retired neighborhood of the House of the Seven Gables into what was ordinarily the more thronged and busier portion of the town. Glistening sidewalks, with little pools of rain, here and there, along their unequal surface; umbrellas displayed ostentatiously in the shop windows, as if the life of trade had concentered itself in that one article; wet leaves of the horse-chestnut or elm trees, torn off untimely by the blast, and scattered along the public way; an unsightly accumulation of mud in the middle of the street, which perversely grew the more unclean for its long and laborious washing;--these were the more definable points of a very somber picture. In the way of movement, and human life, there was the hasty rattle of a cab or coach, its driver protected by a water-proof cap over his head and shoulders; the forlorn figure of an old man, who seemed to have crept out of some subterranean sewer, and was stooping along the kennel, and poking the wet rubbish with a stick, in quest of rusty nails; a merchant or two, at the door of the post office, together with an editor, and a miscellaneous politician, awaiting a dilatory mail; a few visages of retired sea captains at the window of an insurance office, looking out vacantly at the vacant street, blaspheming at the weather, and fretting at the dearth as well of public news as local gossip. What a treasure trove to these venerable quidnuncs, could they have guessed the secret which Hepzibah and Clifford were carrying along with them! --Hawthorne: _The House of the Seven Gables_. +Theme LVI.+--_Write a description of one of the following:_-- 1. A steamboat. 2. An orchard. 3. A colonial mansion. 4. A wharf. 5. A stone quarry. 6. A shop. (Consider what you have written with reference to the point of view, fundamental image, and essential details. After these have been arranged to suit you, notice the way in which the minor details have been introduced. Have you given undue prominence to any? Can a single adjective or phrase be substituted for a whole sentence? Think of the image which your words will produce in the mind of the reader. Consider your theme with reference to unity. Section 81.) +129. Arrangement of Details.+--The quality of a description depends as much upon the arrangement of the material as upon the selection. Under paragraph development we have discussed the necessity of arranging the details with reference to their natural position in space (see Sections 47 and 86). Such an arrangement is the most desirable one and should be departed from only with good reason. Such departures may, however, be made, as shown in the following selection:-- A pretty picture the lad made as he lay there dreaming over his earthly possessions--a pretty picture in the shade of the great elm, that sultry morning of August, three quarters of a century ago. The presence of the crutch showed there was something sad about it; and so there was; for if you had glanced at the little bare brown foot, set toes upward on the curbstone, you would have discovered that the fellow to it was missing-- cut off about two inches above the ankle. And if this had caused you to throw a look of sympathy at his face, something yet sadder must long have held your attention. Set jauntily on the back of his head was a weather-beaten dark blue cloth cap, the patent leather frontlet of which was gone; and beneath the ragged edge of this there fell down over his forehead and temples and ears a tangled mass of soft yellow hair, slightly curling. His eyes were large and of a blue to match the depths of a calm sky above the treetops: the long lashes which curtained them were brown; his lips were red, his nose delicate and fine, and his cheek tanned to the color of ripe peaches. It was a singularly winning face, intelligent, frank, not describable. On it now rested a smile, half joyous, half sad, as though his mind was full of bright hopes, the realization of which was far away. From the neck fell the wide collar of a white cotton shirt, clean but frayed at the elbows, and open and buttonless down to his bosom. Over this he wore an old-fashioned satin waistcoat of a man, also frayed and buttonless. His dress was completed by a pair of baggy tow breeches, held up by a single tow suspender fastened to big brown horn buttons. --James Lane Allen: _Flute and Violin_. (Copyright, 1892, Harper and Brothers.) The details are not stated with reference to their natural position in space, but they are given in the probable order of observation. If we were to look upon such a boy, the crutch would attract our attention and would lead us to look at once for the reason why a crutch was needed. The writer skillfully uses the sympathy thus aroused as a means of transition to the face. In the remainder of the description the natural position in space is closely followed. +Theme LVII.+-_Write a description of one of the following:_-- 1. The bayou. 2. Looking down the mountain. 3. Looking up the mountain. 4. The floorwalker. 5. An old-fashioned rig. 6. A house said to be haunted. 7. The deacon. (Consider the arrangement of details with reference to their position in space. Consider your paragraphs with reference to coherence and emphasis. Sections 82 and 83.) +130. Effectiveness in Description.+--Every part of a description should aid in rendering it effective, and this effectiveness is as much the purpose of the principles previously discussed as it is of those which follow. This paragraph is inserted here to separate more or less definitely those things which can be done under direction from those which cannot be determined by rule. Up to this point emphasis has been laid upon the clear presentation of a mental image as the object of description. But the clear presentation of mental images is not all there is to description. A point of view, a fundamental image, a judicious selection of essential and minor details and the relating of them with reference to their natural position in space, may set forth an image clearly and yet fail to be satisfactory as a description. For the practical affairs of life it may be sufficient to limit ourselves to clear images set forth barely and sparely, but there is a pleasure and a profit in using the subtler arts of language, in placing a word here or a phrase there that shall give a touch of beauty or a flash of suggestiveness and so save our descriptions from the commonplace. It is to these less easily demonstrated methods of giving strength and beauty that we wish now to turn our attention. +131. Word Selection.+--The effectiveness of our description will depend largely upon our right choice of words. If our range of vocabulary is limited, the possibility of effective description is correspondingly limited. Only when our working vocabulary contains many words may we hope to choose with ease the one most suitable for the effective expression of the idea we wish to convey. To prepare a list of words that may apply and then attempt to write a theme that shall make use of them is a mechanical process of little value. The idea we wish to express should call up the word that exactly expresses it. If our ideas are not clear or our vocabulary is limited, we may be satisfied with the trite and commonplace; but if our experience has been broad or our reading extended, we may have at command the word which, because it is just the right one, gives individuality and force to our phrasing. Every one is familiar with dogs, and has in his vocabulary many words which he applies to them, but a reading of one or two good dog stories, such as _Bob, Son of Battle_, or _The Call of the Wild_, will show how wide is the range of such words and how much the description is enhanced by their careful use. EXERCISE Consider the following selections with reference to the choice of words which add to the effectiveness of the descriptions:-- 1. She was a little, brown, thin, almost skinny woman with big, rolling, violet-blue eyes and the sweetest manners in the world. 2. The sounds and the straits and the sea with its plump, sleepy islands lay north and east and south. 3. The mists of the Cuchullins are not fat, dull, and still, like lowland and inland mists, but haggard, and streaming from the black peaks, and full of gusty lines. We saw them first from the top of Beimna-Caillach, a red, round-headed mountain hard by Bradford, in the isle of Skye. Shortly after noon the rain came up from the sea and drew long delicate gray lines against the cliffs. It came up licking and lisping over the surface of Cornisk, and drove us to the lee of rocks and the shelter of our ponchos, to watch the mists drifting, to listen to the swell and lull of the wind and the patter of the cold rain. There were glimpses now and then of the inner Cuchullins, a fragment of ragged sky line, the sudden jab of a black pinnacle through the mist, the open mouth of a gorge steaming with mist. We climbed the great ridge, at length, of rock and wet heath that separates Cornisk from Glen Sligachan, slowly through the fitful rain and driving cloud, and saw Sgurr-nan-Gillian, sharp, black, and pitiless, the northernmost peak and sentinel of the Cuchullins. The yellow trail could be seen twisting along the flat, empty glen. Seven miles away was a white spot, the Sligachan Hotel. I think it must be the dreariest glen in Scotland. The trail twists in a futile manner, and, after all, is mainly bog holes and rolling rocks. The Red Hills are on the right, rusty, reddish, of the color of dried blood, and gashed with sliding bowlders. Their heads seem beaten down, a Helot population, and the Cuchullins stand back like an army of iron conquerors. The Red Hills will be a vanished race one day, and the Cuchullins remain. Arthur Colton: _The Mists o' Skye_ ("Harper's"). +132. Additional Aids to Effectiveness.+--Comparison and figures of speech not only aid in making our picture clear and vivid, but they may add a spice and flavor to our language, which counts for much in the effectiveness and beauty of our description. Notice the following descriptions:-- He was a mongoose, rather like a little cat in his fur and his tail, but quite like a weasel in his head and his habits. His eyes and the end of his restless nose were pink; he could scratch himself anywhere he pleased, with any leg, front or back, that he chose to use; he could fluff up his tail till it looked like a bottle brush, and his war cry as he scuttled through the long grass was Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tikk. --Kipling: _Jungle Book_. Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with short stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of his saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers' legs; he carried his whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and, as his horse jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip of forehead might be called; and the skirts of his black coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and his steed, as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in broad daylight. --Irving: _Legend of Sleepy Hollow_. +Theme LVIII.+--_Write a description of one of the following:_-- 1. My cat. 2. The pony at the farm. 3. The glen. 4. The prairie. 5. The milldam. 6. The motorman. 7. The picture on this page. [Illustration] (Consider the effectiveness of your description. Can you improve your choice of words? Have you used comparisons or figures, and if so, do they improve your description? Consider your theme with reference to euphony. Section 16.) +133. Classes of Objects Frequently Described.+--There is no limit to the things that we may wish to describe, but there are certain general classes of objects that are described more frequently than others. We have greater occasion to describe men or places than we have to describe pictures or trees. A person may be an accurate observer having a large vocabulary applicable to one class of objects, and thus be able to describe objects of that class clearly and effectively; though at the same time, on account of limited experience and small vocabulary, he cannot well describe objects belonging to some other class. The ability to observe accurately the classes of objects named below, and to appreciate descriptions of such objects when made by others, is a desirable acquisition. Every effort should be made to master as many as possible of the words applicable to each class of objects. A slight investigation will show how great is the number of such words with which we are unfamiliar. 1. _Descriptions of buildings or portions of buildings._ In most buildings the basement story is heaviest, and each succeeding story increases in lightness; in the Ducal palace this is reversed, making it unique amongst buildings. The outer walls rest upon the pillars of open colonnades, which have a more stumpy appearance than was intended, owing to the raising of the pavement in the piazza. They had, however, no base, but were supported by a continuous stylobate. The chief decorations of the palace were employed upon the capitals of these thirty-six pillars, and it was felt that the peculiar prominence and importance given to its angles rendered it necessary that they should be enriched and softened by sculpture, which is interesting and often most beautiful. The throned figure of Venice above bears a scroll inscribed: _Fortis, justa, trono furias, mare sub pede, pono_. (Strong and just, I put the furies beneath my throne, and the sea beneath my foot.) One of the corners of the palace joined the irregular buildings connected with St. Mark's, and is not generally seen. There remained, therefore, only three angles to be decorated. The first main sculpture may be called the "Fig-tree angle," and its subject is the "Fall of Man." The second is "the Vine angle," and represents the "Drunkenness of Noah." The third sculpture is "the Judgment angle," and portrays the "Judgment of Solomon." --Hare: _Venice_. +Theme LIX.+--_Write a description of the exterior of some building._ +Theme LX.+--_Write a description of some room._ +Theme LXI.+--_Write a description of some portion of a building, such as an entrance, spire, window, or stairway._ (Consider each description with reference to-- _a._ Point of view. _b._ Fundamental image. _c._ Selection of essential details. _d._ Selection and subordination of minor details. _e._ Arrangement of details with reference to their natural positions in space. _f._ Effective choice of words and comparisons.) 2. _Natural features: valleys, rivers, mountains, etc._ Beyond the great prairies and in the shadow of the Rockies lie the Foothills. For nine hundred miles the prairies spread themselves out in vast level reaches, and then begin to climb over softly rounded mounds that ever grow higher and sharper, till here and there, they break into jagged points and at last rest upon the great bases of the mighty mountains. These rounded hills that join the prairies to the mountains form the Foothill Country. They extend for about a hundred miles only, but no other hundred miles of the great West are so full of interest and romance. The natural features of the country combine the beauties of prairie and of mountain scenery. There are valleys so wide that the farther side melts into the horizon, and uplands so vast as to suggest the unbroken prairie. Nearer the mountains the valleys dip deep and ever deeper till they narrow into canyons through which mountain torrents pour their blue-gray waters from glaciers that lie glistening between the white peaks far away. --Connor: _The Sky Pilot_. Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm; And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands; Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf In cluster; then a molder'd church; and higher A long street climbs to one tall tower'd mill; And high in heaven behind it a gray down With Danish barrows, and a hazelwood, By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes Green in a cuplike hollow of the down. --Tennyson: _Enoch Arden_. +Theme LXII.+--_Write a description of some valley, mountain, field, woods, or prairie._ +Theme LXIII.+--_Write a description of some stream, pond, lake, dam, or waterfall._ (Consider especially your choice of words.) 3. _Sounds or the use of sounds._ And the noise of Niagara? Alarming things have been said about it, but they are not true. It is a great and mighty noise, but it is not, as Hennepin thought, an "outrageous noise." It is not a roar. It does not drown the voice or stun the ear. Even at the actual foot of the falls it is not oppressive. It is much less rough than the sound of heavy surf-- steadier, more homogeneous, less metallic, very deep and strong, yet mellow and soft; soft, I mean, in its quality. As to the noise of the rapids, there is none more musical. It is neither rumbling nor sharp. It is clear, plangent, silvery. It is so like the voice of a steep brook-- much magnified, but not made coarser or more harsh--that, after we have known it, each liquid call from a forest hillside will seem, like the odor of grapevines, a greeting from Niagara. It is an inspiriting, an exhilarating sound, like freshness, coolness, vitality itself made audible. And yet it is a lulling sound. When we have looked out upon the American rapids for many days, it is hard to remember contented life amid motionless surroundings; and so, when we have slept beside them for many nights, it is hard to think of happy sleep in an empty silence. --Mrs. Van Rensselaer: _Niagara_ ("Century"). Yell'd on the view the opening pack; Rock, glen, and cavern, paid them back; To many a mingled sound at once The awaken'd mountain gave response. A hundred dogs bay'd deep and strong, Clatter'd a hundred steeds along, Their peal the merry horns rung out, A hundred voices join'd the shout; With hark, and whoop, and wild halloo, No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. Far from the tumult fled the roe, Close in her covert cower'd the doe; The falcon, from her cairn on high, Cast on the rout a wondering eye, Till far beyond her piercing ken The hurricane had swept the glen. Faint, and more faint, its failing din Return'd from cavern, cliff, and linn, And silence settled, wide and still, On the lone wood and mighty hill. --SCOTT: _Lady of the Lake_. +Theme LXIV.+--_Describe some sound or combination of sounds, or write a description introducing sounds._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. Alone in the house. 2. In the woods at night. 3. Beside the brook. 4. In the factory. 5. A day at the beach. 6. Before the Fourth. 7. On the seashore. (Notice especially the words that indicate sound.) 4. _Color or the use of color._ A gray day! soft gray sky, like the breast of a dove; sheeny gray sea with gleams of steel running across; trailing skirts of mist shutting off the mainland, leaving Light Island alone with the ocean; the white tower gleaming spectral among the folding mists; the dark pine tree pointing a somber finger to heaven; the wet, black rocks, from which the tide had gone down, huddling together in fantastic groups as if to hide their nakedness. --Laura E. Richards: _Captain January_. The large branch of the Po we crossed came down from the mountains which we were approaching. As we reached the post road again they were glowing in the last rays of the sun, and the evening vapors that settled over the plain concealed the distant Alps, although the snowy top of the Jungfrau and her companions the Wetterhorn and Schreckhorn rose above it like the hills of another world. A castle or church of brilliant white marble glittered on the summit of one of the mountains near us, and, as the sun went down without a cloud, the distant summits changed in hue to a glowing purple, mounting almost to crimson, which afterwards darkened into a deep violet. The western half of the sky was of a pale orange and the eastern a dark red, which blended together in the blue of the zenith, that deepened as twilight came on. --Taylor: _Views Afoot_. +Theme LXV.+--_Write a description in which the color element enters largely._ 5. _Animals, birds, fishes, etc._ The Tailless Tyke had now grown into an immense dog, heavy of muscle and huge of bone. A great bull head; undershot jaw, square and lengthy and terrible; vicious yellow gleaming eyes; cropped ears; and an expression incomparably savage. His coat was a tawny lionlike yellow, short, harsh, dense; and his back running up from shoulder to loins ended abruptly in a knoblike tail. He looked like the devil of a dog's hell, and his reputation was as bad as his looks. He never attacked unprovoked; but a challenge was never ignored and he was greedy of insults. --Alfred Ollivant: _Bob, Son of Battle_. (Copyright, Doubleday and McClure.) Read the description of the kingbird (page 224), and of the mongoose (page 242). +Theme LXVI.+--_Write a description of some animal, bird, or fish._ (What questions should you ask yourself about each description you write?) 6. _Trees and plants._ How shall kinnikinnick be told to them who know it not? To a New Englander it might be said that a whortleberry bush changed its mind one day and decided to be a vine, with leaves as glossy as laurel, bells pink-striped and sweet like the arbutus, and berries in clusters and of scarlet instead of black. The Indians call it kinnikinnick, and smoke it in their pipes. White men call it bearberry, I believe; and there is a Latin name for it, no doubt, in the books. But kinnikinnick is the best,--dainty, sturdy, indefatigable kinnikinnick, green and glossy all the year round, lovely at Christmas and lovely among flowers at midsummer, as content and thrifty on bare, rocky hillsides as in grassy nooks, growing in long, trailing wreaths, five feet long, or in tangled mats, five feet across, as the rock or the valley may need, and living bravely many weeks without water, to make a house beautiful. I doubt if there be in the world a vine I should hold so precious, indoors and out. --Helen Hunt Jackson: _Bits of Travel at Home_. A mango tree is beautiful and attractive. It grows as large as the oak, and has a rich and glossy foliage. The fruit is shaped something like a short, thick cucumber, and is as large as a large pear. It has a thick, tough skin, and a delicious, juicy pulp. When ripe it is a golden color. A tree often bears a hundred bushels of mangoes. --Marian M. George. +Theme LXVII.+--_Write a description of some tree that you have seen._ (Consider your theme with reference to the general principles of composition treated in Chapter V.) +134. Description of Persons: Character Sketches.+--The general principles of description are applicable to the description of a person, and should be followed for the purpose of presenting a clear and vivid image. Our interest, however, so naturally runs beyond the appearance and is concerned with the character, that most descriptions of persons become character sketches. Even the commonest terms of description, such as _keen gray eyes, square chin, rugged countenance_, are interpreted as showing character, and depart to some degree from pure description. Often the sole purpose of description is to show character, and only those details are introduced which accomplish this purpose. In life we judge a man's character by his actions, and so in the character sketch we are led to infer his character from what he does. The character indicated by his appearance is corroborated by a statement of his actions and especially by showing how he acts. (See Section 10.) Sometimes no descriptive matter is given, but we are left to make our own picture to fit the character indicated by the actions. In many books the descriptive elements which would enable us to form an image of some person are distributed over several pages, each being introduced where it supplements and emphasizes the character shown by the actions. Notice the following examples:-- The Rev. Daniel True stood beside the holy table. For such a scene, perhaps for any scene, he was a memorable figure. He had the dignity of early middle life, but none of its signs of advancing age. His hair was quite black, and curled on his temples boyishly; his mustache, not without a worldly cut, was as dark as his hair, and concealed a mouth so clean and fine that it was an ethical mistake to cover it. He had sturdy shoulders, although not quite straight; they had the scholar's stoop; his hands were thin, with long fingers; his gestures were sparing and significant; his expression was so sincere that its evident devoutness commanded respect; so did his voice, which was authoritative enough to be a little priestly and lacking somewhat in elocutionary finish as the voices of ministers are apt to be, but genuine, musical, persuasive, at moments vibrant with oratorical power. He had a warm eye and a lovable smile. He was every inch a minister, but he was every nerve a man. --Elizabeth Stuart Phelps: _A Sacrament_ ("Harper's"). She was not more than fifteen. Her form, voice, and manner belonged to the period of transition from girlhood. Her face was perfectly oval, her complexion more pale than fair. The nose was faultless; the lips, slightly parted, were full and ripe, giving to the lines of the mouth warmth, tenderness, and trust; the eyes were blue and large, and shaded by drooping lids and long lashes; and, in harmony with all, a flood of golden hair, in the style permitted to Jewish brides, fell unconfined down her back to the pillion on which she sat. The throat and neck had the downy softness sometimes seen which leaves the artist in doubt whether it is an effect of contour or color. To these charms of feature and person were added others more--an indefinable air of purity which only the soul can impart, and of abstraction natural to such as think much of things impalpable. Often, with trembling lips, she raised her eyes to heaven, itself not more deeply blue; often she crossed her hands upon her breast, as in adoration and prayer; often she raised her head like one listening eagerly for a calling voice. Now and then midst his slow utterance, Joseph turned to look at her, and, catching the expression kindling her face as with light, forgot his theme, and with bowed head, wondering, plodded on. --Lew Wallace: _Ben-Hur_. (Copyright, 1880, Harper and Bros.) When Washington was elected general of the army he was forty-three years of age. In stature he a little exceeded six feet; his limbs were sinewy and well proportioned; his chest broad, his figure stately, blending dignity of presence with ease of manner. His robust constitution had been tried and invigorated by his early life in the wilderness, his habit of occupation out of doors, and his rigid temperance, so that few equalled him in strength of arm or power of endurance. His complexion was florid, his hair dark brown, his head in shape perfectly round. His broad nostrils seemed formed to give expression and escape to scornful anger. His dark blue eyes, which were deeply set, had an expression of resignation and an earnestness that was almost sad. --Bancroft. There were many Englishmen of great distinction there, and Tennyson was the most conspicuous among the guests. Tennyson's appearance was very striking and his figure might have been taken as a living illustration of romantic poetry. He was tall and stately, wore a great mass of thick, long hair--long hair was then still worn even by men who did not affect originality; his frame was slightly stooping, his shoulders were bent as if with the weight of thought; there was something entirely out of the common and very commanding in his whole presence, and a stranger meeting him in whatever crowd would probably have assumed at once that he must be a literary king. --Justin McCarthy: _Literary Portraits from the Sixties_ ("Harper's"). The door opened and there appeared to these two a visitor. He was a young man, and tall,--so tall that, even with his hat off, his head barely cleared the ceiling of the low-studded room. He was slim and fair-haired and round-shouldered. He had the pink and white complexion of a girl; soft, fair hair; dark, serious eyes; the high, white brow of a thinker; the nose of an aristocrat; and he was in clerical garb. --Sewall Ford: _The Renunciation of Petruo_ ("Harper's"). EXERCISE Notice the pictures on page 253. Can you determine from the picture anything about the character of the person? Just what feature in each helps you in this? +Theme LXVIII.+--_Describe some person known to most of the class._ (Do not name the person, but combine description and character sketching so that the class may be able to tell whom you mean.) [Illustrations] +135. Impression of a Description.+--Often the effectiveness of a description is determined more by the impression which it makes upon our feelings than by the vividness of the picture which it presents. Read the following description of the Battery in New York by Howells. Notice how the details which have been selected emphasize the "impression of forlornness." The sickly trees, the decrepit shade, the mangy grass plots, hungry-eyed and hollow children, the jaded women, silent and hopeless, the shameless houses, the hard-looking men, unite to give the one impression. Even the fresh blue water of the bay, which laughs and dances beyond, by its very contrast gives greater emphasis to the melancholy and forlorn appearance of the Battery. All places that fashion has once loved and abandoned are very melancholy; but of all such places, I think the Battery is the most forlorn. Are there some sickly locust trees there that cast a tremulous and decrepit shade upon the mangy grass plots? I believe so, but I do not make sure; I am certain only of the mangy grass plots, or rather the spaces between the paths, thinly overgrown with some kind of refuse and opprobrious weed, a stunted and pauper vegetation proper solely to the New York Battery. At that hour of the summer morning when our friends, with the aimlessness of strangers who are waiting to do something else, saw the ancient promenade, a few scant and hungry-eyed little boys and girls were wandering over this weedy growth, not playing, but moving listlessly to and fro, fantastic in the wild inaptness of their costumes. One of these little creatures wore, with an odd, involuntary jauntiness, the cast-off best dress of some happier child, a gay little garment cut low in the neck and short in the sleeves, which gave her the grotesque effect of having been at a party the night before. Presently came two jaded women, a mother and a grandmother, that appeared, when they crawled out of their beds, to have put on only so much clothing as the law compelled. They abandoned themselves upon the green stuff, whatever it was, and, with their lean hands clasped outside their knees, sat and stared, silent and hopeless, at the eastern sky, at the heart of the terrible furnace, into which in those days the world seemed cast to be burnt up, while the child which the younger woman had brought with her feebly wailed unheeded at her side. On one side of the women were the shameless houses out of which they might have crept, and which somehow suggested riotous maritime dissipation; on the other side were those houses in which had once dwelt rich and famous folk, but which were now dropping down to the boarding-house scale through various unhomelike occupations to final dishonor and despair. Down nearer the water, and not far from the castle that was once a playhouse and is now the depot of emigration, stood certain express wagons, and about these lounged a few hard-looking men. Beyond laughed and danced the fresh blue water of the bay, dotted with sails and smokestacks. --Howells: _Their Wedding Journey_. The successive images of the preceding selection are clear enough, but they are bound together by a common purpose, which is the creation of a single impression. Often, however, a description may present, not a single impression, but a series of such impressions, to which a unity is given by the fact that they are all connected with one event, or occur at the same time, or in the same place. Such a series of impressions is illustrated in the following:-- It is a phenomenon whose commonness alone prevents it from being most impressive, that departure of the night-express. The two hundred miles it is to travel stretch before it, traced by those slender clews, to lose which is ruin, and about which hang so many dangers. The drawbridges that gape upon the way, the trains that stand smoking and steaming on the track, the rail that has borne the wear so long that it must soon snap under it, the deep cut where the overhanging mass of rocks trembles to its fall, the obstruction that a pitiless malice may have placed in your path, you think of these after the journey is done, but they seldom haunt your fancy while it lasts. The knowledge of your helplessness in any circumstances is so perfect that it begets a sense of irresponsibility, almost of security; and as you drowse upon the pallet of the sleeping car and feel yourself hurled forward through the obscurity, you are almost thankful that you can do nothing, for it is upon this condition only that you can endure it; and some such condition as this, I suppose, accounts for many heroic acts in the world. To the fantastic mood which possesses you equally, sleeping or waking, the stoppages of the train have a weird character, and Worcester, Springfield, New Haven, and Stamford are rather points in dreamland than well-known towns of New England. As the train stops you drowse if you have been waking, and wake if you have been in a doze; but in any case you are aware of the locomotive hissing and coughing beyond the station, of flaring gas-jets, of clattering feet of passengers getting on and off; then of some one, conductor or station master, walking the whole length of the train; and then you are aware of an insane satisfaction in renewed flight through the darkness. You think hazily of the folk in their beds in the town left behind, who stir uneasily at the sound of your train's departing whistle; and so all is blank vigil or a blank slumber. --Howells: _Their Wedding Journey_. +136. Impression as the Purpose of Description.+--The impression that it gives may become the central purpose of a description. It is evident in Howells's description of the Battery that the purpose was the creating of an impression of forlornness, and that the author kept this purpose in mind when choosing the details. If his aim had been to enable us to form a clear picture of the Battery in its physical outlines, he would have chosen different details and would have presented them in different language. The same scene or object may present a different appearance to two different observers because each may discover a different set of likenesses or resemblances and so select different essential characteristics. An artist will paint a picture that centers around some one feature. Each added detail seems but to set forth and increase the effect of this central element of the picture. Similarly the observer will in his description lay emphasis on the central point and will select details that bear a helpful relation to it. If he wishes to present the picture of a valley, he will lay emphasis on its fundamental image and essential details with reference to its appearance; but if his desire is to present the impression of fertility or of rural simplicity and quiet, the elements that are important for the producing of the desired impression may not be at all the ones essential to his former picture. When the presentation of a picture is our central purpose, we attempt to present it as it appears to us, and select details that will enable others to form the desired image; but if we desire to set forth how a scene affected us, we must choose details that will make our reader feel as we felt. +137. Necessity of Observing our Impressions.+--In order to write a description which shall give our impression of an object or scene, we must know definitely what that impression is. Just as clear seeing is necessary for the reproduction of definite images, so is the clear perception of our impressions necessary to their reproduction. Furthermore, we may know what our impressions are without being able to select those elements in a scene that have produced them; but in order to write a description that shall affect others as the scene itself affected us, we must know what these elements are and emphasize them in the description. Thus it becomes necessary to pay attention both to our impression and to the selection of those details which create that impression. One glance at a room may cause us to believe that the housekeeper is untidy. If we wish to convey this impression to our reader, our description must include the details that give that impression of untidiness to us. Nor are we limited to sight alone, for our impressions may be made stronger by the aid of the other senses. Sound and smell and taste may supplement the sight, and though they add little to the clearness, yet they add much to the impression which we get. Within the cabin, through which Basil and Isabel now slowly moved, there were numbers of people lounging about on the sofas, in various attitudes of talk or vacancy; and at the tables there were others reading _Lothair_, a new book in the remote epoch of which I write, and a very fashionable book indeed. There was in the air that odor of paint and carpet which prevails on steamboats; the glass drops of the chandeliers ticked softly against each other, as the vessel shook with her respiration, like a comfortable sleeper, and imparted a delicious feeling of coziness and security to our travelers. --Howells: _Their Wedding Journey_. +138. Impression Limited to Experience.+--If we attempt to write a description for the sake of giving an impression, it must be an impression that we have ourselves experienced. If the sight of the gorge of Niagara has filled us with a feeling of sublimity and awe, we shall find it hard to write a humorous account of it. If we see the humorous elements of a situation, we cannot easily make our description give the impression of grief. Neither can we successfully imitate the impressions of others. No two persons are affected in the same way by the same thing. Our age, our temperament, our emotional attitude, and all of our past experiences affect our way of looking at things and modify the impressions which we get. The successful presentation of our impression will depend largely upon the definite perception of our feelings. +139. Impression Affected by Mood.+--Not only is our impression affected by details in the scene observed, but it is even more largely influenced by our mood at the time of the observation. The same landscape may cheer at one time and dishearten at another. To-day we see the ridiculous; to-morrow, the sad and sorrowful. A thousand things may change our mood, but under certain general conditions, certain impressions are likely to arise. There is something in the air of spring, or the heat of summer, which affects us all. The weather, too, has its effect. Sunshine and shadow find answering attitudes in our feelings, and the skillful writer takes advantage of these emotional tendencies. Not far we fared-- The river left behind--when, looking back, I saw the mountain in the searching light Of the low sun. Surcharged with youthful pride In my adventure, I can ne'er forget The disappointment and chagrin which fell Upon me; for a change had passed. The steep Which in the morning sprang to kiss the sun, Had left the scene; and in its place I saw A shrunken pile, whose paths my steps had climbed, Whose proudest height my humble feet had trod. Its grand impossibilities and all Its store of marvels and of mysteries Were flown away, and would not be recalled. --Holland: _Katrina_. +140. Union of Image and Impression.+--Because we have discussed image making and impression giving separately, it must not be judged that they necessarily occur separately. They are in fact always united. No image, however clear, can fail to make some impression, and no description, however strong the impression it gives, fails to create some image. It is rather the placing of the emphasis that counts. Some descriptions have for their purpose the giving of an image, and the impression is of little moment. Other descriptions aim at producing impressions, and the images are of less importance. In the description of the Battery (page 254) the images are clear enough, but they are subordinate to the impression. This subordination may even go farther. Often the impression is made prominent and we are led by suggestion to form images which fit it, while in reality few definite images have been set. Notice in the following selection that the impression of desolation is given without attempting to picture exactly what was seen:-- The country at the foot of Vesuvius is the most fertile and best cultivated of the kingdom, most favored by Heaven in all Europe. The celebrated _Lacrymae Christi_ vine flourishes beside land totally devastated by lava, as if nature here made a last effort, and resolved to perish in her richest array. As you ascend, you turn to gaze on Naples, and on the fair laud around it--the sea sparkles in the sun as if strewn with jewels; but all the splendors of creation are extinguished by degrees, as you enter the region of ashes and smoke, that announces your approach to the volcano. The iron waves of other years have traced their large black furrows in the soil. At a certain height birds are no longer seen; further on, plants become very scarce; then even insects find no nourishment. At last all life disappears. You enter the realm of death and the slain earth's dust alone sleeps beneath your unassured feet. --Madame De Stael: _Corinne: Italy_. EXERCISES Discuss the following selections with reference to the impression given by each:-- The third of the flower vines is Wood-Magic. It bears neither flowers nor fruit. Its leaves are hardly to be distinguished from the leaves of the other vines. Perhaps they are a little rounder than the Snowberry's, a little more pointed than the Partridge-berry's; sometimes you might mistake them for the one, sometimes for the other. No marks of warning have been written upon them. If you find them, it is your fortune; if you taste them, it is your fate. For as you browse your way through the forest, nipping here and there a rosy leaf of young wintergreen, a fragrant emerald tip of balsam fir, a twig of spicy birch, if by chance you pluck the leaves of Wood-Magic and eat them, you will not know what you have done, but the enchantment of the treeland will enter your heart and the charm of the wildwood will flow through your veins. You will never get away from it. The sighing of the wind through the pine trees and the laughter of the stream in its rapids will sound through all your dreams. On beds of silken softness you will long for the sleep-song of whispering leaves above your head, and the smell of a couch of balsam boughs. At tables spread with dainty fare you will be hungry for the joy of the hunt, and for the angler's sylvan feast. In proud cities you will weary for the sight of a mountain trail; in great cathedrals you will think of the long, arching aisles of the woodland: and in the noisy solitude of crowded streets you will hone after the friendly forest. --Henry Van Dyke: _The Blue Flower_. (Copyright, 1902, Charles Scribner's Sons.) Running your eye across the map of the State, you see two slowly converging lines of railroad writhing out between the hills to the sea-coast. Three other lines come down from north to south by the river valleys and the jagged shore. Along these, huddled in the corners of the hills and the sea line, lie the cities and the larger towns. A great majority of mankind, swarming in these little spots, or scuttling to and fro along the valleys on those slender lines, fondly dream they are acquainted with the land in which they live. But beyond and around all this rises the wide, bare face of the country, which they will never know-- the great patches of second-growth woods, the mountain pastures sown thick with stones, the barren acres of the hillside farmer--a desolate land, latticed with gray New England roads, dotted with commonplace or neglected houses, and pitted with the staring cellars of the abandoned homes of disheartened and defeated men. Out here in this semi-obscurity, where the regulating forces of society grow tardy and weak, strange and dangerous beings move to and fro, avoiding the apprehension of the law. Occasionally we hear of them--of some shrewd and desperate city fugitives brought to bay in a corner of the woods, or some brutal farmhouse murderer still lurking uncaptured among the hills. Often they pass through the country and out beyond, where they are never seen again. In the extreme southwestern corner of the State the railroads do not come; the vacant spaces grow between the country roads, and the cities dwindle down to half-deserted crossroads hamlets. Here the surface of the map is covered up with the tortuous wrinkles of the hills. It is a beautiful but useless place. As far as you can see, low, unformed lumps of mountains lie jumbled aimlessly together between the ragged sky lines, or little silent cups of valleys stare up between them at their solitary patch of sky. It seems a sort of waste yard of creation, flung full of the remnants of the making of the earth. --George Kibbe Turner: _Across the State_ ("McClure's"). When once the shrinking dizzy spell was gone, I saw below me, like a jeweled cup, The valley hollowed to its heaven-kissed lip-- The serrate green against the serrate blue-- Brimming with beauty's essence; palpitant With a divine elixir--lucent floods Poured from the golden chalice of the sun, At which my spirit drank with conscious growth, And drank again with still expanding scope Of comprehension and of faculty. I felt the bud of being in me burst With full, unfolding petals to a rose, And fragrant breath that flooded all the scene. By sudden insight of myself I knew That I was greater than the scene,--that deep Within my nature was a wondrous world, Broader than that I gazed on, and informed With a diviner beauty,--that the things I saw were but the types of those I held, And that above them both, High Priest and King, I stood supreme, to choose and to combine, And build from that within me and without New forms of life, with meaning of my own, And then alone upon the mountain top, Kneeling beside the lamb, I bowed my head Beneath the chrismal light and felt my soul Baptized and set apart for poetry. --Holland: _Katrina_. +Theme LXIX.+--_Write a description the purpose of which is to give an impression that you have experienced._ SUMMARY 1. Description is that form of discourse which has for its purpose the creation of an image. 2. The essential characteristics of a description are:-- _a._ A point of view, (1) It may be fixed or changing. (2) It may be expressed or implied. (3) Only those details should be included that can be seen from the point of view chosen. _b._ A correct fundamental image. _c._ A few characteristic and essential details (1) Close observation on the part of the writer is necessary in order to select the essential details. _d._ A proper selection and subordination of minor details. _e._ A suitable arrangement of details with reference to their natural position in space. _f._ That additional effectiveness which comes from (1) Proper choice of words. (2) Suitable comparisons and figures. (3) Variety of sentence structures. 3. The foregoing principles of description apply in the describing of many classes of objects. A description of a person usually gives some indication of his character and so becomes to some extent a character sketch. 4. A description may also have for its purpose the giving of an impression. _a._ The writer must select details which will aid in conveying the impression he desires his readers to receive. _b._ The writer must observe his own impressions accurately, because he cannot convey to others that which he has not himself experienced. _c._ The impression received is affected by the mood of the person. _d._ Impression and image are never entirely separated. IX. NARRATION +141. Kinds of Narration.+--Narration consists of an account of happenings, and, for this reason, it is, without doubt, the most interesting of all forms of discourse. It is natural for us all to be interested in life, movement, action; hence we enjoy reading and talking about them. To be convinced that there is everywhere a great interest in narration we need only to listen to conversations, notice what constitutes the subject-matter of letters of friendship, read newspapers and magazines, and observe what classes of books are most frequently drawn from our libraries. Narration assumes a variety of forms. Since it relates happenings, it must include anecdotes, incidents, short stories, letters, novels, dramas, histories, biographies, and stories of travel and exploration. It also includes many newspaper articles such as those that give accounts of accidents and games and reports of various kinds of meetings. Evidently the field of narration is a broad one, for wherever life or action may be found or imagined, a subject for a narrative exists. EXERCISES 1. Name four different events that have actually taken place in your school in which you think your classmates are interested. 2. Name three events that have taken place in other schools that may be of interest to members of your school. 3. Name four events of general interest that have occurred in your city during the last two or three years. 4. From a daily paper, pick out a narrative that is interesting to you. 5. Select one that you think ought to interest the most of your classmates. 6. Name three national events of recent occurrence. 7. Name three or four strange or mysterious events of which you have heard. 8. Name an actual occurrence that interested you because you wanted to see how it turned out. 9. Would an ordinary account of a bicycle or automobile trip be interesting? If not, why not? +Theme LXX.+--._Write a letter to a pupil in a neighboring high school, telling about something interesting that has happened in your own school_. (Review forms of letter writing. Consider your use of paragraphs.) +142. Plot.+--By plot we mean the outline of the story told in a few words. All narratives consist of accounts of connected happenings, in which action on the part of the characters is naturally implied. The principal action briefly told constitutes the plot. The simple plot of Tennyson's _Princess_ is as follows:-- A prince of the North, after being affianced as a child to a princess of the South, has fallen in love with her portrait and a lock of her hair. When, however, the embassy appears to fetch home the bride, she sends back the message that she is not disposed to be married. Upon receipt of this word the Prince and two friends, Florian and Cyril, steal away to seek the Princess, and learn on reaching her father's court that she has established a Woman's College on a distant estate. Having got letters authorizing them to visit the Princess, they ride into her domain, where they determine to go dressed like girls and apply for admission as students in the College. They arrive in disguise, and are admitted. On the first day the young men enroll themselves as students of Lady Psyche, who recognizes Florian as her brother and agrees not to expose them, since--by a law of the College inscribed above the gates, which darkness has kept them from seeing--the penalty of their discovery would be death. Melissa, a student, overhears them, and is bound over to keep the secret. Lady Blanche, mother of Melissa and rival to Lady Psyche, also learns of the alarming invasion, and remains silent for sinister reasons of her own. On the second day the principal personages picnic in a wood. At dinner Cyril sings a song that is better fit for the smoking room than for the ears of ladies; the Prince, in his anger, betrays his sex by a too masculine reproof; and dire confusion is the result. The Princess in her flight falls into the river, from which she is rescued by the Prince. Cyril and Lady Psyche escape together, but the Prince and Florian are brought before the Princess. At this important moment despatches are brought from her father saying that the Prince's father has surrounded her palace with soldiers, taken him prisoner, and holds him as a hostage. The Prince, after pleading to deaf ears, is sent away at dawn with Florian, and goes with him to the camp. Meantime during the night, the Princess's three brothers have come to her aid with an army. An agreement is reached to decide the case and end the war by a tournament between the brothers, with fifty men, on one side; the Prince and his two friends, with fifty men, on the other. This happens on the third day. The Prince and his men are vanquished, and he himself is badly wounded. But the Princess is now gradually to discover that she has "overthrown more than her enemy,"--that she has defeated yet saved herself. She has said of Lady Psyche's little child:-- "I took it for an hour in mine own bed This morning: there the tender orphan hands Felt at my heart, and seem'd to charm from thence The wrath I nursed against the world." When Cyril pleads with her to give the child back to its mother, she kisses it and feels that "her heart is barren." When she passes near the wounded Prince, and is shown by his father--his beard wet with his son's blood--her hair and picture on her lover's heart, Her iron will was broken in her mind, Her noble heart was broken in her breast. From the Princess's cry then, "Grant me your son to nurse," it is but a natural result that she should bring the Prince's wounded men with him into the College, now a hospital. Through ministering to her lover, she comes to love him; and theories yield to "the lord of all." --Copeland-Rideout: _Introduction to Tennyson's Princess_. +Theme LXXI.+--_Write the plot of one of the following_:-- 1. _Lochinvar_, Scott. 2. _Rip Van Winkle_, Irving. 3. One story from _A Tale of Two Cities_, Dickens. 4. _Silas Marner_, George Eliot. 5. The last magazine story you have read. 6. Some story assigned by the teacher. +Theme LXXII.+--_Write three brief plots. Have the class choose the one that will make the most interesting story._ +Theme LXXIII.+--_Write a story, using the plot selected by the class in the preceding theme._ (Are the events related in your story probable or improbable?) +143. The Introduction.+--Our pleasure in a story depends upon our clear understanding of the various situations, and this understanding may often be best given by an introduction that states something of the time, place, characters, and circumstances as shown in Section 6. The purpose of the introduction is to make the story more effective, and what it shall contain is determined by the needs of the story itself. The last half of a well-written story will not be interesting to one who has not read the first half, because the first half will contain much that is essential to the complete understanding of the main point of the story. A story begun with conversation at once arouses interest, but care must be taken to see that the reader gets sufficient descriptive and explanatory matter to enable him to understand the story as the plot develops, or the interest will begin to lag. +Theme LXXIV.+--_Write a narrative._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. The Christmas surprise. 2. How the mortgage was paid. 3. The race between the steam roller and the traction engine. 4. The new girl in the boarding school. 5. The Boss, and how he won his title. (Be sure that your introduction is such that the entire situation is understood. Name different points in the story that led you to say what you have in the introduction. Have you mentioned any unnecessary points?) +144. The Incentive Moment.+--The chief business of a story-teller is to arouse the interest of his readers, and the sooner he succeeds, the better. Usually he tries to arouse interest from the very beginning of his story. He therefore places in the introduction or near it a statement designed to stimulate the curiosity of his readers. The point at which interest begins has been termed the incentive moment. In the following selection notice that the first sentence tells who, when, and where. (Section 6.) The second sentence causes us to ask, what was it? and by the time that is answered we are curious to know what happened and how the adventure ended. On a mellow moonlight evening a cyclist was riding along a lonely road in the northern part of Mashonaland. As he rode, enjoying the somber beauty of the African evening, he suddenly became conscious of a soft, stealthy, heavy tread on the road behind him. It seemed like the jog trot of some heavy, cushion-footed animal following him. Turning round, he was scared very badly to find himself looking into the glaring eyes of a large lion. The puzzled animal acted very strangely, now raising his head, now lowering it, and all the time sniffling the air in a most perplexed manner. Here was a surprise for the lion. He could not make out what kind of animal it was that could roll, walk, and sit still all at the same time; an animal with a red eye on each side, and a brighter one in front. He hesitated to pounce upon such an outlandish being--a being whose blood smelled so oily. I believe no cyclist ever "scorched" with more honesty and single-mindedness of purpose. But although he pedaled and pedaled, although he perspired and panted, his effort to get away did not seem to place any more space between him and the lion; the animal kept up his annoyingly calm jog trot, and never seemed to tire. The poor rider was finally so exhausted from terror and exertion that he decided to have the matter settled right away. Suddenly slowing down, he jumped from his wheel, and, facing abruptly about, thrust the brilliant headlight full into the face of the lion. This was too much for the beast. The sudden glare destroyed the lion's nerve, for at this fresh evidence of mystery on the part of the strange rider-animal, who broke himself into halves and then cast his big eye in any direction he pleased, the monarch of the forest turned tail, and with a wild rush retreated in a very hyena-like manner into the jungle, evidently thanking his stars for his miraculous escape from that awful being. Thereupon the bicyclist, with new strength returning and devoutly blessing his acetylene lamp, pedaled his way back to civilization. --P.L. Wessels. +Theme LXXV.+--_Write a short imaginative story._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. A bicycle race with an unfriendly dog. 2. An unpleasant experience. 3. A story told by the school clock. 4. Disturbing a hornet's nest. 5. The fate of an Easter bonnet. 6. Chased by a wolf. (Where is the incentive moment? Is it introduced naturally?) +145. Climax.+--You have already noticed in your reading that usually somewhere near the close of the story, there is a turning point. That turning point is called the climax. At this point, the suspense of mind is greatest, for the fate of the principal character is being decided. If the story is well written as regards the plot, our interest will continually increase from the incentive moment to the climax. In the novel and the drama, both of which may have a complicated plot, several minor climaxes or crises may be found. There may be a crisis to each single event or episode, yet they should all be a part of and lead up to the principal or final climax. Instead of detracting from, they add to the interest of a carefully woven plot. For example, in the _Merchant of Venice_, we have a crisis in both the casket story and the Lorenzo and Jessica episode; but so skillfully are the stories interwoven that the minor climaxes do not lessen our interest in the principal one. In short stories, the turning point should come near the close. There should be but little said after that point is reached. In novels, and especially in dramas, we find that the climax is not right at the close, and considerable action sometimes takes place after the climax has been reached. EXERCISES _A._ Point out the climax in each of five stories that you have read. _B._ Where is the climax in the following selection? We spoke, and Sohrab kindled at his taunts, And he too drew his sword; at once they rushed Together, as two eagles on one prey Come rushing down together from the clouds, One from the east, one from the west; their shields Dashed with a clang together, and a din Rose, such as that the sinewy woodcutters Make often in the forest's heart at morn, Of hewing axes, crashing trees--such blows Rustum and Sohrab on each other hailed. And you would say that sun and stars took part In that unnatural conflict; for a cloud Grew suddenly in heaven, and darked the sun Over the fighters' heads; and a wind rose Under their feet, and moaning swept the plain, And in a sandy whirlwind wrapped the pair. In gloom they twain were wrapped, and they alone; For both the onlooking hosts on either hand Stood in broad daylight, and the sky was pure, And the sun sparkled on the Oxus stream. But in the gloom they fought, with bloodshot eyes And laboring breath; first Rustum struck the shield Which Sohrab held stiff out; the steel-spiked spear Rent the tough plates, but failed to reach the skin, And Rustum plucked it back with angry groan. Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum's helm, Nor clove its steel quite through; but all the crest He shore away, and that proud horsehair plume, Never till now denied, sank to the dust; And Rustum bowed his head; but then the gloom Grew blacker, thunder rumbled in the air, And lightnings rent the cloud; and Ruksh, the horse, Who stood at hand, uttered a dreadful cry;-- No horse's cry was that, most like the roar Of some pained desert lion, who all day Hath trailed the hunter's javelin in his side, And comes at night to die upon the sand. The two hosts heard that cry, and quaked for fear, And Oxus curdled as it crossed his stream. But Sohrab heard, and quailed not, but rushed on, And struck again; and again Rustum bowed His head; but this time all the blade, like glass, Sprang in a thousand shivers on the helm, And in the hand the hilt remained alone. Then Rustum raised his head; his dreadful eyes Glared, and he shook on high his menacing spear, And shouted: "Rustum!"--Sohrab heard that shout, And shrank amazed: back he recoiled one step, And scanned with blinking eyes the advancing form; And then he stood bewildered; and he dropped His covering shield, and the spear pierced his side. He reeled, and, staggering back, sank to the ground, And then the gloom dispersed, and the wind fell, And the bright sun broke forth, and melted all The cloud; and the two armies saw the pair-- Saw Rustum standing, safe upon his feet, And Sohrab wounded, on the bloody sand. --Matthew Arnold: _Sohrab and Rustum_. +Theme LXXVI.+--_Write a story and give special attention to the climax._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. The immigrant's error. 2. A critical moment. 3. An intelligent dog. 4. The lost key. 5. Catching a burglar. 6. A hard test. 7. Won by the last hit. 8. A story suggested by a picture you have seen. (Name the incidents leading up to the climax. Is the mind held in suspense until the climax is reached? Are any unnecessary details introduced?) +146. Conversation in Narration.+--When introduced into narration, a conversation is briefer than when actually spoken. It is necessary to have the conversation move quickly, for we read with less patience than we listen. The sentences must be for the most part short, and the changes from one speaker to another frequent, or the dialogue will have a "made to order" effect. Notice the conversation in as many different stories as possible. Observe how variation is secured in indicating the speaker. How many substitutes for "He said" can you name? In relating conversation orally, we are less likely to secure such variety. Notice in your own speech and that of others how often "I said" and "He said" occur. EXERCISES _A_. Notice the indentation and sentence length in the following selection:-- Louden looked up calmly at the big figure towering above him. "It won't do, Judge," he said; that was all, but there was a significance in his manner and a certainty in his voice which caused the uplifted hand to drop limply. "Have you any business to set foot upon my property?" he demanded. "Yes," answered Joe. "That's why I came. "What business have you got with me?" "Enough to satisfy you, I think. But there's one thing I don't want to do"--Joe glanced at the open door--"and that is to talk about it here--for your own sake and because I think Miss Tabor should be present. I called to ask you to come to her house at eight o'clock to-night." "You did!" Martin Pike spoke angrily, but not in the bull bass of yore. "My accounts with her estate are closed," he said harshly. "If she wants anything let her come here." Joe shook his head. "No. You must be there at eight o'clock." --Booth Tarkington: _The Conquest of Canaan_ ("Harper's"). _B_. Notice the conversation in the following narrative. Consider also the incentive moment and the climax. Suggest improvements. When Widow Perkins saw Widower Parsons coming down the road she looked as mad as a hornet and stepped to the back door. "William Henry," she called to the lank youth chopping wood, "you've worked hard enough for one day. Come in and rest." "Guess that's the first time you ever thought I needed a rest since I was born. I'll keep right on chopping till you get through acceptin' old Hull," he replied, whereupon the widow slammed the door and looked twice as mad as before. "Mornin', widdy," remarked the widower, stalking into the room, taking a chair without an invitation, and hanging his hat on his knee. "Cold day," he added cheerfully. The widow nodded shortly, at the same time inwardly prophesying a still colder day for him before he struck the weather again. "Been buyin' a new cow," resumed the caller, impressively. "Have, eh?" returned the widow, with a jerk, bringing out the ironing board and slamming it down on the table. "An' two hogs," went on the widower, wishing the widow would glance at him just once and see how affectionate he looked. "They'll make pork enough for all next winter and spring." "Will, eh?" responded the widow, with a bang of the iron that nearly wrecked the table. "An' a--a--lot o' odd things 'round the house; an' the fact is, widdy, you see--that is, you know--was going to say if you'll agree"--the widower lost his words, and in his desperation hung his hat on the other knee and hitched a trifle nearer the ironing board. "No, Hull Parsons, I don't see a single mite, nor I don't know a particle, an' I ain't agreein' the least bit," snapped the widow, pounding the creases out of the tablecloth. "But say, widdy, don't get riled so soon," again ventured Parsons. "I was jest goin' to tell you that I've been proposing to Carpenter Brown to build a new--" By this time the widow was glancing at him in a way he wished she wouldn't. "Is that all the proposin' you've done in the last five mouths, Hull Parsons?" she demanded stormily. "You ain't asked every old maid for miles around to marry you, have you, Hull Parsons? An' you didn't tell the last one you proposed to that if she didn't take you there would be only one more chance left--that old pepper-box of a Widow Perkins? You didn't say that, now, did you, Hull Parsons?" and the widow's eyes and voice snapped fire all at once. The caller turned several different shades of red and realized that he had struck the biggest snag he'd ever struck in any courting career, past or present. He laughed violently for a second or two, tried to hang his hat on both knees at the same time, and finally sank his voice to a confidential undertone:-- "Now, widdy, that's the woman's way o' puttin' it. They've been jealous o' you all 'long, fur they knew where my mind was sot. I wouldn't married one o' them women for nothing," added the widower, with another hitch toward the ironing board. "Huh!" responded the widow, losing a trifle of her warlike cast of countenance. "S'pose all them women hadn't refused you, Hull Parsons, what then?" "They didn't refuse me, widdy," returned the widower, trying to look sheepish, and dropping his voice an octave lower. "S'pose I hadn't oughter tell on 'em, but--er--can you keep a secret, widdy?" "I ain't like the woman who can't," remarked the widow, shortly. "Well, then, I was the one who did the refusin'--the hull gang went fer me right heavy, guess 'cause 'twas leap year, or they was tryin' on some o' them new women's ways, or somethin' like that. But my mind was sot all along, d'ye see, widdy?" And the Widow Perkins invited Widower Parsons to stay to dinner, because she thought she saw. +Theme LXXVII.+--_Complete the story on pages 79-80, or one of the following:_-- THE AUDACIOUS REPORTER Soon after Fenimore Dayton became a reporter his city editor sent him to interview James Mountain. That famous financier was then approaching the zenith of his power over Wall Street and Lombard Street. It had just been announced that he had "absorbed" the Great Eastern and Western Railway System--of course, by the methods which have made some men and some newspapers habitually speak of him as "the Royal Bandit." The city editor had two reasons for sending Dayton--first because he did not like him; second, because any other man on the staff would walk about for an hour and come back with the report that Mountain had refused to receive him, while Dayton would make an honest effort. Seeing Dayton saunter down Nassau Street--tall, slender, calm, and cheerful--you would never have thought that he was on his way to interview one of the worst-tempered men in New York, for a newspaper which that man peculiarly detested, and on a subject which he did not care to discuss with the public. Dayton turned in at the Equitable Building and went up to the floor occupied by Mountain, Ranger, & Blakehill. He nodded to the attendant at the door of Mountain's own suite of offices, strolled tranquilly down the aisle between the several rows of desks at which sat Mountain's personal clerks, and knocked at the glass door on which was printed "Mr. Mountain" in small gilt letters. "Come!" It was an angry voice--Mountain's at its worst. Dayton opened the door. Mountain glanced up from a mass of papers before him. His red forehead became a network of wrinkles and his scant white eyebrows bristled. "And who are you?" he snarled. "My name is Dayton--Fenimore Dayton," replied the reporter, with a gracefully polite bow. "Mr. Mountain, I believe?" It was impossible for Mr. Mountain altogether to resist the impulse to bow in return. Dayton's manner was compelling. "And what the dev--what can I do for you?" "I'm a reporter from the ----" "What!" roared Mountain, leaping to his feet in a purple, swollen veined fury.... --David Graham Philips ("McClure's"). CAUGHT MASQUERADING When I took my aunt and sister to the Pequot hotel, the night before the Yale-Harvard boat race, I found a gang of Harvard boys there. They celebrated a good deal that night, in the usual Harvard way. Some of the Harvard men had a room next to mine. About three a.m. things quieted down. When I woke up next morning, it was broad daylight, and I was utterly alone. The race was to be at eleven o'clock. I jumped out of bed and looked at my watch--it was nearly ten! I looked for my clothes. My valise was gone! I rang the bell, but in the excitement downstairs, I suppose, no one answered it. What was I to do? Those Harvard friends of mine thought it a good joke on me to steal my clothes and take themselves off to the race without waking me up. I don't know what I should have done in my anguish, when, thank goodness, I heard a tap at my door, and went to it. "Well, do hurry!" (It was my sister's voice.) "Aunt won't go to the race; we'll have to go without her." "They've stolen my clothes, Mollie--those Harvard fellows." "Haven't you anything?" she asked through the keyhole. "Not a thing, dear." "Oh, well! it's a just punishment to you after last night! That ---- noise was dreadful!" "Perhaps it is," I said, "but don't preach now, sister dear--get me something to put on. I want to see the race." "I haven't anything except some dresses and one of aunt's." "Get me Aunt Sarah's black silk," I cried. "I will wear anything rather than not see the race, and it's half-past ten nearly now." (Correct your theme with reference to the points mentioned in Section 146.) +147. Number and Choice of Details--Unity.+--In relating experiences the choice of details will be determined by the purpose of the narrative and by the person or persons for whom we are writing. A brief account of an accident for a newspaper will need to include only a clear and concise statement of a few important facts. A traveling experience may be made interesting and vivid if we select several facts and treat each quite fully. This is especially true if the experience took place in a country or part of a country not familiar to our readers. If we are writing for those with whom we are acquainted, we can easily decide what will interest them. If we write to different persons an account of the same event, we find that these accounts differ from one another. We know what each person will enjoy, and we try to adapt our writing to each individual taste. Our narrative will be improved by adapting it to an imaginary audience in case we do not know exactly who our readers will be. In your high school work you know your readers and can select your facts accordingly. To summarize: a narration should possess unity, that is, it should say all that should be said about the subject and not more than needs to be said. The length of the theme, the character of the audience to which it is addressed, and the purpose for which it is written, determine what facts are necessary and how many to choose in order to give unity. (See Section 81.) +148. Arrangement of Details--Coherence.+--We should use an arrangement of our facts that will give coherence to our theme. In a coherent theme each sentence or paragraph is naturally suggested by the preceding one. It has been pointed out in Sections 82-85 that in narration we gain coherence by relating our facts in the order of their occurrence. When a single series of events is set forth, we can follow the real time-order, omitting such details as are not essential to the unity of the story. If, however, more than one series of events are given, we cannot follow the exact time-order, for, though two events occur at the same time, one must be told before the other. Here, the actual time relations must be carefully indicated by the use of expressions; as, _at the same time, meanwhile, already_, etc. (See Section 12.) Two or more series of events belong in the same story only if they finally come together at some time, usually at the point of the story. They should be carried along together so that the reader shall have in mind all that is necessary for the understanding of the point when it is reached. In short stories the changes from one series to another are close together. In a long book one or more chapters may give one series of incidents, while the following chapters may be concerned with a parallel series of incidents. Notice the introductory paragraph of each chapter in Scott's _Ivanhoe_ or Cooper's _The Last of the Mohicans_. Many of these indicate that a new series of events is to be related. It will be of advantage in writing a narrative to construct an outline as indicated in Section 84. Such an outline will assist us in making our narrative clear by giving it unity, coherence, and emphasis. EXERCISES 1. Name events that have occurred in your school or city which could be related in their exact time-order. Relate one of them orally. 2. Name two accidents that could not be related in their exact time-order. Relate one of them orally. 3. Name subjects for real narratives that would need to be written in the first person; in the third person. 4. In telling about a runaway accident, what points would you mention if you were writing a short account for a newspaper? 5. What points would you add if you were writing to some one who was acquainted with the persons in the accident? 6. Consider the choice and arrangement of details in the next magazine story that you read. +Theme LXXVIII.+--_Write a personal narrative in which the time-order can be carefully followed._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. The irate conductor. 2. A personal adventure with a window. 3. An interrupted nap. 4. Lost in the woods. 5. In a runaway. 6. An amusing adventure. 7. A day at grandfather's. (Consider the unity and coherence of the theme.) +Theme LXXIX.+--_Write in the third person a true narrative in which different events are going on at the same time._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. A skating accident. 2. The hunters hunted. 3. Capsized on the river. 4. How he won the race. 5. An experience with a balky horse. 6. The search for a lost child. 7. How they missed each other. 8. A strange adventure. 9. A tip over in a bobsleigh. (How many series of events have you in your narrative? Are they well connected? What words have you used to show the time-order of the different events?) +149. Interrelation of Plot and Character.+--Though in narration the interest centers primarily in the action, yet in the higher types of narration interest in character is closely interwoven with interest in plot. In reading, our attention is held by the plot; we follow its development, noticing the addition of incidents, their relation to one another and to the larger elements of action in the story, and their union in the final disentanglement of the plot; but our complete appreciation of the story runs far beyond the plot and depends to a large extent upon our interpretation of the character of the individuals concerned. The mere story may be exciting and interesting, but its effect will be of little permanent value if it does not stir within us some appreciation of character, which we shall find reflected in our own lives or in the lives of those about us. We may read the _Merchant of Venice_ for its story, but a deeper study of the play sets forth and reenforces the character of Portia, Shylock, and the others. With many of the celebrated characters of literature this interest has grown quite apart from interest in the plot, and they stand to-day as the embodiment of phases of human nature. Thus by means of action does the skillful author portray his conception of human life and human character. On the other hand, when we write we shall need to distinguish action that indicates character from that which is merely incidental to the plot. In order to develop a story to its climax we may need to have the persons concerned perform certain actions. If by skillful wording we can show not only what was done but also to some extent the way in which it was done, we may give our readers some notion of the character of the individuals in our story. (See Section 10.) This portrayal of character may be aided by the use of description. (See Section 134.) Notice that the purpose of the following selection is to indicate the character of Pitkin rather than to relate the incident. If the author were to relate other doings of Pitkin, he would need to make the actions of Pitkin in each case consistent with the character indicated by this sketch. It was the day of our great football game with Harvard, and when I heard my friend Pitkin returning to the room we shared in common, I knew that he was mad. And when I say mad I mean it,--not angry, nor exasperated, nor aggravated, nor provoked, but mad: not mad according to the dictionary, that is, crazy, but mad as we common folk use the term. So I say my friend Pitkin was mad. I thought so when I heard the angry click-clack of his heels on the cement walk, and I carefully put all the chairs against the wall; I was sure of it when the door slammed, and I set the coal scuttle in the corner behind the stove. There was no doubt of it when he mounted the stairs three steps at a time, and I hastily cleared his side of the desk. You may wonder why I did all these things, but you have never seen Pitkin mad. Why was Pitkin mad? I did not then know. I had not seen him yet, for I was so busy--so very, very busy--that I did not look up when he slammed his books on the desk with a resounding whack which caused the ink bottle to tremble and the lampshade to clatter as though chattering its teeth with fear, while the pens and pencils, tumbling from the holder, scurried away to hide themselves under the desk. I was still busily engaged with my books while he threw his wet overcoat and dripping hat on the white bedspread and kicked his rubbers under the stove, the smell of which soon warned me to rescue them before they melted. Pitkin must be very mad this time. He was taking off his collar and even his shoes. Pitkin always took off his collar when very mad, and if especially so, put on his slippers, even if he had to change them again in fifteen minutes. "What are you doing? Why don't you say something? You are a pretty fellow not to speak or even look up." Such was Pitkin's first remark. Sometimes he was talkative and would insist on giving his opinion of things in general. At other times he preferred to be left alone to bury himself and his wrath in his books. Since he had failed to poke the fire, though the room was very warm, I had decided that he would dive into his books and be heard no more until a half hour past his suppertime, but I had made a mistake. Today he was in a talkative mood, and knowing that work was impossible, I devoted the next half hour to listening to a dissertation on the general perverseness of human nature, and to an elaborate description of my friend Pitkin's scheme for endowing a rival institution with a hundred million, and making things so cheap and attractive that our university would have to go out of business. When Pitkin reached this point, I knew that I could safely ask the special reason of his anger and that, having answered, he would settle down to his regular work. I gently insinuated that I was still ignorant of the matter, and received the reply quite in keeping with Pitkin's nature, "I bet on Harvard and won." EXERCISES 1. Read one of Dickens's books and bring to class selections that will show how Dickens portrays character by use of action. 2. What kind of man is Silas Marner? What leads you to think as you do? 3. Select three persons from _Ivanhoe_ and state your opinion of their character. 4. Notice the relative importance of plot and character in three magazine stories. 5. Select some person from a magazine story. Tell the class what makes you form the estimate of his character that you do. To what extent does the descriptive matter help you determine his character? +Theme LXXX.+--_Write a character sketch or a story which shows character by means of action._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. The girl from Texas. 2. The Chinese cook. 3. Taking care of the baby. 4. Nathan's temptation. 5. The small boy's triumph. 6. A village character. 7. The meanest man I ever knew. (Consider the development of the plot. To what extent have you shown character by action? Can you make the impression of character stronger by adding some description?) +150. History and Biography.+--Historical and biographical narratives may be highly entertaining and at the same time furnish us with much valuable information. Such writings often contain much that is not pure narration. A historian may set forth merely the program of events, but most histories contain besides a large amount of description and explanation. Frequently, too, all of this is but the basis of either a direct or an implied argument. Likewise a biographer may be chiefly concerned with the acts of a man, but he usually finds that the introduction of description and explanation aids him in making clear the life purpose of the man about whom he writes. In shorter histories and biographies, the expository and descriptive matter often displaces the narrative matter to such an extent that the story ceases to be interesting. The actual time-order of events need not be followed. It will often make our account clearer to discuss the literary works of a man at one time, his education at another, and his practical achievements at a third. Certain portions of his life may need to be emphasized while others are neglected. What we include in a biography and what we emphasize will be determined by the purpose for which it is written. For pure information, a short account is desirable, but a long account is of greater interest. If a man is really great, the most insignificant events in his life will be read with interest, but a good biographer will select such events with good taste and then will present them so that they will have a bearing upon the more important phases of the man's life and character. Hundreds of the stories told about Lincoln would be trivial but for the fact that they help us better to understand the real character of the man. EXERCISE 1. Select some topic briefly mentioned in the history text you study. Look up a more extended account of it and come to the class prepared to recite the topic orally. Make your report clear, concise, and interesting. Decide beforehand just what facts you will relate and in what order. (See Sections 39, 52, 53.) +Theme LXXXI.+--_Come to class prepared to write upon some topic assigned by the teacher, or upon one of the following_:-- 1. Pontiac's conspiracy. 2. The battle of Marathon. 3. The Boston tea party. 4. The battle of Bannockburn. 5. Sherman's march to the sea. 6. Passage of the Alps by Napoleon. (Is your narrative told in an interesting way? Are any facts necessary to the clear understanding of it omitted?) EXERCISES 1. Name an English orator, an English statesman, and an English writer about each of whom an interesting biography might be written. 2. With the same purpose in view name two American orators, two American writers, and two American statesmen. +Theme LXXXII.+--_Write a short biography of some prominent person. Include only well-known and important facts, but do not give his name. Read the biography before the class and have them tell whose biography it is._ +151. Description in Narration.+--The descriptive elements, of narration should always have for their purpose something more than the mere creating of images. If a house is described, the description should enable us to bring to mind more vividly the events that take place within or around it. If the description aids us in understanding how or why the events occur, it is helpful; but if it fails to do this, it has no place in the narrative. Description when thus used serves as a background for the actions told in the story, and has for its purpose the explanation of how or why they occur. Sometimes the descriptions are given before the incident and sometimes the two are intermixed. In the following incident from the _Legend of Sleepy Hollow_, notice how the description prepares the mind for the action that follows. We are told that the brook which Ichabod must cross runs into a marshy and thickly wooded glen; that the oaks and chestnuts matted with grapevines throw a gloom over the place, and already we feel that it is a dreadful spot after dark. The fact that Andre was captured here adds to the feeling. We are prepared to have some exciting action take place, and had Ichabod ridden quietly across the bridge, we should have been disappointed. About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road, and ran into a marshy and thickly wooded glen, known by the name of Wiley's swamp. A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the woods, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate Andre was captured, and under covert of those vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark. As he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up, however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead of starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement, and ran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with the contrary foot. It was all in vain; his steed started, it is true, but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket of brambles and alder bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with a suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Just at this moment a plashy tramp, by the side of the bridge caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveler. --Irving: _Legend of Sleepy Hollow_. The most important use of description in connection with narration is that of portraying character. Though it is by their actions that the character of persons is most strongly brought out, yet the descriptive matter may do much to strengthen the impression of character which we form. (Section 134.) Much of the description found in literature is of this nature. Stripped of its context such a description may fail to satisfy our ideals as judged by the principles of description discussed in Chapter VIII. Nevertheless, in its place it may be perfectly adapted to its purpose and give just the impression the author wished to give. Such descriptions must be judged in their settings, and the sole standard of judgment is not their beauty or completeness as descriptions, but how well they give the desired impressions. +Theme LXXXIII.+--_Write a short personal narrative containing some description which explains how or why events occur._ (Is there anything in the descriptive part that does not bear on the narration?) +Theme LXXXIV.+--_Write a narrative containing description that aids in giving an impression of character._ Suggested subjects:-- 1. Holding the fort. 2. A steamer trip. 3. How I played truant. 4. Kidnapped. 5. The misfortunes of our circus. 6. Account for the situation shown in a picture that you have seen. (Will the reader form the impression of character which you wish him to form? Consider your theme with reference to its introduction, incentive moment, selection and arrangement of details, and climax.) SUMMARY 1. Narration assumes a variety of forms,--incidents, anecdotes, stories, letters, novels, histories, biographies, etc.,--all concerned with the relation of events. 2. The essential characteristics of a narration are,-- _a._ An introduction which tells the characters, the time, the place, and enough of the attendant circumstances to make clear the point of the narrative. _b._ The early introduction of an incentive moment. _c._ A climax presented in such a way as to maintain the interest of the reader. _d._ The selection of details essential to the climax in accordance with the principle of unity. _e._ The arrangement of these details in a coherent order. _f._ The skillful introduction of minor details which will assist in the appreciation of the point. _g._ The introduction of all necessary description and explanation. _h._ That additional effectiveness which comes from (1) Proper choice of words. (2) Suitable comparisons and figures. (3) Variety of sentence structure. _i._ A brief conclusion. X. EXPOSITION +152. Purpose of Exposition.+--It is the purpose of exposition to make clear to others that which we ourselves understand. Its primary object is to give information. Herein lies one of the chief differences between the two forms of discourse just studied and the one that we are about to study. The primary object of most description and narration is to please, while that of exposition is to inform. Exposition answers such questions as how? why? what does it mean? what is it used for? and by these answers attempts to satisfy demands for knowledge. In the following selections notice that the first tells us _how_ to burnish a photograph; the second, _how_ to split a sheet of paper:-- 1. When the prints are almost dry they can be burnished. The burnishing iron should be heated and kept hot during the burnishing, about the same heat as a flatiron in ironing clothes. Care must be taken to keep the polished surface of the burnisher bright and clean. When the iron is hot enough the prints should be rubbed with a glace polish, which is sold for this purpose, and is applied with a small wad of flannel. Then the prints should be passed through the burnisher two or three times, the burnisher being so adjusted that the pressure on the prints is rather light; the degree of pressure will be quickly learned by experience, more pressure being required if the prints have been allowed to become dry before being polished. White castile soap will do very well as a lubricator for the prints before burnishing, and is applied in the same manner as above. --_The Amateur Photographer's Handbook_. 2. Paper can be split into two or even three parts, however thin the sheet. It may be convenient to know how to do this sometimes; as, for instance, when one wishes to paste in a scrapbook an article printed on both sides of the paper. Get a piece of plate glass and place it on a sheet of paper. Then let the paper be thoroughly soaked. With care and a little skill the sheet can be split by the top surface being removed. The best plan, however, is to paste a piece of cloth or strong paper to each side of the sheet to be split. When dry, quickly, and without hesitation, pull the two pieces asunder, when one part of the sheet will be found to have adhered to one, and part to the other. Soften the paste in water, and the two pieces can easily be removed from the cloth. EXERCISES A. Explain orally any two of the following:-- 1. How to fly a kite. 2. How a robin builds her nest. 3. How oats are harvested. 4. How tacks are made. 5. How to make a popgun. 6. How fishes breathe. 7. How to swim. 8. How to hemstitch a handkerchief. 9. How to play golf. 10. How salt is obtained. B. Name several subjects with the explanation of which you are unfamiliar. +Theme LXXXV.+--_Select for a subject something that you know how to do. Write a theme on the subject chosen._ (Have you made use of either general description or general narration? See Sections 67 and 68.) Very frequently explanations of _how_ and _why_ anything is done are combined, as in the following:-- In cases of sunstroke, place the person attacked in a cool, airy place. Do not allow a crowd to collect closely about him. Remove his clothing, and lay him flat upon his back. Dash him all over with cold water--ice-water, if it can be obtained--and rub the entire body with pieces of ice. This treatment is used to reduce the heat of the body, for in all cases of sunstroke the temperature of the body is greatly increased. When the body has become cooler, wipe it dry and remove the person to a dry locality. If respiration ceases, or becomes exceedingly slow, practice artificial respiration. After the patient has apparently recovered, he should be kept quiet in bed for some time. --Baldwin: _Essential Lessons in Human Physiology and Hygiene_. Notice that the following selection answers neither the question _how_? nor _why_? but explains what journalism is:-- JOURNALISM What is a journal? What is a journalist? What is journalism? Is it a trade, a commercial business, or a profession? Our word _journal_ comes from the French. It has different forms in the several Romantic languages, and all go back to the Latin _diurnalis_, daily, from _dies_, a day. Diurnal and diary are derived from the same source. The first journals were in fact diaries, daily records of happenings, compiled often for the pleasure and use of the compiler alone, sometimes for monarchs or statesmen or friends; later to be circulated for the information of a circle of readers, or distributed in copies to subscribers among the public at large. These were the first newspapers. While we still in a specific sense speak of daily newspapers as journals, the term is often enlarged to comprise nearly all publications that are issued periodically and distributed to subscribers. A journalist is one whose business is publishing a journal (or more than one), or editing a journal, or writing for journals, especially a person who is regularly employed in some responsible directing or creative work on a journal, as a publisher, editor, writer, reporter, critic, etc. This use of the word is comparatively modern, and it is commonly restricted to persons connected with daily or weekly newspapers. Many older newspaper men scout it, preferring to be known as publishers, editors, writers, or contributors. Journalism, however, is a word that is needed for its comprehensiveness. It includes the theory, the business, and the art of producing newspapers in all departments of the work. Hence, any school of professional journalism must be presumed to comprise in its scope and detail of instruction the knowledge that is essential to the making and conduct of newspapers. It must have for its aim the ideal newspaper which is ideally perfect in every department. Journalism, so far as it is more than mere reporting and mere money making, so far as it undertakes to frame and guide opinion, to educate the thought and instruct the conscience of the community, by editorial comment, interpretation and homily, based on the news, is under obligation to the community to be truthful, sincere, and uncorrupted; to enlighten the understanding, not to darken counsel; to uphold justice and honor with unfailing resolution, to champion morality and the public welfare with intelligent zeal, to expose wrong and antagonize it with unflinching courage. If journalism has any mission in the world besides and beyond the dissemination of news, it is a mission of maintaining a high standard of thought and life in the community it serves, strengthening all its forces that make for righteousness and beauty and fair growth. This is not solely, nor peculiarly, the office of what is called the editorial page. To be most influential, it must be a consistent expression in all departments, giving the newspaper a totality of power in such aim. This is the right ideal of journalism whenever it is considered as more than a form of commercialism. No newspaper attains its ideal in completeness. If it steadfastly works toward attainment, it gives proof of its right to be. The advancing newspaper, going on from good to better in the substance of its character and the ability of its endeavor, is the type of journalism which affords hope for the future. And one strong encouragement to fidelity in a high motive is public appreciation. --_The Boston Herald._ EXERCISES Give as complete an answer as possible to any two of the following questions:-- 1. Why do fish bite better on a cloudy day than on a bright one? 2. Why should we study history? 3. Why does a baseball curve? 4. Why did the American colonies revolt against England? 5. Why did the early settlers of New England persecute the Quakers? 6. Why should trees be planted either in early spring or late autumn? 7. Why do we lose a day in going from America to China? 8. In laying a railroad track, why is there a space left between the ends of the rails? +Theme LXXXVI.+--_Choose one of the above or a similar question as a subject for a theme. Write out as complete and exact an explanation as possible._ EXERCISE Write out a list of subjects the explanation of which would not answer the questions _why_? or _how_? How many of them can you explain? +Theme LXXXVII.+--_Write out the explanation of one of the subjects in the above list._ (Read what you have written and consider it with reference to clearness, unity, and coherence.) +153. Importance of Exposition.+--This form of discourse is important because it deals so extensively with important subjects, such as questions of government, facts in science, points in history, methods in education, and processes of manufacture. It enters vitally into our lives, no matter what our occupation may be. Business men make constant use of this kind of discourse. In fact, it would be impossible for business to be transacted with any degree of success without explanations. Loans of money would not be made if men did not understand how they could have security for the sums loaned. A manufacturer cannot expect to have good articles produced if he is unable to give needful explanations concerning their manufacture. In order that a merchant be successful he must be able to explain the relative merits of his goods to his customers. Very much of the work done in our schools is of an expository nature. The text-books used are expositions. When they of themselves are not sufficient for the clear understanding of the subject, it is necessary to consult reference books. Then, if the subject is still lacking in clearness, the teacher is called upon for additional explanation. On the other hand, the greater part of the pupil's recitations consists simply in explaining the subjects under discussion. Much of the class-room work in our schools consists of either receiving or giving explanations. EXERCISES 1. Name anything outside of school work that you have been called upon to explain during the last week or two. 2. Name anything outside of school work that you have recently learned through explanation. 3. Name three topics in each of your studies for to-day that call for explanation. 4. Name some topic in which the text-book did not seem to make the explanation clear. +Theme LXXXVIII.+--_Write out one of the topics mentioned in number three of the preceding exercise._ (Have you included everything that is necessary to make your explanation clear? Can anything be omitted without affecting the clearness?) +154. Clear Understanding.+--The first requisite of a good explanation is a clear understanding on the part of the one who is giving the explanation. It is evident that if we do not understand a subject ourselves we cannot make our explanations clear to others. If the ideas in our mind are in a confused state, our explanation will be equally confused. If you do not understand a problem in algebra, your attempt to explain it to others will prove a failure. If you attempt to explain how a canal boat is taken through a lock without thoroughly understanding the process yourself, you will give your listeners only a confused idea of how it is done. The principal reason why pupils fail in their recitations and examinations is that in preparing their lessons, they do not make themselves thoroughly acquainted with the topics that they are studying. They often go over the lessons hurriedly and carelessly and come to class with confused ideas. Consequently when the pupils attempt to recite, there is, if anything, an additional confusion of ideas, and the recitation proves a failure. Carelessness in the preparation of daily recitations, negligence in asking for additional explanations, and inattention to the explanations that are given, inevitably cause failure when tests or examinations are called for. EXERCISES 1. Name five subjects about which you know so little that it would be useless to attempt an explanation. 2. Name five about which you know something, but not enough to give clear explanations of them. 3. Name four about which you know but little, but concerning which you feel sure that you can obtain information. 4. Name six that you think you clearly understand. Report orally on one of them. +Theme LXXXIV.+--_Write out an explanation of one of the subjects named in number four of the preceding exercise._ (Read your theme and criticise it as to clearness. In listening to the themes read by other members of the class consider them as to clearness. Call for further explanation of any part not perfectly clear to you.) +155. Selection of Facts--Unity.+--After we have been given a subject for explanation or have chosen one for ourselves, we must decide concerning the facts to be presented. In some kinds of exposition this selection is rather difficult. Since the purpose is to make our meaning clear to the person addressed, we secure unity by including all that is necessary to that purpose and by omitting all that is not necessary. It is evident that selection of facts to secure unity depends to some extent upon the audience. If a child asks us to explain what a trust is, our explanation will differ very much from that which we would give if we were addressing a body of men who were familiar with the term _trusts_, but do not understand the advantages and disadvantages arising from their existence. Examine the following as to selection of facts. For what class of people do you think it was written? What seems to be the purpose of it? THE FEUDAL SYSTEM This connection of king as sovereign, with his princes and great men as vassals, must be attended to and understood, in order that you may comprehend the history which follows. A great king, or sovereign prince, gave large provinces, or grants of land, to his dukes, earls, and noblemen; and each of these possessed nearly as much power, within his own district, as the king did in the rest of his dominions. But then the vassal, whether duke, earl, or lord, or whatever he was, was obliged to come with a certain number of men to assist the sovereign, when he was engaged in war; and in time of peace, he was bound to attend on his court when summoned, and do homage to him, that is, acknowledge that he was his master and liege lord. In like manner, the vassals of the crown, as they were called, divided the lands which the king had given them into estates, which they bestowed on knights, and gentlemen, whom they thought fitted to follow them in war, and to attend them in peace; for they, too, held courts, and administered justice, each in his own province. Then the knights and gentlemen, who had these estates from the great nobles, distributed the property among an inferior class of proprietors, some of whom cultivated the land themselves, and others by means of husbandmen and peasants, who were treated as a sort of slaves, being bought and sold like brute beasts, along with the farms which they labored. Thus, when a great king, like that of France or England, went to war, he summoned all his crown vassals to attend him, with the number of armed men corresponding to his fief, as it was called, that is, territory which had been granted to each of them. The prince, duke, or earl, in order to obey the summons, called upon all the gentlemen to whom he had given estates, to attend his standard with their followers in arms. The gentlemen, in their turn, called on the franklins, a lower order of gentry, and upon the peasants; and thus the whole force of the kingdom was assembled in one array. This system of holding lands for military service, that is, for fighting for the sovereign when called upon, was called the _feudal system_. It was general throughout all Europe for a great many ages. --Scott: _Tales of a Grandfather_. +Theme LXXXV.+--_Write a theme on one of the following:_-- 1. Tell your younger brother how to make a whistle. 2. Explain some game to a friend of your own age. 3. Give an explanation of the heating system of your school to a member of the school board of an adjoining city. 4. Explain to a city girl how butter is made. 5. Explain to a city boy how hay is cured. 6. Explain to a friend how to run an automobile. (Consider the selection of facts as determined by the person addressed.) +156. Arrangement--Coherence.+--Some expositions are of such a nature that there is but little question concerning the proper arrangement of the topics composing them. In order to be coherent, all we do is to follow the natural order of occurrence in time and place. This is especially true of general narrations and of some general descriptions. In explaining the circulation of the blood, for instance, it is most natural for us to follow the course which the blood takes in circulating through the body. In explaining the manufacture of articles we naturally begin with the material as it comes to the factory, and trace the process of manufacture in order through its successive stages. In other kinds of exposition a coherent arrangement is somewhat difficult. We should not, however, fail to pay attention to it. A clear understanding of the subject, on the part of the listener, depends largely upon the proper arrangement of topics. As you study examples of expositions of some length, you will notice that there are topics which naturally belong together. These topics form groups, and the groups are treated separately. If the expositions are good ones, the related facts will not only be united into groups, but the groups will also be so arranged and the transition from one group to another be so naturally made that it will cause no confusion. In brief explanations of but one paragraph there should be but one group of facts. Even these facts need to be so arranged as to make the whole idea clear. The writer may have a clear understanding of the whole idea, but in order to give the reader the same clear understanding, certain facts must be presented before others are. In order to make an explanation clear, the facts must be so arranged that those which are necessary to the understanding of others shall come first. Examine the following expositions as to the grouping of related facts and the arrangement of those groups:-- Fresh, pure air at all times is essential to bodily comfort and good health. Air may become impure from many causes. Poisonous gases may be mixed with it; sewer gas is especially to be guarded against; coal gas which is used for illuminating purposes is very poisonous and dangerous if inhaled; the air arising from decaying substances, foul cellars, or stagnant pools, is impure and unhealthy, and breeds diseases; the foul and poisonous air which has been expelled from the lungs, if breathed again, will cause many distressing symptoms. Ventilation has for its object the removal of impure air and the supplying of fresh, wholesome air in its place. Proper ventilation should be secured in all rooms and buildings, and its importance cannot be overestimated. In the summer time and in climates which permit of it with comfort, ventilation may be secured by having the doors and windows open, thus allowing the fresh air to circulate freely through the house. In stormy and cold weather, however, some other means of ventilation must be supplied. If open fires or grates are used for heating purposes, good ventilation exists, for under such circumstances, the foul and impure air is drawn out of the rooms through the chimneys, and the fresh air enters through the cracks of the doors and windows. Where open fireplaces are not used, several plans of ventilation may be used, as they all operate on the same principle. Two openings should be in the room, one of them near the floor, through which the fresh air may enter, the other higher up, and connected with a shaft or chimney, which producing a draft, may serve to free the room from impure air. The size of these openings may be regulated according to the size of the room. --Baldwin: _Essential Lessons in Human Physiology_. THE QUEEN BEE It is a singular fact, also, that the queen is made, not born. If the entire population of Spain or Great Britain were the offspring of one mother, it might be found necessary to hit upon some device by which a royal baby could be manufactured out of an ordinary one, or else give up the fashion of royalty. All the bees in the hive have a common parentage, and the queen and the worker are the same in the egg and in the chick; the patent of royalty is in the cell and in the food; the cell being much larger, and the food a peculiar stimulating kind of jelly. In certain contingencies, such as the loss of the queen with no eggs in the royal cells, the workers take the larva of an ordinary bee, enlarge the cell by taking in the two adjoining ones, and nurse it and st