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MANUAL
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Composition and Rhetoric
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BY
JOHN S. HART, LL.D.,
LATE PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN
THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY, FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE NEW JERSEY
STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, AUTHOR OF A SERIES OF TEXT-BOOKS
ON THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, ETC., ETC.
PHILADELPHIA:
ELDREDGE & BROTHER,
No. 17 North Seventh Street.
1882.
A SERIES OF TEXT-BOOKS
ON
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.
By JOHN S. HART, LL.D.
Language -Lessons for Beginners.
An Elementary English Grammar.
English Grammar and Analysis.
First Lessons in Composition.
Composition and Rhetoric.
A Short Course in Literature.
A Manual of English Literature.
A Manual of American Literature.
A Class-Book of Poetry.
«f
&** **£§^
> Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870,
ELDREDGE & BROTHER,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington
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t ^y*& J. FAGAN * 80N, |&3Sfr*,
^^Cl- ELECTB0TYPER8, PHILAD'A. *fft^^
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Preface.
npHIS is, on the face of it, a text-book. It has been writ-
-*- ten for learners, not for the learned. Its object is, not
to extend the boundaries of the science by excursions into
debatable ground, but to present its admitted truths in a
form easily apprehended. By this statement, however, I do
not wish to convey the idea that the treatise is unscientific
in its character or its methods. I mean merely that I have
studiously avoided cumbering my book with the many ab-
struse and still unsolved questions which environ the subject.
Those questions are not without interest or value, and few
persons have a keener relish for their discussion than the
writer, whose life-long studies have been in that precise line
of inquiry. But original investigation is felt to be out of
place in a text-book for instruction in the elements. At the
same time, it is believed, the attentive reader, who is familiar
with the recent literature of the science, will find the subject
brought up to the latest clearly ascertained results, while in
some directions a decided advance has been made.
002 iU
IV PREFACE.
The text has been, purposely, and most carefully, broken
up into portions convenient for the uses of the class-room.
These typographical arrangements necessarily give to the
pages a somewhat fragmentary appearance. But any one
who will take the trouble to look will see at a glance that
the matter throughout is closely connected and continuous,
— that it forms a compacted and orderly system.
Rhetoric, like grammar, arithmetic, and many kindred
subjects of study, is an art as Well as a science, and no text-
book for the class-room is of much value which is not well
furnished with examples for practice. In the preparation
of the present work, no labor has been spared in this re-
spect. In the apparatus required by the teacher for train-
ing students in the practical applications of the principles
of Rhetoric, the book, it is believed, may safely challenge
comparison with any work on the subject that is before the
public. J. S. H.
State Normal School,
Trenton, N. J.
NOTE TO THE REVISED EDITION.
The attention of Teachers is called to the method given on page 347 for Cor-
recting Compositions. This method has been found to be of the greatest practical
value as a means of lessening the labor of correction. Where classes are large,
and the exercise is frequent, this labor is often enormous. Yet it is a labor that
cannot be omitted, if the scholar is to reap the full benefit of the exercise. Gen-
eral criticisms are of comparatively little value. It is the minute criticism of
words and sentences, in detail, tbat chiefly benefits the student; and to write
these criticisms out in full involves an amount of labor which few teachers are
willing to give. By the system of notation here suggested, this labor is 1 pawned
by at least four-fifths.
-«
Contents.
INTRODUCTION.
PAGE
General Terms Defined, . . . . . . . . - . 17
General Divisions, ......... IS
PART I,
STYLE.
Definition of Style,
Division of the Subject,
CHAPTER I.
Punctuation and Capitals.
Definition and History of the Subject, . . . . . . .21
Division of the Subject, ........ 22
SECTION I.— The Comma.
Rule 1. Parenthetical Expressions, . . . . . . .24
Rule 2. Intermediate Expressions, ...... 26
Rule 3. Dependent Clauses, ........ 27
Rule 4. Relative Clauses, ........ 28
Rule 5. Co-ordinate Clauses, . . . . . . . .30
Rule 6. Grammatical Expressions in the Same Construction, . . 30
Rule 7. Words in the Same Construction, . . . . . .31
1* . V
VI CONTENTS.
PAGE
Rule 8. Words or Phrases in Pairs, 32
Rule 9. Nouns in Apposition, ..... . . 33
Rule 10. The Vocative Case 34
Rule 11. The Case Absolute, 34
Rule 12. Inverted Expressions, ....... 34
Rule 13. Ellipsis of the Verb, 35
Rule 14. Short Quotations 35
SECTION II.— The Semicolon.
Rule 1. Subdivided Members in Compound Sentences, . . .38
Rule 2. Clauses and Expressions having a Common Dependence, . 37
Rule 3. Sentences Connected in Meaning, but not Grammatically, . . 37
Rule 4. The Clause Additional, 38
Rule 5. A General Term in Apposition to the Particulars under it, . .39
SECTION III.— The Colon.
Rule 1. Greater Divisions of Complex Sentences, . . . .40
Rule 2. Before a Quotation, ....... 40
Rule 3. Yes and No 40
Rule 4. Title-pages 40
SECTION IV.— The Period.
Rule 1 Complete Sentences, . . . . . . . .42
Rule 2. After Titles, etc 43
Rule 3. After Abbreviations, ........ 43
SECTION V.— The Interrogation.
Rule. The. Direct Question, 46
SECTION VI.— The Exclamation.
Rule 1. After Strong Emotion, . . . . . . .47
Rule 2. After an Interjection, ....... 48
Rule, 3. Double Exclamations, ........ 48
SECTION VII.— The Dash.
Rule 1. Construction Changed, . . . . . . .50
Rule 2. Change in Sentiment, ....... 50
Rule 3. Emphatic Generalization, . . . . . . .50
Rule 4. Elocutionary Pause, ....... 50
Rule 5. Expressions Dependent upon Concluding Clause, . . .51
Rule 6. Rhetorical Repetition 51
Pule 7. Reflex Apposition, . . . . . . . .51
Rule 8. The Dash Parenthetical, ....... 52
Rule 9. Titles Run in 52
Rule 10. Question and Answer, ....... 53
Rule 11. Omissions 53
Rule 12. Examples on a New Line, ...... 53
CONTENTS. Vll
SECTION VIII.— The Parenthesis. page
Rule, . . 54
SECTION IX.— Brackets.
Rule 56
SECTION X.— Quotations.
Rule 1. Words Taken from Another Author, . . . . .58
Rule 2. Quotation Within a Quotation, ...... 59
Rule 3. Consecutive Paragraphs, . . . . . . .60
SECTION XI.— Apostrophe, Hyphen, etc.
Apostrophe, Hyphen, Caret, Index, etc., . . . . . .61
Captions, Side-Heads, Kinds of Type, etc., ..... 63
SECTION XII.— Capitals.
Rule 1. Title-pages, and Headings, . . . . . . .63
Rule 2. First Words, 64
Rules 3-10. Numbered Clauses, etc., . . . . . . .64
Rules 11-14. Names of God, etc 65
Rules 15-18. Proper Names, etc., . . . . . . .66
Rules 19, 20. Special Importance, Personification, .... 67
CHAPTER II.
Diction.
Definition — How to Obtain Command of Words, . . . . .71
Division of the Subject. ........ 72
SECTION I.— Purity.
1. Foreign Words, .......... 73
2. Obsolete Words, and New Words, ...... 73
3. Words without Proper Authority, . . . . . . .76
Use the Law of Language, ........ 76
SECTION II.— Propriety.
Difference between Propriety of Diction and Purity, . . . .78
Means of Attaining Propriety, ....... 79
Examples of Words Used Improperly, . . . . . .79
SECTION III.— Precision.
Meaning of Precision, ......... 83
Examples of Words not Used Precisely, ..... 83
The Study of Synonyms, 84
Books on the Subject of Synonyms, ...... 84
Examples of Synonyms, ......... 84
Appendix :
Campbell's Essay on Use as the Law of Language, .... 89
Vlll
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER III.
Sentences.
Division of the Subject,
PAGE
. 92
PART I.— Kinds of Sentences.
Section 1. Periodic Sentences, ........ 92
Section 2. Loose Sentences, ........ 93
Examples of each, . . . . . . . .94
Section 3. Balanced Sentences, ....... 98
Examples, .......... 99
Use of the Balanced Sentence, ...... 100
Section 4. Short and Long Sentences, . . . . . .100
Rule in Regard to the Use of the Various Kinds of Sentences, 101
PART II. — Rules for the Construction of Sentences.
RULE I. — Clearness.
Section 1. Position of the Adverb. .
Section 2. Position of Adverbial Clauses,
Section 3. Squinting Construction, .
Section 4. Use of the Pronouns, .
Summary of Rule I., .
RULE II. — Emphasis.
Section 1. The Principal Subject,
Disposal of Subsidiary Matter,
Section 2. The Principal Predicate,
Principal Words not to be Entangled,
RULE III. -Unity.
General Illustration of Unity,
Section 1. Change of Subject to be Avoided,
Section 2. Crowding Together Things Unconnected
Section 3. Management of Relative Clauses,
Section 4. Parentheses, ....
Section 5. Supplementary Clauses, . .
RULE IV. — Strength.
Section 1. Redundant Words,
Section 2. Use of Very, etc., ....
Section 3. Words of Connection and Transition,
Section 4. Bringing to a Conclusion,
Section 5. Contrasted Changes, .
Section 6. Climax, .....
RULE V. — Harmony.
Section 1. Prevalence of Pleasant Sounds, .
Section 2. Accents at Convenient Intervals,
Section 3. Cadence at the Glow,
Section 4. Adapting the Sound to the Sense,
104
106
109
112
117
117
119
120
121
123
125
125
126
127
128
131
133
133
188
137
137
140
II -1
143
144
CONTENTS. IX
CHAPTER IV.
Figures.
PAGE
Relation of the Subject to what Precedes, . . . . . .154
Definition of Figures, ........ 154
Origin and Use of Figures, . . . . . . . .156
SECTION I.— Simile.
Why Similes Please, 157
Object of Simile, ......... 158
Rule 1. The Resemblance should not be too Near and Obvious, . . 159
Rule 2. The Resemblance should not be too Remote, . . .159
Rule 3. Should not be Drawn from Objects with which Ordinary Readers
are Unacquainted, ........ 160
Rule 4. Should not be Drawn from what is Mean and Low, . . 160
Rule 5. Should not be Stilted, 161
Rule 6. Should not be Used in Cases of Strong Passion, . . .161
SECTION II. — Metaphor.
Difference between Metaphor and Simile, . . . . . .162
Rule 1. Metaphorical and Literal should not be Mixed, ... 164
Rule 2. One Metaphor should not be Mixed with Another, . . .165
Rule 3. Metaphors should not be Crowded Together, ... 165
Rule 4. Metaphors should not be Multiplied to Excess, . . .166
Rule 5. Metaphors should not be Carried too Far, .... 166
SECTION III.— Allegory.
Relations of Allegory to Metaphor and Simile, . . . .167
Allegory, Parable, and Fable, . . . . . . . .167
SECTION IV. — Antithesis.
Definition of the Subject, ........ 169
Rule in Regard to Antithesis, ....... 169
SECTION V. — Epigram.
Relation of Epigram to Antithesis, . . . . . . • . 171
SECTION VI. — Metonymy.
Definitions and Illustrations of the Subject, . . . . .171
SECTION VII.— Synecdoche.
Explanation of the Subject, . . . . . . . .172
SECTION VIII. — Interrogation.
Definition, ........... 173
Uses and Peculiarities, ........ 173
SECTION IX. — Exclamation.
Explanation of the Figure, . . . . . . . .174
X CONTENTS.
SECTION X.— Apostrophe. pAGB
Definition and Examples, . . . . . . .174
SECTION XI. —Personification.
Special Facilities in English, . . . . . . . .175
SECTION XII. — Hyperbole.
Caution in Regard to its Use 177
SECTION XIII. — Irony.
Its Uses, 178
CHAPTER V.
Special Properties.
Division of the Subject 197
SECTION I. — Sublimity.
I. What Constitutes Sublimity.
1. Vastness, . . . . . . . . .198
2. Power 198
3. Awfulness 200
4. Obscurity 200
5. Loudness of Sound, . . . . . . . .201
6. Moral Greatness, ........ 201
II. The Sublime in Writing.
1. Sublimity of Subject, .202
2. Vivid Conception of the Strong Points 203
3. Suppression of Belittling Details, . . . . .203
4. Simplicity and Conciseness of Expression, ... 204
SECTION II.— Beauty.
I. Beauty in General.
1. Color as an Element of Beauty 207
2. Figures, etc., M ... " * ..... 207
3. Motion, 208
4. Complex Beauty, ........ 209
5. Beauty of Countenance, . . . . . . .209
6. Moral Beauty 210
II. The Beautiful in Writing.
1. Beauty of Subject 211
2. Beauty of Expression, . . . . . . .211
3. Conciseness not Necessary, . . . . . .211
SECTION III. — Wit.
Ingredients of Wit 219
Definition of Wit, 211
Examples, ........... 213
Pun-a Species of Wit 214
CONTENTS. XI
PAGE
Examples of Pun, . . . . . . . . -214
Advantages and Disadvantages of Wit, ..... 216
SECTION V.— Humor.
Ingredients of Humor, . . . . . . . . .217
Humor Something Characterislic, ...... 218
Humor Kind-hearted 219
Difference between Humor and Wit, ...... 219
CHAPTER VI.
Versification.
The Foundation of Verse, . . . . . . . -220
The State of the Question, 220
Why a Thought in Verse Pleases more than the same in Prose, . . 221
Action of the Vocal Organs, ....... 222
Vocal Impulse, .......... 222
Strong and Light Impulses, ....... 222
Time between Impulses, ........ 222
Accent the Paramount Law, ....... 223
Foundation and Nature of Rhythm, . . . . . .224
The Conclusion 225
SECTION I.— Rhythm.
Definition of Terms, . . . . . . . . .225
Kinds of Feet, 226
Kinds and Varieties of Verse, . . . . . . . .227
Tables of Iambic and Trochaic Verse, ...... 229
Tables of Anapaestic and Dactylic Verse, . . . . . .230
SECTION II.— Rhyme.
Origin of Rhyme, 231
Definition 232
Single, Double, and Triple Rhymes, . . . . . . .233
Alliteration as a Species of Rhyme, ...... 233
True Rhyme 234
Conditions of Single Rhyme, 234
Conditions of Double and Triple Rhyme, . . . . . .235
Place of the Rhyming Word 236
Sectional Rhymes, . . . . . . . .237
SECTION III.— Blank Verse.
Usual Form, 237
Other Forms of Blank Verse, 238
SECTION IV.— Mixed Verse.
English Verse Different from Classic, . . . . . .238
Mixed Verse in English, ........ 239
English Hexameters, . . . . . . . . .239
Conditions of Success to Mixed Verse, ...... 239
Xii CONTENTS.
SECTION V.— Stanzas. PAGE
Rhythm-Royal, or Chaucerian Stanza, . . . . . .240
Spenserian Stanza, ......... 241
Sonnet Stanza, .......... 241
Psalm and Hymn Stanzas, ........ 242
Long, Short, Common, and Particular Metres, . . . . .243
SECTION VI.— Modern Verse Accentual.
Essential Difference between Ancient Verse and Modern, . . .247
Present State of English Verse, . 248
SECTION VII.— Elision.
Mistake of the Older Critics, 249
Requirements of Modern Verse in Regard to Elision, . . .249
CHAPTER VII.
Poetry.
Defective Definitions, 261
Poetry must be in the Form of Verse, ...... 261
The Matter must be Poetical in Essence, . . . . . .261
Definition of Poetry, . . . 263
SECTION I.— Epic Poetry.
1. The Subject must be Great and Heroic, 263
2. It must have Unity, 264
3. It must have a Hero, . . . . . . . . .265
4. It must have Many Actors and a Complex Plot, .... 265
5. It must be Serious and Earnest^ . . . . . . .265
6. The Story must be Interesting, ...... 265
SECTION II.— Dramatic Poetry.
Difference between the Drama and the Epic, . . . . .266
Unities of the Drama, . . 267
Tragedy and Comedy, . . . . . . . . .267
Farce, Opera, and Melodrama, . . . . . . .268
SECTION III.— Lyric Poetry.
1. Sacred Odes— Hymnic Poetry 269
2. Heroic Odes, 269
3. Moral Odes 269
4. Amatory Odes 269
5. Comic and Bacchanalian Songs, . . . . . . .270
6. Sonnets 270
SECTION IV.— Elegiac Poetry.
Character and Form, 270
CONTENTS. Xlll
SECTION V. — Pastoral Poetry. PAGE
Its Character, .......... 271
Eclogues, .......... 271
Idyls, 271
SECTION VI.— Didactic Poetry.
Its Character, .......... 272
Meditative Poetry, . . . . . . • • .272
Satire and Lampoon, ......... 272
CHAPTER VIII.
Prose Composition.
Definition and Varieties, . . . . . . . .273
SECTION I.— Letters.
An Important Species of Composition, . . . . . .273
What is Required in a Letter, . . . . . . .274
The Forms to be Observed in Letter- Writing, ..... 275
I. The Heading.
1. The Place of Writing, 275
2. The Time of Writing, or Date, 276
II. The Address.
The Military Form, 277
Ordinary Letters, 277
Business Letters, ........ 278
III. The Subscription.
Signing Initials 278
Married Women and Widows, ...... 279
Arrangement of the Subscription, ' . . . . . .280
IV. The Superscription.
Why Important, . . ' . . . . . .280
1. The Name, . . . . . ... . .280
2. The Title, 281
3. The Residence, 282
SECTION II.— Diaries.
Essential Character, . . . . . . . ... 283
The Style, 283
Importance of Accuracy in Dates, ...... 284
SECTION III.— News.
Literary Character of News, ........ 284
Things to be Aimed at in News- Writing, ..... 285
1. Accuracy, . . . . . . . . .285
2. Condensation, ........ 286
3. Perspicuity 286
2
XIV CONTENTS.
SECTION IV.— Editorials. PAGE
A High Order of Composition, ....... 287
Difference between Editorials and News, . . . . . .288
SECTION V. — Reviews.
Character, .......... 288
Macaulay as a Reviewer, . . . . . . . .290
Other Reviewers, 290
SECTION VI.— Essays.
Different from Reviews, ........ 291
Present Mode of Publication, . 291
SECTION VII.— Treatises.
How Different from Essays, . . . . . . . .292
Text-Books, 293
SECTION VIII.— Travels.
Compared with Diaries, ........ 293
Accuracy Important, . . . . . . . . .293
Other Qualities, 293
SECTION IX.— History.
Its General Character, . . . . . . . . .294
Unity of Subject, . 294
Chronological Order, . . . . . . . . . 295
General Qualities of Historical Narration, ..... 295
Gravity of Style, 296
Delineation of Characters, ........ 297
Sound Morals to be Enforced, ........ 297
Annals, Memoirs, Biographies, etc., ...... 297
SECTION X.— Fiction.
Definition . . . .298
Its Prevalence 299
Historical Novels 299
Delineation of Character, ..;..... 300
Effects of Novel-Reading 300
Religious Fictions — Sunday-School Books, ..... 300
SECTION XI.— Discourses.
Orations . . . .301
Addresses, .... ...... 301
Sermons, ........... 302
Lectures, .......... 302
Speeches, ........... 302
Rules for Constructing Discourses, ...... 303
1. Unity 303
2. Adaptation to the Audience, ...... 303
3. Symmetry of Parts, . . 304
CONTENTS. XV
PART II.
>&&
INVENTION.
Definition of Invention, ......... 306
Method Adopted in the Present Work 307
CHAPTER I.
On Objects.
Composition on Paper, . . . . . . . . .808
Other Subjects for Composition, ....... 310
CHAPTER II.
On Transactions.
Composition on Going to School, . . . . . . .312
Other Subjects for Composition, ....... 314
CHAPTER III.
On Abstract Subjects.
Composition on Fear, . . . . . . . . .315
Other Subjects for Composition, ..... 317
CHAPTER IV.
On Imaginary Subjects.
Compositions on the Man in the Moon, . . . . . .319
Other Subjects for Composition, ....... 324
CHAPTER V.
Personal Narratives.
Compositions on How I Spent my Vacation, . . . . .326
Composition on a Trip by Railroad, ...... 330
Other Subjects for Composition, . . . . . . .334
XVI CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
Descriptions.
PAGE
Our Cat and the Rabbit, Described, . 336
The Scene from Trenton Bridge, Described, ..... 338
Other Subjects for Description, . . . . . . .340
CHAPTER VII.
Miscellaneous Subjects.
Recapitulation, 341
General List of Subjects for Compositions, 342
CHAPTER VIII.
On Proof-Reading.
Correcting Compositions, . . . . . . . .347
An Example of a Proof-Sheet, ....... 348
Explanations of the Corrections, . . . . . . .349
An Example of a Proof-Sheet Corrected, ..... 350
CHAPTER IX.
On the Study of the English Language, . . . . . .851
ALPHABETICAL INDEX . 380
Introduction.
1. Rhetoric is the science which treats of discourse.
2. By Discourse is meant any expression of thought by
means of language.
3. Discourse may be either oral or written.
Note 1. Rhetoric referred originally to spoken discourse only.
This is shown by the etymology of the word, the original Greek
prrropLKT] [rhetorihe) meaning the art of speaking, from prjrwp [rhetor),
a speaker. But since the invention of printing, and the general
diffusion of books, speaking forms only a part of the means by
which man discourses, or makes known in language his thoughts to
others. While, therefore, for convenience, the term Rhetoric is
retained, the science itself is extended in its scope, and is made
to embrace every kind of discourse, whether oral or written.
Note 2. Rhetoric, as thus defined, includes both "Written Com-
position and Oratory ; but the two may with great convenience and
propriety be treated of separately. In the present treatise, there-
fore, all that part of the subject which is peculiar to Oratory,
including Vocal Delivery, is omitted, and the work is limited
strictly to written discourse. Rhetoric, as a subject of study in
schools, has long since practically become thus limited in its scope,
while Oratory has branched off into a separate study.
Note 3. Rhetoric is closely allied, on the one side, to Grammar,
which determines the laws of language, and, on the other, to Logic,
which determines the laws of thought.
2* B 17
18 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Note 4. In establishing principles and rules for conducting dis-
course, Rhetoric assumes as true whatever is determined by the
sciences of Grammar and Logic. A discourse, though rhetorical
in other respects, will lose much of its effect, if the expression is
nngrammatical or the thought illogical. On the other hand, how-
ever, an expression may violate no rule, either of Grammar or of
Logic, and yet be faulty. Rhetoric, in other words, has require-
ments of its own, in addition to those of Grammar and Logic.
Note 5. In treating of discourse, we naturally divide the subject
into two parts — that which considers the matter, or thought to be
expressed, and that which considers the mode of expression. The
former of these is usually treated under the head of Invention, the
latter under the head of Style.
Note 6. Theoretically, it is, perhaps, more philosophical to treat
first of Invention, and then of Style. It seems but natural that we
should first find out what to say, and then study how to say it. But
there are practical conveniences in following a different order.
Invention is the most difficult part of the subject, requiring no
little maturity of mind on the part of the learner. Style, on the
other hand, connects itself closely with grammatical studies, which
always precede the study of Rhetoric, and it has many details of a
simple and positive character, about which the judgment of pupils
may be exercised, long before they can enter with profit upon the
process of original thought required by Invention. In the present
treatise, therefore, Style is considered first, and Invention after-
wards.
Note 7. While the general subject of Invention is thus placed
last, the simpler kinds of exercises in it are clearly suitable to those
who are just beginning the study of Rhetoric. It is, therefore,
recommended to the student to take up some of these simpler ex-
ercises at the same time that he begins the study of Style, and thus
to carry on the study of the two portions of the book contempora-
neously ; in other words, to practise Invention while studying Style.
4. Rhetoric is divided into two parts ; namely, Part I.,
Style ; Part II., Invention.
Part I
STYLE.
1. Style is that part of Rhetoric which treats of the mode
of expression.
Note 1. Any verbal expression of thought, even in its lowest and
plainest forms, brings us within the domain of Grammar. But,
beyond the bare expression of the meaning, we can conceive of it
as being uttered awkwardly or elegantly, plainly or figuratively,
concisely or diffusely, and in a great variety of other ways ; and the
consideration of these various methods of expression takes us at
once beyond the region of Grammar, and brings us into that of
Rhetoric.
Note 2. Style is sometimes used in a more restricted sense,
namely, to indicate certain special kinds of writing and speaking.
But there is no necessity for limiting the meaning of the word in
this way. Webster very properly defines Style to be the " mode of
expressing thought in language, whether oral or written," and in
this broad sense the word is used in the present treatise.
Note 3. The word Style comes from the Latin stylus, a small
steel instrument used by the Romans for writing on waxen tablets.
The stylus was to the Roman writer what the pen is to us, and be-
came, by an easy metaphor, the means of expressing any one's
method of composition, just as we now, by a like metaphor, speak
of a gifted pen, a ready pen, meaning thereby a gifted or a ready
author.
19
20 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Note 4. Style is concerned equally with Prose and Poetry, and
with the various figures of speech which are common to both ; it is
coextensive with the whole range of composition and of discourse,
both oral and written. To find out what to say is the business of
Invention ; but the moulding of the materials thus furnished be-
longs to Style. It includes in its scope whatever, in the arts and
contrivances of speech, can make the expression of thought more
effective. In its lower forms, it treats of Punctuation and the use
of Capitals, and of other contrivances of a mechanical sort, which
help to give clearness to the meaning, while in its higher forms it
enters upon the region of the Imagination and the Passions, and
deals with questions of Taste and Fancy.
2. The various topics included in Style are discussed under
the following heads : 1, Punctuation and Capitals; 2, Dic-
tion ; 3, Sentences ; 4, Figures ; 5, Special Properties
of Style ; 6, Versification ; 7, Poetry ; 8, Prose Com-
position.
CHAPTER I.
PUNCTUATION AND CAPITALS.
1. Punctuation is the art of dividing written discourse into
sections by means of points, for the purpose of showing the
grammatical connection and dependence, and of making the
sense more obvious.
2. Capitals are used for a like purpose, and, therefore,
they may with propriety be treated of at the same time with
the Points.
Note 1. That the sense is made more obvious to the eye by the use of points
and capitals will be evident to any one who will make the experiment. Take
almost any familiar sentence, and write it as the ancients used to write, that is,
unpointed and unspaced, and with the letters either all small or all capital, and
it will require no little skill and patience to decipher the meaning. A reader not
apprised of what had been done would be apt to mistake the sentence for some-
thing in a foreign language. Here is an example, first in capitals, next in small
letters, and then in the form now in use :
READINGMAKETHAFULLMANCONFERENCEAREADYMANWRITINGAN
EXACTMAN.
readingmakethafullmanconferenceareadymanwritinganexactman.
Reading maketh a full man ; conference, a ready man ; writing, an exact man.
Note 2. The word Punctuation is from the Latin punctum, a point. The
points now used in writing were unknown to the ancients. Aristophanes, a
grammarian of Alexandria, about two and a half centuries before the Christian
era, introduced some of the marks now used in punctuation. But the points
did not come into common use until the time of Aldus Manutius, a learned
printer of Venice, who reduced the matter to a system about the year 1500, and,
by the extreme beauty and accuracy of his editions, gave it general currency.
Note 3. The word Capital is from the Latin caput, a head. The letters of the
word or words forming the caput, heading, or title of a discourse, are called ^ad-
letters, or capitals.
21
22 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Note 4. The capital letters were those first Invented, and were in use many
centuries before the invention of the small letters. The oldest manuscripts now
in existence, some of which date as far back as the third century, are written
entirely in capitals, and are likewise almost without points, and without spacing
between the words. The small letters were first introduced about the seventh
century ; but, for some time after the introduction of the small letters, the capi-
tals continued to be used much more than they are now.
Note 5. It is sometimes stated, in works on Rhetoric and Grammar, that the
points are for the purposes of elocution, and directions are given to pupils to
pause a certain time at each of the stops. It is true that a pause required for
elocutionary purposes does sometimes coincide with a grammatical point, and
so the one aids the other. Yet it should not be forgotten that the first and main
end of the points is to mark grammatical divisions. Good elocution often re-
quires a pause where there is no break whatever in the grammatical continuity,
and where the insertion of a point would make nonsense. For instance, the
most common of all the elocutionary pauses is that made for the purpose of em-
phasis. If we wish to make a word emphatic, the way to do so, except in rare
cases, is not to pronounce it very loudly, but to make a pause after it. This
pause calls attention to the word, and with only a slight change in the tone of
the voice makes the word emphatic. The insertion of a point to mark this pause
would often detach adjectives from their nouns, nominatives from their verbs,
and would, in many other equally absurd ways, break up the connection of the
sentence. The following line from Shakespeare requires after "words" and
" thoughts " a pause equal to that ordinarily assigned to a semicolon, perhaps
equal to that assigned to a period.
" My words fly up, my thoughts remain below."
If a point were inserted to mark this pause, the whole meaning of the sentence
would be obscured. Thus : " My words ; fly up, my thoughts ; remain below."
If it were desirable to mark these elocutionary pauses by typographical arrange-
ments, perhaps the best way would be to do it by spacing. Thus :
" My words fly up, my thoughts remain below."
3. The principal grammatical points are five, namely,
1. The Comma, ,
2. The Semicolon, ;
3. The Colon, :
4. The Period,
5. The Interrogation, ?
Note. These points have various degrees of disjunctive force, in separating
the parts of a sentence from each other. This force may be expressed briefly, as
follows : The Period, except when used for an abbreviation, marks the greatest
separation of all, the parts between which it is placed being thereby rendered
grammatically entirely independent of each other ; the Colon marks a separa-
tion somewhat less than that of the Period ; the Semicolon, less than that of the
Colon ; and the Comma, less than that of the Semicolon. The Interrogation,
PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 23
though usually counted as equivalent to a period, may be equivalent to a comma,
a semicolon, a colon, or a period, according to circumstances.
4. Besides the five points already named, several other
characters are used for similar purposes. The most common
of these are the following :
The Exclamation, !
The Dash, —
The Parenthesis, ( )
The Bracket, [ ]
The Quotation, " "
The Apostrophe, '
Note. There seems no more necessity for saying Interrogation Point, Excla-
mation Point, etc., than for saying Comma Point, Semicolon Point. Custom,
however, still obliges us to use the expression in some connections.*
SECTION I.
The Comma.
The Comma marks the smallest of the grammatical divi-
sions of discourse that require a point.
Note 1. The word Comma, Greek Konna, comma, (from kotttw, copto, to cut,)
denotes something cut off, a section. It was used originally to denote, not the
mark, but the portion of the sentence thus set off. The same is true of the words
semicolon and colon. They meant originally portions of discourse, not, as now,
the marks by which those portions are set off. Period, Interrogation, Paren-
thesis, and some other like words, are used in both senses ; they mean portions
of discourse, and also the marks by which those portions are set off.
Note 2. The uses of the comma, which are very numerous, may nearly all be
reduced to two heads. 1. The comma is used to set off by itself any part of a
sentence which is, in some measure, detached in meaning from the rest, and
which has a sort of grammatical coherence and completeness of its own. 2. The
comma is used to mark an ellipsis of some kind. Example: " Reading maketh
a full man ; conference, a ready man ; writing, an exact man." Here the ellipsis
of the verb maketh, after " conference," and after " writing," is indicated by the
insertion of the comma.
Note 3. Although nearly every conceivable instance of the use of the comma
may be reduced under one or the other of these heads, yet for practical conven-
24 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
ience in teaching its use, the various instances may very properly be classified,
forming a series of independent, though connected rules.*
Rule 1. Parenthetical Expressions. — Phrases and single
words, used parenthetically, should be separated from the rest
of the sentence by commas.
Note 1. Phrases and words are parenthetical when they are not essential to
the meaning and structure of the sentence in which they stand. Such words
and phrases belong rather to some unexpressed thought that is in the mind,
than to the thought actually expressed. Thus, " It is mind, after all, which does
the work of the world." Here the phrase " after all " does not belong to the verb
" does." The author does not mean to say that mind does the work of the world,
after doing everything else. In like manner, it does not modify any other part
of the expressed sentence. On the contrary, it belongs to some unexpressed
thought, as though we were to say, " After all that can be claimed for other agents,
we may still claim for the mind, that it does the work of the world." Sometimes
the parenthetical word or phrase refers to what is expressed in the preceding
sentence. Thus, " The danger was fully explained to him. His passions, how-
ever, prevented his seeing it." Parenthetical expressions, then, are such as are
not necessary to the structure and meaning of the sentence in which they stand,
if taken alone, but they are a part of the machinery, so to speak, by which the
sentence is connected with some preceding sentence, or with some unexpressed
sentence or thought existing in the mind of the writer. They are, in fact, of a
conjunctional, rather than of an adverbial character.
Note 2. Many phrases and clauses, now treated as parenthetical expressions,
and separated from the rest of the sentence by commas, were formerly inclosed
by marks of parenthesis. The difference between a parenthesis and a parentheti-
cal expression is mainly one of degree. If the clause or expression, thus thrust
into the body of a sentence, is altogether independent in character, and may be
omitted without disturbing the construction, or impairing the meaning, it is still
usually inclosed in a parenthesis. But commas are gradually displacing the
parenthesis, except in extreme and very manifest cases.
Note 3. Some of the phrases in common use, which require to be separated
from the rest of the sentence by commas, are the following :
in short, in truth, to be sure,
in fact, as it were, to be brief,
in fine, as it happens, after all,
in reality, no doubt, you know,
in brief, in a word, of course.
When these parenthetical expressions come at the beginning, or at the end of a
sentence, they are, of course, set off by only a single comma; as, " To be sure,
the man was rather conceited." " The affair passed off to your satisfaction, no
doubt." See foot-note below.
* In framing these rules, it is customary to say, of certain clauses or sections of a
sentence, that they are separated from the rest of the sentence by commas, meaning
that they have a comma before and a comma after. In some instances, the section
thus designated occurs at the beginning of the sentence, in which case it will of
course have no comma before it; or, it may occur at the end of a sentence, in which
case it will have after it, not a comma, but a period, or some other mark greater than
PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 25
Note 4. Some of the single words used parenthetically, and ordinarily re-
quiring to be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas, are the follow-
ing:
therefore, namely, moreover,
then, consequently, surely,
however, indeed, accordingly,
perhaps, too, finally.
Note 8. Most of the words last named are capable of two constructions.
They may belong either to the proposition as a whole, or to a single word in it.
It is only when used in the former sense that they require to be set off by commas.
Two or three examples will show the difference :
On this statement, then, you may entirely rely. Then I believed you, now I do
not.
I thought, too, that you were discontented. I think you are too selfish.
He promised, however, to set about reform at once. However much he prom-
ised, it was but little that he performed.
In all these cases, it will be noticed that when the word has an adverbial char-
acter, no commas are required ; but when the word becomes connective or con-
junctional, it must be set off from the rest by commas.
Note 6. Some words not of a parenthetical character, yet when standing at
the beginning of a sentence, and referring to the sentence as a whole, rather
than to a particular word, are set off by a comma; as, "Well, do as you like."
" Why, this is all wrong." Some of the words thus used are well, why, now, yes,
no, nay, again, further, first, secondly, thirdly, etc. In like manner, here and there,
now and then, when used to introduce contrasted expressions, are set off by a
comma ; as, " Here, all is peace and quietness ; there, all is turmoil and strife."
Examples for Practice.*
1. Gentleness is in truth the great avenue to real enjoyment.
2. The locomotive bellows as it were from the fury of passion.
a comma. In the great majority of cases, however, the sections designated by the use
of the comma occur in the body of the sentence, requiring a comma before and a
comma after ; and the rules will be expressed in this general manner, leaving it to the
common sense of the student to make the necessary correction in the case of sections
thus cut off at the beginning or at the end of a sentence, and without stopping to
make a special exception under each rule.
*To the Teacher. 1. In these and the other examples for practice which will
be given throughout the book, constant vigilance must be used to prevent the pupils
from markinff the corvectious in the book. A book so marked is valueless for
the purpose of study or instruction. It should at once be destroyed, and replaced by
a new copy at the expense of the offending party. A stated inspection of the books,
for the purpose of preventing this fraud, is as necessary a part of the teacher's duty,
as it is to examine the exercises presented.
2. The exercises should not be brought in written out beforehand, but should in all
cases be written in the class-room. This should be considered an essential part of the
recitation. There is no other way of ascertaining that the pupil makes the correc-
tions from his own independent judgment, and unless he does this, the exercise is a
mere waste of time.
3. In most cases, the following will be found a convenient mode of procedure: 1.
Let the students seriatim present their books at the teacher's desk for inspection,
each book, as presented, being open at the page containing the lesson, and let the
books remain there piled, until the lesson is over. 2. Let the teacher dictate the ex-
amples, and the students write and correct them, using for this purpose either the
blackboards, slates, or paper, according to circumstances.
3
26 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
3. He knows very well come what may that the note will be paid.
4. He had no doubt great aptitude for learning languages.
5. He went home accordingly and arranged his business in the
manner described.
6. There are in truth only two things to be considered namely his
honesty and his ability.
7. Come then and let us reason together.
8. No nation gin short, is free from danger.
9. When, however, the hour for the trial came, the man was not
to be found.
10. Why those are the very books you want.
11. I proceed fourthly to prove the fact from your own admis-
sions.
12. On the other hand there is great danger in delay.
13. We must however. pay some respect to the opinions of one
who has had so large an experience.
14. I have shown how just and equitable the arrangement is ; and
now what is the fair conclusion ?
15. Attend first to the study of arithmetic; and secondly, to that
of algebra.
16. Feudalism is in fact. the embodiment of pride.
17. The meeting, after all was something of a failure.
18. Besides it may be of the greatest importance to you in your
business.
Rule 2. Intermediate Expressions. — Clauses and expres-
sions, not parenthetical in character, yet so placed as to come
between some of the essential parts of the sentence, as, for
instance, between the subject and the predicate, may be called
intermediate expressions, and they should be separated from
the rest of the sentence by commas.
Note.— Care should be taken to distinguish these intermediate expressions
from such as are properly restrictive in their character. An expression is re-
strictive, when it limits the meaning of some particular word to some particular
sense. Thus, " The man who plants the field ought to reap the harvest." Here
it is not " the man " merely, but " the man who plants the field," that is the sub-
ject of " ought." A separation of the relative and its adjuncts from " man." by
means of commas, would destroy the sense. The clause, therefore, is restrictive.
It limits the meaning to that particular man. But suppose I say, "Joseph, who
happened to be in the field at the time, saw the carriage approach, and, in an
ecstasy of delight, hastened to meet it." Here, the expression, " who happt 0M <1
PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 27
to be in the field at the time," is- properly a relative clause, and comes under
Rule 4 (p. 28); and the expression, "in an ecstasy of delight," is properly inter-
mediate, and comes under Rule 2. The former breaks the continuity between
the subject and the predicate ; the latter, between the two predicates.
Examples for Practice.
1. Classical studies , regarded merely as a means of culture, are
deserving of general attention.
2. The sun with all its train of attendant planets is but a small
and inconsiderable portion of the universe.
3. We have endeavored ,in the preceding paragraph, to show the
incorrectness of his position.
4. Nature ^through all her works 7delights in variety.
5. The speaker proceeded ^with the greatest animation, to depict
the horrors of the scene.
6. Christianity is^in a most important sense, the religion of sor-
row.
y 7. A man of great wealth,may for want of education and refine-
ment of manner, be a mere cipher in society.
8. Truth Jike gold ,shines brighter by collision.
9. Charity, on whatever side we contemplate it , is one of the
highest Christian graces.
10. One hour a day ^steadily given to a particular study, will
bring in time large accumulations.
Rule 3. Dependent and Conditional Clanses. — Dependent
and conditional clauses should be separated from the rest of
the sentence by a comma, or by commas.
Note 1. Clauses are dependent, when one of them is subject to the other for
the completion of the sense.
Note 2. One of the dependent clauses usually begins with if, unless, until,
when, where, or other word expressive of condition, purpose, cause, time, place,
and the like ; as, " If you would succeed in business, be honest and industrious."
" The tree will not bear fruit in autumn, unless it blossoms in spring." This
conditional word, however, is not always expressed, the condition being some-
times implied ; as, " Breathe into a man an earnest purpose, and you awaken in
him a new power." Here the meaning is, "If you breathe into a man an
earnest purpose, you will awaken," etc.
Note 3. This rule does not apply where the grammatical connection is very
close, the succeeding clause in that case being of a restrictive character ; as,
" You will reap as you sow," " You may go when you please."
28 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Note 4. For the same reason, clauses united by the conjunction thai should
not be separated by a comma; as, " He went abroad thai he might have oppor-
tunities for study." When, however, the conjunction is removed some distance
from the verb, or the words " in order " precede, so that the grammatical con-
tinuity is somewhat broken, the comma is used ; as, " He went through the prin-
cipal provinces of the empire, that he might see for himself the condition of the
people." " He went abroad, in order that he might see foreign countries."
Examples for Practice.
Note. In punctuating these examples and those which are to follow, insert
not oidy the points required by the rule under consideration, but also those
required by all the preceding rules.
1. If you would succeed in business t be punctual in observing
your engagements.
2. The days in December^ you know., are at their shortest, and
therefore, you must rise by the dawn ^ if you would have much
daylight.
3. The reader should t however? as he proceeds from sentence to
sentencecmake a note of whatever strikes his attention.
4. The good which you do , may not be lost, though it may be
forgotten.
5. Good deeds though forgotten, are not in every case lost.
6. John went last year to Canton{ where he is doing ,they say, an
excellent business.
V. If wishes were horses beggars might ride.
8. Unless you bridle your tongue ,you will assuredly be shut out
from good society.
9. We should , in all probability, be ashamed of much that we
boast of ( could the world see our real motive.
10. Attend that you may receive instruction.
11. You may go home as soon as you like.
12. One object of studying Khetoric is, that we may compose
better.
Questions. Which of the commas used in Note 1 can be explained
by any of the rules given thus far? — which in Note 2? — which in
Note 3? — which in Note 4?
Rule 4. Relative Causes not Restrictive. — Clauses intro-
duced by a relative pronoun, if not restrictive, should be sepa-
rated from the rest of the sentence by commas.*
* The teacher should at thlfl point take particular pains in accustoming the stu-
dent to distinguish clearly and promptly between clause* which are, and those
PUNCTUA TION— COMMA. 29
Note 1. See Note under Rule 2, for an explanation of what is meant by re-
strictive clauses.
Note 2. A comma should be put before the relative, even when used restric-
tively, if it is immediately followed by a word or a phrase inclosed in commas ;
as, " Those friends, who, in the native vigor of his powers, perceived the dawn of
Robertson's future eminence, were at length amply rewarded."
Note 3. A comma should be put before the relative, even when used re-
strictively, if several words intervene between it and its grammatical antece-
dent ; as, " He preaches most eloquently, who leads the most pious life." In like
manner, of which and of whom, even when used restrictively, are preceded by a
comma ; as, " No thought can be just, of which good sense is not the ground-
work."
Note 4. When the relative has for its antecedent several succeeding nouns or
clauses, it should be separated from them by a comma, even though the relative
clause is restrictive. Thus : " There are fruits which never ripen." " There are
apples, pears, and plums, which never ripen." Here, if the comma after
" plums " is omitted, the fact of never ripening is restricted to plums, and the
meaning is, " There are apples, there are pears, and there are unripening plums.''
But, by inserting the comma, the restriction is made to refer to all three of these
objects.
Examples for Practice.
1. A fierce spirit of rivalry t which is at all times a dangerous pas-
sion ?had now taken full possession of him.
2. The spirit which actuated him^was a thirst for vengeance.
3. The man of letters ( who has constantly before him examples
of excellence, ought himself to be a pattern of excellence.
4. Books,which are the repositories of knowledge, are an indispen-
sable part of the furniture of a house.
5. Every teacher must love a pupil who is docile.
6. The child was much attached to his teacher, who loved him
dearly.
7. Patriotism consists>4n loving the country in which we were
born.
8. The eye which sees all things, is unseen to itself.
9. Death is the season which tests our principles.
10. No man can be thoroughly proficient in navigation, who has
never been at sea.
11. The father of Epic poetry is Homer, who has given us<in the
Iliad the story of Troy divine.
which are not, restrictive. "It is barbarous to injure men who have shown us a
kindness." Here the first part of the sentence lays down a proposition, and the
relative clause restricts the meaning to certain persons. "Give time to the study
of nature, whose laws are all deeply interesting." Here the relative clause is not
restrictive, but merely presents an additional thought.
3*
30 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
12. The powers which now move the world are the printing-press
and the telegraph.
13. America,may well boast of her Washington^whose character
and fame are the common property of the world.
Questions. Which of the commas used in Note 2 can be ex-
plained by any of the rules now given? — which in Note 3? —
which in Note 4? — which in the foot-note?
Rule 5. A Continued Sentence consisting of Co-ordinate
Sentences. — In a continued sentence, consisting of co-ordi-
nate sentences, the several co-ordinate sentences, if simple in
construction, are separated from each other by commas.
Note. If, however, these coordinate members are complex and involved,
especially if they have commas within themselves, the members should be
separated by a semicolon ; as, " Crafty men, though they may pretend otherwise,
contemn studies ; simple men, though they really care nothing about the matter,
yet pretend to admire them ; wise men only use them."
Examples for Practice.
1. Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them^and wise
men use them.
2. Speak as you mean , do as you profess, perform what you
promise.
3. Caesar was dead, the senators were dispersed ^all Rome was in
confusion.
4. France was again reduced to its original geographical bounda-
ries, and England tafter a struggle of twenty years^was undisputed
mistress of the seas.
5. Modern engineering spans whole continents^tunnels alike moun-
tains and rivers^and dykes out old ocean himself.
Rule 6. Expressions forming a Series. — Grammatical ex-
pressions in the same construction, forming a series, should
be separated from each other, and from what follows, by
commas.
Note 1. A grammatical expression is a collection of words, having some
grammatical dependence and connection, but not containing in themselves a
predicate.
PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 31
Note 2. If the expressions are brief, and there are but two of them, connected
by and, or, or nor, no comma between them is needed ; as, " Hard study and
neglect of exercise impair the health." If, however, the two connected expres-
sions differ much in form, it is better to set them off by commas; as, "Hard
study, and the entire absence of attention to the matter of diet, bring on
Note 3. If the series of expressions brings the sentence to a close, the last of
them, of course, is not followed by a comma, but by a period or some other point
greater than a comma. See foot-note, p. 24.
Examples for Practice.
1, Love for study, a desire to do right ;&nd carefulness in the
choice of friends, are important traits of character.
2." To cleanse our opinions from falsehood; our hearts from malig-
nity and our actions from vice, is our chief concern.
3. Did God create for the poor, a coarser earth;a thinner air, a
paler sky ? }
4. Infinite space , endless numbers. and eternal duration, fill the
mind with great ideas.
5. On the rich and the eloquent,on nobles and priests the Puritans
looked down with contempt.
Question. What commas in Rule 6, and in Notes 1 and 2, can be
explained by any of the rules thus far given ?
Kule 7. Words forming a Series. — Words in the same con-
struction, forming a series, admit of the following three cases :
1. There may be a conjunction between each two of the words;
as, " Industry and honesty and frugality and temperance are among
the cardinal virtues." In this case, none of the words in the series
are to be separated by commas.
2. The conjunction may be omitted, except between the last two
of the words; as, "Industry, honesty, frugality, and temperance
are among the cardinal virtues." In this case, all the words are to
be separated from each other by commas.
3. The conjunction may be omitted between the last two words,
as well as between the others; as, "Industry, honesty, frugality,
temperance, are among the cardinal virtues." In this case, not only
all the words of the series are to be separated from each other by
commas, but a comma is to be inserted also after the last word, to
separate it from what follows.
32 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Note 1. A comma is not in any case to be inserted after the last word of a
series, if what follows is only a single word ; as, " The good will form hereafter
stronger, purer, holier ties."
Note 2. In such expressions as "A beautiful white horse." no comma should
be inserted between the two adjectives, because they are not in the same gram-
matical construction. " White " belongs to " horse " merely. "Beautiful" be-
longs properly to the whole expression " white horse." It is not simply the
*' horse," but the " white horse " that is said to be beautiful.
Examples for Practice.
1. He was brave and pious and patriotic in all his aspirations.
2. He was brave/pious^nd patriotic in all his aspirations.
3. He was brave ^ious^patriotic in all his aspirations.
4. He was a brave, pious;patriotic man.
5. Aright, al eft, above^below, he whirled the rapid sword.
6. The address was beautifully,elegantly7and forcibly written.
7. Can flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death ?
8. Within,around,and above us, we see traces of the Creator's hand.
9. We are fearfully, wonderfully made.
10. The sun, the moon^he planets, the stars, revolve.
11. The sun^he moon,the planets ^the stars^are all in motion.
12. The sun, the moon?the planets ^and the stars are all in motion.
13. Virtue religion is the one thing needful.
14. It is a useful accomplishment to be able to read write, spell, or
cipher with accuracy.
15. Woe?woe?to the rider that tramples them down.
16. Aristotle jHamiltonWhately, and McCosh are high authorities
in logic.
17. The ai^the earth the water }teem with life.
Question. Which of the commas used in the Rule and the Notes
can be explained by the Rules already given ?
Rule 8. Words or Phrases in Pairs. — Words or phrases
in pairs take a comma after each pair.
Examples for Practice.
1. Anarchy and confusion y poverty and distress , desolation and
ruin.are the consequences of civil war.
2. Truth and integrity, kindness and modesty, reverence and devo
tion^were all remarked in him.
PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 33
3. The poor and the rich, the weak and the strong;the young and
the old have one common Father.
4. To have and to hold^for better for worse, for richer for poorer ;
in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish.
5. Eating or 'drinking ^laboring or sleeping, let us do all in mod
eration.
Rule 9. Nouns in Apposition. — A noun in apposition to
some preceding noun or pronoun, and having an adjunct con-
sisting of several words, should, with all its conuected words,
be separated from the rest of the sentence by commas.
Note 1. This construction is sometimes inverted, the noun in apposition.with
its adjuncts, being placed first. In that case, this preceding noun with its ad-
juncts should be separated from the main noun or pronoun by a comma ; as,
" Himself the greatest of agitators, Napoleon became the most repressive of
tyrants."
Note 2. Where the noun put in apposition stands alone, or has only an arti-
cle before it, no comma is required between said noun and the word with which
it is in apposition ; as, " Paul the apostle was a man of energy." " Mason
Brothers."
Note 3. A noun following another as a synonym, or as giving additional
illustration to the thought, is separated from the rest of the sentence by a comma
before and after; as, " The word Poet, meaning a maker, a creator, is derived
from the Greek."
Note 4. When a noun is predicated of the noun or pronoun with which it is
in apposition, no comma is required between them; as, "They have just elected
him Governor of the State."
Note 5. After several words containing a description of a person or thing, if
the name of the person or thing is added, it should be set off from the rest of the
sentence by commas ; as, " The greatest of poets among the ancients, Homer, like
the greatest among the moderns, Milton, was blind."
Note 6. A title, whether abbreviated or expressed in full, when annexed to
a noun or pronoun, must be set off by commas ; as. "At the request of the Rt. Rev.
W. H. Odenheimer, D,D., the ceremony was postponed."
Examples for Practice.
1. *Wetthe people of the United States, do hereby ordain and es-
tablish this Constitution.
2. Paul^the great apostle of the Gentiles3was a man of energy.
3. Virgiltthe chief poet among the Roraans^was fond of rural life.
4. The poet Shakespeare is now considered the greatest of writers,
ancient or modern.
C
34 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
5. Newton the great mathematician was a devout believer in
Christianity.
6. Spenser, the author of the Faery Queen^ lived in the time of
Queen Elizabeth.
7. Strength, energy is what you want.
8. Plutarch calls anger a brief madness.
9. The chief work of Chaucertthe Canterbury Tales suggested to
Longfellow^he plan of the Tales of a Wayside Inn.
10. John Chapman<Doctor of Medicine. John Chapman, M.D.
11. The wisest of the ancients Socrates wrote nothing.
12. A man of prodigious learning he was a pattern of modesty.
Rule 10. The Vocative Case. — A noun in the vocative
case, or, as it is called in English, the Case Independent, to-
gether with its adjunct words, should be separated from the
rest of the sentence by a comma, or commas.
Examples for Practice.
1. Accept vmy dear young friends^his expression of my regard.
- 2. I beg sirtto acknowledge the receipt of your favor.
3. I rise Mr. President, to a point of order.
4. Show pity, Lord! 0 Lord, forgive!
5. Remember sir, you cannot have it.
Rule 11. The Case Absolute. — A clause containing the
construction known as the case absolute should be separated
from the rest of the sentence by a comma, or commas.
Examples for Practice.
1. Then came Jesus, the doors being shut^nd stood in the midst.
2. A state of ease is^generally speaking;more attainable than a
state of pleasure.
3. Shame lost;all virtue is lost.
4. His father being dead, the prince ascended the throne.
5. I being in the wayvthe Lord led me to the house of my mas-
ter's brother.
Rule 12. Inverted Clauses. — An inverted clause, standing
PUNCTUATION— COMMA. 35
at the beginning of a sentence, should be separated from the
rest of the sentence by a comma.
Note 1. The infinitive mood, especially when used to express object or design,
is often inverted in this way ; as, " To obtain an education, he was willing to
make sacrifices." The expressions To proceed, to conclude, etc., when placed at the
beginning of a paragraph, and referring to the whole of it, should be separated
from what follows by a colon.
Note 2. In making alphabetical catalogues, compound names, such as John
Quiney Adams, are usually inverted, that is, the last word in the name, being
the principal one, is put first, and is then separated from the other parts of the
name by a comma; as, Adams, John Quiney.
Examples for Practice.
1. Awkward in person, he was ill adapted to gain respect.
2. Of all our senses;sight is the most important.
3. To supply the deficiency he resorted to a shameful trick.
4. Living in filth;the poor cease to respect one another.
5. To confess the truth ^1 never greatly admired him.
Rule 13. Ellipsis of the Verb. — In continued sentences,
having a common verb, which is expressed in one of the
members, but omitted in the others, the ellipsis of the verb
is marked by a comma.
Examples for Practice.
1. Reading maketh a full man; conference^ ready man; writing,
an exact man.
2. Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil ,the better artist.
3. Semiramis built Babylon; Dido , Carthage ; and Romulus^Rome.
Rule 14. Short Quotations. — A short quotation, or a sen-
tence resembling a quotation, should be preceded by a comma.
Examples for Practice.
1. Patrick Henry began his celebrated speech by saying Jit is
natural to man to indulge the illusions of hope."
2. A good rule in education is " Learn to be slow in forming your
opinions."
3. I say "There is no such thing as human perfection."
4. Some one justly remarks '{It is a great loss to lose an affliction."
36 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
SECTION II.
The Semicolon.
The Semicolon marks a division of a sentence somewhat
larger and more complex than that marked by a comma.
Note. The word is compounded of semi, half, and colon, and means a division
half as large as the colon.
Rule 1. Subdivided Members in Compound Sentences. —
When a sentence consists of two members, and these mem-
bers, or either of them, are themselves subdivided by com-
mas, the larger divisions of the sentence should be separated
by a semicolon.
Note 1. If the connection between these members is close, the semicolon is
not used. The word " when." introducing the first member, indicates this kind
of close connection, and prevents ordinarily the use of the semicolon. "As,"
and " so," introducing the two members, indicate a comparatively loose connec-
tion, and authorize the use of the semicolon, if the other conditions exist; as,
" As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not perceive it moving; so
our advances in learning, consisting of such minute steps, are perceivable only
by the distance."
The Rule itself furnishes an example of the semicolon omitted in a sentence
beginning with "when."
Note 2. When the members are considerably complex, they are sometimes
separated by a semicolon, even though not subdivided by commas; as, "So sad
and dark a story is scarcely to be found in any work of fiction ; and we are little
disposed to envy the moralist who can read it without being softened."
Examples for Practice.
1. Sparre was sulky and perverse because he was a citizen of a
republic. Sparre the Dutch general , was sulky and perverse because
according to Lord Mahon^ he was a citizen of a republic.
2. Bellasys the English general embezzled the stores,- because we
suppose, he was the subject of a monarchy. Bellasys embezzled the
stores because, he was the subject of a monarchy.
3. The most ridiculous weaknesses seemed to meet in the wretched
Solomon of Whitehall; pedantry buffoonery garrulity low curiosity
the most contemptible personal cowardice.
4. Men reasoned better for example in the time of Elizabeth than
in the time of Egbert; and they also wrote better poetry.
PUNCTUATION— SEMICOLON. 37
5. Milton was like Dante a statesman and a lover and like Dante
he had been unfortunate in ambition and in love.
6. This is an inconsistency, which more than anything else/aises
his character in our estimation * because it shows how many private
tastes and f eelingshe sacrificed, in order to do, what he considered,
his duty to mankind.
Kule 2. Clauses and Expressions having a Common De-
pendence.— When several clauses or grammatical expres-
sions of similar construction follow each other in a series, all
having a common dependence upon some other clause, they
are separated from each other by a semicolon, and from the
clause on which they all depend, by a comma.
Example: "Philosophers assert, that nature is unlimited in her operations;
that she has inexhaustible treasures in reserve ; that knowledge will always be
progressive; and that all iuture generations will continue to make discoveries."
Note. If the clause on which the series depends comes at the end of the sen-
tence, it is separated from the series, sometimes by a colon, and sometimes by a
comma followed by a dash. Thus : That nature is unlimited in her operations ;
that she has inexhaustible treasures in reserve ; that knowledge will always be
progressive ; and that all future generations will continue to make discoveries :
these are among the assertions of philosophers.
If we think of glory in the field ; of wisdom in the cabinet ; of the purest
patriotism ; of the highest integrity, public and private ; of morals without a
stain; of religious feeling without intolerance and without extravagance,— the
august figure of Washington presents itself as the personation of all these.
Examples for Practice.
1. Mr. Croker is perpetually stopping us in our progress through
the most delightful narrative in the language ,to observe that really
Dr. Johnson was very rude that he talked more for victory than
for truth that his taste for port-wine with capilliare in it was very
odd that Boswell was impertinent and that it was foolish in Mrs.
Thrale to marry the music-master.
2. To give an early preference to honor above gain when they
stand in competition to despise every advantage, which cannot be
attained without dishonest acts to brook no meanness,'and to stoop
to no dissimulations*are the indications of a great mind.
Rule 3. Sentences Connected in Meaning", but without
Grammatical Dependence. — When several sentences follow
4
38 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
each other, without any grammatical dependence, but con-
nected in meaning, they are usually separated from each
other by semicolons.
Example : " She presses her child to her heart ; she drowns it in her tears ;
her fancy catches more than an angel's tongue can describe."
Note. In all the cases which come under this Rule, two features are essential.
First, each of the several members forming the continued sentence should be
complete in itself, so that it might grammatically stand alone, with a period
following. Secondly, these several members should have some underlying
thread of connection in the thought. Authors differ in regard to the punctua-
tion, in these cases. Some insist on separating the members by a period. By
such a course, however, we lose one important means of marking nice changes
of thought. Others use the colon, instead of the semicolon, for these purposes.
This was the case formerly much more than now. The best usage at present is,
to employ a period, a colon, a semicolon, or a comma, according to the degree of
complexity or simplicity of the several sentences, and the degree of closeness or
looseness of connection in the thought. If the connection is close, and the suc-
cessive members are short and simple, the comma is used ; if the members are
somewhat longer, and especially if any of them are at all complex, the semi-
colon is used ; if, in addition to this, the connection in the thought is but faint,
the colon is used ; and when the connection almost disappears, the period is
used. The connection in the thought does not disappear entirely until the close
of the paragraph.
Examples for Practice.
1. Stones grow vegetables grow and live animals grow live and
feel.
2. The summer is over and gone .the winter is here with its frosts
and snow the wind howls in the chimney at night the beast in the
forest forsakes its lair the birds of the air seek the habitation of men.
3. The temples are profaned; the soldier's oath resounds in the
house of God the marble pavement is trampled by iron hoofs* horses
neigh beside the altar.
Rule 4. The Clause Additional. — When a sentence com-
plete in itself is followed by a clause which is added by way
of inference, explanation, or enumeration, the additional
clause, if formally introduced by some connecting word, is
separated from the main body of the sentence by a semi-
colon ; but, if merely appended without any such connecting
word, by a colon.
1. Apply yourself to study ; for it will redound to your honor.
2. Apply yourself to study : it will redound to your honor.
PUNCTUATION— COLON. 39
Note 1. Some of the connecting words most commonly used for this purpose
are namely, for, but, yet, to wit, etc.
Note 2. The word as, when used to connect an example with a rule, should
be preceded by a semicolon and followed by a comma.
Examples for Practice.
1. Greece has given us three great historians/ namely Herodotus
Xenophon and Thucydides.
2. Some writers divide the history of the world into four ages /
viz. the golden age the silver age the bronze age, and the iron age.
3. Some writers divide the history of the world into four ages .'
the golden age the silver age the bronze age and the iron age.
4. Cicero in his treatise on morals enumerates four cardinal vir-
tues to wit Fortitude Temperance Justice and Prudence.
Rule 5. A General Term in Apposition to the Particulars
nnder it. — When a general term stands in apposition to
several others which are particulars under it, the general
term is separated from the particulars by a semicolon, and
the particulars are separated from each other by commas.
Note. If the enumeration of the particulars is given with much formality,
so as to make the several expressions complex, containing commas of their own,
then these particulars must be separated from the general term by a colon, and
from each other by semicolons; as, —
Adjective Pronouns are divided into three classes; Distributive, Demonstra-
tive, and Indefinite.
Adjective Pronouns are divided into these three classes: first, the Distributive,
which are four in number; secondly, the Demonstrative, which are four; and
thirdly, the Indefinite, which are nine.
SECTION III.
The Colon.
The Colon marks a division of a sentence more nearly
Complete than that of a semicolon.
Note 1. The word is derived from the Greek kwAop (colon), a limb, or member.
Note 2. The principal uses of the colon have already been given in Rules 4
and 5.
40 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Rule 1. Greater Divisions of Complex Sentences. —
When the minor divisions of a complex sentence contain a
semicolon, the greater divisions should be separated by a
colon; thus, —
As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, hut did not perceive
it moving; and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ever saw it
grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such insensible
steps, are only perceivable by the distance.
Rule 2. Before a Quotation. — A colon is used before a
direct quotation ; as, —
Speaking of party, Pope makes this remark : " There never was any party, fac-
tion, sect, or cabal whatsoever, in which the most ignorant were not the most
violent."
Note 1. If the quotation is of considerable length, consisting of several sen-
tences, or begins a new paragraph, it should be preceded by both a colon and a
dash; as,—
At the close of the meeting, the president rose and said : —
" Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with extreme reluctance that I address you on
this occasion," etc.
Note 2. If the quotation is merely some short saying, a comma is sufficient;
as, Dr. Thomas Brown says, " The benevolent spirit is as universal as the miseries
which are capable of being relieved."
Rule 3. Yes and No. — The words yes and no, when in
answer to a question, should be followed by a colon, provided
the words which follow are a continuation or repetition of the
answer; as, —
" Can these words add vigor to your hearts? Yes : they can do it ; they have
often done it."
Note. Yes and no are often followed by some noun in the vocative case, or
case independent; as, "Yes, sir," "Yes. my lords," etc. In such cases, the colon
should come after the vocative ; as. " Yes, sir : they can do it." " Yes, my lords:
I am amazed at his lordship's speech."
Rule 4. Title-Pages. — Sometimes the main title of a
book is followed by an alternative or explanatory title, in
apposition. If this alternative title is introduced by the con-
junction or, a semicolon should precede the or, and a comma
follow it; but if or is not used, then the alternative title
should be separated from the main one by a colon ; as, —
PUNCTUATION— COLON. 41
Literature in Letters ; or, Manners, Art, Criticism, Biography, etc.
English Grammar : An Exposition of the Principles and Usages of the English
Language.
Note. At the bottom of a title-page it is customary to put the place of pub-
lication, the name of the publishers, and the year, in the order just named ; and
to insert a colon after the name of the place, a comma after the name of the
publishers, and a period at the end. Example. Philadelphia: Eldredge &
Brother, 1879.
Examples for Practice on the Rules for the Com-
ma, the Semicolon, and the Colon.
[To the Student. Give the Rule for each Comma, Semicolon, or Colon that
you find in the examples which are punctuated ; and insert these points where
needed, giving the Rules for the same, in the examples not punctuated. In the
unpunctuated sentences, this mark © is inserted at the places where a point of
some kind is due.]
1. No one denies that there are greater poets than Horace; and
much has been said in disparagement even of some of the merits
most popularly assigned to him, by scholars who have, nevertheless,
devoted years of laborious study to the correction of his text or the
elucidation of his meaning.
2. Satire always tends to dwarf >© and it cannot fail to carica-
ture o;but poetry does nothing © if it does not tend to enlarge and
exalt,© and if it does not seek rather to beautify than deform.
3. When he invites Tyndaris to his villa, the spot is brought
before the eye : the she-goats browsing amid the arbute and wild
thyme; the pebbly slopes of Ustica; the green nooks sheltered
from the dog-star; the noon-day entertainment; the light wines
and the lute.
4. The fundamental characteristic of man is spiritual hunger/ ©
the universe of thought and matter is spiritual food.
5. He feeds on Nature ©/he feeds on ideas ©;he feeds © through
art ©, science,© literature © and history © on the acts and thoughts
of other minds.
6. It must be observed © that in suggesting these processes © I
assign them no date ©;nor do I even insist upon their order.
7. This is an iambic line in which the first foot is formed of a
word and a part of a word ©ythe second and third © of parts taken
from the body or interior of a word*© the fourth © of a part and a
whole © the fifth © of two complete words.
8. Melissa5© like the beep gathers honey from every weed©
4* J
42 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
while Arachne,© like the spider © sucks poison from the fairest
flowers.
9. The present life is not wholly prosaic© precise,© tame © and
finite,© to the gifted eye ©.' it abounds in the poetic.
10. Are these to be conquered by all Europe united ? No ©; sir ©/
no united nation can be© that has the spirit to resolve not to be
conquered.
11. Be our plain answer this © The throne we honor is the peo-
ple's choice © the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy '©
the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all
mankind © and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave.
12. The discourse consisted of two parts ©in the first was shown
the necessity of exercise © in the second © the advantages that would
result from it.
SECTION IV.
The Period.
The Period marks the completion of the sentence.
Note. The word Period is derived from the Greek n-epioSos (periodos).a circuit,
and means primarily anything rounded or brought to completion. It was the
first point introduced.
Rule 1. Complete Sentences. — Sentences winch are com-
plete in sense, and not connected in construction with what
follows, and not exclamatory or interrogative in their char-
acter, should be followed by a period.
Note 1. Sentences, though connected by a conjunction, are sometimes sepa-
rated by a period, if the parts are long and complex, and are severally complete
in themselves; as,—
" Other men may have led, on the whole, greater and more impressive lives
than he ; other men, acting on their fellows through the same medium of speech
that he used, may have expended a greater power of thought, and achieved a
greater intellectual effort, in one consistent direction; other men, too (though
this is very questionable), may have continued to issue the matter which they
did address to the world, in more compact and artistic shapes. But no man that
ever lived said such splendid extempore things on all subjects universally ; no
man that ever lived had the faculty of pouring out, on all occasions, such a flood
of the richest and deepest language."
It is questionable, however, whether even in this case a colon would not be the
proper point
PUNCTUATION— PERIOD. 43
Note 2. The conjunctions and, but, for, etc., at the beginning of a sentence,
do not always indicate that degree of connection with what precedes which
should prevent the use of the period before them. This is especially the case
in the Bible. (Luke 23 : 27, 28, 29.) "And there followed him a great company
of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus
turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for
yourselves, and for your children. For, behold, the days are coming, in the
which they shall say," etc.
Rule 2. After Titles, etc. — A period should be used after
the title, or any of the headings, of a book ; after the author's
name and titles, on the title-page ; after the address of a
person, on a letter or note; and after each signature to a
letter or other document.
Note 1. A title-page consists usually of three parts, each ending in a period.
These are, 1. The title of the book ; 2. The name of the author, with any titles of
honor or office that may be appended to it; 3. The name of the publisher, with
the date and place of publication. Example. A Treatise on Meteorology, with a
Collection of Meteorological Tables. By Elias Loomis, LL.D., Professor of Natural
Philosophy and Astronomy in Yale College, and Author of a Course of Mathe-
mathics. New York : Harper & Brothers, 1868.
Note 2. In addressing a letter, the residence given, if given, is a part of the
address. There should be a comma between the several parts, and a period at
the end of the whole address. Ex. John Simpson, 21 Green Street, Philadelphia.
Rule 3. After Abbreviations. — A period is used after all
abbreviated words.
Note 1. The most common method of abbreviation is to use the first letter of
a word for the whole word, as B. Franklin for Benjamin Franklin. Sometimes,
in abbreviating the word, the first letter is doubled ; as p. for page, pp. for pages,
M. for Monsieur, MM. for Messieurs. In such cases, a period is not inserted be-
tween the two letters which represent the plural of one word. This explains
why there is no period between the two L's in the title LL.D. (Legum Doctor),
the LL. standing for one word in the plural, and the D. for the other word in the
singular. Sometimes a word is abbreviated by taking the first two or three
letters, as Eng. for England; sometimes by taking the first letter and the last,
as Wm. for William, La. for Louisiana ; sometimes by taking the first letter and
some leading letter in the middle of the word, as Mo. for Missouri, MS. for Manu-
script. In these cases, the period is to be used only at the end of the combined
letters. In the case last cited, the last letter of the combination is doubled when
the word is plural ; as, MS. manuscript, MSS. manuscripts.
Note 2. When an abbreviated word comes at the end of a sentence, it is not
necessary to use two periods. One point is sufficient to mark both the abbrevia-
tion and the end of the sentence. But if the construction requires some other
point, as the comma, semicolon, colon, interrogation, etc., both points must be
inserted, one to mark the grammatical construction, the other to mark the ab-
44 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
breviation ; as, " He reported the death of John Chapman, M.D." " John Chap-
man, M.D., at the early age of twenty-four, was carried off by disease."
Note 3. When two or more abbreviated titles follow each other, they must be
separated from each other by commas, just as they would be, if written out in
full. Thus: "Thomas Sumner, Doctor of Divinity, Doctor of Laws, Bishop of
London," abbreviated, becomes, "Thomas Sumner, D.D., LL.D., Bp. of London."
Note -4. Proper names are sometimes permanently shortened, the short form
being meant, not as an ordinary abbreviation, but as the real and true name.
This was the case with the celebrated dramatist, Ben Jonson. We have analogous
and more familiar instances in Ned Buntline, Bill Smith, Tom Jones, etc. In such
cases, no period should be inserted to mark abbreviation.
Note S. In like manner, various other abbreviations which are in very fa-
miliar use acquire the character of integral words, not requiring the period after
them to denote abbreviations. They become nouns, with a singular and a plural.
Thus, in England, Cantab (an abridgment of Cantabrigiensis, and meaning an
alumnus of Cambridge University), has become a noun, the body of the alumni
being called Cantabs, and any one of them a Cantab. In like manner, we have
Jap and Japs for Japanese, consol and consols for consolidated loan or consoli-
dated loans of the British Government, three per cents, five per cents, etc.*
Note 6. The letters of the alphabet, a, b, c, etc., A. B, C, etc., when used in
geometry and other sciences to represent quantities, are not abbreviations, and
should not be so marked by the insertion of a period.
Note 7. When the letters of the alphabet are used to represent numerals, it
is customary to insert a period at the end of each completed numeral ; as, Psalms
iv., xxi., lxxxvi., cxix., etc. When dates are thus expressed, the whole number
is separated into periods of thousands, hundreds, and the portion less than a
hundred ; as, M.DCCC.LXXI. for the year one thousand, eight hundred, and
seventy-one, or 1871.
Note 8. The Arabic figures, 1, 2, 3, etc., and the various marks used by
printers, as g for section, fl for paragraph, etc., are not abbreviations, but stand
for whole words, and therefore do not require the period. The period is used,
however, before decimals, and between pounds and shillings ; as, £2. 10s. 4d.
sterling is worth $13,719 at the present rate of exchange.
Note 9. The words 4to, 8vo, 12mo, etc., are not strictly abbreviations, the
figures representing a part of the word. If the letters were writtten in place of
the figures which represent them, it would be seen at once that the words are
complete.'guar-to, octo-vo, duodeci-mo, etc. Periods therefore are not required for
such words. The same rule will apply to 1st, 2dly, 3dly, etc.
Examples for Practice.
[To the Student. Give the Rule for each comma, semicolon, colon, or period
that you find in the examples which are punctuated : and insert these points
♦ This word cent, in the combination per cent, had become thoroughly established
as an integral word, and was almost universally written and printed without the
mark of abbreviation ; but of late years, sonic of our book-maker*, iu :i spirit of
hypercriticism, have insisted, unwisely I think, on restoring the period after cent to
show that it is an abbreviation of centum. They ought in consistency to put a period
alter quart, to show that it is an abbreviation of quarta, or after cab, because it is
abbreviated for cabriolet.
PUNCTUATION— PERIOD. 45
where needed, giving the Rules for the same, in the examples not punctuated.
When a period is used to mark the end of a sentence, the word following, if
there is one, should begin with a capital.]
1. Excellence in conversation depends © in a great measure,© on
the attainments which one has made/© if,© therefore^ education is
neglected © conversation will become triflingp if perverted,© cor-
rupting.
2. The laws of Phoroneus were established 1807 B,C,©, those of
Lycurgus ©,884 B.C.©, of Draco ©,623 B.C ©,of Solon,© 587 B.C.©
See chap.vii,^ xiv^lT ^ p. 617 .
3. The reader is requested to refer to the following passages of
Scripture p Ex.xxv18 Deut.xx.21,2 Sam<19;2
4. Bought © on 9 inos^redity© the following articles:© 4 yds,3 qrs.
2 n of broadcloth at $12 a yd,© 6 gals.l pt.2 gi of vinegar at 65
cts.a gal© and 3£ cords of wood at $7.50 a cord*
5. Poetry was not the sole praise of either; for both excelled
likewise in prose : but Pope did not borrow his prose from his pre-
decessor.
6. Dryden's page is a natural field,© rising into inequalities © and
diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation *p
Pope's is a velvet lawn © shaven by the scythe © and levelled by
the roller.
7. Of genius © ^that power which constitutes a poet,© that qual-
ity without which judgment is cold © and knowledge is inert,'© that
energy which collects,© combines © amplifies © and animates;©
the superiority must ©y with some hesitation ©be allowed to Dry-
den© .
8. It is not to be inferred, that of this poetical vigor Pope had
only a little, because Dryden had more; for every other writer
since Milton must give place to Pope ; and even of Dryden it must
be said, that, if he has brighter paragraphs, he has not better poems.
* The teacher may multiply and vary indefinitely examples like the 2d, 3d, 4th,
using for this purpose the ordinary school-books on Arithmetic. Geography, etc. Such
examples should be given until the student is entirely familiar with the modes of
punctuating these common abbreviations.
46 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
SECTION V.
The Interrogation Point.
An Interrogation Point is used for marking questions.
Note 1. In regard to the portion of discourse marked off by it, the Interroga-
tion Point is equivalent most commonly to a period ; but it may be equivalent
to a colon, a semicolon, or a comma. It is a question of some importance to
know, in each case, to which of these four points the interrogation point is
equivalent, because upon this depends the propriety of using, or not using, a
capital after it. When there is, in that particular construction, but one interro-
gation point, it is always equivalent to a period, and should be followed by a
capital. When, however, there is a succession of questions, following each other
in a series, without any affirmative sentences intervening, the interrogation
points sometimes represent sections of discourse less than a period. The way to
determine to which class the particular questions belong is to change the con-
struction into an affirmative form. It will in one case be resolved into a series
of independent sentences, separated by periods ; in the other, into a connected
or continued sentence, with co-ordinate members separated by commas, semi-
colons, or colons. Example. " Who will bring me into the strong city ? who
will lead me into Edom ? Wilt not thou, O God, who hast cast us off? and wilt
not thou, O God, go forth with our hosts?" (Ps. 108: 10, 11.) Change to the affirm-
ative form. "Some one will bring me into the strong city; some one will lead
me into Edom. Thou, O God, who hast cast us oft', wilt do it ; thou, O God, wilt
go forth with our hosts." Another example. " Who goeth a warfare any time
at his own charges? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit there-
of? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock? Say I these
things as a man ? or saith not the law the same also?" (1 Cor. 9: 7, 8.) Affirm-
atively: "'No one goeth a warfare at any time at his own charges; no one
planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof; no one feedeth a flock,
and eateth not of the milk of the flock. I do not say these things as a man ; the
law saith the same things also." Another example. " Shall a man obtain the
favor of Heaven by impiety? by murder? by falsehood? by theft?" Affirm-
atively : " A man cannot obtain the favor of Heaven by impiety, by murder, by
falsehood, by theft."
Rule 1. Direct Questions. — The Interrogation Point
should be placed at the end of every direct question.
Note 1. A direct question is one in regular form, requiring, or at least admit-
ting an answer; as, " Why do you neglect your duty?" An indirect question is
one that is merely reported or spoken of; as, " He inquired why you neglected
your duty."
Note 2. When there is a succession of questions, having a common gram-
matical dependence on some preceding word or clause, each question forming
by itself an incomplete sentence, some writers place an interrogation point only
at the end of the series, and separate the several members by a dash, or perhaps
by a comma. This method of punctuation is not correct. Kach question, no
PUNCTUATION— EXCLAMATION. 47
matter how short or broken, should have its own point. See the example im.
mediately preceding Rule 1.
Note 3. Where the words on which a series of questions have a common de-
pendence come after the questions, instead of preceding them, there should be
an interrogation point only at the end ; as, " Where be your gibes now ; your
gambols ; your songs ; your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table in
a roar f " Here the clause italicized refers back to all four items, the " gibes," " gam-
bols," " songs," and " flashes of merriment." They all have a grammatical depend-
ence upon it. If the sentence should be transposed, so as to place this clause first,
then each question will come out complete, and will have its interrogation point.
Thus : " Where now be those things of yours that were wont to set the table in a
roar?— your gibes? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment?"
Note 4. Sometimes a question is intended, although the words are not put in
the usual interrogative form. Thus : '* You will come this afternoon ? " In such
cases the interrogation point should be used, as in this example, although the
sentence may be declarative in its form.
Note S. When a question formally introduces a remark or a quotation, the
question should first be brought to a close with an interrogation point, and then
the remark or quotation should follow ; as, Who that has read can ever forget
the words of Hamlet's soliloquy?—
" To be. or not to be ; that is the question : /
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune;
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them."
SECTION VI.
The Exclamation Point.
The Exclamation Point is used for marking strong emotion.
Note 1. In regard to the portion of discourse set off by it, the exclamation
point, like the interrogation point, is equivalent commonly to a period; but it
may be equivalent to a colon, a semicolon, or a comma. The same considera-
tions govern here that govern in the case of the Interrogation. See Note under
" Interrogation Point."
Rule 1. The Exclamation Point must be used at the close
of every sentence, clause, or grammatical expression, intend-
ed to convey strong emotion.
Note. Inexperienced and weak writers are apt to deal largely in the use of
the exclamation point, as if to make up for the feebleness of the thought by mere
tricks of punctuation. Young writers therefore should be on their guard in this
48 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
matter, and not use the exclamation point unless there is some real and strong
emotion to be expressed.
Rule 2. The Exclamation Point must be used after an
interjection; as, —
Fie on him ! Ah me ! Oh ! it hurts me. Oh that I could find him ! O father
Abraham ! O Lord ! *
Note 1. Where the interjection does not stand by itself, but forms part of a
sentence, clause, or expression, the exclamation point should be placed at the
end of the whole expression, and not immediately after the interjection ; as, " O
wretched state ! O bosom black as death ! "
Note 2. Sometimes oh is grammatically separable from the words following
it, though the emotion runs through the whole. In that case, there should be a
comma after the oh, and the exclamation point at the end of the whole expres-
sion ; as, " Oh, where shall rest be found ! "
Note 3. When an interjection is repeated several times, the words are sepa-
rated from each other by a comma, the exclamation being put only after the
last ; as, " Fie, fie, fie ! pah, pah ! give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to
sweeten my imagination."
Note 4. Two of the interjections, eh and hey, are sometimes uttered in a pecu-
liar tone, so as to ask a question. In that case, they should be followed by the
interrogation point ; as, M You thought you would not be found out, eh ? "
Rule 3. Where the emotion to be expressed is very strong,
more than one exclamation point is sometimes used ; as,
" That man virtuous ! ! You might as well preach to me of
the virtue of Judas Iscariot ! ! "
Note. This mode of repeating the exclamation point is much used in bur-
lesque and satire.
Examples for Practice.
[To the Student. These examples, though intended mainly for illustrating
the Rules for the marks of Interrogation and Exclamation, will yet serve the in-
cidental purpose of reviewing all the preceding rules.]
* In regard to the two words O and oh, Webster says: A distinction between the use
of 0 and oh is insisted on by some, namely, that 0 should be used only in direct ad-
dress to a person or personified object, and should never be followed by the exclama-
tion point, while oh should he used in mere exclamations where no direct appeal or
address to an object is made, and may be followed by the exclamation point or not,
according to the nature or construction of the sentence. This distinction, however,
is nearly or totally disregarded by most writers, even the beet, the two forma being gen-
erally used quite indiscriminately. The form O is the one most commonly employed
for both uses by modern writers. " O for a kindling touch from that pure flame ! "
Wordsworth. " O what a rapturous cry !" "O Eldon, in whatever sphere thou shine."
"Strike, oh Muse, in a measure bold ! " Macaulay. "(), what a fair and ministering
angel ! " " O sweet angel ! " Longfellow. " O sir, oh prince, I have no country : none."
Tmnyson.
PUNCTUATIONS-DASH. 49
1. Why,© for so many a yeacfc> has the poet wandered amid the
fragments of Athens and Rome © and paused o^with strange and
kiadling feelings,© amid their broken columns © their mouldering
temples© their deserted plains ©£
2. Greece ©;indeed© fel]f© but how did she failed Did she fall
like Babylon © Did she fall like Lucifer a never to rise again ©J
3. Rouse ©fye Romans© rouse,© ye slaves©/
4. Down © 'soothless insulter ©,'I trust not the tale © (
5. Have you eyes©^Could you on this fair mountain leave to
feed © and batten on this moorioHa ©/have you eyes©£You cannot
call it lovej© foij© at your age ©;the hey-day in the blood is tame,
it 's humble, and waits upon the judgment ©'and what judgment
would step from this to this © I
6. Charge ©/Chester/© charge ©/on ©/ Stanley/© on ©/
7. Who ©^in a sea-fight © ever thought of the price of the chain
which beats out the brains of a pirate ©?or of the odor of the splin-
ter which shatters his leg © l
8. King Charles © forsooth © had so many private virtues'© And
had James no private virtues ©?Was even Oliver Cromwell ©Jiis
bitterest enemies themselves being judges .© destitute of private
virtues ©fAnd what ©jafter all,© are the virtues ascribed to Charles <z>l
9. Ho ©^trumpets ©y sound a war-note © t
10. Oh/© was there ever such a knight,© in friendship or in war,©
as our sovereign lord © King Henry © the soldier of Navarre © I
SECTION VII.
The Dash.
The Dash is used chiefly either to mark a sudden change
or interruption in the structure of the sentence, or to mark
some elocutionary pause.
Note. The Dash, which is of modern origin, has been used so indiscriminate-
ly and injudiciously by ill-informed writers, that some critics have insisted on
banishing it entirely. This would be only going to another extreme. There
are, in many passages, in those particularly which are highly rhetorical, turns
of thought, which can be indicated by a dash, and which cannot be indicated by
any of the ordinary grammatical points. The dash, therefore, is a necessity in
5 D
50 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
many kinds of composition. But it should not be used as a substitute for the
comma, semicolon, colon, period, or interrogation, as inexpert writers sometimes
do mistakenly use it, but should be employed where these regular marks cannot
be used, and to express things which they cannot express. The dash, therefore,
is incorrect whenever any one of these marks could be substituted for it without
changing the meaning. Young writers particularly need to be on their guard in
using the dash. Mark every dash as wrong, unless some positive reason for its
use can be given, and unless it can be shown that none of the ordinary marks
would express the idea.
Kule 1. Construction Changed. — A Dash is used where
the construction of the sentence is abruptly broken off or
changed; as, —
Was there ever a bolder captain of a more valiant band ? Was there ever—
but I scorn to boast.
Kule 2. Unexpected Change in the Sentiment. — The Dash
is sometimes used to mark a sudden and unexpected change
in the sentiment; as, — ,
^He had no malice in his mind —
No ruffles on his shirt. >^
Rule 3. Emphatic Generalization. — A Dash is sometimes
used to mark the transition from a succession of particulars
to some emphatic general expression which includes them all ;
as, —
He was witty, learned, industrious, plausible,— everything but honest
Rule 4. Elocutionary Pause. — A Dash is sometimes used
to mark a significant pause, where there is no break in the
grammatical construction ; as, —
You have given the command to a person of illustrious birth, of ancient family,
of innumerable statues, but — of no experience.
Note. The mark here is purely elocutionary. A good reader will pause some
perceptible time after the but, whether there is a mark there or not. The dtth
serves to indicate to the eye what the good reader will indicate by his voice.
This particular use of the dash is pretty well established, and it is not worth
while to make any change in regard to it now. But were the matter of elocu-
tionary notation to be undertaken anew, it would seem better to mark this sus-
pension of the voice by a blank space than by a dash, the dash being used for
Other and very di lie rent purposes.
PUNCTUATION— DA SJT. 51
Rule 5. Expressions dependent npon a Concluding Clanse.
— When there is a long series of clauses or expressions, all
dependent upon some concluding clause, it is usual, in pass-
ing from the preceding part of the passage to that upon which
the whole depends, to mark the transition by inserting a Dash,
in addition to the comma ; as, —
The great men of Rome, her beautiful legends, her history, the height to which
she rose, and the depth to which she fell,— these make up one-half of a student's
ideal world.
Note. The most common example of this use of the dash is where the gram-
matical subject or nominative is loaded with numerous adjuncts, so that there is
danger of its being lost sight of when the verb is introduced. The insertion of
the dash here seems to give the mind an opportunity of going back to the main
subject ; as, " Every step in the attainment of physical power ; every new trait
of intelligence, as they one by one arise in the infantine intellect, like the glory
of night, starting star by star into the sky, — is hailed with a heart-burst of rap-
ture and surprise."
Rule 6. Rhetorical Repetition. — When a word or an ex-
pression is repeated for rhetorical purposes, the construction
being begun anew, a Dash should be inserted before each such
repetition ; as, —
Shall I, who was born, I might almost say, but certainly brought up, in the
tent of my father, that most excellent general — shall I, the conqueror of Spain
and Gaul, and not only of the Alpine nations, but of the Alps themselves — shall
I compare myself with this half-year captain ?
Note. This kind of repetition is sometimes called by elocutionists the Echo.
Rule 7. Reflex Apposition. — Words at the end of a sen-
tence, and standing somewhat detached, and referring back
by apposition to preceding parts of the sentence, should be
separated from the previous portions by a Dash ; as, —
The four greatest names in English poetry are among the first we come to, —
Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton.
Kings and their subjects, masters and their slaves, find a common level in two
places, — at the cross, and in the grave.
Note. The dash here is said by some to indicate the omission of namely, or
that is. It is true that one of these expressions might be inserted in most case?
that come under this rule, but the passage would thereby lose in rhetorical fore?
The dash, in this case, as in Rule 4, is in fact purely elocutionary.
52 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Rule 8. The Dash Parenthetical. — Parenthetical expres-
sions are sometimes included between two Dashes, instead of
the usual signs of parenthesis ; as, —
The smile of a child — always so ready when there is no distress, and so soon
recurring when that distress has passed away — is like an opening of the sky,
showing heaven beyond.
The archetypes, the ideal forms of things without, — if not, as some philos-
ophers have said, in a metaphysical sense, yet in a moral sense, — exist within us.
Note 1. If, when the parenthetical part is removed from a sentence like one
of these, the portions remaining require no point between them, no points besides
the dashes will be required at the beginning and end of the parenthetical ex-
pression. Thus, in the first of the foregoing examples, if the parenthetical part
be left out, the remaining portion will read, " The smile of a child is like an
opening," etc. But if the parenthetical part be left out of the second example,
it will read, " The archetypes, the ideal forms of things without, exist within us,"
with a comma at the place where the two dashes come in. In such cases, there
must be two commas in the parenthetical form of the sentence, namely, one
before each of the dashes, as in the example.
Note 2. If the parenthetical words express a question or an exclamation, they
must be followed by an interrogation point or an exclamation point, before the
concluding dash ; as, Religion — who can doubt it ? — is the noblest theme for the
exercise of the intellect.
Note S. The question, whether the marks which separate parenthetical words
from the rest of the sentence shall be dashes, commas, or marks of parenthesis,
is left a good deal to the fancy of the writer. The subject will be more partic-
ularly explained in the section on the Parenthesis.
Note 4. When one parenthetical expression is included within another, that
which is least connected in construction should be set off' by the marks of paren-
thesis, and the other by dashes; as,—
"Sir Smug," he cries, (for lowest at the board —
Just made fifth chaplain of his patron lord,
His shoulders witnessing, by many a shrug,
How much his feelings suffered — sat Sir Smug,)
" Your office is to winnow false from true ;
Come, prophet, drink ; and tell us what think you."
Rule 9. Titles run in. — When a title, instead of standing
in a line by itself, over a paragraph, is run in, so as to make
a part of the paragraph, it should be separated from the rest
of the line by a dash ; as, —
Fidelity to God.— Whatever station or rank Thou shalt assign me, I will die
ten thousand deaths sooner than abandon it.— -Socrates.
Note 1. If, at the end of a paragraph, the name of the author or of the book
from which the paragraph has been taken is given, it is separated from the rest
PUNCTUATION— J) A SIT. 53
of the paragraph by a dash. See the word Socrates at the end of the preceding
example.
Note 2. The word chapter or section, occurring on the same line with the
title, is separated from it by a dash ; as,—
Chapter 1.— Punctuation.
Rule 10. Question and Answer. — If question and answer,
instead of beginning separate lines, are run into a paragraph,
they should be separated by a dash ; as, —
Who made you? — God. What else did God make? — God made all things.
Why did God make you and all things? — God made all things for his own glory.
Rule 11. Omissions. — The dash is used to mark the omis-
sions of letters or figures ; as, —
General W n captured the Hessians at Trenton.
Matt. 9 : 1-6. [N. B. This is equivalent to Matt. 9 : 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.]
Rule 12. Examples on a New Line. — A dash usually fol-
lows as and thus, when the example following them begins a
new line.
For examples, see nearly all the preceding rules and notes.
Examples for Practice.
1. Almost all kinds of raw material extracted from the interior
of the earth o_metal8jp coals © precious stones © and the like o*
are obtained rrora mines differing in fertility.
2. The inferiority of French cultivation erwhich © taking the
country as a whole p must be allowed to be real © though much
exaggerated o-is probably more owing to the lower average of in-
dustrial skill in that country© than to any special cause© -
3. Each of these great and ever memorable strugglesp Saxon
against Norman © villein against lord © Roundhead against Cava-
lier. © Dissenter against Churchman © Manchester against Old
Sarum© waso-in its own order and season © a struggle on the
result of which were staked the dearest interests of the human
race © .
4. Time was growing to be of high worth ©; and © from causes
which justified a good deal ©_ though not quite all o_of their delay ©
the English at this time were behindhand©.
5*
54 COMPOSITION AND RLETORIC.
5. Though © as I was saying © it is only the shallow part of one's
hearty. I imagine that the deepest hearts have their shallows ©_
which can be filled by it;© still it brings a shallow relief © *
6. Here lies the great ©; False marble © where ©.Nothing but
sordid dust lies here © .
7. Greece © Carthage © RomAj^^here are they © ■
8. "I plunged right into thfl ^Lteo/and'lo-"Did not say a
word to the point © of course "^^^
9. The essence of all poetry may be said to consist in three
things pJnvention© expression© inspiration©*
10. "How are you ©,Trepid ©£How do you feel to-day;© Mr.
Trepid ? " "A great deal worse than I was©_-thank you*© almost
dead © I am obliged to you '.' © " Why © Trepid ©--what is the mat-
ter with you'!?©— Nothing ©I tell you ©. nothing in particular©
but a great deal is the matter with me in general'' ©
SECTION VIII.
The Parenthesis.
The Marks of Parenthesis are used to inclose words which
have little or no connection with the rest of the sentence.
Note 1. The word parenthesis (Greek napivOta^, insertion) signifies something
inserted or put in, and applies primarily to a sentence or a part of a sentence
inserted, by way of comment or explanation, in the midst of another sentence,
of which it is independent in construction, and which is complete without it.
Note 2. We must distinguish between parenthesis and marks of parenthesis.
The parenthesis is the sentence, or part of a sentence, that is inserted into another
sentence. The marks of parenthesis are the two curved lines which inclose the
words thus let in. The term marks of parenthesis, to indicate these curved lines,
is preferred to parentheses. Parentheses means properly parenthetical sentences,
not marks of parenthesis.
Note 8. Sometimes commas, and sometimes dashes, are used instead of the
curved lines, to inclose words that are of a parenthetical character ; and it is not
always easy to determine when to use one of these modes, and when to use
another. It may be observed, in general, that the curved lines mark the greatest
degree of separation from the rest of the sentence ; the dashes, the next greatest ;
and the commas, the least separation of all.
Rule. Words inserted in the body of a sentence, and
PUNCTUATION— PARENTHESIS. 55
nearly or quite independent of it in meaning and construc-
tion, should be inclosed with the marks of parenthesis.
Note 1. A very common example of the use of marks of parenthesis is in the
reports of speeches, where a person is referred to, but not named. In the actual
delivery of the speech, the person meant is sufficiently indicated by the speaker's
pointing or bowing to him, or lookin^at him, or by other significant gesture.
But as this cannot be transferred HM ■written or printed page, the reporter
usually supplies its place by inse^| Hfl name of the person meant, and the
name thus inserted by the reporter^Hplosed by marks of parenthesis. Thus:
" After the very lucid exposition of the matter by the gentleman opposite to me
(Mr. Stuart), it will not be necessary for me to say much in defence of this part
of the subject."
Note 2. In reporting speeches, marks of parenthesis are used to inclose ex-
clamations of approbation or disapprobation on the part of the audience ; as,
" My lords, I am amazed at his lordship's declaration (hear, hear). Yes, my
lords : I am amazed, that one in his position could so far forget the proprieties of
debate."
Note 3. Marks of parenthesis are used to inclose a query, or comment of any
kind, made by the one who is reporting, copying, or quoting the words of
another ; as, " The Romans were the fisft (indeed ?) who learned the art of navi-
gation." In strict accuracy, the marks in these three cases (Notes 1, 2, 3) should
be brackets, because the matter thus inserted is really an interpolation by the re-
porter. But custom has sanctioned the use of marks of parenthesis in these
cases. See Section IX., Note 2 (Brackets).
Note 4. In scientific works, marks of parenthesis are used to inclose figures
or letters that are employed in enumerating a list of particulars ; as, " The un-
lawfulness of suicide appears from the following considerations: (1.) Suicide
is unlawful on account of its general consequences. (2.) Because it is the
duty," etc.
Note 8. If no point would be required between the parts of a sentence, in
case there were no parenthesis there, then no points should be used at that
place, in addition to the marks of parenthesis; as, " The Egyptian style of archi-
tecture (see Dr. Pocock's work) was apparently the mother of the Greek."
Note 6. If a point would be required between the parts of a sentence, in
case no parenthesis were there, then, when the parenthesis is inserted, said
point should be inserted also, and should be placed after the second mark of
parenthesis ; as, " Pride, in some disguise or other, is the most ordinary spring of
action." " Pride, in some disguise or other (often a secret to the proud man
himself), is the most ordinary spring of action."
Note 7. If the parenthetical part of a sentence requires at the end a point of
Its own, this point should come inside of the last mark of parenthesis, and the
point belonging to the main sentence should come before the first mark of paren-
thesis ; as, " While the Christian desires the approbation of his fellow -men, (and
why should he not desire it?) he disdains to receive their good-will by dishonor-
able means." " Say not in thine heart, Who shall ascend into heaven ? (that is,
to bring Christ down from above;) or, Who shall descend into the deep?
(that is, to bring up Christ again from the dead.) But what saith it ? "
56 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Note 8. Sometimes a parenthesis is inserted, not between the parts of a sen-
tence, but between complete and independent sentences, and the parenthesis
itself contains one or more complete and independent sentences. In such cases,
the words inclosed in the curved lines are parenthetical to the whole paragraph,
rather than to any one sentence, and the rule for punctuation is, to insert, in ad-
dition to the curved lines, whatever other punctuation marks the several sen-
tences and clauses would otherwise require ; as, " Brethren, be followers together
of me, and mark them which walk so as ye have us for an ensample. (For many
walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they
are the enemies of the cross of Christ; whose end is destruction, whose god
is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame ; who mind earthly things.) For
our conversation is in heaven ; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the
Lord Jesus Christ."
SECTION IX.
Brackets.
Brackets are used to inclose in a sentence a word, or words,
which do not form part of the original composition.
Note 1. Brackets are somewhat like the marks of parenthesis in form, one,
however, being angular, the other curved, and are also in some respects like ihe
latter in signification and use.
Note 2. Brackets are used to inclose a sentence, or part of a sentence, within
the body of another sentence, and thus far are like the marks of parenthesis.
But the matter included within brackets is entirely independent of the sentence,
and so differs from what is merely parenthetical. Further, the matter within the
brackets is usually inserted by one writer to correct or add to what has been
written by another, Avhile the parenthesis is a part of the original composition,
and is written by the same person that wrote the rest of the sentence.
Note 3. It is worthy of remark that the comma before and after, the dash
before and after, the marks of parenthesis, and the brackets, all have something
in common. They all are used to include matter which is inserted in the body
of a sentence, and which is more or less independent of the sentence, and
extraneous to it. They indicate increasing degrees of independence and ex-
traneousness, about in the order in which they have just been named, the com-
ma before and after showing least, and the brackets showing most, of this inde-
pendence.
Rule. In correcting or modifying the expressions of an-
other, by inserting words of your own, the words thus inserted
should be inclosed in brackets ; as, —
A soft answer turn [turns] away wrath.
The number of our days are [ is) with thee.
PUNCTUATION— BRACKETS. 57
The letter [which] you wrote me on Saturday came duly to hand.
The captain had several men [who] died on the voyage.
Note 1. Brackets are used in critical editions of ancient authors to indicate
that in the opinion of the editor the words so inclosed are an interpolation, and
do not belong to the original. The words thus bracketed are not interpolated by
the editor, but the editor takes this means of indicating that they have been in-
terpolated by somebody else. He fears to leave the words out altogether, because
they have stood so long in the text, but he takes this means of showing that he
considers them spurious.
Note 2. Brackets are also used in dictionaries to separate the pronunciation,
or the etymology of a word, or some incidental remark about it, from the other
parts of the explanation. Thus : Resemblant [Fr. ressembler, to resemble]. Hav-
ing resemblance. [Rare.]
Note 3. In printing Plays, the stage directions are separated from the rest of
the sentence by brackets ; and, if the stage direction occurs at the end of a line,
only the first one of the brackets is used. Thus : —
Ham. I am very glad to see you. [To Bernardo.] Good-even, sir.
Pol. The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail.
And you are stay'd for. There,— my blessing with you; [Laying his hand on
Laertes's head.
King. I pray you go with me. [Exeunt.
Hot. Let them come in. [Exit servant
Note 4. In regard to the use of points before and after the brackets, and the
punctuation of any sentence or clause within the brackets, the same rules will
apply that have been given in regard to the marks of parenthesis.
Examples for Practice.
1. Last Words of Remarkable Mex «o.The last words of Ra-
leigh were;© " Why dost thou not strike Jo Strike p man/© " To
the executioner,© who was pausing?© The last of the Duke of Buck-
ingham.'© " Traitor © thou hast killed me/© " To the assassin Fel-
ton © The last of Charles II. .•© " Don't let poor Nelly starve.©"
Referring to Nell Gwynne.pThe last of William III..© "Can this
last long ©j" To his physician,© The last of Locke:© "Cease now © 1'
(To Lady Markham © who had been reading the Psalms to him ©/ •
2. If we exercise right principles fc> and we cannot have them
unless we exercise them)© they must be perpetually on the in-
crease © .
3. Are you still ©I fear you are © far from being comfortably
settled © £
4. She had managed this matter so well,(© oh' ©how artful a
woman she was)© that my father's heart was gone before I sus-
pected it was in danger.
L"
58 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
5. Know then this truth o enough for man to know o
Virtue alone is happiness below ©>
6. Our last king o
Whose image even but now appeared to us©
Was ©as you know^cby Fortinbras of Norway o
(© Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride ©
Dar'd to the combat t'<z> in which our valiant Hamlet
(© For so this side of our known world esteemed him ©)
Did slay this Fortinbras © .
7. The Egyptian style of architecture i© see Dr Pocock ©^not his
discourses,© but his prints}© was apparently the mother of the
Greek ©^
8. Yet © by your gracious patience ©
I will a round unvarnished tale deliver
Of my whole course of love © what drugs © what charms ©
What conjuration ,© and what mighty magic ©
— © For such proceeding I am charged withal © —
I won his daughter © >
SECTION X.
Quotation Marks.
A Quotation is the introduction into one's discourse of a
word or of words uttered by some one else.
Note. The. marks of quotation are two inverted commas (") at the beginning,
and two apostrophes (") at the end, of the portion quoted.
Rule 1. A word or words introduced from some other
author should be inclosed by quotation marks.
Note 1. It is proper for a writer to use quotation marks in introducing words
from some other writings of his own, if the words thus introduced are intended
as a citation.
Note 2. A writer, in quoting from himself, may use his option in regard to
the use of quotation marks. It depends upon whether he does, or does not, wish
to make a reference to his previous writings. We have no such option, however,
when using the words of other people. To use the words of others without ac-
knowledging them to be such, is plagiarism, which is only another name for
stealing. It is, however, a breach of the Decalogue, rather than of Rhetoric.
PUNCTUATION— QUOTATION MARKS. 59
r Note S. Sometimes, in quoting from another, we wish for convenience to give
only the substance of his meaning, but not his exact words. In such a case, we
may show that the wording has been thus altered, by using only one inverted
comma and one apostrophe, instead of two. Thus: The last six commandments
are, ' Honor thy father and thy mother, Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not com-
mit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness, Thou shalt
not covet.' Unless we indicate in this way, or by express remark, that the
phraseology has been altered, we should in quoting be careful to give the exact
words of the author, especially where the quotation is from Holy Scripture. Any
alteration whatever in the words inclosed in quotation marks is regarded as dis-
honest, unless in some manner we distinctly indicate that such alteration has
been made.
Note 4. Quotation marks are not proper when we state the opinion of others
in language of our own ; as, Socrates said that he believed the soul to be im-
mortal. If this expression be changed, so as to give the exact words of Socrates,
then the quotation marks will be needed; as, Socrates said, " I believe the soul
to be immortal."
Note 3. Short phrases from foreign languages are usually printed in italics,
instead of being inclosed in quotation marks; as, He believed in the principle
of nil admirari. Titles and names of various kinds are' sometimes marked in
this way; as, The Tempest is regarded by some as one of "• Shakespeare's earliest
plays. This practice, however, is not so much in vogue as it was, the tendency
at present being to use, in all such cases, the quotation marks instead of italics.
Rule 2. When a quotation incloses within it another quo-
tation, the external quotation has the double marks, and the
one included has only the single marks ; as, —
It has been well said, " The command, ' Thou shalt not kill,' forbids many
crimes besides that of murder."
Some one has said, " What an argument for prayer is contained in the words,
* Our Father which art in heaven ! '
Note 1. If the inclosed or secondary quotation ends the sentence, as in the
second of the preceding examples, three apostrophes will there come together,
of which the first will belong to the inclosed quotation, and the other two to the
original.
Note 2. When an inclosed quotation itself contains words or phrases that are
quoted, those words or phrases have the double marks ; as, " Trench says, ' What
a lesson the word " diligence " contains ! ' "
Note 3. The preceding note provides for a quotation within a quotation
within a quotation. When the sentence becomes more involved than this, the
additional degrees of quotation cannot be expressed without producing confu-
sion, and may therefore be omitted; as, It is written in the Gospel, "Jesus an-
swered the Jews, ' Is it not written in your law, I said, ye are gods? ' " If, in this
sentence, it were attempted to carry out fully the marking of quotations, the
words would stand thus, "It is written in the Gospel, 'Jesus answered the Jews,
" Is it not written in your law, ' I said, " ye are gods" ' ?" ' "
Note 4. When an interrogation or an exclamation mark comes at the same
60 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
place with the quotation marks, the interrogation or the exclamation mark
should be placed inside of the quotation marks, if it is a part of the passage
quoted : but if it refers back to something preceding the introduction of the
passage quoted, the interrogation or exclamation mark should be outside of the
quotation marks. Thus: People talk about the "passing crowd." Yet. if we
consider rightly, is there not something of momentous interest in this same
" passing crowd " ? Here the question goes back beyond the quotation, and
therefore the interrogation point should stand outside of it. When Lord Suffolk
said in Parliament, " It is lawful to use all the means that God and nature have
put into our hands," Chatham quoted the expression with an exclamation of
scorn and surprise, " That God and nature have put into our hands " ! Here the
exclamation is not Suffolk's, but Chatham's, and therefore should be put outside
of the quotation.
Rule 3. When several consecutive paragraphs are quoted,
the inverted commas should be placed at the beginning of
each paragraph, but the apostrophes only at the end of the
whole quotation.
Note 1. If the several paragraphs thus quoted do not come together in the
original, but are taken from different parts of the book or essay, each several
paragraph should begin and end with quotation marks.
Note 2. If the extract forms but one paragraph, but is made up of several de-
tached portions taken from different parts of the book or essay quoted, the fact
that the extracts are not continuous may be shown, either by inserting several
points (....) at each place where there is a break, or by inclosing each detached
portion with quotation marks.
Note 3. In some publications, the inverted commas are inserted at the begin-
ning of each line of a quotation, no matter how long. The London Times always
punctuates in this way. So do some American newspapers. The practice is more
common in England than in America, but as it encumbers and disfigures the
page without any real advantage, the tendency in both countries is towards the
simpler method prescribed in Rule 3.
Examples for Practice.
1. This definition © Dr.o Latham ©(from whom we borrowed
it© illustrates © in his work on the ob English Language ©p.©
359,© by the expression (© a sharp-edged instrument©, which
means an instrument with sharp edges. ^
2. The words © all- wise ©, ©'incense-breathing ©,© book-seller ©,
and © noble-man © are compounds. .
3. © There is but one object © © says Augustine © © greater than
» crml r— i nnrl flint, nnp i« it« f~Vf>nt<"»r <-"» e— > .
the soul © and that one is its Creator © ©
4. © Let me make the ballads of a nal
Saltoun © © and I care not who makes the laws © o*
4. © Let me make the ballads of a nation © © said Fletcher of
PUNCTUATION— APOSTROPHE, ETC. 61
5. When Fenelon's library was on firep© God be praised©©
said he© © that it is not the dwelling of a poor man o o ■
6. © Stop a moment here © ©^ said Corinne to Lord Nevil,© as he
stood under the portico of the church. o o* pause before tdrawing
aside the curtain which covers the entrance of the temple © ©
7. A drunkard once reeled up to Whitefield with the remark .©
o,!rMr.o Whitefield,© I am one of your converts© ©*! think it very
likely/© © was the reply © © for I am sure you are none of God's © © ■
8. Sir Walter Scott's novel © ©*:Guy Mannering ©, © is one of his
best.
SECTION XI.
Apostrophe, Hyphen, Caret, Etc.
Note. The other marks used in composition are either so purely grammatical,
or they relate so much more to printing than to authorship, that the considera-
tion of them may be despatched very briefly.
1. The Apostrophe ( ' ) is a comma placed above the line. It is
used chiefly to mark the omission of a letter or of letters ; as, O'er
for over.
2. The Hyphen ( - ) is used to separate a compound word into
its constituent parts, or to divide a word into its syllables for the
purpose of showing the pronunciation ; as, Neo-Platonic, de-riv-a-
tive.
3. The Caret ( A ), used chiefly in manuscript, shows where some-
thing has been omitted, and afterward interlined ; as,
his
He has just finished ^ letter.
4. The Index, or Hand ( SaP" ) calls special attention to a subject ;
as, falF" Terms, invariably cash in advance.
5. The Paragraph ( IT ), inserted in a manuscript, denotes that a
paragraph should begin at that point.
6. The Brace ( ] ) is used to connect several items under one
head; as,
The Liquids are ^
■:
7. Marks of Ellipsis are sometimes a long dash, sometimes a suc-
cession of stars, or of points; as, He denounced C s [Con-
6
62 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
gress] for its venality, and threatened to impeach W * * * [Web-
ster] and A . . . . [Adams].
8. The Accents are three, the acute ( ' ), the grave ( v ), and the
circumflex ( A ).
9. The Marks of Quantity are two, the long ( " ) and the short ( v ).
Under this head is sometimes put diaeresis ( " ).
10. The Cedilla is a mark like a comma placed under the letter
c, in words taken from the French, to denote that the letter has in
that case the sound of s; as, facade [pronounced fa-sad].
11. Marks of Keference are the asterisk or star ( * ), the dagger
( t ), the double dagger ( J ), the section ( § ), parallel lines ( 1 ), the
paragraph ( 1T ).
12. Leaders are dots used to carry the eye from words at the
beginning of a line to something at the end with which they are
connected; thus,
Orthography page 7
Etymology " 14
Syntax . " 87
13. Double Commas Inverted are used to show that a word is to be
supplied from the line above.
(See example under No. 12, where '* supplies the place of the
word "page.")
14. The Title-page of a book is that which contains the title, and
is usually the first page.
15. Eunning Titles, or Head-lines, placed at the top of the page to
show the subject, are usually printed in capitals or small capitals.
16. Captions, or Sub-heads, are headings placed over chapters or
sections, but standing in the body of the page, not at the top.
17. Side-heads are titles run into, or made part of, the line.
18. A Frontispiece is a picture opposite to the title-page.
19. A Vignette is a small picture, not occupying a full page, but
mixed up with other matter, either on the title-page, or in any
other part of the book.
20. Italics are letters inclined to the right. They are so called
because type of this kind was first used by Italian printers.
Note 1. In manuscript, one line drawn under a word shows that it should be
printed in italics; two lines, that it should be printed in small capitals; and
three lines, that it should be printed in CAPITALS. Ordinary letters are called
Roman, as opposed to Italic.
Note 2. Some writers use Italics to mark emphatic words. This is a weak
and foolish device, aud cannot be too strongly condemned.
PUNCTUATION— CAPITALS. 63
Note 3. In the English Bible, words are printed in italic to show that they are
not in the original, but are supplied by the translators to complete the meaning.
21. The principal kinds of type are the following:
English, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p.
Pica, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q, r, s.
Small Pica, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q.
Long Primer, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q, r, s.
Bourgeois, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v.
Brevier, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, z.
Minion, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, z.
Nonpareil, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, z.
Agate, a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, 1, m, n, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, z.
Pearl, a. b, c, d, e, f. g, h, 1. j. k, 1. m. n, o, p. q, r, s. t, u. v. w, x, y, x.
Diamond, a. b, e. i, e. f. (. h. i, i, k. 1, m. d o p. q. r. s, t, o, ». w. x. y, t.
Brilliant, a, b. c. d. : f. g. h. i. J. k. I. m. a. o. p. q, t. *, X, «. t. w. «, j, m.
22. Leads are thin plates of type-metal, by which the lines may
be spaced further apart. Matter thus spaced is said to be leaded.
Matter not leaded is called solid.
23. Composing, as a part of the printing business, is putting
matter in type, or setting up the type.
24. The amount of printed matter is counted by ems, that is, by
the number of spaces of the length of the letter m.
25. A Folio is a leaf or sheet of paper with a single fold, that is,
making two leaves or four pages.
26. A book is called a Folio when the sheets on which it is
printed are so folded that each sheet makes but two leaves. It is
called a Quarto, when each sheet makes four leaves; an Octavo,
when each makes eight leaves; a Duodecimo, when each makes
twelve leaves; a 16mo, 18mo, 24mo, 32mo, 48mo, 64mo, 96mo, etc.,
according as each sheet makes 16, 18, 24, 32, 48, 64, or 96 leaves.
SECTION XII.
Capitals.
Rule 1. Ti tie-Pages and Headings.— Title-pages and the headings
of chapters should be entirely in capitals.
Note. The head-line of the page is usually in a kind of type called small cap-
itals. The headings of sections smaller than a chapter are sometimes printed in
64 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
small capitals, and sometimes by beginning only the principal words with a cap-
ital.
Rule 2. The First Word in a Book, etc. — The first word of every
book, tract, essay, etc., and of every chapter or section, also of
every letter, note, or writing of any kind, should begin with a
capital.
Rule 3. The First Word in a Sentence. — The first word of every
sentence should begin with a capital.
Rule 4. Numhered Clauses. — Clauses, when separately numbered,
should begin with a capital, though not separated from each other
by a full-point ; as, —
This writer asserts, 1. That Nature is unlimited in her operations; 2. That she
has inexhaustible treasures in reserve ; 3. That knowledge will always be pro-
gressive, and, 4. That all future generations will continue to make discoveries.
Rule 5. The first word after a period, except when used as an
abbreviation, should begin with a capital.
Note 1. The reason of this is that the period brings the sentence to a close.
The first word following it, therefore, begins a new sentence, and should have
the capital, according to Rule 3, already given.
Note 2. For the same reason a capital should follow the mark of interroga-
tion, when equivalent to a period, as it usually is.
Rule 6. First Word of an Example. — The first word of a sentence
or clause which is given as an example should begin with a capital ;
as, " Temperance promotes health."
Note. If the example is not a sentence or a clause, but only a single word, or
a series of words, as, temperance, fortitude, honesty, prudence, etc., no capital is
needed.
Rule 7. Quoting Titles. — In quoting the title of a book, •very
noun, pronoun, adjective, and adverb should begin with a capital ;
as, " Sparks's Life of Washington."
Rule 8. First Word of a Direct Question. — The first word of a
direct question should begin with a capital ; as, —
(Direct question.) His words are, w Why do you not study the lesson?"
(Indirect question.) He desires to know why you do not study the lesson.
Rule 9. First Word of a Direct Quotation. — The first word of a
direct quotation should begin with a capital ; as, —
P TJNCT UA TI O N— CAPITALS. 65
Plutarch says, ■ Lying is the vice of slaves."
Note. If this quotation be changed to the indirect form, no capital will be
needed at the point where the quotation begins ; as, Plutarch says that lying is
the vice of slaves.
Rule 10. Capitals Used for Figures. — Numbers are sometimes rep-
resented by capital letters; as, I., II., II L, IV., etc.
Note. In referring to passages in books, it is very common to number the
chapter, book, sections, etc., in this way, and to begin with a capital each name
of the division mentioned ; as, " Mill's Political Economy, Vol. I, Book III, Chap.
IV, Sec. VI, p. 573." If the references are numerous, this method is found to be
cumbersome and unsightly, and small letters are preferred ; as, " Mill's Political
Economy, vol. i, book iii, chap, iv, sect, vi, p. 573."
Rule 11. The pronoun I, and the interjection O, should always
be capital letters.
Rule 12. Poetry. — The first word of every line of poetry should
begin with a capital.
Rule 13. Names of God. — All names and titles of God should
begin with a capital; as, Jehovah, Father, Creator, Almighty, etc.
Note 1. When any name usually applied to the Supreme Being is used for a
created being, it does not begin with a capital ; as, " The Lord is a great God
above all gods." " Lord of lords, King of kings."
Note 2. Providence is sometimes used to mean God, that is. the One who pro-
vides for us; Heaven likewise is used to mean the One who reigns in heaven.
In such cases the word should begin with a capital. But if only God's provi-
dential care, or his place of abode is meant, a capital is not needed.
Note 3. The adjectives eternal, universal, heavenly, divine, etc., when applied
to God, need not begin with a capital, unless somethi g in the particular in-
stance makes them emphatic. Custom, however, has made capitals necessary in
the following instances: Almighty God, Infinite One, Supreme Being, First
Cause.
Note 4. When an attribute of God is expressed, not by an adjective, as in the
instances above, but by a noun dependent upon another noun, as " Father of
mercies" for "Merciful Father," the dependent noun in such combinations
does not require a capital.
Note 8. " Son of God," as applied to our Saviour, requires that both nouns
should begin with a capital; "Son of man" requires no capital for the latter
noun.
Note 6. Great diversity prevails in regard to the pronouns, when referring
to God. Some authors, in printing a hymn or a prayer, make the page fairly
bristle with capitals, every pronoun that refers in any manner to God being
decorated in that manner. The first stage of this fancy is that which prints in
6* E
66 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
this manner Thou, Thine, Thee. In the second stage, He, His, Him are thus
treated. The last and highest stage shows itself in the relative pronouns. Who,
Whose, and Whom. In the standard editions of the English Bible, the pronouns,
when referring to God, are never printed in this way, not even in forms of
direct address to the Deity ; as, " But thou, O Lord, be merciful unto me," etc.
Rule 14. Proper Names. — All proper names should begin with
capitals ; as, Jupiter, Mahomet, Brahma, Pompey, Lake Erie, Mon-
day, Good Friday, Rome, China, France.
Note 1. The word devil, when used to designate Satan, should begin with a
capital ; in all other cases, with a small letter ; as, " The Devil and his angels."
'• The devils also believe and tremble."
Note 2. The same persons who capitalize the first letter of the pronouns
when referring to God, capitalize the first letter of heaven and hell when refer-
ring to the abodes of the blessed and of the lost. But such is not the usage in
the Bible, which is the most carefully printed book in the language. " If I
ascend up into heaven, thou art there : if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou
art there."
Note 3. North, South, East, and West, when used to denote certain parts of the
country or of the world, should begin with a capital ; as, " This man evidently is
a native of the West." But when they denote merely geographical direction,
they should begin with a small letter; as, " Ohio lies west of the Alleghanies."
Note 4. When a name is compounded of a proper name and of some other
word which is not a proper name, connected by a hyphen, the part which is not
a proper name begins with a capital, if it precedes the hyphen, but with a small
letter, if it follows the hyphen ; as, Pre- Adamite, New-England, Sunday-school.
Rule 15. Words Derived from Proper Names. — "Words derived
from proper names should begin with a capital ; as, Mahometan,
Brahmin, Christian, Roman; French, Spanish, Grecian; to Chris-
tianize, to Judaize, to Romanize, etc.
Note 1. The names of religious sects, whether derived from proper names
or otherwise, begin with a capital : as, Christians, Pagans, Jews, Gentiles, Lu-
therans, Calvinists, Protestants, Catholics, etc. The names of political parties
likewise begin with capitals ; as, Democrats, Republicans. Radicals, Conserva-
tives, etc.
Note 2. Some words, derived originally from proper names, have by long
and familiar usage lost all reference to their origin, and are printed like ordinary
words, without capitals ; as, simony, damask, jalap, godlike, philippic, to hector, to
galvanize, to japan, etc.
Rule 16. Titles of Honor and Office. — Titles of honor and office
should begin with a capital ; as, The President of the United States,
His Honor the Mayor of Philadelphia, President Madison, Queen
Victoria, Sir Robert Murchison, Your Royal Highness, etc.
P UNCT UA TION— EX A MPL ES. 67
Note. When father, mother, brother, sister, uncle, aunt, etc., immediately pre-
cede a proper name, some writers begin with a capital ; as, Aunt Margaret,
Brother John, etc. But the tendency at present among careful writers is to dis-
continue the use of capitals in such cases. In writing to a person of his father,
mother, etc., it is customary with some, as a mark of respect, to use the capital;
as, " I met your Father yesterday." In the family circle, Father and Mother
often become proper nouns, when, of course, they take the capital. The term
father, when used to denote one of the early Christian writers, is always printed
with a capital ; as, " Chrysostom and Augustine are among the most voluminous
of the Fathers."
Rule 17. Subjects First Introduced. — In works of a scientific
character, when the subject of a particular section is defined, or is
first introduced, it begins with a capital ; as, " A Pronoun is a word
used instead of a noun."
Rule 18. The Bible. — A capital is always used for the terms
ordinarily employed to designate the Bible, or any particular part
or book of the Bible ; as, The Holy Bible, the Sacred Writings, the
Old Testament, the Gospel of Matthew, the Acts of the Apostles,
the Epistle to the Ephesians, the Revelations, the Psalms, etc. In
like manner, a capital is used in giving the names of other sacred
writings, as the Koran, the Zend Avesta, the Puranas, etc.
Rule 19. "Words of Special Importance. — Words describing the
great events of history, or extraordinary things of any kind, which
have acquired a distinctive name, begin with a capital; as, the
Reformation, the Revolution, the war of Independence, the Middle
Ages, Magna Charta, the Gulf Stream, etc.
Rule 20. Personification. — In cases of strongly marked person-
ification, the noun personified should begin with a capital ; as, —
" Hope for a season bade the world farewell.
And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell."
Note. This rule, like that in regard to words of special importance; requires
discretion on the part of the writer. Young and inexperienced writers are prone
to apply it too frequently.
Miscellaneous Examples for Practice.
[Punctuate the following sentences, and make the necessary corrections in re-
gard to capitals, giving your reasons for each alteration.] c
C
1. Charles ^notwithstanding the delay, had left england to work his
way as best he might, out of his Bifficulties - c
2. the £cots therefore^at the break of day ^entered the <2astle .
68 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
3. Fashion is^for the most part;the ostentation of Riches ,
4t„ besides ^f you labor in moderation, it will conduce to Health as
well as to "V^ealth ,
5. Sir Peter Carew(for some unknown reason had written to ask
for his pardon , >
6. The Afanvwhen r^e saw this departeds
7.^the crowd ^as Throgmorton left the court threw up their caps
and shouted ,
8. Elizabeth (who had been requested to attend was not present.
9. The frost had set injthe low damp ground was hard? the $ykes
were frozen •
10. a brown curling beard flowed down upon his chest.
1L) she thought the isle that gave her birth
the sweetest mildest land on earth ,
12. The first Seven carried maces swords, or pole-axes ■
13. She plans provides expatiates triumphs there *
14. Who to the enraptured heart and ear and eye
Teach beauty, virtue. truth and love and melody . %
15. Give me a sanctified and just a charitable and humble a reli-
gious and contented spirit •
16. Now a man -now a seraph and now a beast ■
17. the dragon stands the hieroglyph of evil and gnaws at the
tree of life .
18. The ocelot a beautiful and striped fiend.hisses like a snake .
19. He that calls upon thee is Theodore, the hermit of Teneriffe /
20. Hate, madness ruled the hour .
21. We saw a large opening, or inlet.
22. The Egyptian serpent £he ass-headed devil^ deserves the first
mention as among the oldest personifications of the spirit of evil ,
23. Well Sir Nicholas, what news \
24. Zaccheus,make haste and come down.
25. The conspiracy being crushed twithout bloodshed, an inquiry
into its origin could be carried out at leisure ■
26. Thus preciously freighted^ the ^anish fleet sailed from Co-
runna
27. Cruel and savage as the persecution had become, it was still
inadequate .
28. Faith is opposed to infidelity; hope to despair,- charity to en-
mity and hostility •
29. Allegory kills the symbolical, as prose, poetry .
PUNCTUATION— EXAMPLES. 69
30. Elizabeth threw herself in front of Marie Antoinette exclaim-
ing, I am the queen . }i
31. Kant saiigive me matter and I will build the world .
32.;>Whatever happens.Mary exclaims^ Elizabeth, I am the wife of
the Prince of Spain;crown/ rank Hfe, all shall go before I will take
any other husband#
33. In the regions inhabited by angelic natures,unmingled felicity
forever blooms/ joy flows there with a perpetual and abundant
stream, nor needs any mound to check its course -
34. In this way we learned* that miss Steele never succeeded in
catching the doctor that Kitty Bennett was satisfactorily married by
a clergyman near Pemberton, that the " considerable sum1' given by
Mrs. Norris to William Price was one pound,' and that the letters
placed by Churchill before Jane Fairfax Lwhich she swept away un-
rea(L,contained the word pardon .
35. The daring youth explained everythingdie presented philoso-
phy in a familiar form die brought it home to men's bosoms'he made
all smooth and easy •
36. Then he shivers his sword in piecesjhe longs to die/the veins
of his neck start out- they burst.his noble blood wells forth -
37. Ars in^atin is the contrary of in-ers jit is the contrary of in-
actioruit is action,
38. Make hay while the sun shinesjfor clouds will surely come •
39.ythere are five nioods^the1 indicative the potential, the^subjunc-
tive.the* imperative,and the infinitive,
40. Princes have courtiers, and merchants have partners;the volup-
tuous have companions and the wicked have accomplices; none but
the virtuous have friends, K U Jl
41. in his last Moments He uttered these words:i fall a sacrifice to
sloth and luxury _^_
42. Lengthen .AJ>.&w#t7A,equivalent to lengn lencg from lang long
"Xlhe longest measure of any object, in distinction from depth thickness
breadth or width, the extent of anything from end to endjthe longest
line which can be drawn through a body parallel to its sides -as the
length of a church ,the length of a rope?
43. John Tillotson, Archbishop of Canterbury. obtained great celeb-
rity as a preachertnis sermons at his death were purchased for no
*The teacher may multiply indefinitely examples of this kind by referring to any
large Dictionary containing the derivation and definition of words. Such exercises
are of the greatest importance and value in teaching punctuation. A like use may
be made of the sums in Arithmetic and Algebra.
70 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
less sum than two thousand five hundred guineasjthey continue to
the present time to be read .and to be held in high estimation as in-
structive, rational- and impressive discourses,
44. Sir Roger L'Estrange enjoyed in the reigns of Charles IX and
James VII, great notoriety as an occasional political writer <fce is
known also as a translator^ having produced versions of Esop's Fa-
bles, Seneca's Morals, Cicero's offices Erasmus's Colloquies Quevedo's
Visions and the works of Josephus .
45. Another lively describer of human character who flourished
in this period, was Dr. Walter Charleton, physician to Charles 11 jx
friend of Hobbes; and for several years president of the college of
physicians in London.
46. Bacchanalian (pertaining to the festivals of BacchuSjthe god
of wine, which were celebrated by a triumphal procession, wherein
men and women went about rioting ,dancing; and indulging in all
sorts of licentious extravagance •
47. Horologe horo hour and loge that which tells or notes^s from
two greek words signifying together that which tells the hour a sun
dial a clock a timepiece
48. Bacon, Francis, usually known as Lord bacon^was born in
London, England, Jan 22, 1560. and died 1626' he was famous as a
scholar a wit, a lawyer, a judge;a statesman,and a politician.
49. Early one morning they came to the estate of a wealthy farmet.;
they found him standing before the stable, and heard as they drew
near, that he was scolding one of his men; because he had left the
ropes with which they tied their horses in the rain all night, instead
of putting them away in a dry place, ah we shall get very little here,
said one to the other/that man is very close;^fe will at least try said
another, and they approached .
50. The clear conception outrunning the deductions of logic the
high purposethe firm resolve ;'the dauntless spirit speaking in the
tongue^ beaming from the eye, informing every feature and urging
the whole man onward, right onward to his object, 4his this is elo-
quenccor rather, it is something greater and higher than all elo-
quence it- is actio^noble^sublime^ godlike action,
51. But it will be urged perhaps -sir, in behalf of the California
gold- that v though one crop only of gold can be gathered from the
same spot yet once gatheredsit lasts to the end of time while our
vegetable gold is produced only to be consumed is gone forever but
this. Mr. president would be a most egregious error both ways -
CHAPTER II.
DICTION.
Diction is that part of Rhetoric which treats of the selec-
tion and the right use of words.
Command of Words Important. — No one can be successful as a
writer or a speaker, who has not a great number of words at his
command, and who has not such a knowledge of the precise mean-
ing of each as to be able in all cases to select just that word which
expresses most perfectly the idea intended.
How Obtained, — It is not in the power of rules to give one a
command of words. To this end, two things chiefly are necessary ;
an enlarged course of reading, and a habit of observation in regard
to the words met with. Linguistic studies are particularly suited
to enlarge one's vocabulary. Habitual association with persons
of education .and refinement has likewise a tendency to increase
one's stock of words. Some persons have by nature a special
talent for this species of acquisition, and words on almost every
subject seem to come at their bidding. Such a talent, whether
natural or acquired, is of the greatest importance.
Extemporaneous Translation. — One method, strongly recommended
by Prof. Marsh, for acquiring a ready and wide command of words
is the practice of extemporaneous translation, that is, of reading
off into English a book, or a newspaper, which is in a foreign
language. Authors who are accustomed to express only their
own thoughts, form for themselves unconsciously a comparatively
narrow vocabulary. The practice of extemporaneous translation
forces one into new trains of thought, demanding new words and
forms of expression, and thus enlarges continually his vocabulary,
71
72 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
and lifts him ont of the rut of pet words and stereotyped phrases
into which he would otherwise fall.
Habit of Referring to the Dictionary. — For acquiring an accurate
knowledge of the meaning of words, much may be done by judi-
cious training, both at home and at school. Students should be
sent to the dictionary, every hour of the day, and in every exer-
cise where a question can arise as to the meaning of a word, until
the habit is fully established, in the mind of the learner, of giving
a peremptory challenge to every word whose meaning is not thor-
oughly known.
Study of Etymology. — A proper study of the etymology of words,
with suitable exercises for practice in combining them, conduces to
the same end : and for this purpose, a good manual of instruction
in the derivation and meaning of words is an indispensable requi-
site of the school-room.*
Divisions of the Subject. — The qualities of Style most
needed, so far as Diction is concerned, are Purity, Propriety,
and Precision.
Note. These topics have, in former treatises on Rhetoric, been treated under
the head of Sentences. But they clearly belong to the subject of Diction. They
are attributes, not of sentences, but of words, the materials out of which sen-
tences are made.
I. PURITY.
Diction, when Pure. — An author's diction is pure when
he uses such words only as belong to the idiom of the lan-
guage, in opposition to words that are foreign, obsolete, newly
coined, or without proper authority.
Standard of Purity. — The only standard of purity is the
practice of the best writers and speakers. A violation of
purity is called a Barbarism.
1. Foreigrn Words.
Pedantry and Affectation.— It savors of pedantry and affectation
to introduce unnecessarily into discourse words from foreign lan-
* Webb's Model Etymology is recommended aa au excellent unuual for this pur-
pose.
DICTION— PURITY. 73
guages, as from the French, the Latin, and so forth. This fault is
most common with persons whose attainments are comparatively
limited, and who are ambitious of showing off what little learn-
ing they have. Kipe scholars, whose knowledge of languages is ex-
tensive and profound, rarely interlard their discourse with foreign
terms.
Foreign Words Domesticated. — Sometimes a foreign word acquires
a special historical significance, or it is adopted, unchanged from
its original form, as an English word; as, the Jiat of the Almighty,
the shibboleth of party, the palladium of liberty, an ignis fatuus,
an ignoramus, a cabal, a quorum, an omnibus, an incognito, an
anathema, an item, a paradise. In such cases, where the foreign
word is one whose meaning has become familiar to ordinary
readers,— when, in fact, it expresses that meaning more precisely
than any translation could do, — there may be more pedantry in
translating a word than in using it in the form with which the pub-
lic is already familiar.
2. Obsolete Words — New Words.
No Absolute Standard. — A word is not necessarily to be rejected
because it is new. New words are continually coming into use.
This is the general law of all languages. So long as they are
living languages, they are subject to perpetual change, old words
dropping out and new ones coming in. No absolute rule can be
given for determining when an old word has become so far obsolete
as to make it unsafe any longer to use it, or when a new word has
sufficient sanction from writers and speakers to give it a claim to be
considered good English. A few examples will illustrate this.
Throughly, formed legitimately from the preposition through, was staple English
in the time of Spenser. It is now obsolete, except for the purpose of quaintness
or drollery.
Outsider.— No one now would hesitate to use the word outsider. Yet prior to
the convention which in 1844 nominated Mr. I'olk for the Presidency, the word
had no better claim to being English than insider, undersider, uppersider, right-
sider, leftsider, etc. At that convention, according to Prof. Marsh, when an
undue pressure was made upon the delegates, by those from without who were
not delegates, some one, with a happy audacity of language, described it as a
pressure from the " outsiders ; " and this term, caught up by the reporters, so
suited the convenience of the public that it went at once into general circulation,
and it has since fairly established itself as a constituent part of the language.
Intensify.— It is rather startling to be told that the word " intensify" is not yet
fifty years old. Coleridge, in his Biographia Literaria, tells us that he deliber-
7
74 COM T0SIT10N AND RHETORIC.
ately coined the word, because there was no other in existence to express a par-
ticular shade of meaning which he wished to convey.
Starvation was first used by Henry Dundas in 1775, in a speech in Parliament,
which obtained for him the name of Starvation Dundas. It was supposed to be
the only instance of a noun formed by adding the Latin ending -ation to a Saxon
root, but flirtation is a similar example.
Sculptor, peninsula, suicide, opera, and umbrella, were unknown to the English
tongue until the middle of the seventeenth century.
Bentley in the last century had to defend himself for using such novelties as
repudiate, concede, vernacular, timid, and idiom.
Campbell, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, first published in 1776, marks the fol-
lowing words as so far obsolete as not to be allowable in ordinary prose : tribula-
tion, behest, erewhile, ignore, adroitness, and he hesitates about the following words
on account of the newness of their introduction : continental, sentimental, origin-
ality, criminality, capability, originate.
Suspended Animation of Wards. — Words frequently pass out of
use for a time, and then resume their place in literature again,
and this suspended animation of words, followed by a revival and
restoration to full activity, is one of the most curious facts in the
history of language.
The word reckless was in current use until after the beginning of the sixteenth
century. It then became so nearly obsolete that Hooker, who used it in 1650, felt
obliged to explain it in a marginal note. It has since been revived, and is now
thoroughly familiar to every English-speaking person.
Abate and abandon, which, after an active existence of some centuries, fell into
disuse in the seventeenth century, and were so marked in the dictionary, are
now again a part of current English.
Kind of New Words to be Avoided. — A writer who is careful of
the purity of his diction will avoid any new word, no matter how
distinguished the author by whom it has been introduced, if it is
formed in a manner contrary to the genius of the language.
Law of Verbal Formation. — One of the laws of verbal forma-
tion is that the component parts of a word should be of similar
linguistic origin. This rule is violated when a word is made up of
two parts, one of which is Saxon, the other Greek or Latin. For
example; the termination -ity, which is of Latin origin, corre-
sponds in meaning to the termination -nm, which is Saxon. The
Latin ending, therefore, is used in making words from Latin stems,
as cavity from cav-us, unity from un-us, purity from jowr-us, brevity
from brev-\s, acidity from ticid-us. In like manner, the Saxon
ending is used in making words from Saxon stems, as hollow-mw
from hollow, one-ness from one, same-wm from same, Bour-ness from
DICTION— PURITY. 75
sour. Thus also telegraph, telegraphic, telegram are legitimate for-
mations, the various component parts tele, graph, gram, and ic being
Greek. But cable-graph and cable-gram are barbarisms, the first
part of the compound being from one language, the latter part from
another. Ambrotype and electrotype are legitimate, ivorytype is
barbarous. Mongrel formations of this kind should be avoided.
Law of Formation not Universal.— The rule given above, in regard
to the formation of words, is, however, far from being universal.
Thus appositeness is a good word, although formed with a Saxon
ending upon a Latin stem.
Both Modes of Formation on the Same Stem.— In many cases the same
stem gives two words of like meaning, one with a Saxon, the other with a Latin
ending, as purity purencss, credibility credibleness. In snch cases, the one formed
regularly, that is, with stem and ending both from the same source, is generally
a better word than the other, as it is in the instance last given, credibility being a
better word than credibleness.
Safe Plan in Regard to New Words.— The safe plan in regard to
new words is not to be in a hurry about using them. A writer has
before him, for his selection, such an abundance of words, about
which there can be no question, that a case can rarely occur, in
which the use of a doubtful word is necessary. We may indeed
have occasion to speak of a new invention, or a new idea, for which
there is no word but that originating with the invention or the idea
itself. In such a case, of course, we need not hesitate about using
the new word. But in all ordinary cases, the safest plan for a
writer or a speaker is to select only well-known and fully accredited
words, in preference either to those which have become partially
obsolete and uncurrent, or to those which by reason of the fresh-
ness of their coinage are still of doubtful currency.
Pope's Rule.— The rule is well stated by Pope, in his Essay on
Criticism :
In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold;
Alike fantastic, if too new or old;
Be not the first by whom the new are tried,
Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.*
In discussing the subject of purity of diction, I have thus far spoken of words
which are wanting in this respect by reason of their being foreign, obsolete, or
newly coined. It remains to speak of those which want proper atdhority.
♦The student should commit these lines thoroughly to memory.
76 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
3. Words without Proper Authority.
The Question. — What constitutes the Proper Authority for the
use of a word ? What is the court in the last resort, which deter-
mines beyond appeal whether a word is, or is not, good English ?
The Answer. — If a people, by common consent, use a particular
word to mean a certain thing, that word is a part of the language
of that people.
The Dictum of Horace.— The dictum of Horace* to this effect has
received, I believe, the general assent of the critics, and it may now
be considered as a part of the undisputed creed of the learned,
namely, that Use is the law of language, whether for single words,
grammatical forms, or grammatical constructions.
Danger of Misconception.— But the law as thus expressed is liable
to many misconceptions. It needs, therefore, some special limita-
tions and definitions, in order to make it practically useful for the
purpose of determining, in any particular case, whether a word is
right or wrong.
Campbell's Essay.— 5To one has written on this point with more
clearness and comprehensiveness than Dr. Campbell, in his Phil-
osophy of Rhetoric, before quoted. His extended chapter on " The
Nature and Characters of the Use which gives Law to Language,"
is exhaustive of the subject, and should be studied by every one who
wishes to enter into the matter fully.f
The results at which Campbell arrives, and in which all critics
since his day have acquiesced, may be summed up as follows :
Campbell's Law. — The Use which determines authorita-
tively whether a word is legitimate must have these three
marks :
1. It must be Reputable, or that of educated people, as
opposed to that of the ignorant and vulgar.
2. It must be National, as opposed to what is either local
or technical.
3. It must be Present, as opposed to what is obsolete.
* " Usus,
Quem penes arbitrium est et jus et norma loquendi." — Hor. De Art? Poet.
fFor the convenience of those readers who may not have access to Campbell's
work, an abstract of his argument is given at the end of the present chapter.
DICTION— PURITY. 77
The Way to Find these Marks. — The only way to ascertain
that a word has these characters is to find it so used in the major-
ity of writers of good reputation. In all ordinary cases, we refer
to a Dictionary, since it is the duty of a lexicographer to ascertain
these facts by research, and to mark them in his work. In the
best works of this kind, every word that is admitted to a place in
the Dictionary is assumed to have these characters, unless the lexi-
cographer distinctly marks the word as being obsolete, vulgar, pro-
vincial, technical, etc.; and, in very many cases, passages from
authors of reputation are quoted, to show how the word is used.
Note. The study of Diction is a necessary incident of every other study. We
cannot learn any branch of knowledge without, at the same time, and by the
same act, becoming familiar with the words in which that knowledge is con-
veyed. Still some special study of the subject is desirable ; and, to facilitate
such a study, the following Exercises have been prepared. The words given
below are arranged in lists of ten for mere convenience. They are selected with
reference to the question of Purity, under some one or more of the heads now
considered, namely, foreign, obsolete, newly coined, without proper author-
ity. To test the better the student's knowledge, and to exercise his judgment,
the words are put together promiscuously, and part of them are entirely legiti-
mate. The student will need of course a good Dictionary for preparing himself
on these exercises ; and if he have access to one of the large quartos, all the
better.
The points to be considered in regard to a word are the following:
1. Is it a foreign word? If so, has it been thoroughly domesticated as good
English? or would its use savor of pedantry?
2. Is it a word which was once in use, but is now obsolete? What was its
meaning when it was used?
3. Is it a new word ? If so, has it been in use long enough to become legiti-
mate ? or would its use be considered doubtful ?
4. Is there any irregularity in the formation of the word?— if so, is the irreg-
ularity sufficient to condemn it ?
5. Is the word vulgar, technical, provincial, or in any way unsuited for com-
mon use ?
6. In every case, give the meaning and the etymology of the word, and the
authority on which it is pronounced legitimate or otherwise.
7. Whenever possible, quote Extracts from known authors in illustration of
the opinion pronounced.
These extracts may be brought in ready written, but the other part of the work
should be done in the class-room, in the same manner as any other part of the
recitation. The student has a model of what he is to learn and to say, in regard
to each word, in what is said of the several words introduced and explained on
pages 73, 74.
Exercises on Purity of Diction.
1. Cisatlantic, alamode, waitress, exit, plebiscitum, depot, role,
ultimatum, mulierosity^ aborigines.
7*
78 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
2. Gallantness, obloquy, incgrtain, talkist, resurrected, periculous,
moonrise, docible, cockney, alibi.
3. Jeopardize, preventative, orate, memento, ne'e, herbarium,
soundness, currentness, boyish, locate.
4. Confutement, civilist, expenseless, peristyle, opaque, populos-
ity, soupqon, finale, blase, alias.
5. Controversialist, kraal, lapidary, leniency, distingue, feuille-
ton, protege, verbatim, rendezvous, surtout. ,
6. Imprimatur, sangfroid, upholstery, traducement, waMdst, pro-
faneness^ atelier, enthused^ thirster, optigrapiu
7. Septemfluous, spendthrift, confutant, caviare, underlauded,
saleslady, amende, employe, equidistant, terra cotta.
8. Impromptu, pot-pourri, efflorescence, fabulosity, rootfastness,
obediential, elocutist, disillusioned, rampage, bookish.
9. Ilagallantry, discursiveness, optable, amour propre, residuum,
parvenu, vesper, rebus, acrobat, fauteuil.
10. Soidisant, rotatory, mandamus, nom de plume, siesta, curious-
ness, fashionist, skedaddle, bootless, oppressors,
11. Misaffected, insulse, exorablen£ss, verily, spirituel, casuality,
matin, patois, elegy, instanter.
12. Affidavit, conversationist, donate, dilettante, on_dit, junta,
persiflage, tapis, circumambient, debatcmenk
13. DisobedientnesSj optation, chef-d'oeuvre, fete, plateau, occi-
dental, avoidance, admonishment, mulish, misdevotion.
To the Teacher. 1. If any of the words in the foregoing lists are not to be
found in the dictionary to which the student has access, the student should of
course be relieved from censure for not being prepared on these particular
words. 2. The teacher should make a note of all barbarisms in Diction which
he hears in the class, and use such words for additional examples. 3. Exercises
of this kind should be continued until a habit of attention to the subject is firmly
fixed in the mind of the student.
H. PROPRIETY.
Difference between Purity and Propriety of Diction. —
Purity of diction refers simply to the question whether a
word is, or is not, in good and current use, as an established
part of the language. But another question arises in regard
to every word used in discourse. Is the word used correctly
in the sentence in which it occurs? The word may be a per-
fectly good word, and yet it may not express the meaning
DICTION— PROPRIETY. 79
which the writer evidently intended to express. A writer
who fails in this respect offends against Propriety.
This, then, is the second point to which a writer or a
speaker should attend. He should see that every word which
he uses conveys exactly the meaning which he wishes to convey.
Means of Attaining Propriety. — To attain propriety of diction, the
chief means are a frequent use of the Dictionary, and a constant ob-
servation of the way in which words are used in good authors. A
study of the derivation of words is also a help in ascertaining their
meaning. But this source of information is to be used with some
caution, as many words acquire in actual use a meaning very differ-
ent from that which their etymology would suggest.
Examples. — A few examples are given of words whose meaning
has changed from that indicated by the etymology.
Prevent, which means etymologically, and which once meant actually, to go
before,* now means to hinder.
Resent means etymologically to reciprocate, or respond to, any kind of feeling,
good or bad, and it once actually had this meaning. Three centuries ago a man
could speak of resenting a benefit, as well as resenting an injury. The use of
later times has restricted the word to the single meaning.
Censure has undergone a like change. Originally, it meant to express any kind
of opinion, favorable or unfavorable ; f now it refers to that only which is un-
favorable.
Liquidate meant originally to melt, to change from a solid to a liquid state.
Next, it meant to make clear, or transparent, and this meaning it bore down to a
comparatively recent date. " Time only can liquidate the meaning of all parts of
a compound system."— Hamilton. Now, the word means to pay off debts.
Adviire, in the time of Milton, was still used in its Latin sense, to wonder at.
Now it means only to regard with esteem and reverence.
Spenser speaks of a "chapel edified," meaning built; a modern poet would
speak of edifying the hearers, not the building.
Milton speaks of his matter being "new or insolent" meaning unusual, unac-
customed. In like manner he " provokes" [challenges] his antagonist to a trial
of the truth.
Clerk was originally a clergyman ; in Chaucer, he is a college student; now, he
is a young man who keeps accounts, or sells tape and buttons.
Station is used by Shakespeare for the manner of standing, posture ; now it
means placed
* " I prevented the dawning of the morning." Ps. 119 : 147, and so throughout the
Psalms.
t When Brutus, in the play of Julius Cssar, says to the Romans, "Censure me in
your wisdom," he does not ask them to condemn him, but only to judge him, — to
decide for or against him.
% " A station like the herald Mereurv,
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing' hill."
Haudel, Act III.,Sc. IV.
80 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Violations of Propriety. — This part of the subject may be best
illustrated by quoting a few instances of words used improperly.
Predicate.— In a leading editorial of one of the New York daily newspapers, I
read this sentence: "It is impossible at the present moment to predicate what
will be the issue of the pending contest." It is hardly necessary to say that to
predicate is simply to affirm in regard to what already is, whereas to predict is to
foretell the future. The impropriety of the use of predicate here given is so ob-
vious that I should not have quoted it, had not frequent instances come to my
notice of its being used in this way in publications of respectable standing and
character.
Mutual is frequently used improperly in the sense of common. "Mutual" always
implies reciprocity. It describes that which passes from each to each of two per-
sons. Rom. 1 : 12, " That I may be comforted by the mutual faith both of you and
me," that is, "by my confidence in you and your confidence in me." Here the
word is used with entire correctness. In like manner we may say " the mutual
love of man and wife." But it is mere nonsense to speak of the " mutual friend of
both man and wife." John and James may be mutual friends, that is, the friend-
ship between them may be reciprocal, John being friendly to James, and James
being friendly to John. John and James also may have a common friend, Peter,
but it would be absurd to speak of Peter as being on this account their mutual
friend. The word " mutual " designates what is reciprocal between two, not
something in one which is common to two or more others.
Except is sometimes improperly used for unless. " Except," whether a verb or a
preposition, requires after it an objective case; as, "They all came except Mary
and Alice." But to say " They all refused to come except Mary and Alice would "
is using the word as a conjunction. The proper word in such cases is unless.
Without is likewise often used in the same way for unless. " I will not go to the
city without [unless] you do." Except is also sometimes used improperly in the
sense of besides. " Few men except [besidesj Caesar would have dared to cross
the Rubicon."
Like.— Another word often used incorrectly is like. The word is correct when-
ever it would be proper to supply " to" after it ; as, " The daughter is like [to)
her mother." "He fought like [toj a lion." But many careless speakers and
writers use it for as. or as if. " I wish I could write like [as] you do." " He behaved
like [as if J he was mad."
Avocation is used incorrectly for vocation. " Vocation " is one's business, occu-
pation, or calling. " Avocation " is properly the act of calling aside, or diverting
from one's employment. " Blessed impulses to duty, and powerful avocations
from sin." South. This use, however, of the word, though its etymological and
primary meaning is now nearly if not quite obsolete, and the secondary moan-
ing, namely, "the business which calls aside." is pretty well established. Even
in this sense, however, it means the smaller affairs of life, or those occasional
calls which summon a man to leave for a time his ordinary business, or " voca-
tion."
Contemptible.— It is not uncommon to hear persons say, " I have a contemptible
opinion of the man," by which they mean, not that their opinion is contemp-
tible, but that the man is. The familiar anecdote of Doctor Porson furnishes a
good illustration both of the incorrect and of the correct use of this word.
Some one having said to the Doctor, "My opinion of you is most eontoinp-
tible," Porson replied, " I never knew an opinion of yours that was not con-
temptible."
DICTION— PROPRIETY. 81
Respectively.— A large part of the letters which pass through the Post-Office end
with " Yours, Respectively."
Construe and Construct. — Occasionally cortstrue and construct are confounded by-
writers of considerable standing. We construct a sentence when we form or
make one. We construe it when we explain its construction. A boy construes
a Latin sentence when he translates it into English and explains its grammatical
structure. He constructs a Latin sentence when he translates an English one
into correct Latin. Writers construct ; readers construe.
Replace.— Some ambiguity has arisen of late in regard to the proper use of the
word replace. According to its etymology, and, until lately, according to its uni-
form use, " replace " meant to put one back into a place which he formerly occu-
pied. It now currently means to put into a place vacated by some one else.
" After the expiration of his first term. General Washington was replaced in the
Presidential chair." This meant in that day that Washington filled the office a
second time. " In the summer of 1867, Stanton was replaced in the War Office by
Grant." This now means that Grant was put into the place which Stanton had
vacated. This latter use of the word is derived from a French expression, signi-
fying " to take the place of," and has perhaps already acquired so much authority
in its favor as to be considered good English.
Got. — There is perhaps no one word so variously misused as " got." It would
seem almost as if there were no event in history, no fact in science, which might
not be expressed by this convenient drudge. I clip the following from an Eng-
lish publication : " I got on horseback within ten minutes after I got your letter.
When I got to Canterbury, I got a chaise for town ; but I got wet through before I
got to Canterbury ; and I have got such a cold as I shall not be able to get rid of in
a hurry. I got to the Treasury about noon, but first of all I got shaved and dressed.
I soon got into the secret of getting a memorial before the Board, but I could not
get an answer then ; however, I got intelligence from the messenger that I should
most likely get an answer the next morning. As soon as I got back to my inn, I
got my supper, and got to bed. It was not long before I got to sleep. When I got
up in the morning, I got my breakfast, and then got myself dressed, that I might
get out in time to get an answer to my memorial. As soon as I got it I got into
the. chaise, and got to Canterbury by three, and about tea-time I got home. I
have got nothing more to say, and so adieu."
Exercises on Propriety of Diction.
Note. Each of the sentences given below contains some word which, though
in itself good English, is used improperly here. The student is expected to point
out the word thus used, show wherein the impropriety consists, and make the
necessary correction.
I must repeat here the admonition to teachers about the daily inspection of
the text-books. No lesson shoiild be commenced until those pages of the book
containing the lessons for the day have passed the inspection of the teacher. A
few pencil-marks on the pages containing the examples for practice make the
book as useless for the purpose of instruction as if the page were actually torn
out of the book.
1. BifeCtry I found the house inhabited, I began to be sorry that
it was not as empty as the library and the street.
F
82 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
2. I want a position as a, teacher, and I will be greatly obliged to
you for a recommend.
3. The girl aggravates me very much by her obstinacy and he*
impudence.
4. The President intends to -evacuate the very day that Congress
adjourns.
5. Hearing the whistle of the engine about a mile off, I ran pell-
TfleU down the street, hoping to reach the station in time.
6. Mr. Peabody was a friend and patron of almost every humani-
tarian schema. Ia~J^a~~v^
7. He was unwilling to demean himself by making a public
apology.
8. His argument was predicated on the behalf that what the wit-
ness said was true.
9. Neither of the twelve jurors could be induced to believe the
man guilty.
10. The epithots, coward, thief, villain, liar, were heaped upon
him without stint.
11. The alternatives set before him were to abjure his faith, to
submit to the torture, or to go into perpetual exile.
12. In travelling by railroad, you have to settk for your ticket in
advance.
13. Do not forget to send me an nmte to your wedding.
14. His style of living corresponded with his means.
15. While spending the summer in Utah he enjoyed exceptionable
opportunities for observing the peculiarities of the Mormon religion.
16. Here is a ticket for the>aft«moon matinee.
17. I promise yon, I think he will come out all right.
18. She entered heartily into the stern amenities of convent life.
19. This idea (of a vessel without a bowsprit) was a copy of the
model maugurated by the founder of the Collins line. /
20. Experience has proved that England lies formidably open to
attack.
21. The troops, though fighting bravely, were terribly decimated,
nearly half of them having fallen.
22. The cars have as good a right to be stopped as the carriage
23. Just now he is stopping at the Metropolitan.
24. No doubt the men have some good points about them, but we
are told not to fellowship with unbelievers.
DICTION— PRECISION. 83
25. The letter was very plainly directed, and I think it will be apt
to come.
' 26. Many years have now transpired since the Mexican war.
27. You will have to run faster than that, if you wish to catch
the car.
28. That rents in New York are most unreasonably high just now
is a^palpraWe truism.
29. I wish you would bring me, a couple of books en chemistry.
30. Miss Goldsmith commenced'student in Yassar College in her
seventeenth year.
31. There is not much fruit in the^ection of the State hereabouts.
32. I have every coaftdesee that the ship will arrive in time.
33. Every human being has this in common.
34. At the noise of fire-engines, some rude fellows rushed out
into the streets, but the balance of the congregation kept their
seats. ^^ i
35. I ttpect you had a hard time of it yesterday.
36. I consider the picture Weber's best.
37. The platform adopted by the party was eatenhited to do the
candidate great harm.
38. This application of reason, so continually, consistently, and
generally exercised, predicates a great national future.
39. He eeetpleles- the book with ^'Hail Columbia, Happy Land! "
40. Selfish men sometimes succeed in deceiving the world, and in
being se£- aside as generous.
IH. PRECISION.
Precision is the third quality at which a writer or a
speaker should aim in the selection of his words.
Meaning of Precision. — The etymology of this term (praecidere,
to cut off) shows how it is used. We should, if possible, find words
which cut off all extraneous ideas, — which express only just what
is meant, and no more.
Examples of Words not used Precisely. — If to express the idea of pour-
ing water from a pot. we speak of " turning it out," the latter word, in addition
to the idea of pouring, expresses also the act of turning the pot, in order to the
pouring. Turning, therefore, in this phrase, is not used precisely.
" Notwithstanding the entreaties of the prisoner, the judge was inflexible." A
man is inflexible who is incapable of being turned aside by any motive,— by
bribery, intimidation, entreaty, force, etc. As a specific motive is here men-
84 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
tioned, that of entreaty, a more precise writer would have used the word inexoT'
able, which means specifically one who cannot be moved by entreaty.
"Attitude of devotion " is a more precise expression than "posture of devotion,"
because " posture " signifies any position of the body, while " attitude " refers
to such a position of the body as is adapted tp express some internal feeling or
purpose.
The Study of Synonyms. — One who wishes to use words with pre-
cision should study carefully the subject of Synonyms. Few words
in any language are exactly synonymous. Many, which at first
sight appear to be so, are found on examination to have shades of
difference, and it is by noticing these slight differences of meaning
that we learn to use words with precision.
Character of the English Language in Regard to Synonyms. — The
English, more than almost any other language, has words that are
truly synonymous, and this on account of its composite character.
For the same idea we have, in thousands of instances, one word
from the Saxon, another from the Latin, and sometimes still a third
from the Greek ; as, daily and diurnal, weekly and hebdomadal, hap-
piness tuna felicity, everlasting and sempiternal, fatherly and pater-
nal, nightly and nocturnal, powerful and potential.
A Caution.— Even here, however, care must be taken. Optician, from the
Greek, means a maker of instruments for the eye; Oculist, from the Latin,
means one who performs operations upon the eye itself; and JEue-doctor, from
the mother-tongue, means a quack who has some nostrum for curing sore eyes.
Motherly may perhaps be the exact logical equivalent for maternal, but it is
worth a good deal more to a loving heart when away from the endearments of
childhood and home.
Books on the Subject. — Grabbed Dictionary of Synonyms is a most
valuable work for reference on this subject. Another excellent
work is Koget's Thesaurus of English Words. The matter is also
carefully treated in the latest edition of Webster's Quarto Diction-
ary, where under many of the leading words the various other words
which are nearly synonymous are given, and the differences ex-
plained. The subject is also discussed briefly, but in a judicious
and satisfactory manner, by Blair in his Lectures on Rhetoric. I
give a few examples, taken chiefly from these sources, though with
some alterations to suit the purposes of the present work.
A difficulty, an obstacle.— A difficulty embarrasses, an obstacle stops us. We re-
move the one, we surmount the other. Generally, the first expresses something
arising from the nature and circumstances of the affair; the second something
arising from a foreign cause. Philip found difficulty in managing the Athe-
DICTION— PRECISION. 85
nians from the nature of their dispositions ; but the eloquence of Demosthenes
was the greatest obstacle to his designs.
Opportunity, occasion.— An occasion is that which falls in our way, or presents
itself in the course of events ; an opportunity is a convenience or fitness of time
and place for the doing of a thing. Hence opportunities often spring out of occa-
sions. We may have occasion to meet a person frequently without getting an
opportunity to converse with him on a particular subject about which we are
anxious. We act as occasion may require ; we embrace an opportunity.
Malevolence, malice, malignity.— There is the same difference between malevo-
lence and malice as between wishes and intentions. A malevolent man wishes ill
to others, a malicious man is bent on doing ill to them. Malignity goes even fur-
ther ; it not only is bent on doing evil, but loves it for its own sake. One who is
malignant must be both malevolent and malicious; but a man may be malicious
without being malignant.
Weight, heaviness.— Weight is indefinite ; whatever may be weighed has weight,
whether large or small. Heaviness is the property of bodies having an unusual
degree of weight. Weight lies absolutely in the thing; heaviness refers to an
opinion which some one may have in regard to that thing as being the opposite
of light. We estimate the weight of things by a certain fixed measure ; we esti-
mate the heaviness of things by our feelings.
Pale, pallid, wan.— The absence of color in any degree, where color is a usual
quality, constitutes paleness ; pallidness is an excess of paleness, and wanness is
an unusual degree of pallidness. Fear, or any sudden emotion, may produce
paleness; protracted sickness, hunger, and fatigue bring on pallidness; and when
these calamities are greatly heightened and aggravated, they produce wanness.
Pale is applicable to a great variety of objects, as. a pale face, a pale sky, a pale
green, a pale rose, and it may be either natural or acquired, desirable or unde-
sirable. Pallid is applicable to the human face only, and never to that except
as implying disease or something out of the course of nature. Wan is applicable
to a face having such a degree of pallor as to be ghastly and monstrous.
Avow, acknowledge, confess.— Each of these words imports the affirmation of a
fact, but in very different circumstances. To avow a thing, supposes a person to
glory in it; to acknowledge, supposes a small degree of faultiness, which the ac-
knowledgment compensates; to con/ess, supposes a higher degree of crime. An
independent legislator avows his opposition to some measure of the executive,
and is applauded; a gentleman acknowledges his mistake, and is forgiven: a
prisoner confesses the crime with which he is charged, and is punished.
Lucid, luminous.— A thing is lucid, when it is pervaded with light: it is lumi-
nous, when it sends forth light to other bodies. A stream may be lucid ; the stars
are luminous. An argument is lucid, when the reasoning is perfectly clear to the
apprehension ; it is luminous, when the author not only makes his meaning clear,
but pours a flood of light upon the subject.
Only, alone.— Only imports that there is no other of the same kind ; alone im-
ports being accompanied by no other. An only child is one who has neither
brother nor sister ; a child alone is one who is left by itself. " Only virtue makes
us happy " means that nothing else can do it. " Virtue alone makes us happy "
means that virtue by itself, and unaccompanied with other advantages, is suffi-
cient to do it.
Kill, murder, assassinate.— To kill means simply to deprive of life. A man may
kill another by accident, or in self-defence, without the imputation of guilt. To
8
86 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
murder is to kill with malicious forethought and intention. To assassinate is to
murder suddenly and by stealth. The sheriff may kill without murdering: the
duellist murders, but does not assassinate ; the assassin both kills and murders in
the meanest and most ignoble manner.
Discover, invent.— We discover what existed before, but was unknown ; we in-
vent what is new. Columbus discovered America, Whitney invented the cotton-
gin. Henry discovered the laws of electric induction, Morse invented the
telegraph.
Kingly, regal, royal.— Kingly, which is Anglo-Saxon, refers especially to the
character of a king; regal, which is Latin, refers more to the office. The former
is chiefly used of dispositions, feelings, purposes, and the like ; the latter is ap-
plied more to external state. We speak of kingly deeds, kingly sentiments, "a
kingly heart for enterprises'" (Sidney), but of the regal title, regal pomp. Royal,
which comes from regal through the French, has a meaning more akin to
kingly.
Whole, entire, total, complete.— Whole refers to a thing as made up of parts none of
which are wanting: as a whole book, that is, a book with no leaves out. Total
has reference to all as taken together and forming a single unit or totality ; as,
the total amount, the sum total. Entire has no reference to parts at all, but con-
siders a thing as being integer, that is, unbroken or continuous ; as, the entire
summer. Complete refers to preceding progress ending in the perfect filling out
of some plan or purpose; as; a complete victory.
Contagion, infection.— Both words imply the communication of something bad.
In the case of contagion, this is done by outward contact or touch ; in the case
of infection, by invisible influences working inwardly. The plague and small-
pox are contagious, various forms of fever are infectious. Bad manners are
contagious ; bad principles, infectious.
Explicit, express.— Both words convey the idea of clearness in a statement, but
the latter is the stronger word of the two. Explicit denotes something set forth
so plainly that it cannot well be misunderstood. Express adds a certain degree
of force to this clearness. An express promise is not only one in clear, unam-
biguous words, but one standing out in bold relief, with a binding hold on the
conscience. We speak of an explicit statement, but of an express command.
Excite, incite.— To excite is to awaken or arouse feelings that were dormant or
calm. To incite is to urge forward into acts correspondent to the feelings which
have been awakened.
With, by.— Both words imply a connection between some instruments or means,
and the agent by whom it is used ; but with signifies a more close and immediate
connection, by a more remote one. An ancient king of Scotland interrogated his
nobles as to the tenure by which they held their lands. The chiefs, starting Dp,
drew their swords, saying. " By these [the remote means] we acquired our lands,
and with these [the immediate instrument] we will defend them." We kill a man
with a sword ; he dies by violence.
Sufficient, enough. — Sufficient refers to actual wants; enough, to the desires, to
what we think we want. A man has sufficient, when his wants are supplied ; he
has enough, when his desires are satisfied. A greedy man never has enough,
though he may have a sufficiency. Another distinction is that enough is used
of objects of desire only, while sufficient may be spoken of anything which serves
a purpose. " Children and animals seldom have enough food." " We should
allow sufficient time for whatever is to be done, if we wish it to be done well."
EXERCISES IN PRECISION. 87
Example, instance.— An instance denotes the single case then standing before
us, and does not necessarily imply that there are other cases like it. An example,
on the contrary, is, by its very terms, one of a class of like things. It is a sample
of a class. An example presupposes and implies a rule, an established course
or order of things ; an instance simply points out what is true in that particular
case, but may not necessarily be true in any other case. " An instance or two
of severity in the life of a man who gave every day examples of his kindness
of heart, ought not to change our opinions of his character as a whole."
[To the Teacher. By frequent practice in tracing the differences between words
seemingly alike, such as those which have now been adduced, a habit will be formed
of noticing more particularly the exact meaning of the words we meet with, and
thus our own diction will almost unconsciously acquire greater precision. To aid
in the formation of this important habit, additional examples are given below of
words partially synonymous, but with varying shades of meaning. Each of these
sets of words is to be explained and illustrated by the student in the same man-
ner as those already given.]
Exercises in Precision.
1. Abandon, desert, forsake; abettor, accessory, accomplice; abase,
debase, degrade ; ability, capacity ; abash, confuse, confound.
2. Abdicate, resign ; abolish, repeal, abrogate, revoke, annul, nul-
lify ; abridgment, compendium, epitome, abstract, synopsis ; absent,
abstracted ; absolve, exonerate, acquit.
3. Abuse, invective; accomplish, effect, execute, achieve, per-
form; account, narrative, narration, recital; accuse, charge, im-
peach, arraign; acknowledge, recognize.
4. Acquaintance, familiarity, intimacy; add, join, annex, unite,
coalesce; adjacent, adjoining, contiguous; adjourn, prorogue; ad-
monition, reprehension, reproof.
5. Adorn, ornament, decorate, embellish ; adulation, flattery, com-
pliment; adversary, enemy, opponent, antagonist; affliction, sorrow,
grief, distress; affront, insult, outrage.
6. Agony, anguish, pang; alarm, fright, terror, consternation;
alleviate, mitigate, assuage, allay; also, likewise, too; altercation,
dispute, wrangle.
7. Amend, emend, correct, reform, rectify; amidst, among; ample,
abundant, copious, plenteous ; amuse, divert, entertain ; ancient,
antiquated, antique, obsolete, old.
8. Anger, fury, indignation, ire, resentment, rage, wrath; ani-
mosity, enmity; announce, proclaim, promulgate, publish; antici-
pate, expect; appreciate, estimate, esteem.
9. Arduous, difficult, hard; argue, debate, dispute; artificer,
artisan, artist; ascribe, attribute, impute; asperse, calumniate,
defame, slander.
88 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
10. Assert, maintain, indicate; at last, at length ; atrocious, flagi-
tious, flagrant; attack, assail, assault, invade; attempt, endeavor,
effort, exertion, trial.
11. Attend, hearken, listen; authentic, genuine; avaricious, cov-
etous, miserly, niggardly, parsimonious, penurious ; avenge, revenge ;
antipathy, aversion, disgust, reluctance, repugnance.
12. Avoid, shun; dread, reverence, veneration; awkward, clum-
sy, uncouth ; adage, aphorism, axiom, maxim ; baffle, defeat, frus-
trate.
13. Banish, exile, expel; bashfulness, diffidence, modesty, shy-
ness ; battle, combat, engagement, fight ; be, exist ; beast, brute.
14. As, because, for, inasmuch as, since; become, grow; ask,
beg, request; benevolent, beneficent; bent, bias, inclination, pre-
possession.
15. Bequeath, devise; beseech, entreat, implore, solicit, suppli-
cate; among, between; blameless, faultless, spotless, stainless;
blaze, flame.
16. Burden, load; calculate, compute, count, reckon; calamity,
disaster, mischance, misfortune, mishap; call, convoke, summon;
can but, can not but.
17. Captious, cavilling, fretful, petulant; anxiety, care, concern,
solicitude; cautious, circumspect, wary; cessation, intermission,
pause, rest, stop; chasten, chastise, punish.
18. Chief, chieftain, commander, leader; choose, elect, prefer;
coerce, compel; comfort, console, solace; commit, consign, intrust.
19. Conceal, disguise, dissemble, hide, secrete; acknowledge,
avow, confess; confute, refute; congratulate, felicitate; conquer,
overcome, subdue, subjugate, vanquish.
20. Consist in, consist of; constant, continual, perpetual; con-
template, intend, meditate; contemptible, despicable, pitiful, paltry;
couvince, persuade.
DICTION— CAMPBELL'S ESSAY. 89
Abstract of Campbell's Essay on Use as the Law
of Language.
Every tongue whatever is founded in use or custom. Language is purely a
species of fashion, in which, by the general but tacit consent of the people of a
particular state or country, certain sounds come to be appropriated to certain
things, and certain ways of inflecting and combining those sounds come to be
established, as denoting the relations which subsist among the things signified.
It is not the business of grammar, as some critics seem preposterously to im-
agine, to give law to the fashions which regulate our speech. On the contrary,
from its conformity to thes'e, and from that alone, grammar derives all its au-
thority and value. For, what is the grammar of any language? It is no other
than a collection of general observations methodically digested, and comprising
all the modes previously and independently established, by which the significa-
tions, derivations, and combinations of words in that language are ascertained.
It is of no consequence here to what causes originally these modes or fashions
owe their existence, to imitation, to reflection, to affectation, or to caprice; they
no sooner obtain, and become general, than they are laws of the language, and
the grammarian's only business is to note, collect, and methodize them. Nor
does this truth concern only those more comprehensive analogies or rules, which
affect whole classes of words ; such as nouns, verbs, and the other parts of speech ;
but it concerns every individual word, in the inflecting or combining of which,
a particular mode has prevailed. Every single anomaly, therefore, though de-
parting from the rule assigned to the other words of the same class, and on that
account called an exception, stands on the same basis, on which the rules of the
tongue are founded, custom having prescribed for it a separate rule. Thus, in
the two verbs call and shall, the second person singular of the former is callest,
agreeably to the general rule; the second person singular of the latter is shalt,
agreeably to a particular rule affecting that verb. To say skallest for shalt, would
be as much a barbarism, though according to the general rule, as to say calt for
callest, which is according to no rule.
Only let us rest in these as fixed principles, that Use, or the custom of speak-
ing, is the sole original standard of conversation, and the custom of writing is
the sole standard of style ; that to the tribunal of use, as to the supreme author-
ity, and consequently, in every grammatical or verbal controversy, the last
resort, we are entitled to appeal from the laws and the decisions of grammarians
and lexicographers ; and that this order of subordination ought never, on any
account, to be reversed.
But if use be here a matter of such consequence, it will be necessary, before
advancing any farther, to ascertain precisely what it is. We shall otherwise be
in danger, though we agree about the name, of differing widely in the notion
that we assign to it.
1. Reputable Use.— In what extent then must the word be understood? It
is sometimes called general use ; yet is it not manifest that the generality of people
speak and write very badly? Nay, is not this a truth that will be even generally
acknowledged ? It will be so ; and this very acknowledgment shows that many
terms and idioms may be common, which, nevertheless, have not the general
sanction, no, nor even the suffrage of those that use them. The use here spoken
of, implies not only currency, but vogue. It is properly reputable custom.
This leads to a distinction between good use and bad use in language, the
former of which will be found to have the approbation of those who have not
8*
90 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
themselves attained it. The far greater part of mankind are, by reason of
poverty and other circumstances, deprived of the advantages of education,
and condemned to toil almost incessantly in some narrow occupation. They
have neither the leisure nor the means of attaining any knowledge, except
what lies within the contracted circle of their several occupations. As the
ideas which occupy their minds are few, the portion of the language known to
them must be very scanty.
But it may be said, and said with truth, that in such subjects as are within
their reach, many words and idioms prevail among uneducated people, which,
notwithstanding a use pretty uniform and extensive, are considered as corrupt,
and like counterfeit money, though common, not valued. This is the case par-
ticularly with those terms and phrases which critics have styled vulgarisms.
Their use is not reputable. On the contrary, we always associate with it such
notions of meanness, as suit the class of men amongst whom chiefly the use
is found.
The currency of such words, therefore, is without authority or weight. The
prattle of children has a currency, but, however universal their manner of
corrupting words may be among themselves, it can never establish what is
accounted use in language. Now, what children are to men, that precisely the
ignorant are to the knowing.
From the practice of those who are conversant in any art, elegant or mechan-
ical, we always take the sense or the terms and phrases belonging to that art.
In like manner, from the practice of those who have had a liberal education,
and are therefore presumed to be best acquainted with men and things, we
judge of the general use in language.
But in what concerns the words themselves, their construction and application,
it is of importance to have some certain, steady, and well-known standard to
recur to, a standard which every one has the opportunity to canvass and
examine. And this can be no other than authors of reputation. Accordingly
we find that these are, by universal consent, in actual possession of this author-
ity; as to this tribunal, when any doubt arises, the appeal is always made.
In the English tongue there is a plentiful supply of noted writings in all the
various kinds of composition, prose and verse, serious and ludicrous, grave and
familiar. Agreeably then to this first qualification of the term, we must under-
stand to be comprehended under general use, whatever modes of speech are author-
ized as good by the writings of a great number, if not the majority, of celebrated
authors.
2. National Use.— Another qualification of the term use which deserves our
attention, is that it must be national.
In every locality there are peculiarities of dialect, which affect not only the
pronunciation and the accent, but even the inflection and the combination of
words, whereby their idiom is distinguished both from that of the nation, and
from that of every other locality. The narrowness of the circle to which the
currency of the words and phrases of such dialects is confined, sufficiently dis-
criminates them from that which is properly styled the language, and which
commands a circulation incomparably wider.
What has been said of local dialects, may, with very little variation, be applied
to professional dialects, or the cant which is sometimes observed to prevail
among those of the same profession or way of life. The currency of the latter
cannot be so exactly circumscribed as that of the former, whose distinction is
purely local ; but their use is not on that account either more extensive or more
reputable. Let the following serve as instances of this kind: Advice, in the
DICTION— CAMPBELL'S ESSAY. 91
commercial idiom, means information or intelligence; nervous, in medical
language, denotes having weak nerves. Such a use surely would not be suffi-
cient to establish the meanings here given to be the ordinary and regular mean-
ings of these words.
No use of a word can be considered as national unless it is found among good
writers of all classes, as well as in all parts of England and America in which
the English language is spoken.
3. Present Use. — But there will naturally arise here another question, Is not
use, even good and national use, in the same country, different in different
periods ? And if so, to the usage of what period shall we 'attach ourselves, as
the proper rule? If you say the present, as it may reasonably be expected that
you will, the difficulty is not entirely removed. In what extent of signification
must we understand the word present? How far may we safely range in quest
of authorities ? or, at what distance backwards from this moment are authors
still to be accounted as possessing a legislative voice in language? To this it is
difficult, to give an answer with all the precision that might be desired. Yet it
is certain, that when we are in search of precedents for any word or idiom, there
are certain bounds beyond which we cannot go with safety.
It is safest for an author to consider those words and idioms as obsolete, which
have been disused by all good authors, for a longer period than the ordinary
age of man extends to. It is not by ancient, but by present use, that our diction
must be regulated. And that use can never be denominated present, which has
been laid aside time immemorial, or, which amounts to the same thing, falls
not within the knowledge or remembrance of any now living.
I have purposely avoided the expressions recent use and modern use, as these
seem to stand in direct opposition to what is ancient. The word present, on the
other hand, has for its proper contrary, not ancient, but obsolete. Besides, though
I have acknowledged language to be a species of mode or fashion, as doubtless it
is, yet being much more permanent than articles of apparel, furniture, and the
like, that, in regard to their form, are under the dominion of that inconstant
power, I have avoided also using the words fashionable and modish, which but
too generally convey the ilea of novelty and levity. Words, therefore, are by
no means to be accounted the worst for being old, if they are not obsolete;
neither is any word the better for being new. On the contrary, some time is
absolutely necessary to constitute that custom or use, on which the establish-
ment of words depends.
If we recur to the standard already assigned, namely, the writings of a
plurality of celebrated authors; there will be no scope for the comprehension
of words and idioms which can be denominated novel and upstart. It must
be owned, that we often meet with such terms and phrases, in newspapers and
other periodicals. But this is not of itself sufficient to give them the stamp of
authority. Such words and phrases are but the insects of a season at the most.
The popular fancy, always fickle, is just as prompt to drop such words, as it was
to take them up ; and not one of a hundred survives the particular occasion
which gave it birth.
CHAPTER III.
SENTENCES.
A Sentence is such an assemblage of words as will make
complete sense.
Sentences are considered under the following heads: 1.
Kinds of Sentences ; 2. Rules for the Construction of Sen-
tences.
I. KINDS OF SENTENCES.
Grammatical Classification.— Sentences, considered grammatically, are
divided into Simple, Compound, and Complex.
Rhetorical Classification. — Sentences, considered rhetori-
cally, are divided into Periodic, Loose, Balanced, Short, and
Long.
1. Periodic Sentences.
A Periodic Sentence is one which is so constructed that it
does not give a complete meaning until the very close. The
main point is kept in suspense until all the subsidiary mem-
bers and clauses are disposed of.
Example from Temple.— The following, from Sir William Temple,
is an example of a periodic sentence.
If you look about you, and consider the lives of others as well as your own ;
if you think how few are born with honor, and how many die without name or
children : how little beauty we see, and how few friends we hear of; how many
diseases, and how much poverty there is in the world ; you will fall down upon
your knees, and, instead of repining at your affliction, will admire so many
blessings which you have received at the hand of God.
Example from Milton. — If the opening lines of Paradise Lost were
to stop at " heavenly Muse," in the sixth line, the sentence Mould
92
SENTENCES— LOOSE. 93
be periodic. Short of these words there is no point where there
would be a completed meaning.
Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, heavenly Muse.
Example Continued.— The author, however, does not stop the sen-
tence here, but goes on for eleven lines farther, adding clause upon
clause, and thought upon thought, until the periodic character of
the sentence disappears altogether. The sentence does not actually
stop until the end of the sixteenth line, although there are before
that several places where a close might be made without incom-
pleteness. Thus :
Sing, heavenly Muse, | that on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed,
In the beginning how the heaven and earth
Rose out of chaos : | or, if Sion hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, |
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above the Aonian mount. | while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.
It is obvious that a completed meaning would have been given,
had the sentence stopped at "chaos," at "song," or at "mount."
2. Loose Sentences.
A Loose Sentence is one which is so constructed that it
may be brought to a close at two or more different places,
and in each case give a completed meaning.
Uses of the Loose Sentence.— A Loose Sentence is not necessarily
faulty. When the sentences are all entirely periodic in structure,
the composition becomes monotonous and stiff. A proper variety
requires, in long pieces especially, that periodic sentences should be
interspersed occasionally with those that are loose in their structure.
Dangers of the Loose Sentence. — The danger with most writers is
that of having too many loose sentences, and of indulging in this
94 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
mode of expression through mere carelessness. The proper man-
agement of the loose sentence, where it is used, requires much care
and skill. Young and inexperienced writers should aim almost uni-
formly to make their sentences periodic.
Difference of Writers in this Kespect. — Writers differ much in the
formation of their sentences in this respect. In modern writings,
the short, rounded period is much more common than it was some
centuries ago. Much of the solemn pomp and majestic stateliness
of Milton's style, whether in prose or verse, is due to the fact that
his sentences are rarely periodic. It would be a mistake, however,
to suppose, on this account, that they are careless or unstudied.
On the contrary, they are thoroughly artistic, and they show as
much studious care as the most highly finished periods of Ma-
caul ay.
The following is an example from Milton:
Then amidst the hymns and hallelujahs of saints, some one may perhaps
be heard offering, at high strains in new and lofty measures, to sing and cele-
brate thy divine mercies, and marvellous judgments in this land throughout
all ages; whereby this great and warlike nation, instructed and inured to the
fervent and continual practice of truth and righteousness, and casting far from
her the rags of her old vices, may press on hard to that high and happy emula-
tion to be found the soberest, wisest, and most Christian people at that day,
when Thou, the eternal and shortly expected King, shalt open the clouds to
judge the several kingdoms of the world, and distributing national honors and
rewards to religious and just commonwealths, shalt put an end to all earthly
tyrannies, proclaiming thy universal and mild monarchy through heaven and
earth; where they, undoubtedly, that by their labors, counsels, and prayers,
have been earnest for the common good of their religion and their country,
shall receive above the inferior orders of the blessed the regal addition of prin-
cipalities, legions, and thrones into their glorious titles, and, in supereminence
of beatific vision, progressing the dateless and irrevoluble circle of eternity,
shall clasp inseparable hands with joy and bliss, in overmeasure forever.
Compare this with the following from Macaulay :
An acre in Middlesex is worth a principality in Utopia. The smallest actual
good is better than the most magnificent promises of impossibilities. The wise
man of the Stoics would, no doubt, be a grander object than a steam-engine.
But there are steam-engines, and the wise man of the Stoics is yet to be born.
A philosophy which should enable a man to feel perfectly happy while in
agonies of pain, may be better than a philosophy which assuages pain. But
we know that there are remedies which will assuage pain ; and we know that
the ancient sages liked the tooth-ache just as little as their neighbors.
The following paragraph from Channing will illustrate the same
point :
SENTENCES— LOOSE. 95
Beauty is an all-pervading presence. It unfolds in the numberless flowers of
the spring. It waves in the branches of the trees and the green blades of grass.
It haunts the depths of the earth and sea, and gleams out in the hues of the
shell and the precious stone. And not only these minute objects, but the ocean,
the mountains, the clouds, the heavens, the stars, the rising and setting sun,
all overflow with beauty. The universe is its temple ; and those men who are
alive to it, cannot lift up their eyes without feeling themselves encompassed
with it on every side.
Recommendation to Beginners. — In a majority of cases, particu-
larly with careless writers, if a sentence is not periodic, it is faulty.
It is well therefore for beginners to make a special study of sen-
tences in reference to this point, and to exercise themselves in re-
constructing loose sentences so as to give them a periodic character.
Example. — Take the following :
We came to our journey's end, | at last, | with no small difficulty, | after much
fatigue, I through deep roads, | and bad weather.
This is a very loose sentence, there being no less than five differ-
ent places, at any one of which the sentence might be terminated,
so as to be grammatically complete. The sentence may be recon-
structed and made periodic, as follows:
At last, after much fatigue, through deep roads, and bad weather, we came,
with no small difficulty, to our journey's end.
Archbishop Trench, justly celebrated for his contributions to our
knowledge of the English tongue, is sometimes exceedingly careless
in the construction of his sentences. The following is taken from
the preface to his " Studies in the Gospels : "
Gathering up lately a portion of what I had written, for publication, I have
given it as careful a revision as my leisure would allow, have indeed in many
parts rewritten it, seeking to profit by the results of the latest criticism, as far as
I have been able to acquaint myself with them.
No one versed in composition can read this sentence without feel-
ing that it is put together very loosely. First, the words " for pub-
lication " are out of place. Standing where they do, they make the
author say that he "had written for publication," which is just the
opposite of what he means. His meaning is that he had written a
good many things, and he now gathers them up for publication. By
transposing these words to their proper place, and by dividing the
passage into two distinct sentences, the whole becomes more clear
to the apprehension of the reader.
96 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Gathering up lately for publication a portion of what I had written, I have
given it as careful a revision as my leisure would allow. I have indeed in many
parts rewritten it, seeking to profit by the results of the latest criticism, as far a£
I have been able to acquaint myself with them.
Another Example from Trench. — The sentence following the one
already quoted is even more faulty in construction. It is as follows :
For my labors I shall be abundantly repaid, if now, when so many controver-
sies are drawing away the Christian student from the rich and quiet pastures of
Scripture to other fields, not perhaps barren, but which can yield no such nour-
ishment as these do, I shall have contributed aught to detain any among tnem.
In attempting to give a periodic form to a loose sentence of this
kind, it is sometimes necessary to reconstruct the sentence entirely.
The best perhaps that can be done, in the present instance, is to
make it read thus :
For my labors I shall be abundantly repaid, if I shall have contributed aught
to detain the Christian student among the rich and quiet pastures of Scripture,
now when so many controversies are drawing him away to other fields, not per-
haps barren, but which can yield no such nourishment as these do.
Examples for Practice.
[The following Loose Sentences are to be reconstructed, so as to become
Periodic]
1. Shaftesbury's strength lay in reasoning and sentiment, more
than in description ; however much his descriptions have been ad-
mired.
2. They aspired to gaze full on the intolerable brightness of the
Deity, instead of catching occasional glimpses of him through an
obscuring veil.
3. They despised all the accomplishments and all the dignities of
the world, confident of the favor of God.
4. Milton always selected for himself the boldest literary services,
that he might shake the foundations of debasing sentiments more
effectually.
5. Milton's nature selected and drew to itself whatever was great
and good from the parliament and from the court, from the con-
venticle and from the cloister, from the gloomy and sepulchral circles
of the Roundheads and from the Christmas revel of the hospitable
Cavalier.
6. She had probably already filled her pitcher, when the stranger
at the well, whom she may have seen only to avoid, for she recog-
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 97
nized in him those unmistakable features of Jewish physiognomy
with which the Samaritans had nothing in common, to her surprise
addressed her.
7. It is certain that his contrivances seldom failed to serve the
purpose for which they were designed, whatever may be thought of
the humanity of some of them.
8. Burke's mind, at once philosophical and poetical, found some-
thing to instruct and to delight, in every part of those huge bales of
Indian information, which repelled almost all other readers.
9. When Hastings was first impeached, if he had at once pleaded
guilty, and paid a fine of fifty thousand pounds,(he would have been
better off, in every thing except character.
10. He would still have had a moderate competence, after all his
losses, if he had practised a strict economy.
11. It is to the citizens, — our object, to assure to our country a
tranquil future, — not as ordering, but as offering patriotic counsel,
we address ourselves: to the end that^as in the humblest dwelling,
the son may succeed the father in peace and quiet on the throne.
12. Some wished to come to the assistance of the defeated general;
others laughed and encouraged her ; and still others, men in blue
blouses and heavy hob-nailed shoes, who were regular customers at
the Green Hat with their wagons and horses, and bore no good-will
to the rope-dancers, because they interfered with their accustomed
comfort, spoke low of "rabble," and "turn them out," a sentiment
which in its turn displeased a few enthusiastic admirers of high
art.
13. Whether she is still wandering about in the desert, like Lady
Stanhope, with a man who had ceased, when Sydney met them, to
exhibit the devotion of a lover, in trained skirts, with the latest pat-
tern gloves and bonnet, with Marie Stuart points, or whether she
sickened of the Orient and came back to Europe, is not known.
14. His habitation Hs some poor thatched roof, distinguished from
his barn by the loop-holes that let out smoke, which the rain had
long since washed through, but for the double ceiling of bacon on
the inside, which has hung there from his grandsire's time, and is
yet to make rashers for posterity.
15. The new philosophy has introduced so great a correspondence
between men of learning and men of business; which has also been
increased by other accidents amongst the masters of other learned
professions ; and that pedantry which formerly was almost universal
9 G
\
98 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
is now in a great measure disused, especially amongst the young
men, who are taught in the universities to laugh at that frequent
citation of scraps of Latin in common discourse, or upon arguments
that do not require it; and that nauseous ostentation of reading and
scholarship in public companies, which formerly was so much in
fashion.
16. An unseen hand sweeps over the keys of the mighty instru-
ment, which, after centuries of study, men are just beginning to
understand, and the listening ear catches the swell of the deep notes
of triumph, while glad notes of rejoicing and bitter sounds of woe
make no discord, called forth by the master-hand.
17. The sides of the crater went sheer down to a great depth,
enclosing a black abyss which, in the first excitement of the scene,
the startled fancy might well imagine extending to the bowels of
the earth, from which there came rolling up vast clouds, dense,
black, sulphurous, which at times completely encircled them, shut-
ting out everything from view, filling eyes, nose, and mouth with
fumes of brimstone, forcing them to hold the tails of their coats
or the skirts (it's all the same thing) over their faces, so as not to
be altogether suffocated, while again after a while a fierce blast of
wind driving downward would hurl the smoke away, and dashing
it against the other side of the crater, gather it up in dense volumes
of blackest smoke in thick clouds which rolled up the flinty cliffs,
and reaching the summit bounded fiercely oat into the sky, to pass
on and be seen from afar as that dread pennant of Vesuvius, which
is the sign and symbol of its mastery over the earth around it and
the inhabitants thereof, ever changing and in all its changes watched
with awe by fearful men who read in those changes their own fate,
now taking heart as they see it more tenuous in its consistency,
anon shuddering as they see it gathering in denser folds, and finally
awe-stricken and all overcome as they see the thick black cloud
rise proudly up to heaven in a long straight column at whose upper
termination the colossal pillar spreads itself out and shows to the
startled gaze the dread symbol of the cyprees-tree the herald of
earthquakes, eruptions, and — The Bodge Club.
3. Balanced Sentences.
A Balanced Sentence is one containing two clauses which
are similar in form and to some extent contrasted in mean-
^yQ^A^^t^yy^^v
SENTENCES— BALANCED. 99
ing. A Balanced Sentence is seldom loose, though not neces-
sarily periodic.
Dr. Johnson abounds in sentences of this kind. The following are
examples :
The style of Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious and uni-
form. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope constrains his mind to
his own rule of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid, Pope
is always smooth, uniform, and level. Dryden's page is a natural field, rising
into inequalities, and diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegeta-
tion ; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe, and levelled by the roller.
Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local man-
ners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive speculation, and
those of Pope by minute attention. There is more dignity in the knowledge of
Dryden, and more certainty in that of Pope.
The man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force on the
plains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins
of Iona.
Junius affords numerous examples :
But, my lord, you may qtiit the field of business, though not the field of danger ;
and, though you cannot be safe, you may cease to be ridiculous.
They are still base enough to encourage the follies of your age, as they once
did the vices of your youth.
Even now they tell you, that as you lived without virtue you should die with-
out repentance.
Pope.— Perhaps no English writer has given more finished speci-
mens of this kind of sentence than Pope, and that both in his
poetry and in his prose.
Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow.
Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil the better artist ; in the one, we most
admire the man ; in the other, the work. Homer hurries us with a commanding
impetuosity ; Virgil leads us with an attractive majesty. Homer scatters with a
generous profusion ; Virgil bestows with a careful magnificence. Homer, like
the Nile, pours out his riches with a sudden overflow ; Virgil, like a river in its
banks, with a constant stream. And when we fook upon their machines, Homer
seems like his own Jupiter, in his terrors, shaking Olympus, scattering the light-
nings, and firing the heavens ; Virgil, like the same power, in his benevolence,
counselling with the gods, laying plans for empires, and ordering his whole
creation.
Various Sources.— The following examples are from various
In peace, children bury their parents ; in war, parents bury their children.
If you wish to enrioh a person, study not to increase his stores, but to diminish
his desires.
100 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Words are the counters of wise men. and the money of fools.
A juggler is a wit in things, and a wit a juggler in words.
When we meet an apparent error in a good author, we are to presume ourselves
ignorant of his understanding, until we are certain that we understand his ig-
norance.
Charity creates much of the misery it relieves, but does not relieve all the
misery it creates.
Not that I loved Csesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
Use of the Balanced Sentence. — The Balanced Sentence
is well suited to satire and epigram, and to essays in which
characters are delineated, or subjects are set off by contrast.
It may often be used also in declamation and oratory. But
it is rarely proper in narrative, or in description.
Hebrew Poetry. — Balanced sentences of a somewhat peculiar kind
are to be found in Hebrew poetry. The sort of construction here
referred to is called Parallelism, and is an invariable characteristic
of Hebrew verse.
A wise son maketh a glad father : but a foolish son is the heaviness of his
mother.
Treasures of wickedness profit nothing: but righteousness delivereth from
death.
The Lord will not suffer the soul of the righteous to famish : but he casteth
away the substance of the wicked.
He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand : but the hand of the dili-
gent maketh rich.
He that gathereth in summer is a wise son : but he that sleepeth in harvest is
a son that causeth shame.
Blessings are upon the head of the just: but violence covereth the mouth of the
wicked.
The memory of the just is blessed : but the name of the wicked shall rot.
The book of Job, the Psalms, Proverbs, Song of Solomon, Eccle-
siastes, a large part of the Prophetical books, and the poetical por-
tions of all the other books, are made up entirely of these paral-
lelisms.
4. Short and Long Sentences.
Short and Long. — The division of sentences into Short and Long
does not require definition. The terms explain themselves. It is
well, however, to notice the rhetorical effect produced by each.
Rhetorical Effect. — A fact or a truth, expressed in several short
detached sentences, is usually more easily understood than when
SENTENCES— SHORT AND LONG. 101
expressed in one long, involved sentence. Short sentences also give
sprightliness and animation to the style. On the other hand, too
great a succession of short sentences becomes monotonous and tire-
some. A long sentence also, if well constructed, gives a fine oppor-
tunity for climax.
French and German Writers. — French writers generally are char-
acterized by their fondness for short sentences, while Germans
are equally remarkable for sentences which are long, involved, and
cumbersome.
Bishop Doane. — Among American writers of note, Bishop Doane
habitually cast his thoughts into the form of brief, epigrammatic
sentences, and not unfrequently carried Ms partiality for this style
of writing to an extreme. The following are examples from his
sermons :
" The church's work is spirit-work. Not to be done amid the heat and noise of
controversy ; not to be done through the polemic rage of pamphlets, and of news-
papers ; not to be done in the Conventions and Councils of the Church. It must
be done in private. It must be done in the closet. It must be done in the sanc-
tuary. It must be done in schools. It must be done in families. It must be
done in parishes. It must be done in the room of sickness. It must be done in
the death chamber."
" Look at the Deacon Stephen. His faithful proclamation of the word offends
the Jews. They cannot combat him with reason or with truth. They hire
false witnesses. They stir the people up. They set him before the Council.
They condemn him falsely. They cast him from the city. They bind, they
strip, they stone him. He stands. He looks to heaven. He prays for them.
He dies."
Rule on the Subject. — In regard to the use of these several
kinds of sentences, Periodic and Loose, Balanced, Short and
Long, the only general rule that can be given is to study
variety.
The ear tires of any one kind of sentences, when long continued.
The style becomes monotonous. It is better even to introduce
occasionally a sentence that by itself would be faulty, than to have
sentences in long succession all formed on the same model, however
excellent that model may be.
Note. The practice of reconstructing sentences, resolving long complex sen-
tences into short ones, and combining short independent sentences into long
connected ones, is a very useful exercise for the student. In making these
changes, a slight change of words is sometimes necessary. It is also necessary
9*
102 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
occasionally to introduce a new word, such as but, and, therefore, however, and
the like. The sentences thus reconstructed are not necessarily improved there-
by. The object of the exercise is to learn how to vary the form of a sentence
and yet express clearly the meaning. Whether in any particular case the form
should be thus changed must be left to the taste and judgment of the writer.
Example. " Few words she uttered ; and they were all expressive of some
inward grief which she cared not to reveal ; but sighs and groans were the
chief vent which she gave to her despondency, and which, though they dis-
covered her sorrows, were never able tc ease or assuage them."
Sentence Reconstructed. Few words she uttered ; and they were all expressive
of some inward grief which she cared not to reveal. Sighs and groans, however,
were the chief vent which she gave to her despondency. These, though they
discovered her sorrows, were never able to ease or assuage them.
Examples for Practice.
[Note. The examples whioh follow are partly long sentences which are to be
resolved into short ones, and partly short sentences which are to be combined
into long ones.]
1. I know that that prayer will be answered. I know that that
love will be shed abroad. I know that it will swell all hearts. I
know that it will kindle every tongue. I know that it will be in
every hand more than a sword of fire.
2. The countess was prevailed on by her husband, the mortal
enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission; and Elizabeth,
who still expected that her favorite would make this last appeal to
her tenderness, and who ascribed the neglect of it to his invincible
obstinacy, was, after much delay and many internal conflicts, pushed
by resentment and policy to sign the warrant for his execution.
[Divide into four sentences.]
3. The wise ministers and brave warriors who flourished under
her reign, | share the praise of her success. (Instead, however, of
lessening the applause due to her, they make great addition to it.
[Combine into one sentence.]
4. As the disposition to criticise, and to be disgusted, is, perhaps,
taken up originally by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into a
habit, which, though at present strong, may nevertheless be cured,
when those who have it are convinced of its bad effects on their fe-
licity ; I hope this little admonition may be of service to them, and
put them on changing a habit, which, though in the exercise it is
chiefly an act of imagination, yet has serious consequences in life,
as it brings on real griefs and misfortunes.
5. The land journey was no longer thought of. The Greeks were
too well known. They had but recently massacred the Latins in
SENTENCES— SHORT AND LONG. 103
Constantinople. Vessels were required for the voyage by sea. The
Venetians were applied to. The traders took advantage of the
necessity of the Crusaders. They would not supply them with
transports under eighty-five thousand marks of silver. They chose
to take a share in the Crusade. In return they stipulated for a
moiety of the conquests.
6. Many a wife sinks into the character of a mere housekeeper.
The husband accepts the arrangemeut. One is not expected to
chat with one's housekeeper. One is not expected to stay in of an
evening to please her. This consideration explains a phenomenon
exhibited in some households.
7. I am satisfied. The ship sails on. We cannot see, but we can
dream. We have no work, no pain. I like the ship. I like the
voyage. I like the company. I am content.
8. The story of the waxen wings that were melted by the sun is
no unmeaning fable, and the continued efforts made to invent a bal-
loon, or other contrivances for aerial navigation, is but an expression
of the great tendency of humanity to reach upward and beyond for
something more than it sees.
9. Antony has done his part. He holds the gorgeous East in fee.
He has avenged Crassus. He will make kings, though he be none.
He is amusing himself, and Rome must bear with him. He has his
griefs as well as Caesar. Let the sword settle their disputes. But
he is no longer the man to leave Cleopatra behind. She sails with
him, and his countrymen proclaim how low he has fallen.
10. The Englishman is taciturn. The Frenchman is vivacious.
The Spaniard is morose. The American is talkative.
11. The time is short. Much remains to be done. Prepare for
action.
12. Novels as a class are injurious to young people. They destroy
the taste for more solid reading. They cultivate the emotions to an
undue extent. They convey false impressions of life.
13. A heavy cannonade was kept up for five consecutive hours.
At last the line was broken. The troops retreated in the best possi-
ble order.
14. Monkeys belong to the order of bimanae, or animals posses-
sing two hands, living generally in trees, and possessing great agility
and strength, although some of them are remarkably small, and none
of them attain to the great size of the elephant, which is, perhaps,
the largest animal extant.
104 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
II. RULES FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF SENTENCES.
RULE I.— CLEARNESS.
The Words should be so arranged that the Meaning cannot be
mistaken.
The Order of the Words Important. — Care in the arrangement of
the words is especially important in a language like the English,
which has so few grammatical terminations. In Latin and Greek,
the relation of a word to the other words of the sentence is known
at once by its form. But in English we have to indicate these rela-
tions by the place in which the word stands.
Example. Were we to say, " The boy the girl sees," there is nothing to show
which noun is the subject and which the object of " sees." If we turn the words
into Latin, leaving them in the same order that they now have, the meaning is
made plain by the termination of the nouns, and is changed at will by a change
of the termination. Puerpuellam videl means " The boy sees the girl." Puerum
puella videl means " The girl sees the boy." What we indicate in Latin by the
form of a word, we are obliged in English to indicate by its position. Hence
it becomes of great importance in English composition to arrange the words in
such a manner that the meaning will be obvious, and cannot be misunderstood.
Let us proceed to some particulars.
1. Position of the Adverbs.
Ambiguity is often produced by the improper position of the ad-
verbs. Care should be taken to place the adverb as near as possible
to the word which it qualifies, and in such a position, either before
or after, that it cannot easily be taken to qualify any other word.
" I ot% bring forward some things."— Dean Afford, Here, " only " is so placed
as to qualify " bring," and raises the query, what else the author proposed to do,
or could do, besides bringing these things forward. What he intended to say,
was that these things were only a part of what he had at his disposal. The
" only " has reference to the " some things," and should be placed as near to those
words as possible. If placed immediately before them, the adverb might be con-
strued with " forward. " I bring the things forward only, not forward and back-
ward, or not up and down. The true order of the words is, " I bring forward
some things only. Plenty more might be said." Here the arrangement prevents
the possibility of mistake.
" By greatness, I do not only mean the bulk of any single object, but the large-
ness of a whole view."— Addison. Here, "only" is so placed as to qualify " mean,"
and might raise the question, What else does he intend to do? In like manner,
if the adverb is placed after "bulk," the question might be asked, If it is the
bulk only that you are speaking about, why net speak also of the color, or the
weight? The proper order is, " By greatness, I do not mean the bulk of any single
SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 105
object only, but the largeness of a whole view.' ' In the sentence as thus arranged,
" only" carries the mind back to the whole phrase " the greatness of a single ob-
ject," and thus brings out perfectly the contrast intended by the author, " the
largeness of a whole view."
For a correct use of the word, see Ezekiel 14 : 16. " Though these three men
[Noah, Daniel, and Job] were in it [the land], as I live, saith the Lord God, they
shall deliver neither sons nor daughters ; they only shall be delivered, but the
land shall be desolate."
" Theism can only be opposed to polytheism, or [to] atheism." — Shaftesbury .
Did the author mean that theism is capable of nothing else, except being opposed
to polytheism, or to atheism? or did he mean that polytheism and atheism are
the only things to which it can be opposed ? If the latter, the correct order would
be : " Theism can be opposed only to polytheism, or [to] atheism." That is, it can
be opposed to these things and to nothing else.
" In all abstract cases where we merely speak of numbers, the verb is better sin-
gular."—Alford. The question might be asked, what if we write of numbers, as
well as speak of them ? But the author evidently intended the " merely " to limit
" numbers ; " and he should have written, " In all cases where we speak of num-
bers merely, the verb is better singular."
" The Romans understood liberty at least as well as we."— Swift. If, in reading
this, we emphasize " liberty," the meaning is, that whatever else we understand
better than the Romans did, liberty, at least, was one thing which they understood
as well as we do. If, on the other hand, we put the emphasis on " we," the mean-
ing is, liberty was understood by them well, as well at least as by us, probably
better. This meaning, which appears to be what the author intended, would
have been expressed without ambiguity by arranging the words thus : " The
Romans understood liberty, as well, at least, as we."
Blair's Remark.— On this part of the subject, Blair makes the fol-
lowing judicious remark :
" In regard to such adverbs as only, wholly, at least, the fact is
that in common discourse, the tone and emphasis we use in pro-
nouncing them generally serves to show their reference, and to
make the meaning clear ; and hence we acquire a habit of throwing
them in loosely in the course of a period. But, in writing, where
a man speaks to the eye, and not to the ear, he ought to be more
accurate ; and so to connect those adverbs with the words which
they qualify, as to put his meaning out of doubt, upon the first in-
spection."
Examples for Practice.
[The student is expected to criticise and correct the following sentences in re-
gard to the position of the adverb.]
1. There are certain miseries in idleness which the idle can only
conceive.
2. The good man not only deserves the respect, but the love of
his fellow-beings.
106 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
3. He is considered generally insane.
4. California not only produces gold in abundance, but quick-
silver also.
5. It was by the English, French, Spanish, and Dutch, that the
New World was principally colonized.
6. If education refined only the manners, we might do without
it ; but it also disciplines the mind and improves the heart.
7. The productions mostly consist of corn and cotton.
8. It was by hunting and fishing that the Indians chiefly sub-
sisted.
9. Cook potatoes with their jackets, as I call them, on.
10. They allowed themselves to be drawn off when only wearied
of their own excesses.
11. It was the advantage gained precisely by the Saxons which
ruined them.
12. One among royal houses alone did not recognize the rights
of women.
13. Port-wine is now only favored by two classes.
14. To contemplate abstract subjects only disciplines the mind,
rarely if ever interesting it.
15. If the genius of the dramatist only can be brought to recog-
nize the great responsibilities of his calling.
16. I never expect to see Europe.
17. I always expect to spend my money as fast as I get it.
18. The light, sandy soil only favors the fern.
19. He was elected, but only was seen twice in the House.
20. I only distribute them among the lower ranks.
21. I only spoke to him. I did not speak to any one else.
22. The French nearly lost five thousand men.
23. He merely accompanied me to the brook. I was obliged to
go the rest of the way by myself.
24. I did not talk to him, but to you.
25. He called to John mildly, pursuing his way calmly and slowly
along the stream.
2. Position of Adverbial Clauses and Adjuncts.
What has been asserted of adverbs, is equally true of what may
be called adverbial clauses and adjuncts. By an adverbial clause
or adjunct is meant a number of words, which, taken together, limit
the meaning of some other word. All such clauses or adjuncts
SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 107
should be so placed that they cannot easily be taken to qualify any
other word than that for which they are intended.
" It contained a warrant for conducting me and my retinue to Traldragdubb,
or Trildrogdrib, for it is pronounced both ways, as near as I can remember, by a
party of ten horse."— Swift. What the author means to say. is that he and his
retinue are to be conducted by a party of ten horse. What he does say, is that
this place with the hard name is pronounced both ways by a party of ten horse.
" The following lines were written by an esteemed friend, who has lain in the
grave for many years, for his own amusement." — Anonymous. The author means
that his friend had written the lines for his own amusement. What he says, is
that his friend has lain in the grave many years for his own amusement !
In the English House of Commons, a speaker once said that a certain witness
had been " ordered to withdraw from the bar in consequence of being intoxi-
cated, by the motion of an honorable member," — as if the witness was intoxi-
cated by the motion ! The speaker meant, that, " in consequence of being in-
toxicated, the witness, by the motion of an honorable member, had been ordered
to withdraw from the bar of the House."
"The beaux of that day used the abominable art of painting their faces, as
well as the women."— D' Israeli. That is, the beaux not only painted their faces,
but painted the women also ! The author meant to say, " The beaux of that day,
as well as the women, used the abominable art of painting their faces."
" I remember when the French band of the ' Guides ' were in this country,
reading in the ' niustrated News.' "—Alford. The author seems to say that these
Frenchmen were reading in the Illustrated News. He means, "I remember
reading in the Illustrated News, when the French band of the ' Guides ' were in
this country."
Examples for Practice.
[The student is expected to criticise and amend the following sentences, in re-
gard to the position of the adverbial adjuncts and clauses.]
1. There is something that whispers of faith, too, in repose.
2. He was born in the old New England town, whose colonial
history is so tragically memorable, on the 4th of July, 1804.
3. I could see that the floor had been swept with half an eye.
4. The enemy attacked us before the day had begun to break at
three o'clock in the morning.
5. He went to town, driving a flock of sheep, on horseback.
6. Wanted, a young woman to take care of two orphan children,
of a religious turn of mind.
7. Dr. Hall will deliver a lecture on the importance of taking ex-
ercise before breakfast at three o'clock in the afternoon.
8. Wanted, a room for a single gentleman, twelve feet long and
six feet wide.
9. Lost, a cow belonging to an old woman, with brass knobs on
her horns.
y
108 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
10. She lived a life of virtue, and died of the cholera morbus,
caused by eating green fruit, in the full hope of a blessed immor-
tality, at the age of twenty-one. Reader, go thou and do like-
wise.
11. The undersigned took up two young mares, four or five years
old, a dark iron-gray, one had a wart on the right side of his head,
eight miles north of Altoona.
12. He merely asks leave to come and play a little solo, on the
bagpipes, of his own composing.
13. A man with one eye named Robert Welch.
14. Lost by a poor lad tied up in a brown paper with a white
string a German flute with an overcoat and several other articles
of wearing apparel.
15. Nature tells me, I am the image of God, as well as Scripture.
16. I lived in a small house which for a pleasant back opening Sir
Matthew Hale had a mind to ; but he caused a stranger, that he
might not be suspected to be the man, to know of me whether I
were willing to part with it before he would meddle with it.
17. The thirty years, from the year 1672 to his death, in which
he acted so great a part, carry in them many amazing steps of a
glorious and distinguishing Providence.
18. Though I can't say I ever actually saw a ghost in my life,
yet I am certain I should know one if I saw him, better than that
comes to.
19. The transition is commonly made with ease from these to the
higher and more important duties of life.
20. Passengers are requested to purchase tickets before entering
the cars at the company's office.
21. The motion of the pendulum is repeated in the vibration of
atoms of ether, not recognizable by the senses.
22. The author's object is to represent for his own pleasure the
things witnessed, in as vivid and correct a manner as possible.
23. I recommend to you to take yourself back, and be talked to
presently, you fool, while there 's time to retreat.
24. When at last we got into town, the people came out to their
doors, all aslant and with streaming hair, making a wonder of the
mail that had come through on such a night.
25. A child was run over by a heavy wagon, four years old, wear-
ing a short pink dress, and bronze boots, whose parents are not yet
found.
SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 109
26. I would like the congregation to be seated, as I wish to say a
few words, before I begin.
27. They laid the three peacefully to rest in the little shaded
church-yard beneath the trees, under whose shadow they had
chatted with those now surviving a thousand times.
28. He by no means despaired of seeing her come out of the
cloud which now covered her with a meek and grateful heart.
29. Banks of sea-weed were piled up around these huts, kept
down from the power of the wind by large stones laid on the top,
to exclude the cold and snow of winter.
30. I cannot think of leaving you without distress.
31. He felt himself more unworthy every day of such a privilege
as life seemed to him to be passed in the intimate society of such a
woman.
32. Unlimited authority was given to the female dominion, for
everything that might be appropriated to their position, and con-
sistent with their known principles of domestic life, in the arrange-
ments for the important event.
33. Among the first arrivals was Mr. Derby, now so loved by
every one, who was to officiate on the occasion.
34. They present an attractive, consistent, and amiable example
in the community, of the things which are pure, lovely, and of good
report.
35. There was a little church mission a few miles from the fort,
in the country, maintained by the English Society.
>f 3. Squinting" Construction.
In connection with these examples it is well to notice what the
French call a "squinting" construction. By this is meant a word,
or a grammatical expression, thrown into the middle of a sentence,
in such a place that it looks both ways, so to speak; that is, it can
be connected in meaning either with what goes before, or with what
follows. This is a very common source of ambiguity.
" When I hear a person use a queer expression, or pronounce a name in read-
ing differently from his neighbors, it always goes down, in my estimate of him,
with a ruinous sign before it."— Alford. Here the words " in reading" look two
ways. They may be construed either with those which precede, or with those
which follow. We may understand the author as saying either " pronounce a
name in reading," or " in reading differently from his neighbors." The proper
arrangement would be : " When I hear a person use a queer expression, or, in
reading, pronounce a name differently from his neighbors," etc.
10
110 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
" Though some of the European rulers may be females, when gpoken of alto-
gether, they may be correctly classified under the denomination ' kings.' "—Atford.
This may be understood to mean that " some of the European rulers may be fe-
males when spoken of altogether." What the author really meant may be ex-
pressed by transposing the words italicized and putting them immediately after
" they may." Thus : " Though some of the European rulers may be females,
they may, when spoken of altogether, be correctly classified under the denomi-
nation ' kings.' "
" Are these designs, which any man, who is born a Briton, in any circumstances,
ought to be ashamed to avow?" The words in italic squint. They may look
back to " born," or forward to " ashamed." This sentence may mean a " man
who in any circumstances is born a Briton," or that he "ought not in any cir-
cumstances to be ashamed." The words should be arranged thus : "Are these
designs, which any man, who is born a Briton, ought in any circumstances to be
ashamed to avow ? "
The Arrangement may be Faulty without being Ambiguous. — In
many instances of faulty arrangement, such as those which have
been quoted, there is perhaps no real ambiguity. The meaning
which the construction suggests is so thoroughly absurd, that we
see at once that the author must have meant something else. The
effect of the bad construction, therefore, is not so much to make the
sentence ambiguous, as to make it obscure. Obscurity, however, is
a fault quite as much as ambiguity.
General Rule. — The writer should never require of the
reader, in order to an understanding of the meaning, any-
greater degree of attention than is absolutely necessary.
The Reason. — Whatever attention we are obliged to give to the
words, in order to take in their meaning, is so much deducted from
the force of the sentiments.
Quintilian's Rule. — "Care should be taken," says Quin-
tilian, "not that the hearer may understand, but that he must
understand, whether he will or not."
Language a Transparent Medium. — Language has been well com-
pared to air, glass, water, or other transparent medium, through
which material objects are viewed. "If," says Campbell, "the
medium through which we look at any object is perfectly trans-
parent, our whole attention is fixed on the object; we are scarcely
Mttftblfi that there is a medium which intervenes, and we can hardly
be said to pwoeife it. Bat if there is gnj flaw in the medium, if
we see through it but dimly, if the object is imperfectly represented,
SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. Ill
or if we know it to be misrepresented, our attention is immediately
taken off the object to the medium. We are then anxious to dis-
cover the cause, either of the dim and confused representation, or
of the misrepresentation, of things which it exhibits, that so the
defect in vision may be supplied by judgment. The case of lan-
guage is precisely similar. A discourse, then, excels in perspicuity
when the subject engrosses the attention of the hearer, and the
language is so little minded by him, that he can scarcely be said to
be conscious it is through this medium he sees into the speaker's
thoughts."
Example. In the following passage from Browning, it is impossible to deter-
mine from the sentence itself, whether it was the " chief" or the "boy" who fell
dead:
" You 're wounded ! " — " Nay," his soldier-pride
Touched to the quick, he said,
"I'm killed, sire," and his chitf beside
•The smiling boy fell dead.
Examples for Practice.
[The student is expected to point out the squinting clause in each of the fol-
lowing sentences, and to reconstruct the sentences so as to make them free from
this fault.]
1. The poor little beggar longed for some fruit, and after search-
ing from one end of the market to the other, for a penny, at length,
bought an apple.
2. Substances which have been innocuous, through the winter
months, become fruitful in insalutary influences.
3. This part of our good fame in the olden time was forfeited by
the negligence of the authorities.
4. Yet we fancy that Franklin, the philosopher, in small things as
well as great, rejoiced in his heart when house-cleaning day came.
5. The wild fellow in Petronius, who escaped upon a broken table
from the furies of a shipwreck, as he was sunning himself upon the
rocky shore, espied a man rolled upon his floating bed of waves.
6. He [Gibbon] incurred the imputation of avarice, while he was,
in fact, exceedingly generous, simply by his ignorance of the pur-
chasing power of money.
7. They arose, to a degree, comforted and tranquil.
8. The wreck of his vessel upon the sand-bar remained, in all
those succeeding years, a monument of his departure in the midst
of the sea.
112 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
9. They came together to good Dr. Bern is, to offer themselves, as
they said, to sign their shipping-papers with the Lord.
10. When the morning came and their breakfast was over, to their
surprise, Mr. Dalton's carriage stood before the door.
11. Any one whom he considered in all things ^subject to his abso-
lute command.
12. Mr. Derby icaught his opportunity, as Colonel Brenton finished
his last appeal, to open to him the whole provision of grace and
forgiveness.
13. "It shames man not to feel man's human fear." —Lord Lyt-
ton's King Arthur.
14. This monument was erected to the memory of John Smith,
who was shot, as a mark of affection by his brother.
15. Tell him, if he is in the parlor, I do not care to see him.
16. Say to him, if he is in the wrong, he should retrace his steps.
4. Use of the Pronouns.
Ambiguity and obscurity are often produced by carelessness in
the use of the Pronouns. "When a man gets to his its" says Cob-
bett, " I tremble for him." The skill with which a writer deals
with the pronouns and other small connecting words is the best
evidence of the extent to which he has attained a mastery of the
art of composition.
Personal Pronouns. — When two or more masculine nouns occur in
the same sentence, the use of " he " often becomes ambiguous. To
avoid this ambiguity, some other form must be given to the expres-
sion, or, instead of using the pronoun, we must repeat the noun.
"The lad cannot leave his father, for if he should leave his father, his father
would die."— Gen. 44 : 22. A less skilful writer would have said, " if he should
leave his father, he would die," leaving it uncertain whether it was the father or
the son that would die,
Hallam, in his Literature of Modern Europe, says, " No one as yet had exhibited
the structure of the human kidneys, Vesalius having examined them only in
dogs," that is, having examined human kidneys in dogs ! Read, " Vesalius hav-
ing examined the kidneys of dogs only."
In a memoir of John Leyden, it is said, * The intellectual qualities of the
youth were superior to those of his raiment," that is, superior to the intellectual
tjiiu/itiiH of his raiment! The writer meant probably that the qualities of the
youth's Intellect were superior to those of his raiment.
l)<-au Alfor.l, in his " I'l.-a for the Queen's Kn^lish," lias this sentence: "Two
other words occur to me which are very commonly mangled by our clergy. One
SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 113
of these [words, or clergy?] is 'covetous,' and its substantive ' covetousness.' I
hope some who read these lines, will be induced to leave off pronouncing them
[lineR, clergy, or words ?] ■ covetious' and ' covetiousness.' I can assure them [lines,
readers, clergy, or words?] that when they [lines, readers, clergy, or words?] do
thus call them [lines, readers, clergy, or words?], one at least of their [?] hearers
has his appreciation of their [?] teaching disturbed." Mr. Moon has shown
mathematically that this sentence is capable of ten thousand two hundred and
forty different meanings !
" Men look with an evil eye upon the good that is in others ; and think that
their [others, or men ?] reputation obscures them f ? ], and their [ ? ] commendable
qualities stand in their [?] light; and therefore they [?], do what they [?] can to
cast a cloud over them [ ? ], that the bright shining of their [ ? ] virtues may not
obscure them [? y'—Tillotson. Here are no less than four words, "men."
" others," " qualities," and " virtues," to any one of which the last " them " may
refer. The other pronouns may refer severally to three or to two words, so that
the sentence becomes a perfect jumble. By changing " others " to the singular,
the pronouns will at once adjust themselves so that the meaning of the author
will be perfectly clear. "Men look with evil eye upon the good that is in
another ; and think that his reputation obscures them, his commendable qualities
stand in their light ; and therefore they do what they can to cast a cloud over
him, that the bright shining of his virtues may not obscure them."
How to Avoid Embarrassment.— A writer who becomes thus em-
barrassed in the use of the pronouns, in consequence of having to
refer back to two different objects, or classes of objects, will almost
always be able to extricate himself from the difficulty by thus
changing the construction so as to make one object or class of
objects singular and the other plural.*
* Burton gives a capital story of Billy Williams, a comic actor, which is a good
illustration of the point now under consideration. Williams is represented as tell-
ing his experience in riding a horse belonging to Hamblin, the manager.
" So down I goes to the stable with Tom Flynn, and told the man to'put the saddle
on him."
"On Tom Flynn?"
" No, on the horse. So, after talking with Tom Flynn awhile, I mounted him."
"What! mounted Tom Flynn?"
" No ! the horse ; and then I shook hands with him and rode off."
"Shook hands with the horse, Billy?"
"No, with Tom Flynn ; and then I rode off up the Bowery, and who should I meet
in front of the Bowery Theatre but Tom Hamblin ; so I got off and told the boy to
hold him by the head."
" What ! hold Hamblin by the head ? "
" No, the horse ; and then we went and had a drink together."
"What! you and the horse?"
" No, me and Hamblin ; and after that I mounted him again, and went out of
town."
"What! mounted Hamblin again?"
" No, the horse ; and when I got to Burnham.who should be there but Tom Flynn,
— he 'd taken another horse and rode out ahead of me; so I told the hostler to tie
him up."
"Tie Tom Flynn up?"
" No, the horse ; and we had a drink there."
" What ! you and the horse ? "
" No, me and Tom Flynn ! "
Finding his auditors by this time in a horse laugh, Billy wound up with —
"Now, look here,— every time I say horse, you say Hamblin, and every time I say
Hamblin, you say horse. I '11 be hanged if I tell you any more about it."
10* H
114 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Relative Pronouns.— The Relative Pronouns are used inaccurately
oftener even than the Personal Pronouns.
" Many," says Swift, " act so directly contrary to this method, that, from a
habit of saving time and paper, which they acquired at the University, they write
in so diminutive a manner, that they can hardly read what they have written."
Swift does not mean that they had acquired time and paper at the University,
but that they had acquired this habit there. The sentence then should have
been : " From a habit which they had acquired at the University, of saving time
and paper, they write in so diminutive a manner."
" Thus I have fairly given you my own opinion, as well as that of a great
majority of both houses here, relating to this weighty affair ; upon which I am
confident you may securely reckon."— Swift. Here, according to the construc-
tion, the person addressed may securely reckon upon this weighty affair. But
as that would make nonsense, we are led to conjecture that the author meant his
friend to reckon upon a majority of both houses. If so, the sentence should read :
" Thus I have fairly given you my own opinion relating to this weighty affair,
as well as that of a great majority of both houses here; upon which I am con-
fident you may securely reckon."
" We nowhere meet with a more glorious and pleasing show in nature, than
what appears in the heavens at the rising and setting of the sun, which [sun, ris-
ing and setting, or show?] is wholly made up of those different stains of light,
that show themselves in clouds of a different situation." — Addison. This sen-
tence is not perhaps absolutely ambiguous^ for after some study we find that the
" which " must relate to " show." But the meaning is at least made obscure by
the wide separation of the relative from its antecedent, and by the introduction
of other nouns between the relative and its antecedent. This obscurity might
have been avoided, and the meaning rendered entirely perspicuous by arranging
the words thus : " We nowhere meet with a more glorious and pleasing show in
nature, than that which appears in the heavens at the rising and setting of the
sun, and which is wholly made up of those different stains of light," etc. Here
the second " which " is connected by the conjunction with the first " which," and
both refer back directly to "show," and cannot refer to anything else.
" It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves against the accidents of life, by heaping
up treasures which nothing can protect us against, but the good providence of our
Heavenly Father."— Sherlock. That is. nothing can protect us against treasures!
The author meant : " It is folly to pretend, by heaping up treasures, to arm our-
selves against the accidents of life, which nothing can protect us against, but the
good providence of our Heavenly Father."
Examples for Practice.
(The student is expected to criticise and amend the following sentences, in ref-
erence to the improper use of the pronouns.]
1. Holland, a country wholly rescued from the sea, which pos-
sesses very little natural advantages, lias boon converted into one
vast garden by the industry of its inhabitants,
2. Mr. French needs a surgeon, who has broken his arm.
8. The figs were in small wooden boxes, which we ate.
SENTENCES— CLEARNESS. 115
4. He needs no spectacles, that cannot see ; nor boots, that cannot
walk.
5. He must endure the follies of others, who will have their kind-
ness.
6. Found, a white-handled knife, by a child, that has a broken
back.
7. To rent, a house containing ten rooms, located in a pleasant
village, which has a fine bay-window in front.
8. John at last found the key, locked the door, and went off, put-
ting it in his pocket.
9. The farmer went to his neighbor and told him that his cattle
^T-were in his fields.
~\~ 10. Robert promised his father that he would pay his debts.
11. They were persons of very moderate intellects even before
they were impaired by their passions.
12. I shall be happy if I can contribute to your and my country's
glory.
13. Mrs. Jones said to her daughter that perhaps she might go to
the city for the zephyr she needed to finish the cushion for her sis-
"' ter's Christmas present. ,
14. There is a lane <at the end of the town, where the young vicar
Y~ from his study can see the young ladies passing on their way to the
cottage of their pensioner, which is muddy and affords an excuse
for joining them as they come back.
15. He is like a beast of prey, that is void of compassion.
16. His son, a youth of thirteen, was permitted to stay in prison
with his father, who beholding his only surviving parent loaded with
irons was overwhelmed with grief.
17. The captain of the ship swam ashore, and so did the cook.
She was insured for fifteen thousand dollars, and was heavily loaded
with iron.
18. During the procession, a child was run over, wearing a short
red dress, which never spoke afterwards.
19. The mad dog bit a horse on the leg, which has since died.
, 20. When the travellers complained of the ferocity of his dogs, he
said they were ill-bred curs.
21. Mary asked her mother if she might go with her, as she was
-r sure she was going to buy something for her.
22. Life with him has ended in a sad mistake which began with
such bright prospects.
IIS COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
23. Did you take that book to the library, which I loaned you?
24. The day has come of great rejoicing to many glad hearts which
we have looked for so long.
25. The body was dragged ashore, and she identified the remains,
which were much decomposed, by the clothing.
y{ 26. Mr. Greeley denied that he had e*er used profane language in an
interview which a certain newspaper reporter had put into his mouth.
27. When Abraham sat at his tent-door, according to his custom,
waiting to entertain strangers, lie espied an old man stooping and
leaning on his staff, weary with age and travel, coming toward him,
who was a hundred years of age.
28. There is a touching tenderness in a mother's tears, when they
fall upon the face of her dying babe, which no eye can behold with-
out emotion.
29. That is a better statement of the case than yours.
30. The teacher should be careful to find no fault with the super-
intendent in the hearing of the class, as this would weaken his in-
A fluence.
31. In memory of the Rev. Gilbert Tennent, the first pastor of
this church, whose evangelical labors were abundantly blessed in
y the ingathering of souls.
32. Every passenger is obliged to show their ticket before enter-
ing the car.
v 33. Gloried in the perfect independence of his control.
34. Dr. Bemis was the rector of the one Episcopal church in that
' town, to which this family had always belonged.
35. I don't think you can do good to anybody, if you set out with
telling them how worthless and bad they are.
36. With her beloved daughter she kept up the most intimate fel-
lowship of feeling and conversation, though she tried to hide from
her all knowledge of her father's intense cruelty to her.
37. A refrigerator-car is running on the New Jersey railroad for
bringing fresh meat from Chicago.
38. Mr. Smith uttered no sentiment that might not have been
uttered on the Sabbath, with strict propriety, or even in a place of
worship.
39. Intemperance is the great moral evil at which it is aimed, by
the concession of all mankind.
40. Mary asked her sister if she would bring her work-basket
along, as she wished to make something for her mother.
X
SENTENCES— EMPHASIS. 117
41. Mr. Jones has just received a letter from Mr. Smith, saying «f—
that he is expected to deliver the next annual address.
Summary of Rule 1. — The examples which have now been cited
and commented on are sufficient to explain and enforce the first Rule
for the construction of the sentence, namely, that the words should
be so arranged that the meaning cannot be mistaken.
Three Things to he Observed. — In carrying out this Rule, we must,
in particular, see —
1. That every adverb and adverbial clause is made to adhere
closely to the word which it is intended to qualify ;
2. That where a circumstance is thrown in, it shall not hang
loosely in the midst of a period, but be so placed as by its position
to show clearly to which member of the sentence it belongs ; and
3. That every pronoun shall be so placed as to suggest instantly
to the mind of the reader the noun referred to.
/ RULE II.— EMPHASIS.
The Words should be so arranged as to give a conspicuous
position to the two Main Parts of the Sentence, namely, the
Principal Subject and the Principal Predicate.
Two Things of Prime Importance. — It is of prime im-
portance to the reader or the hearer to know clearly and
without effort, first, what the principal subject of discourse
in the sentence is, and secondly, what is the principal thing
intended to be said of that subject. All the other parts of
the sentence are subsidiary to these two, and should be so
arranged that these should strike at once both the eye and
the ear.
1. The Principal Subject.
The Principal Subject is that about which mainly the writer in-
tends to say something. The Principal Subject, as the term is here
used, is not necessarily the Grammatical Subject.
" Nature, with most beneficent intention, conciliates and forms the mind of
man to his condition." The context to this sentence shows that the author
wished to say something, not about Nature, but about the mind of man. The
"mind of man," therefore, is really the principal subject of discourse, though
grammatically it is the object of the verbs u conciliates " and " forms/' 4 differ-
118 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
ent construction of the sentence will show this. " The mind of man is, by
Nature's beneficent intention, conciliated and formed to his condition."
" The praise of judgment Virgil has justly contested with him [Homer], but his
invention remains unrivalled."— Pope. Here the two qualities about which Pope
wishes to make an assertion are judgment and invention. These then are the real
subjects, though "judgment," in the first member of the sentence, is grammati-
cally in the objective case.
Ordinarily, however, the grammatical subject and the principal
subject are the same.
Examples are found in the following sentences:
" Learning taketh away the wildness, barbarism, and fierceness of men's
minds."
" The pleasures of the imagination, taken in their full extent, are not so gross as
those of sense, nor so refined as those of the understanding."
'Our sight is the most perfect and the most delightful of all our senses."
Rule. — The Principal Subject, whether grammatically in
the nominative or in the objective case, should have a con-
spicuous position in the sentence, and especially should stand
clear and disentangled from other words that might clog it.
Most commonly and naturally the place for this subject is at the
beginning of the sentence, as in the three sentences last quoted.
But there may be cases in which the sense is rendered more
striking by putting the subject at the end.
Example of Inversion.—" On whatever side we contemplate Homer,
what principally strikes us is his wonderful invention." — Pope. The
genius of our language does not greatly facilitate this kind of in-
version. Still it may be practised occasionally, and sometimes with
striking effect, as in the example just quoted.
Inversion Produced by There and It.— The word "there," used as
a mere expletive, is one of the contrivances we have for producing
this inversion. "There was a man sent of God, whose name was
John." "It" is used indefinitely for a similar purpose. "It was
Brutus that gave the fatal blow."
An Example.—" The state was made, under pretence of serving it, in reality
the prize of their contention, to each of these opposite parties, who professed in
specious terms, the one a preference for moderate aristocracy, the other a desire
of admitting the people at large to an equality of civil privileges." Here, the
author moans to make an assertion about the conduct of the "opposite parties."
Yet those words, constituting the real subject, arc so placed near the centre of
tin lentenee, and ao entangled and mixed up with other words, that the mean-
SENTENCES— EMPHASIS. 119
ing is obscured. The sentence, therefore, should be remodelled, so as to give the
subject a conspicuous position. This is done by Whately, as follows : •' The two
opposite parties, who professed in specious terms, the one a preference for moder-
ate aristocracy, the other a desire of admitting the people at large to an equality
of civil privileges, made the state, which they pretended to serve, in reality the
prize of their contention." Here the true subject is at once brought before the
mind of the reader, and the main assertion becomes clear and distinct, notwith-
standing the numerous subsidiary ideas that are connected with it. The sen-
tence, even in its amended form, is open to criticism, the words " in reality,"
towards the close, being capable of a squinting construction.
" It is not without a degree of patient attention, greater than the generality
are willing to bestow, though not greater than the object deserves, that the habit
can be acquired of examining and judging of our own conduct with the same
accuracy and impartiality as that of another." Here again the meaning is ob-
scured by the entanglement into which the principal subject is placed. By
recasting the sentence, so as to place this subject at the beginning, the whole
meaning is cleared up. " The habit of examining and judging of our own con-
duct with the same impartiality as that of another, cannot be acquired without
a degree of patient attention, not greater indeed than the object deserves, but
greater than the generality are willing to bestow."
Disposal of Subsidiary Matter.— In order to give the principal
subject a conspicuous position, it is not always necessary to place
it either at the beginning or at the end of the sentence. Some-
times the subsidiary matter, or a portion of it, may be disposed of
first, and then the subject come in with good effect.
The Participial Construction.— This is especially the case in what
is called the Participial Construction.
The effect of the participial construction is to keep the mind in suspense. We
know that the subject has not yet been announced, and therefore are just as ready
for it when it does come, as if it had been given at once. The advantage in this
construction is that a multiplicity of cumbersome but necessary details may be
disposed of, leaving us thus much freer to proceed from the main subject to the
main predicate.
Example.— "Accustomed to a land at home where every height, seen dimly in
the distance, might prove a cathedral tower, a church spire, a pilgrim's oratory,
or at least a wayside cross, these religious explorers must often have strained their
sight in order to recognize some object of a similar character."
Qualifying Clauses and Adjuncts.— Clauses and adjuncts which mani-
festly qualify the main subject may in like manner sometimes come
in before it, without affecting its prominence.
" In the vacant space between Persia, Syria, Egypt, and Ethiopia, the Arabian
Peninsula may be conceived as a triangle of spacious but irregular dimensions."
Here the words " In the vacant space between Persia, Syria, Egypt, and Ethio-
pia," are an adjunct of " the Arabian Peninsula." They tell where that Peninsula
is, and suggest thereby the reason why it may be conceived as being a triangle.
120 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
2. The Principal Predicate.
The remarks which have been made in regard to the principal
subject of the sentence will apply with little change to the prin-
cipal predicate. The natural and common place for the predicate
is at or near the end of a sentence, as that for the subject is at
or near the beginning. But circumstances may make an entirely
different arrangement preferable. The assertion that "peacemakers
are blessed," is rendered more emphatic by transposing the sen-
'tence, and giving the predicate first; as, "Blessed are the peace-
makers." How much another passage of Scripture would be
enfeebled, were we to say, "Diana of the Ephesians is great,"
instead of saying, M Great is Diana of the Ephesians."
Place for the Principal Predicate. — No definite rule can
be given, prescribing when the predicate should be placed
at the beginning, when it should be placed at the end, or
when elsewhere. It requires, in each case, the exercise of
taste and judgment, the writer ever bearing in mind which
words constitute the leading subject and predicate, and so
arranging the subordinate matter as to make these words
prominent.
Connection with Elocution. — The words constituting the principal
predicate are the ones which the elocutionist selects for his empha-
sis. Careless writers sometimes content themselves with marking
these emphatic words by italics. But this is a weak device. The
sentence ought, if possible, to be so arranged, that the words which
the sense requires to be emphatic shall be just those which the voice
of a good reader will most naturally and easily select for emphasis.
Absence of Italics no Proof of Good Construction. — Some writers,
having been taught that the frequent use of italics is a fault, fancy
that they avoid the fault by merely omitting to use italics, instead
of so constructing their sentences that italics will not be needed.
This, as Whately justly observes, is like attempting to remedy the
intricacies of a road by removing the guide-posts ! The proper
remedy is to straighten the road. In the same way, writers who
introduce long and perplexing parentheses try to avoid censure by
using commas instead of the usual marks of parenthesis, as if it
my help to a lame man to take away his crutches.
SENTENCES— EMPHASIS. 121
Examples.—'1 He that tells a lie is not sensible how great a task he under-
takes; for he must be forced to invent twenty more, to maintain one." Here, in
the latter branch of the sentence, the principal assertion clearly is the necessity
of inventing twenty more, but it would be difficult to read the passage so as to
make this the prominent idea. Arrange the words thus : " For, to maintain one
lie. he must invent twenty more," and it will be difficult to read the passage with-
out making these words emphatic.
" That our elder writers, to Jeremy Taylor inclusive, quoted to excess, it would
be the blindness of partiality to deny." Here the main assertion, in regard to
the elder writers, is their habit of excessive quotation. But it would be difficult
to read it so as clearly to bring out this meaning. Arrange it thus : " It would
be the blindness of partiality to deny, that our elder writers, to Jeremy Taylor
inclusive, quoted to excess." Now the principal predicate is so placed that it
would be difficult for a reader not to make it emphatic.
" Every attempt to dispense with axioms has proved unsuccessful ; somewhere
or other in the process, assumed theorems have been found." In the latter
branch of the sentence, the most important word is " assumed." This is clearly
the emphatic word, and the emphasis which ought to be placed on it can be
given more easily, if this word is put either at the beginning, or at the end, of
the clause, thus : "Assumed theorems have been found somewhere or other in
the process," or, " Somewhere or other in the process there have been found
theorems which are assumed."
The Principal Words not to be Entangled. — On this subject, Blair
makes the following remarks : " In whatever part of the sentence
we dispose of the capital words, it is always a point of great mo-
ment, that these capital words shall stand clear and disentangled
from any other words that would clog them. Thus, when there
are any circumstances of time, place, or other limitations, which the
principal object of the sentence requires to have connected with it,
we must take especial care to dispose of them, so as not to cloud
that principal object, nor to bring it under a load of circumstances."
Example from Shaftesbury,— Comparing modern poets with the ancient,
Shaftesbury says : "If, while they profess only to please, they secretly advise,
and give instruction, they may now, perhaps, as well as formerly, be esteemed,
with justice, the best and most honorable among authors." This sentence con-
tains a great many circumstances and adverbs, necessary to qualify the mean-
ing; only, secretly, as well, perhaps, now, with justice, formerly ; yet these are placed
with so much art, as neither to embarrass nor weaken the sentence ; while that
which is the capital object in it, namely, " Poets being justly esteemed the best
and most honorable among authors." comes out in the conclusion clear and de-
tached, and possesses its proper place. See what would have been the effect of
a different arrangement. " If, whilst they profess to please only, they advise
and give instruction secretly, they may be esteemed the best and most honorable
among authors, with justice, perhaps, now as well as formerly."
Summary of Rules I. and II. — The two rules or principles which
thus far have been discussed should govern us in the construction
11
122 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
of every sentence. As the first of these rules has for its object to
secure Perspicuity, so the second has for its object to secure the
proper Emphasis. The former makes the meaning clear, the latter
makes it forcible. The two qualities here described lie at the foun-
dation of all good writing. The very first thing which a writer must
do is so to arrange his words as, first to make his meaning plain,
and secondly to give his meaning all the force of which it is capable.
This last point is secured in any given sentence by attending chiefly
to the position of the principal subject and of the principal predi-
cate, and by so placing these important words that in reading we
shall naturally and easily make them emphatic.
Examples for Practice.
[The following sentences are to be reconstructed, so as to give a more conspicu-
ous position either to the principal subject, or to the principal predicate.]
1. We put out the lights, and hasten to our own more secluded
fireside, glad that the world is at least shut out from here.
2. No matter in what season we view nature, we are always
struck with her unity of design.
3. When Carrini discovered that the earth travels in a much
wider orbit than Tycho Brahe had supposed, the new theory had
become so firmly established, that while it was proved that the stars
were many hundreds of millions of miles farther from us, astrono-
mers still held to the new order of things.
4. When his genius had once warmed itself in this way, it would
seem that it had attained the healthiness natural to its best condi-
tions, and could have gone on forever, increasing, both in enjoy-
ment and in power, (h.ad external circumstances been favorable.
5. These, we may observe, commonly content themselves with
words which have no distinct ideas to them, though in other mat-
ters, that they come with an unbiassed indifferency to, they want
not abilities to talk and hear reason, where they have no secret
inclination that hinders them from being intractable to it.
G. To subject passengers arriving from foreign ports to unneces-
sary inconvenience (is vety undesirable, while it is very necessary to
take proper measures to prevent smuggling.
7. His is a mind that/in discerning and reflecting whatever odd
or amusing things occur in the Ufe around him, occupies itself pre-
eminently.
SENTENCES— UNITY. 123
8. Surely no effort can be made which will not be fully compen-
sated by (the possession of a power, which will transform the
dreamer into a benefactor.
9. Nevertheless, that the empire has provinces which blend some-
thing of foreign genius with their national character, pn her every
frontier) is^of the greatness of France (one of the elements.
10. As a method for putting children to sleep, claiming that it is
far preferable to the remedies ordinarily employed, especially those
which contain opium — a substance whose use for this purpose can
scarcely be too strongly reprehended — certain French physicians
recommend the use of bromide of potassium.
11. In addition, on a slip of paper (and, by means of an auto-
graph apparatus, any number of copies of this list can be produced
with great rapidity) the instrument records the name of each mem-
ber and how he voted.
12. Two men were killed last evening on the Camden and Amboy
Railroad, near the Fish-House Station, who were walking on the
track, and were stepping off to get out of the way of one train
while another was coming up in another direction and struck them.
13. The Paterson people think that it is the Associated Press tele-
grams from that city that it has no police force that is bringing them
so many burglars and robbers from the large cities. x
RULE HI. -UNITY.
A Sentence should be so constructed as to maintain Unity of
Thought.
Numerous Details. — This Unity is not incompatible with
including in the sentence a great number and variety of par-
ticulars. A sentence may contain a dozen different thoughts
or ideas, and yet these may all be so subordinated to the
one governing idea, which forms the basis of the sentence,
that the impression on the mind is that of one undivided
whole.
Illustration from House-building. — If we see, lying loosely in a
field, heaps of sand, brick, and lime, piles of beams, boards, stones,
and iron, all scattered about miscellaneously here and there, we
have a picture of many of the sentences, so called, that we find in
124 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
authors. When again those scattered materials have been brought
into harmonious and orderly arrangement, under the hand of the
Architect and builder, — when they stand before us, not a confused
medley of rubbish, but a compacted and commodious house for the
dwelling of man, in which every particle of sand and lime, every
brick and stone, every piece of wood and iron has its place, and
serves one general design, — we have a picture of the perfect Period,
as it comes from the hand of the master-builder.
Danger in Long Periods. — It requires special skill on the part of
a writer to complete one of these complex sentences, without some
sacrifice of unity. It is also a hazardous experiment upon the
patience of the reader, to expect him to follow out such a sentence
to its completion, without some flagging of the attention. A writer
who deals much in these long, complex sentences, is apt to become
heavy, however faultless may be his periods. Often such sentences
may be resolved into two or three independent sentences, greatly to
the relief of the reader.
u The ladders were now applied, and mounted by several men, which the
monkey observing, and finding himself almost encompassed, and not being able
to make speed enough with his three legs, let me drop on a ridge tile, and made
his escape."— Swift. Change into two sentences, thus : " The ladders were now
applied, and [they werel mounted by several men. The monkey, observing this,
and finding himself almost encompassed, and not being able to make speed
enough with his three legs, let me drop on a ridge tile, and made his escape."
Macaulay's Periods. — No one ever understood the management of
sentences better than Macaulay. His longest and most complex sen-
tences are thoroughly periodic, observing strictly the laws of unity,
and they are always relieved by a succession of brief sentences, each
usually containing a single, independent assertion. Take the follow-
ing example, from his description of the trial of Warren Hastings :
The place was worthy of such a trial. It was the great hall of William Rufus ;
the hall which had resounded with the inauguration of thirty kings; the hall
whit h had witnessed the just sentence of Bacon and the just absolution of
Somers ; the hall where the eloquence of Strafford had for a moment awed and
melted a victorious party inflamed with just resentment; the hall where Charles
had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage which has
half redeemed his fame. Neither military nor civil pomp was wunting. The
avenues were lined with grenadiers. The streets were kept clear by cavalry.
The peers, robed in gold and ermine, were marshalled l>y the bfldi under
Garter-King-at-Arms. The judges, in their vestments of state, attended to give
advice on points of law.
SENTENCES— UNITY. 125
Some of the subordinate rules to be observed in maintain-
ing the unity of a sentence are the following : *
1. Change of Subject.
During the course of the sentence, let the subject be changed
as little as possible.
There is usually, in every sentence, some one person or thing
which is the object of general interest. Everything else moves
round this, as the centre of the thought. If, in the construction
of the sentence, this person or thing becomes the grammatical sub-
ject of the several verbs, if it is also that to which the several
adjectives or particles apply, the unity of the sentence is at once
secured.
" After we came to anchor, they put me on shore, where I was welcomed by all
my friends, who received me with the greatest kindness." Here are four verbs,
each with a different subject, " we," " they," " I," " who." The mind is hurried
from one subject and scene to another, until the thoughts are a perfect chaos.
Yet if we stop to analyze the passage, we find a sufficient bond of connection
among the several ideas. The connecting link is the person of the narrator.
Rearranging the sentence on this basis, we have the following: " Having come
to an anchor, /was put on shore, where /was welcomed by all my friends, and
received with the greatest kindness."
" The highly raised expectation of the audience was more than satisfied with
the exuberance of his thought and the splendor of his diction, while the char-
acter and institutions of the natives of India were described by him ; the circum-
stances in which the Asiatic empire of Britain had originated, were recounted ;
and the constitution of the Company and of the English Presidencies was set
forth." Here are four separate subjects, carrying the mind successively to four
different points of view, and thus effectually destroying all unity of thought.
The real centre of interest in the sentence is " he," Burke, the orator. See how
everything crystallizes around this central idea of the passage, as it comes from
the pen of Macaulay : " With an exuberance of thought and a splendor of dic-
tion which more than satisfied the highly raised expectations of the audience,
he described the character and institutions of the natives of India; recounted
the circumstances in which the Asiatic empire of Britain had originated ; and
set forth the constitution of the Company and of the Presidencies."
2. Crowding Together Things Unconnected.
Do not crowd into one sentence things which have so little
connection that they can just as well be divided into two or
more sentences.
♦Blair, Lecture XI.
11*
126 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
" He [Tillotson] was exceedingly beloved both by King William and Queen
Mary wtio nominated Dr. Tennison, Bishop of London, to succeed /u'm." Here
the thought in the latter clause has no natural connection with that in the
former, and the two should not be connected grammatically. If the latter
clause contained some reason why the deceased Archbishop had been so
beloved by the King and Queen, as, for example, " who had known him inti-
mately many years," or, if it contained some circumstance showing the extent
of their grief, as, "who ordered a monument to his memory to be erected in
Westminster Abbey," the addition of the clause would be excusable. As it is,
the two clauses contain two independent assertions, which are connected gram-
matically, though unconnected in thought. We might as well say, " The flood
carried away the wire bridge built by Mr. Roebling, who lives in the city of
Trenton."
"To this succeeded that licentiousness which entered with the Restoration,
and from infecting our religion and morals, fell to corrupt our language ; which
last was not likely to be much improved by those who at that time made up the
court of King Charles the Second ; either such as had followed him in his ban-
ishment, or had been altogether conversant in the dialect of these fanatic times ;
or young men who had been educated in the same country ; so that the court,
which used to be the standard of correctness and propriety of speech, was then,
and I think has ever since continued, the worst school in England for that ac-
complishment ; and so will remain, till better care be taken in the education
of our nobility, that they may be set out in the world with some foundation of
literature, in order to qualify them for patterns of politeness."— Swift.
The faults of this sentence are manifold, besides its utter want of
unity. The only way thoroughly to remedy these faults would be
to rewrite the sentence, preserving the thoughts, but paying no
regard to the present construction. The passage may be to some
extent improved by breaking it up into five or six sentences, with a
few slight verbal changes, thus :
" To this succeeded that licentiousness, which entered with the Restoration,
and [which], from infecting our religion and morals, fell to corrupting] our
language. This last was not likely to be much improved by those who at that
time made up the court of King Charles the Second. [These were] either such
as had followed him in his banishment, or such as had been altogether con-
versant in the dialect of these fanatic times ; or [they were] young men who
had been educated in the same country [with him]. Consequently the court,
which used to be the standard of correctness and propriety of speech, was then,
as I think [it] has ever since continued [to be], the worst school in England
for that accomplishment. So will it remain, till better care be taken in the
education of our nobility, that they be set out in the world with some foun-
dation in literature, in order to qualify them for patterns of politeness."
3. Relative Clauses.
Do not complicate a sentence by hanging a relative clause
upon another relative clause which is itself in a dependent
condition.
SENTENCES— UNITY. 127
What is not Forbidden.— This rule does not forbid two or more
relative clauses having a common dependence upon some preceding
word or clause, as, for example, in one of the sentences just given :
"To this succeeded that licentiousness, which entered with the
Restoration, and which, from infecting our religion and morals, fell
to infecting our language." The two clauses here, beginning with
"which," have a common dependence upon "licentiousness." The
construction therefore is allowable.
" Cicero was opposed by a new and cruel affliction, the death of his beloved
daughter Tullia ; which happened soon after her divorce from Dolabella ; whose
manners and humors were entirely disagreeable to him." Here the third clause,
beginning with " whose," is dependent upon the second, beginning with " which,"
and that in turn is dependent upon the first or principal clause. There is indeed
a connection running through the whole, but it is the connection of links in a
chain, rather than that of independent links hanging separately upon some
common support ; and this hanging of one relative clause upon another which
is itself dependent is highly objectionable.
" The march [of the Greeks] was through an uncultivated country, whose savage
inhabitants fared hardly, having no other riches than a breed of lean sheep,
whose flesh was rank and unsavory, by reason of their continual feeding upon
sea-fish." Here the second relative clause is directly dependent upon the first,
as the first is upon the main affirmation of the sentence. The construction
therefore is in violation of the rule. The second " whose " refers to " sheep," the
first to " country." They marched through a country whose inhabitants ate flesh
which was bad. The essence of the fault here consists, not In there being no con-
nection in the things mentioned, but in this repetition of the " which " without
a common antecedent. The sentence thereby becomes involved and its unity
impaired. The passage may be greatly improved by a slight alteration, dividing
it into two sentences. Thus : " The march of the Greeks was through an uncul-
tivated country. Its savage inhabitants fared hardly, having no other riches
than a breed of lean sheep, whose flesh was rank and unsavory by reason of
their continual feeding upon sea-fish."
4. Parentheses.
Keep clear of parentheses.
Blair's Opinion of Parentheses. — " On some occasions, parentheses
may have a spirited appearance, as prompted by a certain vivacity
of thought, which can glance happily aside, as it is going along.
But, for the most part, their effect is extremely bad ; being a sort
of wheels within wheels ; sentences in the midst of sentences ; the
perplexed method of disposing of some thought, which a writer
wants art to introduce in its proper place."
Danger in Using Parentheses. — Writers who indulge much in the
use of parentheses are apt to be led on from one thing to another,
128 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
until the starting-point of the sentence is entirely lost sight of, and
it has to be recalled to the reader's attention by " I say," or some
such awkward formula of repetition. The use of this clumsy device
is a sure sign of a badly constructed sentence. It is an open admis-
sion on the part of the writer, that his sentence has become involved,
and that he lacks either the skill or the industry to make its construc-
tion better.
5. Supplementary Clauses.
Do not tack on an additional or supplementary clause, after
the sentence has been apparently brought to a close.
"With these writings [Cicero's], young divines are more conversant than with
those of Demosthenes, who, by many degrees, excelled the other ; at least as an
orator." Any one reading this sentence feels, on coming to " other," as if the
sense was completed, and the voice at this place naturally comes to a halt. The
whole structure of what goes before creates the expectation of a pause here. The
proposition is concluded: we look for no more. The added words, therefore,
come in with a very bad grace. How much better the sentence would have
been, if constructed thus : " With these writings [Cicero's], young divines are
more conversant than with those of Demosthenes, who, as an orator at least,
excelled, by many degrees, the other."
" The first [writer] could not end his learned treatise without a panegyric of
modern learning, in comparison of the ancient ; and the other falls so grossly
into the censure of the old poetry, and preference of the new, that I could not
read either of these strains without some indignation ; which no quality among
men is so apt to raise in me as self-sufficiency." Here " indignation " concludes the
sentence. The added clause is a new and independent proposition, and ought
to make a separate sentence.
Blair on Supplementary Clauses. — " An unfinished sentence is no
sentence at all. But very often we meet with sentences that are,
so to speak, more than finished. When we have arrived at what we
expected was to be the conclusion ; when we have come to the word
on which the mind is naturally led, by what went before, to rest ;
unexpectedly, some circumstance pops out, which ought, [either] to
have been omitted, or to have been disposed of elsewhere ; but which
is left lagging behind, like a tail adjusted to the sentence. All these
adjections to the proper close disfigure a sentence extremely. They
give it a lame, ungraceful aim, and, in particular, they break its
unity." — Blair.
Examples for Practice.
[Sentences to be corrected in reference to Unity, under some of the heads
which have been discussed.]
1. They asserted not only the future immortality, but the past
SENTENCES—UNITY. 129
eternity of the human soul, which they were too apt to consider as
a portion of the infinite and self-existing spirit which pervades and
sustains the universe.
2. "These things regulate themselves," in common phrase; which
means, of course, that God regulates them by his general laws, which
always, in the long run, work to good.
3. Language cannot spring from intuition, for hearts/are surely the
possessors of instinct, which, however, does fliot lead them to this
method of expressing themselves.
4. Here and there some remnant of a large monument stands as
a sentinel, and the whole structure is indeed a sublime relic of past
grandeur.
5. Thus with her few notes does nature ring the changes of the
seasons; which we admire, and endeavoring to imitate, find but
shadowy success.
6. He spoils not a good school to make thereof a bad college,
therein to teach his scholars logic.
7. In this way the several churches (in which, as one may observe,
opinions are preferred to life, and orthodoxy is that which they are
concerned for, and not morals) put the terms of salvation on that
which/ the Author of-irnr-sarvation does not put them An.
8. There you are, out in an open sea outside, and all at sea inside ;
and you feel the need of a chart for the one, and an anchor for the
other, if you can find one.
9. Dr. Kane described the Arctic silence as sometimes almost
dreadful ; and one day at dinner, while Thackeray was quietly
smoking, a»4 Kane was fresh from his travels, he told them a story
of a sailor reading Pendennis.
10. They told me, if I would do as you wished, my father, who
loves me devotedly, would answer all the questions she asked.
11. The good old man soon grew weary of the gay life in the
house of his son, who had taken first-honors at college, and spent
much time and money in the entertainment of his sporting friends.
12. He fell into trouble by his first remarks, which might be cor-
rected by his subsequent behavior after a long acquaintance with
Dr. Johnson, whose readiness to forgive was well known.
13. As we walked through the beautiful streets, whose sides were
lined with maple-trees, whose leaves were just changing their color,
we wondered whose taste had planted the town.
14. She said, if she could find some one (even if she should not be
I
130 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
old enough, and competent to do the work required) for a few weeks,
she should be thankful.
15. One bright evening in June, as I ran down to the post-office
to get the letters for father, (for I thought it possible James had
written, and I stopped to see if I should inquire for our next-door
neighbor,) I met the most remarkable-looking woman.
16. I am entirely determined, under-any circumstances, to make
the journey, unless it rains.
17. There is to be a grand wedding next week, to which we are
all to be invited, or at least so I hear.
18. The equinoctial storm occurred last Tuesday, during which the
lightning struck a tree near the church that was built last spring.
19. Having finished his house, and furnished it handsomely, he
moved into it on the 22d of February, which is Washington's birth-
day.
20. When the news of the victory was received at Washington,
the people exhibited the greatest enthusiasm, as it was natural that
they should.
21. "Mind your own business" is an ancient proverb, (indeed all
proverbs seem to be ancient,) which deserves a due degree of atten-
tion from all mankind.
22. He built a large stone house on the brow of the hill, (it cost
ten thousand dollars,) which commanded a fine view of the sur-
rounding country.
23. The vessel made for the shore, and the passengers soon
crowded into the boats, and reached the beach in safety, where the
inhabitants received them with the utmost kindness, and a shelter
was provided for them.
24. The colonel ordered the regiment forward, and the men, ad-
vancing cautiously, discovered a mine which the enemy had made,
in order, if possible, to blow them to pieces.
25. As we rode to town, we met a man with a flock of geese, who
was talking to a little girl, in a pink sun-bonnet, who was carrying
a basket on her arm, containing a few radishes.
26. The boy left the house with a rake in his hand, which his
father bought at Smithville, where Mr. Jones lives, who lost four
children by the scarlet-fever last winter, when we had that dreadful
snow-storm.
SENTENCES— STRENG TIT. 131
RULE IV.— STRENGTH.
A Sentence should be so constructed as to give to the Thought
or Meaning which it contains its full force.
What is Meant by Strength. — The quality here referred to is vari-
ously designated, as strength, energy, animation, vividness, and so
forth. The rules already given are all preliminary and preparatory
to this. By Rule I, we secure simply the clear expression of the
meaning. But the meaning may be expressed in such a way that we
cannot mistake it, and yet with such feebleness of style as to make
no impression. Rule II advances a little from this mere negative
quality, and by giving a proper position to the main subject and
predicate of the sentence, makes them emphatic, and thus gives some
positive addition to the forcibleness of the expression. Rule III, by
securing an harmonious and rounded whole, removes obstacles, and
clears the way for a free current of the thought. Something more,
however, is needed than this. A sentence may express the author's
meaning, it may give emphasis to the leading parts, it may observe
the strictest rules of unity, and yet we feel that it wants something.
The author's meaning is not expressed with that force of which it
is capable. Of course, it does not belong to Style to give rules for
obtaining forcible or strong thoughts. That belongs to Invention.
But supposing an author to have a certain thought in his mind, it is
the business of the part of Rhetoric which we are now studying, to
show how that idea or thought may be so expressed as to produce
the strongest impression.
In constructing a sentence so as to secure for it the full strength of which the
thought is capable, several subordinate rules are to be observed.
1. Redundant Words.
A sentence is made stronger by leaving out redundant
words. It may be taken for granted, that whatever in a
sentence does not add to the meaning enfeebles it. Every
redundant word is so much dead weight.
" The least that is said on the subject, the soonest it will be mended," expresses
the idea clearly enough, but not with haU the force of the usual expression,
" Least said, soonest mended."
" Content with deserving a triumph, he refused the honor of it," is a livelier
expression than " Being content with deserving a triumph, he declined the honor
of it."
132 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
" There is nothing which so soon perverts the judgment as the hahit of drink-
ing intoxicating liquors" becomes much more sprightly by leaving out the un-
necessary words, thus: " Nothing perverts the judgment so soon as the habit of
drinking intoxicating liquors."
Necessity of Pruning. — In the first draught of any piece of com-
position, we are apt to use inversions and circumlocutions of this
kind. A severe eye therefore should be used in revising and prun-
ing our expressions. In this revision we should lop off every word
which does not add something to the sense. The only exception to
this is where the inversion is needed for securing the emphasis.
Whole Clauses are sometimes redundant. As every word ought
to present some new idea, so every new clause or member of the
sentence ought to present some new thought.
" The very first discovery of beauty strikes the mind with inward joy, and
spreads delight through all its faculties.'" Here the second clause adds little, if any-
thing, to the thought contained in the first. The repetition of the same idea in
words slightly different only enfeebles the expression. It has a similar effect to
that produced by putting an additional pint of water into a beverage already
compounded exactly to one's taste. Sentences, as well as tea and coffee, lose
flavor by being too much watered.
Source of Redundancy.— A common source of redundancy is the use of a
separate word to express an idea which is implied in one of the words already
used. " To return " is " to go back." The expression " returning back," is there-
fore redundant. The sentence, " They returned back again to the same city from
whence they came forth," contains five redundant words. The idea is expressed
with sufficient clearness, but it has not so much force as when we say simply,
" They returned to the city whence they came."
" The boy had his pocket full of a great many apples," is an example of the same
kind.
Error in the Opposite Direction. — Before dismissing the subject
of redundancy, it may be observed that sometimes words are left
out which ought really to be kept in. This is true especially of the
Relative pronoun. The ellipsis of the relative may be sometimes
allowable in conversation, where the meaning is helped out a good
deal by the tone, emphasis, and gesture, and also in familiar letters;
but in serious composition such ellipsis should rarely take place.
The insertion of the relative in its proper place almost always makes
the meaning more precise and determinate. "The man I loved"
should be "The man whom I loved." "The dominions we pos-
s< — <1, and the conquests we made" should be "The dominions
which we possessed, and the conquests which we made."
S ENTENCES— STRENG TH. 1 33
2. The Use of Very, and other Intensive Expressions.
A sentence is made stronger by avoiding the too frequent
use of very, and of other intensive or superlative expressions.
Inexperienced writers would do well, after completing any
piece of composition, to go through it, pen in hand, and strike
out three-fourths of the epithets, every superlative, and every
u very," which the sense does not imperatively demand.
Blair says, in speaking of sublimity, " It is not easy to describe in words the
precise impression which great and sublime objects make upon us. . . . The
emotion is certainly delightful, but it is altogether of the serious kind." A
feeble writer, wishing to express the same idea, would be apt to dilute it, as
follows : " It is not very easy to describe in words merely the precise and exact
impressions which very great and sublime objects make upon us. The emotion
most certainly is extremely delightful, but still it is altogether of a very serious and
solemn kind."
3. Words of Connection and Transition.
The strength of a sentence may often be increased by care
in the use of the words employed to mark connection or
transition. These are chiefly the relative pronouns, the con-
junctions, and the prepositions.
" These little words, but, and, which, whose, where, etc., are frequently the most
important of any ; they are the joints or hinges upon which all sentences turn,
and of course, much, both of the gracefulness and strength of sentences, must
depend upon such particles."— Blair.
No system of rules can be framed to suit all the cases that arise
under this head. All that can be done is to give a few examples,
with the observations which naturally grow out of them.
Splitting Particles.—" Though virtue borrows no assistance from,
yet it may often be accompanied by, the advantages of fortune."
This kind of construction is called splitting particles. (It consists
in separating a preposition from the noun which it governsj This
violent separation of things which ought to be closely united gives
an unsatisfied and displeased feeling to the mind. It brings the
current of thought to a disagreeable stand-still, and obliges us to
rest for a time on a little word which carries no meaning with it
until it is connected with its proper object. A better arrangement
of the sentence would have been, " Though virtue borrows no as-
sistance from the advantages of fortune, yet it may often be ac-
companied by them."
12
134 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Management of And.— Considerable skill is needed for the proper manage-
ment of the conjunction and. It is often used for stringing one clause upon
Another in a careless, slipshod way, which has an enfeebling effect upon the
style. " The Academy set up by Cardinal Richelieu, to amuse the wits of that
age and country, and divert them from raking into his politics and ministry,
brought this into vogue ; and the French wits have, for this last age, been wholly
turned to the refinement of their style and language; and, indeed, with such
success, that it can hardly be equalled, and runs equally through their verse and
their prose." Here are two faults, first an undue repetition of the "and ; " sec-
ondly, putting into one sentence what would be more effective if made into two
or three sentences. Thus : M The Academy set up by Cardinal Richelieu, to
amuse the wits of that age and country, and [to] divert them from raking into
his politics and ministry, brought this into vogue. The French wits have [ac-
cordingly] for this last age, been wholly turned to the refinement of their style
and language, and with such success, that it can hardly be equalled. It runs
equally through their verse and their prose."
Apparent Paradox. — Here we may notice an apparent paradox in
regard to the use of conjunctions. The object of the conjunction is
to join words together, so as to make their connection more close;
yet in effect we often mark a closer connection by omitting the con-
necting word. " [Charity] beareth all things, believeth all things,
hopeth all things, endureth all things." Here, by omitting the con-
junction between the verbs, we actually bring the several effects or
operations more closely together.* In consequence of the conjunc-
tion being out of the way, the mind passes more quickly from
thought to thought. On the other hand, when the writer wishes
us to rest for a moment on each item in an enumeration of particu-
lars, the conjunction is repeated after each. " Such a man might
fall a victim to power ; but truth, and reason, and liberty, would
fall with him."
Ittair's Observation. — " It is a remarkable peculiarity in language, that the
omission of a connecting particle should sometimes serve to make objects appear
more closely connected ; and that the repetition of it should distinguish and
separate them, in some measure, from each other. Hence, the omission of it is
used to denote rapidity ; and the repetition of it is designed to retard and to ag-
gravate. The reason seems to be, that, in the former case, the mind is supposed
to be hurried so fast through a quick succession of objects, that it has not leisure
to point out their connection ; it drops the copulatives in its hurry; and crowds
the whole series together, as if it were but one object When we enumerate,
with a view to aggravate, the mind is supposed to proceed with a more slow and
solemn pace; it marks fully the relation of each object to that which succeeds
♦This Bgurc, oalled Asyndeton (omitting the connectives), was much practised hv
Greek end Roman writers, mid nme examples have attained historical celebrity, ai
tin' Vt ni.ii,n, ,-iri of Cejear, and the AbUL areatttf, «wi<, mmfU of Cicero. So also
tlie opposite figure, Polysyndeton (multiplying the connectives), was much In vogue
among lluiu.
SENTENCES— STRENGTH. 135
It; and, by joining them together with several copulatives, makes you perceive
that the objects, though connected, are yet in themselves distinct ; that they are
many, not one."
Some examples will illustrate these points :
" One effort, one, to break the circling host ;
They form, unite, charge, waver, — all is lost ! "—Byron.
. . . "Of their wonted vigor left them drained,
Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen." — Milton.
Observe how the repetition of the and in the following enumera-
tion, serves to separate the several items, and thus to intensify and
aggravate the whole :
"Love was not in their looks, either to God
Or to each other, but apparent guilt,
And shame, and perturbation, and despair,
Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile."— Milton.
Observe, too, how the supplies needed by David and his men seem
to be piled up in his camp by the eager zeal of the country people :
" They brought beds, and basins, and earthen vessels, and wheat, and barley,
and flour, and parched corn, and beans, and lentils, and parched pulse, and
honey, and butter, and sheep, and cheese of kine."— 2 Sam. xvii. 28, 29.
So, too, our Saviour, in his description of the house upon the
sand, by repeating the conjunction obliges the mind of the reader
to dwell on each successive stage in the sad catastrophe :
"And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat
upon that house ; and it fell ; and great was the fall of it."— Matt. vii. 27, 28.
A similar effect is produced by the repetition of or and nor.
" I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,
nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any
other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in
Christ Jesus our Lord."— Rom. viii. 38, 39.
"Thus with the year
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine."— Milton.
4. Bringing to a Conclusion.
The strength of a sentence is promoted by due care in
bringing it to a conclusion.
136 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
The Beason. — The mind naturally dwells upon the last word. "We
should be careful therefore not to end a sentence with any word
that is comparatively unimportant, mean, or belittling. Such words
should be disposed of in some less conspicuous place.
It is rarely expedient to end a sentence with an adverb.
" Such things were not allowed formerly" This sentence gains decidedly in
strength by transposing the adverb thus : " Formerly such things were not al-
lowed." It may be indeed that the adverb is emphatic. In that case, it should
of course be placed wherever the emphasis will be brought out most clearly, as
in this sentence : " In their prosperity, my friends shall never hear of me ; in
their adversity, always."
Avoid ending a sentence with a preposition.
" Avarice is a vice which wise men are often guilty of." Change thus : " Ava-
rice is a vice of which wise men are often guilty."
" He is one whom good men are glad to be acquainted with." Change thus :
" He is one with whom good men are glad to be acquainted."
Objections to Ending with a Preposition. — Besides the want of dignity
which arises from ending a sentence with one of these small monosyllables,
with, from, of, in, to, by. and so on. the mind, as already stated, cannot help
resting for a moment upon the last word ; and if that word, instead of present-
ing some idea or picture to the imagination, some substantive import of its own,
merely serves to point out the relation of some other words, the effect cannot be
otherwise than enfeebling.
To laugh at, etc.— The rule is not to be observed so strictly in the case of
prepositions which are used after a verb in such close relation to it as to make a
virtual compound, like laugh at, bring about, lay hold of, clear up, etc. Even in
these cases, however, it is desirable, so far as we can, to find some simple verb,
of the same meaning, wherewith to end the sentence.
The Pronoun "it," especially when accompanied with a preposi-
tion, as with it, in it, to it, etc., makes a feeble ending to the sen-
tence.
" There is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing and triumphant consideration
in religion, than this, of the perpetual progress which the soul makes towards
the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it."
An unimportant phrase or circumstance brings up the rear of a
sentence with a bad grace.
" Let me, therefore, conclude by repeating, that division has caused all the
mischief or lament; that union alone can retrieve it; and that a great advance
towards this union, was the coalition of parties, so happily begun, so successfully
carried on, and of late so unaccountably neglected; to say no worse." The con-
chiding phrase, which I have placed in italics, makes a sad falling off in a sen-
tence otherwise admirably constructed.
SENTENCES— STRENGTH. 137
Faulty Contrasts. — Observe how a sentence is weakened by faulty-
contrasts :
" William is the better reader, but John writes best."
" I cannot draw as well as I am able to sing."
"Philadelphia is the largest in extent, but New York contains a greater num-
ber of inhabitants."
" The President holds the Executive power of the land, but the Legislative
power is vested in Congress."
5. Contrasted Changes.
In cases of contrast, the sentence becomes stronger and
more effective, if the contrasted members are constructed alike.
" The laughers will be for those who have most wit ; the serious part of mankind for
those who have most reason on their side." Correct thus : " The laughers will be
for those who have most wit; the serious for those who have most reason on their
side."
" Ignorance is a blank sheet, on which we must write ; error, a scribbled one,
from which we must erase."
No English writer is more observant of this rule than Junius.
Much indeed of the force of his invective is due to the perfection
of his sentences in this respect.
" They are still base enough to encourage the follies of your age, as they once
did the vices of your youth."
" They tell you, that .... as you lived without virtue, you should die without
repentance."
6. Climax.
A sentence consisting of several clauses receives a great
increase of strength by having its clauses arranged with a
view to a climax.
The following psssages afford instances of this style of construction :
" The power of man, his greatness, his glory, depend on essential qualities."
"A word from his lips, a thought from his brain, might turn their hearts,
might influence their passions, might change their opinions, might affect their
destiny."
" This decency, this grace, this propriety of manners to character, is so essen-
tial to princes in particular, that, whenever it is neglected, their virtues lose a
great degree of lustre, and their defects acquires much aggravation. Nay, more ;
by neglecting this decency and this grace, and for want of a sufficient regard to
appearances, even their virtues may betray them into failings, their failings into
vices, and their vices into habits unworthy of princes, and unworthy of men."
Climax not Common. — It is not always easy to construct a sen-
tence in this way, that is, with a succession of clauses, each rising
12*
138 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
and growing in importance above its predecessor. Not every sub-
jects admits of such an arrangement, nor would it be desirable to
construct all our sentences, or even a majority of them, on this
model. The effect would be to destroy all simplicity, and to make
the style stiff and pompous. Yet an occasional climax, brought in
at the right time and place, has a powerful effect.
Climax of Sentences. — Not only clauses of the same sentence should
be arranged with reference to this idea, but two or more indepen-
dent sentences, coming in succession, may be made more effective
by a similar arrangement. The general rule of Quintilian on the
subject is, "That a weaker assertion or proposition should never
come after a stronger one."
Cicero uses the following climax in his oration against Verres : " To bind a
Roman citizen is an outrage ; to scourge him is an atrocious crime ; to put him to
death is almost a parricide ; but to put him to death by crucifixion,— what shall
I call it?"
Minor Climax. — Besides this elaborate sort of climax, which is
necessarily only of occasional occurrence, there is a minor species of
climax which demands constant attention. Very many sentences,
perhaps one-half or one-third of all that occur in ordinary composi-
tion, consist of two members or clauses, and of these clauses one is
ordinarily longer than the other. In such cases, unless in any par-
ticular instance there is some reason to the contrary, the shorter
clause should come first. Periods, thus divided, are pronounced
more easily. Besides this, the shortest member being placed first,
we carry it more readily in our memory while proceeding to the
second.
" When our passions have forsaken us, we flatter ourselves with the belief that
we have forsaken them." This is a better sentence than it would be, if the
clauses were transposed, thus : " We flatter ourselves with the belief that we have
forsaken our passions, when they have forsaken us."
Examples.— The following examples will show how the meaning
may be weakened, and even made ridiculous, by a poorly arranged
climax :
Oh dear! oh dear! what shall I do?
I 've lost my wife and seed-corn too !
He lost his wife, his child, his household goods, and his dog. at one fell swoop.
David was a great warrior, a great statesman, a great poet, and a skilful per-
former on the harp.
What were the results of this conduct?— beggary ! dishonor! utter ruin ! and
a broken leg !
SENTENCES— STRENGTH. 139
Examples for Practice.
[Sentences containing violations of some of the rules laid down for promoting
Strength. The student is expected to point out the inaccuracy, and to recon-
struct the sentences, avoiding that particular fault.]
1. Of his ascent up Mount Vesuvius, he gives a very interesting
account.
2. When such a man is found, his name is in every one's mouth,
his praises are sounded by all.
3. He goes to Europe in order to recover his health from a severe
attack of bronchitis. ; • >;
4. Few have ever described Niagara with so_m»ch vividness as
this author.
5. We delight in such a work, whether it pleases the eye, enriches
the understanding, or supplies our humbler needs.
6. The Greeks and Romans drew prognostics from prodigies, that
is to say, from rare natural appearances; among which comets,
meteors, and eclipses held an important place.
7. Tho wholo of it is pervaded by a spirit of judicial calmness.
8. When will the curtain rise upj
9. He reduced the pounds down to shillings and pence.
10. From- whence did he come?
11. As I previously remarked before now, I say again.
12. The sentence is full of the -greatest number of mistakes.
13. I have got, at the very lowest calculation, at least one hun-
dred votes.
14. I was sorry to hear that you were an invalid, that is to say,
that you den%-enjoy_ge©d health.
15. I am quite certain that he was the ve*^ identical boy to whom
you allude.
16. He took it from, and would not return it to, the child.
17. He walked past, but did not enter into, the garden.
18. There was no evidence of habitation about the place, and nei-
ther leaf nor bud was to be seen, and the quail piped, and the crow
croaked dismally and unceasingly, and all things were dreary and
unattractive.
19. He was sure to give the correct word exaotlyt
20. I will do it, perhaps.
21. It is a house I should never be willing to live in.
22. That is a vice you cannot accuse me of.
23. The wrongs of Ireland will crumble under one well-directed
140 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
blow, and D'Israeli is the one man in Parliament who knows how
to attend to it.
24. The men were wearied with the exertions of the preceding
days, yet he urged them on.
25. I do not know what the house is built of.
26. I cannot tell what street he lives in.
27. He behaved much more dishonorably than was anticipated.
28. The house was closely crowded with an immense number of
people.
29. They ascended up the hill.
30. They descended down into the valley.
81. I will recompense him back again.
RULE V. — HARMONY.
A Sentence should be so constructed as to have a Pleasing
Effect upon the ear.
The Rules thus far have had reference to the following points : 1. Clearness, 2.
Emphasis, 3. Unity, 4. Strength. Sentences are now to be considered in reference
to Harmony, or mere agreeableness to the ear.
1. The Prevalence of Pleasant Sounds.
The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by the prevalence
in it of pleasant sounds.
Sound not to be Disregarded.— Sound, though a quality much infe-
rior to sense, is yet not to be disregarded. Men are influenced, not
merely by what is reasonable, but by what is agreeable, and no
thought can be entirely agreeable which is communicated to the
mind by means of harsh and unpleasant sounds.
The manner in which a sentence sounds depends, first upon the
choice of words, secondly upon their arrangement.
Choice of Words.— Some words are in themselves more agreeable
to the ear than others. No definite rules can be given for determin-
ing what words have a musical sound. The following points, how-
ever, may be assumed : 1. Whatever words are difficult of pronun-
ciation are, in the same proportion, harsh and painful to the ear.
2. A preponderance of vowels and liquids gives softness to the sound
and ease in pronunciation. 3. The same effect is produced by a
proper alternation of vowels and consonants. Several vowels com-
SENTENCES— HARMONY. 141
ing together require the mouth to be opened disagreeably. Several
consonants coming together, particularly if they are mutes, close the
organs to an extext that makes the utterance difficult.
Take the word antiquity. Dropping the consonants, we have aiui y; dropping
the vowels, we have ntqt. The former combination is difficult of utterance on
account of the hiatus after each of the vowels ; the latter, on account of the entire
absence of hiatus. We pass more easily from one vowel to another for having a
consonant between them, and more easily from one consonant to another for
having a vowel between them. A word in which the vowels and consonants are
duly mixed up is on that account more easily pronounced and more agreeable to
the ear. Any one can test this by uttering such euphonious combinations as mer-
rily, happiness, remedy, obloquy, demeanor, sonorous, bridal, tidal, hymnal, etc., or
such difficult combinations as quench'd, writst, placedst, bak'dst.
A Beautiful Example. — Nothing can be imagined softer or more
euphonious than the following lines, in which every vowel regularly
alternates with a consonant, and nearly every consonant is a liquid :
Lay him low, lay him low,
In the clover or the snow :
What cares he? he cannot know:
Lay him low. — Boker.
A word, though otherwise euphonious, is disagreeable to the ear. (1.) When
two syllables of the same, or nearly the same sound, succeed each other, as in
lowlily, holily, gaylily, sillily ; (2.) When there is a long succession of unaccented
syllables, as in cursorily, arbitrarily, peremptoriness, meteorological, anthropologi-
cal, etc.
Arrangement of Words. — Words which by themselves are suffi-
ciently euphonious sometimes displease the ear on account of their
proximity to certain other words in the sentence.
This is the case whenever in contiguous words there are similar combinations
of sounds; as, His history; I can candidly say; I confess with humility the
deb*7%of my judgment; sterile ^literacy ; bring gingham; they stood up upon
their feet ; he will wtffully persist ; the man manfully endured.
The following curious lines illustrate the point :
O'er the sea see the flamingo flaming go,
The lark hie high, the swallow follow low;
The small bees busy at their threshold old,
And lambs lamenting the threefold fold.
Alternation of Soft and Harsh Sounds. — The ear is pleased with
such an arrangement of words that soft and liquid sounds alternate
in due proportion with sounds that are rugged and comparatively
harsh. A long succession of words in which there are but few con-
142 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
sonants, and those chiefly liquids, gives for a time the idea of light-
ness and grace; but if the peculiarity is pushed too far, it produces
at length the impression of weakness and effeminacy.
Observe the multiplication of liquid sounds in the following lines from Poe :
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
Contrast these with the second of the following lines :
His sinuous path, by blazes, wound
Among trunks grouped in myriads round.
Here the " u " in " trunks " stands imbedded in nine consonants,
four of them moreover being mutes ; thus, ngtrwnksgr.
Perhaps there is not in the language a finer example of the alter-
nation of liquid and rugged sounds, than the following lines from
Whittier :
I love the old melodious lays
Which softly melt the ages through,
The songs of Spenser's golden days,
Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase,
Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew.
What sweeter English was ever written than this description of
the fall of Mulciber? (Paradise Lost, I, 738-746.)
Nor was his name unheard or unadored
In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land
Men called him Mulciber; and how he fell
From heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove
Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A summer's day ; and with the setting sun
Dropped from the zenith like a falling star,
On Lemnos, the Aegean isle.
2. The Accents at Convenient Intervals.
The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by arranging the
words in such a manner that the accents come at convenient
and somewhat measured intervals.
It is this peculiarity mainly which makes some prose writings
so much easier to road than others. This measured style is very
SENTENCES— HARMONY. 143
observable in Dr. Johnson. In the following sentences, the accents
come at measured intervals with almost the uniformity of verse.
I shall not think my employment useless or ignoble, if, by my assistance,
foreign nations and distant ages gain access to the propagators of knowledge,
and understand the teachers of truth ; if my labors afford light to the repos-
itories of science, and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to Milton, and to
Boyle.
Great Care Needed. — If this style of composition is continued
through a number of periods in succession, it becomes monotonous
and wearisome. Nothing, indeed, in the mere form of expression,
requires greater skill and judgment than the proper alternation of
these nicely balanced periods with sentences of a different char-
acter. Milton's prose writings furnish some of the finest examples
that oar literature affords of the harmonious and rhythmical ar-
rangement of words. Take the following oft-quoted sentence :
I shall detain ye now no longer in the demonstration of what we should not
do, but straight conduct ye to a hillside, where I will point ye out the right path
of a virtuous and noble education ; laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else
so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious sounds on every
side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.
If the sentence just quoted has the softness and gentleness of an
iEolian harp, others have the majestic swell and sonorousness of
some mighty organ. They are equally musical, though the music
is of a different kind. Witness the following :
Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a
strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks ; methinks I see her as
an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full
midday beam; purging and unsealing her long-abused sight at the fountain
itself of heavenly radiance ; while the whole noise of timorous and flocking
birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at what she
means !
Contrast these passages with the following from Tillotson :
This discourse concerning the easiness of God's commands, does, all along,
suppose and acknowledge the difficulties of the first entrance upon a religious
course ; except only in those persons who have had the happiness to be trained
up to religion by the easy and insensible degrees of a pious and virtuous edu-
cation.
3. Cadence at the Close.
The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by a due attention
to the cadence at the close.
144 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Why Important. — It is important to leave upon the ear, at the
close of a sentence, a sound hoth agreeable in itself, and suited to
the general impression which we wish to make. The words and
clauses therefore should be so marshalled that something pleasing
and sonorous may come in at the end.
The following passage from " The Wife," by Washington Irving,
well illustrates both this rule and the preceding :
As the vine, which has long twined its graceful foliage about the oak, and been
lifted by it into sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted by the thunder-
bolt, cling round it with its caressing tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs ;
so is it beautifully ordered by Providence, that woman, who is the mere depend-
ant and ornament of man in his happier hours, should be his stay and solace
when smitten with sudden calamity ; winding herself into the rugged recesses
of his nature, tenderly supporting the drooping head, and binding up the broken
heart.
In this long sentence, the pauses or rests are so adjusted that the
voice passes with entire ease from point to point, while in the last
line the whole construction is brought to a most graceful and pleas-
ing conclusion.
Small Unaccented Words at the End. — Any marked falling off in
sonorousness at the end is displeasing to the ear. For this reason,
we should avoid closing a sentence with a small unaccented word.
Such a termination is injurious to harmony as well as to strength.
" It is a mystery which we firmly believe the truth of, and humbly adore the
depth of." Change it thus : " It is a mystery, the truth of which we firmly be-
lieve, and the depth of which we humbly adore."
An Accent Needed near the End. — It seems to hold in general, in
our language, that, in order to a musical close, either the last syl-
lable, or the last but one, should have the accent. Hence words
which have the accent far removed from the end, such as c6ntrary,
auditory, pe'remptorily, etc., are, so far as the music is concerned,
unsuited for the close of a sentence. To say, " The order was given
peremptorily," does not end as agreeably to the ear as to say, u The
order was given in a peremptory manner."
4. Adapting the Sound to the Sense.
The Harmony of a sentence is promoted by adapting the
sound to the sense.
Character of this Harmony. — The Harmony which arises from
SENTENCES— HARMONY. 145
this source is of a much higher kind than that which arises from
mere pleasantness of sound. This higher kind of harmony may
exist where there are sounds which in themselves are harsh and
grating. This very ruggedness of sound may in some cases be a
part of the harmony. The author may desire to convey the idea of
something disagreeable and horrid, in which case the harshness of
the words is in perfect consonance with the thought, and helps the
effect. The opening of Hell gates, in Paradise Lost, is often quoted
in illustration of this point.
On a sudden open fly
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound
The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook
Of Erebus.
Greater Variety Admissible. — In seeking, therefore, that kind of
harmony which consists in adapting the sound to the sense, a great
variety of words is admissible. For grave and serious ideas we
naturally use words whose sounds are slow and measured. Stern
and impetuous thoughts are expressed by words which are harsh
and discordant. Gentle and benignant feelings, on the other hand,
require soft and flowing words. By selecting words of different
sounds, a writer may indicate many varieties of motion, as swift or
slow, easy or difficult, and may even imitate particular noises, as
when we speak of the hum of the bee, the hiss of the serpent, the
whistling of the wind, the crash of the falling tree.
Notice how huge size and unwieldiness are expressed by the
choice of words in the following passages from Milton :
Part, huge of bulk,
Wallowing, unwieldy, enormous in their gait,
Tempest the ocean.
Scarce from his mould
Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved
His vastness.
The labor of Sisyphus is aptly imitated by Pope in the following
lines, particularly in the last :
With many a weary step, and many a groan,
Up the high Mil he fteaves a Mige round stone.
The imitation here is rendered more effective by the artifice of
the continued repetition of the aspirate.
13 K
146 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
The felling of timber is thus described, in words whose sound is
clearly an echo of the sense :
Deep-echoing groan the thickets brown,
Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.
One of the most remarkable examples of harmony produced by
the adaptation of the sound to the sense, is Poe's well-known poem
of the "Bells." The poem is too familiar to need quotation. Ten-
nyson's " Bugle Song " is another exquisite instance.
Apart from the mere sound of the words, an imitative harmony
may be produced in poetry by the rhythm. Thus the galloping of
a horse is imitated in the following :
At each bound he could feel his scabbard of steel
Smiting his stallion's flanks.— Longfellow.
A charge of cavalry is imitated in the following :
Forward! break cover!
Ride through them ! ride over
Them! baptize the clover,
With blood as with dew!— Boker.
Part of the effect of haste in the last passage is produced by
what musicians call the slur between "over" and " them," and be-
tween "clover" and "with."
Almost every variety of warlike sound is imitated in these lines :
Hark to the brazen blare of the bugle!
Hark to the rattling clatter of the drums,
The measured tread of the steel-clad footmen!
Hark to the laboring horses' breath,
Painfully tugging the harnessed cannon;
The shrill, sharp clink of the warriors' swords,
As their chargers bound when the trumpets sound
Their alarums through the echoing mountains ! —Boker.
How very different the following :
And far below the Roundheads rode,
And hummed a surly hymn.— Tennyson.
Miscellaneous Examples on the Construction of
Sentences.
[Point out whatever is faulty in any of these sentences, and reconstruct the
sentences so as to avoid the fault]
1. In nature, the foundation of order is the plan to which every-
thing conforms, and all in perfect harmony.
SENTENCES— MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES. 147
2. He is a benefactor who from scattered fragments constructs a
work, clear in outline, and symmetrical, to endure through the ages.
3. Poverty habitually comes in like an armed man, and misery and
want uaalleviateil, ««d sometimes ajaparently unperceived, rule with
absolute dominion in the place.
4. A man very much under the influence of liquor, with a pair
of shad, was making his way under difficulties to the depot, on
Saturday.
5. To this accomplished and unfortunate lady, Anne Boleyn, whose
beauty attracted the fatal notice, but could not fix the brutal passion
of the king, who " spared neither man in his wrath nor woman in
his lust," is sometimes ascribed the following touching poem, though
neither Mr. Walton nor Mr. Ritson think justly.
6. This beautiful and highly accomplished woman, Mary Queen
of Scots, whose feminine character ill fitted her for the throne of a
rude nation in the most agitated period of its history, afitHrho had
the misfortune to live among enemies paid to slander her, while none
dared to defend her against a haughty powerful rival, that united
to a woman's jealousy of her superior claims, the sternest policies
of unscrupulous ambition, is now seldom named without melancholy
interest, and a wish to forget her faults in the trials of her circum-
stances.
7. The French being her tongue from infancy, she preferred to
write in it; and, though not strictly within the plan of our work,
we subjoin a copy of verses written during her imprisonment in
Fotheringay Castle, with a Latin hymn, the musical cadence of
which has been greatly admired, " composed and repeated " by her
the day before the execution.
8. She added to unusual learning much talent as a painter, and
according to her admiring contemporaries, as a poetical writer.
9. She wrote, among other poems, a spirited defence of her sex,
in answer to Pope's Characters of Women, which Duncombe praises
in his Feminead.
10. She was fond, however, of literary society, as is shown by her
friendship for Mrs. Rowe (she was the authoress of the letter signed
Cleora in Mrs. R.'s collection) ; Thomson, whom she kindly patron-
ized (who dedicated to her the first edition of his Spring) ; Dr.
Watts (who dedicated to her his Miscellaneous Thoughts in Prose
and Verse) ; and Shenstone (who addressed to her his Ode on Rural
Elegance).
148 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
11. Mrs. Greville (whose maiden name was Fanny McCartney),
wife of Fulke Greville, author of Maxims, Characters, etc., 1756,
wrote, about 1753, her Prayer for Indifference, which was very
popular, and provoked several clever replies, the best being by the
Countess of C , supposed to be Isabella, Countess of Carlisle,
who died 1793.
12. Mrs. Crewe was the daughter of Mrs. Greville ; and her sec-
ond son, Captain William Fulke Greville, died at Dover in 1837,
aged 87, from which we infer that her marriage was antecedent to
1749.
13. She went upon the stage, for which she had long before an
inclination, to gain a support.
14. Piozzi died in 1809, but in 1819-20 his sprightly widow
showed, not only that her physical elasticity was preserved, by
dancing with great spirit at public balls, but that her sensibilities
were yet warm, by falling in love with Conway, the handsome
actor.
15. In 1776, she printed Sir Eldred of the Bower, a ballad, and a
little poem, in imitation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, on a rock in
Somersetshire, from which issues a red stream, called The Bleeding
Rock, which had been written some years before.
16. This well-known lady, the widow of a Presbyterian clergyman
of Inverness-shire, Scotland, whose Letters from the Mountains
have been so generally and universally admired, published a volume
of poems in 1801, which shows the same talents that made her
descriptions of scenery so graphicand delightful.
17. The editor has far greater pleasure in speaking of her writings,
as they struck his youthful fancy, than with the cool judgment of
more mature years.
18. Bereaved by death of one to whom her heart was given, she
became in an unpropitious hour the wife of the Hon. George Chap-
pel Norton, who proved himself utterly unworthy of having com-
mitted to him the child of beauty, genius, and generous feeling,
whom he has persecuted with the basest accusations and untiring
malignity.
19. We may recur to an earlier period, when the crown was de-
visable by will in England, or when at least the succession was set-
tlid in accordance with the desires of a dying sovereign, for some
kind of parulKl.
20. He is a public benefactor who from scattered fragments con-
SENTENCES— MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES. 149
structs a work clear in outline and symmetrical, to endure through
ages.
21. Rich or poor^you have always been to me a true friend.
22. Is it nothing to be obliged to toil almost in the menial con-
cerns of his wretched habitation ?
23. My confidence in the people governing is unlimited ; my con-
fidence in the people governed is infinitesimal.
24. Everybody when they buy want the best.
25. I am sure there was a case in the day before yesterday's
paper, extracted from one of the French newspapers, about a jour-
neyman shoemaker who was jealous of a young girl in an adjoining
village, because she would not shut herself up in an air-tight three-
pair of stairs, and charcoal herself to death with him ; and who
went and hid himself in a wood with a sharp-pointed knife ; and
rushed out as she passed by with a few friends, and killed himself
first, and then all the friends, and then her — no, killed all the
friends first, and then herself, and then himself — which was quite
frightful to think of.
26. Such a man should not be tolerated in office, for one who
receives bribes for the administration of justice can hardly be
thought at all times to keep in mind what justice means, nor one
who winks at wrong-doing to be free from all taint of misdemeanor
himself.
27. Owing to an obstacle on the track, and the badness of the
weather, the train was delayed, and as John did not reach home in
time to attend the funeral, they concluded to postpone it.
28. My son John rode down to Colchester, mounted upon the old
bay horse. Shying at a white gate, he stumbled and cast a shoe,
and John was detained an hour at the smithy.
29. The English hate frogs, but the French love frogs and hate
the English, and cut off their hind legs and consider them a great
delicacy.
30. John Brown, his wife, baby, and dog, came up to town to see
the fair, and passing through the streets he amused himself by bark-
ing at every unprotected female he met.
31. The moon is situated about two hundred and forty thousand
miles from the earth, and is supposed to be an opaque body shining
only by the reflection of the rays passing from the sun, and it influ-
ences the waters of the earth in such a way as to produce a tidal
wave once in 24 hours.
13*
150 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
32. A man walked down the street, followed by a little dog,
sporting a green neck-tie and patent leather boots.
33. He came into church with his wife, wearing a full dress
uniform of the cavalry regiment then stationed in the neighbor-
hood.
34. The man who sat writing with a Roman nose was ordered to
leave the room.
35. The old astronomers were free to invent whatever theories
they pleased as to the scale on which the sidereal scheme is con-
structed, since if the earth were at rest we could never know how
far the stars were from us, and it was only when the earth was set
free by Copernicus from the imaginary chain which had been con-
ceived as holding it in the centre of the universe, that it became
possible to form any conception of the distances at which the stars
lie from us.
36. By reason of the traces of the awful earthquake of 1812,
which did its work with suddenness, almost as appalling as that
which destroyed Manilla, the environs of the capital are sadly
interesting.
37. Well, sir, I (who am a very quiet, and, I believe, inoffensive
man, whose only wish in life is to be allowed to sit in a corner, out
of other people's way, and read books,) I had occasion to drive
across Hyde Park on the afternoon of Tuesday, the day after the
storm, in company with my wife, who, as is her wont, was giving
me, who am somewhat infirm of foot, the benefit of a lift to my
club — a literary club, as harmless and colorless as myself, and
when fairly in the park I found that, though the great storm was
over, the waves were very far from gone down: angry little surface-
waves, different enough from the grand natural heaving of the true
popular sea.
38. By the time I had taken five bottles, I found myself com-
pletely cured, after having been brought so near to the gate of
death, by means of your invaluable medicine.
39. An extensive view is presented from the fourth story of the
Delaware River.
40. His remains were committed to that bourne whence no travel-
ler returns, attended by his family.
41. If the gentleman who keeps a store in Cedar Street, with a
r« il bead, will return the umbrella he borrowed from a lady, with
an ivory handle, he will hear of something to his advantage.
SENTENCES— MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES. 151
42. Wanted a groom to take charge of two horses of a serious
turn of mind.
43. He walked toward the table and took up his hat and bade
adieu to his host and took his departure.
44. As I was on the express train, I watched the conductor pass-
ing through the cars, collecting the tickets from the way passengers,
and punching the through ones.
45. All persons must detest traitors who possess any love of coun
try whatever.
46. John is the best boy in the village that attends the academy.
47. The books treat of trees that are on the fourth shelf.
48. Her apron was torn by a little dog, that was trimmed with
pink and white braid.
49. William Penn gave this advice to his children : Let your in-
dustry and parsimony go no further than for a sufficiency for life,
and to make a provision for your children, and that in moderation,
if the Lord gives you any.
50. Why, our cook (she 's fifty, if she 's a day) got a bonnet just
like mine, (the materials were cheaper, but the effect was the same,)
and had the impertinence (servants have no idea of their place in
this country) to wear it before my face.
51. If some men, according to the fashionable metaphor, are
square, while others are round, the Eight Hon. Robert Lowe must
be described as multangular, with whom it is not easy to live com-
fortably and at peace.
52. Mrs. Ingram, a most estimable lady, widow of the late pro-
prietor, who was a member from Boston, and died last year, is the
sole owner of the Illustrated London News.
53. It was midnight — the very hour at which (with a punctuality
few of them have exhibited in the flesh) spirits invariably revisit
(what can be the attraction in many cases ?) their former abodes.
54. The heavenly bodies are in motion perpetually.
55. Not only did he find her busy, but pleased and happy ever.
56. I have done that which I have spoken to thee of.
57. Poverty wants some things; the avaricious want all things.
58. The public is interested in knowing who is the rascal, as he
charges, who is drawing thousands of dollars in sinecures from the
public purse.
59. I move the appointment of a committee to report what al-
terations are necessary to the next General Assembly.
152 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
60. They expect the overthrow of all the old traditions of a race,
whose religion, customs, and laws run from time immemorial, in
the twinkling of an eye.
61. Edward I. had in his youth rescued the crown from the pre-
sumptuous Leicester, and had replaced it upon the head of his weak
but well-meaning father.
62. When young Henry was eleven years of age, in the year he-
fore the revolution which brought his father to the throne, Beau-
fort, who had been made Chancellor of the University of Oxford,
took him under his care at Queen's College.
63. Although the king treated his kinsman with much courtesy,
he evidently regarded him as a pledge of safety.
64. Henry was conveyed by the king's order to the castle of
Tryon, where he and his cousin, young Humphrey, Duke of Glou-
cester, were put in easy confinement.
65. He was shocked that one who had in every way sought his
love by gentle kindness, should be deprived of power and liberty by
his own nearest kinsman.
66. Yet it was natural for him to conceal whatever sadness he
might entertain on account of the misfortune of his friend, in the
brilliant scenes of which he was the principal actor.
67. His presence in company with the new king, gave additional
eclat to the usurpation ; for he was looked upon as innocent of the
stain, and his youth and beauty elicited the enthusiasm of the popu-
lace, who were now to regard him as their future monarch.
68. Both body and mind were patient under hardships, whether
voluntary or under necessity endured.
69. He was impatient, in the generosity of his nature, of that
praise which sought him out in injustice of those who had really
triumphed.
70. No man went from his presence with anger in his breast.
71. The intimacy of a prince of the blood royal with common
persons would be noticed enough to build such traditions upon, and
we may be sure, that had Henry really been guilty of drunkenness,
burglary, and carousing, we should have had the fact duly authen-
ticated by the gossiping chroniclers of the day.
72. Owen himself seems to have in a manner retired from the
command, and to have delegated his authority to a brave lieutenant,
Rees ap Griffith, who was not, however, inclined to resume that rash
mode of warfare which had made Owen so famed a leader.
SENTENCES— MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES. 153
73. One of the most extraordinary men of that, perhaps of any
age, appeared to annoy Henry the Fourth, from this time almost to
the day of his death. A rebellion headed by him, took its rise, to
keep which in abeyance drained the resources of England, and
which at times absolutely threatened the integrity of the throne.
74. The king grew prematurely old under the unusual weight of
his cares, and the anxieties which would naturally depress one who
held his crown by an uncertain tenure.
75. Chivalry thus illustrated its most stately adornments, and the
barbarities of which its concomitants almost compel admiration.
76. Thus Pedro threw away the very friendship without which
he would still have been an exile, the alienation of which left him
exposed without defence to that resistless home party, which still
clung to his brother Henry.
77. An opportunity very soon presented itself, and we arrive at
that romantic episode in the history of those times, in which were
cast the obtrusive events of John of Gaunt's career, and which have
been most efficacious to preserve his name and deeds to later gen-
erations.
78. Hume says that John of Gaunt was not even enterprising;
but he must mean that he was not ambitious of the crown, nor of
the direction of the government ; for his life was one of almost
ceaseless activity.
CHAPTER IV.
FIGURES.
Relation of the Subject to those which Precede. — In the expression
of thought, it is the business of the writer or the speaker, first to
obtain the words needed, and then to arrange them into completed
expressions. These two points have been already discussed in the
chapters on Diction and Sentences. Words are the brick and mortar,
sentences are the finished walls, of the mental fabric. But Rhetoric,
no less than architecture, needs something more than bare walls. It
has, equally with the sister art, its arabesques and mosaics, its arches
and columns, its lights and shadows, its curious tracery, its lines of
grace and beauty, — its appeal, in short, to the taste and the imagi-
nation, as well as to the understanding. "We wish, in other words, not
only to express our meaning, but to express it in forms which will
make it more agreeable and attractive. In natural order, therefore,
the next subject in Rhetoric, after Diction and Sentences, is the
discussion of the various means by which we add to discourse graces
and attractions beyond those derived from the bare expression of
thought. Among these means none are more conspicuous than those
known as Figures. To these, therefore, we shall now address our-
selves.
Definition of Figure. — A Figure, in Rhetoric, is some de-
viation from the plain and ordinary mode of expression, with
a view of making the meaning more effective.
An Example.— If it is said, "A good man enjoys comfort in the midst of ad-
versity," the thought is expressed in the simplest manner possible. But if we
say, "To the upright there ariseth light in darkness," the same sentiment is
expressed in a figurative style. There is a deviation from the plain and simple
expression. Light is put in place of comfort, darkness in place of adversity, and
this change in the mode of expression makes the idea more vivid.
154
FIGURES. 155
Another Example.— To say, "It is impossible to explore the Divine nature
fully by any search we can make," is to utter a simple proposition. But when
we say, "Canst thou, by searching, find out God? Canst thou find out the Al-
mighty to perfection? It is high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than
hell, what canst thou know ?" we introduce a figure. Not only the proposition
is expressed, but admiration and astonishment are expressed with it, and the
meaning is made in every way more effective.
Another Example. — If we say, " That is strange," we use the plain, ordi-
nary mode of stating a fact. But if we say, " How strange that is ! " the expres-
sion is changed from a mere assertion to an exclamation of surprise. It is there-
fore a figure, a form of speech different from the ordinary mode of expression.
An Example of a IHfferent Kind. — In the phrase, " Now is the winter of
our discontent," there is a figure, but it is of another kind. The form of the ex-
pression is not changed, but one of the words, " winter," is turned from its literal
meaning, a season of the year, and is made to signify a condition of the human
feelings. This changing or turning away of a word from its literal meaning is
called a Trope, from the Greek word tropos (rpoTros), which means a turning.
Figures and Tropes. — The ancients observed carefully the
distinction between Figures and Tropes. But at present the
one term, Figure, is used to cover the whole subject, and to
mean any deviation from the plain and ordinary mode of
expression, whether in the form of the sentence, or in the
meaning of a particular word.
Figures not Unnatural.— Though Figures are thus some deviation
from the ordinary mode of expression, it does not follow that they
are forced or unnatural. Figures are not the inventions of rhetori-
cians, any more than the laws of language are the inventions of
grammarians. As writers on grammar have observed how men
speak, and from this have drawn the rules of speech, so writers on
rhetoric have noticed how men depart from the plain and ordinary
mode of expression when they wish to give special force or vivid-
ness to their meaning, and from this fact the character and rules for
such figurative expressions have been derived. The most illiterate
men, as well as the most learned, speak in figures. No races, in
fact, are so much addicted to the use of figurative language as the
semi-barbarous and the savage. Whenever the imaginations of the
multitude are awakened, or their passions inflamed, they pour forth
their feelings in a torrent of figures. It is rare, indeed, that any
one, learned or unlearned, civilized or savage, in a composed or in
an excited state of mind, discourses for any length of time without
the use of figures. Figurative expressions are as important to the
156 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
agreeableness of discourse as are color and form to that of the land-
scape.
Origin of Figures. — The first source of figures is the bar-
renness of language.
Explanation. — In the first attempts to use language, men would
begin with giving names to the different objects with which they
became acquainted. As the ideas of men multiplied, their stock of
names and words would be enlarged. But for this infinite variety
of ideas and objects in the world, no language would be adequate.
Any language would become unmanageable which should undertake
to supply a separate word for every separate idea. Men therefore
would seek to abridge the labor of inventing and remembering such
an infinite number of words. One word, which had been invented
to express some particular idea or object, would be used to express
some other idea or object to which it was imagined to bear a like-
JExample.— The word dull in its primary meaning applies to an instrument
having an edge. But when we speak of an essay as being " dull," We imagine
the mental effect of such a composition to be similar to the material effect of an
edged tool that is dull. So, instead of making a new word, we use the old word
in a new and changed sense. This change is called a figure. A dull knife is
literal. A dull essay is figurative. In this manner a large number of figurative
uses of words have arisen. Mental operations especially are most commonly ex-
pressed by words derived from sensible objects. Thus we speak of a piercing
judgment, a clear head, a soft heart; of one inflamed by anger, warmed by love,
swelled with pride, melted with pity, and so on.
Second Source. — The other and indeed the principal source
of figures is the pleasure which they give.
Explanation.— In this case we use figures, not because of the bar-
renness of language, but because the figurative expression is more
agreeable than the literal one. We have words already at our com-
mand for expressing the plain, simple meaning; but we are more
pleased with some other expression which, besides the primary and
literal meaning, conveys some additional idea of an agreeable char-
acter.
/',><» mples.— Thus the sun becomes "the powerful king of day." youth is
called " the morning of life," " gray hairs " means old age, the " sceptre " means
the royal authority, and so on.
FIGURES— SIMILE. 157
Names of the Figures. — The most common figures are
Simile, Metaphor, Allegory, Antithesis, Epigram, Metonymy,
Synecdoche, Interrogation, Exclamation, Apostrophe, Person-
ification, Hyperbole, Irony.
I. SIMILE.
Simile, or Comparison, consists in formally likening one
thing to another.
Examples.— The condemnation of Socrates took him away in his full gran-
deur and glory, like the setting of a tropical sun.
True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest who have learnt to dance.
I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory.
Why Similes Please. — Similes are a source of pleasure to the mind
on several accounts :
1. First, we are so constituted that we naturally are pleased in
comparing objects with one another, and tracing the points of like-
ness or of unlikeness between them. This habit of comparison is
common to all persons. Even children take delight in it, as soon as
they are capable of taking distinct notice of objects. The mere fact
of there being a likeness gives, when observed, a pleasure to the mind.
2. Secondly, a simile usually makes the principal object plainer,
or gives it a stronger impression on the mind, and on this account
is a source of additional pleasure. An author, wishing to say that
the memory of a certain person is both quick and retentive, makes
the idea clearer and more forcible, and at the same time more
agreeable to the reader, by expressing the thought thus: "His
memory is like wax to receive impressions, and like marble to re-
tain them."
3. Thirdly, by a skilful use of simile, the principal object may be
embellished and made more agreeable by being associated with
something of a superior character — something splendid, graceful,
refined, dignified, or grand, according to the occasion. Shakespeare
says of a certain strain of music :
... It came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odor.
14
158 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Every one feels, on reading snch a comparison, that the image
with which soft music is thus associated has given it an additional
embellishment and charm.
Burlesque. — Similes are not always used to dignify and elevate an object.
The aim of the writer may be, as in burlesque, to make a thing seem mean by
comparing it to something low and degrading. Thus Butler says of Hudibras :
. . . 'Tis known he could speak Greek
As naturally as pigs squeak ;
[And] Latin was no more difficile
Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle.
Thus also he burlesques morning :
The sun had long since, in the lap
Of Thetis, taken out his nap ;
And, like a lobster boiled, the morn
From black to red began to turn.
The Object of Simile is to increase the effect intended in
the main assertion, whether that intention be to exalt or to
degrade, to dignify or to burlesque.
Likeness of Effect. — Though the essence of a simile consists in
likeness, yet the likeness is not necessarily of a material kind. One
thing may be like another, not because they look alike, or sound
alike, or have any material qualities in common, but because they
produce similar effects upon the mind. They raise similar trains of
thought or feeling, or the remembrance of one strengthens in some
way the impression produced by the other. This kind of subtle
likeness often has a more pleasing effect than one which is more
obvious to the senses.
Example from Ossian. — A certain simile of Ossian's has been much ad-
mired on this account. Of a particular strain of music, he says, it was " like the
memory of joys that are past, pleasant and mournful to the soul." The effect
here is much finer than if he had compared the music to the song of the nightin-
gale, or the murmur of a stream, although in the latter cases there would have
been more of actual likeness.
Mere Likeness does not of itself constitute a simile. There is no
simile, in the rhetorical sense of that word, when one city is com-
pared to another city, one house to another house, one man to an-
other man, Napoleon to Caesar, Rothschild to Croesus. In order
that there may be a legitimate simile, the objects compared must be
of a different kind.
FIGURES— SIMILE. 159
Examples. — A city in the rapidity of its growth, may be likened to Jonah's
gourd. Milton, describing the sudden erection of the huge fabric in Pande-
monium, says, it " rose like an exhalation." A great warrior may be compared
to a thunderbolt, or to a desolating tornado; a sage, to a pillar of state. In each
of these cases, there is a legitimate simile, because there is a likeness of some
sort between the objects compared, and at the same time the objects themselves
are different in kind.
The principal Kules to be observed in regard to the use of Similes
are the following :
Kule 1. Similes should not be drawn from things which
have too near and obvious a resemblance to the object com-
pared.
Effect of Surprise. — One great pleasure of the act of comparing
lies in discovering likenesses where at the first glance we should not
expect to find them. The simile in such cases gives us the pleasure
of an agreeable surprise.
Examples. — Lover says, of a small, swarthy woman, " She 's as short and
as dark as a mid-winter day." Milton's comparisons nearly always have this
quality of giving a surprise, besides that of filling the mind with ideas of majesty
and grandeur. To give us some idea of the countless number of the fallen host,
he says, they
"Lay entranced
Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks
In Vallombrosa."
Satan's imperial ensign, " full high advanced, shone like a meteor, streaming
to the wind." Satan's own appearance, after his fall, is compared to that of the
sun suffering an eclipse, and shedding disastrous twilight on the nations.
In all these examples, the reader, on recognizing the likeness, feels as though
he had made an unexpected and delightful discovery. Milton's comparisons
of Eve's bower in Paradise to the arbor of Pomona, and of Eve herself to a wood-
nymph, are considered less happy, as no great ingenuity is required to imagine
one arbor like another arbor, or one beautiful woman like another beautiful
woman.
Trite Similes.— Many similes, which were good enough when first used, are
no longer available, because they have become trite and commonplace by fre-
quent use. Such similes are those comparing a hero to a lion, a mourner to a
flower drooping its head, passion to a tempest, and so on.
Rule 2. Similes should not be drawn from objects in which
the likeness is too faint and remote.
Such similes are said to be far-fetched.
Examples. — Some of the older poets erred frequently in this line. Thus
Cowley, speaking of a friend, says that at night before retiring to sleep he washed
160 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
away from his soul by tears all the stains it had received during the day, as the
sun sets in water [the ocean] and is thereby kept unsullied.
"Still with his soul severe account he kept,
Weeping all debts out ere he slept;
Then down in peace and innocence he lay,
Like the sun's laborious light,
Which still in water sets at night,
Unsullied with the journey of the day."
By a good deal of study and thought we can trace here some resemblance be-
tween the two objects compared, that is, the man lying down at night bathed in
tears, and the sun setting in the ocean ; but the resemblance is faint, and requires
entirely too much study. The simile is far-fetched.
It is worse even than this. There is absolute falsehood in the figure. The
author states as a fact that the sun purges itself in the water, and this falsehood
disappoints and vexes the reader.
An example of more recent date is the following from Longfellow :
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wing of night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
Rule 3. Similes should not be drawn from objects with
which ordinary readers are unacquainted.
What is Excluded. — This rule excludes comparisons founded on
scientific discoveries, or on objects with which persons of a certain
trade only, or a certain profession, are conversant. In accordance
with this rule, also, it is well to avoid drawing comparisons from
ordinary objects in foreign countries, with which most readers are
acquainted by reading only.
Further Cautions.— There are indeed certain noted objects, such as the
Pyramids, the Alps, the Nile, the Tiber, Rome, Jerusalem, London, and so forth,
with which well-read people everywhere are familiar. But, as a general thing,
writers should take their illustrations from objects which exist in their own
country, and which they and their readers have seen. It is well enough for
English poets to sing of the nightingale, whose high note is heard from the
boughs in the stillness of midnight, and of the sky-lark, which at '* break of day
sings hymns at heaven's gate ; " but American poets and readers know nothing
of either except from books.
Rule 4. Similes should not, in serious discourse, be drawn
from objects which are mean or low.
This rule does not apply to Burlesque, or to writings intended to
degrade and vilify. In such writings, the very aim of the author is
to bring an object into ridicule or contempt, by associating it in the
FIGURES— SIMILE. 1G1
mind with something mean or ridiculous. But in ordinary discourse,
the aim is just the opposite, and care should be taken accordingly
that the objects to which anything is compared should not only
possess a likeness to it, but that they should be of a pleasing and
elevating character.
Examples.— There may be truth in the following comparison from Pope, but
the simile offends the reader, because it associates the name of a great and good
man with a mean and degrading idea :
Superior beings, when of late they saw
A mortal man unfold all nature's law,
Admired such wisdom in an earthly shape,
And showed a Newton as we show an ape.
The two following examples may perhaps be allowable, because the aim of
the writer is to belittle the subject :
" Mr. would be a powerful preacher if he did not drown his thought in a
Dead Sea of words. You don't want a drove of oxen to drag a cart-load of po-
tatoes over a smooth road."
" Skepticism in an honest and thoughtful young man is like the chicken-pox,
—very apt to come, but not dangerous, and soon over, leaving both complexion
and constitution as good as ever."
Rule 5. Similes should not be drawn from great or sub-
lime objects, when we are describing what is low or trivial.
Such comparisons may be proper in mock-heroic, or burlesque,
but not in serious composition.
A popular orator, speaking of one of our common anniversary-days, uses the
following language : " Pharos of the ages, we hail thy glimmerings 'mid the
cataracts of Time."
Rule 6. Similes are inappropriate when strong passion is
to be expressed.
To pause for the purpose of hunting up curious likenesses and
comparisons, implies leisure and deliberation ; and passion, just in
proportion to its force, is unhesitating and rapid. It has no leisure
to cast about for resemblances.
The hero in Addison's Cato, in a moment of violent anguish at the separation
from his lady-love, makes the following elaborate comparison, which, under the
circumstances, cannot be regarded otherwise than as affected :
Thus o'er the dying lamp th' unsteady flame
Hangs quiv'ring on a point, leaps off by fits,
And falls again, as loth to quit its hold.
Thou must not go ; my soul still hovers o'er thee,
And can't get loose.
14* L '
162 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
H. METAPHOR.
Metaphor is a figure founded upon the resemblance which
one object bears to another. Hence it is nearly allied to
Simile. A metaphor is, indeed, a sort of abridged simile.
Difference between Metaphor and Simile. — If we say of a great
statesman, " He upholds the state, like the pillar which upholds an
edifice," we make the comparison by a Simile. If we say of him,
" He is the pillar of the state," we make the same comparison by a
Metaphor. In simile, the comparison is usually expressed by like,
as, such as, or words of similar import. In metaphor, the compari-
son, if made at all, is not formally expressed in words. One object
is assumed to be so like another, that things properly belonging
to the one are attributed to the other, without stopping to draw a
formal comparison between them — without, in fact, stopping to
think whether such a likeness exists or not. If the metaphor
expresses, or even suggests comparison, that metaphor is faulty.
Not that a metaphor may not be taken to pieces, and be shown to
owe its existence, to comparison ; but it should not, at first sight,
suggest comparison. The figure should be so involved in the sub-
ject that you can hardly pull the two apart. In simile, on the
contrary, the subject and the figure are but Siamese twins ; a whip
of the knife, and the two are divided, without damage to either.
Effectiveness of Metaphor. — The metaphor is a more lively and
animated method than the simile for expressing comparison. Meta-
phor, indeed, of all the figures, comes nearest to painting, enabling
us to clothe at will the most abstract ideas with life, form, color, and
motion, and to " give to airy nothing a local habitation and a name."
A few examples will show how much more condensed and effec-
tive the metaphor is than the simile.
Simile: As it is a flattering condescension when the eye of a sovereign rests
upon a subject, so it is when the light of the morning sun first falls upon the
mountain-tops. As an image of burnished gold, when brought within kissing
distance of any dull objects, lights ihem up with its own shining radiance,
making them also look like gold, so the morning rays of the sun, after first
touching the mountain-tops, descend gradually to the valleys, lighting up the
green meadows and the pale streams, as with some heavenly gilding.
Metaphor:
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
FkUUr the mountain-top with sorran eye,
FIG URES— METAPHOR. 163
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy. — Shakespeare.
Simile : As, in passing through a prism, beams of white light are decomposed
into the colors of the rainbow ; so, in traversing the soul of the poet, the color-
less rays of truth are transformed into bright-tinted poetry.
Metaphor: The white light of truth, in traversing the many-sided transpar-
ent soul of the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry.— Herbert Spencer.
Simile: The temper of the nation, loaded already with grievances, was like a
vessel that is now full, and this additional provocation, like the last drop infused,
made their rage and resentment as waters of bitterness overflow.
Metaphor: The vessel was now full, and this last drop made the waters of
bitterness overflow.— Bolingbroke.
Kules for Simile and for Metaphor. — The rules which have been
given in regard to the Simile apply in some measure to the Meta-
phor also. Metaphors ordinarily should not be drawn from things
having too near and obvious a resemblance, from things in which
the likeness is too faint or remote, from things with which ordinary
readers are unacquainted, from objects mean and low, or from ob-
jects too far above that which they are intended to illustrate.
Metaphors, however, are often used for the expression of strong
passion, and in tins respect differ materially from similes. Meta-
phor, being an abbreviated simile, suits very well the rapid vehe-
mence of passion.
Examples of this abound in Shakespeare. No portions of his plays so teem
with metaphor as those most highly tragical. The Bastard in King John, seeing
Hubert take up the body of the murdered Prince, exclaims,
How easy dost thou take all England up!
When the assassin discloses to the Prince the red-hot iron, and declares that he
has come to burn out the Prince's eyes therewith, Arthur begs him not to be
more cruel than even the instrument of torture :
The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench his fiery indignation
Even in the matter of mine innocence.
As the rules relating especially to the Simile illustrate to some
extent the Metaphor, so also the rules relating especially to the
Metaphor illustrate to some extent the use of the Simile. The
rules which more particularly limit the use of the Metaphor are the
folio winsr :
164 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Rule 1. The metaphorical and the literal should not be
mixed in the same sentence.
Bale Explained. -A metaphor having been introdnced into a sen-
tence, all parts of the sentence should be made to conform to the
figure thus introduced. This rule is violated when part of the
words are such as apply to the figure, and part are plain and literal.
Examples.— Dryden says, speaking of the aids he had had in some of his
literary labors, " I was sailing in a vast ocean [metaphor], without other help than
the pole-star [metaphor continued] of the ancients, and the rules of the French stage
[literal] among the moderns."
In Pope's translation of Homer, Penelope, speaking of the loss of her husband,
and then of the abrupt departure of her son, says :
Long to my joys my dearest lord is lost,
His country's buckler, and the Grecian boast;
Now, from my fond embrace by tempests torn,
Our other column [met.] of the state is borne,
Nor took a kind adieu, nor sought consent.
Here her son is figured in one line as a column, and in the next he is a person,
to whom it belongs to take adieu, and to ask consent. This is incongruous. It
is mixing up the metaphorical and the literal in the same construction. Having
spoken of Telemachus under the metaphor of a column, the author should not
have ascribed to him in that sentence anything but what could be ascribed to a
column.
" Boyle was the father of Chemistry, and brother to the Earl of Cork."
To thee the world its present homage pays,
The harvest [met.] early, but mature [met.] the praise [lit.].
The fault here is not serious. Yet every reader feels that but for the sake of a
rhyme, the second line would have ended " mature the crop."
Examples of Correct Metaphor. — The following are examples of
sentences in which the language of the metaphor is sustained and
consistent throughout :
Speaking of the king's honor: "The feather that adorns the royal bird sup-
ports his flight. Strip him of his plumage, and you fix him to the earth."—
Junius.
"In the shipwreck of the state, trifles float and are preserved; while every-
thing solid and valuable sinks to the bottom, and is lost forever." — Junius.
Of a hero: "In peace, thou art the gale of spring; in war, the mountain
storm." — Ossian.
Of a woman: "She was covered with the light of beauty ; but her heart was
the bearer of pride." — Ossian.
"Trothal went forth with the stream of his people, but they met a rock : for
Fingal stood unmoved ; broken, they rolled back from his side." — Oman.
FIGURES— METAPHOR. 165
Speaking of an artist :
" You make him but the spigot of a cask,
Round which you, teachers, wait with silver cups
To bear away the wine that leaves it dry." —Holland's Kathrina.
Rule 2. Two different metaphors should not be used in
the same sentence and in reference to the same subject.
This produces what is called mixed metaphor, and is a worse fault
even than mixing the metaphorical and the literal in the same sen-
tence.
Examples. — Shakespeare's expression, "To take arms against a sea of trou-
bles" is open to criticism on this ground. Addison says :
"I bridle in my struggling muse with pain,
That longs to launch into a bolder strain." •
The muse, figured as a horse, maybe " bridled ; " but when we speak of " launch-
ing," we make it a ship. The author bridles it to keep it from launching !
In religious discourse people are apt to use Scripture metaphors in a careless
way. The following curious jumble once took place : A man prayed that " the
word which had been preached might be like a nail driven in a sure place, send-
ing its roots downward and its branches upward, spreading itself like a green
bay-tree, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with ban-
ners!"
Observe the mixing of metaphors in the following passages : " The shot of the
enemy mowed down our ranks with frightful rapidity. On every hand men and
horses lay in universal carnage, like scattered wrecks on a storm-beaten shore."
" His thoughts soared up from earth like fire and winged their flight to distant
stars."
" Traitors may talk of England going down
(In quicksands that their coward selves have sown) —
She swims in hearts like these ! "—Gerald Massey.
Here, in three short lines, we have bad grammar (" England going down " ; it
should be " England's going down"), bad rhyme ("down" and "sown"), bad
metaphors (England swimming in hearts ! and sowing " quicksands " — he might
as well have talked of sowing batter-pudding!) and lastly, very commonplace
thought as the basis of the whole.
Rule 3. Metaphors on the same subject should not be
crowded together in rapid succession.
Explanation. — Though the figure in each case may he distinct
and consistently carried out, yet the mind, having in quick succes-
sion to conceive the subject, first in its literal sense, then in a figura-
tive sense, and then again in still another figure, becomes confused.
Example. — Swift says, " Those whose minds are dull and heavy do not easily
penetrate into the folds and intricacies of an affair, and therefore can only scum
166 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
off what they find at the top." Here the mind has, first, to think of the literal
fact, namely, that dull people do not easily penetrate the difficulties of a subject ;
next, to think of this fact under the similitude of handling the outer folds of a
bale of cloth, without ever getting at the inside ; and then again to think of the
same fact under the similitude of skimming the top of some impure liquid with-
out reaching the bottom. The two metaphors, though separable, are in such
close succession that they have the effect of a mixed metaphor.
Rule 4. Metaphors should not be multiplied to excess.
Explanation. — Though the metaphors may refer to different sub-
jects, and be in different sentences, and therefore not come within
either of the two preceding rules, yet if they are greatly multiplied,
they have a confusing effect upon the mind. The variety of subjects
distracts the attention.
Excessive Use of Figures.— The effect of unduly multiplying meta-
phors is very much like that produced by being over-dressed. This
is true, not of metaphor merely, but of every kind of figure. Fig-
ures, whether for ornament or for illustration, to have their proper
effect, must be used with moderation. Really good metaphors,
occurring only here and there, at judicious intervals, and on suit-
able subjects, have a brilliant effect. But if multiplied too much,
no matter how sparkling each may be in itself, they produce only a
disagreeable glitter.
Rule 5. Metaphors should not be carried too far.
This fault is committed when the resemblance on which the meta-
phor is founded is carried out into a great many minute and irrele-
vant circumstances. This is called straining the metaphor.
Example.— Young says of old age, that it should
Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore
Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon ;
And put good works on board ; and wait the wind
That shortly blows us into worlds unknown.
The expression in the first two lines is universally admired. But when the
author begins to "put good works on board," and to "wait the wind," the
metaphor becomes strained and loses dignity. Instead of the deep emotion
excited by walking "thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore," the mind is
brought down to the prosaic and calculating operations of a seafaring enter-
prise.
FIGURES— ALLEGORY. 167
HI. ALLEGORY.
An Allegory is a description of one thing under the image
of another ; it is a sort of continued Metaphor.
Difference between Allegory and Metaphor.— Allegory differs from
Metaphor in two respects. First, it is carried out into a great
variety of particulars, making usually a complete and connected
story. Secondly, it suppresses all mention of the principal subject,
leaving us to infer the writer's intention from the resemblance of
the narrative, or of the description to the principal subject.
Points in Common.— Allegory, Metaphor, and Simile have this in
common, that they are all founded in resemblance, there being in
each case two subjects, a primary and a secondary, having certain
points of likeness. In Simile, this resemblance is expressed in form,
as when it is said, " Israel is like a vine, brought from Egypt, and
planted in Palestine." In Metaphor the formal comparison is
dropped, as when it is said, " Israel is a vine brought from Egypt,"
etc. In Allegory, both the formal comparison and the principal sub-
ject are dropped, and the secondary subject is described by itself,
leaving the application entirely to the imagination of the reader, as
when it is said, " God brought a vine out of Egypt, and planted it
in Palestine." The reader knows that by the vine is meant God's
people, Israel ; yet Israel is not once mentioned, and there is neither
metaphor nor simile, though there is a likeness.
This allegory occurs in the eightieth Psalm, and is as follows :
" Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt: thou hast cast out the heathen, and
planted it. Thou preparedst room for it, and didst cause it to take deep root, and
it filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow of it, and the boughs
thereof were like the goodly cedars. She sent out her boughs unto the sea, and
her branches unto the river. Why hast thou broken down her hedges, so that
all they which pass by the way do pluck her ? The boar out of the wood doth
waste it, and the wild beast of the field doth devour it."
Here every circumstance, except that of casting out the heathen, answers to
the description of a vine, while at the same time God's dealings with the Jewish
people, though not once named, are plainly suggested to the mind of the reader.
If the Psalmist, instead of saying that the vine was wasted by the boar from the
wood, and devoured by the wild beasts, had said that it was afiiicted by heathens,
or overcome by enemies, (which was his real meaning,) he would have spoiled
the allegory.
Allegory, Parable, and Fable are closely akin to each other, and
these terms are often interchangeable. Some distinctions between
168 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
them, however, are worthy of notice. Allegory is the only term
used in reference to extended works of this kind, such as Pilgrim's
Progress and the Faery Queen. Shorter allegorical compositions
are more frequently called Fables, or Parables, the latter term be-
ing specially used for specimens of this kind in the Holy Scriptures.
The story told by Jotham, in the ninth chapter of Judges, of the
trees choosing for themselves a king, is called a Parable. Had it
occurred in iEsop, it would have been called a Fable. None of
these distinctions, however, in regard to the allegory, the parable,
and the fable, are absolute.
Where Found. — Oriental nations are much addicted to the use of
this kind of writing, and there are many excellent instances of it
in the Bible. There are no Parables comparable for excellence to
those in the New Testament. Among the ancients the Fables of
iEsop are especially famous. The most perfect Allegory in all
literature is the Pilgrim's Progress, by Bunyan.
Eecent Example.— The following passage from a recent work,
Forbes's Travels through the Alps, is a beautiful example of Simile,
or Metaphor, extended into Allegory.
Poets and philosophers have delighted to compare the course of human life to
that of a river : perhaps a still apter simile might he found in the history of a
glacier. Heaven-descended in its origin, it yet takes its mould and conformation
from the hidden womb of the mountains which brought it forth. At first soft
and ductile, it acquires a character and firmness of its own, as an inevitable
destiny urges it in its onward career. Jostled and constrained by the crosses and
inequalities of its prescribed path, hedged in by impassable barriers which fix
limits to its movements, it yields groaning to its fate, and still travels forward,
seamed with the scars of many a conflict with opposing obstacles. All this
while, although wasting, it is renewed by an unseen power — it evaporates, but
is not consumed. On its surface it bears the spoils which, during the progress of
its existence, it has made its own;— often weighty burdens, devoid of beauty
or value,— at times precious masses, sparkling with gems or with ore. Having
at length attained its greatest width and extension, commanding admiration by
its beauty and power, waste predominates over supply, the vital springs begin to
fail ; it stoops into an attitude of decrepitude ; it drops the burdens, one by one,
which it had borne so proudly aloft ; its dissolution is inevitable. But as it is
resolved into its elements, it takes, all at once, a new, and livelier, and disem-
barrassed form : — from the wreck of its members it arises, another, and yet the
same,— a noble, full-bodied, arrowy stream, which leaps rejoicing over the ob-
stacles which before had stayed its progress, and hastens through fertile valleys
towards a freer existence, and a final union in the ocean with the boundless and
the infinite.
This figure may be open to some extent to the objection that it is
FIGURES— ANTITHESIS. 169
based upon scientific knowledge. But the description of glacial
action has occupied of late so large a place in popular literature
that the objection may be waived. The figure certainly is singu-
larly beautiful.
Rule. — The principal, almost the only rule, in regard to
Allegory, is to avoid mingling the literal signification with
the figurative.
Allegory is a very difficult kind of composition, in which few suc-
ceed. None should attempt it unless they have by nature a special
aptitude for it.
IV. ANTITHESIS.
Antithesis, unlike the figures thus far considered, is not
founded on resemblance, but on contrast or opposition. It
consists in putting two unlike things in juxtaposition, so
that each will appear more striking by the contrast.
The effect produced is in accordance with a general law of mental
action, that all objects of knowledge make a stronger impression on
the mind when presented alongside of their opposites. White never
appears so bright as when bordering immediately upon black. Sound
never seems so loud as when preceded and followed by perfect si-
lence. When, therefore, we wish to give to a thought special em-
phasis, we often do so by connecting the thought with an expression
of its opposite, or of something with which it is contrasted.
Examples of Antithesis.— ■" When our vices leave us, we flatter ourselves that
we leave them." •' The prodigal robs his heir, the miser robs himself." " If you
wish to make a man rich, study not to increase his stores, but to diminish his
desires."
Rule. — The only practical Rule in regard to Antithesis
is to give the contrasted ideas a similar verbal construction.
Let nouns be contrasted to nouns, adjectives to adjectives,
verbs to verbs, and so on, and let the arrangement of the
words in the contrasted clauses be also as nearly alike as
possible.
The reason for this rule is obvious. If two objects, one white
and one black, are placed side by side, the difference between them
15
170 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
in color will be all the more striking if the objects are in other re-
spects alike, that is, are of the same material, size, and shape. So
in composition, the point of an antithesis is made much more marked
by making the contrasted clauses closely analogous in construction.
Examples.— If you regulate your desires according to the standard of nature,
you will never be poor ; if according to the standard of opinion, you will never
be rich.
Flattery brings friends ; truth brings foes.
Forewarned, forearmed.
Enemies in war ; in peace friends.
Caution. — Antithesis must be used with caution. If employed
too frequently, it gives to the style a labored and unnatural charac-
ter, and produces the impression that an author is less concerned
with what he says than how he says it. It also makes the matter
read like a string of proverbs, which usually have the antithetical
form. This is the vice of the style of some French writers, of
Victor Hugo, for example, and of many Spanish writers.
Example— The following passage may be given as an illustration of this
fault : " The peasant complains aloud : the courtier in secret repines. In want,
what distress? in affluence, what satiety? The great are under as much diffi-
culty to expend with pleasure, as the mean to labor with success. The ignorant,
through ill-grounded hope, are disappointed ; the knowing, through knowledge,
despond. Ignorance occasions mistake ; mistake disappointment; and disap-
pointment is misery, Knowledge, on the other hand, gives true judgment ; and
true judgment of human things gives a demonstration of their insufficiency to
our peace."— Young.
Effect of such Passages. — Passages like this invariably weary the
reader. Antithesis following antithesis, sentence after sentence, has
the same effect that multiplying emphatic words has in reading or
speaking. So many things are made striking, that nothing strikes.
The following passage contains fine examples both of Antithesis
and of Metaphor :
Talent, the sunshine on a cultured soil,
Ripens the fruit by slow degrees for toil;
Genius, the sudden Iris of the skies,
On cloud itself reflects the wondrous dyes,
And to the earth in tears and glory given.
Clasps in its airy arch the pomp of heaven!
The following, from Bulwer, contains a good example both of
Antithesis and Simile:
Man. like the child, accepts the proffered boon,
And clasps the bauble, where he asked the moon.
FIGURES— EPIGRAM. 171
V. EPIGRAM.
Epigram meant originally an inscription on a monument.
As such inscriptions are usually short, containing as much
as possible in a few words, Epigram came next to mean any
brief saying, prose or poetical, remarkable for brevity and
point, and the word is even yet used largely in this sense.
Special Meaning. — There is one particular mode by which the
same startling effect is produced, and that is by a contradiction
between the form of expression and the meaning really intended.
Take the expression, "The child is father to the man." Here the
language, taken literally, contradicts itself; yet the meaning is plain
enough, and is all the more striking for being presented in this form.
The term Epigram is now sometimes used to express this particular
mode of giving brevity and point to a thought.
Relation of Epigram to Antithesis.— Epigram, in this sense, is akin
to Antithesis, because in both of these figures there is the element
of contrariety. But in Antithesis it is the contrariety between
two different things brought together; in Epigram it is the con-
trariety between the apparent meaning of the words and the real
meaning.
Examples.— The following are examples of this kind of Epigram :
Beauty, when unadorned, adorned the most.
When you have nothing to say, say it.
He is a man of principle, in proportion to his interest
Conspicuous for its absence.
We could not see the woods for the trees.
Verbosity is cured by a wide vocabulary.
So many things are striking that nothing strikes.
The easiest way of doing nothing is to do it.
Language is the art of concealing thought.
Summer has set in with its usual severity.
Epigram, in the sense above explained, consists mainly in a play
upon words, and so leads naturally to Pun, which turns entirely
upon using words in a double meaning. This will be considered in
the following chapter.
VI. METONYMY.
Metonymy means a change of name. This is a figure in
which the name of one object is put for some other object,
172 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
the two being so related that the mention of one naturally
suggests the other.
Example.— When it is said, " The drunkard loves his bottle" we know that it
is not the bottle, but what it contains, that the drunkard loves. The bottle is put
for the liquor, the container for the thing contained, and this change of name is
a Metonymy.
Metonymies are very numerous in kind, and occur more frequently
perhaps than any other figure of speech. Among the various rela-
tions which give rise to Metonymy are the following: Cause and
Effect, Subject and Attribute, Container and thing contained, Sign
and thing signified, etc.
Cause for the Effect.—" He writes a beautiful hand," that is, " hand-writing."
" I am reading Milton" that is, his works. " The pen [literature] is the great civil-
izer." In like manner, in old times, the names of the mythological deities were
put for the qualities or things which they were supposed to represent, as Bac-
chus for wine, Ceres for bread, Pallas for wisdom, Mars for war, Venus for love,
Neptune for the ocean, etc.
Effect for Cause.—'- Gray hairs [old age] should be respected." " There is death
fa death-causing thing] in the pot." " Man shall live by the sweat of his brow "
[by the labor which causes sweat upon the brow]. "Cold death" that which
makes its subject cold. " Drowsy night," that which produces drowsiness.
Container for thing contained.—" The kettle [the water in the kettle] boils."
" He keeps a good table" " They smote the city." " Ye devour widows' houses."
" The House was called to order." " He smokes his pipe."
The Sign for the thing signified .—" He assumed the sceptre" [the sover-
eignty]. " At the present day, bayonets think." " In war the bullet, in peace the
ballot rules." " The pen is mightier than the sword."
VII. SYNECDOCHE.
Synecdoche is a figure somewhat akin to Metonymy. In
Metonymy we use the name of an object to signify some
other connected object, as when we say bottle, but mean the
liquor contained in it. In Synecdoche we do not change a
name from one object to another, but we give to an object a
name which literally expresses something more or something
less than we intend.
Examples.— We speak of a sail, or of a keel, meaning thereby a whole ship.
A part is taken for a whole. We Rpeak of the world, when we mean only a cer-
tain limited portion of the people that compose the world. Here a whole is
used for a part. The word Synecdoche means comprehension, that is, including
many parti under the name of one of them, and the most common form of tho
flfure is that ilrst described, in which a part is taken for the whole, as sail for
FIGURES— INTERROGATION. 173
ship, head for person, waves for sea, blood for life, hands for workmen, lances for
horsemen, etc. "I abjure all roofs" [houses], "She has seen sixteen summers"
{ years]. " An old man of eighty winters " [years]. " The colt will be three years
old next grass" [spring]. "Thirty sail [ships] were seen off the coast." " The
snows of sixty winters [years] whitened his head."
VIII. INTERROGATION.
Interrogation Explained. — We often ask a question, not for the
purpose of getting an answer, or of receiving information, hut as a
means of expressing our own opinion more strongly. It is as much
as to say, there is but one possible answer to this question.
Example.— " Who goeth a warfare at any time at his own charges? who
planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock,
and eateth not of the milk of the flock ? " The apostle does not ask these ques-
tions for the sake of learning anything on the subject, but as an emphatic way
of saying that those who enter military or any other service expect to have at
least their expenses paid. It is a thing that admits of no question. Who ever
heard of its being otherwise?
Definition. — By Interrogation, then, as a rhetorical figure,
is meant putting our opinions in the form of questions for
the purpose thereby of expressing our views more positively
and vehemently.
Pecnliarities. — In regard to this figure two peculiarities are to be
observed. 1. A negative Interrogation affirms. "Am I not an
apostle? am I not free? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord? are
not ye my work in the Lord ? " Paul here intends to affirm these
several points as being true beyond question. 2. An affirmative
question denies. "Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? are we
stronger than He ? " This is equivalent to saying, with strong em-
phasis, "We do not provoke the Lord to jealousy; we are not
stronger than He."
" Who hath heard our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ? "
This is equivalent to saying, "No one hath heard our report; the arm of the
Lord hath not been revealed to any one." This figure is of very frequent recur-
rence in the Holy Scriptures.
IX. EXCLAMATION.
Exclamation is a figure akin to Interrogation. Instead
of stating a fact simply and calmly, the writer or speaker
utters an expression of surprise, or of emotion of some kind,
15*
174 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
on seeing that the thing is so. Exclamation, therefore, is a
figure which expresses a thing strongly by expressing emotion
on account of it.
" This is a sad event," is a plain, simple statement. " What a sad event! " is
the same thing expressed with emotion.
Cautions. — Exclamation is suitable only in cases of real emotion.
A common mistake of feeble writers is to imagine that a passage
becomes emotional by merely putting it into the form of an excla-
mation, although the thought itself is perfectly simple and common-
place. Such a use of the figure, instead of making the composition
more animated, makes it frigid. Nothing in style is so chilling as
affecting a passion which one does not feel. An author who is all
the while calling upon us to enter into transports which he says
nothing to inspire, only disgusts us.
The occasions which justify the use of Exclamation are compara-
tively rare, and writers should be correspondingly careful in resort-
ing to it. A reader, who on opening a new book sees its pages
thickly bespangled with exclamation points, is apt to lay the book
aside without further examination.
When properly used, however, this figure is one of great value
and power. Lyric and Dramatic poetry abound with examples.
"A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse !"— Richard III.
" What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ! how infinite in faculties !
in form and moving, how express and admirable ! in action, how like an angel !
in apprehension, how like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the paragon of ani-
mals !" — Hamlet.
" How is the gold become dim ! how is the most fine gold changed ! "
Jeremiah.
Hymns, being mainly expressive of emotion, abound in exclama-
tion beyond any other species of composition.
X. APOSTROPHE.
Definition. — The same excited state of feeling which causes
Exclamation leads also to Apostrophe. The word means a
turning away. It is a figure in which we turn from the
regular course of thought, and instead of continuing to speak
of an object in the third person, speak to it in the second
person.
FIG URES— PERSON IFIC A TION. 175
In Apostrophe we address the absent as though present, the in-
animate as though animate, the dead as though living.
Apostrophe indicates usually a high degree of excitement.
Thus King David, on hearing of the death of Absalom, exclaims: "O, my son
Absalom, my son, my son Absalom ! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom,
my son, my son ! " Another Apostrophe, more extended, and equally beautiful,
is the lament of David over the death of Jonathan. (2 Sam. 1 : 21-27.)
Apostrophe is not always of this passionate character. It some-
times results from an exalted state of the imagination, and in such
cases is capable of being sustained through a much longer passage
than when resulting from passionate emotion. Byron's apostrophe
to the ocean is an instance in point.
XI. PERSONIFICATION.
Personification consists in attributing life to things in-
animate.
Personification Distinguishable from Apostrophe. — Personification
and Apostrophe often go together. They are distinguishable, how-
ever. In Apostrophe, we often address things inanimate, and when
we do so, we necessarily personify them; as (Jer. 47: 6,) "O thou
sword of the Lord, how long will it be ere thou be quiet? put up
thyself into thy scabbard, rest, and be still." Here both figures
occur. The sword is at the same time addressed and personified.
But there may be Apostrophe without Personification, as in the
lament of David at the death of Absalom. The object there ad-
dressed being already a person, of course it cannot be personified.
Personification, moreover, may exist where there is no Apostrophe.
The object may be spoken of as a person, instead of being spoken
to. This kind of Personification is much the most common form of
the figure, and abounds in almost every species of composition.
" The mountains sing togetlier, the hills rejoice, and clap their hands"
When Eve plucked the forbidden fruit and ate it, Milton says :
" Earth felt the wound ; and Nature from her seat
Sighing, through all her works gave signs of woe."
Special Facilities in English. — We have in English special facili-
ties for the use of this figure, in consequence of the peculiarity of
our language in regard to gender. In most languages, masculine
176 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC
and feminine are attributed indiscriminately to animate and inani-
mate objects, to persons and to things. In Latin, for instance, the
words for ocean, river, mountain, garden, and field, are masculine ;
the words for island, tree, moon, star, night, and light, are feminine.
But in English, the masculine and feminine genders are limited to
living beings that have sex, and the masculine and feminine pronouns
are used only in reference to such beings, that is, to persons and the
more distinguished animals. Hence the use of these pronouns is
always associated with the idea of personality. In the sentence,
" Nature through all her works gave signs of woe," the feminine
pronoun gives notice \o us that Nature is personified. In this way,
by simply using the masculine and feminine pronouns in reference
to inanimate objects, we may at any time produce a lower species of
personification, and thus give a slight elevation to the style.
"The sun rose in his splendor."
"Religion sheds upon us her benign influence."
Personification is of various degrees.
The lowest form of Personification is that produced by adjectives.
In this form, the qualities of living beings are ascribed to inanimate
objects.
We speak of a raging storm, a deceitful disease, a cruel disaster, a dying lamp,
the smiling year, the thirsty ground.
A form of Personification somewhat higher than the foregoing is
that produced by verbs. In this form, inanimate objects are intro-
duced as performing the actions of living beings.
" The mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all
the trees of the field shall clap their hands." (Isa. 55 : 12.)
These two lower kinds of Personification are a species of Meta-
phor. They may be used when there is only a slight degree of
elevation above the ordinary tenor of discourse.
The third and highest form of Personification is that in which it
is combined with Apostrophe. In such a case, an inanimate object
is personified, and is at the same time addressed.
" Put on thy strength, O Zion ; put on thy beautiful garments, O Jerusalem,
the holy city." (Isa. 52: 1.)
A fine example of this occurs in Wordsworth's Song at the Feast
of Brougham Castle:
FIGURES— HYPERBOLE. 177
Armour rusting in his halls
On the blood of Clifford calls; —
"Quell the Scot," exclaims the Lance;
"Bear me to the heart of France,"
Is the longing of the Shield,
" Tell thy name, thou trembling field :
Field of death, where'er thou be,
Grace them with our victory !" etc.
This highest form of the figure should be used only in cases of
strong emotion.
XII. HYPERBOLE.
Hyperbole is exaggeration. It consists in representing
things to be either greater or less, better or worse, than they
really are. The object of Hyperbole is to make the thought
more effective by overstating it.
Not to be taken literally. — This overstatement is not intended to
be accepted as literally true, any more than metaphors and personi-
fications are to be accepted as true; but it shows that the writer or
speaker is strongly impressed with the object, and it makes thereby
a correspondingly strong impression on us.
Example* — When we read of" waves mountain high" we know that no waves
ever reached that altitude, and yet we get from the expression a better idea of
the effect of the storm upon the shipwrecked mariner than if he had stated the
exact height of the waves in feet and inches.
Caution. — In order that Hyperbole may be used with proper ef-
fect, care must be taken not to go into extravagance of expression.
In that case the effect is exactly the opposite of what the writer de-
sires. Unless the reader is prepared for the strong expressions by
what has gone before, and is himself somewhat excited, the Hyper-
bole is received as mere rant and bombast.
A Distinction is to be observed also between Hyperbole produced
by the imagination and that produced by passion. The former is
comparatively feeble and moderate. The latter admits of much
greater exaggeration in the language. A man, too, when speaking
in his own proper person, and expressing his own feelings and emo-
tions, may use much more exaggerated language than another would
in speaking of him. The language of action, in other words, may
be much stronger than the language of description. Hence Hyper-
bole is especially allowable in Dramatic poetry and in Oratory, and
M
178 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Dowhere do we find better and bolder specimens of it than in Shake-
speare.
Hyperbole is much used in burlesque. The exaggeration of what
is ludicrous in any object adds to the effect. Voltaire says very
wittily of the English, that they "gain two hours a day by clipping
words." He refers to the habit of saying can't for can not, don't
for do not, and other like abbreviations.
The Hyperbole in which school-girls indulge in common conversa-
tion might perhaps be excused as harmless trifling, did it not too
often lead to a settled habit of using language in this loose manner.
The woman continues the extravagant phrases of the girl, — is aw-
fully tired, adores sweet-potatoes, has a splendid mince-pie for
dinner, a gorgeous bonnet, a magnificent pair of gloves, and num-
berless other absurdities of the same sort.
xin. IRONY.
Irony consists in ridiculing an object under a pretence of
praising it. The language in its literal acceptation is exactly
the opposite of what the author means. The true meaning
is indicated mainly by the tone of the voice, the words being
spoken with a sneer, and hence it is sometimes called a figure
of Elocution. But there is always in such cases something
either in the construction of the sentence, or in the attendant
circumstances, to show that the words are to be taken ironi-
cally, not literally.
Irony is a very effective weapon of attack, the form of the lan-
guage being such as scarcely to admit of reply.
The Bible contains some striking examples of Irony. Job says (12: 2), "No
doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you ! " Elijah (1 Kings
17 : 27) says tauntingly to the priests of Baal, " Cry aloud : for he is a god ; either
he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth,
and must be waked ! "
Cicero calls Verres, who was notorious for his rapacity, " The upright and
honest prsetor of Sicily ! "
A common neglect in the training of children is thus ridiculed : " Although I
would have you early instil into your children's hearts the love of cruelty, yet
by no means call it by its true name, but encourage them in it under the name
of fun."
Antony's speech over the dead body of Cassar, in the play of
FIGURES— EXAMPLES. 179
Julius CaBsar, contains some of the finest specimens of Irony to
be found anywhere :
" Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,
(For Brutus is an honorable man,
So are they all, all honorable men,)
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me :
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man."
Examples for Practice.
[The passages which follow contain figures of various kinds. The student is
required first to point out and analyze the figure or figures in each passage, and
then to express the meaning in plain language without figure.]
1. Government patronage should not be so dispensed as to train
up a population to the one pursuit of boring gimlet-holes into the
treasury, and then of seeking to enlarge them, as rapidly as possible,
into auger-holes. — New- York Tribune.
2. For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to
be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven. — 2 Cor. 5 :
1-3.
3. If any man among you seemeth to be religious, and bridleth
not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is
vain. — James 1 : 26.
4. And it shall come to pass in that day that the mountains shall
drop down new wine, and the hills shall flow with milk. — Joel
3: 18.
5. Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
"Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end? — Shakespeare.
6. When Israel went out of Egypt, the house of Jacob from a
people of strange language, Judah was his sanctuary, and Israel his
dominion. The sea saw it, and fled : Jordan was driven back. The
180 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
mountains skipped like rams, and the little hills like lambs. What
aileth thee, O thou sea, that thou fleddest? thou Jordan, that thou
wast driven back ? ye mountains, that ye skipped like rams, and ye
little hills, like lambs? Tremble, thou earth, at the presence of the
Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob. — P«. 114: 1-7.
7. Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all
men.— 2 Cor. 3: 2.
8. My hopes and fears
Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge
Look down — on what? A fathomless abyss. — Young.
9. Thrice unhappy he who, being born to see things as they
might be, is schooled by circumstances to see them as people say
they are, — to read God in a prose translation. Such was Dryden's
lot, and such, for a good part of his days, it was by his own choice.
He who was of a stature to snatch the torch of life that flashes
from lifted hand to hand along the generations, over the heads
of inferior men, chose rather to be a link-boy to the stews. —
Lowell.
10. Strange cozenage! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain,
And from the dregs of life think to receive
What the first sprightly running could not give. — Dryden.
11. The "first sprightly running" of Dryden's vintage was, it
must be confessed, a little muddy, if not beery ; but if his own soil
did not produce grapes of the choicest flavor, he knew where they
were to be had ; and his product, like sound wine, grew better the
longer it stood upon the lees. — Lowell.
12. Each moment has its sickle, emulous
Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep
Strikes empires from the root: each moment plays
His little weapon in the narrower sphere
Of sweet domestic comfort, and cuts down
The fairest bloom of sublunary bliss. — Young.
13. Zeal and duty are not slow,
But on occasion's forelock watchful wait. — Milton.
14. We always feel his [Dryden's] epoch in him, that he was the
lock which let our language down from its point of highest poetry
to its level of easiest and most gentle flowing prose. — Lowell.
FIG URES— EXAMPLES. 181
15. To-day is so like yesterday, it cheats;
We take the lying sister for the same. — Young.
16. If is [Dryden's] contemporary, Dr. Heylin, said of French
cooks, that " their trade was not to feed the belly, but the palate."
Dryden was a great while in learning this secret, as available in
good writing as in cookery. He strove after it, but his thoroughly
English nature, to the last, would too easily content itself with serv-
ing up the honest beef of his thought, without regard to daintiness
or flavor in the dressing of it. Of the best English poetry, it might
be said that it is understanding aerated by imagination. In Dryden
the solid part too often refused to mix kindly with the leaven, either
remaining lumpish or rising to a hasty puffiness. — Lowell.
17. Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again;
The eternal years of God are hers;
But Error, wounded, writhes with pain,
And dies among its worshippers. — Bryant.
18. In his [Dryden's] prose you come upon passages that per-
suade you he is a poet, in spite of his verses so often turning state's
evidence against him as to convince you he is none. He is a prose-
writer, with a kind of iEolian attachment. — Lowell.
19. Hast thou no friend to set thy mind abroach?
Good sense will stagnate. Thoughts, shut up, want air,
And spoil, like bales unopened to the sun. — Young.
20. The smoothness of too many rhymed pentameters is that of
thin ice over shallow water : so long as we glide along rapidly, all
is well ; but if we dwell a moment on any one spot, we may find
ourselves knee-deep in mud. — Lowell.
21. Thought in the mine may come forth gold or dross;
When coin'd in words we know its real worth. — Young.
22. He began his dramatic career, as usual, by rowing against the
strong current of his nature, and pulled only the more doggedly the
more he felt himself swept down the stream. — Lowell.
23. Speech ventilates our intellectual fire;
Speech burnishes our mental magazine;
Brightens for ornament, and whets for use. — Young.
24. Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful jollity,
16
182 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Quibs, and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek :
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides. — Milton.
25. Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate,
All but the page prescribed their present state. — Pope.
26. I should say that Dryden is more apt to dilate our fancy than
our thought, as great poets have the gift of doing. But if he have
not the potent alchemy that transmutes the lead of our common-
place associations into gold, as Shakespeare knows how to do so
easily, yet his sense is always up to the sterling standard; and
though he has not added so much as some have done to the stock
of bullion which others afterwards coin and put in circulation, there
are few who have minted so many phrases that are still a part of
our daily currency. — Lowell.
27. The spider's most attenuated web
Is cord — is cable to man's tender tie
Of earthly bliss ; it breaks at every breeze. — Young.
28. Weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth
Finds the down-pillow hard. — Shakespeare.
29. Her tresses, loose behind,
Play on her neck, and wanton in the wind;
The rising blushes which her cheek o'erspread
Are opening roses in the lily's bed. — Gay.
30. There are whole veins of diamonds in thine eyes,
Might furnish crowns for all the queens of earth. — Bailey.
81. Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death. — Young.
32. Who builds his hope in air of your good looks,
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast;
Ready, with every nod, to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep. — Shakespeare.
33. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels,
nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to
come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to
FIGURES— EXAMPLES. 183
separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
— Romans 8 : 38, 39.
34. The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed,
Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made.
Waller.
35. I scarcely understand my own intent;
But, silk-worm like, so long within have wrought,
That I am lost in my own web of thought. — Dry den.
36. One sally of a hero's soul,
Does all the military art control.
While timorous wit goes round, or fords the shore,
He shoots the gulf, and is already o'er,
And, when the enthusiastic fit is spent,
Looks back amazed at what he underwent. — Dry den.
37. Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect? It is
God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that
died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand
of God, who also maketh intercession for us. Who shall separate us
from the love of Christ ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution,
or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword ? — Romans 8 : 33-35.
38. Our Garrick's a salad, for in him we see
Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree.
39. Words are the common property of all men, yet from words
those architects of immortality pile up temples that shall outlive
pyramids: the leaf of the papyrus shall become a Shinar, stately
with towers, round which the Deluge of ages roars in vain.
40. And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room,
Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing;
But like a mole in earth, busy and blind,
Works all her folly up and casts it outward
In the world's open view. — Dry den.
41. But after all, he [Dryden] is best upon a level, — table-land,
it is true, and a very high level, but still somewhere between the
loftier peaks of inspiration and the plain of every-day life. — Lowell.
42. Of no distemper, of no blast he died,
But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long,
E'en wondered at because he dropt no sooner;
Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years;
184 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more,
Till, like a clock worn out with eating Time,
The wheels of weary life at last stood still. — Lh'yden,
43. For I am now so sunk from what I was,
Thou find'st me at my lowest water-mark.
The rivers that ran in and raised my fortunes
Are all dried up, or take another course ;
What I have left is from my native spring;
I 've a heart still that swells in scorn of Fate,
And lifts me to my banks. — Dry den.
44. Canst thou draw out leviathan with a hook? or his tongue
with a cord which thou lettest down? Canst thou put a hook in his
nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn ? will he make many
supplications unto thee? will he speak soft words unto thee? will
he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for-
ever? wilt thou play with him as with a bird? or wilt thou bind
him for thy maidens? shall the companions make a banquet of him?
shall they part him among the merchants? canst thou fill his skin
with barbed irons? or his head with fish-spears? — Job 41 : 1-7.
45. I do not like to say it, but he has sometimes smothered the
child-like simplicity of Chaucer under feather-beds of verbiage. —
Lowell.
4G. His [Dryden's] phrase is always a short-cut to his sense, for his
estate was too spacious for him to need that trick of winding the
path of his thought about, and planting it out with clumps of epithet
by which the landscape-gardeners of literature give to a paltry half-
acre the air of a park. — Lowell.
47. If circumstances could ever make a great national poet, here
were all the elements mingled at melting-heat in the alembic, and
the lucky moment of projection was clearly come. — Lowell.
48. Above all, we may esteem it lucky that he [Shakespeare] found
words ready to his use, original and untarnished, — types of thought,
whose sharp edges were unworn by repeated impressions. — Lowell.
49. There is much that is deciduous in books, but all that gives
them a title to rank as literature in the highest sense is perennial. —
Lowell.
50. Am I not an apostle ? am I not free ? have I not seen Jesus
Christ our Lord ? are not ye ray work in the Lord ? have wo not
FIGURES— EXAMPLES. 185
power to eat and to drink ? have we not power to lead about a sister,
a wife, as well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the Lord,
and Cephas? Or I only and Barnabas, have not we power to forbear
working? Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges? who
planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who
feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock ? Say I these
things as a man, or saith not the law the same also ? — ICor. 9 : 1-8.
51. Still thy love, O Christ arisen,
Yearns to reach these souls in prison:
Through all depths of sin and loss
Drops the plummet of thy Cross!
Never yet abyss was found
Deeper than that Cross could sound.
52. There are some thinkers about whom we always feel easy,
because they never have a thought of sufficient magnitude to be
made uncomfortable by its possession.
53. Save me, O God ! for the waters are come into my soul. I
sink in deep mire, where there is no standing : I am come into deep
waters, where the floods overflow me. — Ps. 69 : 1, 2.
54. As smoke is driven away, so drive them away: as wax melteth
before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God. —
Ps. 68 : 2.
55. We do not mean what is technically called a living language, —
the contrivance, hollow as a speaking-trumpet, by which breathing
and moving bipeds, even now, sailing o'er life's solemn main, are
enabled to hail each other and make known their mutual shortness
of mental stores, — but one that is still hot from the hearts and
brains of a people, not hardened yet, but moltenly ductile to new
shapes of sharp and clear relief in the moulds of new thoughts. —
Lowell.
56. What was of greater import, no arbitrary line had been drawn
between high words and low ; vulgar then meant simply what was
common ; poetry had not been aliened from the people by the estab-
lishment of an Upper House of vocables, alone entitled to move in
the stately ceremonials of verse, and privileged from arrest while
they forever keep the promise of meaning to the ear and break it to
the sense. — Lowell.
57. I by no means intend to say that he [Shakespeare] did not
enrich it [the language], or that any inferior man could have dipped
16*
186 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
the same words out of the great poet's inkstand. But lie enriched
it only by the natural expansion and exhilaration of which it was
conscious, in yielding to the mastery of a genius that could turn and
wind it like a fiery Pegasus, making it feel its life in every limb. —
Lowell.
58. As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my
soul after thee, O God. — Pa. 42 : 1.
59. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and
having on the breast-plate of righteousness, and your feet shod with
the preparation of the gospel of peace ; above all, taking the shield
of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of
the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of
the Spirit, which is the word of God. — Ephes. 6: 14-17.
60. Scarce one [commentator on Shakespeare] but thought he could
gauge like an ale-firkin that intuition whose edging shallows may
have been sounded, but whose abysses, stretching down amid the
sunless roots of Being and Consciousness, mock the plummet. —
Lowell.
61. The Gothic Shakespeare often superimposed upon the slender
column of a single word, that seems to twist under it, but does not,
— like the quaint shafts in cloisters, — a weight of meaning which
the modern architects of sentences would consider wholly unjustifi-
able by correct principle. — Lowell.
62. His [Wordsworth's] longer poems are Egyptian sand-wastes,
with here and there an oasis of exquisite greenery, a grand image
Sphinx-like, half buried in drifting commonplaces, or the solitary
Pompey's Pillar of some towering thought. — Lowell.
63. Her angel's face,
As the great eye of heaven, shined bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place;
Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace. — Spenser.
64. "Who has so succeeded in imitating him [Shakespeare] as to
remind us of him by even so much as the gait of a single verse?
Those magnificent crystallizations of feeling and phrase, basaltic
masses, molten and interfused by the primal fires of passion, are not
to be reproduced by the slow experiments of the laboratory striving
to parody creation with artifice. — Lowell.
65. Love is the ladder on which we climb
To a likeness with God.
FIG URES— EXAMPLES. 187
66. Onions that should water this grief. — Shakespeare.
67. I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the water infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep,
When wondered at for smiling. — Mrs. Browning.
68. Shakespeare does not always speak in that intense way that
flames up in Lear and Macbeth through the rifts of a soil volcanic
with passion. He allows us here and there the repose of a common-
place character, the consoling distraction of a humorous one. He
knows how to be equable and grand without effort, so that we
forget the altitude of thought to which he has led us, because the
slowly receding slope of a mountain stretching downward by ample
gradations gives a less startling impression of height than to look
over the edge of a ravine that makes but a wrinkle in its flank. —
Lowell.
69. The language [in Shakespeare's time] was still fresh from those
sources at too great a distance from which it becomes fit only for
the service of prose. Wherever he dipped, it came up clear and
sparkling, undefiled as yet by the drainage of literary factories, or
of those dye-houses where the machine-woven fabrics of sham cul-
ture are colored up to the last desperate style of sham sentiment. —
Lowell.
70. With Shakespeare the plot is an interior organism, in Jonson
an external contrivance. It is the difference between man and tor-
toise. In the one the osseous structure is out of sight, indeed, but
sustains the flesh and blood that envelop it, while the other is boxed
up and imprisoned in his bones. — Lowell.
71. The mountains saw thee, and they trembled: the overflow-
ing of the water passed by : the deep uttered his voice, and lifted up
his hands on high. — HdbaTchuh 3 : 10.
72. The depth saith, It is not in me : and the sea saith, It is not
with me.— Job 28 : 14.
73. In truth, we are under a deception similar to that which mis-
leads the traveller in the Arabian desert. Beneath the caravan, all
is dry and bare ; but far in advance, and far in the rear, is the sem-
blance of refreshing waters. The pilgrims hasten forward, and find
nothing but sand where, an hour before, they had seen a lake.
188 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
They turn their eyes, and see a lake where, an hour before, they
were toiling through sand. — Macaulay.
74. For weeks the clouds had raked the hills
And vexed the vales with raining,
And all the woods were sad with mist,
And all the brooks complaining.
At last, a sudden night-storm tore
The mountain-veils asunder,
And swept the valleys clean before
The besom of the thunder. — Whittier.
75. In such slipshod housekeeping men are their own largest
creditors; they find it easy to stave off utter bankruptcy of con-
science by taking up one unpaid promise with another larger, and at
heavier interest, till such self-swindling becomes habitual and by
degrees almost painless. How did Coleridge discount his own notes
of this kind with less and less specie as the figures lengthen on the
paper ! — Lowell.
76. [Such characters] cannot determine on any course of action,
because they are always, as it were, standing at the cross-roads, and
see too well the disadvantages of every one of them. It is not that
they are incapable of resolve, but somehow the band between the
motive power and the operative faculties is relaxed and loose. The
engine works, but the machinery it should drive stands still. —
Lowell.
77. Horatio is the only complete man in the play — solid, well-
knit, and true ; a noble, quiet nature, with that highest of all qual-
ities, judgment, always sane and prompt; who never drags his
anchors for any wind of opinion or fortune, but grips all the closer
to the reality of things. — Lowell.
78. Hamlet is continually drawing bills on the future, secured by
his promise of himself to himself, which he can never redeem. —
Lowell.
79. I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams
Tumultuous, where my wreck'd, desponding thought
From wave to wave of fancied misery
At random drove, her helm of reason lost. — Young,
80. Night,
E'en in the zenith of her dark domain,
Is sunshine to the color of my fate.— Young,
FIGURES— EX A MPL ES. 189
81. Deep on his front engraven
Deliberation sat, and public care. — Milton.
82. Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written tablets of the brain;
Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart? — Shakespeare.
83. Let come what will, I mean to bear it out,
And either live with glorious victory,
Or die with fame, renowned for chivalry.
He is not worthy of the honey-comb,
That shuns the hive because the bees have stung.
Shakespeare.
84. My May of life
Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf. — Shakespeare.
85. 'T is with our judgments as our watches : none
Are just alike, yet each believes his own. — Pope.
86. Self is the medium least refined of all,
Through which opinion's searching beams can fall;
And, passing there, the clearest, steadiest ray
Will tinge its light, and turn its line astray. — Moore.
87. His tongue
Dropp'd manna, and could make the worst appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels. — Milton.
88. Here rills of oily eloquence in soft
Meanders lubricate the course they take. — Cowper.
89. Oh! as the bee upon the flower, I hang
Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue. — Bulwer.
90. 'Tis an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery 's the fool of fools ;
Yet now and then your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit. — Swift.
91. I've touched the highest point of all my greatness;
And from the full meridian of my glory
I haste now to my setting. — Shakespeare.
92. Of praise a mere glutton, he swallowed what came,
And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame;
190 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Till, his relish grown callous almost to disease,
Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please. — Goldsmith.
93. She looks as clear
As morning roses, newly washed in dew. — Shakespeare.
94. Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. — Milton.
95. He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack,
For he knew when he wished he could whistle them back.
Goldsmith.
96. Love is a sudden blaze which soon decays;
Friendship is like the sun's eternal rays;
Not daily benefits exhaust the flame :
It still is giving, and still burns the same. — Gay.
97. Friendship is not a plant of hasty growth,
Though planted in esteem's deep fixed soil;
The gradual culture of kind intercourse
Must bring it to perfection. — Joanna Baillie.
98. There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them as we will. — Shakespeare.
99. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm;
Tho' round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head. — Goldsmith.
100. To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes. — Gray.
101. He, who ascends to mountain-tops shall find
Their loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He, who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below.
Tho' far above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,
Round him are icy-rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests on his naked head. — Byron.
102. Whose game was empires, and whose stakes were thrones,
Whose table earth, whose dice were human bones. — Byron.
103. How oft when Paul has served us with a text,
Has Plato, Tully, Epictetus preached.
104. Ocean into tempest wrought,
To waft a feather or to drown a fly. — Young.
FIGURES— EXAMPLES, 191
105. O life, O poetry,
Which means life — life! cognizant of life
Beyond this blood-beat, — passionate for truth
Beyond these senses, — poetry, my life —
My eagle, with both grappling feet still hot
From Zeus's thunder, who has ravished me
Away from all the shepherds, sheep, and dogs,
And set me in the Olympian roar and round
Of luminous faces, for a cup-bearer,
To keep the mouths of all the godheads moist
For everlasting laughter — I, myself,
Half drunk, across the beaker, with their eyes!
How those gods look ! — Mrs. Browning..
106. Presence of mind is greatly promoted by absence* of body.
107. My life is a wreck. I drift before the chilling blasts of ad-
versity ; friends, home, wealth — I 've lost them all.
108. If in the morn of life, you remember God, he will not forget
you in your old age.
109. Born, lived, and died, sum up the great epitome of man.
110. Turn it, and twist it as much as you can,
She will still be double you [W] O man.
111. Men dying make their wills, but wives
Escape a task so sad;
Why should they make what all their lives
The gentle dames have had?
112. If you blow your neighbor's fire, don't complain if the sparks
fly in your face.
113. O earth, so full of dreary noises !
O men, with wailing in your voices!
O delved gold, the wailers' heap !
O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall!
God makes a silence through you all,
And " giveth his beloved sleep." — Mrs. Browning,
114. O dark and cruel deep, reveal
The secret that thy waves conceal !
And ye wild sea-birds hither wheel
And tell it me.
115. I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep thro' her marble halls,
192 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls. — Longfellow.
116. May slighted woman turn,
And as the vine the oak has shaken off,
Bend lightly to the leaning trust again? — Willis.
117. O'erhead the countless stars
Like eyes of love were beaming,
Underneath the weary earth
All breathless lay a-dreaming.
The fox-glove shoots out the green matted heather,
And hangeth her hoods of snow,
She was idle and slept till the sunshiny weather,
But children take longer to grow. — Jean Ingelow.
118. Thoughts which fix themselves deep in the heart as meteor
stones in earth, dropped from some higher sphere.
119. When descends on the Atlantic
The gigantic
Storm-wind of the Equinox,
Landward in his wrath he scourges ■
The toiling surges
Laden with sea-weeds from the rocks. — Longfellow,
120. What has the gray -haired prisoner done?
Has murder stained his hands with gore?
Not so, his crime is a fouler one:
God made the old man poor!
For this he shares a felon's cell,
The fittest earthly type of hell:
For this, the boon for which he poured
His young blood on the invader's sword,
And counted life the fearful cost,
His blood-gained liberty is lost.
121. They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge
our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error. Yes, they will
give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the
slaves of passion, avarice, and pride.
122. Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head? — Shakespeare.
FIGURES— EXAMPLES. 193
123. Flowers are stars, wherein wondrous truths are made
manifest.
124. The twilight hours like birds flew by,
As lightly and as free;
Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
Ten thousand in the sea:
For every wave with dimpled cheek
That leaped upon the air,
Had caught a star in its embrace,
And held it trembling there.
125. Humor runs through his speeches like violets in a harvest-
field, giving sweet odor and beauty to his task when he stoops to
put in the sickle.
126. Ignorance is the curse of God, knowledge the wing where-
with we fly to heaven. — Shakespeare.
1271 A blind man is a poor man, and blind a poor man is ; for
the former seeth no man, and the latter no man sees.
128. Reflected in the lake, I love
To see the stars of evening glow,
So tranquil in the heavens above,
So restless in the wave below.
Thus heavenly hope is all serene,
But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,
Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene,
As false and fleeting as 'tis fair. — Heber.
129. Night dropped her sable curtain down, and pinned it with a star.
130. The conscious water saw its Lord, and blushed.
131. The aspen heard them, and she trembled.
132. And silence, like a poultice, comes
To heal the blows of sound. — Holmes.
133. Her hair drooped down her pallid cheeks,
Like sea-weed on a clam. — Holmes.
134. "We [alumni] leave, like those volcanic stones, our precious
Alma Mater,
But will keep dropping in again to see the dear old crater.
Holmes,
135. Prologues in metre are to other pros
As worsted stockings are to engine-hose. — Holmes.
17 N
194 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
136. To thee it [death] is not
So much even as the lifting of a latch;
Only a step into the open air
Out of a tent already luminous
With light that shines through its transparent walls.
Longfellow.
137. The burnished dragon-fly is thine attendant,
And tilts against the field,
And down the listed sunbeam rides, resplendent
With steel-blue mail and shield. — Longfellow.
138. The familiar lines
Are footpaths for the thoughts of Italy.
Longfellow^ Ode to Dante.
139. And under low brows, black with night,
Rayed out at times a dangerous light,
The sharp heat-lightning of her face. — Whittier.
140. It is nothing like the grave irony of Socrates, which was the
weapon of a man thoroughly in earnest, — the boomerang of argu-
ment, which one throws in the opposite direction of what he means
to hit, and which seems to be flying away from the adversary, who
will presently find himself knocked down by it. — Lowell.
141. And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away. — Longfellow.
142. He is a close observer, continually analyzing his own nature
and that of others, letting fall his little drops of acid irony on all who
come near him, to make them show what they are made of. —
Lowell.
143. The day is done ; and slowly from the scene
The stooping sun upgathers his spent shafts,
And puts them back into his golden quiver. — Longfellow.
144. The perpetual silt of some one weakness, the eddies of a sus-
picious temper depositing their one impalpable layer after another,
may build up a shoal on which an heroic life and otherwise mag-
nanimous nature may bilge and go to pieces. — Lowell.
145. The consecrated chapel on the crag,
And the white hamlet gathered round its base,
Like Mary sitting at her Saviour's feet,
And looking up at his beloved face ! — Longfellow.
FIG URES— EXAMPLES. 195
146. Shakespeare did not mean his great tragedies for scare-
crows, as if the nailing of one hawk to the barn-door would prevent
the next coming down souse into the hen-yard. No, it is not the
poor bleaching victim hung up to moult its draggled feathers in the
rain that he wishes to show us. He loves the hawk-nature as well
as the hen-nature ; and if he is unequalled in anything it is in that
sunny breadth of view, that impregnability of reason, that looks
down upon all ranks and conditions of men, all fortune and misfor-
tune, with the equal eye of the pure artist. — Lowell.
147. There through the long, bright mornings we remained,
Watching the noisy ferry-boat that plied
Like a slow shuttle through the sunny warp
Of threaded silver from a thousand brooks,
That took new beauty as it wound away. — Holland.
148. If, as poets are wont to whine, the outward world was cold
to him [Shakespeare], its biting air did but trace itself in loveliest
frostwork of fancy on the many windows of that self-centred and
cheerful soul. — Lowell.
149. As from a deep, dead sea, by drastic lift
Of pent volcanic fires, the dripping form
Of a new island swells to meet the air,
And, after months of idle basking, feels
The prickly feet of life from countless germs
Creeping along its sides, and reaching up
In fern and flower to the life-giving sun,
So from my grief I rose, and so at length
I felt new life returning: so I felt
The life already wakened stretching forth
To stronger light and purer atmosphere. — Holland.
150. When once the shrinking, dizzy spell was gone,
I saw below me, like a jewelled 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. — Holland.
196 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
151. In our school-books we say,
Of those that held their heads above the crowd,
They flourished then or there: but life in him
Could scarce be said to flourish, only touch'd
On such a time as goes before the leaf,
When all the wood stands in a mist of green,
And nothing perfect. — Tennyson.
152. We are puppets, Man in his pride, and Beauty fair in her
flower :
Do we move ourselves, or are moved by an unseen hand, at
a game
That pushes us off from the board, and others ever succeed ?
Tennyson.
CHAPTER V.
SPECIAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE.
A Comparison. — Rhetoric has sometimes been compared to archi-
tecture. In this comparison, words are the materials of which a
structure is composed, sentences are the finished walls, and figures
the ornaments. Each of these topics has now been made the sub-
ject of a chapter, under the several heads of Diction, Sentences,
and Figures.
The Comparison Continued. — The comparison may be carried one
step farther. While the points thus far named belong to all build-
ings, buildings themselves are classified according to their, several
styles of architecture, and according to the uses for which they are
intended. One is massive and stern, another light and graceful;
one is Grecian, another Gothic ; one is a temple for divine worship,
or a hall for legislation, another is only a private mansion. Archi-
tecture, in other words, has its styles suited to its several occasions,
though in every style all the points thus far noticed are necessary.
Every building, that has a claim to be architectural at all, neces-
sarily supposes materials, walls, and means of ornament. But
beyond this, buildings rapidly diverge, and each has something
peculiar to itself which others have not.
How Applied to Rhetoric. — So it is in Rhetoric. Every kind of
composition requires words, sentences, and figures. The discussion
of these involves what may be called the general properties of style,
that is, those which belong to every species of composition. But
beyond this, works have special peculiarities. Some works are sub-
lime, some are beautiful, some witty, some humorous. This gives
rise to what may be called the special properties of style.
17 * 197
198 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
The Special Properties of Style form the next topic of dis-
cussion. They will be considered under the following heads:
Sublimity, Beauty, Wit, and Humor.
I. SUBLIMITY.
The highest commendation that can be given to any piece
of composition, is to say that it is sublime. Sublimity, there-
fore, is a quality of style which deserves special study. It is
important to determine with some particularity both what it
is, and how it is to be attained.
I. What Constitutes Sublimity.
How we get the Idea. — The easiest way of getting a clear idea of
Sublimity, as applied to what is written or spoken, is first to notice
what is sublime in other things. The feeling of Sublimity, as a
mental emotion, is perfectly simple, and, like all simple states of the
mind, incapable of definition. All we know of the matter, on the
final analysis, isr that in certain situations the mind experiences a
peculiar elevation, of a pleasurable kind, and that to this mental
state we give the name of the Sublime.
Two Senses of the Word. — This term, the Sublime, or Sublimity, is
applied sometimes to the objects which produce the feeling, some-
times to the feeling itself. Thus we may say, "Niagara is a wonder-
ful instance of the sublime," " Sublimity is the chief characteristic
of Niagara," or we may say, "I have an overpowering sense of
sublimity (or, of the sublime) whenever I look upon Niagara."
How Defined. — Although the sublime, as a simple mental emotion,
is incapable of definition, we can enumerate the several qualities
and circumstances which, by general consent, produce the feeling,
and can thus enable each one to judge what the feeling is, by an
appeal to his own consciousness in view of such qualities or circum-
stances.
1. Vastness. — The first circumstance that may be named
as producing a feeling of the sublime is vastness.
Examples of Vastness. — We have examples of this in wide ex-
tended plains to which the eye can set no limit, in the firmament of
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— SUBLIMITY. 199
heaven, in the boundless expanse of the ocean. Wherever space is
concerned, amplitude, or greatness of extent in one dimension or
another, is necessary to grandeur. Remove all bounds from any
object, and you at once render it sublime. Hence, infinite space,
endless numbers, and eternal duration always fill the mind with
ideas of sublimity.
Direction of this Extent. — It is noticeable, however, that vast ex-
tent in a horizontal direction does not affect the mind so powerfully
as an equal extent upwards or downwards. A spectator may ex-
perience a feeling of grandeur in looking over a plain, stretching in
every direction, in unbroken lines, twenty, or thirty, or forty miles.
But his feeling would be intensified a thousand-fold were he to look
up at a mountain, rising boldly to an equal height into the skies, or
down over a sheer precipice, sinking to a like awful depth below.
The Firmament. — In the case of the firmament, we have vastness
of extent in all directions. It is the widest, the highest, the deepest
object in all nature. Hence its universal acceptance as a most im-
pressive instance of sublimity.
2. Power. — The second circumstance that may be named
as producing a feeling of the sublime is great power.
A Locomotive. — A man standing by a railroad track, out in the
open country, where the trains pass at full speed, and seeing a mon-
ster locomotive, with its enormous burden, sweep by at the rate of
forty or fifty miles an hour, shaking the very earth as it passes, gets
an impression of power that is in the highest degree sublime.
Steam-Hammers. — A like impression is produced on contemplat-
ing the gigantic machines now used in engineering operations, —
ponderous hammers, weighing in some instances many tons, swayed
up and down, with all their resistless mass, with perfect ease and
dexterity, as if mere playthings in the hands of a child. Indeed, the
actual processes of modern mechanism, as seen in our foundries and
mines, far surpass in grandeur whatever was fabled by the ancients
in their wildest imaginings of the labors of Vulcan and the Cyclops.
Natural Objects. — Many objects in nature give an impression of
power that awakens a feeling of the sublime. Among these may be
mentioned earthquakes, thunder and lightning, volcanoes, cataracts,
200 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
storms at sea, and nearly all unusual and violent commotions of the
elements. Some of the larger animals, such as the lion, display a
certain power and majesty that raise an emotion of sublimity in the
beholder.
War-Horse.— The war-horse, as described in the book of Job, is a
familiar instance.
" Hast thou given the horse strength? hast thou clothed his neck with thun-
der? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is
terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength ; he goeth on to
meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted ; neither turneth
he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear
and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage; neither
believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets,
Ha ! ha ! and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains and the
shouting." (Job 39: 19-25.)
3. Awfulness. — The third circumstance that may be named
as producing a feeling of the sublime is a certain degree of
awfulness and solemnity.
Objects which Inspire Awe. — Darkness, solitude, and silence,
especially when connected with some indefinable apprehension of
danger, all tend to produce a feeling of sublimity. The scenes of
external nature which awaken this feeling are not the gay land-
scape, the flowery meadow, or the busy and flourishing city ; but
the hoary mountain, the solitary lake, the aged forest, or the de-
serted ruin.
Night. — For the same reason, anything which has in itself ele-
ments of grandeur becomes still more impressive when observed at
night. The firmament, amid the silence and stillness of that season,
strikes the imagination with a more awful grandeur than when seen
amid the splendors of the noonday sun. The deep tones of a great
bell are at any time grand ; but they are doubly so when heard at
the still and solemn hour of midnight. In the sublime description
which the Scriptures give of the presence of Jehovah, he is repre-
sented as surrounding himself with a mysterious darkness.
*' He bowed the heavens also, and came down ; and darkness was under his
feet. He made darkness his secret place ; his pavilion round about him were
dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies." (Psalm 18 : 9-11.)
4. Obscurity. — Another circumstance that helps to awaken
a feeling of the sublime is obscurity.
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— SUBLIMITY. 201
How Obscurity Operates. — Obscurity alone does not produce sub-
limity, but it co-operates powerfully with other circumstances in
producing this feeling. This is one reason why objects otherwise
impressive, become more so in the obscurity of the night season.
Things seen only in dim, uncertain outline become magnified and
exaggerated under the influence of an excited imagination.
Ghosts. — Hence the awe inspired by the supposed appearance of
ghosts. The mysterious power attributed to such beings, joined to
the awful obscurity attending their appearance, has always given
them a strong hold upon the imagination.
Example. — A good illustration of this is found in the book of
Job, (4 : 13-17,) when Eliphaz describes a spirit as appearing to him
in the silence and obscurity of the night :
" In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men,
fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then
a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up : it stood still, but
I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was
silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God ? "
5. Loudness of Sound. — Another circumstance which often
produces the feeling of the sublime is great loudness of sound.
What Kind of Loudness Sublime. — It is not, however, every kind
of loud sound that produces this effect. Sounds that are shrill or
piercing, may terrify or distress, but they do not fill the mind with
ideas of grandeur. It is the deep bass of the ocean, the roar of the
cataract and of the storm, of thunder and earthquake, the shouting
of a multitude, or the bursting of cannon, not the shriek of the
locomotive, that awakens a feeling of sublimity.
Example from Revelation. — How many of these ideas are brought
together in that sublime scene described in the Revelation (19 : 6).
"And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many
waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia : for the Lord
God Omnipotent reigneth."
6. Moral Greatness. — A feeling of the sublime is awa-
kened when we contemplate anything strikingly great or
noble in human actions. This is sometimes called the Moral
Sublime.
202 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Explanation. — Whenever, in some critical and high situation, we
behold a man uncommonly intrepid, and resting upon himself;
superior to passion and to fear ; elevated by some great principle to
the contempt of popular opinion, of selfish interest, of dangers, or
of death, then we are struck with a sense of the sublime. Actions
of this kind are called heroic, and they produce an effect similar to
that produced by the contemplation of the grand objects in nature,
filling the mind with admiration, and even with awe.
When King Porus, after a gallant defence, was taken prisoner, and was asked
how he wished to be treated, he replied, " Like a king."
When the pilot was afraid to put out to sea with Caesar in an open boat in time
of storm, Caesar said, " Why do you fear? You carry Cxsar"
When Gideon condemned the captive princes Zeba and Zalmunna to be put
to death, and commanded his son, who was standing by, to slay them, they re-
plied to Gideon, " Rise thou and fall upon us," thinking it more honorable to fall
by the hand of a great warrior than by the hand of a mere youth.
An English transport, carrying passengers and troops, sprang a leak upon the
Indian Ocean. Held to their duty by a young Ensign, the four hundred troops
gave up the life-boats to the passengers ; and forming in rank and file on the
deck, as the loaded boats sailed off to a safe distance, the passengers caught the
sound of the young Ensign's voice, as he shouted, standing face to face with
death, " Fire, my boys, a parting salute to Old England ! " There came a volley
of musketry, and when the smoke cleared away, not even a floating spar told
where the vessel and her gallant freight had gone down beneath the waters.
Actions such as these fill the mind with a feeling of the sublime. History is
full of examples.
n. The Sublime in Writing.
Having thus, in regard to actions and to natural objects, formed
some definite idea of what those qualities are which raise in us the
feeling of the sublime, we are the better able to explain what it is
that constitutes the sublime in writing or discourse. This, then;
will be our next inquiry.
1. Sublimity of Subject. — The first requisite, in order that
a piece of composition shall be sublime, is that the subject of
discourse shall itself be sublime.
Explanation. — Unless the action, or the natural object or occur-
rence, or whatever it is that we discourse about, is itself such that
if actually witnessed by us it would awaken a feeling of sublimity,
no mere words can make it so.* High-sounding words clothing a
mean subject are only the lion's skin covering an ass. They give
us a bray, not the genuine roar which sends terror to the heart.
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— SUBLIMITY. 203
2. A Vivid Conception of the Strong Points. — The second
requisite, in order that a piece of composition shall be sub-
lime, is that the writer or speaker form a vivid conception
of the strong points of the subject of discourse.
Explanation. — A man of feeble abilities, though describing the
most awful or the most stupendous object in nature, may yet not
have the natural elevation of soul which will lead him to notice what
is really grand in the object. He must have something grand in
himself in order to conceive rightly of what is grand in other things.
It is not in rules to give this ability. It is the gift of God. No one
can write sublimely, even on a sublime subject, unless he has by
nature a certain greatness of soul.
Napoleon in Egypt, wishing to inspire his army with enthusiasm
for the battle, pointed to the Pyramids, and said: "Thirty centuries
are looking down upon you! " No one who was not himself of heroic
mould would have thus conceived or spoken of those hoary monu-
ments of antiquity.
A thunder-storm at night among the mountains is a spectacle of
terrible sublimity. But a description of it, even if accurate in all
its particulars, would not necessarily be sublime. The writer must
know how to seize strongly upon those few grand features which
constitute its sublimity. None but a poet of high genius could have
conceived of it as Byron has done :
Far along
From peak to peak the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live thunder! not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,
And Jura answers through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud !
How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea,
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth !
And now again 'tis black — and now the glee
Of the loud hill shakes with its mountain mirth,
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
3. Suppression of Belittling Details. — A third condition
to sublimity in discourse is that the author knows what par-
ticulars to omit, as well as what to insert.
204 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Example from Milton. — There are, even about the grandest ob-
jects, many details which are belittling. Milton, in his battle of the
angels, describes them as tearing up the mountains and throwing
them at one another :
From their foundations loos'ning to and fro,
They plucked the seated hills, with all their load,
Rocks, waters, woods ; and by the shaggy tops
Uplifting, bore them in their hands.
Here no circumstance is mentioned which is not sublime.
Claudian. — One of the ancient poets, Claudian, in describing a
similar scene in the wars of the giants, adds a circumstance which
makes the whole thing ridiculous. He represents one of the giants
with Mount Ida upon his shoulders, and a river, which flowed from
the mountain, running down along the giant's back.
Virgil.— So great a poet as Virgil has made a like mistake in de-
scribing an eruption of Mount iEtna. Personifying the mountain,
he describes it under the degrading image of a drunken man "belch-
ing up its bowels with a groan " (eructam viscera cum gemitu).
Blackmore. — Sir Kichard Blackmore, by a singular perversity of
taste, seized upon this idea as the capital circumstance in his de-
scription, and, as one of his critics observes, represents the mountain
as in a fit of the colic.
JEtna, and all the burning mountains, find
Their kindled stores with inbred storms of wind
Blown up to rage, and roaring out complain,
As torn with inward gripes, and torturing pain ;
Laboring, they cast their dreadful vomit round,
And with their melted bowels spread the ground.
4. Simplicity and Conciseness of Expression. — A fourth
condition of sublimity in writing is that the expression be
simple and concise.
Explanation.— Simplicity is here used in opposition to profuse and
studied ornament, and conciseness to superfluous expression. In all
the celebrated examples of the sublime which literature affords, the
words used are comparatively plain and few. The sublimity is in
the thought, and that is all the more impressive for standing, like
the Pyramids, in simple and unadorned grandeur.
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— SUBLIMITY. 205
Longinus, a learned Greek of the third century, quotes, as an in-
stance of the sublime, the manner in which Moses, in the first chapter
of Genesis, describes the creation of light : " God said, Let there be
light, and there was light ; " yet the expression is perfectly plain
and simple, without ornament, and without a superfluous word. The
grandeur of the passage consists in the strong impression it gives
us of the greatness of the divine power, which produces such won-
derful effects by merely speaking a word.
The Sublimity of the Gospels. — Many of the sayings and most of
the miracles of our Lord, as recorded in the Gospels, have the same
characteristic. They are expressed with the utmost simplicity and
plainness, and yet they are in the highest degree sublime. The most
stupendous miracles are described with a simple majesty fully equal to
that in Genesis which extorted such admiration from Longinus.
Examples.— In describing the greatest of all his miracles, that of raising from
the dead, the record is simply, " Jesus said. Lazarus, come forth : and he that
was dead came forth." In healing the worst form of disease then known, he
merely said to the leprous man, " Be thou clean : and immediately his leprosy
was cleansed." When the disciples were in peril at sea, more terrifying than
that which daunted Caesar's pilot, Jesus with calm serenity said, " It is I, be not
afraid." His claims to authority, as a teacher come from God, are put forth in
few and simple words, but at the same time with a majesty of expression that
forced even his enemies to say, " never man spake like this man."
Character of these Utterances.— These utterances are either simply
blasphemous in their arrogance, or they are in the highest degree
sublime. Imagine any other man that ever lived, saying to the
countless tribes of affliction, in all the ends of the earth, " Come
unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and / will give you
rest." " Let not your hearts be troubled : ye believe in God, believe
also in me." " Before Abraham was, I am." " In this place is one
greater than the temple." " The son of man is Lord even of the
Sabbath day." " I am the resurrection and the life : he that believ-
eth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live."
Improving upon the Sublime.— If we take any of the examples
which have been given, and endeavor to improve upon them, by
piling up big words and sounding epithets, and by going into vari-
ous small details, we soon find that the sublimity has all disappeared.
The transaction or the thought may still be grand ; but our expres-
sion of it is poor and commonplace. A second-rate poet has thus
18
206 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
dilated upon Caesar's celebrated phrase, Quid times f Ccesarem vehis.
(" What do you fear? You carry Caesar.")
" But Caesar, still superior to distress,
Fearless, and confident of sure success,
Thus to the pilot loud : The seas despise.
And the vain threat'ning of the noisy skies;
Though gods deny thee yon Ausonian strand,
Yet go, I charge you, go, at my command.
Thy ignorance alone can cause thy fears,
Thou know'st not what a freight thy vessel bears;
Thou know'st not I am he to whom 't is given,
Never to want the care of watchful heaven.
Obedient fortune waits my humble thrall,
And always ready, comes before I call.
Let winds and seas, loud wars at freedom wage,
And waste upon themselves their empty rage;
A stronger, mightier daimon is thy friend,
Thou and thy bark on Csesar's fate depend.
Thou stand'st amazed to view this dreadful scene,
And wonder'st what the gods and fortune mean;
But artfully their bounties thus they raise,
And from my danger arrogate new praise;
Amid the fears of death they bid me live,
And still enhance what they are sure to give."
II. BEAUTY.
Mode of Treatment.— The treatment of Beauty as a quality of
style must be, in some respects, similar to our treatment of Sub-
limity. We will speak first of Beauty in general, and then of Rhe-
torical beauty, or beauty in Composition.
I. Beauty in General.
Eelation of Beauty to 8ublimity. — Beauty, next to Sublimity,
affords the highest pleasure to the taste. The emotion which it
raises, however, is very distinguishable from that of sublimity. It
is of a calmer kind; more gentle and soothing; does not elevate
the mind so much, but, on the contrary, produces an agreeable
serenity. Sublimity raises a feeling too violent to be lasting; the
pleasure arising from beauty admits of longer continuance. It
extends also to a much greater variety of objects. It is applied
indeed to almost every external object that pleases either the eye,
or the ear; to many dispositions of the mind ; to numerous objects
of mere abstract science ; and to nearly all the graces of writing.
We talk currently of a beautiful tree or flower; a beautiful char-
STECIAL PROPERTIES— BEAUTY. 207
acter; a beautiful theorem in mathematics; a beautiful poem or
The qualities which produce in us the emotion of beauty may
mostly be reduced under the following heads :
1. Color. — Color affords the simplest instance of beauty.
The eye is so formed that certain colors give us pleasure,
and these colors we call beautiful.
How far Influenced by Association.— In some cases, probably, the
pleasure derived from color is influenced by the association of ideas.
Green, for instance, is more pleasing, because associated with rural
scenes; blue, with the serenity of the sky ; white, with innocence.
Persons differ too in their choice of colors, and in the extent to
which color itself gives them pleasure. But, notwithstanding this,
the fact still remains that color alone, apart from all associations, is
a source of beauty.
Evidence of God's Goodness. — It is a striking evidence of the good-
ness of the Creator, that a source of pleasure so pure and elevating
is at the same time so abundant. The whole visible creation, ani-
mate and inanimate, is a picture gallery, replete with specimens of
coloring such as no art of man can equal, either for richness or for
delicacy. There is no shade or tint, in which the eye of man takes
delight, that may not be found in its perfection in the plumage of
the birds, the leaves of plants and flowers, the varied hues of the
morning and evening sky, the wondrous shells of the ocean, the still
more wondrous gems from the mine.
2. Figure. — Figure, as a source of beauty, is more com-
plex and diversified than color. The beauty which can be
traced to figure, is made up of several elements, which may
be separated in idea.
Kegularity. — The first of these elements is regularity. By a
regular figure is meant one which we perceive to be formed accord-
ing to some rule, and not left arbitrary and loose in the arrange-
ment of its parts. Thus a square, a triangle, a circle, an ellipse are
regular figures, and on the proper occasions please the eye by this
regularity, and are, for that reason, accounted beautiful.
208 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Variety. — Another element, in the beauty which is dependent
upon figure, is exactly the opposite to that just named. I mean
variety. This latter is indeed a much more prolific source of beauty
than the former. Both in the works of nature, and in those works
of art which are intended to please, while regularity of figure is
sufficiently observed to prevent confusion, and to show design, yet
a certain graceful variety is the prevailing characteristic.
Each when Pleasing. — Exact mathematical figures, indeed, are
seldom, perhaps never, pleasing, except when associated with the
idea of fitness for some particular use. The doors and windows of
a house are made after a regular form, with exact proportion of
parts ; and being so formed, they please the eye, because by this
very regularity of figure they better subserve the use for which they
were designed. But the plants and flowers which surround the
house have an almost infinite diversity and variety of figure, and
please us all the more for being so formed, instead of growing in
squares, circles, and polygons.
Curves. — Figures bounded by curved lines are in general more
beautiful than those bounded by straight lines and angles. To say
that a thing is angular, is only another way of saying that it lacks
beauty. Of curved lines, those which are elliptical are usually more
pleasing than those which are circular. The reason seems to be
that in the ellipse, there is a constant deviation from the line of
curvature, giving at the same time continual uniformity and con-
tinual change. For the same reason, wave lines and spiral lines are
accounted beautiful, and they are found of frequent recurrence in
shells, flowers, and other works of nature, and in the works of art
that are designed for ornament and decoration.
3. Motion. — Motion is a source of beauty. By this is
meant that bodies in motion are for that reason more agree-
able than bodies at rest. But not every kind of motion is
agreeable, and of those which are agreeable some are more
so than others.
Gentle. — The first requisite to the agreeableness of any motion is
that it should be gentle. A bird gliding through the air is beauti-
ful ; the lightning, on the contrary, darting from side to side of the
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— BEAUTY. 209
heavens, is sublime. We feel the same difference in contemplating
a stream moving gently along its course, and a torrent dashing
tumultuously over a precipice.
Curvilinear. — Another requisite to the agreeableness of motion is
that it should be in curved rather than in straight lines. Hence the
pleasing effect of curling smoke or flame. Here it is to be noticed
that most of the motions used by men in transacting the necessary
business of life are in straight lines, while those connected mainly
with pleasure and ornament are made in curving lines.
4. Complex Beauty. — Though color, figure, and motion
are separate principles of beauty, yet in mauy beautiful
objects they all meet, and thereby render the beauty both
greater and more complex.
Examples. — Thus, in flowers, trees, and animals, we are enter-
tained at once with the delicacy of the color, with the gracefulness
of the figure, and sometimes also with the motion of the object.
Although each of these produces separately an agreeable sensation,
yet these sensations are of such a similar nature as readily to mix
and blend in one general perception of beauty, which we ascribe to
the whole object as its cause': for beauty is always conceived by us
as something residing in the object which raises the pleasant sensa-
tion ; a sort of glory which dwells upon and invests it.
The Most Complete Example. — Perhaps the most complete assem-
blage of beautiful objects that can anywhere be found, is presented
by a rich natural landscape, where there is a sufficient variety of
objects; fields in verdure, scattered trees and flowers, running
water, and animals grazing. If to these be joined some of the
productions of art, which suit such a scene, — as a bridge with
arches over a river, smoke rising from cottages in the midst of
trees, and the distant view of a fine building seen by the rising
sun, — we then enjoy, in the highest perfection, that gay, cheerful,
and placid sensation which characterizes beauty. To have an eye
and a taste formed for catching the peculiar beauties of such scenes
as these is a necessary requisite for all who attempt poetical de-
scription.
5. Beauty of Countenance. — The beauty of the human
18* O
210 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
countenance is more complex than any that we have yet
considered.
What it Includes. — It includes the beauty of color, arising from
the delicate shades of the complexion ; and the beauty of figure,
arising from the lines which form the different features of the face.
But the chief beauty of the countenance depends upon a mysterious
expression which it conveys of the qualities of the mind ; of good
sense or good humor; of sprightliness, candor, benevolence, sensi-
bility, or other amiable dispositions. How it comes to pass that a
certain conformation of features is connected in our idea with cer-
tain moral qualities ; whether we are taught by instinct or by expe-
rience to form this connection, and to read the mind in the counte-
nance, belongs not to us now to inquire, nor is indeed easy to re-
solve. The fact is certain and acknowledged, that what gives the
human countenance its most distinguishing beauty is what is called
its expression ; or an image, which it is conceived to show, of in-
ternal moral dispositions.
6. Moral Beauty. — There are certain qualities of the mind
which, whether expressed in the countenance, or by words, or
by actions, always raise in us a feeling similar to that of
beauty.
Two Kinds of Moral Qualities. — There are two great classes of
moral qualities. One class is of the high and great virtues, which
require extraordinary efforts, and turn upon dangers and sufferings.
Among these virtues are heroism, magnanimity, contempt of pleas-
ures, and contempt of death. These excite in the spectator an
emotion of sublimity and grandeur. The other class is generally
of the social virtues, and such as are of a softer and gentler kind.
Among these are compassion, mildness, friendship, and generosity.
These raise in the beholder a sensation of pleasure, so much akin to
that produced by beautiful external objects, that, though of a more
dignified nature, it may, without impropriety, be classed under the
same head.
II. The Beautiful in Writing:.
Ilaving obtained some definite notion of what Beauty is, as applied
to objects in general, we can more readily understand what is meant
by the Beautiful in composition, and how it is to be sought.
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— BEAUTY. 211
1. Beauty of Subject. — The first requisite to beauty in
composition is that the subject of discourse be of an agree-
able character.
Explanation. — If that of which we write or speak is of such a
character that it would, if actually present, excite contempt, disgust,
or terror, no grace of rhetoric will make it agreeable. Discourse,
to be beautiful, must present to the mind beautiful subjects for
thought.
The Beautiful and the Scientific. — There is a great difference in
this respect between what is meant to please merely, and what is
meant to instruct ; between the beautiful and the scientific. In a
scientific inquiry, our object is to obtain the exact facts, whether
agreeable or disagreeable. But in attempting to write what is
beautiful, our object is to please. We select, therefore, topics which
are pleasing, and omit those which are displeasing.
2. Beauty of Expression. — The second requisite to beauty
in composition is that the subject be handled in an agree-
able manner.
Vagueness of the Rule. — It may be objected to this rule that it is
too vague in its character to be of any practical use. But it may
serve to exclude many things which are objectionable, and also to
point in a general way to the kind of excellence at which a writer
should aim, who desires to be considered beautiful.
Uses of the Rule. — It excludes low and vulgar expressions, slang
phrases, and words which are harsh-sounding or difficult of utter-
ance, when there are others more euphonious and equally expres-
sive. It leads one to seek such words and phrases as are easy of
utterance, such as please the ear, and such as for any cause awaken
in the mind agreeable ideas. It makes much use of simile, meta-
phor, and other rhetorical figures, and it pays great attention to
the structure of sentences, so as to make them flowing and har-
monious.
3. Conciseness not Necessary. — Beauty as an attribute of
style, does not require the same degree of conciseness that
sublimity does.
212 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Why the Difference.— A certain degree of diffuseness is entirely
compatible with that ease and grace of expression which is charac-
teristic of beauty. The emotion known as the beautiful, being of a
gentle nature, is capable of longer continuance than the sublime. It
may pervade, indeed, a whole work, while sublimity is more confined
to single passages and expressions.
Wit and Humor. — Sublimity and beauty exist in the works and
operations of nature, as well as in those of man, and are expressed
in very many other ways, as well as in discourse. But the qualities
now to be mentioned, Wit and Humor, belong exclusively to man
and his works; and, though they may find expression to some extent
in painting, sculpture, music, and other works of art, yet their chief
expression is by means of language.
Examples.— A mountain, a cataract, a thunder-storm, a volcano, a lion's
roar, may be sublime ; a landscape, a flower, a bird, the upward soaring of the
lark, or the wavy motion of a field of grain, may be beautiful ; but none of these
acts or things are ever spoken of as witty or humorous. These epithets apply to
human things only, and especially to the utterances of human speech.
III. WIT.
For the proper understanding of Wit, it will be necessary first to
consider separately the several ideas which it includes :
Ingredients of Wit. — 1. First, then, surprise is an essential ingre-
dient in wit. No saying is ever received as witty, unless it discloses
some unexpected relation between ideas. Hence, witticisms seldom
bear repetition, or if repeated, they lose much of their sparkle.
2. Secondly, the discovery of this unexpected relation must be of a
kind that implies some mental superiority on the part of the dis-
coverer. The discovery of a gold watch hanging on a bush, or of a
calf with two heads, would no doubt be unexpected, and would cause
great surprise.* But there would be nothing witty in it. It would
imply no intellectual smartness on the part of the discoverer. Any
body with eyes, and in the same situation, would see the same thing.
3. Thirdly, the unexpected relation which is discovered, should be
such as to excite surprise merely, and not any higher emotion, like
that excited by the sublime, the beautiful, or the useful.
* Sydney Smith.
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— WIT. 213
Example. — A Hindoo epigram says, "The good man goes not upon enmity,
but rewards with kindness the very being who injures him. So the sandal-wood,
while it is felling, imparts to the edge of the axe its aromatic flavor." Here is an
unexpected relation discovered between felling sandal-wood and returning good
for evil. The discovery of this relation shows smartness, and it excites surprise.
Why is it not witty? Because it is a great deal more. The mere feeling of sur-
prise is swallowed up by the contemplation of the beauty of the thought. The
discovery excites a higher emotion than that of surprise.
Another Example. — There is a French saying, that hypocrisy is the homage
which vice renders to virtue. Here again the observation is not regarded witty,
because it excites our admiration for its justness and beauty.
Definition of Wit. — Wit is the discovery of such an unex-
pected relation between ideas as will excite surprise, but no
other and higher emotion, like that, for instance, excited by
the sublime, the beautiful, or the useful.
Some examples will serve to illustrate the correctness of this defi-
nition.
A French General. — Louis XIV., being molested by the solicitations of a
certain general officer, cried out, loud enough to be overheard, " That gentleman
is the most troublesome officer in the whole army " " Your majesty's enemies
more than once have said the same thing." was the witty reply. Here, that the
man should assent to the royal invective, and that he should show it to be errone-
ous, are two distinct and apparently contradictory ideas. Yet the two ideas are
expressed in such terms, that a relation between them is seen to exist, and the
unexpected discovery of this relation constitutes the wit.
Contempt of Court. — A judge once threatened to fine a lawyer for contempt
of Court. " I have expressed no contempt of Court." said the lawyer; " on the
contrary. I have carefully concealed my feelings." Here an unexpected relation
is discovered between the apparent denial, and the real admission of the con-
tempt.
"A spaniel, a woman, and a walnut-tree,—
The more you beat 'em, the better they be."
" The world, of fools has such a store,
That he who would not see an ass
Must hide at home and bolt his door,
And break his looking-glass."
"A horse bit his master; —
How came it to pass?
He heard the good pastor
Say, All flesh is grass."
Madam Blaize. — One of Goldsmith's minor poems, " The Elegy on Madam
Blaize," contains a witticism of a peculiar kind, at the end of each stanza:
"Good people all, with one accord,
Lament for Madam Blaize,
214 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Who never wanted a good word,—
From those who spoke her praise.
"She strove the neighborhood to please
With manners wondrous winning;
She never followed wicked ways, —
Unless when she was sinning."
The Jjap-dof?. — Sydney Smith tells of a French lady, who, when her pet lap-
dog bit a piece out of her footman's leg, exclaimed, "Ah, poor little beast! I
hope it won't make him sick."
Jjnndseer. — When Landseer, the great animal painter, asked Smith to sit for
his picture, Smith replied, " Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?"
Mountain and Squirrel. — Emerson's poem, "The Mountain and the
Squirrel," is remarkable for its wit.
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel.
And the former called the latter " Little Prig."
Bun replied —
"You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of wind and weather
Must be taken in together,
To make up a year,
And a sphere;
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I 'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.
I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel-track.
Talents differ: all is well and wisely put:
If I cannot carry forests on my back.
Neither can you crack a nut."
Henry Ward Beecher once, on the 1st of April, received a letter containing
simply the words, "April Fool." He enclosed it to Bonner, with a note, saying,
" I have often heard of people's writing letters and forgetting to sign their name,
but I never before heard of a man's signing his name and forgetting to write the
letter."
Pun. — When the unexpected relation is not between ideas,
but between words, the witticism is called a pun.
Character of the Pun. — This is an inferior species of wit, and one
which is often carried to a tiresome excess. Yet it cannot be denied
that puns are sometimes very effective.
Example from Franhlin. — When Hancock, after the signing of the Decla-
ration of Independence, urged upon the signers the necessity of union, saying,
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— WIT. 215
'•We must all hang together" "Yes," said Franklin, "or we shall all hang sepa-
rately!" This is undoubtedly a pun, the wit turning upon the new and unex-
pected meaning of the word " hang," as used in the reply. But the pun is of the
same serious and elevated cast as that which closes his celebrated letter to Stra-
han, of about the same date :
Another Example. — "Yon are a member of Parliament, and one of the
majority which has doomed my country to destruction. You have begun to burn
our towns and murder our people. Look upon your hands! They are stained
with the blood of your relations ! You and I were long friends. You are now
my enemy, and I am Yours, B. Franklin."
Remark. — In regard to both of these examples, it may be re-
marked that they can more easily be received as specimens of wit
now, at the distance of over a century from the time of their
utterance, than they could then, when they were fitted to awaken
feelings of anger and stern resolution, rather than laughter.
Currant a Pun. — Very different from these was the pun uttered on a certain
occasion by Curran. A friend, hearing some one say " curosity " for " curiosity,"
exclaimed, M How that man murders the language ! " " Not quite murders" said
Curran ; " he only knocks an i (eye) out."
And the Doctor told the Sexton,
And the Sexton tolled the bell. — Hood.
" Death stops my pen, but not my pension." — Hood's last pun, alluding to the
pension bestowed upon his family.
Theodore Hook, when asked for lines on the death of the King and Queen of
the Sandwich Islands, wrote :
"Waiter! two Sandwiches!" cried Death,
And their wild Majesties resigned their breath.
Home Tooke said of the poor poets : " We may well be called a Republic of
letters, for there is not a sovereign among us."
Here lies my wife, — a sad slattern and shrew;
If I said I regretted her, I should lie too. — Anon.
Shakespeare has written three sonnets, which are an extended pun on his own
name. One of them is given below :
Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will,
And Will to boot, and wile in overplus ;
More than enough am I, that vex thee still,
To thy sweet will making addition thus.
Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
. Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
Shall will in others seem right gracious,
And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
And in abundance addeth to his store;
So thou, being rich in will, add to thy will
One will of mine, to make thy large will more.
216 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Let no unkind, no fair bescechers kill;
Think all but one, and me in that one Will.
Habit of Punning. — The habit of punning should be avoided, both
in writing and in conversation. Facility in making puns is soon
acquired, and when acquired, almost always leads to such an excess
as to weary both readers and hearers. There are, of course, excep-
tions to the rule. But, in general, there are few greater bores than
an inveterate punster.
Habit of being Witty. — In the cultivation and indulgence of wit
of the higher kind, some care should be used. A professed wit
incurs two dangers : First, that habit of mind which leads him to
be ever on the lookout for something striking and unexpected, is
not the one most conducive to truthfulness. He is under the temp-
tation of saying what will amuse and startle, rather than what is
strictly true. Secondly, witticisms usually are made at somebody's
expense. If not barbed with malice, they yet leave a sting behind.
No man usually has so many enemies as he who has a sharp wit.
He may be feared, but he is also hated.
Dangers of Wit. — " Professed wits, though they are generally eourted for
the amusement they afford, are seldom respected for the qualities they possess.
The habit of seeing things in a witty point of view indreases, and makes incur-
sions from its own proper regions upon principles and opinions which are ever
held sacred by the wise and good. A witty man is a dramatic performer; in
process of time, he can no more exist without applause, than he can exist
without air; if his audience be small, or if they are inattentive, or if a new wit
defrauds him of any portion of his admiration, it is all over with him,— he
sickens, and is extinguished. The applauses of the theatre on which he per-
forms are so essential to him. that he must obtain them at the expense of de-
cency, friendship, and good feeling.
" It must always be probable, too. that a mere wit is a person of light and friv-
olous understanding. His business is not to discover relations of ideas that are
useful, and have a real influence upon life, but to discover the more trifling rela-
tions which are only amusing; he never looks at things with the naked eye of
common sense, but is always gazing at the world through a Claude Lorraine
glass,— discovering a thousand appearances which are created only by the in-
strument of inspection, and covering every object with factitious and un-
natural colors. In short, the character of a mere wit it is impossible to consider
as very amiable, very respectable, or very safe."— Sydney Smith.
Advantages of Wit. — " I have talked of the danger of wit : I do not mean
by that to enter into commonplace declamation against faculties because they
are dangerous ; wit is dangerous, eloquence is dangerous, a talent for observa-
tion is dangerous, every thing is dangerous that has efficacy and vigor for its
characteristics; nothing is safe but mediocrity. The business is, in conducting
the understanding well, to risk something; to aim at uniting things that are
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— HUMOR. 217
commonly incompatible. The meaning of an extraordinary man is, that he is
eight men, not one man ; that he has as much wit as if he had no sense, and as
much sense as if he had no wit ; that his conduct is as judicious as if he were
the dullest of human beings, and his imagination as brilliant as if he were irre-
trievably ruined. But when wit is combined with sense and information;
when it is softened by benevolence, and restrained by strong principle: when it
is in the hands of a man who can use it and despise it, who can be witty and
something much better than witty, who loves honor, justice, decency, good
nature, morality, and religion ten thousand times better than wit; wit is then a
beautiful and delightful part of our nature.
" There is no more interesting spectacle than to see the effects of wit upon the
different characters of men ; than to observe it expanding caution, relaxing
dignity, unfreezing coldness, teaching age, and care, and pain to smile, extort-
ing reluctant gleams of pleasure from melancholy, and charming even the
pangs of grief. It is pleasant to observe how it penetrates through the coldness
and awkwardness of society, gradually bringing men nearer together, and like
the combined force of wine and oil, giving every man a glad heart and a shining
countenance. Genuine and innocent wit like this is surely the flavor of the
mind ! Man could direct his ways by plain reason, and support his life by taste,
less food ; but God has given us wit, and flavor, and brightness, and laughter,
and perfumes, to enliven the days of man's pilgrimage, and to 'charm his
pained steps over the burning marie.' "Sydney Smith.
IV. HUMOR.
Humor is, in many respects, like wit. Its object is to ex-
cite laughter, and it appeals accordingly to our sense of the
ridiculous.
Incongruity. — The laughter produced by humor comes from see-
ing things which are incongruous. If we see a man pretentiously
dressed, but using awkward and clownish gestures, or employing
big words while violating the most common rules of grammar, the
things seem incongruous, and we have an immediate propensity to
laugh.
Surprise. — To say that a thing is incongruous is only another way
of saying that it is unexpected. Surprise, therefore, is an ingredient
in humor as it is in wit.
Contempt. — Surprise and incongruity alone, however, are not suf-
ficient to constitute humor. To see a refined and delicate lady
accidentally fallen into the mud, would excite our pity; to see a
perfumed fop in the same condition would make us laugh. There
would be incongruity and surprise in both instances ; but in the one,
there are circumstances which awaken a feeling of tenderness and
respect, and this feeling holds in abeyance our sense of the ludi-
19
218 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC,
crous. This suggests another condition as necessary to humor.
The incongruity which is to make us laugh must not be in con-
nection with circumstances which awaken any higher feeling, such
as pity, fear, reverence, and so forth. We must have, in other
words, a certain feeling of contempt for the person laughed at. "We
would not laugh at a man who was in the agonies of dying no mat-
ter how incongruous and absurd might be the contortions of his
face. The solemnity of the occasion holds all lighter emotions in
check.
" It is a beautiful thing to observe the boundaries which nature has affixed to
the ridiculous, and to notice how soon it is swallowed up by the more illustrious
feelings of our minds. Where is the heart so hard that could bear to see the
awkward resources and contrivances of the poor turned into ridicule? Who
could laugh at the fractured, ruined body of a soldier? Who is so wicked as to
amuse himself with the infirmities of extreme old age? or to find subject for
humor in the weakness of a perishing, dissolving body ? Who is there that does
not feel himself disposed to overlook the little peculiarities of the truly great and
wise, and to throw a veil over that ridicule which they have redeemed by the
magnitude of their talents and the splendor of their virtues ? Who ever thinks
of turning into ridicule our great and ardent hopes of a world to come? When-
ever the man of humor meddles with these things, he is astonished to find that
in all the great feelings of their nature the mass of mankind always think and
act aright, that they are ready enough to laugh, but that they are quite as ready
to drive away with indignation and contempt the light fool who comes, with the
feather of wit, to crumble the bulwarks of truth, and to beat down the Temples
of God !" — Sydney Smith.
Characteristic. — Another important thing to be observed is, that,
in humor, the incongruity which excites our mirth is something
characteristic of the person in whom such incongruity exists. It is
something which would be absurd for us to do, and therefore we
laugh at it, but it is in perfect keeping for him. Unless it is thus in
keeping with his character, it cannot be humorous, although it may
be ridiculous. A humorous story told of a Yankee, and in keeping
with the Yankee character, would cease to be humorous if told of
an Irishman or a Dutchman. The smart sayings of Sam Weller
would be laughable anywhere ; but they are humorous only as com-
ing from Mr. Weller himself. Humor, to be successful, demands a
fitness of things approaching, in sharp exactness, the demands of
the sublime. The things described must be congruous in the very
midst of their incongruity. They must exactly fit the character of
the person to whom they are attributed, while equally not fitting
for us, and therefore laughed at by us.
SPECIAL PROPERTIES— HUMOR. 219
Kindly. — Lastly, in genuine humor there is always a feeling of
kindliness towards the persons who are ridiculed. We have our
laugh at them, but in a good-natured way which wishes them no
harm. Humor, in this respect, differs widely from wit. It is never
bitter, it is never malignant. It is perfectly consistent with the
largest charity. Thackeray, himself a humorist of high order, has
defined humor to be a compound of wit and love. "The best hu-
mor," he says, " is that which contains most humanity, that which
is flavored throughout with tenderness and kindness."
Humorists Kind-hearted. — In accordance with the last remark, it
may be observed that those writers who have been most celebrated
for their wit have usually been noted for their ill-temper, while the
humorists have in the main been persons of kind and amiable dis-
position. Among the humorous writers of recent times who may
be quoted in illustration of this remark, are Lamb, Hood, Thacke-
ray, and Dickens, of England, and Irving, Lowell, Holmes, and Saxe,
of our own country.
Continuance. — Wit and Humor differ in regard to continuance.
Wit is concentrated, and comes at intervals, and by flashes. Humor
is different in its nature, and is capable of being continued through
a whole performance, and for almost any length of time.
CHAPTER VI.
VERSIFICATION.
The present chapter has to do with the mechanism of
Poetry, rather than with poetry itself.
Object of Inquiry. — It is not necessary, at this point, to define
what poetry is, as to its essential nature. It is for the present
enough to know, that the object which the poet has in presenting
his thoughts in a poetical form is to increase thereby the pleasure
which the mere thoughts themselves might give the reader, and that
a part at least of this increased pleasure depends upon contrivances
which are wholly of a mechanical nature.
THE FOUNDATION OF VERSE.
The Question. — Why is it that the same thoughts, even
when expressed in the same words, please more, arranged in
one particular way, than they do under some other arrange-
ment, which conveys the sense with equal clearness ?
The Proof. — That the fact is as it is here stated, is a point which
any one can decide for himself. Take, for instance, the following
passage from Byron, stripped of its poetical form :
" It Is the hour when the nightingale's high note is heard from the houghs; it
is the hour when lovers' vows in every whispered word seem sweet; and gentle
winds and near waters make music to the lonely ear. The dews have lightly
wet each flower, and the stars are met in the sky, and a deeper blue is on the
wave, and a browner hue on the leaf, and that clear obscure in the heaven, so
softly dark and darkly pure, which follows the decline of day, as twilight melts
away beneath the moon."
Example Explained. — Here the sense is just as clear ns in the form
in which it was originally written, and the words are all the same:
220
VER SIFICA TION. 221
they are only .arranged differently. The words, even under their
present arrangement, exhibit pleasant pictures to the imagination.
But how much is that pleasure enhanced, when they flow forth in
the melodious form in which the poet placed them!
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word;
And gentle winds and waters near
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars have met,
, And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softly dark, and darkly pure.
Which follows the decline of day,
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
There is probably not a reader living who does not feel an in-
creased gratification in reading the passage in this form. The ques-.
tion arises, whence this increase of pleasure? It cannot be in the
sense, for that is expressed with equal clearness, and by the same
Verse in an Unknown Language. — This point is rendered, if pos-
sible, still more apparent by remarking that the same principle, what-
ever it is, that gives us this increase of pleasure, gives us pleasure
in the case even of nonsense, that is, in the melodious versification
of a language which we do not understand, and which therefore
conveys no sense to us.
Example.— Take the first line in Virgil. The sense is expressed clearly enough
by the words standing thus :
Tu, Tityre, sub fagi patulae tegmine recubans.
It is not necessary to understand Latin, to find an agreeable differ-
ence when the line is read as Virgil wrote it :
Tityre, tu patulae, recubans sub tegmine fagi.
Explanation. — The difference here cannot be in the sense. It
must be in the sound; and, to be more specific still, not simply in
the sounds by themselves, for we have. the same identical sounds in
both cases, but in the arrangement of the sounds. The ultimate
19*
222 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
analysis of the subject, therefore, necessarily leads to some consider-
ation of the action of the vocal organs in uttering articulate sounds.
1. Vocal Impulse. — The first thing to be observed in re-
gard to this utterance is that the vocal organs act by im-
pulse. This may be accepted as an ultimate fact.
A Comparison.— The movement of the voice in pronunciation is
not that of a boat gliding equably through the water, but that of a
man walking on the ground by distinct steps. The voice goes step
by step in the pronunciation of words.
Comparison Extended. — Extending the metaphor somewhat, we may say,
it is the consonant sound which arrests the voice in its progress, just as the ground
arrests the foot of the man walking. So also it is the vowel sound, in which the
voice is prolonged, that represents the space passed over by the traveller in going
from one footstep to another. To carry the voice over this space, that is, to carry
it from one consonant upon which it has rested, through a vowel, to a lodgment
upon some other consonant, requires a distinct, fresh impulse.
Syllables.— These impulses are only another name for syllables,
and a syllable is so much of a word as is pronounced during one im-
pulse of the voice. It includes a vowel always, and generally one
or more consonants.
2. Strong and Light Impulses.— The second thing to be
observed in this matter is that in ordinary pronunciation we
never utter a long succession of syllables with precisely the
same degree of impulse. This also is to be accepted as an
ultimate fact.
Explanation. — One finds himself naturally and easily giving a
quick, strong impulse to every second or third syllable, and a light,
tripping one to the syllable or syllables intervening. The organs
seem to go most easily and pleasantly, not in the military tread of
the soldier, but in the hop-step-and-jump of schoolboys. The syl-
lable to which this strong impulse is given is variously called a
heavy, a grave, or an accented syllable.
3. Time between Impulses. — A third thing to be observed
is, that, after giving one of these strong impulses or accents,
some little time is required before the organs are in a condi-
tion to give another accent.
VERSIFICATION. 223
Accentual Intervals. — This interval between two accents may
either be left vacant, or it may be filled up with one or more light,
unaccented syllables. When the time is not so filled up, there is,
after each heavy impulse, a pause or rest.
Examples.— This may be illustrated by the words faith, truth, mirth, spite, hate.
In pronouncing these words, thus arranged, we involuntarily give to each a
strong impulse or accent, and after each we make a pause.
If to each of these words the syllable Jul be added, making faithful, truthf>i\
mirthful, spiteful, hateful, the additional light syllable will then occupy the time
before occupied by the pause.
The interval between the accents may be occupied by two light syllables, in-
stead of one, as in the word faithfully. These two light syllables are then con-
sidered as occupying exactly the same time as the one syllable, or the pause.
The three lines,
Faith, Truth, Mirth, Spite, Hate,
Faithful, Truthful, Mirthful, Spiteful, Hateful,
Faithfully, Truthfully, Mirthfully, Spitefully, Hatefully,
are all pronounced in exactly the same time, and are, in versification, all counted
as of the same length.
Accentual Stress not Arbitrary. — It is not, therefore, by custom,
or by the edicts of prosodians and orthoepists, that certain sylla-
bles, at short intervals, receive a strong and distinguishing stress
or impulse of the voice. On the contrary, this alternate action
and reaction of the voice is as natural and involuntary as are the
pulsations of the heart, or the inspiration and expiration of the
breath.
Accent Paramount. — Accent is thus a paramount law in
all speech, dividing it up into convenient and agreeable sec-
tions or periods.
Names of Accentual Divisions. — These sections or periods have
received various names. They are called sometimes " cadences,"
because at the termination of each the voice seems to fall ; some-
times "feet," because the voice seems to go through the syllables
step by step ; sometimes " metres," because thereby a line or a sen-
tence is meted or measured; sometimes also "numbers," because it
thus becomes a matter of count. All these terms may be, and have
been, applied equally to prose and verse, because all speech neces-
sarily has the accentual divisions indicated by these names. Custom,
however, has in a great measure restricted the terms " feet " and
"metres" to poetry, and "cadences" to prose.
224 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Place of the Accents Important. — The heavy or accented syllables
may be placed at such convenient distances apart as to give both
ease to the speaker and pleasure to the hearer. On the other hand,
we can readily imagine sucli a combination of syllables with refer-
ence to the accent, as to render the pronunciation at once difficult
and dissonant.
Examples.— Take the following line, made up for the occasion:
Necessitous halting to for emphasized alcohol eccentricity.
In pronouncing such a line, we find the voice struggling like a man
making his way through a bog. How different from this is the How
of the voice in reading such a passage as the following :
" I shall not think my employment useless or ignoble, if, by my assistance, for-
eign nations and distant ages gain access to the propagators of knowledge, and
understand the teachers of truth ; if my labors afford light to the repositories of
science, and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to Milton, and to Boyle."— Johnson.
Rhythm. — This easy and melodious flow of the voice is
called the Rhythm. It depends upon the proper adjustment
and proportion of the syllables in reference to the accent.
Both in Prose and Poetry. —This Rhythm may exist in prose. It
always does exist in prose that is well written. The passage just
quoted from Johnson may be divided into feet, varying in length
from two syllables to five, and occurring in parts with some degree
of regularity. But if a rhythm may be detected in prose, how
much more is it to be looked for in poetry, where the accents occur
with almost undeviating uniformity, and never with more than two
intervening syllables.
Rhythm a Source of Pleasure. — Such is the constitution of the
human mind, that we cannot perceive this rhythm without receiving
a pleasure therefrom. This pleasure is based upon the same prin-
ciple as that by which we are pleased with the sight of architectural
proportions, or the sound of harmonious music. It is the percep-
tion of beauty in whatever is symmetrical.
The Original Question. — This brings us back to a direct answer,
in part at least, to the question with which we set out, namely, the
same sentiments being expressed by the same words, what is it that
makes the poetical arrangement of the words more pleasing than
VERSIFICATION— RHYTHM. 225
the prose arrangement ? I answer : It is the greater perfection of its
Rhythm.
Difference of Prose and Poetry as to Rhythm. — This rhythm exists
indeed, in both prose and poetry, but in the latter it is in much
greater perfection than in the former. Poetry indeed contains a
recognized system of cadences, so divided as to present sensible
responses to the ear, at regular, proportioned, and convenient dis-
tances; prose, on the other hand, is composed of all sorts of cadences,
arranged without attention to obvious rule, divided into clauses that
have no ascertained proportion, and presenting no responses to the
ear at any legitimate or determined intervals.
The Conclusion. — The conclusion of the whole matter is, that a
part of the pleasure to be derived from a poetical arrangement of
syllables depends upon the perfection of its rhythm ; and the per-
fection of its rhythm depends upon its cadences being so arranged
as to give that precise mixture of uniformity with variety in the
sound, which is found to be most pleasing to the ear.
Bhyme.— Rhythm, however, is not the only source of pleasure in
verse. Another equally marked is to be found in Rhyme. Rhyme is
like Rhythm in one respect. It is something dependent upon sound,
and independent of the sense. The chiming of one syllable with
another, at certain regulated and recognized intervals, gives a pleas-
ure to the hearer entirely different from, and additional to, that de-
rived from the thought or meaning.
Division of the Subject.— Having thus shown in a general manner
what is the true foundation of verse, I proceed to explain some of
the terms used in reference to it, and to exhibit some of the forms
employed. This will be done under the several heads of Rhythm,
Rhyme, Blank Veese, Mixed Verse, Stanzas, Modeen Verse,
Elision.
I. RHYTHM.
Rhythm is the harmonious arrangement of syllables in ref-
erence to sound.
Versification.— Versification is simply the making of verses. It is
the mechanical part of poetry.
Poetry .— Poetry is a more general term, including versification and something
P
226 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
more important in addition. There may be correct versification without poetry.
There may indeed be correct verse without sense. A prominent exercise in the
Latin schools of England consists in making what are called " nonsense verses,"
the object being simply to train the ear to accuracy in the rules of prosody.
Verse is used in works on Prosody as synonymous with line.
A line is called a verse, from the Latin " verto," to turn, because at the end of
a line we turn back to begin a new line. In popular language verse is often used
incorrectly for "stanza."
Stanza. — A stanza is a number of lines taken together and so ad-
justed to each other as to form one whole. \
Couplet. — Two successive lines rhyming together form a couplet.
Triplet. — Three successive lines rhyming together form a triplet.
Quatrain. — A stanza of four lines is called a quatrain.
Foot. — Foot is synonymous with metre. It is the smallest part
or division of a line, being the unit by which a line is measured.
A foot includes an accented syllable and the unaccented syllable or syllables,
if there are any, which accompany it in making the accentual divisions of a
line.
Length of a Line. — The length of a line is expressed by the number
of accents or feet which it contains.
There is no natural or necessary limit to the length of a line. A line very
short, containing only one foot or two feet, is lacking in dignity and seriousness,
and is never used except as an occasional variety among lines of greater length.
On the other hand, very long lines fatigue the attention, and are now generally
abandoned.
Number of Lengths of Line. — Practically, we have in verse only
six varieties of length; namely, lines of one foot, two feet, three
feet, four feet, five feet, and six feet, and these lines are called
severally, Monometers, Dimeters, Trimeters, Tetrameters, Penta-
meters, and Hexameters.
Kind of Foot. — The kind of foot depends upon two things ; namely,
the number of unaccented syllables that are taken with the accented
one, and the position of the accented syllable with reference to these
unaccented ones.
The number of possible varieties depends of course upon the capabilities of
the vocal organs. We may have, in the first place, just as many varieties as we
can conveniently utter syllables before taking a fresh accent. We have thus : *
* In this chapter, the marks - - are used to indicate, not long and short syllables,
but accented and unaccented ones.
VERSIFICATION— RHYTHM. 227
Mercy", a foot of two syllables.
Merciful, a foot of three syllables.
Mercifully, a foot of four syllables, etc.
Each of these varieties, secondly, may be doubled, trebled, quadrupled, etc.,
according to the position of the accented syllable in reference to the unaccented
ones. Thus :
Merciful, ^
Referee, > all feet of three syllables,
Convention, J
yet all unlike, the first having the accented syllable at the beginning, the second
at the end, and the third in the middle.
Greeks and Latins. — The Greeks and the Latins nsed many more
varieties of feet than we do. Their syllables were divided into
longs and shorts, instead of accented and unaccented, and their
prosody was much more precise and determinate than ours. The
popular ear among them, being trained to greater accuracy and
uniformity in the pronunciation of syllables, admitted readily greater
variety in its feet.
Number of Kinds of Feet. — Practically, in English, we are limited
in verse to feet of two syllables and feet of three syllables, and to
two varieties of each, namely, with the accent either at the begin-
ning of the foot, or at the end.
This gives us our four varieties of feet in common use :
Iambus, | « - | awake ) -. _. . „ , ,
„, . ' - ~ > feet of two syllables.
Trochee, | - « | mercy J
Anapaest, |vv.| referee ) , . _ A. ,. ..
Dactyl, | - I v | merciful } feet °f three SyllableS-
We have a fifth kind of foot, consisting of two syllables both accented, as twi-
light, lamplight, outside, hearsay, etc. Such a foot is called a Spondee. But we
have no whole lines made up of spondees. Consequently we have no such thing
as spondaic verse.
Kinds and Varieties of Verse. — We have in English the four kinds
of verse, growing out of the kind of foot exclusively employed in
each, namely, Iambic, Trochaic, Anapaestic, and Dactylic; and in
each kind, six varieties, growing out of the number of feet used in
the line, namely, Monometer, Dimeter, Trimeter, Tetrameter, Penta-
meter, and Hexameter ; making, in all, twenty-four varieties.
These kinds and varieties are exhibited on pages 229, 230.
Formerly a Heptameter. or a line of seven feet, was much in use. What in
Hymnology is called Common Metre was once Heptameter. Thus: —
228 COMPOSITION AND RIlETORia
Hosanna to the Prince of Light, that clothed himself in clay ;
Entered the iron gates of death, and tore the bars away.
But long lines like this being found unwieldy, and inconvenient both for writing
and printing, they have been very generally broken into two lines, the first of
four feet, and the second of three feet. Thus : —
Hosanna to the Prince of Light,
That clothed himself in clay;
Entered the iron gates of death,
And tore the bars away.
Macaulay's Lays are an example. Part of them are printed as Heptameter
lines, and part are broken into lines alternately of four feet and three feet. The
Lay of Horatius begins thus : •
Lars Porsena of Clusium
By the Nine Gods he swore,
That the great house of Tarquin
Should suffer wrong no more.
It might just as well have been printed as follows :
Lars Porsena of Clusium by the Nine Gods he swore,
That the great house of Tarquin should suffer wrong no more.
The Lay of Virginia reads thus :
Ye good men of the Commons, with loving hearts and true.
Who stand by the bold Tribunes, that still have stood by you.
The metre and the rhythm are really the same as in Horatius, and the verse
might have been printed in the same way. Thus :
Ye good men of the Commons,
With loving hearts and true,
Who stand by the bold Tribunes,
That still have stood by you.
Iambic Verse. — Until quite recently, nine-tenths of English verse
was Iambic, and probably three-fourths of it Iambic Pentameter,
which is the English heroic verse, corresponding to the Hexameter
of the Greek and Latin.
Trochaic verses have been used, though sparingly, for two centu-
ries or more. Some of the most finished Trochaics in the language
are found in Dryden's Ode on St. Cecilia's Day :
| SSftly* | sw^et In | Lydiftn | measflres, |
I Soon hg | soothed his | soul to | pleasures. |
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honor but an empty bubble;
VERSIFICATION— RHYTHM. 229
Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying,
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, oh! think it worth enjoying:
Lovely Thais sits beside thee,
Take the goods the gods provide thee.
Poe's Raven is in trochaic measure :
| Once tip I on a | midnight | dreary, |
While I wandered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious
Volume of forgotten lore.
1. Iambic.
1. — Monometer, I « -
| awake |
2. — Dimeter, | w - | * - |
1 16 me | th6 rose |
3. — Trimeter, | v - 1 « - | v - J
| In plaices far | and near j
4. — Tetrameter, |« • |v . | « . | «. |
j and may | at last | my wea|ry age |
5. — Pentameter, |« - | * -|w- |v.|„ . |
| htiw loved | htiw val|u6d once | avails | thee not |
6.— Hexameter, | w . |«. |« . | -. | « -|« - |
j thy realm | f6rev|6r lasts | thy own | Messiah reigns |
2. Trochaic.
1. — Monometer, | - « |
| mercy |
2. — Dimeter, | - w | - w i
| on the | mountain |
3.— Trimeter, \ • « | - * | . v |
| when otir | hearts are | mourning j
4. — Tetrameter, | - «| . v | - v|- v |
| lovely | Thais | sits be | side thee |
S. — Pentameter, | •« | • v| - « | ■ « | - « |
| Satyrs | by" the | brooklet | love tti | dally |
6. — Hexameter, |-v|* v I - w I * *» j • v | • «* |
I on a | mountain | stretched be | neath a | hoary" | willtiw |
20
230 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Anapaests have been in current use for a long time.
Dactylio verse was almost unknown in English until the present
century. Even yet it is not in general use, although we have had
some brilliant examples of it.
3. Anapaestic.
1. — Monometer, | v « - |
| referee |
2. — Dimeter, | « « - I v v
| On the plain | as he strode |
3.— Trimeter, |« « - I v w" lw w - I
| f would hide | with the beasts | 6f the chase |
4. — Tetrameter, | w « -|« « - | « « - | « « -|
I when rep6|slng that night | 6n my pal | let 6f straw |
S. — Pentameter, |ww- « « - «« *|w w -
| 6n the warm | cheek 6f youth | the gay smile | and the rose
|ww - I
I ever blend |
6. — Hexameter, |« v- |« v . | « «-|«v
| but the leaves I are begin |nlng to wlth|er and droop
u w I v v » I
I and they die | In a day |
4. Dactylic.
1. — Monometer, - w |
| merciful |
2.— Dimeter, | - « w | - v v |
| take her Up | tenderly |
3. — Trimeter, | • v« |. v«| . w v |
| weary and | worn she a | waited th6e |
4. — Tetrameter, |-.« «|-« wf" •» v | • * «|
| faded the | vap6rs that | seemed t6 Cn| compass him j
S. — Pentameter, \ - « v|-w v|-w « | . « w
| life hath Its | pleasures but | fading are | they as the
I - — I
I floweret |
6. — Hexameter, |-« v|-w w . « « I - • *»
| over the I valley with | speed like the | wind all thft
I - - «l - — I
| steeds were a | galloping |
VERSIFICATION— RIIYME. 231
Witness the Boat Song in Scott's Lady of the Lake :
| Hail t6 the | chief whS In | triumph ad|vances!
Honored and blest be the evergreen pine !
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances.
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line !
Heaven send it happy dew,
Earth lend it sap anew,
Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow,
While every Highland glen
Sends our shout back again,
Roderick Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
Hood's Bridge of Sighs :
| One m6re un | fortunate, |
7 Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death!
Tennyson's Charge of the Light Brigade:
| CannSn t6 | right 6f them, |
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them.
Volleyed and thundered:
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of hell.
Rode the six hundred !
Heber's Epiphany Hymn :
| Brightest and | best 6f the | sons 6f the | morning, |
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid,
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
II. RHYME.
The mechanical arrangements which have been described in the
last few pages are for the purpose of perfecting the Rhythm, which
is one leading source of the pleasure derived from the form of poetry.
There is, however, in modern verse, an additional source of pleasure,
of the same nature as rhythm, so far at least that equally with
rhythm it depends upon sound, though quite unlike it in other re-
spects. I mean Rhyme.
Origin of Rhyme. — The origin of Rhyme is involved in some ob-
scurity. It has been attributed to the nations of Northern Europe,
232 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
to the Arabians, and to the early Christians. Rhyming hymns are
found among the writings of the Latin Fathers as early as the
fourth century. Some of the Latin hymns composed by the monks
of the middle ages are very sweet and beautiful. The following
lines are from a hymn on the Nativity, written by a German monk
of the ninth century.
Tribus signis
Deo dignis
Dies ista colitur:
Tria signa
Laude digna
Coetus his persequitur.
Stella magos
Duxit vagos
Ad praesepe Domini;
Congaudentes
Omnes gentes
Ejus psallunt nomini.
Etymology of Rhyme. — The word "rhyme" is of doubtful ety-
mology. It is sometimes traced to the Greek rheo, (peco,) which, how-
ever, would make rheum, not rhyme. The word is spelled by some
distinguished scholars " rln'me." Whatever be its orthography or its
etymology, its meaning is not a matter of doubt.
Definition. — Rhyme is a correspondence in sound between
syllables which, in the scheme of the verse, have some relation
to each other.
Explanation. — Not every correspondence in sound makes a rhyme.
It is only when the syllables so consounding are in some way related
to each other, as, for instance, each marking the end of a line, or
marking one part of a line corresponding to another part, and so on.
It is too much, we daily hear.
To wive and thrive both in one year.—Tusser.
In this example, "hear" and "year" are related to each other as
each marking the end of a line, and "wive" and "thrive" are re-
lated as marking corresponding parts of the same line.
Looation of Rhyme not Limited. — There is nothing in the nature
of Rhyme to limit its use to the end of a word, or to the end of a
line. It may be used legitimately at the beginning of a word, or at
the beginning, the middle, or even in the quarters of a line, and his-
VERSIFICATION— RHYME. 233
torically it is found in all these positions ; and in each it is subject to
laws which do not necessarily govern it elsewhere.
Ehyme Single, Double, etc. — Rhyme may be single, double, triple,
quadruple, etc., according to the number of syllables that chime
together.
Double rhymes are common.
Look not thou on beauty's charming,
Sit thou still when kings are arming,
Taste not when the wine-cup glistens,
Speak not when the people listens.— Scott.
Triple rhymes are more rare, and are mostly imitated from the
Italian, in which they abound.
Oh ye immortal gods, what is theogony f
Oh thou too mortal man. what is philanthropy f
Oh world that was, and is, what is cosmogony t
Some people have accused me of misanthropy :
And yet I know no more than the mahogany
That forms this desk, of what they mean :— Ly canthropy
I comprehend, for without transforma/ion
Men become wolves on every slight occasion. — Byron.
More Extended Bhymes. — Rhymes extending to more than three
syllables are found only among the Arabians and Persians, where
sometimes every line in a whole poem ends in the same sound, and
that sound extends to four and even five syllables.
Ehyme at the Beginning of a Word. — This is usually called Allite-
ration, and it admits of three varieties.
(1.) Where the correspondence of sound is between two initial consonants; as,
And now is religion a rider, a roamer by the streets,
A Zeader of fove-days, and a Zand-buyer.— Piers Plowman.
This is the old Saxon alliteration. It prevailed universally in the Anglo-Saxon
verse, and in that of many of the other northern nations cognate to the Saxons, and
formed indeed the governing law of their verse. In modern English this conso-
nantal alliteration is never used as a prevailing law of the verse, but occurs fre-
quently as an occasional variety, and often with striking and beautiful effect.
Silently sat the artist alone.
Carving a Christ from the ivory bone.
Little by little, with toil and pain,
He won his way through the sightless grain.
Boker's Ivory- Carver.
The strength he r/ains is from the embrace he gives.— Pope.
20*
234 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
(2.) Where the correspondence of sound is between two initial vowels.
This is said to have been a common method of rhyming among the Irish.* In
English it is used only as an occasional alliteration, and to give increased point
to an antithesis.
"Charm ache with air." — Shakespeare.
Oppression is the same
In italy or India, in Austria or Albany.
(3.) Where the correspondence in sound includes both a consonant and a vowel ;
as, nding, »%ming ; Addling, /feting.
Rhyme at the End of a Word. — This is the only kind of correspond-
ence in sound generally recognized as rhyme. This likewise admits
of three varieties.
(1.) Where the correspondence in sound is limited to the consonants following
the final vowel ; as, comprehend reprimand. This is not now recognized as legit-
imate rhyme, though said to have once been common.
(2.) Where the correspondence in sound includes the final vowel, the consonant
sound after it, and the consonant sound before it.
Bonaparte the rogue
The council did prorogue.
This is called the rich rhyme, and is said to be in favor among some races,
though distasteful to the English ear.
(3.) Where the correspondence in sound includes the final vowel and the con-
sonant sound after it ; as, shout, withotd.
This last is our common rhyme, and is the only one considered as
legitimate in modern English verse.
Conditions of Single Rhyme. — When it is intended in English to
make a single syllable rhyme to another in the manner most accept-
able to the ear, the following conditions are necessary :
(1.) The rhyming syllable should be an accented one. This rule is violated in
such an example as the following :
The fire oft times he kindfeM,
His hand therewith he singe-eth,
(2.) The vowel of the rhyming syllable, together with the consonant or conso-
nants following the vowel, should be of precisely the same sound in the two
syllables.
Thus " breath" does not rhyme to " heath." The consonant sounds are alike,
but the vowel sounds are not. So also " disease" does not rhyme to •* increase,"
because, while the vowel sounds are alike, the consonant sounds differ. It
should be observed too, in this connection, that rhyme is entirely a matter of
sound, not of spelling.
•Guest's English Rhythms, Vol. I., p. 117.
VERSIFICATION— RHYME. 235
Then, King of glory, come,
And with thy favor crown
This temple as thy dome,
This people as thy own.
In this example " come " and " dome," " crown " and " own," are very faulty
as rhymes, though corresponding entirely in the spelling.
(3.) The vowel in each of the rhyming syllables should be immediately pre-
ceded by a consonant, not by another vowel. Thus,
Howsoe'r
Greet the ear,
is not an agreeable rhyme. The vowels o and e. preceding the rhyming syllables,
produce an unpleasant hiatus. If a consonant is placed before one of them, as
Howsoe'er
Greet his ear.
the rhyme is improved, though still not perfectly agreeable. By putting, in like
manner, a consonant before the other, as
Now or ne'er
Greet his ear,
all objection is removed.
(4.) The consonantal sound thus immediately preceding the rhyming vowel
should differ in the two syllables. Thus omit, remit, abound, rebound, are not
agreeable rhymes. They constitute the objectionable rich rhyme, before described.
What the ear requires is a difference of consonantal sound immediately pre-
ceding the rhyming vowel.
(5.) When, in a stanza, two or more lines rhyme together, and two or more con-
tiguous lines have another and a different rhyme, that other rhyme should differ
from the first in its vowel as well as in its consonant sound. Thus, in a quatrain,
if the four lines should end severally in the words time, ride, crime, bide, the alter-
nation would not be entirely satisfactory, because of the continued recurrence
of the i sound. Change to time, rode, crime, bode, and the ear is satisfied ; the
alternation is complete.
Conditions of Double and Triple Rhyme. — When the two or three
final syllables of one word rhyme to the two or three final syllables
of another word, the first of the two or three syllables thus rhyming
together should be made to observe all the five conditions just given
for single rhyme ; but, in the remaining syllable or syllables, all the
elements of one, that is, the vowel, the consonant before it, and the
consonant after it, should sound exactly the same as the correspond-
ing elements in the other.
Thus: treas-ure, pleas-ure ; tink-ling, sprink-ling ; i>hi-lan-thropy, mi-san-thropy.
The rosy light is dawning
Upon the mountain's brow;
It is Sabbath morning,
Arise and pay thy vow.
236 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
The double rhymes in this example are incorrect, the first syllables in each,
" dawn- " and " morn- " not conforming to the conditions laid down for single
rhyme.
Position of the Rhyming Word in the Line. — I have spoken of the
place of the rhyme in the word to which it belongs. In this respect,
the rhyme may be placed at the beginning of a word, in which
case it is usually called alliteration, or it may be placed at the end
of a word, in which case it constitutes the true ordinary rhyme. It
now remains to speak of the place of the rhyming word in the line.
Usual Place. — In the more formal kinds of poetry, the rhyming
word is usually placed at the end of the line. This, however, is not
the only place where it can be legitimately used. Two sections of
the same line often rhyme to each other. The interlacings of the
rhymes in these ways in some of our poets is curious in the ex-
treme.
Then up with your cup, till you stagger in speech,
And match me this catch, though you swagger and screech.— Scott.
To feed my need, he will me lead
To pastures green &nd fat;
He forth brought me to libertie,
To waters delicate. — Archb. Parker.
Variety of Forms. — It would take a volume to set forth fully the
various forms of verse occasioned by changing the position and the
number of the rhymes. These forms are sometimes merely curious.
In other cases, however, they are used with almost magical effect.
And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold,
And ice mosX-high came floating by,
As green as emerald.— Coleridge.
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.— Tennyson.
Lightly and brightly breaks away
The morning from her mantle gray.— Byron.
It is too much, we daily hear,
To wive and thrive both in one year.— Tusser.
Yet none but one the sceptre long did sway
Whose conquering name endures until this day.— Wallace.
Let other poets raise a fracas
'Bout vines and wines and drunken Bacchus.— Burns.
VERSIFICATION— BLANK VERSE. 237
And then to see how ye 're negleckit,
How huff'd and cuff'd and disrespeckit.— Burns.
Freedom in Sectional Ehymes.— It is not essential that these sec-
tional rhymes should conform to all the conditions of rhyme at the
end of a line. Often an apt consonantal alliteration answers every
purpose.
But he has gotten to our grief
Ane to succeed him,
A chiel wha'll soundly buff our beef,
I muckle dread him.— .Burns.
And do I hear my Jennie own
That equal transports move her?
I ask for dearest life alone,
That I may live to love her.— Burns.
Her look was like the morning star.— Burns.
There is nothing of the kind in the language finer than the exam~
pie last quoted.
ni. BLANK VERSE.
Blank Verse is verse that does not rhyme.
Most of our blank verse is Iambic pentameter. In this are writ-
ten Milton's Paradise Lost, the Plays of Shakespeare, and three-
fourths at least of the rest of our heroic and dramatic verse. So
commonly indeed is this form observed by those who have written
blank verse, that many have imagined it to be the only form suited
to that species of composition. This, however, is a mistake. Blank
verse may be written with two, three, or four feet to the line, as
well as with five, and in trochaic, anapaestic, or dactylic measure, as
well as in iambic.
Boker's Song of the Earth contains a great variety of blank
verse, in different metres and in lines of different lengths ; as the
following in dactylic measure:
Hark to our | voices, O | mother of | nations !
Why art thou dim when thy sisters are radiant?
Or this in iambic :
O vex | me not. | ye ev|er burn|ing plan|ets;
Nor sister call me, ye who me afflict.
Or this in trochaic :
Daughter | of the | sober | twilight,
Lustrous planet, ever hanging.
238 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Longfellow's Hiawatha is a familiar specimen of blank verse in
trochaic tetrameter :
| Should y6u | ask me | whence these | stories, |
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest,
With the dew and damp of meadows,
With the curling smoke of wigwams,
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations,
As of thunder in the mountains?
Evangeline also is in blank verse, being hexameter, and mainly
dactylic.
IV. MIXED VERSE.
Law of English Verse. — The prevailing law of English
verse is that the feet in any one line shall all be of one kind,
that is, they shall all be iambuses, trochees, anapaests, or dac-
tyls, and the line be accordingly iambic, trochaic, anapaestic,
or dactylic.
Classic Verse Different. — In this, our verse differs essentially from
the verse of the ancients, in which feet of different kinds are mixed
together freely in the same line. In the Latin, for instance, the
heroic hexameter, with the exception of the sixth foot, may have
dactyls or spondees indifferently, according to the choice or conven-
ience of the writer; and these feet were variously combined to
suit the varying turn of the thought. A preponderance of dactyls
gave a rapid movement to the verse, suitable to a light, gay, or
beautiful subject, as in the familiar line of Virgil describing the
horse-race :
| Quadrupeidante pa|trem s6n!|tu quatlt | ungula | campum. |
In reading this line rapidly one seems almost to hear the clattering
of the horse's hoofs.*
A preponderance of spondees, on the other hand, made the move-
ment of the verse slow, stately, and solemn. An example familiar
* The same general effect was intended in the construction of the English hexame-
ter given on page 230. A similar and still more striking effect is produced hy two
lines of Longfellow's describing the galloping of a horse:
At each bound he could feel his scabbard of steel
Smiting his stallion's flanks.
VERSIFICATION— MIXED VERSE. 239
to all students of Virgil is that in which he describes the slow, heavy
motion of the Cyclops at work on the anvil :
| Oil' In |ter se|se mag|na vl | brachla | tollunt. |
Mixed Verse in English. — Some attempts have been made in Eng-
lish to write continued poems in this kind of mixed verse. The
most conspicuous example is Longfellow's Evangeline, which may
be described as a poem in blank verse, hexameter, and prevailingly
dactylic, but with a free intermixture of iambuses, trochees, ana-
paests, and spondees. The following lines will serve to illustrate the
point:
| This Is the I forest prfjmeval. The | murmuring | pines and the | hemlScks, |
| Beardgd with | moss and In | garments | green, Indlsjtinct In the | twilight, |
| Stand like | Druids 6f | old, with | voices | sad and pr6|phetlc. |
Of Doubtful Success. — Even the genius of Longfellow, who is one
of the best rhythmists known to our literature, has not yet quite
reconciled the English ear to this kind of verse. Our syllables and
accents are not sufficiently fixed and determinate to enable ordi-
nary readers to perceive the rhythmus without that conscious effort
which of itself mars the pleasure.
A Successful Specimen — Perhaps the most successful specimen
ever produced, of English verse constructed on the model of the
Latin hexameter, is the following:
| Clearly the | rest I be | hold 6f the | dark-eyed | sons 6f A|cMia; |
I Known to me | well are the | faces Sf | all ; their | names I re | member ; |
| Two, two | only re [main, wh6m I | see n6t a|mong the c6m|manders, |
Castor fleet in the car, Polydeuces brave with the cestus— |
Own dear brethren of mine,— one parent loved us as infants.
Are they not here in the host, from the shores of loved Laeedaemon,
Or, though they came with the rest in the ships that bound through the waters,
Dare they not enter the fight or stand in the council of heroes,
All for fear of the shame and the taunts my crime has awakened?
So said she; — they long since in Earth's soft arms were reposing
There, in their own dear land, their fatherland, Laeedaemon.— Hawtrey.
Condition of Success. — Mixed verse seems to succeed best when
combined with rhyme, and when the lines are comparatively short.
A fine example of this occurs in Longfellow's Golden Legend.
It is the soliloquy of Friar Claus in the wine-cellar of the convent.
| T al|ways en'ter this sa[cr£d place |
j With a thoQght|ful, sol|emn, and rev|erent pace, |
240 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
| Pausing | long e|nough 6n | each stair |
| T6 breathe | an ejac|ulato|ry prayer, |
| And a benjedicltlon on | the vines |
| Which produce | these va|r!6us sorts | 6f wines. |
Another equally signal example is found in Boker's Ivory-Carver.
| Silently" | sat the | artist a!16ne,
I Carving a | Christ from the | Iv6ry | bone.
I Little by little, | with toil | and pain, |
| H6 won | his way | thr6ugh the sight|iess grain, |
| That held | and yet hid | the thing | he sought, |
| Till the work | sto6d up, | a growling thought. |
Sheridan's Ride, by Read, and Barbara Frietchie, by Whittier, are
familiar examples of the same peculiarity.
| Up fr6m the | South at | break 6f | day,
j Bringing t6 | Winchester | fresh dls|may,
| The affright |ed air | with & shud|der bore, |
j Like a her | aid In haste, 1 16 the chief] tain's door, |
| The ter|rlbie grum|bie, and rum|bie, and roar, |
| Telling the | battle | was on | 6nce more, |
| And Sher|Idan twen|ty miles | away. |
| Up from the | meadtiws | rich with | corn,
| Clear In the | cool September | morn,
j The clus|ter'd spires | 6f Frederick stand, |
| Green-wall'd | by the hills | 6f Maryland. |
V. STANZAS.
A Stanza is a number of lines taken together, and so ad-
justed to each other as to form one whole.
A stanza may consist of almost any number of lines, from two upwards. la
the formation of stanzas, our poets have an unlimited license, which they have
used freely, and not always with entire discretion. Some particular stanzas have
acquired historical celebrity.
Rhythm-Royal. — The Rhythm-Royal, or seven-line stanza, invented
by Chaucer, is one of these. It is in iambic pentameter. Here is
an example from Shakespeare :
So on the tip of his subduing tongue, 1\
All kind of arguments and question deep, 2 -J
All replication prompt, and reason strong, 3 A
For his advantage still did wake and sleep: 4S
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep, 5
He had the dialect and different skill, f\
Catching all passions in his craft of will. 7
VERSIFICA TION— STANZAS. 241
Construction of the Stanza. — In this stanza, as will be seen by the
diagram, the first four lines make an ordinary quatrain, the lines
rhyming alternately ; the fifth line repeats the rhyme of the fourth,
and the last two form a couplet.
Spenserian Stanza. — Another still more celebrated stanza is that
invented by Spenser, and known as the Spenserian Stanza. It is
the stanza in which the Faerie Queene was written. The following
is the first stanza of that poem.
A gentle Knight was pricking on the plain,
Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde,
Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine,
The cruel markes of many a bloody fielde;
Yet armes till that time did he never wield:
His angry steede did chide his foaming bitt,
As much disdayning to the curbe to yielde:
Full jolly knight he seemed, and faire did sitt.
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.
Construction of the Stanza. — The Spenserian Stanza, as will be
seen from the foregoing diagram, consists of nine lines, all iambic
pentameter, except the last, which is hexameter.
In respect to the rhyme, the construction of the stanza is as fol-
lows: First, there are two ordinary quatrains, with lines rhyming
alternately. These quatrains are then tied together by the last line
of the first quatrain rhyming with the first line of the second qua-
train. After the two quatrains are thus completed, a ninth line is
added, rhyming with the eighth. This ninth line has a peculiar and
very pleasing effect. It seems to come in as a supplementary har-
mony,— a sort of "linked sweetness long drawn out," on which the
ear loves to linger.
Its Uses. — This stanza has been found to be peculiarly suited to
long poems. The most successful cultivator of it among recent
poets is Byron, a large part of whose poetry is written in it-
Sonnet Stanza. — Of all the stanzas that bear a recognized and well-
defined character, none is more elaborate in its construction than
that appropriated to the Sonnet.
Tts Construction. — The Sonnet stanza consists of fourteen lines, iambic pen-
tameter. It is divided into two distinct portions, called the Major and the Minor.
The Major division consists of eight lines, called an Octave, and has but two
rhymes. The Minor division consists of six lines, called the Sestette, and has
21 Q
242 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
sometimes three rhymes, sometimes two. The Octave is composed of two
quatrains; in each quatrain, the first and fourth lines form one rhyme, the
second and third form the other. Furthermore, the rhyme of the first and
fourth in one quatrain is the same as the rhyme of the first and fourth in the
other; also, that of the second and third in one is the same as that of the second
and third in the other. Thus the whole Octave is thoroughly compacted and
knit together, while each of the two parts has an organization of its own. The
Sestette is not so fixed and rigid in its structure. One of its most common
forms is contained in the following Sonnet from Milton. In this there are three
rhymes; the first line rhymes to the fourth, the second to the fifth, and the third
to the sixth. Thus the Sestette, equally with the Octave, is thoroughly knit to-
gether and compacted in itself. Unity of the Whole.— To prevent the two
parts from swaying apart, care is usually taken that there shall be no gram-
matical break in passing from the one to the other, and thus the whole structure
is made one.*
1 When I consider how my life is spent
2 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
3 And that one talent, which is death to hide,
4 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
5 To serve therewith my Maker, and present
6 My true account, lest he, returning chide;
7 "Doth God exact day -labor, light denied?"
8 I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
9 That murmur, soon replies, " God doth not need
10 Either man's work, or his own gifts. Who best
11 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
12 Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
13 And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
14 They also serve who only stand and wait."
Psalm and Hymn Stanzas. — The variety of stanzas in successful
use is almost endless. It would be impossible in a work like this to
describe, or even enumerate them. It may be proper, however, to
notice briefly those most commonly used in psalms and hymns for
public worship. The three most common of all are those known
severally as Long, Short, and Common Metre. These are all qua-
trains, and all in iambic metre; so far they agree. But the Long
Metre stanza consists of tetrameters; the Common Metre has its
first and third lines tetrameter, and its second and fourth trimeter;
the Short Metre has the first, second, and fourth lines trimeter,
while its third is tetrameter.
The following formula exhibits to the eye the construction of
these three familiar stanzas:
♦See the "Book of the Sonnet." by Leitrh Hunt and S. Adams Lee (Roberts
Brothers) !"<>r ail exhaustive discussion of everything pertaining to the history and
structure of the Sonnet.
VERSIFICATION— STANZAS. 243
Long Metre.
|w-|v-|v-|v-
|v-|v-|v-|v-
| v - I - - I - - I * -
I v - I w - I v - I w -
Common Metre.
| w - I v - | „ - | * - |
i •: - I r '- I - - I
|v-|v-|.-|w-|
I i - I , - I * - I
Short Metre.
I - " I « " I - " I
| „ - | v - I w - I
|„-|v-|v-|v-|
In respect to rhyme, the stanzas vary. Sometimes the lines
rhyme together in couplets, the first rhyming to the second, and
the third rhyming to the fourth. Thus :
Lord, thou hast searched and seen me through;
Thine eye commands with piercing view
My rising and my resting hours,
My heart and flesh, with all their powers.
Sometimes the rhyme alternates, the first responding to the third,
and the second to the fourth.
Before Jehovah's awful throne,
Ye nations bow with sacred joy :
Know that the Lord is God alone:
He can create, and he destroy.
Frequently also the first and third are without rhyme.
Almighty God, thy word is cast,
Like seed, upon the ground;
Now let the dew of heaven descend,
And righteous fruits abound.
Long Particular Metre. — One stanza, in which a few of our
hymns are written, is called Long Particular Metre. It is in iambic
metre, and consists of six lines, all tetrameter, the third and sixth
rhyming together, and the others rhyming in couplets. The effect
244 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
is very pleasing to the ear, and it seems rather surprising that the
stanza has not been more cultivated by our hymn writers. The
following is an example :
I'll praise my Maker with my breath,
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers:
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life and thought and being last,
Or immortality endures.
Hallelujah Metre. — Another stanza of considerable celebrity among
psalms and hymns is that known as Hallelujah Metre. It is in iambic
metre, and consists of eight lines. The first four are trimeters,
rhyming alternately. The last four are dimeters, with the first
rhyming to the fourth, and the second rhyming to the third. Thus:
Lord of the worlds above,
How pleasant and how fair
The dwellings of thy love,
Thy earthly telnplgs are !
To thine abode
My heart aspires
With warm desires,
To see my God.
The sixth and seventh lines are often printed as one. Thus :
They go from strength to strength,
Through this vale of tears,
Till each arrives at length,
Till each in heaven appears;
O glorious seat,
Where God our King shall thither bring
Our willing feet!
Other Metres. — No names have been given to the various stanzas
invented for those hymns which are in trochaic, anapcestic, or dac-
tylic metre. In the hymn-books, they are absurdly called 6's, 7's,
8's, etc., according to the number of syllables in a line, as if that
alone gave any clue to the rhythmic movement.
With all my powers of heart and tongue
is 8's just as much as
Guide me, O thou great Jehovah.
The difference between the lines is not in the number of syllables,
but in the movement. One is iambic, the other trochaic.
VERSIFICA TION— STANZAS. 245
The proper way of designating such metres is to add the name of
the verse (that is Anapaestic, Dactylic, Trochaic, etc.,) immediately
after the figures representing the number of syllables. Thus :
" Saviour, visit thy plantation," — 8's, 7's, 4's, Trochaic.
"Jesus, lover of my soul,1' — 7's, Trochaic.
"Sweet the moments, rich in blessing," — 8's and 7's, Trochaic.
"I would not live alway : I ask not to stay," — ll's, Anapaestic.
"Thou'rt gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee," —
12's and ll's, Anapcestic.
"The voice of free grace cries, Escape to the mountain," — 12's,
Anapmtic.
"Daughter of Zion, awake from thy sadness," — ll's, alternately
Dactylic and Anapcestic.
"Brightest and best of the sons of the morning," — ll's and 10's,
Dactylic.
"Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish," — ll's and 10's,
Dactylic.
The formulas for these metres are exhibited in the following
tables :
8's, 7's, 4's, Trochaic.
8. | - v | - r | - * | - * |
7. [ — | — | — ! -
8. | - W | - V | - V | - V |
7. | _ w | _ w | _ v | _
4. | - * | - - |
7. | - V | - V | - * | - .
7's, Trochaic. J
7. |-w|-v|-v|-
7. | - - | - - | - * | -
7. | - - J - v f -> | -
7. | - W | - V | - V | -
8's and 7's, Trochaic.
8. | - „ | _ . | _ . | - „ |
7. | - „ | - « | - • | -
8. | - v | - W | - - | - V |
7. | - V | - „ | - V | -
21*
246 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
ll's, Anapaestic,
11. w - | w w - I w w - I w w - I
11. W _ I WW _ I w M _ I w W _ I
11. w - I w v - I w „ - I w w - I
11. w— I w w — I ww— 1 wv— I
12's and ll's, Anapastic.
12. w - | w w - | w w - | w w - I „
11. w - I w w - I w w - I w w - I
12. w - I w w - I w w - I w w - I V
11. w - I w w - I w w - I w w - I
12's, Anapaestic.
12. w - | w w - I w w - I w w - I V
12. w - I w w - I w w - I w w - I w
12. w - I w w - I w w - I w w - I w
12. w - I w w - I w w - I w w - I w
ll's, alternately Dactylic and Anap»3tict
11. |-ww| |_w„|_v (Dactylic.)
11. v-|ww-|ww-|ww-| (Anapaestic.)
11. |_ww|-ww|-ww|-w (Dactylic.)
11. w-|ww-|ww-|ww-| (Anapaestic)
ll's and 10's Dactylic.
11. | _ v w | - w w | - w w | - w
10. | - w w | - w w | - w w | -
11. I _ w w I _ w w I _ w w I _ w
10. I - w w I - w w I - w w I _
"Begone, unbelief, my Saviour is near," is usually designated as
10's and ll's. The true construction of these stanzas is obscured
by the way in which it is printed. For typographical convenience
and economy of space, two lines are printed as one. If the hymn
be printed in stanzas of eight lines, the true construction will at
once appear, and the proper designation will be 5's and 6's, Ana-
paestic. Thus :
I
Begone, unbelief,
5. v -
| WW
My Saviour is near,
5. w -
| WW
And for my relief,
5. - -
| WW
Will surely appear:
5. v -
| WW
VERSIFICATION— MODERN VERSE. 247
By prayer let me wrestle, 6. w - | « « _ | w
And He will perform; 5. » - j » •»,- |
With Christ in the vessel, 6. * - J v v - | . w
I smile at the storm. 5. * - I w w - I
VI. MODERN VERSE ACCENTUAL, NOT SYLLABIC.
Modern poetry, especially English poetry, is distinguished
from that of the ancients by the manner in which the verses
are measured, or rather by the manner in which we obtain
the foot or measuring unit.
Ancient Verse. — In Latin and Greek, syllables are divided into
long and short, two short syllables being counted as equal to one
long. A foot in those languages is determined by the length of
time occupied, — and the law of the verse is satisfied by making the
foot of the right length, without reference to the number of syllables
or the position of the accent.
Example.— Take for instance the word fund'us, and its derivatives funda'men,
fundament'um. In these three words, the syllable fund- is invariably long. No
shifting of the accent, no change of termination, affects the character of that
syllable, or its availability for the purpose of versification. It still makes one-
half a foot. On the other hand, in the English words hu'man, human'ity, human-
Ua'rian, the availability of the first syllable hu- for versification, is changed by
the changing of the accent. According to this view,
Rights of English Syllables. — A syllable in English has no inher-
ent, indefeasible rights of its own, but is subject to the caprice of
the accent^ which makes the same identical syllable, now the third,
and now the half, of a foot, now a part of an iambus, now of a tro-
chee, now of an anapaest, and now of a dactyl.
The Difference. — Modern verse is governed by the accent;
ancient verse was governed by the syllables, which had cer-
tain fixed and determinate lengths. Modern verse, therefore,
is accentual ; ancient verse was syllabic.
Importance of this Distinction. — This distinction, once made thor-
oughly familiar, will save a world of technical rules, and will throw
light upon many points connected with the versification of Chaucer,
Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton, which were stumbling-blocks to
Pope and Dryden. The four poets first named, whether with or
248 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
without any definite theory on the subject, wrote according to the
genius of the language and the dictates of a cultivated ear. That
is, they wrote accentual verse. The two latter, desiring to refine
upon the subject, and not comprehending in this respect the true
genius of modern verse, attempted to subject it to the rules of the
classic models.
Mistake of Pope and Dryden. — Setting out with an erroneous theory
of what English verse ought to be, they found in their predecessors
much that was pronounced faulty, that was at least contrary to the
arbitrary rules which they had made for the government of verse,
although they could not but pronounce even the objectionable pas-
sages highly beautiful and harmonious. Their procedure in this
respect was about as wise as it would be for a painter to represent
the Cavaliers and the Roundheads, or the Canterbury Pilgrims,
dressed in the tunic and toga of the old Romans.
Present Opinion. — A more advanced stage of criticism has drawn
clearly the line between ancient verse and modern, and shown
wherein lie the genius and strength of the latter. It has also res-
cued English verse from the Procrustean bed upon which it was
about to be stretched, and has restored it to the freedom of limb
characteristic of its northern birth.
Present State of English Verse. — English verse for the last half
century has been better in every respect than that of the half cen-
tury of which Alexander Pope was the centre.
VII. ELISION.
One of the points about which the critics have been divided
is the elision of vowels.
Take the following examples :
| Blest as | tlit tromorltal gods | is he. |
| A pill|Sr of stale | deep on | his front | engraven. |
Explanation. — In each of these examples, the foot printed in italics
gives us three syllables where by analogy only two are expected.
Such examples afford not the slightest difficulty, when we have once
admitted that our verse is accentual, not syllabic. The two syllables
which here accompany the accent are such as can easily be sounded
VERSIFICA TION— ELISION. 249
while the organs are recovering their position for making a fresh
accent, and occupy only the time ordinarily occupied by one syllable.
Mistake of the Older Critics. — Some of the older critics supposed
that, because the examples are from iambic verse, where the feet
consist of two syllables, these particular feet must be reduced to
two syllables, both in pronunciation and in writing. Hence in such
cases these words are written "th1 immortal," and "phTr," and are
pronounced accordingly.
Examples. — Among the thousands of words which thus suffered syncope may
be named enmy, destny, victry, prisn, weltring, admant, etc. These words, in such
cases, are sometimes written as just given, and sometimes with an apostrophe over
the place where the elision has taken place, as en' my, desfny, vicVry, pris'n, etc.
The True Solution. — According to the theory now received, there
should be no elision, either in writing or in pronunciation. The
whole word should be written out, and the two syllables which thus
occupy the place of one should both be pronounced, but pronounced
lightly so as to occupy only the time of one. This is no more than
is done in all anapaestic and dactylic verse, and why trochaic and
iambic verse should not be varied by occasional mixtures of anapaests
and dactyls is more than I can comprehend.
Requirements of Modern Verse. — The rhythm of modern verse,
be it repeated, is governed by the accent, not by the number or the
length of the syllables. The beauty of the rhythm depends, indeed,
in a great measure, upon uniformity in the movement. If a number
of lines consists of iambuses, that is, of feet of two syllables with
the accent on the last, the ear gets accustomed to that movement,
and expects it to occur regularly. This uniform movement gives
ease to the reader and pleasure to the hearer. At the same time it
may give satiety. Too uniform a rhythm may produce monotony.
Variety Allowed. — A poet, either to interrupt this monotony, or
to attract attention, or to mark some transition in the thought or
feeling, may legitimately insert into one of these lines a foot with
the accent on the first syllable. That is, he may make a mixed
verse, putting an occasional trochee into iambic verse, or iambuses
into trochaic, etc. In like manner, if a number of lines consists of
feet, in which there are two unaccented syllables to every accented
one, the ear expects a continuance of the same. For the purposes
just
250 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
dactyls, or dactyls by anapaests, or either of them by iambuses
and trochees.
Examples for Practice.
[Note.— The extracts which follow are intended to illustrate some of the vari-
eties of metre and stanza. The student is expected to bring the passages in, copied
on paper, with the versification marked. In marking the versification, the fol-
lowing process is recommended : .
1. Each syllable that is sounded should be marked, as being accented or unac-
cented. For this purpose, we use for convenience the marks generally employed
for long and short, namely, - for accented, and « for unaccented. Thus:
1. Ring out the old, ring In the new.
2. Why lament the Christian dying?
3. The voice 6f free grace cries, escape t& the mountain.
4. Hail t6 the chief who In triumph advances.
2. When a number of lines in any piece have been thus marked, the student
must determine, which he can then do almost by inspection, whether the move-
ment is Iambic. Trochaic, Anapaestic, or Dactylic (see pp. 229, 230;, and must mark
it off accordingly into feet. Thus :
1. | Ring out | the old, | ring in | the new. |
2. | Why la | ment the | Christian | dying? |
3. | The voice | 6f free grace | cries, escape 1 16 the mount lain.
4. | Hall tS the | chief wh6 In | triumph advances.
3. The proper designation should then be given to the verse, as being iambic,
trochaic, etc., and as being monometer, dimeter, trimeter, etc. (see pp. 229, 230).
Thus, in the lines here given, No. 1 is Iambic tetrameter, No. 2 is Trochaic tetram-
eter, No. 3 is Anapaestic tetrameter (the additional syllable at the end making
up for the syllable wanting at the beginning), and No. 4 is Dactylic trimeter, with
two syllables over.
4. In case of the passage rhyming, the rhyme should be described as being in
couplets, quatrains, sonnet-metre, etc., and the formula for the rhyme and the
stanza should be given, as on pages 240-247.]
1. Nobody knew how the fisherman brown,
With a look 'of despair that was 'half a frown,
Faced his fate on that furious night,
Faced the mad billows with hunger white,
Just within hail of a beacon light,
That shone on a woman fair and trim
Waiting for him. — Lucy Larcom.
2. And the sinuous paths of lawn and of moss,
Which led through the garden along and across,
Some open at once to the sun and the breeze,
Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees,
VERSIFICATION— EXAMPLES. 251
Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells,
As fair as the fabulous asphodels,
And flow'rets which, drooping as day drooped too,
Fell into pavilions white, purple, and blue,
To roof the glow-worm from the evening dew. — Shelley.
3. Hark to the solemn bell
Mournfully pealing!
What do its wailings tell,
On the ear stealing?
Seem they not thus to say,
Loved ones have passed away?
Ashes with ashes lay,
List to its pealing.
t. 'Mid scenes of confusion and creature cpmplaints,
How sweet to the soul is communion with saints;
To find at the banquet of mercy there 's room,
And feel in the presence of Jesus at home!
5. High in yonder realms of light,
Dwell the raptured saints above;
Far beyond our feeble sight,
Happy in Immanuel's love.
6. From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand;
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand;
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain. — Ueber.
7. Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing :
Fill our hearts with joy and peace;
Let us each, thy love possessing,
Triumph in redeeming grace ;
O refresh us,
Travelling through this wilderness.
252 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
\ ^ \. y \ „ -
8. Saviour, breathe fin evening^ blessing
Ere repose our spirits seal :
Sin and want we come confessing,
Thou canst save and thou canst heal.
Though destruction walk around us,
Though the arrow near us fly,
Angel-guards from thee surround us,
We are safe if thou art nigh.
9. Sometimes a light surprises
The Christian while he sings;
It is the Lord who rises,
With healing in his wings ;
When comforts are declining,
He grants the soul again
A season of clear shining,
To cheer it after rain.
10. Encompassed with clouds of distress,
Just ready all hope to resign,
I pant for the light of thy face,
And fear it will never be mine.
11. How happy are they
Who the Saviour obey,
And have laid up their treasures above!
O what tongue can express
The sweet comfort and peace
Of a soul in its earliest love?
12. When through the torn sail the wild tempest is streaming,
When o'er the dark wave the red lightning is gleaming,
Nor hope lends a ray, the poor seaman to cherish,
We fly to our Master; "Save, Lord, or we perish."
13. When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain;
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.— Campbell.
VERSIFICATION— EXAMPLES 253
14. This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given;
The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow —
There 's nothing true but heaven ! — Moore.
15. I saw from the beach when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on:
I came, when the sun o'er that beach was declining —
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone. — Moore.
16. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar ;
I love not man the less, but nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
"What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. — Byron.
17. Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 'tis early morn;
Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle-
horn.
'Tis the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call,
Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall.
Tennyson.
18. You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear;
To-morrow '11 be the happiest time of all the glad new-year ;
Of all the glad new-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day ;
For I 'm to be Queen-o'-the-May, mother, I 'm to be Queen-o'-
the-May. — Tennyson.
19. Airy, fairy Lilian,
Flitting, fairy Lilian,
When I ask her if she loves me,
Clasps her tiny hands above me,
Laughing all she can;
She'll not tell me if she loves me,
Cruel little Lilian. — Tennyson.
254 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
20. Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures,
Whilst the landscape round it measures;
Russet lawns, and fallow gray,
"Where the nibbling flocks do stray;
Mountains on whose barren breast
The laboring clouds do often rest;
Meadows trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks, and river wide:
Towers and battlements it sees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps some beauty lies. — Milton.
21. Spake full well in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. — Longfellow.
22. O, the Rose of Granada was blooming full-blown,
And she laughed at the suitors who thought her their own,
Till there came from Morocco the Moor, Ala Jaerr,
And he tossed from his spear-head the horse-tails in air,
Saying, "List to me, lady;
For hither I 've flown,
O Rose of Granada,
To make thee my own." — BoTcer.
23. There was a gay maiden lived down by the mill —
Ferry me over the ferry —
Her hair was as bright as the waves of a rill,
When the sun on the brink of his setting stands still,
Her lips were as full as a cherry. — Boker.
24. Thou lingering star, with lessening ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher'st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn. — Burns.
25. At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill,
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove:
VERSIFICATION— EXAMPLES. 255
'T was thus, by the cave of the mountain afar,
While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit began:
No more with himself or with nature at war,
He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man. — Beattie.
26. Vital spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, oh, quit this mortal frame;
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying —
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life ! — Pope.
27. Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,
And still where many a garden flower grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose. — Goldsmith.
28. The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on dark Galilee. — Byron.
29. At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power;
In dreams, through camp and court, he bore
The trophies of a conqueror;
In dreams, his song of triumph heard;
Then wore his monarch's signet ring;
Then press'd that monarch's throne, — a king:
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing,
As Eden's garden bird. — Halleck.
30. Long years had elapsed since I gazed on the scene,
Which my fancy still robed in its freshness of green —
The spot where a schoolboy, all thoughtless, I stray'd,
By the side of the stream, in the gloom of the shade.
31. Men of thought! be up and stirring night and day;
Sow the seed — withdraw the curtain — clear the way.
Men of action, aid and cheer them, as ye may !
256 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
There's a fount about to stream,
There's a light about to beam,
There's a warmth about to glow,
There's a flower about to blow;
There 's a midnight blackness changing into gray.
Men of thought and men of action, clear the way!
32. I come from the ether, cleft hotly aside,
Through the air of the soft summer morning;
I come with a song as I dash on my way, —
Both a dirge and a message of warning:
No sweet, idle dreams, nor romance of love,
Nor poet's soft balm-breathing story
Of armor-clad knight, at tournament gay,
Where a scarf was the guerdon of glory ; —
"Whistling so airily
Past the ear warily,
Watching me narrowly,
Crashing I come!
[Song of the Cannon-Ball.]
33. There 's a game much in fashion, — I think it 's called euchre,
(Though I never have played it for pleasure or lucre,) —
In which, when the cards are in certain conditions,
The players appear to have changed their positions,
And one of them cries, in a confident tone, —
M 1 think I may venture to go it alone ! " — Saxe.
34. One by one the" sands are flowing,
One by one the moments fall ;
Some are coming, some are going :
Do not -strive to grasp them all. — A. Procter.
35. I will go to my tent, and lie down in despair;
I will paint me with black, and will sever my hair;
I will sit on the shore where the hurricane blows,
And reveal to the god of the tempest my woes;
I will weep for a season on bitterness fed,
For my kindred are gone to the hills of the dead;
But they died not by hunger, or lingering decay, —
The steel of the white man hath swept them away:
VERSIFTCA TION— EXAMPLES. 257
My wife, and my children, — oh, spare me the tale !
For who is there left that is kin to Geehale!
[Indian 's Lament.]
86. Oh! a wonderful stream is the river Time,
As it runs through the realm of tears,
"With a faultless rhythm, and a musical rhyme,
And a broader sweep and a surge sublime,
As it blends in the ocean of years ! — B. F. Taylor.
87. 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.
38. Stand here by my side, and turn, I pray,
On the lake below, thy gentle eyes;
The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray,
And dark and silent the water lies;
And out of that frozen mist the snow
In wavering flakes begins to flow;
Flake after flake,
They sink in the dark and silent lake. — Bi*yant.
39. The mighty master smiled to see
That love was in the next degree;
'T was but a kindred strain to move ;
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures:
"War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honor but an empty bubble";
Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying:
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, on, think it worth enjoying!
Lovely Thais sits beside thee;x
Take the good the" gods provide thee.
The many rend the skies with loud applause;
So love was crown'd ; but music won the cause. — DryoZen.
22* R
258 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
40. Forth into the mighty forest
Rushed the madden'd Hiawatha;
In his heart was deadly sorrow,
In his face a stony firmness,
On his brow the sweat of anguish
Started, but it froze and fell not. — Longfellow.
41. With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread, —
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch,
She sang the " Song of the Shirt." — Hood.
42. A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,
There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of
woman's tears;
But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood ebbed
away,
And bent, with pitying glances, to hear what he might say.
The dying soldier faltered, as he took that comrade's hand,
And he said : I never more shall see my own, my native land:
Take a message, and a token, to some distant friends of mine,
For I was born at Bingen, — at Bingen on the Rhine.
Mrs. Norton.
43. There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,
But has one vacant chair! — Longfellow.
44. There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,
And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;
In the time of my childhood, 'twas like a sweet dream,
To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. — Moore.
45. Whom do we dub as gentleman? The knave, the fool, the
brute,
If they but own full tithe of gold, and wear a courtly suit 1
VERSIFICATION— EXAMPLES. 259
The parchment scroll of titled line, — the ribbon at the knee,
Can still suffice to ratify and grant such high degree !
46. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day;
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea;
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me. — Gray.
47. 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.
U1T is some visitor," I muttered, " tapping at my chamber-door —
Only this, and nothing more."" — Poe.
48. Singing through the forests,
Rattling over ridges,
Shooting under arches,
Rumbling over^ bridges ;
"Whizzing through the mountain,
Buzzing o'er* the vale,
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Riding on the rail ! — Saxe,
49. I sometimes have thought in my loneliest of hours,
That lie on my heart like the dew on the flowers,
Of a ramble I took, one bright afternoon,
When my heart was as light as a blossom in June.
The green earth was moist with the late-fallen showers,
The breeze fluttered down and blew open the flowers;
While a single white cloud floated off in the west,
On the white wing of peace, to its haven of rest.
50. 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;
260 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
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.
51. Speak gently of the erring, — oh! do not thou forget,
However darkly stained by sin, he is thy brother yet :
I Heir of the selfsame heritage, child of the selfsame God,
He hath but stumbled in the path thou hast in weakness trod.
F. G. Lee.
52. Oh ! a dainty plant is the ivy green
That creepeth o'er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,
In his cell so low and cold.
The walls must be crumbled, the stones decayed;
To pleasure his dainty whim;
And the mouldering dust that years have made
Is a merry meal for him.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the ivy green. — Dickens.
CHAPTER VII.
POETRY.
Defective Definitions. — Most of the definitions of Poetry which
have been proposed are open to the objection that they apply
equally well to certain kinds of prose. They describe what is poet-
ical, rather than what is poetry. Passages without number in the
prose writings of Milton, in Jeremy Taylor, in Pilgrim's Progress,
in Euskin, in Hawthorne, and in many other imaginative writers,
are thoroughly poetical, but they are not poetry.
Indispensable Conditions. — Nothing is really poetry unless it is in
verse.* This is an indispensable condition. Not, however, the only
condition.
"Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November,"
is verse, but it is not poetry. In order that anything may be truly
accounted poetry, it must, in the first place, be in the form of verse,
and, secondly, it must be poetical in its essence. What constitutes
verse has been shown in the previous chapter. It remains now to
show what makes a thing poetical.
Poetical in Essence. — A piece of composition is essentially
poetical when it has these three marks : 1. It is the product
* " Notwithstanding all that has been advanced by some French critics, to prove
that a work not in metre may be a poem, universal opinion has always given a con-
trary decision." — Whately.
One reason why writers on this subject have generally failed in their definition of
it, is that they have begun wrong. Verse being an essential condition of poetry, we
should begin by defining verse, and from that proceed to a definition of poetry.
When that which is in itself poetical is put in the form of verse, we have Poetry.
261
262 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
of an excited imagination. 2. It is the product of a creative
imagination. 3. Its primary object is to please.
Let us consider each of these points.
1. An Excited Imagination. — Poetry is the product of an excited
imagination. Shakespeare refers to this quality, when he speaks of
uthe poet's eye in a, fine frenzy rolling." The poetical is distin-
guished, in this respect, from the prosaic, by being raised above
what is merely narrative, descriptive, argumentative, or scientific.
The mind, in producing anything poetical, is always raised above
its ordinary level of thought and feeling.
2. A Creative Imagination. — Poetry is equally the product of a
creative imagination. The word poet (Gr., Uoitjttjq) means a maker.
The poet is one who creates new forms of thought. This quality is
also referred to by Shakespeare, when he speaks of the poet's body-
ing forth the forms of things " unknown," and giving name and
place to uairy nothing."
The Process seems to be this : The imagination first becomes excited, and
then, when thus excited, it becomes creative. Both parts of this process are ex-
pressed in the passage already referred to :
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ;
And, as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
3. Primary Object to Please. — The primary object of poetry is to
please. This quality distinguishes it from Oratory, and some of the
other higher kinds of prose, which often have the first and second
qualities here named, but not the third. Their primary object is
not to please, but to move and persuade.
When Daniel Webster* uttered the concluding passage of his memorable reply
*" When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven,
may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glo-
rious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil
feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering
glance rather behold the glorious ensign of the Republic, now known and honored
throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming In
their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obsouml, bearing
for its motto, no such miserable interrogatory as—' What is all this worth ?' nor those
other words of delusion and folly — ' Liberty first, and Union afterward ; ' but every-
where, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as
they float over the sea and over the land, and in everv wind under the whole heavens,
that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart,— * Liberty and Union,
NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE!'"
POETRY— EPIC. 263
to Hayne, in the Senate of the United States, he was under the influence of a
powerfully excited imagination, his eye, no doubt, "in a fine frenzy rolling;"
and the ideas and forms of thought bodied forth by him were as truly the work
of a creative imagination as anything ever penned by Shakespeare or Milton.
Such a passage also undoubtedly gives pleasure. But that is not its primary
object. Had there been a suspicion, in the case just cited, that the object of that
sublime burst of eloquence was merely to excite applause, the speaker would
have been hooted out of the Senate in contempt.
From these elements it is not difficult to proceed to a definition
of poetry.
Definition of Poetry. — Poetry may be defined to be the
product of an excited and a creative imagination, with a
primary object to please, and expressed in the form of verse.
Belation to other Arts. — Poetry is one of the Fine Arts, and is
thereby allied to Music, Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, in all
of which the primary object is to please.
Kinds of Poetry. — The different kinds of poetry may be con-
veniently included under the heads of Epic, Dramatic, Lyric, Elegiac,
Didactic, Satiric, and Pastoral.
I. EPIC POETRY.
An Epic Poem is a poetical recital of some great and
heroic enterprise.
Its High Character. — Epic poetry is universally admitted to be the
highest and most difficult kind of poetical composition. The num-
ber of successful Epics is accordingly very limited. Most civilized
nations have one, few have more than one. The three Epics of
greatest celebrity are Homer's Iliad in Greek, Virgil's JEneid in
Latin, and Milton's Paradise Lost in English.
The chief qualities of an Epic poem are the following :
1. The first condition of an Epic poem is that its subject
should be great and heroic.
The Iliad. — This poem narrates the siege and downfall of Troy,
the most memorable event in the early history of the Trojans and
the Greeks, the two most renowned nations of antiquity.
264 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
The JEneid. — This has for its subject the perils and labors of
iEneas, the reputed founder of the Roman race, in laying the foun-
dations of that great nation and city, which became and long con-
tinued to be the mistress of the world.
Paradise Lost. — Milton's theme is grander still, involving the
interests, not of one nation merely, but of the whole human race,
and not of men merely, but of the great angelic host, and even cele-
brating in lofty strains the very "throne and equipage of God's
almightiness."
So it will be found, in regard to every poem that has been gen-
erally received as an Epic, that its subject is one that can be truly
regarded as great. It must be one that involves momentous inter-
ests, and that calls for the display of heroic achievements.
2. The second condition of an Epic poem is that it should
form a completed and connected whole.
Unity of the Epic. — This is what is generally known as the Unity
of the Epic. By this is meant that there is some one important
event or achievement which is set before the reader as the main
end of the story. Not only all the particular incidents must have
relation to this event, and be kept in subordination to it, but this
event must be given in its completeness, so that when we are through
with the poem we feel that we have the whole story.
How Produced. — In producing this completeness, poets usually
employ the artifice of beginning in the middle or near the close of
the story, and weaving in the antecedent parts by means of conver-
sation among the actors. Thus the JEneid begins with the ship-
wreck of the hero off the coast of Carthage, after he has gone
through nearly three-fourths of his labors and exploits. Being in-
vited to a great feast by Queen Dido, he, at her request, entertains
the company with a narrative of the antecedent parts of his story.
Method of Poetical Narrative. — So in the case of every great epic.
The poet does not proceed in the manner of a history, but dashes
at once into the very midst of the events, about the time that they
are getting to be most highly interesting, the early causes and ante-
cedents necessary to the completeness of the whole being brought
in, from time to time, in an incidental way. This method of pro-
POETRY— EPIC. 265
ceeding makes the whole more picturesque, and produces a more
powerful effect upon the imagination.
3. A third condition of an Epic poem is that it should have
its hero.
Explanation. — There should be some one principal actor, in whose
exploits and destiny we are more interested than in those of any
other. This feature is perhaps implied in the preceding. Still it
is well to give it a distinct mention. The hero of the Iliad is
Achilles, that of the iEneid is iEneas, that of Paradise Lost is Man,
or Adam, as the representative of his race. Such at least was Mil-
ton's intention, though it must be confessed that, on closing the
book, the figure which stands out most boldly before the imagina-
tion is that of Satan, the great arch-enemy of God and man.
4. A fourth condition of an Epic poem is that it should
involve many actors and a complicated plot.
Explanation. — The story of a single actor, like that of Robinson
Crusoe on his solitary island, could never be a proper subject for an
epic, no matter how great and heroic the man might be in himself.
Nor could an epic be made out of a single, isolated transaction, no
matter how momentous or sublime the transaction might be. A
poem on such a subject would bear the same relation to an epic, as
would a duel to a fight between two great armies.
5. A fifth condition of the Epic is that its tone should be
prevailingly serious and earnest.
Thersites and Falstaff. — Ilomer, it is true, once raises a laugh over
the braggart, Thersites. But this is quite exceptional. A story con-
taining a leading character given to fun, like Falstaff, for instance,
or a story made up chiefly of scenes and characters of a gay and
festive kind, would be manifestly unsuited to the purposes of the
epic.
6. A sixth condition of the Epic is that the story itself,
merely as a story, should be interesting.
Different from other Poetry. — The case is different with many other
kinds of poetry. In Lyric, Didactic, Pastoral, and some other kinds
23
266 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
of poetry, there is either no story at all, or if any, not enough to
affect to any considerable extent the merits of the piece. But an
Epic is essentially a story, such in its materials and its artistic
arrangement that it would be of absorbing interest even if told in
prose. This story, thus interesting in itself, receives the superadded
splendors and glories of the very highest type of poetical beauty.
Metrical Romance. — The Metrical Romance is inferior in dig-
nity and grandeur to the Epic, but belongs essentially to the same
species of composition. It is a narrative of adventure, and has
indeed nearly every quality described as belonging to the Epic, but
has them in a less marked degree.
Examples.— The Faerie Queene, by Spenser, if indeed it be not reckoned
as an Epic, yet certainly comes very nearly to that level, and must be regarded
as the highest specimen extant of the Metrical Romance. The number of poems
of this class is very great. In our older literature we may instance the Romaunt
of the Rose, by Chaucer, and in later times the Lady of the Lake, and Marmion,
by Sir Walter Scott, and the Idyls of the King, by Tennyson.
Metrical Chronicle. — The Chronicle belongs to the same gen-
eral class of compositions, being narrative in form, and relying very
much upon the story for its effect, but it is inferior in style and dig-
nity to the Romance.
H. DRAMATIC POETRY.
Dramatic Poetry ranks with the Epic in dignity and excel-
lence, and has nearly all its essential characteristics.
Likeness to the Epic. — Like the Epic, the Drama, at least in its
higher forms, must have some great and heroic transaction for its
subject; it must, even more than the Epic, maintain unity in the
action ; it must have one leading character or hero ; it must have
some complication of plot.
TJnlikeness. — In its form, the Drama is essentially unlike the Epic
and all other narrative poems. What they narrate as having been
done, the Drama represents as actually doing before our eyes.* In
the Drama, the action is carried on solely by means of dialogue
between the actors. In Epic poetry, indeed, the narrative often
becomes dramatic, and takes the form of dialogue. But in the
drama, the form is exclusively that of dialogue.
♦The word is from the Greek Spdfia (drama), and signifies action, or doing.
POETRY— DRAMATIC. 267
The Unities. — Besides unity of subject, which it has in common
with the Epic, the Drama requires also two other unities, namely,
those of time and place.
Unity of Time. — By unity of time was meant originally that the
transactions should be capable of occurring within the space of time
ordinarily occupied in the performance of a play, say about three
hours. The rule, however, was early enlarged so as to allow one
whole day for the transactions. Since the division of plays into
five Acts, which prevails in all modern dramas, this rule about unity
of time is very much disregarded.
Unity of Place. — A like change has taken place in regard to unity
of place. When, as in the earliest form of the drama, the action
went straight forward without interruption, the curtain never fall-
ing and the stage never being left vacant t)f actors, until the conclu-
sion of the whole, it followed of necessity that the transactions
should all occur in one place and in one short space of time. But
now, when at brief intervals the scene closes entirely, the time and
place may without difficulty be changed at each fall of the curtain,
provided the changes be not such as to interfere with oneness of
general effect.
Acts and Scenes. — Modern dramas are by general custom divided
into five Acts, and each Act is usually composed of several Scenes.
Kinds of Drama. — The two principal kinds of drama are Tragedy
and Comedy.
Tragedy. — Tragedy is more akin to the Epic, being serious and
dignified, and having for its subject some great transaction. It un-
dertakes to delineate the strongest passions, and to move the soul
of the spectator in the highest degree. It is especially conversant
with scenes of suffering and violence, and ends almost uniformly
with the death of the person or persons in whom the spectator is
most interested.
Comedy. — Comedy, on the other hand, aims to amuse, and seeks
chiefly the topics of common life. It deals largely in ridicule and
satire, and often ends in the marriage or other good fortune of the
principal personages.
Greek Dramatists.— Among the Greeks, ^Eschylus, Euripides, and
268 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Sophocles were particularly distinguished as writers of Tragedy, and
Aristophanes excelled all others as a writer of Comedy.
Shakespeare. — The greatest dramatist in English literature, the
greatest perhaps in all literature, is Shakespeare. His plays are very
numerous, and are divided into Tragedies, Comedies, and what he
calls Histories. These last are dramatic representations of portions
of English history, and are mainly tragic in their character, though
having a large comic element.
Farce. — A Farce is a short dramatic composition, having for its
object simply to excite mirth. It seldom extends to more than two
Acts, and generally consists of but a single Act.
Opera. — An Opera is a drama set to music, the actors singing the
parts instead of speaking them.
Melodrama. — A Melodrama is a drama in which some parts are
spoken and some are sung.
Both in Opera and Melodrama, the author seeks to produce effects
by startling situations and gorgeous scenery and dresses, such as
would be out of place in Tragedy or Comedy.
HI. LYRIC POETRY.
Lyric Poetry, as its name denotes, meant originally poetry
intended to be sung to the accompaniment of the lyre.
Its Charaoter. — Lyric poetry is, in every nation, the oldest form
of poetry known to its literature, and contains some of its highest
specimens of the poetic art.
Different from Epic. — Lyric poetry is used mainly for the expres-
sion of sentiment and emotion, and is thus distinguished from the
Epic, which narrates facts. It expresses the sentiments and emotions
of the author, in his own proper person, and is thus distinguished
from the Drama, in which the author disappears entirely, the
thoughts expressed being those of the persons of the Drama.
Odes. — The most common form of Lyric poetry is the Ode
or Song. Odes or Songs are of six kinds : Sacred, Heroic,
Moral, Amatory, Comic, and Bacchanalian.
POETRY— LYRIC. 269
1. Sacred Odes. — These are usually called Psalms or Hymns. They
are composed on religious subjects, and are for the most part ad-
dressed directly to God.
Hymnic Poetry. — This is found in the literature of every nation.
The Hebrew Psalms are among the highest specimens of lyric poetry.
Jn modern times this species of poetry has been cultivated much more
than in the early ages, in consequence of the extent to which Psalms
and Hymns are used in the religious worship of all Christian churches.
The number of Psalms and Hymns in current and reputable use in
English is counted by thousands, and no inconsiderable portion of
these have decided poetical merit.
Hymn Writers. — The principal writers of Hymns in English are
Watts, Doddridge, Ken, Charles Wesley, Dwight, Newton, Mont-
gomery, Heber, Mrs. Steele, Mrs. Barbauld, and Jane Taylor.
Among more recent hymnists may be named Faber, Ray Palmer,
Bonar, and Charlotte Elliott.
Other Kinds of Hymns. — The word Hymn is sometimes applied to
compositions of a more extended character, and not intended for
religious worship. Thus Spenser has written four hymns, on Love,
Beauty, Heavenly Love, and Heavenly Beauty, averaging nearly
three hundred lines each. The religious odes among the ancients
also were usually much longer than those which we now use in
Christian worship.
2. Heroic Odes. — These are lyric poems celebrating the praises of
heroes, and are mostly occupied with martial exploits.
The odes of Pindar, in Greek, are considered the highest speci-
mens of this kind of composition. "Alexander's Feast," by Dry-
den, is the grandest Ode in the English language. The best perhaps
in our recent literature is Lowell's " Commemoration Ode."
3. Moral Odes. — These include a great variety of subjects, being
used to express almost every kind of sentiment suggested by friend-
ship, humanity, patriotism, and so forth.
Collins's Ode on the Passions and Gray's Ode to Eton College are
familiar to all readers. Collins and Gray are the two English writers
who have most excelled in this species of composition.
4. Amatory Odes. — These, more generally known as Love Songs,
are numerous in all literatures.
23*
270 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
The most successful writers of this kind of verse among the
ancients were Anacreon among the Greeks, and Horace among the
Romans. No one writer in English stands pre-eminent in this de-
partment. Nearly all our great poets have written successful love
verses. Thomas Moore probably has contributed more largely than
any other writer to this particular branch of our literature. The
Songs of Burns, though not so numerous as those of Moore, are less
artificial, and show greater genius. Nothing but the Scottish dia-
lect, in which most of the pieces are written, and which is a great
drawback to ordinary readers, prevents Burns from standing at the
head of our lyric poets.
5. Comic Songs. — These also have become very numerous. Being
intended mainly for amusement, they are often written with great
license as to their metrical construction, and sometimes with still
greater license in regard to morals.
Bacchanalian Songs. — These, as the name imports, are songs to
be sung in honor of Bacchus. In other words, they are drinking-
songs. They are subject to still greater irregularities than the kind
last named. Their object is to promote good fellowship in drink-
ing, and they are consequently a prolific source of drunkenness.
Bacchanalian Songs almost always partake of the comic charac-
ter, and not unfrequently are amatory also. Indeed, these three
kinds of song last named are closely allied, and the authors who
have excelled in any one of them have usually excelled in all.
Sonnets. — The Sonnet, although no longer used in song,
comes under the head of Lyric poetry.
The Sonnet was first cultivated in Italy, and it has there achieved
its greatest successes. The Sonnets of Petrarch are as famous as
the odes of Pindar, and show as high an order of genius. The Son-
net was first introduced into the English by Sir Thomas Wyatt, in
the reign of Henry VIII. From that time to the present, nearly all
our poets of any note have written sonnets, and some of these com-
positions are among the very best treasures of which our literature
has to boast.
IV. ELEGIAC POETRY.
An Elegy is a poem, usually of a sad and mournful kind,
celebrating the virtues of some one deceased.
POETRY— PASTORAL. 271
Its Form. — Elegiac poetry is rarely, if ever, in any other measure
than the iambic, and the most celebrated elegies known to our lit-
erature, such as Milton's Lycidas, and Gray's Elegy written in a
Country Church-Yard, are in iambic pentameter. The slow and
stately movement of this line is particularly suited to the purposes
of Elegy. Tennyson's In Memoriam, equally celebrated with the
two poems just named, is in iambic tetrameter. Shelley's Adonais
is in the Spenserian stanza.
An Epitaph is a very short Elegy, intended to be inscribed on a
tomb or monumental tablet.
V. PASTORAL POETRY.
Pastoral Poetry* means properly that which celebrates
shepherd or rustic life.
Among the Ancients. — The early pastoral poets, such as Theoc-
ritus among the Greeks and Virgil among the Latins, described
the manners, occupations, amusements, and loves of shepherds and
shepherdesses, and these descriptions are characterized by great
simplicity of style, suited to the subject.
Among the Moderns. — Modern authors, who have written pas-
toral poetry, though often giving to their characters the names and
occupations of rustics, have generally used this guise to coyer well-
bred and well-known city people. Thus Spenser, in the Shepherds'
Calendar, speaks throughout of country lads and lasses, tending
their flocks and cracking their rude jokes, but he means by them
himself and his fellow-courtiers in London. The term Pastoral is
now applied to any poem which describes placid country-life.
Eclogues. — The pastoral poems of Virgil were called by him
Eclogues, and this term has been much used for modern poems of
the same sort.
Idyls. — Theocritus, the first who wrote in this style, called his
pieces Idyls. Hence the term Idyllic, as applied to pastoral poetry.
Hence also the title " Idyls of the King," applied by Tennyson to a
collection of his latest poems, though they have little of the charac-
ter of pastoral poetry, as commonly understood.
* From the Latin word pastor, a shepherd.
272 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
VI. DIDACTIC POETRY.
A Didactic Poem is one which aims chiefly to give instruc-
tion.
Its Character. — The poetry of this kind, though useful, is not in itself
of so high an order as the others which have been named. Many crit-
ics, indeed, deny to compositions of this kind the character of poetry.
The Objection. — If, say they, it is of the very essence of poetry
that it aims to please, why should we assign this name to that which
aims only to instruct ? It may be good verse, but it is not poetry.
Such is the objection, and it is not without some truth. But it is
not the whole truth.
The Reply. — The compositions now under consideration, while
they aim to instruct, and aim mainly at that, aim also to please.
The arguments and reasonings which they contain are made much
more effective by being put into the poetical form. Besides this, a
great poet ought, if any one, to know what is poetry, and what is
not, and some of the greatest poets that the world has known have
written pieces in verse for instruction on particular topics, and have
called these pieces poems. Virgil's Georgics is a treatise on agri-
culture. Horace's Art of Poetry, and Pope's Essay on Criticism,
are treatises. Yet it would require some hardihood to say that
they are not poems.
Meditative Poetry. — Under the head of Didactic poetry may very
properly be included not only that which aims in a formal manner
to instruct, but all poetry of a meditative kind.
Its Abundance. — The poetry of this sort in English is very abun-
dant, and much of it very valuable. We could ill spare from English
literature Bryant's Thanatopsis, Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, Aken-
side's Pleasures of the Imagination, Rogers's Pleasures of Memory,
Young's Night Thoughts, Thomson's Seasons, Cowper's Task, Pope's
Essay on Man, and a host of other poems of nearly equal celebrity.
Satire. — A Satire is a poem intended to hold up the follies of men
to ridicule. It aims to reform men by appealing to their sense of
shame. Satire is properly impersonal, exposing faults in general,
rather than exposing individuals.
Lampoon. — A Lampoon attacks individuals.
CHAPTER VIII.
PROSE COMPOSITION.
Prose is the term applied to all composition which is not
in verse. It means the ordinary, straightforward manner of
discourse, in distinction from the inverted forms so common
in poetry.
Prose is from the Latin prosa, contracted from prorsa, and that from proversa,
meaning straightforward.
The chief varieties of Prose composition are Letters, Dia-
ries, News, Editorials, Reviews, Essays, Treatises, Travels,
History, Fiction, Discourses.
I. LETTERS.
A Letter is a written communication addressed by the writer
to some other person or persons.
Subject Important. — Comparatively few persons are required to
practise any of the other varieties of composition which have been
named, whether prose or verse. But almost every one has occasion
to write letters, and the difference in the effect produced between
a letter well written and a letter badly written, is as great as that
between good and bad sermons, or between good and bad bread.
Surely, then, the subject of letter-writing ought not to be omitted
in any work purporting to treat of Prose Composition.
Variety. — No species of composition admits of greater variety.
Letters are as various in style as are the characters, the wants, the
occupations or the pleasures of men. Sometimes writers, in treat-
ing of literary or scientific subjects, cast their essays into the form
S 273
274 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
of letters. Such letters, however, are in fact treatises, and are sub-
ject to the rules for that kind of composition.
Real Letters. — Real letters are such as grow out of the actual
occasions of life, and are addressed by one to another, as business,
pleasure, affection, or fancy may dictate. Whether a letter should
be free and easy, or elaborate, in its style, whether it should be plain
or ornate, serious or joyous, matter-of-fact or sentimental, will de-
pend upon the occasion. The general principles, therefore, which
underlie all composition, must guide the writer in the composition
of the body or substance of a letter.
Blair. — On this point, the following observations by Blair are worthy of con-
sideration.
Correspondence. — Epistolary writing becomes a distinct species of composi-
tion, subject to the cognizance of criticism, only, or chiefly, when it is of the
easy or familiar kind ; when it is conversation carried on upon paper, between
two friends at a distance. Such an intercourse, when well conducted, may be
rendered very agreeable to readers of taste. If the subject of the letters be im-
portant, they will be more valuable. Even though there should be nothing very
considerable in the subject ; yet, if the spirit and turn of the correspondence be
agreeable, if they be written in a sprightly manner, and with native grace and
ease, they may still be entertaining ; more especially if there be any thing to
interest us, in the character of those who write them.
Letters of Distinguished Persons. — Hence the curiosity which the public
has always shown concerning the letters of eminent persons. We expect in
them to discover somewhat of their real character. It is childish, indeed, to ex-
pect that in letters we are to find the whole heart of the author unveiled. Con-
cealment and disguise take place, more or less, in all human intercourse. But
still, as letters from one friend to another make the nearest approach to conver-
sation, we may expect to see more of a character displayed in these than in other
productions, which are studied for public view. We please ourselves with be-
holding the writer in a situation which allows him to be at his ease, and to give
vent occasionally to the overflowings of his heart.
What is Required in a Letter.— Much, therefore, of the merit and the agree-
ableness of epistolary writing, will depend on its introducing us into some ac-
quaintance with the writer. There, if anywhere, we look for the man, not for
the author. Its first and fundamental requisite is, to be natural and simple ; for
a stiff and labored manner is as bad in a letter as it is in conversation. This
does not banish sprightliness and wit. These are graceful in letters, as they are
in conversation ; when they flow easily and without being studied ; when em-
ployed so as to season, not to cloy. One who, either in conversation or in letters,
affects to shine and sparkle always, will not please long. The style of letters
should not be too highly polished ; it ought to be neat and correct, but no more.
All nicety about words betrays study; and hence musical periods, and appear-
ances of number and harmony in arrangement, should be carefully avoided in
letters.
i
PROSE COMPOSITION— LETTERS. 275
The Hest letters are commonly such as the authors have written with most
facility. What the heart or imagination dictates, always flows readily ; but when
there is no subject to warm or interest these, constraint appears ; and hence,
those letters of mere compliment, congratulation, or affected condolence, which
have cost the authors most labor in composing., and which, for that reason, they
perhaps consider as their masterpieces, never fail of being the most disagreeable
and insipid to the readers.
Carelessness.— It ought, at the same time, to be remembered, that the ease
and simplicity which I have recommended in epistolary correspondence, are not
to be understood as importing entire carelessness. In writing to the most inti-
mate friend, a certain degree of attention, both to the subject and the style, is
requisite and becoming. It is no more than we owe both to ourselves and to the
friend with whom we correspond. A slovenly and negligent manner of writing
is a disobliging mark of want of respect.
Special Directions. — All that needs to be said in the way of spe-
cial directions refers to the form of a letter. Custom has prescribed
certain forms for this species of composition, and these forms for
the most part are founded either in practical convenience or in
social propriety.
The Form. — The points in the form of a letter requiring
attention are the Heading, the Address, the Subscription, and
the Superscription.
1. The Heading.
The first thing to be observed in writing a letter is the
date or heading. This includes two points, namely, the place
where, and the time when, the letter is written.
Both these points require attention :
1. The Place. — In beginning a letter, we put, first of all, at the
top of the page, the place at which the letter purports to be written.
In this heading, all those particulars should be given which will be
needed for addressing the reply.
Street and Number.— If the letter comes from a city, it is well for the head-
ing to give the street and number, as well as the name of the.city. These items
are usually arranged in the following order: The number of the house, the
name of the street, the name of the city ; thus, 1828, Pine Street, Philadelphia.
State.— If the city is a very large one, like New York or Philadelphia, there
will be no necessity for adding the name of the State. But in all ordinary cases
the name of the State should be added ; thus, Easton, Pennsylvania.
Contractions.— If the name of the State is contracted, care should be taken
to make the contraction in such a way that what is meant for one State cannot
276 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
be mistaken for another ; thus Md. (Maryland) and Me. (Maine), Vt. (Vermont)
and Va. (Virginia), in careless manuscript, are often confounded. New York and
New Jersey should always be written out in full. N. Y. and N. J. are so much
alike in manuscript that hundreds of letters every year go to Trenton, New York,
that are meant for Trenton, New Jersey.
County.— If the town is quite small, and especially if it is at some distance
from the place to which the letter is going, the name of the County should be
added. This enables one's correspondent to address his reply in such a way as
almost to insure its safe delivery. Sometimes a letter is written from a place
where there is no post-office, — some small outlaying settlement near the post-
town. In such a case, if the writer wishes to designate this small place, he
should be careful to add the post-town also; thus, Dutch Neck, near Bridgeton,
Cumberland County, New Jersey.
Eeason for Particularity. — A correspondent, in replying to a let-
ter, naturally casts his eye to the heading to see how his reply shall
be addressed. In the forms given above he has all the particulars
required for addressing this part of his envelope, and in exactly the
order needed.
Why Important. — These are small matters apparently, and it may
seem like trifling to dwell upon them, but the amount of trouble
and loss occasioned by inattention to them is inconceivable by those
not familiar with the subject.
2. The Time. — It is important in every kind of letter, but espe-
cially in business letters, to denote the time of writing, that is, to
register the month, the day of the month, and the year. This date
is the second thing to be given. It likewise is put at the top of the
page, and immediately after the name of the place, and the particu-
lars are given in the order just named; thus, January 28, 1878.
Form of Heading. — "Whether the heading should all be in one line,
or whether it should be broken into two lines, the words expressing
the place being in one line, and those expressing the time in another,
is a mere matter of fancy. It is, in fact, a question of penmanship.
If the heading is long, it is often broken into two lines ; if short,
it is generally given in one. Thus : —
Bursonville, Bucks Co., Penna.,
March 24, 1878.
Easton, Maryland, April 1, 1878.
Date at the Bottom. — Some letter-writers have a fancy for put-
ting the time and place at the bottom of the letter instead of the
PROSE COMPOSITION— LETTERS. 277
top, but the custom is not to be recommended. The practical con-
veniences of the ordinary method are so great that every one en-
gaged in business ought to feel bound to conform to it.
2. The Address.
The Military Form. — In a letter addressed by one military man
to another, an exact form is prescribed by law. The person written
to is addressed at the beginning of the letter simply by his title, as
General, Captain, Corporal, Private, or whatever it may be, and
without his name. Then, at the end of the letter, on the line below
the signature of the writer, the name of the person addressed is
given, with his full official title, and his location, just as it is to be on
the envelope. Thus : —
Headquarters, Military Division of the Mississippi,
In the Field, Manchester, Va., May 9, 1865.
General: T have joined my army at Manchester, opposite Richmond, and
await your orders. General Wilson telegraphs, through General Schofield, for
hay and forage for 20,000 animals, to be sent up the Savannah River to Augusta.
Under Secretary Stanton's newspaper orders, taking Wilson substantially from
my command, I wish you would give the orders necessary for the case.
W. T. Sherman,
Major-General Commanding.
Liedt.-General U. S. Grant,
Commander-in-Chief.
Washington City.
Ordinary Letters. — This form, prescribed in the military
service, is a good basis for the rules which should guide us
in ordinary letters.
The Beginning. — We begin our letters with Sir, Dear Sir, My
Dear Sir, Rev. Sir, My Dear Dr. Smith, My Dear Lizzie, etc., etc.,
according to the relations of respect, intimacy, or affection existing
between us and the one addressed. Between relatives and intimate
friends these addresses may properly enough often assume a very
familiar style, and may afford the opportunity for expressing tender
affection and endearment, as well as for playfulness and fun.
The Close. — At the close of the letter, it is well, in all ordinary
cases, to give the proper address with some formality. The address
thus given at the bottom should be the same that is placed on the
envelope. It is a safeguard against the letter going at any time by
24
278 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
mistake into the wrong hands. The envelope is often lost or de-
stroyed. The letter, therefore, should be self-identifying indepen-
dently of the envelope.
Identification Important. — There may be twenty thousand " Liz-
zies " in the Directory, but there is only one " My Dear Lizzie " to
the writer, and that is "Miss Elizabeth Smith, 423 Street,
Philadelphia." Where there is in the letter nothing to identify
clearly both the writer and the one written to, there is an appear-
ance of something anonymous and clandestine. A proper respect,
therefore, for the person addressed, particularly if the person is a
lady, requires the formal recognition implied by giving in full, at
the close of the letter, the proper name and address, whatever terms
of badinage or of endearment may have preceded it. Indeed, the
more free and easy the first address and the body of the letter are,
the more propriety there is in this formal recognition and identifi-
cation at the close.
Business Letters. — In writing business letters, the military
rule above described is often reversed, the full address being
placed at the beginning, instead of at the end. Thus: —
Messrs. Robert Carter & Brothers,
Broadway, New York;
Dear Sirs:
This method has many advantages, and in letters on business is to
be commended. In letters of courtesy or affection, the other method
is preferable.
3. The Subscription.
In closing a letter, the writer subscribes his name with
more or less fulness, and in such terms of respect or affec-
tion as the circumstances may seem to warrant.
Terms Vary. — These terms, like those of the address, vary of course
according to the varying relations of the parties, so that no general
rule for them can be given. Business letters very commonly close
with "Your obedient servant," or, if it be a firm, "Your obedient
servants."
Initials. — Many persons, in subscribing their name, have a fancy
for giving only the initials of their first, or given name; thus, R.
PROSE COMPOSITION— LETTERS. 279
E. Jones, J. M. Smith. No one can determine from these signatures
whether the writer is Reuben or Rebecca, James or Juliet, and the
person addressed, who is often a stranger, is at a loss whether to
send his reply to Mr. Jones or Miss Jones, to Mr. Smith or Miss
Smith.
Sex. — In signing one's name to a letter, or to any other document,
it is advisable that the name should always be so written as to show
whether the writer is a man or a woman. This is particularly im-
portant in addressing a letter to a stranger.
Married Women and Widows. — A married woman or a widow, in
writing to a stranger, should also prefix Mrs. to her name. A mar-
ried woman generally gives, with the Mrs., the first name of her
husband, so long as he lives, but drops it after his death; thus,
Yours truly, Mrs. William Southcote; Yours truly, Mrs. Joanna
Southcote. Supposing both these to be written by the same per-
son, we infer from the former that the writer is Mr. Southcote's
wife ; from the latter, that she is his widow.
Terms of Endearment. — The particular terms of endearment used
in the subscription to letters of love and friendship, will vary, of
course, with the fancy of the writers. In general it may be re-
marked, however, that "loving" is a better word than "affection-
ate," especially between kin.
Arrangement. — The arrangement of the subscription, as of the
address and the heading, is a matter of penmanship rather than of
composition. Still, it may not be amiss to observe that the terms
of respect or affection usually occupy a line by themselves, some-
times two lines, and the name of the writer occupies another line.
Thus :
Very respectfully,
Your obedient servant,
John G. Smith.
Examples. — The following addresses and subscriptions have been
copied from writers of good standing, and may serve as models,
according to circumstances :
My Dear Mr. Jebb,
Most truly yours,
Alexander Knox. "
280 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
My Dear Sir,
Affectionately yours,
John M. Mason.
My Dear God-child,
Your unseen God-father and friend,
Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
My Dear Sir William,
Yours very sincerely,
Hannah More.
My Dear Moore,
Yours ever, and most affectionately,
Byron.
My Dearest Love,
Your affectionate husband,
Robert Burns.
4. The Superscription.
By the Superscription of a letter is meant the address which
is written upon the envelope.
Why Important. — Some care in this respect is needed, both be-
cause correctness in the superscription is the chief means for secur-
ing the safe delivery of the letter, and because any want of pro-
priety in the superscription is sure to attract criticism. What is
inside of one's letter may meet the eye of only the most indulgent
friendship, and any little inelegance or carelessness is sure to be for-
given. But the outside usually undergoes the scrutiny of many,
and it is but a poor compliment to your friend, that what he receives
from you through the hands of third parties should give them the
impression that his correspondent is an ignoramus or a boor.
Penmanship. — The superscription of a letter, so far as the pen-
manship goes, should be written with entire distinctness and legi-
bility, with neatness and care, and with some attention to elegance,
but never with ornamental flourishes.
Scrupulous Exactness. — The superscription should be written with
scrupulous verbal exactness and attention to conventional propriety.
The Superscription consists of three parts, the Name of the
person addressed, the Title, aud the Residence.
1. The Name. — Intimate friends often have familiar pet names
for each other, nicknames, which they use in the free intercourse of
PROSE COMPOSITION— LETTERS. 281
friendship. These may be allowable inside of the letter, but never
outside. The name on the outside should be written with formal
propriety and correctness, as it would be expected to be written by
an entire stranger.
2. The Title. — The greatest difficulty in addressing a letter is to
know what title to give.
Common Titles.— Every one no\v-a-days, except among the Friends, has some
title. A young lad usually has the prefix Master, and any unmarried woman
the prefix Miss. Every married woman or widow has the prefix Mrs., and every
man who has no higher title is Mr.
Professional Titles.— Medical men have the title M. D. after their names,
and legal gentlemen that of Esquire.* Others, who belong to neither of these
professions, but who are graduates of Colleges, have some academic title after
their names, as A. M., or Ph. D., etc. In such cases the Mr. before the name
should be dropped. It would be lidiculous to write Mr. John Peters, Esq., Mr.
Thomas Dobbs, M. D. In like manner, it is absurd to write John Bates, A. M.,
D. D.
Higher and Lower Titles. — The higher title presupposes the lower. When
one reaches D. D., or LL. D., he drops his A. B. or his A. M. It is customary,
however, to retain both the two higher titles, D. D., LL. D., if one happens to
reach them both, and the LL. D. in such a case is written last, as James McCosh,
D. D., LL. D., not James McCosh, LL. L\, D. D.
Clergymen. — Clergymen always have the prefix Rev., and Bishops that of
Rt. Rev., and this is usually retained even where they have D. D., or some other
honorary title, after their name, as Rev. John Maclean, D. D., LL. D.
Honorables. — Judges, Members of Congress, and some other high officers of
Government, have the prefix Honorable. This title prefixed to a name extin-
guishes the title Esquire after it, but not any title of special honor. It would not
be right to say Hon. Joel Jones, Esq., but one may with entire propriety say Hon.
Joel Jones, LL. D.
Full Name. — Where an honorary prefix such as Rev. or Hon. is used, it is
more respectful to give the full name, as Rev. William A. Butler, not Rev. Mr.
Butler ; Hon. Salmon P. Chase, not Hon. Judge Chase.
Governors.— The Governor of a State is usually addressed as His Excellency,
and this is written in a separate line, with the full name in a second line, and
the official title on a third line. Thus :—
His Excellency,
John F. Hartranft.
Governor of Pennsylvania.
* There is a ridiculous fashion among some ill-informed persons of appending Esq.
to the name of every one who has no other title. It may be proper sometimes to ad-
dress in this way a man somewhat advanced in years and of high social standing,
who happens to have no special official designation ; but to apply the title, as is often
done, to boys fresh from school, to clerks and salesmen in stores, and to common
day-laborers, is a discourteous and uncivil mockery.
24*
282 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Etiquette in Washington has prescribed the following form, in addressing the
President of the United States : On the outside of the letter,
To the President,
Executive Mansion,
Washington, D. C.
Inside : " Mr. President, I have the honor," etc. These forms are the strict eti-
quette. Not one word more or less is necessary. To write " To the President of
the United Stales," would be surplusage.
3. The Residence. — In writing upon the envelope of a letter the
residence of the person addressed, the same general rules should be
observed which have already been given for writing one's own resi-
dence at the top of the letter.
Name of the State. — The only additional rule needed is that the
name of the State should be written out in full, especially when the
letter is to go to some other State than that in which it is written.
The Reason. — There are so many towns having the same name, that in the
haste of post-office business a letter is often sent to two or three different places
before it reaches the right one, and sometimes it is lost altogether. But there are
never two post-offices of the same name in the same State, and the postmasters
are always familiar with the location of all the offices in their own State. The
name of the State being written in full, in a clear, legible hand, on the face of
the letter, it is almost sure to go to the right State, and being once in the State, it
is equally sure of reaching the right office, and by the most direct route.*
Arrangement of the Items. — It is proper to observe, also, that in
writing the residence on the envelope, instead of putting it all in
one line, as is done at the head of a letter, each item of the resi-
dence forms a separate line. Thus: —
Bridgeton,
Cumberland County,
New Jersey.
315 Green St.,
Trenton,
New Jersey.
Where to Put the Name. — The name and title should occupy the
central portion of the envelope. If they are placed higher up than
•At a critical moment in American affairs, (the time of "John Brown's raid "at
Harper's Ferry,) Governor Wise, of Virginia, wrote an important letter to Governor
Curtin, of Pennsylvania. The letter was addressed to " Harrisburg. Pa." The coun-
try postmaster, being naturally more familiar with the towns in his own State
than with those farther off, and mistaking Pa. for Va., mailed the letter to llarris-
tonjburg, Virginia, and before the mistake was discovered, the rapid march of events
lad made the letter too late.
PROSE COMPOSITION— DIARIES. 283
the middle, the appearance is awkward, and besides, a clear space
above is needed for the postmark and stamp. If the name is written
much below the middle, as young misses have an affected way of
doing, it does not leave room below for writing the residence with-
out unsightly crowding. It is better, therefore, both for appearance,
and for practical convenience, to let the name and title occupy a line
that is just about central between the top of the envelope and the
bottom. Nor should the name be crowded off to the extreme right
of the envelope, as inexperienced persons are apt to place it, but it
should be placed about centrally between the two ends. The name
stands out more distinctly to the eye, and it gives a more symmet-
rical appearance to the whole, if there is a clear space left at each
end.
H. DIAEIES.
A Diary, as the name imports, is a daily record.
Subjects. — The subjects recorded vary, of course, with the age,
sex, occupation, and character of the diarist. It is a form of com-
position more used perhaps than any other for recording religious
experience. Travellers record thus their daily adventures and
observations. Students, men of business, men of pleasure even, are
wont to write down from day to day things which interest them, or
which they desire particularly to remember.
Essential Character. — A Diary is the least exact and formal of all
kinds of composition. The primary and governing idea which should
control the writer in its formation is, that its pages are meant for
his own eye only. He writes an entry to-day in order that, some
years hence, when memory begins to fail, he may see exactly what
to-day's thoughts or experiences were. It is a record made for the
information of one's future self. The first quality, therefore, in such
a record, is that it be absolutely honest.
Style — Embellishments and figures of rhetoric are utterly out of
place in a diary. It is not necessary, indeed, to the truthfulness of
such a record, as some seem to imagine, that it be written in de-
fiance of the laws of grammar. On the contrary, some attention
to grammatical and verbal accuracy shows only a proper self-respect.
But studied elegance, and what are called the graces of style, show
that the whole thing is a sham, and that the writer is not making
284 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
what he is pretending to make, a private record for his own future
information, but is really writing for effect upon the minds of other
people.
Dates. — It is essential to the honesty and truthfulness of a diary
that the date of an entry should be that on which the entry is
actually made. Inexperienced persons, in keeping a diary, some-
times omit making any record for several days, and then, on some
day when they have leisure or inclination, make one job of it, and
fill up the missing days from memory. This is to make the whole
record valueless, either for themselves or for any one else.
Blank Days. — If, on any particular day, no record is made, let the
day stand blank. Such blanks are no blemish to a diary ; the best
diaries often have them. In making the record of a particular day,
the writer may, if he chooses, register his recollections of what took
place on previous days, but let them be entered as recollections.
The inexorable rule for a diary, from which there should be no ex-
ception, is that each entry have a date, and that the date mark
truthfully the time of the writing.
The Place. — Persons who keep a diary will likewise find it of
great value to themselves to register the place where, as well as the
time when, each entry is made. Accuracy and particularity in re-
gard to facts are indeed the essential points in the composition of a
diary.
in. NEWS.
Next to writing letters, there is, in modern times, no
species of composition of which so much is done as News
writing.
Amount. — The innumerable items which fill the news columns
of the daily and weekly papers are enormous in amount, and con-
stitute the chief reading of the public — the daily bread of our lit-
erary life.
Literary Character. — The literature of the news columns is not,
perhaps, of a very high character ; yet that it is a part of the litera-
ture of the day cannot well be denied, and the rules which should
govern it ought not to be entirely ignored in any work professing
to treat of the various kinds of composition in actual use.
PROSE COMPOSITION— NEWS. 285
The True Medium. — News items are for the most part written in
haste. The writers have not time to correct and prune their com-
position as other writers have. Personally, therefore, they are not
held to as strict an account as other writers are, for general accu-
racy of diction and style. Yet every reader is sensible of the differ-
ence between a paragraph of news correctly written and one incor-
rectly written, and by the exercise of only a moderate degree of
attention, the writers of these paragraphs could certainly avoid
most of the glaring errors which now mar their work.
Things to be Aimed at. — The chief excellencies of style to be cul-
tivated by the writer of news are accuracy, condensation, and per-
spicuity. The higher graces of style, such as those growing out of
the use of rhetorical figures, lie in a different plane. The news
writer has not the leisure for such ornaments, nor, if he had, would
their use be in accordance with good taste. What the reader re-
quires of him is simply a statement of facts, and this statement
should aim at the three qualities just named.
1. Accuracy. — By this I do not here refer to the truth of
the facts stated. That is a question of morals, not of style.
What I mean is that the language should be accurate; that
it should convey the meaning which the writer intends.
Sources of Mistake. — News writers err in this respect partly from
an inaccurate use of words, and partly from an inaccurate construc-
tion of sentences. Thus :
In reporting a man's death, if the newsman happens to be one of those ambi-
tious of fine writing, he will tell us of the man's " demise," which is something
quite different from what he intended.
Another reporter, who is careless in construction, speaks of "inventing a
ballot-box arrangement which cannot be stuffed," though how an arrangement
is to be stuffed is something of a mystery.
Another tells of " a mad dog which was killed after several other dogs had
been bitten by Eli Beck." He meant to say that the dog was killed by Eli Beck.
What he does say is that the other dogs were bitten by that gentleman.
" The Military Committee did not report against Mr. B., of Tennessee, for sell-
ing his cadetship to-day." The reporter meant to say, "The Committee did
not report to-day."
The portions of rhetoric which are particularly important for
correcting inaccuracies of this kind are the chapters on Diction and
Sentences.
286 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
2. Condensation. — By this it is not meant that the news
writer should suppress the particulars which give body and
substance to a statement of facts. These particulars are
usually exactly what the reader wants; and the best re-
porter, in any case of special interest, is generally the one
who can gather and give these particulars with the greatest
minuteness.
What is Meant. — The condensation required of the reporter refers
to the number of words used in expressing any particular item of
information. An expert will express the item fully in about half
the number of words used by a bungler, and the report will increase
in vividness and sparkle in consequence of this condensation. The
unnecessary expletives with which a news paragraph is so often
swelled out into forbidding proportions originate in bad taste and
conceit. The writers pelt the public with inflated bladders, when
they should use solid shot.
A Safe Eule. — A beginner in this species of composition will find
it a safe rule, after having written a paragraph, to go over it and
strike out on an average about one-half the words. Any one who
has not given the subject some attention will be surprised at the
skill in condensation acquired by some of the newspaper reporters,
as well as at the want of skill manifested by others.
3. Perspicuity. — People read news in haste; the most im-
perative demand of the writer, therefore, is clearness. The
meaning should be so plain that "he may run that read-
eth it."
Different from other Beading. — There are times, indeed, when men
find pleasure in solving the mystery of some hard sentence in Latin
or Greek, or in finding out the meaning, if there is any, in some
orphic saying of Emerson. But no one is ever in this mood over
his morning newspaper. What it has to tell us in the way of news
must be told in the clearest and most straightforward manner.
How Obtained.— This clearness is to be obtained chiefly by skill
in the construction of sentences. As this topic has been fully
treated elsewhere, the reader is referred for further information to
the chapter on that subject.
PROSE COMPOSITION— EDITORIALS. 287
A Serious Fault. — The most serious fault of style among news
writers, at the present day, is their propensity to indulge in the use
of slang words and phrases. This mistake of slang for wit is a sore
evil. It may not perhaps lead to a deterioration of the language,
as many fear; for the fault is too glaring and offensive to lead to
general imitation. But it is a serious drawback to the pleasure with
which one opens his paper for information in regard to the news of
the day. Slang is next door to ribaldry, and neither of them is
pleasant company at the breakfast table.
IV. EDITORIALS.
In the arrangement of a modern newspaper — and the same
is true to some extent in magazines — a portion of the space
is reserved for the expression of the opinions of the editor or
editors, on the current topics of the day. The paragraphs
thus written are one of the peculiar products of modern
times, and form a noticeable species of prose composition.
Order of Composition. — The style suited for the editorial columns
is not only of a high order of composition, but is one peculiar to
itself. A first-class editorial admits, indeed, of almost every grace
and excellence of style known to rhetoric. But one may have all
these excellencies, may be a first-class writer in many other depart-
ments of literature, and yet not succeed as a writer of editorials.
Not Impersonal Truth. — An editorial is not an essay, or a disser-
tation ; not a mere tissue of abstract, impersonal truths. On the
contrary, it comes to us permeated, through and through, with the
personality of the writer. Whatever ability, knowledge, wit, or
wisdom has been shown by the paper, is supposed to exist in some
unseen oracle who sits veiled behind the mysterious " we," and who
puts himself forth as a public teacher and guide. The opinions ex-
pressed have an added weight from being given as his, — the opinions
of this unknown, all-knowing Editor.
Editor's Estimate of his Own Position. — An important requisite,
therefore, in a writer of editorials, is the ability rightly to conceive
of himself as being placed in this responsible position of a public
teacher. He must know how to use with vigor, and yet with dis-
cretion, a certain form of self-assertion. It is not, however, the
288 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC:
mere use of " we " that makes a piece of composition an editorial.
The best editorials employ this formula very sparingly, and some-
times omit it altogether. But the writer, in penning such articles,
conceives himself as one set to teach. His business is to give his
opinions, and that for the express purpose of influencing the opinions
of others.
Editorials and News. — From this general description, it will be
seen at once how different is the business of writing editorials from
that of writing news. The one simply records the facts of the day ;
the other discusses those facts, and expresses opinions about them,
commending or condemning, explaining or defending, persuading
and exhorting, assigning causes and suggesting remedies. The one
writes with special reference to clearness, accuracy, and brevity ; the
other calls to his aid all the graces and arts of the most finished
rhetoric, and needs for his task a knowledge as varied as the entire
range of subjects embraced in the scope of his paper.
Fame, in its highest sense, is rarely, if ever, attained by writing
editorials. Yet to write editorials of the best class requires a degree
and variety of talent, which, if employed in other kinds of writing,
would ensure high and lasting fame.
V. REVIEWS.
Reviews are of the nature of editorials, only much more
extended. A review is a very long editorial. It is an
article of many pages, giving the opinions of a monthly or
a quarterly magazine, instead of an article of a column or
part of a column, giving the opinions of a weekly or a daily-
paper.
An Organ. — The magazine, like the paper, is the organ of a cer-
tain set of opinions. Its office is to propagate and enforce those
opinions, but in doing so it enters more largely into the details of
argument and explanation.
Description. — Reviews, like editorials, embrace almost every
variety of subject. They are commonly, though not always, based
upon some book. They sometimes examine the book merely, some-
times the subject treated of in the book, and often they discuss first
PROSE COMPOSITION— REVIEWS. 289
the book and then some subject discussed in the book, or suggested
by it.
Macaulay's Article on Milton. — Macaulay's celebrated article in
the Edinburgh Review, in 1825, on the occasion of the recovery of
a lost work of Milton's, is a good illustration of the kind of review
just named. The reviewer, in the first few paragraphs, gives a
brief, but comprehensive and sufficiently critical judgment of the
book or essay whose title is quoted, and then takes occasion to go
on and give a general review of the character of Milton as an author
and a man. The following are the introductory paragraphs :
Towards the close of the year 1823, Mr. Lemon, Deputy Keeper of the State
Papers, in the course of his researches among the presses of his office, met with
a large Latin manuscript. With it were found corrected copies of the foreign
despatches written by Milton, while he filled the office of Secretary, and several
papers relating to the Popish Trials and the Rye-House Plot. The whole was
wrapped up in an envelope superscribed, " To Mr. Skinner, Merchant." On
examination, the large manuscript proved to be the long-lost Essay on the Doc-
trines of Christianity, which, according to Wood and Toland, Milton finished
after the Restoration, and deposited with Cyriac Skinner. Skinner, it is well
known, held the same political opinions with his illustrious friend. It is there-
fore probable, as Mr. Lemon conjectures, that he may have fallen under the
suspicions of the Government during that persecution of the Whigs which
followed the dissolution of the Oxford Parliament, and that, in consequence
of a general seizure of his papers, this work may have been brought to the office
in which it had been found. But whatever the adventures of the manuscript
may have been, no doubt can exist that it is a genuine relic of the great poet.
Mr. Sumner, who was commanded by his majesty to edit and translate the
treatise, has acquitted himself of this task in a manner honorable to his talents
and to his character. His version is not, indeed, very easy or elegant, but it is
entitled to the praise of clearness and fidelity. His notes abound with interest-
ing quotations, and have the rare merit of really elucidating the text. The
preface is evidently the work of a sensible and candid man ; firm in his own
religious opinions, and tolerant towards those of others.
The book itself will not add much to the fame of Milton. It is, like all his
Latin works, well written, though not exactly in the style of the prize essays of
Oxford and Cambridge. There is no elaborate imitation of classical antiquity ;
no scrupulous purity; none of the ceremonial cleanness which characterizes
the diction of our academical Pharisees. He does not attempt to polish and
brighten his composition into the Ciceronian gloss and brilliancy. He does not,
in short, sacrifice sense and spirit to pedantic refinements. The nature of his
subject compelled him to use many words
" That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp."
But he writes with as much ease and freedom as if Latin were his mother
tongue, and where he is least happy his failure seems to arise from the careless-
ness of a native, not from the ignorance of a foreigner. What Denham, with
great felicity, says of Cowley, may be applied to him. He wears the garb but
not the clothes of the ancients.
25 T
290 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Throughout the volume are discernible the traces of a powerful and inde-
pendent mind, emancipated from the influence of authority, and devoted to the
search of truth. He professes to form his system from the Bible alone, and his
digest of Scriptural texts is certainly among the best that have appeared. But
he is not always so happy in his inferences as in his citations.
Some of the heterodox opinions which he avows seems to have excited consid-
erable amazement, particularly his Arianism and his notions on the subject of
polygamy. Yet we can scarcely conceive that any person could have read the
Paradise Lost without suspecting him of the former. Nor do we think that any
reader, acquainted with the history of his life, ought to be much startled at the
latter. The opinions which he has expressed respecting the nature of the Deity,
the eternity of matter, and the observation of the Sabbath, might, we think, have
caused more just surprise.
But we will not go into the discussion of these points. The book, were it far
more orthodox or far more heretical than it is, would not much edify or corrupt
the present generation. The men of our time are not to be converted or per-
verted by quartos. A few more days and this Essay will follow the Defensio
Populi to the dust and silence of the upper shelf. The name of its author, and
the remarkable circumstances attending its publication, will secure to it a certain
degree of attention. For a month or two it will occupy a few minutes of chat
in every drawing-room, and a few columns in every magazine, and it will then,
to borrow the elegant language of the play-bills, be withdrawn to make room for
the forthcoming novelties.
We wish, however, to avail ourselves of the interest, transient as it may be,
which this work has excited. The dexterous Capuchins never choose to preach
on the life and miracles of a saint till they have awakened the devotional feel-
ings of their auditors by exhibiting some relic of him — a thread of his garment,
a lock of his hair, or a drop of his blood. On the same principle we intend to
take advantage of the late interesting discovery, and while this memorial of a
great and good man is still in the hands of all, to say something of his moral
and intellectual qualities. Nor, we are convinced, will the severest of our read-
ers blame us, if, on an occasion like the present, we turn for a short time from
the topics of the day to commemorate, in all love and reverence, the genius and
virtues of John Milton, the poet, the statesman, the philosopher, the glory of
English literature, the champion and the martyr of English liberty.
Nothing better in the way of general review of character has ever
been written in English than the essay on Milton which follows,
nnless it be some of the other reviews by the same author.
Macaulay as a Reviewer. — His works in this line are indeed mod*
els for study, and have given the author a world-wide reputation.
Macaulay is indeed the prince of reviewers, and his reviews alone
are a monument of genius, entitling him to lasting fame. The most
remarkable, besides the review on Milton, are those on Dryden,
Bacon, Warren Hastings, and Boswell's Life of Johnson.
Among other English authors who have attained special celeb-
rity as writers of reviews may be named Jeffrey, Sidney Smith,
Brougham, and Gifford.
PROSE COMPOSITION— ESSAYS. 291
Reviews, as a distinct species of English literature, may be dated
from the establishment of the Edinburgh Review, in 1802.
VI. ESSAYS.
Different from Reviews. — Essays differ in some respects
from reviews. A review, like an editorial, expresses the
opinions of some acknowledged representative organ, and
its utterances have, besides their own inherent value, what-
ever weight of authority has been acquired by that organ.
But an essay stands solely on its own merits. It is in form
entirely impersonal, or if the author introduces himself at
all, it is in the singular, " I," not with the editorial " we."
Other Differences. — An essay rarely bases its remarks upon a
book. On the contrary, it begins usually with a subject, and if
books are brought in at all, it is only incidentally, and by way of
reference or quotation. Essays treat a subject in a more formal
and systematic manner than reviews do, and are divided into regu-
lar, numbered heads, chapters, sections, and so forth, which is
rarely, if ever, the case with reviews.
Resemblances. — While there are these slight differences between
essays and reviews, there are between them many more points of
resemblance. The difference, indeed, is in form rather than in sub-
stance. Substantially, a large part of the best reviews in the lan-
guage, as for instance a majority of those written by Macaulay, are
essays.
Number of Essayists. — The number of essayists is almost identical
with that of writers, for essays are written by almost every one who
is engaged in any of the other kinds of authorship. Some few
authors, indeed, have limited their writings to essays. They are
essayists and nothing else. But the great majority of essays which
have swelled the volume of our literature, have been written by
those whose main work was in some other vein, as historians, biog-
raphers, poets, and so forth.
Mode of Publication. — Essays now usually appear first as contri-
butions to magazines. After publication in this form, they are
sometimes collected and published in separate volumes. .Mr. Whip-
292 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
pie and Mr. Tuckerman have published several such volumes, which
may be safely commended to the notice of any reader who desires
to become acquainted with this class of writings. The best essays,
by far, however, which have appeared in our recent literature, are
those by Lowell, in a volume entitled "Among My Books."
Size. — Essays vary in size, from the brief attempts produced as
school exercises, to elaborate and lengthened works, covering some-
times several hundred printed pages.
VII. TREATISES.
A Treatise is a written discourse or composition on some
subject, setting forth its principles in a systematic and orderly
manner.
Different from Essays. — Treatises differ from essays mainly in
being more formal and scientific. They are more frequently divided,
than essays are, into regular chapters, sections, sub-sections, and
so on.
More Complete. — Another point of difference is, that an essay
may select for remark particular parts of a subject, while a treatise
is expected to embrace the whole subject. An essay on architecture,
for instance, might merely show the uses of architecture, or might
advocate the superiority of the Gothic over the classic, or might dis-
cuss any one or more of a hundred points connected with the sub-
ject; but a treatise on architecture would be required to go over
the whole subject in all its varieties and subdivisions.
Difference of Style. — Treatises are usually plain in style, rarely
admitting of any kind of figures of speech, or rhetorical ornament,
while essays abound in ornaments and figures, and give full oppor-
tunity for the use of every kind of rhetorical beauty.
Difference of Subject. — Essays more commonly refer to some of
the fine arts, or to subjects which are not capable of, or have not
yet been reduced to, a scientific classification ; treatises are usually
upon some definite branch of science, as astronomy, botany, algebra,
logic, metaphysics, theology, and the like.
Impersonal. — A treatise is comparatively impersonal, setting forth
the bare facts and truths of the subject ; in an essay, as in an edi-
PROSE COMPOSITION— HISTORY. 293
torial, the thoughts are more or less tinctured with the personality
of the writer. A treatise is usually an exposition of certain truths ;
an essay, the advocacy of certain opinions.
Text Books, whether those for scientific reference, or those for
study in schools and seminaries of learning, are treatises. This
branch of literature, though not unknown to the ancients, has re-
ceived an enormous development in modern times, and especially
within the last fifty years.
VIII. TRAVELS.
Books of travel come nearer to diaries than to any other
kind of writing.
Compared with a Diary. — A book of travel usually contains a
record of things seen or done from day to day, and in that respect
is like a diary. But, on the other hand, travels are written, not to
assist the memory of the writer, but avowedly for the information
of others, and this will naturally affect the style.
Accuracy. — The traveller, like the diarist, is under a special obli-
gation of accuracy in regard to dates, and indeed to facts generally.
That which gives the chief value to a book of travel is the informa-
tion which it contains. It tells the reader things which he cannot
see for himself. The traveller is in the witness-box, and we look
to him for the exact truth.
Other Qualities. — While accuracy is the first quality demanded in
travels, they admit freely all the other graces of style. Some of the
travellers of the present day are very successful as humorists, and
their books abound in passages of eloquent description and exciting
narrative. But it is hardly to be expected of works written in the
haste and excitement of actual travel, — and unless so written they
want some of that freshness and truth which are their highest charm,
— that they should have that entire finish of style which we demand
in works written under circumstances of more deliberation.
Travels are often written in the form of letters.
IX. HISTORY.
History holds about the same rank in prose composition
that the epic does in poetry. The proper office of the histo-
25*
294 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
rian is to record important events for the instruction of man-
kind. The fundamental qualities required of him, therefore,
are impartiality, fidelity, and accuracy.
The observations which follow are taken from Blair, with some
unimportant alterations.
General Character of History. — It is not every record of facts that
is entitled to the name of history, but such a record as enables us to
apply the transactions of former ages for our own instruction. The
facts ought to be momentous and important; represented in connec-
tion with their causes, traced to their effects, and unfolded in clear
and distinct order. For wisdom is the great end of history. It is
designed to supply the want of experience. Its object is to enlarge
our views of the human character, and to give full exercise to our
judgment on human affairs. It must not, therefore, be a tale, cal-
culated to please only, and addressed to the fancy. Gravity and
dignity are essential characteristics of history; no light ornaments
are to be employed, no flippancy of style, no quaintness of wit. But
the writer must sustain the character of a wise man, writing for the
instruction of posterity, one who has studied to inform himself well,
who has pondered his subject with care, and addresses himself to
our judgment rather than to our imagination. At the same time,
historical writing is by no means inconsistent with ornamented and
spirited narration. It admits of much high ornament and elegance ;
but the ornaments must be always consistent with dignity ; they
should not appear to be sought after, but to rise naturally from a
mind animated by the events which it records.
Unity of Subject. — In the conduct and management of his subject,
the first thing requisite in an historian, is to give it as much unity as
possible; that is, his history should not consist of separate, uncon-
nected parts merely, but should be bound together by some connect-
ing principle, which shall make the impression on the mind of some-
thing that is one, whole, and entire. It is inconceivable how great
an effect, this, when happily executed, has upon the reader, and it
is surprising that some able writers of history have not attended to
it more. Whether pleasure or instruction be the end sought by
the study of history, either of them is enjoyed to much greater
advantage when the mind has always before it the progress of
some one great plan or system of action — when there is some point
PROSE COMPOSITION— HISTORY. 295
or centre, to which we can refer in the various facts related by the
historian.
Complex Subjects. — In general histories, which record the affairs
of a whole nation or empire throughout several ages, this unity is
necessarily imperfect. Yet, even there, some degree of it can be
preserved by a skilful writer. For though the whole, taken together,
be very complex, yet the great constituent parts of it form so many
subordinate wholes when taken by themselves ; each of which can
be treated both as complete within itself, and as connected with
what goes before and follows. In the history of a monarchy, for
instance, every reign should have its own unity — a beginning, a
middle, and an end, to the system of affairs ; while at the same time,
we are taught to discern how that system of affairs rose from the
preceding, and how it is inserted into what follows.
Chronologioal Order. — The historian must not indeed neglect chron-
ological order, with a view to render his narration agreeable. He
must give a distinct account of the dates, and of the coincidence of
facts. But he is not under the necessity of breaking off always in
the middle of transactions in order to inform us of what was hap-
pening elsewhere at the same time. He discovers no art, if he can-
not form some connection among the affairs which he relates, so as
to introduce them in a proper train. He will soon tire the reader
if he goes on recording, in strict chronological order, a multitude of
separate transactions, connected by nothing else but their happening
at the same time.
Qualities of Historical Narration. — Let us next proceed to consider
the proper qualities of historical narration. The first virtue of his-
torical narration is clearness, order, and due connection. To attain
this the historian must be completely master of his subject ; he must
see the whole as at one view, and comprehend the chain and depend-
ence of all its parts, that he may introduce every thing in its proper
place, that he may lead us smoothly along the track of affairs which
are recorded, and may always give us the satisfaction of seeing how
one event arises out of another.
Keeping up the Connection. — Nothing tries an historian's abilities
more, than so to lay his train beforehand, as to make us pass natu-
rally and agreeably from one part of his subject to another; to
296 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
employ no clumsy and awkward junctures; and to contrive ways
and means of forming some union among transactions which seem
to be most widely separated from cne another.
Gravity of Style.— In the next place, as history is a very dignified
species of composition, gravity must always be maintained in the
narration. There must be no meanness or vulgarity in the style ;
no quaint or colloquial phrases ; no affectation of pertness or of wit.
The smart or the sneering manner of telling a story is inconsistent
with the historical character. I do not say that an historian is never
to let himself down. He may sometimes do it with propriety, in
order to diversify the train of his narration, which, if it be perfectly
uniform, is apt to become tiresome. But he should be careful never
to descend too far, and on occasions where a light or ludicrous anec-
dote is proper to be recorded, it is generally better to throw it into
a note than to hazard becoming too familiar by introducing it into
the body of the work.
Dulness to be Avoided. — But an historian may possess these qual-
ities of being perspicuous, distinct, and grave, and may notwith-
standing be a dull writer, in which case we shall reap little benefit
from his labors. We shall read him without pleasure, or, most
probably, we shall give over reading him at all. He must, there-
fore, study to render his narration interesting.
How to Keep Up the Interest. — An historian that would interest
us must know when to be concise, and where he ought to enlarge;
passing concisely over slight and unimportant events, but dwelling
on such as are striking and considerable in their nature, so pregnant
with consequences; preparing beforehand our attention to them,
and bringing them forth into the most full and conspicuous light.
He must also attend to a proper selection of the circumstances
belonging to those events which he chooses to relate fully. General
facts make a slight impression on the mind. It is by means of cir-
cumstances and particulars properly chosen that a narration be-
comes interesting and affecting to the reader. These give life, body,
and coloring to the recital of facts, and enable us to behold them
as present and passing before our eyes. It is this employment
of circumstances in narration that is properly termed historical
painting.
PROSE COMPOSITION— HISTORY. 297
Delineation of Characters. — The drawing of characters is one of
the most splendid, and at the same time one of the most difficult,
ornaments of historical composition. For characters are generally
considered as professed exhibitions of fine writing, and an historian
who seeks to shine in them is frequently in danger of carrying re-
finement to excess, from a desire of appearing very profound and
penetrating. He brings together so many contrasts, and subtle
oppositions of qualities, that we are rather dazzled with sparkling
expressions than entertained with any clear conception of a human
character. A writer who would characterize in an instructive and
masterly manner should be simple in his style, and should avoid all
quaintness and affectation, at the same time not contenting himself
with giving us general outlines, but descending into those pecu-
liarities which mark a character in its most strong and distinctive
features.
Sound Morals to be Enforced. — As history is a species of writing
designed for the instruction of mankind, sound morality should
always reign in it. Both in describing characters and in relating
transactions, the author should always show himself to be on the
side of virtue. To deliver moral instruction in a formal manner,
falls not within his province, but both as a good man and a good
writer, we expect that he should discover sentiments of respect for
virtue, and an indignation at flagrant vice. To appear neutral and
indifferent with respect to good and bad characters, and to affect
a crafty and political, rather than a moral turn of thought, will,
besides other bad effects, derogate greatly from the weight of his-
torical composition, and will render the strain of it much more cold
and uninteresting. We are always most interested in the trans-
actions which are going on when our sympathy is awakened by the
story, and when we become engaged in the fate of the actors. But
this effect can never be produced by a writer who is deficient in
sensibility and moral feeling.
Annals. — Annals are an inferior kind of history. A book
of annals is a collection of facts arranged in strict chrono-
logical order.
Annals rather contain the materials of history than constitute
history itself. The chief qualities required in a writer of annals are
that he be clear, accurate, and complete.
298 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Memoirs. — Memoirs also are a species of historical writing,
though not strictly constituting history.
Less Complete. — The writer of memoirs does not pretend to give
a complete account of transactions, but only to relate such portions
of them as he himself had access to, or had something to do with.
We do not expect from him the same profound research, or the same
varied information, that we expect from the historian.
Less Dignified. — The writer is not held to the same unvarying
gravity and dignity, or to the same impersonal style of narration
that is required in history. He may indulge in familiar anecdotes
and pleasantry, and may freely mix up himself and his own personal
affairs with the public affairs which he commemorates. Memoirs
are, in fact, of the nature of reminiscences. They are a testimony
by an eye-witness. Hence they have a double character. They are
usually very entertaining to be read by themselves, and they fur-
nish to the regular historian one of his most valuable storehouses of
materials.
Biography. — A Biography is the history of one individual.
Biography is, therefore, a species of historical composition.
Different from History. — Biography differs from history proper,
not only in being thus limited in its range, but also in being less
stately and formal. In this latter respect biography corresponds
with memoirs, descending to the particulars of private life and to
familiar incidents.
Different from Memoirs. — Biography differs, on the other hand,
from memoirs, in being complete in itself. It is no objection to me-
moirs that they are fragmentary, containing only selected portions
of the transactions commemorated. But a biography of a man is
expected to give his whole life, just as the history of a nation or of
a period is expected to give its whole history.
Autobiography is a biography of a person written by himself.
X. FICTION.
A Fiction is a story made up of incidents invented for the
purpose.
PROSE COMPOSITION— FICTION. 299
Its Prevalence. — Fictitious writing has existed in all ages of the
world, and in nearly all departments of literature, but it has received
its greatest enlargement in the present age. The works of fiction
now produced exceed in number those of any other class, if, indeed,
they do not equal those of all other classes combined. Fully one-
half of all the reading done by the community is the reading of
fiction.
Names. — The names most commonly given to works of fiction are
Novels and Romances. These terms are for the most part used in-
discriminately, though romances more strictly mean a class of fiction
in which the manners, incidents, and sentiments are of a rather ex-
travagant kind.
Kinds. — Novels are divided into two leading classes, historical
and domestic.
Historical Novels are those in which the events of history are
introduced, and historical persons are represented as talking and
acting. The most celebrated historical novels are those of Sir
Walter Scott. The historical novel may be made very interesting,
and may help the dull and unimaginative reader in forming a more
distinct conception of past events, but it is very unsafe as a guide in
studying history. The novelist naturally shapes the facts to suit his
story, instead of shaping his story to suit the facts. The great mass
of novels, however, are of a domestic character, the incidents being
such as occur in private life.
Appeal to Curiosity. — The novelist relies for the interest of his
story, first and mainly, upon the curiosity of the reader. The inci-
dents being of the writer's own creation, he contrives so to arrange
them as to conceal from his readers the issue of the affair until the
very end of the story. If the novelist were to begin his story by
acquainting his readers at the outset with the issue of the whole, so
that we should know from the first who is to be married or killed,
and how things generally are to turn out, which is in the main our
condition in sitting down to read history or biography, an epic, or a
play, it is safe to say that not one novel in a hundred would ever be
read.
Other Means. — Curiosity, however, is not the only means on
which the novelist relies to secure readers. The incidents and the
3C0 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
characters being entirely of his own creation, he can, if skilful
enough, make them of the kind which will be in themselves pleas-
ing and attractive, and he can use at will all those advantages of
combination and contrast which tend to heighten the effect.
Delineation of Character. — Another great source of interest in
novels is the opportunity they give for the delineation of character.
In history the writer must take his characters as he finds them.
In fiction the writer creates his characters. He clothes them with
such qualities as he pleases, and then creates for them circumstances
which enable them to act out these qualities in the sight of the
reader. Such a mental process, that is, obtaining a clear concep-
tion of a character, and then seeing that character developed in
action before our eyes, is always a source of pleasure, and the
novelist has a field for the employment of it, bounded only by his
own faculties of conception and invention.
General Effect. — The greater part of the fiction now published
and read has no other object than mere pleasure, and that of a very
low kind. Novels of this sort have a debasing effect upon the public
mind. The reading of them is a mere mental dissipation, unfitting
the reader both for reading of a more elevated kind, and for the
active duties of life.
Effect on the Memory. — I give it, too, as my opinion, the result
of a long course of observation, in a profession peculiarly fitted for
such a purpose, that much and indiscriminate novel-reading has a
most disastrous effect upon the memory. Indeed, I am not sure
that the debilitating effect upon the mental faculties is not a more
serious evil even than its relaxing influence upon the conscience and
the moral sensibilities.
Novels of a Higher Aim. — A good many novels have a higher
aim, being intended by their authors to disseminate theories of life
and morals, and even of religion. Dickens's novels, for instance,
are aimed mainly at social vices, and so efficiently has he propagated
his opinions on these subjects, by means of his fictions, that he has
created a strong public sentiment in favor of his social views.
Religious Fiction. — No inconsiderable part of the fiction now pro-
duced has for its professed object the inculcation of religious truth.
PROSE COMPOSITION— DISCOURSES. 301
Nine-tenths of all the religious books written for children are fictions
of this kind. The Sunday-school books, of which not less than three
or four millions are read every week in the United States alone,
are almost exclusively fictions. The subject demands the serious
consideration of those intrusted with the religious training of the
young.
XI. DISCOURSES.
A Discourse differs from the other kinds of composition
which have been described, in that it is intended to be read
or spoken to the persons addressed, instead of being read by
them.
In an essay, a review, or a history, the writer prepares something
which others are to read for themselves. In a discourse of any kind
he prepares something which he intends himself to read or speak to
others. Discourses which have been written may, of course, be read
by any one, as well as by the writer. But that is not their primary
intention. They are in the form of an address to be presented by
the author to an audience.
Kinds of Discourse. — The principal kinds of discourses
are Orations, Addresses, Sermons, Lectures, and Speeches.
Orations. — An Oration is a discourse of the most formal
and elaborate kind.
Occasions. — An Oration is generally in commemoration of some
important public event, or in eulogy of some distinguished person,
or on an occasion of some kind justifying the most deliberate and
careful preparation. An oration, therefore, more than any other
kind of discourse, must have a full and rounded completeness as a
work of art. The most finished specimen, probably, of an oration,
in recent times, was the eulogy on Washington, by Edward Everett.
Addresses. — An Address is a discourse nearly akin to an
oration, but somewhat less formal in character, and much less
restricted in regard to the occasion and the subject.
Occasions. — One may deliver an address on almost any occasion,
and on every variety of subject, lowly or lofty. The Governor of
26
302 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
a State, the President of a College, or the Chairman of a political
meeting, on entering upon the duties of his office, usually delivers
an address.
College Addresses. — Perhaps, in the United States, the kind of
address which has received most attention is that of which we
have annually so many examples at our College Commencements.
I refer not to the speeches of the graduating classes, but to those
delivered before the literary societies of the College, and on their
invitation, by graduates of high standing in the various profes-
sions.
Sermons. — A Sermon is a formal discourse by a clergy-
man, intended for religious instruction, and founded usually
on some passage of Scripture.
Sermons are too well known to require further description.
Lectures. — A Lecture is a discourse intended primarily for
instruction, and on any subject, secular or religious.
Kinds of Lectures. — Lectures may be conveniently divided into
three different kinds, namely: 1. Those delivered in schools, col-
leges, and other institutions of learning, for the direct purpose of
instructing a class. 2. Those delivered in churches, usually on some
week-day evening, for the purpose of religious instruction and ex-
hortation, and less formal than a sermon. 3. Those delivered before
a popular audience, on some secular subject, and intended partly to
entertain, and partly to instruct.
Lectures so called. — There is a class of public performances, whose
sole object is to create amusement, and that not of the most ele-
vated kind. These are sometimes called lectures, but they have no
legitimate claim to the title, any more than the performances of a
band of negro minstrels.
Speeches. — Every kind of discourse is in some sense a
speech. But the term Speech is often used in a special and
restricted sense. In this sense it differs from the other kinds
of discourse in being always intended to be spoken, while the
others are mainly intended to be read ; in not being intended
PROSE COMPOSITION— DISCOURSES. 303
for instruction, as the others mostly are; and in not being
limited to any particular subject or occasion.
Occasions. — The most common places for speech-making are
courts of justice, legislative assemblies, and popular conventions
of various kinds, political, educational, and religious.
Speeches are usually delivered extemporaneously, that is, they are
composed at the time and in the act of delivery, though they may
be, and often are, composed beforehand and committed to memory.
The kinds of discourse here enumerated by no means exhaust the
subject. They include, however, the principal varieties, and are suf-
ficiently comprehensive for the present purpose.
General Principles. — In the construction of all the more formal
kinds of discourse, certain general principles are to be observed.
These are the following:
1. Unity. — A Discourse which is to produce a profound
impression must maintain a certain unity of subject. This
is as important in a public discourse as it is in an epic poem.
Explanation. — A speaker does not infringe upon the unity of his
discourse by introducing a variety of topics, provided all those top-
ics have some common bond of union, connecting and subordinating
them all to one leading thought or purpose. A man might in one
lecture, without serious distraction of the minds of his audience,
discourse on Bryant, Longfellow, Whittier, and Boker, because they
are all poets, all Americans, and all contemporaries, and he might
use them to illustrate some one general topic in literature, or literary
history. But were he to attempt in the same lecture to discuss Bry-
ant's Thanatopsis, the character of Wellington, and the discovery of
gunpowder, he would assuredly distract the minds of his audience,
and weaken the effect of whatever he had to say.
2. Adaptation to the Audience. — In a Discourse to be read
or spoken to others, we must, both in the subject selected and
in the manner of treating it, have reference to the character
of the persons addressed.
Different from a Treatise. — Discourses differ in this respect from
ordinary treatises, in which the author has to look at his subjeot
304 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
only. A man might with propriety lecture on differential calculus
to a company of savans or to an advanced class in college, but he
could hardly do so to a mixed popular assembly. Whoever wishes
to succeed as a lecturer, or as a speaker of any kind, must study his
audience as well as his subject, and adapt his discourse both to the
occasion and the hearers.
3. Symmetry. — A Discourse is symmetrical when it has
all the parts belonging to such a production, and these parts
are all in due order and correlation.
Parts of a Discourse. — The parts properly belonging to a formal
discourse are — 1. The Introduction. 2. The Statement of the Sub-
ject. 3. The Main Discourse. 4. The Conclusion. On each of
these a few observations will be made.
1. The Introduction. — A formal introduction or exordium is not
always required. Its object, when used, is, first, to conciliate the
goodwill of the hearers; secondly, to gain their attention; thirdly,
to make them open to conviction by removing any prejudices or
prepossessions they may have against the topic or the cause which
we are about to present. As a good introduction is one of the
most important, so it is one of the most difficult parts of a discourse.
Things to be Observed. — The rules to be observed in regard to it are: first,
that it be easy and natural, arising from the subject itself; secondly, that it be
expressed with more than usual accuracy and care, as the hearers are never in
so critical a mood as then ; thirdly, that it have an air of modesty, which in the
beginning of a discourse is especially prepossessing; fourthly, that it should be
calm and moderate, the audience being not yet prepared for anything strong
and vehement; fifthly, that it should not anticipate any of the main points of
the discourse, and thus deprive them of the advantage of novelty, when they are
brought forward for consideration.
2. The Statement. — When by a good introduction a speaker has
done what he can to gain for himself and his subject a favorable
hearing, his next business is to' state the subject of his discourse.
The only rule to be observed in regard to this is that the subject
should be stated in few and simple words, and with the utmost pos-
sible clearness.
3. The Main Discourse. — Writers on rhetoric have made here
many subdivisions, such as the explication or narration, the divi-
sion, the argumentative part, and the pathetic part, and under each
PROSE COMPOSITION— DISCOURSES. 305
of these they have laid down almost numberless rules. But the
utility of such rules and divisions is very much doubted. Each man
must of necessity be left to his own judgment and powers of inven-
tion as to the best manner of constructing the body of his discourse.
No two topics ordinarily are to be handled precisely alike ; no two
writers handle the same topic exactly in the same way ; no writer
himself handles a topic in the same way under different circum-
stances.
4. The Conclusion. — The Conclusion or Peroration of a discourse,
like the Introduction, requires special care. The object in the con-
clusion is to leave as strong an impression as possible upon the
minds of the audience.
How Done. — Sometimes this is done by reserving to the last the
strongest part or head of the discourse and ending with it. Some-
times the speaker gives a brief and striking summary of the whole
discourse. The main thing to be observed is to hit upon the pre-
cise time for bringing the discourse to a point. If this is done too
abruptly, it leaves the hearers expectant and dissatisfied. If, when
the discourse seems ended and the hearers are looking for the close,
the speaker continues turning round and round the point, without
coming to a pause, the audience become restless and tired. There
are indeed very few speakers that know how or when to stop.
26* U
Part II
INVENTION.
In the Introduction to the present Treatise, it was remarked that
Bhetoric, or the Art of Discourse, is naturally divided into two
parts, Invention and Style. Logically, Invention would seem to
come first, and Style afterwards. For practical convenience, how-
ever, this arrangement has been reversed, and Style has been treated
of first.
Invention, as used in Rhetoric, means finding out what to
say.
Invention is divided into two branches: 1. Storing the
mind with knowledge; 2. Selecting from this general store-
house the thoughts needed for any particular occasion.
Storing the Mind. — The first of these belongs to education and
general intellectual culture, rather than to Rhetoric. If one is to
write on any given subject, he can, of course, know better what to
say, if he is a man of profound and varied knowledge.
Mistake of the Older Writers. — Hence, some of the ancient writers on
this subject included under Rhetoric the whole circle of the sciences. But this
is to mistake entirely the nature and design of Rhetoric. In order to the
practice of this art we need, indeed, varied knowledge, just as we need boards
and beams and other materials in order to practise the art of carpentry. It is
not a part of the art of carpentry, however, to create these materials ; but, the
materials being already in existence and in possession, carpentry, having to
make some particular structure, finds out which of these materials will be
needed for (lie occasion.
306
INVENTION. 307
The Office of Invention. — Somewhat similar to this Is the office of Inven-
tion in rhetoric. When one undertakes to discourse on any particular point, he
must hunt up thoughts in regard to it ; and these he will find, partly in his
already acquired knowledge, and partly by special study for the occasion ; and
the more comprehensive is his general knowledge and education, the less of this
special study will he have to make when finding materials for discourse.
Comparative Importance. — Invention is, from the necessity of the
case, of more importance than Style. It is more important surely
to have something of substantial interest and value to say, than to
be able to trick out vapid nothings in forms of grace and elegance.
Difficulty.— As invention is the more important of the two, so it is incom-
parably the more difficult. Indeed, as to its principal functions, it is not in the
power of mere rhetoric to supply what is needed. Invention, except in its
lowest and most mechanical details, is not a thing to be taught. It is a part of
one's native endowment, and of his general intellectual accumulations. To
gather and muster the materials for an essay, as Macaulay would have done,
one needs Macaulay's genius and Macaulay's learning. No amount or inge-
nuity of pumping will draw water from a well that is dry.
The Great Desideratum. — So far as human efforts are concerned,
the first and great thing that is needed, in order to be able to pro-
duce thoughts which shall be valuable and interesting, is to acquire
extensive knowledge and thorough mental discipline, and this is to
be accomplished, as already said, by general education and study,
not by the application of rhetorical rules.
A Help. — While freely conceding this point, I yet think it is in
the power of the rhetorical art to help considerably the beginner in
the use of such materials as he has. To furnish some such help is
the object of the chapters which follow.
Ancient Mode. — The ancient writers on rhetoric, and some of
recent date, have given a great variety of technical rules, some of
them exceedingly formal and elaborate, for conducting these pro-
cesses of invention.
Mode here Adopted. — Instead of producing such a learned array
of barren formulas, which, at the best, are only perplexing to the
beginner in the art of composition, as they are useless to the expert,
the plan here adopted is to give a series of practical examples, in
illustration of the actual process of invention, beginning with such
as are extremely simple, and proceeding gradually to such as are
more difficult.
CHAPTER I.
COMPOSITIONS ON OBJECTS.
To the Teacher. — 1. The examples given in the first few pages are for begin-
ners. If your class is already somewhat proficient in composition and in gen-
eral knowledge, it will be well to skip the first chapter or two, and begin farther
on in the book, where the exercises are less simple.
2. Beginners in composition should not be allowed to write on abstract sub-
jects, such as Happiness, Hypocrisy, Intemperance, Procrastination, and the
like, but on some concrete, visible object, with which they are familiar.
3. In assigning subjects to a class, it is well at first to help them in making
an outline of the things to be said about it. After this has been done for them
a few times, they will have no difficulty in doing it for themselves, and finally
in writing out their ideas at once, without making the preliminary outline.
4. Try to possess your pupils from the first with the idea that what they have
to do is simply to express in words what they know, or what they think, about
the subject proposed.
5. At first, aim only at copiousness, correcting no faults except those in gram-
mar and punctuation, and encouraging pupils to write freely whatever thoughts
occur about the subject, and in whatever order they occur.
6. When the class begin to write freely, and find no difficulty in filling a page
or two with their loose remarks, then begin to criticise and correct.*
7. In making these corrections, proceed with only one class of faults at a fime,
and correct no fault except this, until the pupils have become pretty familiar
with it. Then take some other fault or excellence, and proceed in like manner.
8. After a class can write with facility and general correctness, then begin to
experiment upon the use of figures and other graces of style.
Example. — Subject, Paper.
To the Teacher.— In assigning a subject like this to a class of young schol-
ars, the teacher should direct their attention to the various points in regard to it,
about which they will be likely to have some idea. In this way a preliminary
Outline of the subject may be formed. Thus :
Outline.
1. General appearance of paper.
2. Its color.
* For methods of correction, see page 347.
COMPOSITIONS ON OBJECTS. 309
3. Some of the forms in which it comes.
4. Materials of which it is usually made.
5. Some of its uses.
6. Ways in which it may be destroyed, or unfitted for use.
Composition.
1. The general appearance of paper is that of a thin, light sheet,
With a smooth and uniform surface.
2. Its color is various. Sometimes it is white, sometimes pink,
sometimes it has a bluish tinge, sometimes it is mottled. Indeed, it
may be of any color, but most commonly it is white.
3. Paper usually comes in sheets, and these sheets are of various
sizes, such as note-paper, letter-paper, and foolscap. These sheets
are put up in small packages called quires, and the quires are put
into larger packages called reams. Twenty-four sheets make a
quire, and twenty quires make a ream.
4. Paper is usually made of old rags, but I believe it may be made
of many other things, such as straw and bark ; but I never saw a
paper-mill, and, therefore, I cannot say certainly. Linen rags are
said to be better than cotton rags for making paper. Men often go
round from house to house to buy old rags, which they sell to the
paper-makers. These rag-men never buy woollen rags for this pur-
pose ; and if the linen rags are sorted out and kept by themselves,
they will bring a higher price than other rags. My mother lets me
have all the rags in our house, and I keep them put away in a bag,
and the money for which they are sold is mine to spend or to put
into the missionary-box.
5. Paper is used chiefly for writing and for printing. Composi-
tions are written on paper. Newspapers and books are printed on
paper. Bank-bills are made of paper. Paper is used for making
boxes and for covering walls. Boys1 kites are made of paper; so
are men's collars sometimes.
6. Paper is very easily destroyed by fire. It burns sooner than
almost anything else. Water also injures it badly. It is not tough
like leather, but is easily torn. Paper is damaged by being rumpled.
If you want your composition or your letter to look nice, you must
take good care of your paper, and keep it smooth and clean. I
keep my paper in a portfolio which my father gave me for a Christ-
mas present.
310 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
To the Teacher. — In the imaginary composition given above, the para-
graphs are for convenience numbered to correspond to the numbers in the
outline.
Perhaps, in the first few compositions which a class may write, it may be well
for them in like manner to number the topics and paragraphs. After a while,
however, the practice should be discontinued.
The plan here adopted, of first making an outline of topics, and then writing
something upon each topic, has the important incidental advantage of teaching
beginners the difficult art of paragraphing correctly. What is written under
each head or topic naturally forms a paragraph by itself, and thus the pupils
easily fall into the way of dividing their matter into paragraphs according to the
natural divisions of the subject.
Beginners should be encouraged, not merely to state facts on the subjects of
which they write, but to mix up their own notions and feelings about these facts,
as the writer of the foregoing composition has done at the close of his fourth and
sixth paragraphs.
Example.— Subject, Water.
Outline.
1. Differences between water and wood.
2. Differences between water and air.
3. Effect of extreme cold upon water.
4. Effect of extreme heat upon water.
5. Different kinds of water.
6. Benefits of water.
Note.— The teacher should prepare similar suggestive outlines on each sub-
ject assigned until the class become familiar with the method, and begin to
show signs of being able to make their own outlines. When they thus begin to
make outlines for themselves, the teacher will for a while find it necessary to
supplement their attempts by suggestions of his own, to be added to theirs. He
must exercise his discretion as to how long this help should be continued, and
when the pupils should be required to make the entire outline without help.
The preparation of this outline is of the very essence of invention. It sets the
pupil at once to thinking — to gathering thoughts, instead of putting together
mere words. The outline, therefore, should be a leading portion of the exercise
for a long time, and should in each case be submitted to the teacher for inspec-
tion and comment, before the composition is written.
Additional Subjects.
Fire,
Air,
Wood,
Iron,
Leather,
Chalk,
Grass,
Houses,
Dogs,
Bricks,
Skates,
Dolls,
Flowers,
Fruits,
Penknives.
COMPOSITIONS ON OBJECTS. 311
Note 1. — Children should continue for some time to write on subjects like
these — natural objects with which they are daily familiar. In writing upon
those topics, however, they should be continually stimulated to do something
more than merely give a dry, semi-scientific enumeration of the qualities and
properties of the object described. Let them, on the contrary, freely mix up
their own personality in the matter, telling what particular kind of dolls, or
skates, or dogs they like, who was burned by the fire, who fell into the water,
and so on. Children will find no difficulty in having something to write, when
once they have made the discovery that writing compositions is merely putting
upon paper their knowledge of such things as they are acquainted with, and
telling what they think about them.
Note 2.— No rule can be given for the length of time which children should
be kept upon compositions of the kind already illustrated. It depends a good
deal upon the age at which the pupil begins the exercise. If scholars begin to
write compositions at the age of nine or ten, they may be kept upon such themes
for a year or two, writing as often as once or twice a week. Any teacher of ordi-
nary inventive powers can supply subjects. If, however, as is often the case,
the scholar is already considerably advanced in years and knowledge before
beginning to write compositions, two or three examples of this kind may be suf-
ficient, before proceeding to those more difficult. The decision of this point
must, in each case, be left to the discretion and judgment of the teacher.
For method of correcting compositions, see page 347.
CHAPTER II.
COMPOSITIONS ON TRANSACTIONS.
Note.— The examples which are given in this chapter, while still occupied
mainly with the concrete and the visible, rather than with abstract qualities and
relations, yet differ clearly from those in Chapter I. The topics in the first
chapter are simply objects. Those now to be given involve what may be called
transactions.
Example,— Subject, On Going to School.
Outline.
1. The object of going to school.
2. The age for going to school.
3. Behavior at school.
4. Behavior on the road to and from school.
5. Difference between a school and a religious meeting.
6. The usual exercises of a school.
7. School-time.
Composition.
1. The object of going to school is to learn those things which will
be useful to us when we are grown up. One who goes to school,
and learns to read well, and to write a beautiful hand, and knows a
great many things, is much more thought of than one who cannot
read or spell, and who has to make his mark instead of writing his
name. An ignorant man, who never went to school, is not much
thought of.
2. The proper age for people to go to school is when they are
young, before they have to work to get a living. Young boys and
girls are not strong enough to do much worfc, but they can go to
COMPOSITIONS ON TRANSACTIONS. 313
school and study just as well as not, for they have nothing else to
do. If they play truant, and manage to get out of going to school,
they will be very sorry for it afterwards. Some children go to
school when they are only five years old, but I think that is rather
too young. Six or seven seems to me a good age to begin. Those
who are to be doctors, or lawyers, or ministers, or something of that
kind, go to school a great many years. They go first to the common
school, then to the High School or the Academy, then to the College
and the Seminary, and they do not stop going until they are grown-
up men. But most persons have to leave school when they get to
be fourteen or fifteen. I expect to leave school before I am sixteen.
I should like very much to go to College.
3. It is not very easy to behave well in school, so many things
happen to make one laugh and to forget all about the rules. The
hardest thing of all is to keep from whispering. But it is right for
the teacher to forbid it, for if all could talk as much as they pleased,
there would not be much study done. There is no excuse for boys
and girls playing tricks on each other in school, and watching when
the teacher's back is turned, so that they may throw spitballs or do
something to make the other scholars laugh. Such behavior is with-
out excuse. If scholars would behave well in school, they would
be a great deal happier, for they would enjoy the approbation of
their teachers, they would learn much more, and they would not be
kept in so often, or be punished so often.
4. Misbehavior on the rbad to and from school always looks bad.
It gives people a bad opinion of the school, and also of the families
to which the scholars belong. It looks as if the scholars were very
ill-bred, and did not know what good manners are. Besides, when
the school breaks up, it makes a large crowd in the street, and if
the scholars are rude and unmannerly, they incommode people who
are going by. It is wrong for the scholars, while going home from
school, to throw stones or snowballs, or anything of that kind, in
the street, for they often break people's windows, or hit ladies and
gentlemen who are passing.
5. I know that a school is very different from a religious meeting
or a church, but I do not know that I can explain the difference very
clearly. In the church that I go to, one man preaches or prays or
exhorts, and all the rest sit still and listen. But in school, we are
divided into classes, and we all read and recite in turn. It is a
great deal stiller in church that it is in school, but I suppose school
27
314 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
would be a good deal better if we were quieter than we are. Boys
and girls never think of playing such pranks in church as they do
in school. It would be awful.
6. The exercises in our school are reading, spelling, writing, study-
ing, and reciting our different lessons. Sometimes we sing. Some-
times we choose sides in spelling, and see which can beat. Com-
position is another exercise. Also we have speaking once a week.
7. School-time in most schools is from 9 o'clock to 12 in the morn-
ing, and from 2 o'clock to 4 in the afternoon. There is a recess in
the middle of the forenoon, and no school at all on Saturday, or in
Christmas week, or on Washington's birthday, or the 4th of July.
Then we have a week's vacation in spring, and a long vacation in
summer. Scholars are always impatient for vacation to come, but
generally get tired of it before it is over.
Example.— Subject, On Travelling.
Outline.
1. Different modes of travelling.
2. Things to be gained by travelling.
3. Mishaps and dangers to be encountered in travelling.
4. Some of the places and people that I would like to visit.
5. Books of travel which I have read, and the countries,
etc., described in them. #
Other Subjects.
1. The Study of Geography.
2. The Study of History.
3. Cultivating Flowers.
4. Obedience to Parents.
5. Giving Way to Anger.
6. Early Rising.
7. Treatment of Animals.
8. Learning to Draw.
9. Attention to Dress.
10. Going to the Circus.
In giving additional subjects under this head, the teacher should limit himself
to such as are familiar to the scholars, and involve a transaction of some kind.
CHAPTER III.
COMPOSITIONS ON ABSTRACT SUBJECTS.
After a sufficient number of examples have been given of themes involving
simply objects, as in Chapter I., and familiar transactions, as in Chapter II., the
scholar should begin to undertake themes involving abstract qualities, though
still confining himself to such as are of a very familiar character. Such are the
following :
Example. — Subject, Fear.
Outline.
1. A Definition of fear.
2. Uses of fear.
3. Signs of fear.
4. Unreasonable fears.
5. Keasonable fears.
Composition.
1. Fear is defined to be "a painful emotion excited by an appre-
hension of impending danger." In this definition, which is taken
from the dictionary, there are four things to be noticed. First, fear
is an emotion of the mind. This distinguishes it from bodily acts
and affections. Secondly, it is painful. This distinguishes it from
many other mental emotions, such as joy and the like. Thirdly, it
is excited in view of something impending, or yet to come. This
distinguishes it from remorse, and other such feelings, which refer
to what is past. Fourthly, it is excited in view of coming danger.
This distinguishes it from hope, and feelings of that kind which
look forward to coming happiness. The definition, therefore, in-
cludes a great deal, although it is short.
315
316 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
2. Fear has many uses. It makes people careful. There would
be a great many more crimes than there now are, if wicked men
were not afraid of the consequences of wrong-doing. Fear of being
drowned makes boys more careful about going into the water.
Fear of bad marks or of other kinds of punishment sometimes keeps
scholars from misbehaving, or from neglecting their lessons. Horses
and dogs and other animals are made to mind through fear of their
master; but that is not the only motive, for they often seem to do
things from affection, and even from ambition and from pride.
3. Though fear is a mental, not a bodily affection, it shows itself
by bodily signs. When a horse is frightened, he often trembles all
over, but generally he runs away, looking wildly out of his eyes.
When a dog is afraid, he hangs his head and sneaks away, with, his
tail drooping between his legs. Almost all animals crouch and
lower their heads when they are afraid. In men, fear shows itself
chiefly in their loss of color. A man who is very much terrified
generally becomes ghastly white. I have seen it stated that the
reason of this is that the blood leaves the face and rushes back
toward the heart. People who are frightened look wild out of the
eyes also, just as horses and other animals do. Another common
sign of fear, both with animals and with men, is that it leads them
to cry out, scream, roar, or make some other frantic noise.
4. Fear is unreasonable when it is without any good cause, or
when the danger apprehended is imaginary. It is this kind of fear
which leads ignorant people to be afraid of the dark, or of witches
and ghosts. Horses often get frightened at imaginary danger.
They see a leaf stir at the side of the street, and they seem to think
it is some monster about to spring upon them, and off they jump to
the other side of the street. Horses seem more easily frightened
than any other animals by unreal danger. When a person looks
down from the top of a house or of a high tower, he is apt to be
afraid, even though there is a strong railing, so that he could not
fall over if he tried. This seems to be an unreasonable fear, and
yet almost everybody feels it. We have the same feeling w\wn
standing on the platform of a railroad station, as the engine comes
thundering up. We know we are beyond its reach, and yet we in-
voluntarily shrink back from the monster.
5. Fear is reasonable when the evil apprehended is real, and is of
such magnitude that it is likely to cause us great distress. If a man
had fallen upon the railroad track, and his feet had caught fast in
COMPOSITIONS ON ABSTRACT SUBJECTS. 317
the timbers, so that he could not get off, and he should see the
train coming at full speed, he would be horribly afraid, and his fear
would be perfectly reasonable. If a man had murdered another, or
had committed any great crime, he would have reason to be afraid,
because the hand of justice may at any time overtake him. The
Bible says, uBe sure your sin shall find you out." A man who
commits a crime is like a man who is entangled on a railroad track,
and he knows not when the engine will come rushing along, and
overwhelm him. It is said that thieves and burglars, though some-
times desperate, are great cowards, and, indeed, they have reason
to be. There is one fear which we should all have, and that is the
fear of God our Maker.
Note. — In beginning a composition on a subject like the foregoing, it will
often be found convenient to begin by taking a definition from the dictionary.
It is not necessary, however, always to begin in this way. The teacher should
see to it that the method is varied.
Example,— Subject, Memory.
Outline.
1. The importance of being able to remember what we have
seen or heard of.
2. How far back the writer can go in his recollection of
things which happened to himself.
3. Instances of very great memory which we have known
or read of.
4. Methods of improving the memory.
5. Danger of overtaxing the memory.
6. Indications of memory in animals.
Other Subjects.
Friendship, Improvement of Time,
Hatred, Advantages of a Good Education,
Perseverance, A Habit of Procrastination,
Industry, The Danger of Bad Company,
Ambition, The Use of Profane Language.
Note. —Subjects like these are very common, and may be multiplied in-
definitely at the discretion of the teacher.
27*
CHAPTER IV.
COMPOSITIONS ON IMAGINARY SUBJECTS.
To Teachers. — Exercises like those already given, if persistently followed
up, can hardly fail to beget in the pupil some readiness of invention, as well as
some facility of expression. But there is danger, if the plan is followed ex-
clusively, of its leading to a sort of mechanical and monotonous formalism.
Something is needed, therefore, to stir the imagination, which in the young is
almost always capable of great activity, if properly appealed to. The best method
of awakening this faculty is to assign unreal subjects, in which the scholar has
no resource but simply to make up something out of his own head. Teachers
who have never tried this plan will be surprised to find how inventive the young
mind naturally is. Such a plan is only employing, in the exercise of com-
position, the dramatic and creative talent which almost all children show in
their sports.
Examples of this sort of compositions are given here, for practical convenience
in exhibiting those of the same kind together. But in actual teaching, it is better
to use exercises of this kind interchangeably with those described in Chapters
I., II., and III. The teacher may begin to assign subjects of the kind now under
consideration as soon as the scholar has written two 6r three compositions like
those in Chapter I., and so the practice may be continued as an occasional varia-
tion all through the exercises in the first three chapters. Indeed, the practice
is a good one at every stage of the process of learning to compose, though most
valuable in the early stages.
In assigning these imaginary subjects, no preliminary outline is needed. None,
indeed, is possible. An outline is based upon logical considerations, whereas
here there is no basis of logic to build upon, but the whole thing is left design-
edly to the caprice of the imagination, working according to " its own sweet
will."
Instead of making up examples under this head, I give some which were
actually written as school exercises, and without any expectation on the part of
the writers that the exercises would ever appear in print. They are given with
all their imperfections, as thereby showing better the real character of the exer-
cise. Some of them, it is hardly necessary to say, are from extremely juvenile
authors.
318
COMPOSITIONS ON IMAGINARY SUBJECTS. 319
Examples. — Subject, The Man in' the Moon.
1. By a Miss of Ten.
I do not know from whence this phrase originated. It is certainly-
false, for there is no such thing as a man in the moon. But I know
by my own experience, that the longer you look at the moon, the
plainer you can see the face. This is all imagination. The dark
places that we see, are caused by the reflection of the sun shining
on the mountains. The sailors think there is a man in the moon,
for they have been to sea [see]. Some old bachelors say, that the
reason why the girls look so much at the moon, is because there is
a man in it. I do not know anything more about this subject than
"the man in the moon."
2. By a Miss of Thirteen.
It has been ascertained by scientific observation that the moon is
uninhabited, by reason of its being so hot as to be unable to sup-
port life. A man with salamandrine qualities might possibly be an
inhabitant of the lunar realms, and only a man with such qualities
can we suppose the man in the moon to be ; but, oh ! what a stretch
our imagination has to take to imagine such a marvellous thing.
The man with whom I have formed an acquaintance came into
existence about a century after the Creation. Jove, finding that if
the moon had not something to temper its light to mortal eyes, it
would so dazzle as to blind us, placed his deformed child Vulcan in
the subterranean vaults of Mount Etna, there to manufacture a shield
to protect us from its brilliancy.
Vulcan, being very ingenious, first constructed a woman, but find-
ing she had so great a propensity for running after the sun that she
was never in her place, he threw her into the crater of Vesuvius,
and then set about constructing something more enduring. He
wished to make something just the opposite of woman, and his
mind immediately settled on a man as her antipodes. So he sent
his workmen to Stromboli while it was in a state of eruption, to
collect the burning lava ; and having brought it to Etna, he moulded
it with his own hands into the shape of a man. Vulcan then cooled
it, and, when sufficiently cold, carried it to the court of Jove for his
inspection.
Jove was delighted with it, and wishing to confer as great an
honor as possible on Vulcan, he breathed into the nostrils of the
320 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
lava man, this being the greatest honor that could be bestowed.
Vulcan then carried it back to Etna, and having heated it to the
highest pitch, transported it up to the moon, where, instead of
placing it directly in the interior, he suspended it by a cord from
the throne of Jove at the back of it. He then inclined the man so
that his nose, mouth, and eyes projected from the outside of the
moon, thus tempering the light, and making it more pleasant to our
eyes.
This is the origin of the man in the moon.
The features of the man projecting have given rise to the story
of the mountains in the moon.
3. By a Miss of Fifteen.
From early childhood I have always entertained the most pro-
found respect for this personage, and presume I ever shall, for
reasons some of which will be stated in my brief account of him.
Even the mention of his name, unequalled in the annals of time
for simplicity, fills one with admiration and awe. He bears no sur-
name, and his family name is unknown. This was lost by a fatal
accident. A comet went whirling around the moon once, and by
its extreme velocity ignited the parchments containing the record
of this illustrious family : thus was lost to succeeding generations
one of the brightest names that ever illuminated the solar system.
There is a tradition that he declined even the noted names of the
Grecian gods, and scornfully rejected the honorable ones of Jupiter,
Saturn, Neptune, Mars, Mercury, and many others, but sent them
to the planets which now bear these names. He does not depend,
however, upon such trifling coincidences for reputation.
If there are other inhabitants of his native orb, he is sufficiently
renowned to be universally known by the unostentatious cognomen
of " the man," and even at the distance of two hundred and forty
thousand miles, the simple title " the man in the moon " is proclaimed
with reverence among the nations.
Having exhausted my knowledge in regard to my hero's name, I
will proceed to describe his personal appearance, hoping he will not
be lowered in my hearers' estimation by the account.
He has a very open countenance, but lacks expression, and if one
views him only when turned full face, he has anything but an ani-
mated countenance.
COMPOSITIONS ON IMAGINARY SUBJECTS. 321
But I can evade the startling fact no longer. Although his fea-
tures are good, he is either all head and face, or else he possesses
the other attributes of the human frame in a very diminutive form,
that is, according to our physiological ideas; but undoubtedly cor-
rect principles of this science as believed by the inhabitants of Luna
are far superior to our own.
Well, we will naturally speak of his position in life next. He has
always stood very, very high in society; even the greatest kings
and queens of earth have been obliged to look up to him. His char-
acter is unsurpassable. If this were not the case he would never
have retained his exalted position.
The record of his age was lost at the same time that his name
perished. But that he has arrived to the years of maturity, you
will believe when I inform you he was a man when my great-great-
grandfather was a boy.
Some upstarts have made faint attempts to prove his existence
false, but we will (thanks to our early education) continue to cry,
14 Long live the man in the moon."
4. By a Young Lady of Eighteen.
This most august character, who occupies so conspicuous a posi-
tion before the eyes of the world, is unquestionably the most an-
cient personage of which the inhabitants of this mundane sphere
have any knowledge. The poor old Wandering Jew should not be
mentioned in the same day with him, for there is no comparison
between their ages. Before a Jew was ever seen upon the earth,
this old man sat enthroned in the moon, and there he will continue
to the end of time. He certainly holds his age remarkably well,
for, although he is rather gray, his eye is as bright, and his strength
and activity are as great as when he first took possession of his
exalted position.
The " man " is very fond of travelling, and is easy and graceful
in all his movements, as all will affirm who have ever watched him
sailing among the clouds in a pleasant evening. The moon is his in-
separable companion ; he carries it with him wherever he goes, and
takes the best care of it. Astronomers tell us (and they should know,
for they spend a great deal of time in observing his movements) that
he carries it along at the rate*of 54,000 miles a day. He always takes
the same route. The earth seems to possess some peculiar attrac-
V
322 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
tion over him, and he spends his whole time in travelling round and
round our planet, though at a great distance. I never heard of his
desiring to come nearer except once, which I will tell about presently.
As to his family, we do not know much. I rather suspect old
Mother Goose is one of his near relations, for she seems to make
frequent excursions in that direction, and is the only one who is
able to enlighten us much concerning his habits. If that old " cow "
she tells us about, who once jumped over the moon, could only find
a tongue, no doubt we might receive much valuable information
from her, for she certainly had a most favorable opportunity of
overlooking his movements.
I imagine that green cheese is the man's chief article of diet. He
seems to have an unlimited supply of it, and it has the remarkable
property of the widow's cruse of oil. It never grows less. I sup-
pose he very naturally gets tired sometimes eating this one thing,
and wishes for a greater variety. Mother Goose tells us a short
story about him, which I think favors the truth of this supposition.
It seems that one day he became remarkably hungry, and his stom-
ach craved something besides green cheese ; so he formed the deter-
mination to come down to the abode of men, and get something
different. Very early one fine morning, having so arranged matters
that the moon could get along without him for a short time, he
started, and, riding upon a beam of light at his usual rate, he reached
the earth in about four days and a half. It was just about noon
when he arrived, and after a little difficulty in finding Norwich,
where I suppose Mother Goose resided, he sat down with her to a
dinner of cold bean-porridge. Here my feelings overcome me. The
scene which followed baffles description. Alas, unfortunate man,
that your first experience here should be so bitter ! At such a catas-
trophe language fails us. Suffice it to say that, while busily engaged
in passing the said porridge from his plate to the cavity in the
lower part of his face, which was made for the purpose of receiving
and masticating food, he suddenly became conscious of a peculiar
sensation which he had never before experienced ; in short, he burnt
his mouth. After this sad experience he returned to his old quarters
in the moon, and I have never heard that he has since felt any in-
clination to repeat his visit. This anecdote shows us very conclu-
sively that he must enjoy a very cool temperature generally, and
from this we may draw the inference, as a sort of corollary, that
we never can receive any heat from the moon.
COMPOSITIONS ON IMAGINARY SUBJECTS. 323
I never knew until last evening that the man was ever troubled
with modesty. I know of a number of young ladies, who, talking
about him, were very anxious to catch a glimpse of his face, but
he persistently hid himself behind a cloud. This morning, how-
ever, he dragged me out of bed long before I had the slightest in-
clination to leave the pleasant land of Nod.
His principal occupation at present seems to consist in taking a
general oversight of the earth, and keeping its waters in a continual
state of agitation.
Sometimes he exerts a mysterious influence over poor mortals,
which frequently produces very queer effects. Occasionally we
hear of a poor young couple being suddenly moonstruck while inno-
cently enjoying an evening walk together. This is not generally so
immediately fatal as sunstroke, but frequently it causes the unfor-
tunate victims to wish they were dead, and their lives seldom run
smoothly afterward. I would advise all young people to beware of
" the man in the moon."
Example.— Subject, Columbus.
The following composition was written by a boy of nine. It is given merely
to show the facility for invention which children very early sometimes exhibit.
The boy was told not to put into the composition anything he had read about
Columbus, but to make it all up out of his own head. .
By a Boy of Nine.
Columbus started from England to discover America. He was
the happy owner of a small row-boat, and had two hoop-poles for
propellers. He took with him a loaf of bread, a clam-basket, and
an old ham-bone, also his brother Nicodemus. His brother had a
hat that measured five miles around the brim. He took with him
for society a pig, a cat, and a rat ; for fear they would quarrel, he
placed the rat in a sugar-bowl, the cat in a salt-box, and the pig
in the cabin. Columbus's watch was immense ; the hour-hand was
fifty feet long. One day the pig took a walk on the deck, and got
dizzy and fell overboard, and was drowned. He was 2 years, 3
months, 4 weeks, 5 days, 6 hours, 30 minutes, and 50 seconds old
at the time he died. Soon afterward, Columbus discovered the
Guanahani or Cat Island, so named on account of the tremendous
number of cats peopling the island.
324 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Other Subjects.
1. A Letter from Old Mother Hubbard concerning her Dog.
2. A True and Reliable History of Jack Horner.
3. The Early History of the Fly that was Invited into the
Parlor.
4. A Day with a Mermaid Under the Sea.
5. The Explorations of a Shark in the Wreck of an East
Indiaman.
6. A Tour on the Flying Dutchman.
7. An Involuntary Descent into a Volcano.
8. Our First Wo man -President.
9. The Chinaman's First Impressions of an Italian Opera.
10. Young America Transported back One Hundred Years.
11. When My Ship Comes in.
12. Why?
13. Among the Tigers.
14. Captured by a Crocodile.
15. Moonlight Revery.
16. Whispers from the Pines.
17. What I Saw in a Dream.
18. My Opposite Neighbor.
19. Wrecked on an Iceberg.
20. Set Adrift in Mid-Ocean.
21. A Sojourn on a Desert Isle.
22. The Man who Never Forgot.
23. Prove that the Moon is not made of Green Cheese.
24. Letter to the Man in the Moon.
25. Description of a Journey in a Balloon.
26. A Visit to the Mermaids in their Coral Groves.
27. What I Heard and Saw when I used my Invisible Ring.
28. A Day with Adam and Eve in Eden.
29. A Description of the First Day after Adam and Eve
left Eden.
30. The Good Fairy, and what She Did.
31. The Bad Fairy, and what He Did.
COMPOSITIONS ON IMAGINARY SUBJECTS. 325
32. What would have Happened, if Columbus had not
Discovered America?
33. What would have been the Condition of Europe, Asia,
and Africa, if America had not been Discovered ?
34. Do Circumstances make Great Men, or do Great Men
make Circumstances?
35. Would it be an Advantage or a Disadvantage, if the
Philosopher's Stone should be Discovered ?
36. What would be the Result, if the Nations were sud-
denly to find themselves Speaking and Reading but One
Language ?
37. A Year of Total Darkness.
38. A Year which should be All Day.
39. One Man's Life Prolonged to an Unusual Length, say
500 or 1000 Years.
40. Man Endowed with the Power of Flight.
41. One Man in the Possession of the Fountain of Per-
petual Youth.
28
CHAPTER V.
PERSONAL NARRATIVES.
Another class of exercises, well suited to develop invention, as well as to
break up the stiff formality to which beginners are liable, is that of Personal
Narratives. These narratives may either be real, giving an account of some-
thing which the writer has experienced, such as an excursion, a trip into the
country, and the like ; or they may be fictitious, giving an account of some im-
aginary adventure. These narratives, whether real or fictitious, should be in
the first person, and the writers should be encouraged to give the narrative,
when practicable, something of the dramatic form, introducing dialogue, telling
what was said by the several parties introduced. Some examples will be given
as the best way of illustrating what is meant. They are from writers of various
degrees of maturity.
Examples.— Subject, How I Spent my Vacation.
1. By a Boy of Thirteen.
The vacation was the third week in April, and I enjoyed it very-
much. The greatest fault I had to find with it was that it was too
short. Only to think of it! We had been cooped up in boarding-
school ever since Christmas, and then to have but one short week to
ourselves ! But the school broke up on Friday, and we did not have
to return until Monday of the week following vacation, so that we
had several days over the exact week, and we all made the most of
every minute. At least, I did for one. It seemed as if the locomo-
tive could not take me fast enough, although it did go thirty miles
an hour. My wishes went faster than old Mr. Steam, and in my
thoughts I was home before I started. Why don't they get some
machine to go by telegraph, for boys that are in a hurry to go home
from boarding-school? All schoolboys, I'm sure, would take the
lightning-train. Well, I reached the station at last, and there stood
Bob, the driver, smiling as a basket of chips, with old Sorrel and the
light wagon, ready to whirl us home ; and as soon as the train was
PERSONAL NARRATIVES. 327
off, we jumped into the wagon, and in about ten minutes there we
were at the door ! I don't think I'll tell you what was the first
thing done when I met mother and sister Julia, because only girls
talk about such things. But after that was over, what do you think
was the next thing I did? Well, you'll say I went with brother
Ben to see the new colt. No, you are out there. Well, then, you
guess we went to the barn-yard to see the fine brood of chickens
that Tom had been writing about. Wrong again. Well, I '11 tell
you. You see, I had not been home since Christmas, and during
that time an important young stranger had made his appearance in
the house, and I was anxious to see those cunning bright eyes and
funny little pink toes that sister Julia had been writing about in her
letters, and my first visit was made to the cradle in mother's room.
And, sure enough, there he was, the dearest little brother that any
schoolboy could wish to see. But I have reached the end of my
paper, and have not yet got through the first day of my vacation.
So you will have to guess the rest. Only, I had a real good time and
lots of fun. But I was right glad to see the boys again when school
reopened.
2. Also by a Boy.
First, I spent it, that is, I spent every particle of it, so that when
I arrived back here at Trenton, I had not a large enough piece left
to put out at interest, but I had to go to work to earn more. As to
the mode of spending it, I spent part in travel, part in play, and the
third part in work. As I am studying book-keeping, I suppose you
would like to have a bill of particulars.
Commenced business this day, April 9th, 1878, with eight days in
hand as paid-up capital.
Set out from Trenton at quarter of nine, arrived at Lambertville,
changed cars for Flemington, at which place I arrived at eleven
o'clock, took a stroll through the town, saw quite a number of
things, returned to the depot in time for the train, and was soon
travelling in the direction of Somerville. Arriving at that place,
went through the same performances as at Flemington, and at half-
past two was again travelling at the fast rate of four miles an hour,
and arrived at my destination at five o'clock. And now for my
travels back to Trenton. Reverse this, minus a few jokes, plus a
large quantity of rain, and you have the items for which I gave ^
of my vacation.
328 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
Play, the next item, or, in other words, Sundries, to include rest,
sleep, and play, which last consisted in gathering wild flowers, pull-
ing up stones to find shells, and best of all, hunting for salamanders
through the marsh without getting my feet wet. The price of this
item was § f- of my vacation.
Next item work, for which I gave f f of my vacation.
These are all the items that are necessary in journalizing the
transaction.
3. By a Miss of Twelve.
Here it is — the very first week of school, and we have to write
a composition ! Our teacher says we must write about M how I
spent my vacation." I spent mine just as I often spend my money,
and I have no good of it after it is all gone.
I thought that we would go away just as soon as school broke up,
and I told all the girls that they would not see me again until after
vacation was over ; but we did not go for ever so long. My Ma and
my big sisters did not get all of their dresses finished in time. They
had been getting ready, it seems to me, for a year, and they had
seamstresses and sewing-machines in the house for I don't know how
long. But it does take so long now to make anything, when ladies'
dresses, and little girls' too, are puffed, and ruffled, and tucked so
much, to say nothing of double skirts and panniers. How I did
wish they would go and take me to the country with just my old
school -frocks! Of course, my young-lady sisters thought I was a
foolish little girl, and I suppose I was; but then I know what I want.
After they were all ready to go, it was so late in the season that
when we arrived at Saratoga, all the good rooms were taken, and
we had to be put up at the top of the house in a little bit of a hot
room. There was no place to put our beautiful new dresses, or to
dress ourselves in. I did not care so much for that ; but my sisters
were real cross, for they like to see themselves when they dress,
and not to have a little bit of a looking-glass that was not much
bigger than your face. I had to be dressed up so much, while we
stayed at Saratoga, that I could not play and run about as I wanted
to, for Ma said I would spoil my new dresses that cost so much
money, and had so much work on them. After we left Saratoga
we were to visit an aunt of my father's, who lives in the real
country. I was so glad when I heard that! for I was sure that I
would have some fun there. It was a large house, and the orchards
PERSONAL NARRATIVES. 329
and fields and everything were ever so nice ; but it rained almost
all the time we had to stay there, and I could not be out of doors
hardly any. If I had had real thick boots, and calico dresses, I
might have gone out some days when it did not rain; but the
ground was wet, and I had to stay in the house almost all the time;
so I did not have much more fun at the farm than I did at Saratoga.
We reached home only the day before school began, and that
makes me feel as if I had spent my vacation and had no good of it.
4. By a Miss of Thirteen.
Well, it was vacation at last. I thought it would never come. I
was going down to Delaware County to spend a week with Aunt
Maria. I thought it would be fine fun to travel by myself, but
father hunted up a solemn old minister, who engaged to see me
safely half-way there, and into the right path for reaching my des-
tination. So he called for me, and off we trotted as gay as two old
grasshoppers. Mr. Featherstone was not half so solemn inside as he
was out, and by the time we reached the depot I felt quite pleased
with him. He bought the tickets and checked the baggage, and
when we reached the junction, where I changed cars — but he went
on — he gave me my ticket and a check, and wished me good-by.
I stuck my finger through the leather loop of the check, and held
my ticket as tight as a vice, seated myself in the train, and was soon
whisking away at a rapid rate. At last the cars stopped at my
station, and out I jumped, but never a sign of a carriage of any
description awaited my coming, and it slowly dawned on my be-
nighted vision that they had made a mistake. However, there I
was, and there I must be. So off I started for the depot-master,
keeping one eye roving around in search of my baggage, but it did
not appear. However, the man did, and I thrust my check in his
face, and demanded my baggage. "Here, Miss," he answered, and
dragged forward a rusty old valise, marked M. R. F. Horror of
horrors ! the old minister had made a mistake, and there was my
new blue-silk dress whisking off to Iowa with him, and here was I
with his old shirts and pantaloons, and sermons. Catch me making
such a mistake as that ! Thought I could n't travel alone, did he ?
Well, I would n't have changed baggage with an old minister, any-
how. Precious lot of good all my bows and ruffles will do him !
I felt like making a bonfire of all his sermons, and him too. •
28*
330 COMPOSITION AND RIIETORia
But it was of no use to scold the depot-master. He soon com-
prehended the joke, and almost laughed himself into convulsions.
After that, he said he would get me a wagon and drive me over.
Just then I felt in my pocket for my porte-monnaie. It was not
there, and then flashed across my mind a distinct notion of my
putting it down by my plate while I ate my breakfast. I tried to
explain matters to the man, but he only laughed the harder. At
last, a nice-looking young gentleman, with a black moustache, came
along in a light wagon, and very kindly took me over to Aunt Maria's.
He was very kind, for he telegraphed to Mr. Featherstone about
my baggage, and sent his on to him. When we reached aunt's we
found them just starting to meet the next train.
Well, I had a good time, after all. Aunt Maria shortened a nice
gingham wrapper for me to wear. My baggage never came until
the day before I left for home : but Mr. Frank Linden, the young
man with the black moustache, took me back, so there were no
more mistakes.
Example. — Subject, A Trip by Kail.
The following narrative is a specimen of the manner in which one may he sup-
posed to write who is more mature, and has had more experience in writing. It
is intended to show how many instructive things one may see in the course of an
hour's travel by railroad in any direction, or at any hour of the day, if he will
only keep his eyes open, and let his mind work upon what he sees. Even though
he goes over the same route every day in the year, he may every day see some-
thing new. The writer describes a ride in the cars from Philadelphia to Trenton.
1. By an Adult.
The last time I took my seat in the cars at the Kensington depot,
all the passengers were startled by a loud and angry altercation in
the adjoining car. Fears of personal violence, perhaps of homicide,
began to be excited. A young man, dressed as a gentleman, had
forced his way rudely into the car known as the "Ladies' Car," and
insisted on remaining there, though not accompanied by a lady. lie
said, on presenting himself at the entrance, that he had a lady in
company who was a little behind him, and having uttered this delib-
erate falsehood for the purpose of tricking the doorkeeper, coolly
walked in and took a seat. The official, faithful to his trust, and
finding himself deceived, followed the man into the car, acquainted
him civilly with the positive nature of the orders under which the
PERSONAL NARRATIVES. 331
conductors acted, and requested him to leave the car. Then fol-
lowed the loud bluster and bravado which had attracted the atten-
tion of even those in the next car. He never would leave the car
alive, never! "Just try to put me out, if you dare! I 'd like to see
you raise your hand on me. You 've mistaken your man this time ! "
and so on, and so on, the bully all the while talking louder, and with
more violent expressions, until he had worked himself up into quite
a fury. The well-trained and civil official used no threats, called
the man no hard names, did not taunt him with his impudent and
ungentlemanly falsehood, but insisted on his vacating the seat in
accordance with the regulations of the road. It was amusing to see
how the courage of the vaporous poltroon oozed out before the
steady and cool persistence of the doorkeeper, especially when
other officials began to appear in the background, adequate in num-
bers to carry into effect the orders under which they were acting.
So, in less than two minutes after his threats of violence and loud-
mouthed avowal that he would never, never, never leave the car
alive, the man quietly walked off like a whipped cur, amid the half-
restrained titter of the other passengers.
Soon after emerging from the depot, my attention was attracted
to another young man standing on the front platform. He was just
on the dividing line between youth and manhood, and everything
in his appearance and manner indicated that he was breaking away
from the restraints of home and school, and about to throw himself
into the current of gayety and dissipation. I happened to know
something of his history and of his present surroundings, and I could
not but tremble to look forward a few years into his probable future.
The jaunty air in which he wore his cap awry, as if ashamed to be
thought precise, the affected nonchalance with which he puffed out
the curling smoke from the cigar that was evidently sickening him,
the jockeying and slang expressions that occasionally fell from his
lips, all so out of keeping with the staid and decorous country-home
in which he had been nurtured, could not fail to awaken anxiety in
the mind of any one who observed him, and who had much experi-
ence of the way in which young men usually begin a downward
course. This youth has before his mind some false ideal that is lead-
ing him to ruin. Some city swell has struck his fancy, and he is
devoting his energies to making a poor imitation of the sorry article.
How I pity ! how my heart aches for his mother ! More young
men are led astray by bad taste, by their admiration of false stand-
332 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
ards, than by any inherent bad inclination. Fancy ruins more than
passion does. Such, at least, is my conviction, the result of a pretty
large acquaintance with young men.
In railway travel, I am often led to wonder what is the history of
the newsboys who supply us with newspapers and magazines. If I
am not mistaken, there is a gradual improvement in the character
of these young traders. They do not seem to me so reckless as they
used to be, years ago. Their business makes them sharp. But gen-
erally I find them honest and civil. Taking a fancy, this morning, to
the looks of one who sold me the " Press," I thought I would make
the experiment, in a very small way, to see what the boy was made
of. So, having finished reading my paper, and seeing his stock
nearly exhausted, as he was passing my seat industriously plying
his trade, I made him an offer of my copy. He looked at me very
curiously for a moment, as if not comprehending my meaning, and
when at length he understood that I meant to give him the paper,
which an hour before I had bought of him, his face beamed all
over with pleasure, and there was no mistaking the genuineness of
his " Thank you, sir." The gentleman in front of me, catching the
idea, handed the boy, in like manner, his paper, and a lady on the
other side of the car gave the boy hers. At each successive addi-
tion to his stock, it was worth to us many times the five cents into
which the boy presently coined it, to see the evidences of good feel-
ing and good breeding which it called out from him. I am almost
sure that the boy has a pleasant home and a good mother. I could
not but feel as if I would like to know something of his history,
outside of his car-life.
Every regular traveller over the southern end of the road between
Philadelphia and New York, is familiar with the "Maple-candy
Man." No vender of articles upon the cars is such a general favor-
ite. I had missed him for several months. What had become of
him, no one seemed to know. The newsboys had his candy for
sale, but it seemed somehow, not to have the same attractions as
when brought round in that quaint mahogany box, and offered with
the good-natured persuasions of the original seller. There was on
this occasion a general brightening up of faces as the u candy-man "
once more made his appearance, and very few in the cars allowed
him to pass without making an investment. Circumstances having
led me some years ago to make the acquaintance of this man, I took
the liberty to ask him the cause of his disappearance for the last
PERSONAL NARRATIVES. 333
few months from the scene of his daily operations. The narrative
which he gave me was not long, but it was full of significance. By
his industry, tact, and economy, he had, in his humble business of
making and selling maple-candy, not only supported comfortably
his family, but had laid up quite a snug little sum of money. Last
December he had the misfortune to make five hundred dollars by a
successful operation in "oil" stock. Said he: "It set me crazy; I
quit my business and went to the oil regions. I stayed there till I
had found the bottom of six thousand five hundred dollars of hard-
earned money, and now I have come back, a wiser man, to replace
by patient toil what I so rashly threw away." How many histories
are recorded in this one example !
On the opposite side of the car from me sat one of the most dis-
tinguished jurists of the land, absorbed in the newspaper. Not far
from Bristol, as we were passing Landreth's Seed-farm, the Chan-
cellor came over to where I sat, tapped me somewhat quickly on the
arm, and said, pointing out of the window, "Do you see that? "
"What?"
" That beautiful tree : I never pass this way, without stopping to
admire it."
Sure enough, there in the middle of the field, was a stately tree,
standing entirely alone, not so large or stately as many other trees
that I had seen ; but ample in its proportions, and in every branch,
limb, and leaf a picture of perfect vegetable health. More than all,
there was an individuality about this tree, as marked as that of a
human being, and I found it was this quality especially that had
attracted the attention of the Chancellor. He said he had his tree
acquaintances in almost every neighborhood that he visited in mak-
ing his circuits, and he went on to describe to me particular trees
that he had known, some of them for thirty and forty years. Each
of these, he said, seemed to him a personal friend, and he never
went into the neighborhood of any of them without going out and
looking at it. It was quite a new idea to me, this numbering par-
ticular trees, here and there over the country, as among one's per-
sonal acquaintances and friends. I had often, always, indeed, ad-
mired trees in the mass, as a forest, woods, or copse; but never
before had recognized that marked individuality which a tree ac-
quires when standing out by itself, alone in the midst of a large
field. This quality it is which gives them their singular power of
human companionship.
334 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
About half a mile out from Morrisville, every traveller on that
road must have observed a low, unsightly pond or marsh. The
water is stagnant and discolored, and looks as though it might bo
reeking with noisome and pestilential vapors. A more forbidding
object is not to be seen between Philadelphia and Trenton. Yet
from out the green slime of that vile morass, Nature sends forth
some of her loveliest children to greet the sun. I think I have
never seen lilies of such absolute purity, such almost dazzling white-
ness, as those which bloom on the bosom of this green and slimy
pool. Not more remarkable than this vegetable phenomenon is
that wonderful work of the Holy Spirit, under whose quickening
influences we sometimes see an angel-lily blooming into heavenly
purity and sweetness in the very lowest stratum of human society,
among the vilest companionship of courts and alleys reeking with
moral pestilence.
Other Subjects.
1. What I Saw this Morning, on the Way to School.
2. An Account of a Day spent in the Country by One
living in the City.
3. An Account of a Day spent in the City by One living
in the Country.
4. A Ride in the Street Car.
5. What we Did at our Picnic.
6. A Journey to the Delaware Water Gap.*
7. A Journey through the State of Pennsylvania.
8. Ascent of Mount Washington.
9. A Sail up the Hudson.
10. A Visit to a Coal-Mine.
11. An Excursion among the Virginia Springs.
12. A Fishing Excursion.
13. Our Nutting Party.
14. A Boating Excursion.
15. A May-day Party.
16. A Moonlight Walk at the Sea-side.
♦Subjects of this kind will be varied, of course, according to the experience of
the writer. The student should narrate the occurrences of some journey which he
has actually made.
CHAPTER VI.
DESCRIPTIONS.
Aftee sufficient practice in writing personal narratives, the stu-
dent should give attention to writing descriptions. In the practice
of many teachers, descriptive compositions precede narratives ; but
I doubt the propriety of such a course. Description is in itself
more difficult than narration, and it requires more matured habits
of observation and expression. To describe well is indeed a rare
attainment.
Talcing Notes.— An essential condition to success in describing is the prac-
tice of noting down on the spot the things to be described. In personal narra-
tive, we can trust in good measure to recollection. We usually remember with
sufficient vividness transactions in which we have been ourselves the actors.
But it is different in description. Here, if we wish to succeed, and to give to
others a picture which will be thoroughly true and fresh, and which will bring
up to their minds a scene exactly as it presented itself to ours, we must stand
before it, pencil in hand, and note down its features while the eye is actually on
them. This taking of notes on the spot, while in the very act of observing, is as
important to one who would be a good describer, as is out-door sketching to a
landscape painter. In both cases the picture must be worked up by subsequent
labor and art. But the materials must be gathered while the original scene is
actually before the eyes. Thus only, in either case, will the student learn to be
accurate. Thus only will his pictures acquire freshness and life. ,
Description and Narration.— Often, as in works of history and of fiction,
that which is written is partly narrative and partly descriptive. In the account
of a battle, for instance, a description of the place is essential to an understand-
ing of the transaction, and the writer who wishes to tell the story intelligently
visits the spot, if possible, and takes note, while there, of every point which is
to be included in his narrative. No man could give an intelligent account of
the battle of Gettysburg, for instance, who had not himself stood on Cemetery
Hill, and read the story with that curious panorama of hills before him, the de-
scription of which forms a necessary part of the narrative of the battle.
Example of Novelists. — Many novelists observe this rule in regard to the
localities involved in the plot of their story. Sir Walter Scott laid the scenes of
335
336 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
his stories in places with which he had been personally familiar from boyhood ;
and if in any instance he was in doubt about a single feature of the landscape
described, he verified it by actual observation. It is recorded of him that he
once rode forty or fifty miles on horseback to make sure of the correctness of one
of his descriptions.
Selection Necessary.— Another condition to success in description is to
make a judicious selection of the points to be described. Stand where we will,
the things to be seen are numberless : we cannot undertake to name even, much
less to describe, all that we see. The writer should first settle in his own mind
the object of his essay. The points selected will vary according as he writes for
information, for amusement, for a satisfying of the sense of the beautiful, and
the like. In making observations preparatory to the description, it will be found
best not to observe any particular order, at the time, but to put things down just
as the eye meets them, reserving the grouping to the final process of finishing up.
Avoid Generalities.— Another condition is that we particularize. Young
writers are apt to deal in easy generalities, to speak of trees — not of some one
tree which they know something about ; of gardens, not of that particular garden
which is before their eyes ; of landscapes in general, not of that particular land-
scape which is spread out before them. Descriptions should deal with the con-
crete, not with the abstract ; with particulars, not with generals.
Subjects.— Subjects for description exist in the greatest abundance. Every
man, woman, or child that one is acquainted with, every domestic animal,
every house, every field, every bridge or stream, may form a subject for descrip-
tion ; and the more familiar the object, the better, especially for elementary
exercises.
Describing what we have not Seen.— We are required sometimes to de-
scribe objects with which we have become acquainted by reading and study,
instead of observation. We may, for instance, be required to describe the Em-
peror Napoleon, or ancient Rome, or the Sandwich Islands, or the crater of
Vesuvius, none of which we have seen. In such cases we should observe as
nearly as possible the suggestions already made. In reading about the object,
we should make notes of the several points which seem suitable to the purpose ;
and after thus collecting the materials, we should combine them in some orderly
arrangement, as we would in describing what we have seen.
In the ordinary uses of life, description and narrative very commonly and
properly go together. But in school exercises, for the purpose of cultivating the
art of description, it is well occasionally to practise description apart from nar-
rative, to assign as the subject for an essay the description of some specific person,
place, scene, or thing.
Examples are given of both kinds of description, and of various degrees of
maturity.
Example. — Subject, Our Cat and the Rabbit.
NOTES.
Time — May 29th, afternoon.
Place — our back parlor and yard.
Mother and I were together reading.
The rabbit of a dark, mottled brown.
Eating grass— his ears — his eyes — the way he jumped.
DESCRIPTIONS. 337
The cat — his eyes and tail— crouching— afraid to attack.
What became of Bunny.
Goldy's cowardice.
Our excitement— throwing stones— no use.
(N. B.— These notes were jotted down after the adventure was over, not at
the actual time of the occurrence.)
Description by a Boy.
One afternoon in May, as mother and I were in the back parlor,
reading, we saw, all at once, in the grass-plot back of the house,
only a few feet from where we were sitting, a dear little wild
rabbit. The grass was rather high, and he was busy as a bee,
biting off the tops, which were most inviting. He seemed to be
quite particular in his fancies, picking those blades which looked
most fresh and tender. "We sat still and watched him for some
time, with the greatest curiosity, as we could see him perfectly.
After nibbling awhile, he would stop, and stand perfectly still, as
if watching against surprise.
His eyes were not, like those of the cat or dog, in the front of
his face, and looking forward, but on the sides of his head, so that
he could look right and left without stirring; in fact, they stuck
out beyond the rest of his head, so that probably he could see in
every direction without turning. This may be to enable him better
to protect himself, as he cannot fight, and his only chance of escape
is by flight.
I noticed that he had a peculiar way of sitting upon his haunches,
with his body and head erect, and his forefeet entirely free. I
could not see whether or not he used his forefeet as we do our
hands, for taking hold of the grass and other things, but I think he
did. It had that appearance. His mode of running, also, was pe-
culiar. He went by leaps, using chiefly his hind legs. His color
was different from that of the tame rabbits which I have seen,
being of a dark, mottled brown.
Our cat got sight of the rabbit, and became at once very much
excited. Mr. Goldy (that is our cat's name) was standing on the
porch, about seven feet from where Bunny was nibbling, and we
(mother and I) were looking on from the, parlor window. The
cat's eye flashed, and his tail moved slightly; he crouched as if
ready any moment to spring. The scene became very exciting.
"We expected every moment to see poor Bunny murdered in open
day, right before our eyes. But just as we were going to warn him
29 W
338 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
of his danger, he caught sight of the treacherous foe, and forthwith
suspended operations.
Then ensued a moment of awful suspense. Bunny stood perfectly
still, as if afraid that the least motion would bring on the catas-
trophe. Goldy, also, cat-like, watched and waited, in hope of sOme
more favorable moment to make the final spring. At last Bunny
could stand it no longer, and, with a wild bound, started for the
back part of the grounds. We expected of course to see Goldy
follow and seize his victim. Instead of that, he walked composedly
to the place where Bunny had been nibbling, smelled the grass and
ground a little, and then sneaked away to the kitchen. The fact
was, Mr. Goldy showed the white feather, and was about as glad to
get off as Bunny was.
This Mr. Bunny was a cunning chap. After escaping from the
yard, he went a few rods into the adjoining field, and stopped in the
midst of some high grass, where he remained, head up, perfectly
motionless. I threw ever so many stones at him, some of which
came very near hitting him, and I shouted again and again, but he
remained as still as if he had been a bush or a clump of grass; and
I have no doubt he had sense enough to know that moving about
and dodging would be the surest way of betraying his whereabouts
to his enemies. I watched him from time to time all the afternoon,
until after dark, and still he did not move.
Example, — Subject, A View from the Bridge.
Note. — The Bridge here referred to is the New Bridge over the Delaware, at
Trenton, N. J., and the time selected for the description was an afternoon in June.
Description. By a more advanced Student.
In crossing the bridge this afternoon, I saw many things that in-
terested me, some of which I shall describe. In going over, I took
the path on the north side, looking up the stream ; in returning, I
took the path on the south side, looking down the stream. I shall
follow the same order in my description.
Looking north from the bridge, the most conspicuous object is
the State Asylum for the Insane. This noble edifice, so beautiful
in its architectural proportions, has a deep background of forest-
trees, giving it an air of sweet and quiet repose. The building itself
stands on a gentle elevation, with a lawn sloping down in front ;
and both building and lawn are open to the south, and consequently
DESCRIPTIONS. 339
are full in the eye of one looking northward from the bridge, as I
did this afternoon. But behind the building and at each end of it
is an encompassing forest of living green, as if the enormous struc-
ture were actually reposing upon a mass of foliage. The effect is
extremely pleasing to the eye.
Another conspicuous object is a brown-stone dwelling-house,
standing near the river, on the east bank, and not far from the
bridge. This house, like the Asylum, is embosomed in the foliage
of large forest-trees, not so closely as to exclude a view of the
building, but just enough to give that air of softness and repose
which was remarked of the Asylum. The house is built in the
style known among architects as the Norman, with a flat roof and
a high square tower on one corner. The hard, angular character
of the building is softened to the eye by the mass of foliage in which
it seems to repose. Along the same bank, and still nearer to the
bridge, are several other new buildings, with pretty Mansard roofs.
On the western bank is a building standing back some distance from
the river, and so unusual in its shape and appearance that I could
not determine, without going nearer, whether it was a dwelling-
house or a barn.
Among the natural objects that attract the eye is a pretty island,
standing midway in the river, about two miles off, apparently, and
beautifully green on all sides down to the water's edge. The river
itself, however, is quite as pretty as any of its surroundings. At
this season of the year, particularly when swollen by recent rains,
its current is broad and full ; and there is sufficient descent at this
point to give to the water that steady, gliding motion which is
always pleasing. On the right bank, close under the bridge, was
quite a large collection of row-boats, kept there apparently for
pleasure-parties. Two or three lazy boatmen were lounging about,
as if waiting for customers. I suppose these men keep the boats
for hire. There were fifteen of these boats, all light and trim-
looking, as if made for service, but none of them gay or fanciful in
style.
When about half-way across the bridge, I noticed a fine echo on
the other side. A dog was barking, and his barks all came distinctly
repeated by the echo. The bridge does not appear to be very firmly
built, as it vibrates considerably every time a vehicle of any size
passes over it.
The bridge has not escaped entirely the assaults of the advertisers.
340 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
On one of the beams, near the middle, is a big placard with the
inscription, " Buy your Goods at Clark and Sanderson's." This is
nothing, however, to the small bridge over the canal, on the other
side. That is completely covered with advertising placards. Is it
right to have our streets, and fences, and buildings of every kind
thus turned into an advertising medium ? It seems as if the whole
face of the country were becoming one big advertising sheet.
The view from the south side of the bridge is less picturesque than
that from the north, and is proportionably more varied and exciting.
The descent of the water becomes so great as to produce several
rapids, and there are many projecting rocks, giving a very different
aspect to the stream from that which it has above the bridge. A
large part of Trenton lies in full view. Among the principal public
buildings in sight are the State-House, the First and Third Presby-
terian churches, Taylor Hall, the State-Street Methodist Church, the
Court-House, the Second Presbyterian Church, and the First Bap-
tist Church, two or three large rolling-mills, and last, but not least,
the Old Trenton Bridge. This last structure is said to be a very
solid one. It certainly has done good service. But it is about the
meanest-looking concern one can find in a day's travel.
Other Subjects.
1. A Visit to a Picture-Gallery.
2. A Description of a Kolling-Mill.
3. Sights at the Railroad Station.
4. A Description of the Girard College Buildings.
5. A Description of a Snow-Storm.
6. A Description of a Factory.
7. A Description of the United States Mint.
8. The View from the Chestnut-Street Bridge, Philadel-
phia.
9. The View from the Top of the State-House.
10. A Description of Independence Hall.
CHAPTER VII.
MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.
In the exercises which have been given thus far, the subjects
have involved, 1. Objects Simply ; 2. Transactions ; 3. Qual-
ities ; 4. Imaginary Subjects ; 5. Personal Narratives ; 6. De-
scriptions.
When pupils are once thoroughly familiar with the mental
steps implied in these six classes of composition, they may
proceed to write upon any theme of which they have a com-
petent knowledge.
The Object. — The object of the exercise, it should be remembered,
is not to add to the pupil's knowledge, or even to test it, but simply
to train him in the art of hunting up and setting in order the
thoughts he may have on any subject, and in expressing those
thoughts with rhetorical propriety. Invention in any other sense,
in the sense at least of investigation for the purpose of adding to
one's knowledge and scholarship, belongs, not to Khetoric, but to
general education.
Historical Narrations, though often recommended for introductory
exercises, are unsuitable for that purpose. They are, of all subjects,
the ones least conducive to the development of the power of Inven-
tion. So far from making the pupil inventive, they almost inevitably
beget in him the habit of copying. Writing out from recollection
what one has read of any historical incident may be a good exercise
for the memory, but it is a very poor one for teaching composition.
Writing critiques upon historical characters or events is an excel-
lent exercise for advanced scholars, who are already versed in the
29 * 341
342
COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
art of composition, and well read in the history which they under-
take to criticise. But such topics should never be undertaken by
beginners.
No examples are needed under this head. Instead of examples, a full list of
subjects is given, which will aid the teacher in assigning, and the student in
selecting, topics for compositions.
Miscellaneous Subjects.
1. Hard for an Empty Box to
Stand Upright ; or, the Temp-
tations of Poverty.
2. Happiness more in Pursuit than
in Possession.
3. A Rolling Stone Gathers no
Moss.
4. Should the Study of Latin be
Optional in an Institution Pro-
fessing to give a Liberal Edu-
cation ?
5. How far should the Study of
Mathematics go in a General
Course of Study for Young
Ladies ?
6. Refinement a National Benefit.
7. The Invention of the Tele-
graph.
8. Importance of a Habit of Clean-
liness.
9. It takes Two to Quarrel.
10. How far should a Class be
Punished for an Offence com-
mitted by one of its Members,
which cannot be found out ?
11. Advantages and Disadvan-
tages of Marking Recitations.
12. Motives to Study.
13. It is Easier to be Good than
to Seem Good.
14. Familiarity Breeds Contempt.
15. The Effect of Associating with
those Better than Ourselves.
16. A Soft Answer Turneth away
Wrath.
17. Ought the two Sexes to be
Educated Together ?
18. Present Tendencies of Peri-
odical Literature.
19. The Influence of Pictorial Il-
lustrations on Literary Taste.
20. Necessity the Mother of In-
vention.
21. Whitewash — Morally Con-
sidered.
22. Duties of Scholars to Teach-
ers.
23. The Pleasure of Receiving
Letters.
24. The Character and Writings
of Mrs. Sigourney.
25. Disadvantages and Incon-
veniences of Travelling.
26. Importance of the Habit of
Meditation.
27. Habits of Neatness.
28. The Causes and Evils of Fam-
ily Quarrels.
29. Benefits and Proper Methods
of Reading.
30. Importance of forming Hab-
its of Close Observation.
MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.
343
31. Habits of Economy.
32. How Pride Displays Itself.
33. Duties to Schoolmates.
34. A Good Heart Necessary to
Enjoy the Beauties of Nature.
35. Power of Music.
36. Respect to Superiors.
37. Affability to Inferiors.
38. Importance of Perseverance.
39. Never too Old to Learn.
40. Does Climate Affect the Char-
acter of People ?
41. A Sail up the Hudson.
42. A Journey from New York
to San Francisco.
43. Innocent Amusements.
44. Skating.
45. The Trials of a Scholar.
46. A Mother's Influence.
47. The Necessity of being Able
to Say No.
48. Dreams.
49. The Influence of Fashion.
50. Is it Expedient to Wear
Mourning Apparel?
51. Over- Anxiety.
52. Are Women more given to
Revenge than Men ?
53. Was it Right to Execute Ma-
jor Andre ?
54. Is a Lie Ever Justifiable?
55. Rome was not Built in a Day.
56. Is Childhood the Happiest
Period of Life?
57. Early Rising.
58. A New Broom Sweeps Clean.
59. Was the Fate of Sir Walter
Raleigh Deserved ?
60. On Parental Indulgence.
61. Influence of Cromwell.
62. Chaucer and His Age.
63. Aristocracy of Wealth.
64. The Invention of the Cotton
Gin.
65. The Art of Pleasing.
66. Habits of the Dog.
67. Good Effects of Ridicule.
68. Description of a Valley.
69. Habits of Courtesy.
70. Taste for Simple Pleasures.
71. The Education of the Senses.
72. Street Beggary.
73. Is there Reason to Suppose
that other Planets are Inhab-
ited?
74. On the Multiplication of
Books.
75. Comparative Advantages of
City and Country Life.
76. The "Fast "Man.
77. Is Labor a Blessing or a
' Curse?
78. Should the Truth Always be
Spoken ?
79. One has only to Die to be
Praised.
80. It is Hard to Swim Against
the Stream.
81. Love Begins at Home.
82. One Learns by Failing.
83. A Ride Across the Prairies.
84. Opening of the Mail.
85. The Ever-Varying Beauty of
the Clouds.
86. The Occupations of the
Farmer.
87. Live Within your Means.
88. No Pains, no Gains.
89. Poor Workmen Find Fault
with their Tools.
344
COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
90. Nothing Venture, Nothing
Have.
91. One Good Turn Deserves An-
other.
92. Silence Gives Consent.
93. It Never Rains but it Pours.
94. Penny Wise and Pound Fool-
ish.
95. Look Before You Leap.
96. Out of Debt, Out of Danger.
97. Short Settlements Make Long
Friends.
98. The Burnt Child Dreads the
Fire.
99. A Bird in the Hand is Worth
Two in the Bush.
100. The Sweetest Wine makes
the Sourest Vinegar.
101. Where there 's a Will there 's
a Way.
102. Cut your Coat According to
your Cloth.
103. Every Man is the Architect
of his own Fortune.
104. No Place Like Home.
105. Self-Praise no Commenda-
tion.
106. A Good Name is Better Than
Riches.
107. Example is More Powerful
than Precept.
108. Religion Tends to Make One
Cheerful.
109. Be Sure your Sin will Find
you Out.
110. Avarice; or, the More we
Have, the More we Want.
111. The Folly of Contending
about Trifles.
112. Busy-bodies.
113. An Argument Against the
Use of Profane Language.
1 14. The Duty of Confessing One's
Faults.
115. Importance of Governing
One's Temper.
116. The Injurious Influence of
Indulging in Slang.
117. The Motives which Lead to
Flattery.
118. Rural Happiness.
119. Moonlight at Sea.
120. Curiosity.
121. The Learned Professions.
122. Distribution of Time.
123. Want and Plenty.
124. Intellectual Discipline.
125. Bad Effects of Ridicule.
126. Duties of Hospitality.
127. The Study of the French
Language.
128. Delicacy of Feeling.
129. Taste for the Cultivation of
Flowers.
130. The Effects of Learning on
the Countenance.
131. The Difference between
Beauty and Fashion.
132. The Choice of a Profession.
133. Correspondence between
True Politeness and Religion.
134. Health.
135. The Rainbow.
136. Evils of Public Life.
137. Modesty a Sign of Merit.
138. Art of Pleasing.
139. Order and Confusion.
140. Moral Effects of Painting
and Sculpture.
141. Luxury.
MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.
345
142. The Study of Natural His-
tory.
143. The Butterfly and its
Changes.
144. Local Associations.
145. Parsimony and Prodigality.
146. The Seasons.
147. Harmony of Nature.
148. An Evening Walk.
149. A Strong Will and a Strong
Won't.
150. A Description of an Evening
Sunset.
151. The Bulls and Bears of Wall
Street.
152. The Effect of the Purchase
of Alaska.
153. Railroad Corporations.
154. The Uses of Ice.
155. Excess in Novel-Reading.
156. Fiction as a Means of Incul-
cating Religious Truth.
157. A Visit to the Cave of ^Eolus.
158. Advantages of Linguistic
Studies.
159. Advantages of Mathematical
Studies.
160. The Study of History.
161. Hebrew Poetry.
162. What Kind of Popular
Amusements are Desirable?
163. Modes of Burial.
164. A Visit to Greenwood Cem-
etery (Laurel Hill, Mount Au-
burn, Hollywood, etc.).
165. Should Children in Sunday-
School be Organized into Tem-
perance Societies?
166. Effects of War on National
Character.
167. Epitaphs.
168. How Far is it Right for One
Nation to Interfere in the Af-
fairs of Another?
169. A Ride Across the Atlantic
on a Cloud.
170. Should norse-Racing be Al-
lowed at Agricultural Fairs ?
171. What I Saw in a Balloon-
Ride.
172. Characteristics of the Com-
mon House-Fly.
173. The Good Old Times.
174. Methods of Improving the
Memory.
175. Topics for Conversation at a
Morning Call.
176. Attention to Dress.
177. The Personal and Domestic
Character of Washington Ir-
ving.
178. Negro Minstrelsy as a Pop-
ular Amusement.
179. Wedding Presents.
180. John Chinaman.
181. The Schoolmaster Abroad.
182. Effect of Natural Scenery
on National Character.
183. Influence of National Prov-
erbs.
184. Effect of the Crusades.
185. Does the Use of Tobacco
Lead to the Use of Intoxicating
Drinks?
186. It Might Have Been.
187. The Open Polar Sea.
188. A Uniform System of
Coins, Weights, and Measures,
for All Nations.
189. Cobwebs.
346
COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
190. International Art Exhibi-
tions.
191. Old Coins — What they Tell
Us.
192. Different Kinds of Car-
pets.
193. Learning to Spell.
194. Spinning Street-Yarn.
195. Every American Boy Ex-
pects to be President.
196. Are Men or Women Most
Given to Gossiping?
197. Girls' Amusements and
Boys' Amusements Contrasted.
198. My Mother's Apron-String.
199. Agreeing to Differ.
200. Public and Private Schools
— Advantages and Disadvan-
tages of each.
201. Our Father Who art in
Heaven.
202. I Told You So.
203. House-Cleaning.
204. People who are Always Un-
fortunate.
205. The Difference Between
Pride and Vanity.
206. Gossiping.
207. A Ride on an Iceberg.
208. Theory and Practice.
209. An Encounter with a Bur-
glar.
210. My Flower-Garden.
211. Letter- Writing.
212. Restless People.
213. Nursing Sorrow.
214. The Dress is not the Man.
215. Silent Influence.
216. The History of a Pin.
217. A Voyage to the Mediterra-
218. Visit to a Lunatic Asylum.
219. Firmness and Obstinacy.
220. The Honey-Bee.
221. Love of Ease.
222. Moral Courage.
223. The Man of Talent and the
Man of Genius.
224. A Good Listener.
225. A Good Talker.
226. The Grace of Giving.
227. The Grace of Receiving.
228. Sketch of Aaron Burr.
229. The Market.
230. Love of Shopping.
231. Attending Auctions.
232. Is the Pen Mightier than
the Sword ?
233. Influence of Steam.
234. The Bullet and the Ballot.
235. The Effect on the Household
of having Pictures and Works
of Art in the House.
236. Description of a Country
Church.
237. Does Poverty or Riches De-
velop the Character best ?
238. Do not Visit your Neighbor
so often that he shall say, " It
is Enough."
CORRECTING COMPOSITIONS.
The labor of criticising and correcting Compositions, particularly in large
schools, is very great; yet without such criticism and correction much of the
value of the exercise is lost. The author, in his own experience in this matter,
has found his labors materially lessened by the use of certain abbreviations and
arbitrary symbols. General criticisms, when necessary, are written out in full
at the bottom of the Composition. But criticisms of particular words or sentences
are made on the margin. The abbreviations for marking these mistakes are the
following :
sp.
mistake in Spelling.
tt.
Tautology.
pn.
mistake in Punctuation.
un
Sentence Unfinished.
cp.
mistake in regard to Capitals.
il.
Illegible.
gr.
mistake in Grammar.
tr.
Transpose.
di.
mistake in Diction.
I
neglect of Paragraphing.
fe
mistake in Figure.
A
something left out.
pr.
mistake in use of Pronoun.
0
no mistake observed.
en.
mistake in Construction.
!
positive merit worthy of note.
sq.
Squinting Construction.
For expressing general estimates of the character of the piece, the following
symbols are sometimes placed at the end :
-f improvement on previous Composition.
— a falling off.
X general excellence.
-i- general carelessness.
y originality and research.
Occasionally a passage contains something, meritorious or otherwise, which
can best be explained orally. In such cases, write on the margin
cl. Call for explanation.
The Compositions should be written legibly, in ink, with a margin for criti-
cisms, and should not be folded ; and the name of the writer should be placed at
the top of the first page.
In marking a Composition, an estimate should first be made of its general
merits in reference to subject-matter, style, and method of treatment. From the
mark thus given, a deduction should be made for each mistake noted on the
margin.
The abbreviation on the margin should be made directly opposite the place
where each mistake occurs, but there should be no mark on the word itself that
is wrong. It should be left to the ingenuity of the scholar to find out where the
mistake lies, and to make the correction himself. For each correction thus
made, a suitable allowance should be made in the final adjustment of the mark
for the Composition. This stimulates inquiry, and makes the criticisms doubly
valuable.
347
%4
348 PR 0 OF-READING.
AN EXAMPLE OF A PROOF-SHEET
SHOWING THE MANNER IN WHICH ERRORS OF THE PRESS ARE MARKED FOB COR-
RECTION.
* / Though several differing opinions exist as to
/ / * O)
the individual by wwom the art of printing was /
first discovered; yet all authorities concur in
admitting Peter Schoeffer to be the person 3
who invented cast metal types, having learned
^7 the art-ef- of cutting the letters from the Gut-
c;/ tenbergs/ he is also supposed to have been
*$ the first whoengraved on copper plates. The7/-/
'following testimony is preseved in the family, 8 /
»s_^ by Jo. Fred. Faustus, of Aschaffenburg :
10D >' Peter Schoeffer, of Gernsheim, perceiving J^ -^
n\J/ his master Fausts design, and being himself *** i&<yu
12fa fdesirous\ardentl^) to improve the art, found
out (by the good providence of God) tho
13
method of cutting (ineidendi) the characters j££
in a matrix, that the letters might easily be
8// singly cast I instead of bieng cut He pri- u^'/
li\ vately cut matrices] for the whole alphabet: ais
Faust was so pleased with the contrivary
/that he promised Peter to give him hjs^only
ic /daughter Christina in marriage a/promise 3 "& *
/which he soon after performed-A^ 18
M cm 1 0*ut there were many dijffifculties at first n(> |)
with these letters, as there had been before * 0£o??l.
with* wooden ones, tj*e metal being too soft3 ^a/9
+
to support the fopce of the impression: but 9^7
this defect was soon remedied, by mixing
> x * * 14
a substance with the metal which sufficiently ^.
hardened it/
uin<J waen, ne ^dnowecJ /ti* <ma*&i me
PROOF-READING. 349
EXPLANATIONS OP THE CORRECTIONS.
Note. — The numbers refer to the figures in the margin.
1. Wrong Letters or Words. — A wrong letter in a word is noted by drawing
a short slant line through it, as here through the c in severel, making a similar slant
line in the margin, and writing to the left of it the correct letter. A whole word, if
wrong, is corrected by drawing a line across it, and writing the correct word in the
margin opposite.
2. Letters Upside-down.— A letter that is upside-down is noted by drawing a
slant line through it, and making in the margin the mark here given.
3. Caps, Small Caps, and Italics.— If letters or words are to be altered from
one character to another, it is noted by drawing parallel lines below the letters or words
so to be altered ; namely, three lines for Capitals, two lines for Small Capitals, and one
line for Italics ; and by writing in the margin the word Caps, Sm. Caps, or Italics.
4. Deleting. — When a word or a letter is to be taken out, make a slant line
through it, and place in the margin the mark here given, which is the old way of
writing the letter d, and stands for the Latin dele, destroy.
5. Changing Punctuation.— A point is to be corrected in the same manner as
a letter (No. 1). If the point to be inserted is a period, it should be enclosed in a
circle. (See example at the bottom of the page.)
6. Space Omitted. — If a space is omitted between two words or letters, put a
caret under the place where the space ought to be, and put in the margin the char-
acter here given.
7. Hyphen Omitted. — If a hyphen has been omitted, put a caret under the
place, and write the hyphen in the margin between two slant lines.
8. Letters Omitted. — If a letter has been omitted, put a caret under the place,
and put in the margin a slant line with the letter to the left of it.
9. Closing Up. — If a line is too widely spaced, or letters are separated that
should be joined, the letters that are to be brought together should be connected by
a curved mark, either above or below, or both, and a corresponding mark should be
placed in the margin.
10. New Paragraph. — When a new paragraph is required, put a caret at the
place where the new paragraph should begin, and a quadrangle in the margin.
11. Apostrophe, etc. — When the apostrophe, inverted commas, the star and
other references, or letters and figures of any kind that go over the line, have been
omitted, put a caret at the place, and write the omitted apostrophe or other character
in the margin, in the bosom of an angle made for the purpose, and opening upwards.
12. Transposing. — When a word is to be transposed, draw a line round it and
carry the line over to the place where the word is to be put, writing in the margin tr.
(transpose). If two or three letters in a word are misplaced, draw a line under them,
and write them correctly in the margin. If several words are misplaced, draw a line
under them all, write over them the figures 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., to show the order in which
they should stand, and put tr. in the margin.
13. Stet.— When by mistake a word has been marked to be struck out, and you wish
it to stand, put a row of dots under it, and the word stet (let it stand) in the margin.
14. Space Projecting.— When a space (a thin slip of metal used for spacing)
projects, draw a line under it and the corresponding mark in the margin.
15. Words Out. — When several words have been left out, write them at the
foot of the page, and draw a line from them to the place where they should be in-
serted. If the matter omitted is too much to be thus written at the foot of the page,
write on the margin the words, Out, see copy, and write likewise on the margin of the
copy the word Out, and enclose the omitted words in brackets.
16. L,etters Standing Crooked. — The marks here given show the mode. of
noting this defect.
17. Wrong Fount. — When a letter of a different fount has been inserted, mark
it with a slant line, and write w.f. (wrong fount) in the margin.
18. No Paragraph. — When a paragraph has been made where none was in-
tended, draw a lino from the broken-oft* matter to the next paragraph, and write in
the margin No f .
19. Left Out.— When a word has been left out, make a caret at the place, and
write the word in the margin.
20. Faulty Letter.— When a letter is faulty, draw a cross under it, and make a
small cross in the margin.
30
350 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
AN EXAMPLE OP A PROOF-SHEET
CORRECTED.
Though several differing opinions exist as to
the individual by whom the art of printing was
first discovered ; yet all authorities concur in
admitting PETER SCHOEFFER to be the
person who invented cast metal types, having
learned the art of cutting the letters from the
Guttenbergs : he is also supposed to have been
the first who engraved on copper-plates. The
following testimony is preserved in the family,
by Jo. Fred. Faustus, of Aschaffenburg :
' Peter Schoeffek, of Gernsheim, perceiv-
ing his master Faust's design, and being him-
self ardently desirous to improve the art, found
out (by the good providence of God) the
method of cutting (incidendi) the characters in
a matrix, that the letters might easily be singly
cast, instead of being cut. He privately cut
matrices for the whole alphabet : and when he
showed his master the letters cast from these
matrices, Faust was so pleased with the con-
trivance, that he promised Peter to give him
his only daughter Christina in marriage, a
promise which he soon after performed. But
there were as many difficulties at first with
these letters, as there had been before with
wooden ones, the metal being too soft to sup-
port the force of the impression : but this defect
was soon remedied, by mixing the metal with a
substance which sufficiently hardened it.'
CHAPTER IX.
THE STUDY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.
Rhetoric is, from its very nature, so closely connected with the
study of Language, that I shall make no apology for appending to
the present treatise some remarks upon the English Language, giv-
ing a general outline of its origin, history, affiliations, and charac-
ter, and some suggestions as to the manner in which its study and
culture are to be pursued. These remarks are not intended as a
part of the text, to be studied in the ordinary routine of the class-
room, but as a matter of information for those students who may
not have access to the numerous and extended volumes which are
devoted to this particular subject.
Linguistics is gradually acquiring the consistency of a science.
If not so definite as mathematics and other pure sciences, it has yet
made good its claim to be regarded as a science, both by the char-
acter of its methods and the wide generalizations which it has
reached. Languages have long, almost always indeed, been a sub-
ject of study. But one may be an accomplished linguist, reading
and speaking many tongues, without being an adept in the science
of language. This science, in its more recent and exact form, differs
perceptibly even from philology. The material, or subject-matter
of the science, is not one language, or any one class of languages,
ancient or modern, living or dead, but language itself, in its entirety.
Its methods are to observe, arrange, and classify all the forms of
speech that are, or ever have been, in use, and from them to deduce
the necessary laws of speech for a race constituted as the human
race is. It aims to show how language originated, that is, to show
why we speak at all, and why we speak as we do ; to show what is
the inner life of language, and how its changes are effected ; to trace
351
352 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
the relations between language and thought; and, finally, as the
geologist is able from existing phenomena to read the history of the
globe far back anterior to human records, so from the existing
forms of speech to travel back into the prehistoric annals of the
race, and to trace the doings and the character of races of whom
there is no other record.
The science of language, as thus understood, is the youngest of
the sciences, younger even than geology, being yet hardly half a
century old. Among its cultivators are two particularly noticeable
by those of the English-speaking race, both as being on the fore-
most wave of the advancing science, and as using our language in
their investigations, and being, therefore, the more accessible to
English and American students. These are Professor Max Miiller,
of the University of Oxford, and Professor Whitney, of Yale Col-
lege. Professor Whitney's book,1 although it has been but a short
time before the public, has already placed its author in a position
of most honorable distinction before the eyes of his countrymen.
If not so brilliant and fascinating in style as are the volumes of
Max Miiller,2 the work is equally learned, and is decidedly more
sober and trustworthy in its conclusions.
The recent contributions to the study of English by Professor
Marsh,3 Professor Scheie de Vere,4 Richard Grant White,5 and
Edward S. Gould,6 of this country, and by Latham,7 Trench,8 Al-
ford,9 and Moon,10 in England, as well as the elaborate reviews
which have appeared in nearly all the leading periodicals of both
countries, show that the subject has awakened public attention.
All the works referred to have been received with marked favor,
and they have done much towards making the genius and resources
of our language better understood by those who use it. But the
works of Professor Miiller and Professor Whitney, while necessa-
rily dealing largely with English, and while of great interest and
1. Language and the Study of Language. By William Dwight Whitney, Professor
of Sanskrit in Yale College. 8vo.
2. Science of Language, 2 vols. ; and Chips from a German Workshop, 2 vols.
3. The Origin and History of the English Language. 1 vol., 8vo. Lectures on the
English Language. By George P. Marsh. 1 vol., 8vo.
4. Studies in English. By M. Scheie de Vere. 1 vol., 8vo.
5. Words and Their Uses. By Richard Grant White.
6. Good English. By Edward S. Gould. 1 vol., 12mo.
7. The English Language. By R. G. Latham.
8. English, Past and Present. By Richard Chevenix Trench.
The Study of Words. By Richard Chevenix Trench.
9. The Queen's English. By Henry Alford, Dean of Canterbury.
10. The Dean's English. By G. Washington Moon.
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 353
value to the mere student of English, yet take a much wider range
than those of the other writers who have been named. The dif-
ference between them is like the difference between a work on
general geology and a work on trilobites or on the carboniferous
era.
Having referred thus to the principal sources of information on
this subject which are accessible to the English student, I proceed
to give a brief outline of the accepted theory in regard to the origin
and character of the English language, and of its relation to the
other languages of the earth.
In doing this, it will be necessary first to take the reader to
regions apparently remote from the topic named. But in many
things a comprehensive survey of a whole subject is the shortest
way of getting at a precise knowledge of a particular division of it.
Some idea of the general grouping of the languages of the earth is
necessary to a proper understanding of the place which English
holds, both in history and in general philology. This is the more
necessary, because the whole science of language has been revolu-
tionized, or rather it has been created, in times within the memory
of persons still living. The old theory, which until lately nobody
ever questioned, was, that the Hebrew was the original language of
the earth, and that all other languages in some way sprung from it.
"All antiquity," says Jerome, "affirms that Hebrew, in which the
Old Testament is written, was the beginning of all speech." "When,
therefore, attempts began to be made at a scientific classification
of languages, the problem which presented itself to scholars was,
" Hebrew, being undoubtedly the mother of all languages, how can
we explain the process by which it became split into so many
dialects, and how can we trace back the words in all the various
languages of the world to their original Hebrew roots? The
amount of learning and ingenuity bestowed upon the solution of
this problem was prodigious, and has well been compared to that
bestowed by the earlier astronomers in undertaking to explain the
movement of the heavenly bodies on the assumption that the earth
was the centre of the universe. The foundations of the old theory
of language began to be shaken as far back as the time of Leibnitz,
in 1710, and primarily by Leibnitz himself. But no great and cer-
tain advance was made in the way of establishing a true theory,
until near the close of the last century. The steps which then led
to the discovery and the establishment of the science of language,
30* X
354 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
as now understood, originated in undertakings not by any means
scientific in their aim.
The English East India Company, in the government of their
Indian empire, have always had in their employ a number of emi-
nent jurists, to act as judges in the civil administration. These
judges early found that the jurisprudence which they were called
upon to administer was interwoven with a vast body of national
traditions of unknown, but certainly most venerable antiquity, and
that to interpret these traditions rightly, it would be necessary to
become acquainted with the old original language, in which they
were contained. The English and American missionaries in that
country made a similar discovery. The people of India were found
to be in this respect very much in the condition of the nations
of Southern Europe, which have survived the disintegration of the
Eoman Empire. As France, Spain, and Italy look to ancient Rome
for the basis both of their several languages and their system of
jurisprudence, so in modern India many nations and tribes were
found with languages distinct indeed, but closely affiliated, and
having a common basis in a tongue which ceased to be spoken more
than two thousand years ago. This dead language, existing in India
as the Latin does among the nations of Southern Europe, is known
by the name of the Sanscrit.
The jurists and civilians of the East India Company found, that
in order to acquire the necessary authority as interpreters of Indian
law, they must acquaint themselves with the Sanscrit language.
The missionaries were obliged to study it for a like reason. It was
the only way in which they could obtain a hearing as instructors
of the people, or in which they could, satisfactorily to themselves,
explain and confute the system of theology and philosophy on which
the vast superstructure of Indian religion was based. These two
classes of Europeans, therefore, addressed themselves with zeal to
the study of this ancient tongue. Their labors in this line first took
shape in the formation of the Asiatic Society at Calcutta, in 1784,
from which event, indeed, the history of Sanscrit Philology as a
European study may be dated. As the results of their studies were
transmitted from timo to time to the learned of Western Europe, it
became gradually apparent that the facts disclosed were likely to
have an important bearing upon the entire science of philology. A
surprising coincidence, for instance, was found between this ancient
language at the foot of the Himalayas, which had been a dead
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 355
language for more than two thousand years, and the languages of
"Western Europe. More surprising still, this language was found
even more like to the Latin and Greek. This coincidence included
not only a vast number of words of like meaning, but most wonder-
ful similarities in declensions, conjugations, and syntax. Gram-
matical forms and constructions in Latin and Greek, which had
become anomalous and unexplainable before the time of Julius
Caesar and the grammarians of Alexandria, were found to be ex-
plained by corresponding forms in Sanscrit, where they existed in
a state less impaired, or more fully developed.
Such results as these necessarily led to a careful re-examination
of the whole theory of the affiliation of languages. It would not
comport with the object of the present article to enter into a history
of the investigations and discussions which followed, nor to state
the discrepancies of opinion which still exist among philologists, as
to the general classification and the geographical distribution of the
languages of the earth. The examination of the subject has led,
however, to some well-ascertained results, in regard to which the
learned are pretty much agreed. All the leading languages, from
the Himalaya Mountains in Asia, on the east, to the Atlantic shore
of Europe, on the west, are found to have numerous affinities and
points of resemblance too strong to be accounted for in any other
way than by supposing an historical and ethnical connection. The
ethnographical theory, by which these extraordinary analogies and
identities are explained, we shall now proceed to state in the briefest
manner possible. It will be understood to be the merest outline.
The principal nations embraced in the immense space of longitude
that has been named, are supposed to have all sprung originally
from the same central hive in Asia, the precise location of which it
is not necessary to the theory either to establish or assume, and to
have proceeded thence, in very early times, in successive swarms,
to the several countries where they are found within the historic
periods. These tides of population are supposed to have followed
each other at distant intervals, and to have proceeded, as migratory
nomads usually do, in the direction of their original impulse, until
the impulse was spent, or until it met with some obstacle sufficient
to arrest its further progress. The earliest wave rolling westwardly
would necessarily be arrested by the Atlantic, and would eventually
become stationary in the regions along the coast, and in the adjacent
islands. The next succeeding wave in the same direction would be
356 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
compelled to pause on reaching the range of countries occupied by
its predecessor. The earliest easterly wave seems to have been
arrested by the formidable obstacle presented by the Himalaya
Mountains, and to have settled at its feet among the plains of Ilin-
dostan. So on with the several emigrations, east and west, and
more or less remote, until we imagine the whole area occupied be-
tween our two extreme points.
Taking this general idea, which is admitted to be in the main
purely theoretical, we find the following distinct groups of lan-
guages, marked off and yet connected by well-defined characters,
and by well-known and indisputable facts.
I. The Indio, or the languages of India. The ancient original
language of India is the Sanscrit. It ceased to be a spoken lan-
guage at least 300 B. 0. Its earliest form is to be found in the
Vedas, the most ancient of the sacred books of the Hindoos. Be-
tween the Sanscrit and the present living languages of India, are
two successive stages, or dialects (both however dead), namely, the
Pali, containing sacred books less ancient than the Vedas ; and the
Prakrit, containing various remains, both literary and religious, and
approaching to more modern times. The chief modern dialects
sprung from the above, but largely mixed with the languages of the
successive conquerors of the country, are such as the Hindi, Hindo-
stani, Bengali, Mahratti, etc.
II. The Iranio, the language of Iran, or Persia. The ancient
language of the Zoroasters, or Fire-worshippers, the inhabitants of
Persia, which was originally called Iran, is the Zend. Its earliest
form is in the Zend-Avesta, the most ancient of the sacred books
of the Persians. Two stages of this also are found, the Pehlevi,
some centuries after the Christian era, and the Parsi, or old Persian,
about 1000 A. D. The chief living representatives of the Zend are
the Persian and the Armenian.
III. The Celtic. The tribes found by the Romans in Spain, Gaul,
Britain, and Ireland, and in the smaller islands along the Atlantic
coast, had certain remarkable points of coincidence, showing them
all to belong to the same race. They are called Kelts or Celts, and
they have been divided into two branches, the Cymbric and the
Gaelic. From the Cymbric branch are derived the Welsh (the
lineal descendants of the old Britons), the Cornish (inhabiting
Cornwall), and the Armorican, in the province of Brittany or
Armorica on the coast of France. From the Gaelic branch came
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 357
the Erse or Irish, the Highland Scotch, and the Manx on the Isle
of Man.
IV. The Italic. With the ancient language of this family, the
Latin, we are all familiar. The Roman power and civilization car-
ried their language into all those provinces which were thoroughly
subdued. The chief modern Latin languages, or Romance languages,
as they are generally called, are six, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese,
French, Wallachian (spoken in Wallachia, Moldavia, and parts of
Hungary, Transylvania, and Bessarabia), and the Romanese (spoken
among the Grisons of Switzerland).
V. The Hellenic. This is represented by the ancient Greek, the
modern Greek usually called Romaic, and perhaps the Albanian.
VI. The Teutonic. The oldest of the languages belonging to this
class is the Gothic. It became extinct in the ninth century. Ulfilas,
a bishop of the Mceso-Goths, about A. D. 350, translated the whole
of the Scriptures, except Kings, into the Gothic. Of this transla-
tion a considerable portion of the New Testament and a small por-
tion of the Old, have survived, and constitute a most important relic
of this ancient tongue. The modern Teutonic languages may be
divided into two distinct groups, the Scandinavian and the Ger-
manic. The Scandinavian includes the tribes north of the Baltic,
and is represented by the Danish, the Swedish, the Norwegian, and
the Icelandic. The Germanic includes the tribes in Central Europe
south of the Baltic, and is subdivided into two branches, the High
German and the Low German. From this latter has sprung the
Hollandish or Dutch, and the Anglo-Saxon, the parent of English.
It has been conjectured that the Italic and Hellenic races entered
Europe south of the Euxine, following the coast of the Mediterra-
nean. In like manner the Teutonic tribes are supposed to have
passed north of the Euxine, and in the course of their wanderings
westerly to have become gradually separated into two streams, part
verging north, to and beyond the Baltic, forming the Scandinavian
nations, and part going more centrally, pressing upon the Romans
on the south, and upon the Celtic nations on the west. This, at all
events, is the position in which we find them in the times of Livy,
Caesar, and Tacitus.
VII. Slavonic. The last of the great waves of population that
we shall notice, the last perhaps in point of time in its western
exodus, is the Slavonic. It is found in the northeastern parts of
Europe and the conterminous regions of Asia, pressing westerly upon
358 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
the Germanic and Scandinavian peoples, and southerly upon the
Graaco-Roman. The languages of this group are very numerous.
The principal are the Russian, Bulgarian, Illyrian, Polish, Bohemian,
Lusatian, Lettish, Lithuanian, and old Prussian.
The seven groups of languages, that have been thus briefly de-
scribed, form one of several great Families of Languages into which
the numerous varieties of human speech have been divided. This
family has been variously named. It has been called the Japhetic,
because the nations included in it are supposed to have descended
from Japhet, one of the sons of Noah. Another name is the Indo-
European, which is a purely geographical name, and has been given
purposely to avoid mixing up the philological question with the
ethnical one. Of the linguistic affinities, there is no doubt. The
ethnical connection has not been so clearly established. Still an-
other name has been given to the family, and has been much insisted
on by those eminent scholars who have pushed their inquiries into
the subject farthest. This name is the Aryan. It is so named from
an ancient country in Central Asia, called Arya in the Sanscrit
books, and known by this title among the Greeks and Romans, and
supposed to be the starting-point from which these various nations
migrated.
Besides this family, there are two or three others, which we need
not describe, as they are not connected, except in a most remote
degree, with our present subject. One of these is the Shemitic
family, so called because the nations embraced in it are descended
from Shem, the oldest son of Noah. The principal languages in-
cluded in this family are the Hebrew, Samaritan, Syriac, Chaldee,
Arabic, and Ethiopic. The other families of languages are not as
yet sufficiently defined, and therefore need not be named in this
extremely cursory review.
The English language, it will be seen, bears intimate relations to
two of the groups of the great Indo-European or Aryan family,
namely, the Teutonic and the Latin. More than nine-tenths of
English words are derived from one or the other of these sources.
At the same time, there are numerous words in English that cannot
be claimed as being exclusively either Teutonic or Latin, but are
common to both sources. Some words, indeed, are found running
through all the seven groups of the Indo-European family, showing
that they existed before the great dispersion. A few words are
found even common both to the Indo-European and tho Shemitic
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 359
families, bearing in this fact a history that carries us back to the
ark itself.
It would be impossible, in such a review as this, to give the induc-
tion of particulars that are proper in the way of illustration even,
much less of proof, of these generalizations. A very few familiar
examples will be quoted.
THREE.
1. Sans.: tri.
2. Zend: thri.
3. Celt. : Erse, tri ; Welsh, tri.
4. Ital. : Lat., tres, tria ; Fr., trois ; It., tree ; Sp., tre.
5. Hell. : Gr., rpeig, rpia.
6. Tent.: Goth., thri; Ger., drei ; Sw., tre; Dan., tre; Sax.,
threo thri; Eng., three.
7. Slav. : Russ., tri ; Let., tri.
SEVEN.
1. Sans. : saptan.
2. Zend: haptan ; Per., heft.
3. Celt. : Welsh, saith.
4. Ital.: Lat., septem; It., sette ; Sp., siete ; Fr., sept.
5. Hell. : Gr. eirra.
6. Teut. : Goth., sibun; Ger., sieben ; Du., zeeven; Dan., syv;
Sax., 8eofen ; Eng., seven.
7. Slav.: Rus., sent; Let., septyni.
FATHEB.
1. Sans. : pitri.
2. Zend: paitar ; Per., pader.
3. Celt.: Ers., athair ; (initial consonant elided).
4. Ital.: Lat., pater; It., padre; Sp., padre ; Fr. plre.
5. Hell. : Gr. izarrip.
6. Teut.: Goth., mtar; Ger., mter; Dm. fader ; Dan. fader; Sw.,
fader; Sax., faeder. ; Eng., father.
7. Slav, (doubtful).
MOTHER.
1. Sans. : matri.
2. Zend: Per., mader.
3. Celt. : Ers., mathair.
4. Ital.: Lat., mater ; It., madre; Sp., madre; Fr., war*.
360 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
5. Hell. : Gr., fiyrtjp.
6. Teut. : Ger., mutter; Du., moeder; Sw., rnoder; Dan., moder;
Sax., moder ; Eng., mother.
7. Slav. : Rus., mat.
TO BEAR.
1. Sans.: bri, bhar-adi.
2. Zend: bairan; Pers., ber.
3. Celt. : Ers., bear-adh.
4. Ital. : Lat., /ew, pario, porto ; It., portare; Sp., portar ; Fr.,
porter.
5. Hell. : Gr. 0ep«, (j>opea) papa? (a thing borne, a burden), fiapvc.
6. Teut.: Goth., bairan; Ger., fiihren; Du., beuren; Sw., foera;
Dan., ftflgre; Sax., bairan; Eng. foar.
7. Slav. : Rus., fom
Some words, it is to be observed, not only run through the entire
Indo-European or Japhetic group, but likewise appear in the She-
mitic. Thus the numeral " seven," already quoted, is evidently con-
nected with the sheba of the Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, and Ethiopic,
and the sabata of the Arabic and Hebrew. In like manner, " bear "
seems to have an etymological connection with the Hebrew parah,
which means to " bear," and perhaps with the Hebrew bara, mean-
ing "to create," "to produce," "to bring forth," (comp. Eng. bairn,
that which is born or brought forth.)
This word "bear," both in its generic meaning of bearing a bur-
den, and its specific meaning of bringing forth (as of animals, trees,
earth, etc.), is probably more widely diffused than any other word
to be found in the world. There is no word of which we would
feH it safer to guess that it was used by Noah himself, and that it
is verily older than the flood.
Let us look at a few of its forms in the English alone.
Here we have it both as a Teutonic word, coming directly from
the Saxon bceran, and as a Latin word, in its three several forms of
fero, pario, and porto.
First, let us enumerate some of the forms of Teutonic origin.
Bear, bearing, bearer, bearable, bearably, bier ; forbear, forbear-
ing, forbearingly, forbearance ; over-bear, over-bearing, over-bear-
ingly; bore, over-bore, for-bore; borne, over-borne, for-borne;
born, bairn, birth ; burden, burdening, burdened, burdensome, bur-
THE ENGLISn LANGUAGE. 361
densomely, burdensomeness ; over-burden, over-burdening, overbur-
dened, unburden, unburdening, etc.
From the Latin/m>, we have fertile (bearing freely, productive),
fertility, fertilize, fertilization, fertilizer, fertilizing, fertilized. Fors
(forts) comes from fero, as the Greek qopriov from <pepo, rpmrng from
Tpeira. Fors,fortis (whatever bears or brings itself along, cliance)
gives us fortune, fortuning, fortuned, fortunate, fortunately, for-
tuneless; unfortunate, unfortunately; misfortune; fortuitous, for-
tuitously, fortuity. Fortis (that which bears everything before it,
strong, orave) gives us forte; fort, fortlet, fortalice, fortress; forti-
tude, fortify, fortifying, fortified ; force, forcing, forced, forcer, force-
less, forceful, forcefully, forcible, forcibly; enforce, enforcing, en-
forced, enforcement; reinforce, reinforcing, reinforced, reinforce-
ment. There is some connection evidently between fero, to bear,
and ferry, to bear across a stream ; hence we have ferry, ferrying,
ferried, ferriage, ferryman, etc. Fer as an adjective termination,
in conjunction with ous, is compounded with many hundreds of
Latin nouns, giving rise to such words as somniferous, noctiferous,
odoriferous, pestiferous, vociferous, etc., some of which again origi-
nate a new progeny, as vociferous, vociferously, vociferate, vocifer-
ating, vociferated, vociferation, etc., etc.
Fero, in composition with the Latin prepositions, gives a still more
prolific progeny of words; as,
Circum-/<?r-ence, circumferential, circumferentor.
Con-fer, conferring, conferred, conference, conferrer, conferee.
De-fer, deferring, deferred, deference, deferential, deferentially.
Dif-fer, differing, differed, different, indifferent, differently, indif-
ferently, difference, indifference, differentiate, differentiating, dif-
ferentiated.
Infer, inferring, inferred, inferrible, inference, inferential, infer-
entially.
Of-fer, offering, offered, offerer, offertory.
Fre-fer, preferring, preferred, preferrer, preferment, preference,
preferable, preferably, preferableness.
Frof-fer, proffering, proffered, profferer.
Re-/<?r, referring, referred, referee, referrible, reference.
Suf-fer, suffering, suffered, sufferer, sufferance, sufferable, suffer-
ably, insufferably.
Tnms-fer, transferring, transferred, transferrer, transferee, trans-
ference, transferrible, intransferrible.
31
362 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
The connection between fer-o, and par-\o, to bring forth or bear,
may not be obvious at first sight; but the words are not more re-
moved than are (iapoq and <pepu in the Greek, in which case the
connection is generally admitted. As the identity of the stem de-
pends upon its consonantal elements, the substitution of p for / is
the only material change in passing from fer to the stem par, or per
(par-\o, pe-per-it), and no etymological law is better established
than the interchangeability of the labials^?, &,/, and v. The same
applies to por-to, to carry, to bear.
If these two words be admitted to belong to the group, we have
from par-\o, parent, parentage, parental, parentally, parentless,
parturient, parturition, and very numerous compounds, such as vivi-
parous, oviparous, etc. From por-to, to carry, we have port, porte,
portico, porch, porter, portly, portal, portage, portliness, portable,
portableness, besides the compounds portmanteau, portfolio, etc.,
etc. Besides these, we have also the various prepositional com-
pounds, com-port, de-port, ex -port, im-port, re-port, sup-port, trans-
port, each of which gives birth to a numerous family, which need
not be enumerated, as they are formed in the same manner as the
derivatives of con-fer, de-fer, etc., already given.
It is not necessary to pursue the illustration further. From a
careful count, I suppose there are in the English language alone,
not less than four hundred and fifty words, dependent upon this one
stem, in no one of which is the meaning of the primary root entirely
lost.
What the count might be, if carried through each of the lan-
guages of the Indo-European family, to say nothing of the numer-
ous traces of it in the Shemitic family, I am unable to say. It cer-
tainly reaches many tens of thousands.
One other remark before we leave this subject, In treating of
such a class of words, it is obviously proper to say, first, that fer-
tile, confer, defer, etc., are derived from the Latin fero; secondly,
that bear, burden, borne, born, birth, etc., are derived from the
Sax. Jacran. But it is not proper to 3ay that baeran and its deriv-
atives come from fero, or that fero and its derivatives come from
baeran. The two (fero and baeran) are independent of each other,
and yet they are mutually related. The generic stem, which per-
vades them all, is not strictly a Teutonic word, or a Latin word,
but an Indo-European word.
Having thus given a general outline, showing what is meant by
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 363
the Indo-European family of languages, with a few examples in
illustration of the theory, we will pass briefly in review some of
those historical facts which show more particularly the exact place
of the English language in this family.
According to the theory, then, the first of the great waves of
population that rolled westward from Central Asia, was the Celtic
race. At what particular time this great emigration took place,
we know not. We only know that it was many centuries before
the Christian era. The Celts, or Kelts, appear to have been origin-
ally nomadic in their character, and to have journeyed westerly,
or to have been driven westerly by the Teutons or some succeed-
ing race, through Central Europe, until their further progress was
arrested by the Atlantic Ocean. "We find remains of this race all
along the Atlantic coast of Europe, though they were chiefly con-
gregated in Spain, Gaul, Britain, and the adjacent islands.
The Latin or Roman race, shortly before the Christian era, ex-
tended their dominion northward from Italy, until they had subdued
nearly all the countries occupied by the Celtic race. In Spain, and
in Gaul (or France), this dominion was so complete, that those
countries became integral parts of the Roman Empire. Not only
Roman laws and customs were introduced, but a Roman population
extended itself into those provinces, and intermingled largely with
the original population, so that finally the Roman or Latin lan-
guage was substituted for the original Celtic throughout the prov-
inces of Gaul and Spain.
In the year 55 B. C, the Romans, under Julius Caesar, passed
from Gaul to Great Britain. From that time until 426 A. D., a
period of nearly five centuries, the Romans continued to regard
Great Britain as a part of their empire.
At length, in the fifth century of the Christian era, the Teutonic
or Germanic race, then occupying Eastern and Central Europe,
under various names, as Goths, Vandals, Franks, etc., began to be
agitated by a great and steady impulse southward and westward.
These fierce northern barbarians precipitated themselves with fear-
ful violence upon the now corrupt and imbecile Roman provinces.
The Roman Empire, tottering to its fall under these repeated
assaults, was obliged to withdraw its forces from the distant prov-
inces for the defence of the imperial city itself. The Roman
legions were finally withdrawn from Great Britain in the year
426 A. D., just 481 years after the invasion of Coasar, and the
364 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
native Britons were left thenceforth to defend themselves, as they
best might, from the barbarians that on all sides threatened them.
The Roman occupation of Great Britain differed materially from
their occupation of Gaul and Spain. These latter countries were
thoroughly subdued and made part of the great Roman common-
wealth, almost as much so as was Italy itself. They were Roman-
ized or Latinized almost as thoroughly as Louisiana is now Amer-
icanized. But in Britain the case was different. The Romans
there held at best only a military occupation. They maintained
one or more legions in the island. They constructed roads, they
fortified camps, and had, of course, considerable commerce with
the natives. But the Roman people themselves never settled in
great numbers in the island.
The connection between the Romans and the Britons was some-
what similar to that between the present English and the natives of
India. There was a state of military subjugation, and, to some ex-
tent, of civil administration and government; but there was no
general intermixing and fusion of races. There was no extension
of the language of the conquerors over the region of the conquered.
On the final withdrawal of the Roman legions, in the fifth century,
the original Britons are found to have retained hardly any traces of
the Roman or Latin language. It is asserted that less than a dozen
words altogether remain upon the island, as the result of these five
centuries of military occupation, and these few words are so much
corrupted as to be with difficulty recognized.
Among the Latin words left in Great Britain by the Romans, may
be mentioned, by way of illustration, the proper name Chester, both
as occurring by itself, and as a part of many compounds, such as
West-Chester, Win-Chester, Chi-Chester, Col-Chester, etc. Chester
is a corruption of the Latin word castra, a fortified camp. These
fortified camps of the Romans, in the distant provinces, were often
permanent establishments, remaining in the same place for a series
of years. Of course, the natives resorted to these camps for the
purpose of traffic, bringing for sale provisions, clothing, and what-
ever else was needed for the support of the soldiery. Booths were
erected, then huts, and finally more settled habitations, arranged in
rows, or streets, and so each camp, "castra," or " Chester," became
the nucleus of a town, giving us Westchester, Manchester, Grant-
chester, and all the other Cheaters.
The Latin words, however, that were left in Great Britain by the
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 365
Romans, as the result of this early occupation of the island, are very-
few in comparison with the whole number of Latin words that now
exist in English. We know not how many Latin words we now have
in English, certainly not less than thirty thousand. But this vast
number was not introduced by the Roman conquest. Not a hundred
altogether are found that came in as the result of that event, and
those few are, like the word Chester, so much altered, as scarcely to
be recognized. The large ingredient of Latin words now existing in
English, is to be attributed to causes of much later date, some of
them indeed coming down to the present day. Of these I shall
speak more fully a few pages farther on.
The year 451 A. D. is generally assigned as the date of an event
that has affected, more than all other causes, the destiny of Great
Britain. This was the coming of the Saxons, under the two brothers
Hengist and Horsa.
The Saxons were a branch of the great Teutonic race. They
lived along the southern shores of the Baltic, in the countries now
known as Holland, Jutland, Hanover, Sleswick, Holstein, etc., ex-
tending from the Rhine to the Vistula. Their position along the coast
of the North Sea and the Baltic, and the numerous bays, creeks, and
rivers with which that coast is indented, determined in a great
measure their occupation, and separated them perceptibly, both in
character and destiny, from their Teutonic brethren of the forests
of Central Germany. They were the navigators of their age. They
spent their lives almost entirely upon the waves. Bold, buccaneer-
ing, and piratical, they were the terror equally of the Roman and
the Celt.
The various tribes of this race were known by different names.
Those with which history is most familiar are the Jutes, the Angles,
and the Saxons. That part of Britain which was settled by the
Angles was called Angle-land, changed afterwards into "Engle land,"
and then into England. This name, applied primarily to a single
province, was ultimately extended to the whole country. The com-
pound term, "Anglo-Saxons," taken from the two most notorious
of the piratical tribes, and used as a convenient abbreviation for
"Angles and Saxons," is the name generally given by historians
to all those of the race that settled on the island of Great Britain.
The Saxons did not come into Britain all at one time, or in one
body. Their first arrival was under Hengist and Horsa, A. D. 451.
One part of the race having obtained a secure foothold in the island,
31*
366 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
other swarms followed from time to time, for several hundred years.
In the year 827, nearly four centuries after the first settlement, seven
independent Saxon kingdoms had been established in the island,
which were then united under one government, known as the Saxon
Heptarchy.
The policy of the Saxons in Britain differed entirely from that of
the Romans. The Romans had merely a military occupation of the
island. They held it in subjection by their legions, and when those
legions were withdrawn, the native Britons remained on the same
soil where Caesar found them, improved and civilized indeed by con-
tact with the Romans, but still unmixed as to race, and uncorrupted
as to language. The Saxons came with a far different purpose, and
in a far different manner. The Saxons took, not military, but popu-
lar occupation of the island. They came, not as an army merely,
but as a people. They came, not to conquer merely, but to settle.
They made England their headquarters, their home. Their policy,
therefore, was one of extermination. The Romans held the Britons
in subjection. The Saxons butchered them, or drove them out. The
Roman soldiery and the Britons covered the same area of territory,
mingling freely together. The Saxons wanted, not subjects, but
soil. The conflict, therefore, between these two races was one of
the bloodiest upon record. The result was the expulsion, almost the
extermination, of the feebler race. When the Saxon Heptarchy was
fully established, the great mass of the native Britons had been liter-
ally butchered. Of those that survived this fate, some few had set-
tled in Armorica or Brittany, on the coast of France, but the great
majority had taken refuge in the secluded and inaccessible mountain
fastnesses of Wales, where they remain as a distinct race to this day.
The Welsh of the present day are the lineal descendants of the
ancient Britons.
The most striking evidence of the extent to which this extermi-
nating policy of the Saxons was carried, is to be found in the lan-
guage. Had the Saxons come into the island as the Romans did, and
mingled with the natives, even though it had been as conquerors, the
original British or Celtic language would have remained substantially
unchanged, or, at most, there would have been a mixture of the two
languages — the British or Celtic, and the Saxon. So far is this,
however, from the fact, that after the Saxon conquest was completed,
there remained upon the soil scarcely a vestige of the original lan-
guage of the island. According to Latham, the only common names
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 367
retained in current use from the original Celtic of Great Britain are
the following: basket, barrow, button, bran, clout, crock, crook,
cock, gusset, kiln, dainty, darn, tender, fleam, flaw, funnel, gyve, grid
(in gridiron), gruel, welt, wicket, gown, wire, mesh, mattock, mop,
rail, rasher, rug, solder, size, tackle.
I know of but one instance in history of an extermination so
complete, and that is, of the Indian race who originally occupied
this country, and whose fate presents a curious parallel to that of
the ancient Britons. As there now linger among our hills and val-
leys a few Indian words which we have adopted and anglicized, such
as tomato, potato, tobacco, calumet, wigwam, tomahawk, hominy,
mush, samp, moccasin, etc., so among the Saxons, after their bloody
work was over, there remained a few of the words of the old Brit-
ons. As the remains of the Indian tribes are now gathered into a
body in the West, where they retain and keep alive their native dia-
lects, so the remnants of the miserable Britons were collected into
the western part of England, in what is now the Principality of
Wales, where they retain with great tenacity their ancient language
and many of their ancient customs.
The original language of Briton, then, the old British or Celtic
language, that which was spoken by the half-naked savages that
Caesar saw, still exists. It is a living, spoken language. But it is
not our language. Though spoken in parts of England, it is not
the English language. It is not that with which we are materially
concerned in our present inquiry. We, Englishmen and Americans,
are lineal descendants of the Anglo-Saxons, and our language is
the Saxon language. The English language, whose history we are
now sketching, though it has received large admixtures from vari-
ous sources, is in the main the same that was spoken by Hengist
and Horsa, and by their countrymen along the southern shores of
the Baltic, before their arrival in England in the fifth century.
During the ninth and tenth centuries, the Saxons in their turn
were invaded by the Danes. The Danish invasion, however, does
not assume much importance in giving the history of the language,
because the Danes, although for a time victorious, were finally ex-
pelled, leaving the Saxons in possession of the country. The Danes,
moreover, were of a race cognate to the Saxons, and their language
belonged to the same group of languages. A considerable number
of Danish words were retained in the island, and have been incor-
porated into the language. They are not, however, so numerous,
363 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
nor do they differ so much from the Saxon words, as to make any
special consideration of them necessary.
The first historical event which impaired seriously the integrity
of the language, was the Norman conquest. William, Duke of Nor-
mandy, generally known as William the Conqueror, invaded England,
A. D. 1066, and by the decisive battle of Hastings routed the Sax-
ons, and gained the English throne. By this event the Normans
became, and continued to be, the governing race in England. Let .-
us trace briefly the influence of this event upon the language.
The policy of the Normans differed both from that of the Romans
and that of the Saxons, and it was this difference of policy that
caused such a difference in the effect upon the language. The Nor-
mans did not, like the Romans, merely send over an army to subju-
gate, but came over as a people to occupy. On the other hand, they
did not, like the Saxons, exterminate the conquered, but sought to
keep them on the soil as a subject and servile race. William divided
the island among his followers, giving to each a portion of territory,
and of the Saxon population which was upon it. In this manner,
two races were diffused, side by side, over the surface of the island,
and kept in constant juxtaposition. The effect of this continued
contact between the two races soon became apparent.
The Normans were superior to the conquered race in military
skill, but were greatly inferior in numbers. They sought, there-
fore, to perpetuate their authority by depressing the social and
political condition of the Saxons. They introduced Norman laws
and customs. None but Normans were appointed to any important
office, either in church or state. Above all, a strenuous attempt
was made to spread the Norman language throughout the island.
No other language was spoken at court, or in camp, in parliament,
in the baronial hall, or in the lady's boudoir. In this language the
laws were written, and judicial proceedings were conducted. No
civil contract was binding, no man could sue or be sued, no right
could be enforced, and no favor won, except in the language of the
governing race. The first step to every Saxon serf, who wished to rise
from his state of inferiority and servitude, was to forget his native
language, and train his tongue to the accents of his foreign masters.
But the laws of nature are stronger than the laws of man. The
Normans attempted an impossibility. It is impossible for two races
to maintain permanently a separate existence, when kept in constant
contact and juxtaposition, as were the Normans and the Saxons. A
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 369
mingling of race is sooner or later the uniform and inevitable result.
So it was here. The Saxons gradually intermarried with the Nor-
mans, and rose to an equality of legal rights and social position.
With the elevation of the race, the Saxon language resumed its right-
ful position. It had always been the language of the masses, while
the Norman had been spoken only by the governing few. When
two races become thus blended into one people, they cannot long
continue to speak different languages. In this case, the Saxon, as
being the language of the many, displaced the Norman, which was
the language of the few, notwithstanding all the weight of authority
and fashion that had been exerted in favor of the latter.
It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that no changes in
the language occurred during this fiery ordeal. As there was a
mingling of race, so there was to some extent a mingling of language.
If we take a survey of the authors that wrote two or three cen-
turies after the conquest, we find, not the pure Saxon of Alfred and
Csedmon, nor yet the Norman parlance of William and his barons,
but a mixed language, like the race, predominantly indeed Saxon,
but with a large foreign ingredient. This mixed language is our
modern English. Its main element is Saxon. But it has another
element, amounting now to nearly one-third of the whole, the first
introduction of which is to be attributed to the Norman conquest.
But who were the Normans, and what was their language ? The
word M Norman " is a corruption of Northman. The " Northmen "
were the inhabitants of the ancient Scandinavia, that is of Norway,
Sweden, and Denmark. They were, in the ninth and tenth cen-
turies, precisely what the Saxons had been in the fifth century.
The Saxons, after their establishment in Great Britain, had been
converted to Christianity, had acquired the arts of peace, and be-
come comparatively civilized. The Northmen were still unlettered
pagans, whose home was in their ships, and whose whole life was
warfare. For the greater part of two centuries, they ravaged all
the more civilized countries of Europe bordering upon the coast,
until their very name was a terror. Eollo, a leader of one of those
adventurous bands, penetrated into the very heart of France, and
finally obliged the king to cede to him and his followers an en-
tire province, amounting to no inconsiderable part of the kingdom.
This province, thus ceded, A. D. 912, to the victorious Northmen,
or Normans, was thenceforward called Normandy.
Rollo and his followers were comparatively few in numbers.
Y.
370 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
They gradually intermarried with their subjects in the province
which had been assigned to them, and adopted their manners, re-
ligion, and language. In less than a century after the advefet of
Rollo, his descendants in Normandy were, as to language, hardly dis-
tinguishable from other Frenchmen. But the French language, as we
have seen, is in the main that introduced into the province of Gaul
by the Romans. It is, in short, a corrupt form of the Latin lan-
guage ; and the Norman-French is the same as other French, only
with the addition of some northern or Scandinavian words, which the
descendants of Rollo retained after their settlement in Normandy-..'
The Norman-French, therefore, which William the Conqueror
tried to introduce into. England, was mainly a Latin language. The
Normans did not eventually succeed in displacing our native Saxon,
but they did succeed in introducing into it a large number of Nor-
man-French words, and these Norman-French words, introduced
into English after the Conquest, are generally words of Latin origin.
These Latin words, thus introduced through the Norman-French, con-
stitute the first important item in the Latin element of the language.
The importance of the Norman conquest, ;in its influence upon the
language, is not to be estimated by the actual number of words then'
introduced. In point of fact, much the larger number of Latin words
have been brought into the language since that time, and by other
causes. The chief effect of the Conquest in this respect was, first,
that it broke down the old grammatical inflections, which constituted
a dividing wall between the two languages, and, secondly, that it
created the tendency to adopt foreign words. There is in all nations
naturally a strong aversion to the adoption of foreign terms. The
natural and spontaneous disposition, when a new word is wanted, is
to make it out of roots or stems already existing in the language, and
by modes of combination with which the popular ear is familiar.
The terrible shock of the Conquest, and the wholesale use of foreign
words to which the people thereby became accustomed, overcame this
natural dislike, and opened a wide door through succeeding centu-
ries for a continued influx of Latin words from a variety of sources.
The extent of this influx may be estimated, if we call to mind that
England, both from its position and from its natural policy, has
always maintained the closest commercial relations with the nations
of Southern Europe, and that those nations, the French, Spanish,
Portuguese, and Italian, all speak languages that have descended
directly from the Latin, and that have consequently the closest
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 371
affinity with each other. The Norman conquest having brought a
large number of Latin words into the language, and having opened
permanently the door for the introduction of others, by overcoming
the national prejudice on the subject, and by making such foreign
importations fashionable and popular, there has been ever since an
uninterrupted stream of Latin words setting in upon us, like a tide
that knows no ebb. Whenever, in the progress of commerce or of
the arts, it has become necessary to have new words for the expres-
sion of new wants, or new ideas, instead of making these new words
by a process of home manufacture, we have resorted to the easy
credit system of borrowing them from our neighbors. Almost
every musical term in the language has been taken from the Italian,
most of our terms of etiquette and punctilio from the Spanish, and
the entire nomenclature of cookery, dress, and fashion from the
French. Italian singers and fiddlers, and Parisian cooks and milli-
ners, have levied a tax upon our tongues no less than upon our purses.
These foreign words, when first introduced, usually appear in a
foreign dress. They are printed in italics, or with quotation marks,
or in some way to indicate that they are foreigners, and not yet
entitled to the full rights of citizenship. But in a few years, the
popular ear gets accustomed to the lingo, the popular lip learns to
sound it trippingly, it becomes a part of staple English.
But there is another source from which Latin words have been
brought into the language, even more prolific than those from mix-
ture of race and from national intercourse. I refer to learning and
education. From an early period in English history, long indeed
before the time of the Conquest, all ecclesiastics were instructed in
the Latin tongue, because in that tongue all the church services
were conducted. Besides this, the Latin language then was, and
indeed until comparatively modern times it continued to be, the
general language of scientific and literary intercourse throughout
Europe. Every treatise intended for general dissemination was
written as a matter of course in Latin. Latin was the only medium
by which an author could make himself known to those for whom
alone books were intended, namely, the learned few. In addition
to this, it has been, for more than a thousand years, and it still is,
the settled practice, that the study of the Latin shall form a lead-
ing part in every course of liberal education. All educated men, of
whatever profession, have been, as a matter of course, Latin scholars.
The language of Cicero and Virgil has been as familiar to English-
372 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
men of education, as that of Chaucer and Spenser. Indeed, as to a
critical knowledge either of authors or of language, Englishmen
have been far more proficient in the Latin than in their native
English. The mother-tongue has been left to take its chance in the
nursery and the play-ground, while Latin has been interwoven with
every element of their intellectual cultivation.
The effect of such a system must be obvious. The wall of par-
tition between native words and foreign having been broken down
by the rude shock of the Conquest, scholars have completed what
warriors, teachers, and artists began. Hence the strange anomaly,
that with us learned men have been the chief corrupters of the
language. The Germans, and other Teutonic nations, have been as
much addicted to the cultivation of classical scholarship as we have.
But with them the national instinct has never been rudely blunted,
and it has resisted with a great measure of success the Latinizing
tendency which has so marked all classical studies with us. Our
scholars have found, not only no resistance, but every facility which
the established habits of the people could afford, for the introduc-
tion of Latin words. Out of this abundance of their hearts, there-
fore, they have freely spoken. Steeped from boyhood in the diction
of the most polished nations of antiquity, they have but followed a
natural impulse, when they have used " dictionary " for " word-
book," "science" for "knowledge," " fraternal" for "brotherly,"
"maternal" for "motherly," "paternal" for "fatherly," "felicity"
for " happiness," and so on, to an extent which may be already
counted by tens of thousands, and which is constantly increasing.
If now, from a review of the whole subject, the question be asked,
What are the main elements of the English language ? the answer
will be obvious. There are, indeed, as we have seen, a few old
Celtic words, which have come down to us directly from the an-
cient Britons. Among the thousands of words, also, that have
come to us from France, Spain, and perhaps Italy, there are doubt-
less some few of Celtic origin, because the original population of all
those countries was Celtic, before they were overrun by the Romans.
We have also a few Scandinavian words, introduced by the Danes
during their invasions of England in the ninth and tenth centuries,
such as, bait, brag, dish, dock, doze, dwell, flimsy, fling, gust, ran-
sack, rap, whim, etc. There are, too, without doubt, not a few
Scandinavian words brought by the Northmen into France, and
thence by their descendants, the Normans, into England, after the
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 373
Conquest. We have also, as every nation has, occasional words,
derived from every country, no matter how remote, with which we
have commercial intercourse, or with whose literature our scholars
have been conversant. Thus, we have tariff from Tarif a, a town on
the Mediterranean, where import duties were once levied ; tamarind,
from Heb. tamar and ind-ns; damask, damascene, and damson,
from Damascus ; spaniel, from Hispaniola ; ratan, bantam, and sago,
Malay words; taboo, Hawaiian; algebra, almanac, alchemy, chem-
istry, talisman, zero, zenith, coffee, sugar, syrup, sofa, mattress, from
the Arabic ; caravan, dervish, scarlet, azure, lilac, from the Persian ;
gong, nankin, from China ; muslin, chintz, and calico, from India.
But all these together are few and inconsiderable, in comparison
with the whole number of our words, and they do not affect the
organic character of the language. The overwhelming majority of
our words are still of two classes. They are either Saxon or Latin.
These are the two main elements which constitute the language.
No mention has been made thus far of Greek words, of which we
have a large number in the language. The omission has been inten-
tional, and for the purpose of simplifying the historical survey of the
subject. The Greek language is so nearly allied to the Latin, that in
a discussion like this, they may be considered as one. It is only
necessary to remark, that very few Greek words have been in-
troduced by mixture of race, or by commercial intercourse. The
Greek words which we have, were introduced almost entirely by
scholars and books. Nearly all of them are scientific terms. Indeed,
nine-tenths of all the scientific terms that we have, are Greek.
Of the relative numbers of these two classes of words, Saxon and
Latin, it is impossible to speak with certainty. If we exclude all
compound and obsolete words, and all purely scientific and technical
words, the ratio of Anglo-Saxon words to the whole body of words
in the language, would probably be about six-tenths, or sixty per
cent. If we examine, however, the page of any ordinary English
book, the Saxon words will be found to bear a much larger prepon-
derance than this. One reason is, that all the small connecting
words, the articles, pronouns, prepositions, conjunctions, and most
of the adverbs, are Saxon. These small words occur at least ten
times as often as any other class of words in the language. For
example, " wickedness," which is Saxon, may not occur more fre-
quently perhaps than " malice," which is Latin. But "the," "and,"
"but," "if," etc., will be found a hundred times, where either
32
374
COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
" wickedness" or " malice " will be found once. Again, some writers
are noted for their partiality to the Latin vocables, others for their
partiality to the Saxon. But, taking the average of different writers,
and excluding works of science, in which sometimes the words are
almost entirely Latin and Greek, I suppose that the Saxon words
on any page of ordinary English will be found to be nearly nine-
tenths of the whole number.
The Latin words that have found their way into the English may
be again subdivided into two well-defined classes, viz., those that
have come to us by national intercourse and admixture, and those
that have come through learned men and education. The former
have come to us indirectly, from languages that are not pure Latin,
but are the modern representatives and descendants of that tongue,
viz., the French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian. The others have
come directly from the fountain-head, the Latin itself. Words of the
former class are all more or less corrupted, either in those modern
languages in which the English found them, or in the transition from
those languages into the English. Words of the latter class, taken
from the Latin directly, are changed very little, or not at all.
The difference between these two classes can be best illustrated
by a few examples. It exists mainly in the stem, or root of the
word. Both classes are obliged to conform to the English idiom as
to the termination. But in the stem, while those coming from the
Latin directly are almost without change, those from the other
languages, particularly those from the French, are almost invariably
changed in the spelling. Thus :
Latin Stems.
Curs-us,
Cur(r)o,
Reg-is,
Fruct-us,
Fragil-is,
Pung-ens,
Punct-um,
Recept-um,
Decept-um,
Diurn-us,
Words coming from the
Latin directly.
curs-ive,
cur(r)ent,
reg-al,
fruct-ify,
fragil-e,
pung-ent,
punct-ual,
recept-acle,
decept-ion,
diurn-al,
Words coming from the
French, or some other
modern descendant of
the Latin.
course.
cour-ier.
royal.
fruit.
frail.
poignant.
point.
receipt.
deceit.
journal.
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 375
It is a common opinion, that the language has deteriorated in con-
sequence of this multitude of foreign admixtures. Some purists
have gone so far as to recommend an entire disuse of words of Latin
origin, — to put upon them the ban of public odium, to stigmatize
them as foreigners and intruders. It cannot be doubted, indeed,
that many writers have been beguiled into an excess in their par-
tiality for the Latin vocables.
Dr. Johnson was a great sinner in this line. " Our Father, who
art in heaven," translated into Johnsonese, would read on this wise,
"Parent Divine, who existest in the celestial regions ! " " If a body
kiss a body, need a body cry," is a piece of as good English as was
ever written. Turned into Johnsonese, it would run somewhat on
this wise : " On the supposition that an individual salutes an indi-
vidual, does an individual lie under an obligation to exclaim in a
vehement and plaintive voice?" A boy in an English charity-
school was once asked, " what King David did, when the servants
told him that his child was dead ? " " Please, sir, he cleaned him-
self, and took to his victuals." The admirers of the high-polite
style would be quite shocked at such homespun talk, and would
array the matter thus: "What course of action did King David
pursue when he received intelligence of the demise of the infant? "
Answer, " He performed his ablutions, and immediately proceeded
to partake of refreshments."
Perhaps the happiest hit upon this style is the imitation of Dr.
Johnson in the Rejected Addresses.* A single paragraph will give
an idea of the performance.
" Professions lavishly effused and parsimoniously verified are alike
inconsistent with the precepts of innate rectitude and the practice
of internal policy ; let it not then be conjectured, that because we
are unassuming, we are imbecile ; that forbearance is any indication
of despondency, or humility, of demerit. He that is the most
assured of success will make the fewest appeals to favor, and where
nothing is claimed that is undue, nothing that is due will be with-
held. A swelling opening is too often succeeded by an insignificant
conclusion. Parturient mountains have ere now produced muscipu-
lar abortions; and the auditor who compares incipient grandeur
with final vulgarity is reminded of the pious hawkers of Constanti-
nople, who solemnly perambulate her streets, exclaiming, 'In the
name of the prophet — figs ! ' "
* Rejected Addresses. By James and Horace Smith. A series of parodies oq the
authors of the day, published in 1812.
376 COMPOSITION AND REETORIQ.
But among our great authors, Dr. Johnson is not the only sinner
in this respect. Gibbon, for instance, is quite his equal. No book
in the language is more free from this Latinism, or is in all respects
in purer English, than the English Bible. The writers who come
nearest to the Bible, in the purity of their English, are Shakespeare
and Bunyan. Next to these, I suppose, is Addison. Poetry uni-
formly is freer from Latinism than prose is.
That part of the domain of English letters in which words of
classical origin most abound, is in the field of science. With the
exception of a few Arabic terms, almost our entire scientific nomen-
clature is derived from the Latin and Greek, particularly the latter.
Not less than nine-tenths of our scientific terms are Greek. Medi-
cine, geology, mineralogy, grammar, logic, mathematics, physics,
and metaphysics, are all in a state of utter dependence upon lan-
guages with which none but the learned are familiar. This has
been, undoubtedly, a hindrance to the communication of knowledge.
To any one acquainted with the Greek and Latin, the terms used in
the different sciences almost of themselves, and without further
study, describe the objects to which they are applied.
If now these terms, instead of being taken from a dead language,
had been drawn from the resources of the mother-tongue, the very
structure of the word would show its meaning even to the unlet-
tered, and with the meaning of the word would be conveyed a
knowledge of the thing.
When, for instance, the anatomist speaks of the " systole " and
"diastole" of the heart, he talks Greek. lie must consequently
explain himself. He must give in different words a description of
the thing meant, and after you have learned from these other
sources the nature of the subject, you infer vaguely what must be
the meaning of the words. Now, suppose the anatomist had been
called to explain the same point to a native Greek. The words
themselves would have conveyed the idea which is meant, and
nothing more would have been necessary to convey this idea, even
to an unlettered man, than a mere enunciation of the terms. To a
native Greek, systole and diastole, apogee and perigee, hydraulics,
hydrodynamics, clepsydra, creosote, isomeric, isomorphic, metaraor-
phic, and all the other thousands upon thousands of scientific terms,
which so puzzle the mere English student, are just as intelligible and
expressive in themselves, as to the native Englishman are our home-
spun compounds, inkstand, penhandle, moonlight, notebook, sun-
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 377
rise, woodland, hilltop, cornfield, snowflake, pitchfork, daylight,
forenoon, afternoon, and so on, to any extent. I cannot doubt,
therefore, that if the terms of science had been, from the first, and
throughout, carefully elaborated out of our own native materials,
the difficulties in the communication of science would have been
much lessened.
The actual number of foreign words in the language, great as this
may be, is not the worst feature of the case. A still greater evil is
the national tendency to adopt others as fast as they are wanted,
without reluctance, and apparently without limit, instead of produc-
ing them by a process of home-manufacture. In some languages
there appears to be a perfect reliance upon their own resources for
the expression of new ideas. Whenever, in the progress of the
arts, or in the wide ranges of human thought, it becomes necessary
to employ some new word for the expression of some new shade of
meaning, it is always done in such languages by some new com-
bination or fresh moulding of the materials already existing. Such
a process begets a habit, and with the habit a facility, in the forma-
tion of compound and derivative words, that in the end render a
language in the highest degree flexible and expressive. Such is the
truly infinite power of combination in a language so formed, that
it is impossible to conceive an idea which the language does not fur-
nish within itself the means of completely expressing. How differ-
ent is this from the condition of the English. Every new fashion
from the French milliners, every new dish from the French cooks,
every new dancing- woman from the French stage, every new singer
or fiddler from the Italian opera, every discovery in science, every
invention in art, even too often the arts, and wants, and inventions
that spring up indigenously among ourselves, have to be made
known to the public under some foreign term. Such is the fashion,
and fashion in language, as in most things, is supreme. Even Morse
must call his far-off- writer a telegraph, and Webster himself, our
great lexicographer, with all his temerity, had not the courage to
call his Dictionary a Word-Book.
How different have been the fortunes of the English from those
of the German. These two languages, in the beginning of the race,
started even. They were both of the same common stock. Their
parents, the old Saxon and the old German, have a common ancestor
in the venerable Gothic. Cradled in the impenetrable forests of the
•elder Europe, they were, in the fifth century, in the same incipient
32*
378 COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.
formative condition. The German, hemmed in on all sides, hnt not
invaded, was led by circumstances to draw upon its own resources
for the invention of new terms to express the new ideas which be-
came evolved in the onward progress of civilization. Hence has
resulted a language capable of expressing, by combinations of its
own native words, every shade of meaning required even by the
teeming brains of that nation of students — a language uniting in-
finite diversity of forms with entire simplicity of materials. How
different the English ! — a conglomerate of materials from a dozen
different sources; affluent, indeed, almost beyond comparison, in
its multiplicity of words, but wanting in that noble simplicity
which might have been the result of a different course of political
events.
But let us not be among the croakers. Bad as the case is, it is
not entirely hopeless. There are in various quarters symptoms of a
growing partiality for words of native stock. Besides this, the very
evil complained of is not without compensating advantages. One
advantage of this facility with which we borrow foreign words, is
that we have thereby become, beyond all nations, rich in synonyms.
For the same idea, in almost numberless instances, we have two, and
sometimes even three terms, exactly equivalent and equally legiti-
mate. This is a decided advantage, saving oftentimes tiresome and
inelegant repetitions. The writer who has tired his readers with
the term "native language," may take refuge, as in this chapter I
have had frequent occasion to do, in the " mother tongue." The
idea is kept up, but the tautology is spared. Moreover, it frequently
happens in these cases, that of two words of different origin, used
to express the same general idea, the one has acquired by usage a
slight shade of meaning different from the other, so delicate and
evanescent as scarcely to be defined, and yet perceptible to a cul-
tivated taste, and beautiful in proportion to its delicacy. How
logically the same, for instance, and yet how different to the loving
heart, are the words "maternal " and "motherly." It was his skill
in availing himself of this peculiarity of the language, that among
other things enabled our own Washington Irving to express with
such marvellous exactness the endlessly varying shades of human
thought and feeling — that enabled him to pass from the grave to
the gay, from the didactic to the playful, from the humorous to the
sublime, with an ease that seems only equalled by the movements
of the mind itself.
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 379
Far be it from me then to join the ranks of those who would dis-
miss with a rude rebuff these Latin-English intruders. They are
now here. They form a large and valuable element of our language.
They are a part of our national wealth ; and they should be cher-
ished and protected accordingly. All I would ask, is to protest
against the unnecessary introduction of more, and to insist upon
making the native element of the language a subject of more dis-
tinct attention than it has hitherto received in our schemes of edu-
cation.
Index
Abbreviations, when requiring periods,
43,44.
Absolute case, requiring comma, 34.
Abstract subjects for compositions, 315.
Accents, in punctuation, 62 ; accents at
convenient intervals promote the
harmony of the sentence, 142; needed
near the close of a sentence, 144; in-
terval between accents, 222; accent
not arbitrary, 223 ; a paramount law
in all speech, 223 ; names of the accent-
ual divisions, 223; place of the accent
important in giving ease and pleasure
to pronunciation, 224; rhythm de-
pendent upon the proper adjustment
of the accents, 224 ; accentual verse
characteristic of modern poetry, 247,
248.
Acts, in dramatic poetry, 267.
Addison, example of misplaced adverb,
104 ; misplaced pronoun, 112 ; inappro-
priate simile, 161 ; mixed metaphor,
165 ; purity of his English, 376.
Addresses, 301 ; college addresses, 302.
Admire, meaning changed, 79.
Adroitness, 74.
Adverbial clauses, position of, 106.
Adverbs, position in the sentence im-
portant to clearness, 104 ; position of
only, wholly, at least, etc., 104, 105.
Aeschylus, 267.
ASsop's Fables, 168.
JEtna, Sir Richard Blackmore's descrip-
tion of it, belittling, 204.
Affectation in using foreign words, 72.
Aggravates, used incorrectly, 82.
Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagina-
tion, 272.
Aldus Manutius, inventor of the art
of punctuation, 21.
Alford, example of misplaced adverb,
104 ; adverbial clause misplaced, 107 ;
squinting construction, 109 ; misplace-
ment of pronouns, 112 ; The Queen's
English, 352.
Allegory, 167-169; difference between
allegory and metaphor, 167 ; points in
common in metaphor and allegory,
167, 168 ; allegory, parable, and fable,
points in common, 167 ; rule for alle-
gory, 169 ; scientific allegory by Prof.
Forbes, 168.
Alliteration of the Saxon verse, 233.
Alone, how differing from only, 85.
Alternatives, used incorrectly, 82.
Amatory odes, 269.
Ambiguity, sentences made ambiguous
by faulty arrangement, 104-110; by
misplacement of pronouns, 112-114.
Anacreon, his odes, 270.
Anapaast, 227 ; anapaestic verse, 227-230;
anapajstic metres for hymns, how
designated, 249.
And, management of, 134.
Anglo-Saxon, language, 357; conquest
of Britain, 3G5; linguistic results, 366,
367.
Annals, 297.
INDEX.
381
Antithesis, 169, 170; effect of it, 169;
rule in regard to it, 169; examples,
169 ; caution in regard to the use of
antithesis, 170; relation to epigram,
171; example of antithesis, 169.
Apostrophe, 61 ; a figure of speech, 174 ;
akin to exclamation, 174; examples,
175.
.4p2>ost*ion,nouns in, require comma, 33;
reflex apposition requiring dash, 51.
Apt, used incorrectly, 83.
Arabians, sometimes supposed to be the
inventors of rhyme, 232 ; rhyme ex-
tending to more than three syllables,
233.
Arabic figures, when requiring pe-
riods, 44.
Architecture, compared to rhetoric, 197.
Aristophanes, of Alexandria, an in-
ventor of points, 21; the dramatist,
268.
Arts, Fine, poetry one of them, 263.
Aryan, language, 358.
As and like, confounded, 80.
Asiatic Society, the originator of San-
scrit studies, 354.
Aside, set aside, used incorrectly, 83.
Assassinate, how differing from kill
and murder, 85.
Attitude, of devotion, how different
from posture of devotion, 84.
Authority, what constitutes authority
for a word, 76.
Autobiography, 298.
Avocation, distinguished from vocation,
80.
Avow, acknowledge, confess, how differ-
ing, 85.
Awfulness, an element of the sublime,
200; objects which inspire awe, 200;
night awful, 200.
JSacchanalian songs, 270.
Bailey, metaphor, 182.
Baillie, Joanna, metaphor, 190.
Balance, used incorrectly, 83.
Balanced sentence, 98 ; examples from
Johnson, Junius, Pope, and others, 99;
use of balanced sentence, 100 ; the par-
allelism of Hebrew poetry a kind of
balanced sentence, 100.
Barbarism in language, 72.
liarbauld, a hymn writer, 269.
Bear and JPero, number of words de-
rived from this stem, 360, 361.
Beattie, specimen of anapaestic verse, 254.
Beauty, 206-211 ; relation of beauty to
sublimity, 206 ; color an element of
beauty, 207 ; how far we are influenced
by association in our admiration of
colors, 207 ; color in the natural world
an evidence of God's goodness, 207 ;
figure an element of beauty, 207 ;
regularity pleasing, 207 ; variety pleas-
ing, 208 ; curved lines beautiful, 208 ;
motion a source of beauty, 208 ; com-
plex beauty, 209 ; beauty of counte-
nance, 209; moral beauty, 210; the
beautiful in writing, 210; beauty of
subject, 211; difference between the
beautiful and the scientific, 211 ;
beauty of expression, 21 1 ; concise-
ness not necessary to beauty, 211.
Beecher, Henry Ward, specimen of wit,
214.
Behest, 74.
Belittling comparisons, 161 ; details,
203.
Besides and except confounded, 80.
Bible, and other words intended to desig-
nate it, require a capital, 67 ; exam-
ple of metaphor, 179, 180, 184, 185 ; per-
sonification, 179, 187; climax, 182;
interrogation, 183; simile, 185; Eng-
lish Bible, the best specimen of pure
English, 876.
Biography, 298.
Blackmore, Sir Richard, description of
volcano, 204.
Blair? remarks on synonyms, 84 ; on
position of adverbs, 105 ; on supple-
mentary clauses, 128 ; on omission of
connectives, 134; on letter-writing,
274; on historical composition, 294.
Blank verse, 237, 238 ; not always iam-
bic or pentameter, 237.
Boker, instance of euphony, 141 ; sound
adapted to sense, 144, 145 ; example of
alliteration, 233 ; Song of the Earth,
specimen of blank verse not iambic
or pentameter, 237; specimen of mixed
verse in Ivory-Carver, 240 ; specimens
of versification, 253-255.
Bonar, a hymn writer, 269.
382
INDEX.
Brace, in punctuation, 61.
Brackets, 56, 57 ; different from paren-
thesis, 56 ; relations of brackets, pa-
rentheses, dashes, and commas, 56 ;
use in dictionaries, 57 ; use in critical
editions, 57 ; in plays, 57.
Bridge of Sighs, versification of, 231.
Britain, Great, its settlement and lan-
guage, 363, 364.
Browning, examples of ambiguity, 111 ;
metaphor, 187, 191.
Bryant, personification, 181 ; versifica-
tion, 257 ; Thanatopsis, 272.
Bugle Song, Tennyson, an instance of
sound adapted to sense, 146.
Bulwer, example of antithesis and sim-
ile, 170 ; metaphor, 189.
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, the best
allegory in all literature, 168 ; purity
of his English, 376.
Burlesque, similes intended for, 158, 160.
Burns, examples of sectional rhymes,
237; specimens of versification, 254;
as a writer of songs, 270.
Burton, Tom Flynn's bewilderment at
the misuse of he and his, 113.
By, distinguished from with, 86.
Byron, example of apostrophe, 175 ; met-
aphor, 190; description of thunder-
storm, 203; a passage from Byron
turned into prose, 220; example of
triple rhymes, 233 ; sectional rhymes,
237 ; wrote chiefly in the Spenserian
stanza, 241 ; example, 253 ; anapaestic
verse, 255.
Cadences, a name for accentual divi-
sions, 223.
Cossar, answer to the pilot, sublime, 202.
Calculated, used incorrectly, 83.
Camp6efl,George, his positions in regard
to Use as the law of language, 76 ; his
essay, 89-91; language should be a
transparent medium, 110.
Campbell, Thomas, example of anapaes-
tic verse, 252; Pleasures of Hope, 272.
Cant, 61.
Capitals, pp. 63-67 ; object of using them,
21 ; origin of the word, 21 ; history of
their use, 22 ; rules for use of capitals,
63-67 ; use of capitals in works of de-
votion, 65.
Captions, 62.
Carelessness, in letter-writing, 275.
Case, vocative and absolute, requires
comma, 34.
Cat and Rabbit, described, as an exer-
cise in composition, 336.
Cataracts, sublime, 199.
Catch, used incorrectly, 83.
Cedilla, 62.
Celtic, peoples and languages, 356 ; Celtic
migrations, 363 ; conflict of Celts and
Saxons, 365, 366.
Censure, meaning changed, 79.
Change of Subject impairs the unity
of a sentence, 125.
Channing, examples of periodic sen-
tence, 95.
Chaucer, inventor of the rhythm-royal,
240 ; high character of his verse, 247.
Chester, origin of the word, 364.
Classic verse, different from English,
238.
Claud tan, sublime passage spoiled by
belittling details, 204.
Clauses, intermediate, 26; dependent,
27; relative, 28; co-ordinate, 30; in-
verted, 34 ; having a common depend-
ence, 37; clause additional, 38; ad-
verbial position of, 106; qualifying
clauses, how to be disposed of, 119;
relative clauses, 126; parenthetical,
127; supplementary, 128.
Clearness, of sentences, rule on the sub-
ject, 104; order of words important, 104;
clearness hindered by wrong position
of adverbs, 104 ; Blair's remark, 105.
Clergymen, etiquette in addressing
them, 281.
Clerk, meaning changed, 79.
Climax, adds to the strength of a sen-
tence, 137 ; climax of sentences, 138 ;
poor climaxes, 138.
Close of a sentence, rules for its manage-
ment, 143, 144.
Cobbett, misuse of it, 112.
Coining new words, 73, 74.
Coleridge, example of sectional rhyme,
236.
Collins, Odes, 269.
Colon, pp. 39-42.
Color, a source of beauty, 207 ; how far
influenced by association, 207.
INDEX.
383
Columbus, composition on him by a boy
of nine, 323.
Comedy, 267 ; comic songs, 270.
Comma, pp. 23-35 ; origin of the word,
23 ; meant at first a portion of a sen-
tence, 23; rules for its use, 24-35;
double commas, 62.
Commenced, used incorrectly, 83.
Common metre, formula given, 242.
Complete, how differing from whole,
entire, total, 86.
Complex beauty, 209; the most com-
plete example in a landscape, 209.
Complex sentences, when requiring a
colon, 40.
Composing (as a printer's term), 63.
Compositions on Objects, 308-311 ; on
Transactions, 312-314; on Abstract
Subjects, 315-317 ; on Imaginary Sub-
jects, 318-325; Personal Narratives,
326-334; Descriptions, 335-340; Mis-
cellaneous, 341-346.
Concede, capability, criminality, conti-
nental, 74; cable-gram, cable-graph,
75.
Conception, vivid, necessary to sublim-
ity in writing, 202.
Conciseness, necessary to the sublime,
204 ; not necessary to beauty, 211.
Conclusion, bringing a sentence to, 135.
Confess, how differing from avow and
acknowledge, 85.
Confidence, used incorrectly, 83.
Connectives, effect of their omission, 134.
Consider, used incorrectly, 83.
Construe and construct confounded, 81.
Contagion,how differing from infection,
86.
Contempt, an ingredient in humor, 217.
Contemptible, for contemptuous, 80.
Contractions, in addressing letters, 275,
282.
Contrasts, fault j, IS7) contrasted changes
give strength, 137.
Cookery, its terms nearly all French, 377.
Cornish, race and language, 356.
Correspond, used incorrectly, 82.
Correspondence (see Letter-writing),
274.
Countenance, the beauty of, 209 ; what
constitutes beauty of countenance,
210.
County, when to be given in heading or
in superscription of a letter, 276-282.
Couple, used for two, 83.
Couplet, defined, 226.
Cowley, far-fetched simile, 159.
Cowper, example of metaphor, 189;
Task, 272.
Crabbe's Dictionary of Synonyms, 84.
Crowding together things unconnected,
impairs the unity of a sentence, 125.
Crusoe, Robinson, his adventures inca-
pable of forming an epic, 265.
Curran, sample of pun, 215.
Curves, an element of beauty, 208.
Cyclops and Vulcan, 199.
Cymric, languages and peoples, 356.
Dactyl, 127 \ dactylic verse, 227-231 ; dac-
tylic metres for hymns, how desig-
nated, 245, 246.
Danish, invasion, its effect on the lan-
guage, 367.
Darkness, sublime when inspiring awe,
200.
Dash, 49-53; origin and how used, 49;
mistake of careless writers in the use
of the dash, 50 ; marks change of con-
struction, or of sentiment, 50; em-
phatic generalization, 50; elocution-
ary pause, 50 ; rhetorical repetition,51;
parenthetical, 52; titles run in, 52;
omissions, question and answer, etc.,
53.
Date, in letter-writing, 276 ; in diary, 284.
Decimated, used incorrectly, 82.
Demean, used incorrectly, 82.
Dependent clauses, explained, 27 ; re-
quire commas, 27.
Descriptions, as an exercise in compo-
sition, 335-340; taking notes impor-
tant, 335 ; rules to be observed, 336 ;
examples, 336-340.
Diaries, 283; essential character, 283;
style, 283; dates, important, 284;
blank days, 284.
Dickens, a humorist, 219 ; specimen of
verse, 260.
Diction, 71-91 ; command of words im-
portant, 71; how obtained, 71; en-
larged by extemporaneous transla-
tion, 71 ; by the habit of referring to
the dictionary, 72 ; diction, when pure,
384
INDEX.
72 ; standard of purity, 72 ; purity af-
fected by foreign words, 72 ; by obso-
lete words, 73 ; by new words, 74 ; pro-
priety of diction, 78; means of at-
taining it, 79 ; violations of propriety,
80, 81 ; precision, 83 ; how attained,
83,84.
Dictionary, habit of consulting it rec-
ommended, 72.
Didactic poetry, 272.
Difficulty, how differing from obstacle,
84.
Dimeter, 227, 231.
Directly, used incorrectly, 81.
Discourse, defined, 17.
Discourses, 301; orations, 301; ad-
dresses, 301; sermons, 302; lectures,
302; speeches, 302; unity of a dis-
course, 303; adaptation to the audi-
ence, 303 ; symmetry, 304 ; parts of a
discourse,304 ; introduction, 304 ; state-
ment, 304; conclusion or peroration,
305.
Discover, different from invent, 86.
D'Israeli, adverbial clause misplaced,
107.
Doane, Bishop, abounds in short sen-
tences, 10L
Doddridge, a hymn writer, 269.
Dramatic poetry, abounds in exclama-
tions, 174; general description, 266-
268. (See Poetry.)
Dry den, mixed metaphor, 164; meta-
phor, 180, 184; simile, 183, 184; tro-
chaics in St. Cecilia's Day, 228 ; his
verse compared with that of Milton
and Chaucer, 247 ; specimen of verse,
257 ; odes, 269.
Dwight, a hymn writer, 269.
Earthquakes, sublime, 199.
East India Company, the means of
linguistic research, 354.
Edified, how used by Spenser, 79.
Editorials, 287; a high order of com-
position, 287; not impersonal truth,
287 ; editor's estimate of his own po-
sition as a public teacher, 287 ; differ-
ence between editorials and news, 288.
Education, a source of corruption to the
language, 371.
Elegy, 270. (See Poetry.)
Elision, in verse, 248; mistake of the
older critics in regard to it, 249 ; eli-
sion not necessary, 249.
Ellipsis of verb, requires comma, 35.
Elocution, its pauses not marked by the
grammatical points, 22 ; elocutionary
pause marked by a dash, 50 ; elocution
aided by a proper arrangement of the
sentences, 120.
Emerson, The Mountain and the Squir-
rel, as a specimen of wit, 214.
Emphasis, sentences should be con-
structed with reference to emphasis,
117.
English language, essay on it, 351-
379 ; true place of English in general
philology, 353; occupation of Eng-
land by successive races, 363-367;
origin and composition of the lan-
guage, 363-379.
English verse, accentual, not syllabic,
247.
Enough, distinguished from sufficient,
86.
Entire, distinguished from whole, total,
complete, 86.
Epic poetry, 263-266. (See Poetry.)
Epigram, origin and meaning, 171 ; re-
lation to antithesis, 171; examples,
171, 191, 193.
Epitaph, 271.
Epithets, used incorrectly, 82.
Essays, 291; how differing from re-
views, 291 ; number of essayists, 291 ;
present mode of publication, 291;
Whipple.Tuckerman, and Lowell, 292.
Etiquette, in addressing a letter, 281.
Etymology, study recommended, 72.
Euphony, construction of sentences
with reference to it, 140-142.
Euripides, 267.
Evacuate, used incorrectly, 82.
Evangeline, Longfellow's, its versifica-
tion, 238.
Every, used incorrectly, 83.
Example, distinguished from instance,
87.
Except, used for unless, 80.
Exceptionable, for exceptional, 82.
Excite, distinguished from incite, 86.
Exclamation, as a figure of speech, 173 ;
akin to interrogation, 173 ; caution in
INDEX.
385
regard to the use of it, 174 ; relation
to apostrophe, 174.
Exclamation point, 47, 48 ; 0 and oh,
48 ; double exclamations, 48.
Expect, used incorrectly, 83.
Expression, beauty of, 211 ; things in-
compatible with beauty of expression,
212.
Expressions, parenthetical, 24; inter-
mediate, 26.
Explicit, express, distinguished, 86.
Faber, as a hymnist, 269.
Fable, akin to allegory and parable, 167 ;
where found, 168.
Faerie Queene, an allegory, 168 ; writ-
ten in the Spenserian stanza, 241.
Falstaff, incompatible with epic char-
acter, 265.
Farce, 268.
Far-fetched similes, 159.
Fashion, its terms mostly French, 377.
Fear, composition on it, 315.
Feet, name for accentual divisions, 223 ;
foot defined, 226; different kinds of
feet, 226.
Fellowship, used incorrectly, 82.
Fero and bear, the stem of these words
a prolific source of words, 360-362.
Fiction, its prevalence, 298 ; kinds, 299 ;
historical novels, 299; appeal to cu-
riosity, 299 ; delineation of character,
300 ; effect of novel-reading, 300 ; re-
ligious fiction, 300.
Figure, (mathematical,) a source of
beauty, 208; what kind of figures
pleasing, 208.
Figures, (rhetorical,) 154-196; relation of
figures to diction and sentences, 154 ;
definition, 154; tropes, 155; origin of
figures, 156; simile, 157; metaphor,
162; allegory, 167; antithesis, 169 ; epi-
gram, 171 ; metonymy, 171 ; synecdo-
che, 172 ; interrogation, 173 ; excla-
mation, 173 ; apostrophe, 174 ; person-
ification, 175; hyperbole, 177; irony,
178 ; effect of undue use of figures, 166.
Fine Arts, poetry one of them, 263.
Fir e~wor shippers, ancient inhabitants
of Persia, 356.
Firmament, an instance of the sublime,
199.
33
Flirtation, peculiarity of the word, 74.
Folio, 63.
Forbes, Professor, a beautiful example
of scientific allegory, 168.
Foreign words, not to be used unnec-
essarily, 72; may become domesti-
cated, 73.
Formidably, used incorrectly, 82.
JPraMfeMn,Benjamin,samplesofpun,214.
Frenchified diction, 73.
French writers use short sentences, 101.
Frontispiece, 62.
Gaelic languages, 356.
Gay, personification, 182 ; metaphor, 190.
Gentle most agreeable, 208.
Gerald Massey. (See Massey.)
German writers use long sentences, 101.
Germanic languages, 357.
Ghosts inspire awe because of their ob-
scurity, 201.
Gibbon, use of Latin words, 376.
Glacier, allegorical description of one,
168.
God, names and attributes to begin with
a capital, 65 ; his goodness shown by
the beauty of color in the natural
world, 207.
Golden Legend, Longfellow's, a speci-
men of mixed verse, 239.
Goldsmith, metaphor, 190 ; simile, 190 ;
Madame Blaize, 213.
Gospels, sublimity of them, 205.
Got , example of its misuse, 81.
Gothic languages and peoples, 357.
Gould, Edward S., on good English, 352.
Governor, how to be addressed, 281.
Grammar, related to rhetoric, 17, 18;
derives its authority from use, 89.
Gray, metaphor, 190 ; versification, 259 ;
odes, 269 ; Elegy, 271.
Greatness, moral, sublime, 201.
Greek language, 357; proportion of
Greek words in English, 373.
Greeks and Latins, greater variety of
feet, 227; Greek verse syllabic, not
accented, 247.
Habit of punning, bad, 216 ; habit of
being witty, dangerous, 216.
Hallam, pronoun misplaced, 112.
Halleck, specimen of versification, 255.
386
INDEX.
Hallelujah metre, formula given, 244.
Hammers. (See Steam.)
Hand, (printer's term,) 61.
Harmony of sentences, 140-146 ; pro-
moted by proper choice of words, 140 ;
by arrangement of the words, 141 ;
by accents at convenient intervals,
142 ; by cadence at the close, 143 ; by
adapting the sound to the sense, 144.
Hawtrey, best specimen extant in Eng-
lish hexameter, 239.
Heading of a letter, 275, 276.
Heaviness, how differing from weight, 85.
Heber, example of simile, 193 ; specimen
of dactylic verse, 231 ; a hymn, 251 ;
as a hymnist, 269.
Hebrew once supposed to be the fountain
of all languages, 353.
Hellenic languages, 357.
Heptameter, 227.
Hero, of the epic, 265 ; heroic odes, 269.
Hexameter, 227, 231 ; fine specimens,
239, 240.
Hiawatha, Longfellow's, its versifica-
tion, 238.
Hindoo epigram, 213.
History, 293; general character, 294;
unity of subject, 294; complex sub-
jects, 295; chronological order, 295;
qualities of historical composition,
295; keeping up the connection of
events, 295; dulness co be avoided,
296 ; gravity of style, 296 ; delineation
of characters, 297 ; sound morals to be
enforced, 297 ; relation to annals, me-
moirs, and biography, 298.
Holland, example of metaphor, 165, 195 ;
simile, 195.
Holmes, examples of simile, 193 ; a hu-
morist, 219.
Homer** Iliad, one of the three great
epics, 263.
Hood, specimens of pun, 215 ; a humorist,
219 ; versification of Bridge of Sighs,
231 ; specimen of verse, 258.
Hook, specimen of pun, 215.
Horace, his dictum in regard to new
words, 76; as a writer of odes, 270;
Art of Poetry a didactic poem, 272.
Home Tooke. (See Tooke.)
Hugo, Victor, excessive use of antithe-
sis, 170.
Humanitarian, used incorrectly, 82.
Humor, how far like wit, 217; incon-
gruity an element of humor, 217;
surprise, 217 ; contempt an ingredient
in humor, 217; humor something
characteristic, 218 ; humor kindly, 219.
Hymns, 228; abound in exclamation,
174; a species of lyric poetry, 269;
Latin rhyming hymns, 232; construc-
tion of the hymn stanzas, 242 ; long,
short, common, particular, hallelujah
metres, etc., 242-246; nomenclature
proposed for the 8's, 7's, etc., 245.
Hyperbole, 177 ; explanation, 177 ; cau-
tion in regard to the use of hyperbole,
177; hyperbole of the imagination
distinguished from that of passion,
177; school-girl hyperbole, 178; ex-
ample from Young, 190.
Iambus, 227 ; iambic verse, 227, 229;
blank verse usually iambic, 237.
Iliad, Homer's, one of the three great
epics of the world, 263.
Imaginary Subjects for compositions,
318-322.
Imagination, necessity of an excited
and a creative imagination in order
to the production of poetry, 262.
Impulse, vocal, 222 ; the origin of sylla-
bles, 222; strong and light impulses,
222 ; time between impulses, 222.
Inaugurate, used incorrectly, 82.
Incite, distinguished from excite, 86.
Incongruity, an element of humor, 217.
Index, (printer's term,) 61.
India, its language, 354-356.
Indo-European, family of languages,
358.
Infection, different from contagion,
86.
Inflexible, different from inexorable,
83.
Tngelow, Jean, example of metaphor, 192.
Initials, the inconvenience of signing
the initials only of one's first name,
278.
Insolent, how used by Milton, 79.
Instance, distinguished from example,
87.
Intensify, coined by Coleridge, 73;
idiom, ignore, 74 ; ivorytype, 75.
INDEX.
387
Intermediate expressions, different
from restrictive clauses, 26; require
commas, 26.
Interrogation point, 46, 47; when to
be followed by a capital, and when
not, 46; interrogation as a figure of
speech, 173; peculiarities, 173; akin
to exclamation, 173; example from
Bible, 183.
Invent, different from discover, 86.
Invention, a division of rhetoric, why-
treated last, 18; defined, 306; mistake
of the older writers in regard to in-
vention, 306 ; its true office, 307 ; com-
parative importance, 307 ; how treated
in this book, 307.
Inversion, sometimes useful in making
a sentence emphatic, 118; inversion
produced by using "there" and "it,"
118.
Invite, used incorrectly, 82.
Iranic, languages, 356.
Irish, or Erse, language, 357.
Irony, a figure of speech, 178, 179 ; ex-
amples, 178, 179, 192.
Irving, instance of harmonious sen-
tences, 144; a humorist, 219; his skill
in the use of words, 378.
Italic, languages, 357.
Italics, 62; marking emphatic words
with italics, 120.
Japhetic, family of languages, 358.
Jesus Christ, the sublimity of his utter-
ances, 205.
Johnson, example of balanced sentence,
94; harmonious sentence, 143; his
Latinized diction, 375.
Junius, example of balanced sentence,
99; metaphors, 164
Ken, a writer of hymns, 269.
Kill, how different from murder and
assassinate, 85.
Kindness, characteristic of humor and
of the humorists, 219.
Kingly, how differing from regal and
royal, 86.
lady of the Lake, versification of, 231.
Iamb, a humorist, 219.
lampoon, 272.
language, Use the law of, 89 ; essay on
the English language, 351-379.
Latham, on the English language, 352,
366.
Latin, languages, 357 ; migrations of the
Latin race, 357 ; effect of the study
of Latin on English, 371, 372; propor-
tion of Latin words in the English,
373, 374 ; Latinizing tendencies of the
language, 372-376 ; classification of
the Latin-English words, 374.
Latins and Greeks used greater va-
riety of feet than we do, 227 ; Latin
rhyming hymns, 232 ; Latin verse syl-
labic, not accentual, 247.
Lays, Macaulay's, peculiarity of the
verse, 228.
Leaders, (printer's term), 62.
Leads, (printer's term,) 63.
Lectures, 302.
Lee, F. G., specimen of verse, 260.
Leibnitz, first shook the old theory of
language, 353.
Letters, 273-283; letter-writing an im-
portant part of composition, 273;
variety of style requnou, 273; Blair's
recommendations, 274 ; correspond-
ence, 274; letters of distinguished
persons, 274; what is required in a
letter, 274 ; what letters are best, 275 ;
carelessness in letters, 275 ; forms re-
quired, 275; the heading, 275, 276;
the street, number, state, etc., 275;
contractions, 275 ; reasons for particu-
larity, 276 ; the date, 276 ; form of the
heading, 276 ; the address, 277 ; mili-
tary form, 277; form for ordinary
letters, 277 ; for business letters, 278 ;
the subscription, 278,280; inconven-
ience of signing the initials only of
one's first name, 278 ; sex, how to be
distinguished in the signature to a
letter, 279 ; married women and wid-
ows, their signatures, 279 ; terms of
endearment in a signature, 279; ar-
rangement of the signature, 279 ; ex-
amples, 279, 280 ; superscription, or ad-
dress of a letter, 280-283; why im-
portant, 280; penmanship in address-
ing a letter, 280 ; nicknames and fancy
names not allowable on the outside of
a letter, 280; professional titles, how
338
INDEX.
to be given in the address, 281 ; how
to address a clergyman, a governor,
a president, etc., 281, 282; how to ar-
range the items on the envelope, 282.
Like and as confounded, 80.
Likeness, how related to simile, 158.
Line, synonymous with verse, 226;
lengths of line, 226.
Linguistics, the newest of the sciences,
351 ; its scope, 351 ; recent works on
the subject, 352.
Linguistic studies enlarge one's vo-
cabulary, 71.
Lion, sublime, 200.
Liquidate, meaning changed, 79.
Liquid sounds, how far desirable, 140,
141.
Locomotive, an example of the sublime,
199; its shriek not sublime, 201.
Jjogic, related to rhetoric, 17, 18.
Longfellow, sound adapted to sense,
146 ; far-fetched simile, 160 ; metaphor,
191, 192, 194 ; Hiawatha, its versifica-
tion, 238 ; Evangeline, its versification,
238, 239 ; fine specimen of mixed verse,
in the Golden Legend, 239 ; examples
of versification, 254, 257, 258.
Longinus, his comment on the sublim-
ity of the first chapter of Genesis, 205.
Long metre, formula given, 242.
Loose sentences, 93 ; uses, 93 ; dangers,
93; examples from Milton, Macaulay,
and Trench, 94-96.
Lowell, James Russell, examples of meta-
phor, 180-187, 194, 195; a humorist,
219 ; Commemoration Ode, 269 ; as an
essayist, 292.
Lucid, luminous, how differing, 85.
Lucy Larcom, specimen of versifica-
tion, 250.
Lyric poetry, abounds in exclamations,
174; discussed, 268-270. (See Poetry.)
Macaulay, examples of periodic sen-
tences, 94; skill, in the management
of long periods, 124, 125; simile, 187;
lays in heptameter verse, 228 ; review
of Milton, 289.
Malice, malevolence, malignity, how dif-
fering, 85.
Married women, how to sign their
names in letter-writing, 279.
Marsh, Professor, recommends extem-
poraneous translation as a means of
extending one's command of words,
71; Lectures on the English Lan-
guage, 352.
Massey, Gerald, faulty metaphor, 165.
Mathematical figures, how far con-
sistent with beauty, 208.
Matinee, afternoon (?), 82.
Meditative poetry, 272.
Melodrama, 268.
Memoirs, how related to history and
biography, 298.
Memory, outline for composition on it,
317.
Metaphor, 162-166; difference between
metaphor and simile, 162 ; effective-
ness of metaphor, 162 ; rules common
to metaphor and simile, 163; meta-
phorical and literal should not be
mixed, 164; examples of metaphor,
164; mixed metaphors, 165; crowded
metaphors, 165; straining the meta-
phor, 166; difference between meta-
phor and allegory, 166; examples
from Joanna Baillie, 190; Bible, 179,
180, 184; Browning, Mrs., 187, 191;
Bulwer, 189; Byron, 190; Cowper, 189;
Dryden, 180, 183; Goldsmith, 190;
Gray, 190; Holland, 195; Jean Inge-
low, 192; Longfellow, 191, 192, 194;
Lowell, 180-188, 194, 195; Milton, 189,
190; Moore, 189; Pope, 182; Shake-
speare, 179, 182, 187, 189, 190, 193 ; Ten-
nyson, 196 ; Tribune, N. Y., 179 ; Whit-
tier, 188; Willis, 192; Young, 180, 181,
182, 188.
Metonymy, 171; kinds of metonymy
with examples, 172, 191.
Metres, psalms and hymns, mode of des-
ignating them, 242-246.
Metrical chronicle, 266.
Metrical romance, akin to the epic, 266.
Military form in addressing letters,
277.
Milton, examples of periodic sentence,
92, 93; instance of euphony, 142;
prose writings rhythmical, 143; sound
adapted to sense, 145; similes, 157,
159; metaphor, 181; personification,
181; metaphor, 189; simile, 190; sub-
lime description, 204; Paradise Lost
INDEX.
389
in blank verse, 237 ; a better rhyth-
niist than Pope and Dryden, 247 ; ex-
ample of versification, 254; Paradise
Lost one of the three great epics of the
world, 263 ; Lycidas, an elegy, 271 ;
Macaulay's review of, 289.
Miracles of Christ sublime, 205.
Miscellaneous subjects for composition,
341-346.
Missionaries, English and American,
the means of linguistic research, 354.
Mixed verse, 238-240; English verse
compared with classic in regard to
mixed verse, 239.
Modern verse, distinguished from the
classic, 247, 248 ; requirements in re-
gard to elision, 249.
Monometer verse, 227, 231.
Montgomery, a hymn writer, 269.
Moon, criticism on Dean Alford, 113;
The Dean's English, 352.
Moon, Man in the Moon, compositions
on it, 319-322.
Moore, Thomas, metaphor, 189; exam-
ples of versification, 253, 258 ; a writer
of songs, 270.
Moral greatness, sublime, 201 ; exam-
ples, 202; moral beauty, 210; moral
odes, 269.
Motion, a source of beauty, 208.
Mutter, Max, Works on the Science of
Language, 352.
Murder, how differing from hill and
assassinate, 85.
Mutual, used improperly for common, 80.
Names, how to be given in addressing
letters, 281.
Napoleon, reference to the pyramids,
sublime, 203.
Narratives, personal, an exercise in
composition, 326; examples, 326-334.
National use of words, as opposed to
local, 76.
Neither, used incorrectly, 82.
News, 284 ; literary character of news-
writing, 284; things to be aimed at by
the news-writer, 285; accuracy, 285;
condensation, 286; perspicuity, 286;
news different from other reading, 286.
Newton, a hymn writer, 269.
Night, awful, 200.
33*
Norman invasion, its effects on the lan-
guage, 368-370.
Norton, Mrs., specimen of versification
and stanza, 258.
Notes, to be taken on the spot, when we
wish to describe, 335.
Numbers, represented by capital letters,
64; a name for accentual divisions,
Objects, compositions on, 308.
Obscurity, an element of the sublime,
200.
Obsolete words, rule in regard to them,
73.
Obstacle, how differing from difficulty,
84.
Occasion, opportunity, how differing,
85.
Octave, the major division of the sonnet,
242.
Only, how differing from alone, 85.
Opera, 74, 268.
Orations, 301.
Oratory, not included in this work, 17.
Ossian, simile, 158 ; metaphor, 164.
Outline, the preparation of one neces-
sary in beginning to write composi-
tions, 308 ; specimens of outlines, 308,
310, 312, 314, 315, 317.
Outsider, when coined, 73.
Pale, pallid, wan, how differing, 85.
Palmer, Ray, as a hymnist, 269.
Paper, composition on, 309.
Parable, akin to allegory and fable, 167 ;
where found, 168.
Paradise Lost, one of the three great
epics of the world, 263.
Paradox, apparent, in the effect of con-
junctions, 134.
Paragraph, 61.
Parallelism of the Hebrew poetry, 100.
Parenthesis, 54-56 ; different from par-
enthetical expression, 24; origin of
the word, 54 ; difference between pa-
renthesis and marks of p., 54 ; danger
in using parenthetical clauses, 127;
Blair's opinion of them, 127.
Parenthetical expressions,exp\a.medt
24 ; requiring a comma, 24 ; requiring
dashes, 52.
390
INDEX.
Parker, Archbishop, example of section-
al rhyme, 236.
participial construction, how em-
ployed in producing emphasis, 119.
Pastoral poetry, 271. (See Poetry.)
Pedantry in the use of foreign words,
72.
Pell-mell, used incorrectly, 82.
Penmanship, in addressing a letter,
280.
Pentameter, 227, 231 ; blank verse usual-
ly pentameter, 237.
Period, 42-45; derivation and meaning
of the word, 42 ; used after abbrevia-
tions, 43 ; per cent., or per cent, 44 ; use
of parenthesis in reporting speeches,
55 ; in scientific enumerations, 55 ; re-
quires a capital after it, 64.
Periodic sentence, 92; example from
Temple, 92 ; from Milton, 93.
Peroration, 305.
Persia, its ancient inhabitants and lan-
guage, 356.
Persians, prevalence of rhyme, 233.
Personal narratives, as exercises in
composition, 326 ; examples, 326-334.
Personification, distinguished from
apostrophe, 175; special facilities in
English for personification, 175 ; vari-
ous kinds and degrees of it, 175, 176 ;
example from Bible, 180 ; from Bry-
ant, 181 ; from Milton, 181 ; Bible, 187.
Perspicuity, importance of, 111.
Phrases, when parenthetical, 24, 25.
Piers Ploughman, example of alliter-
ative verse, 233.
Pilgrim's Progress, the most perfect
allegory in literature, 168.
Pindar, odes, 269.
Plagiarism, what it is, 58.
Please, the primary object of poetry, to
please, 262.
Poe, sound adapted to sense, 146 ; versifi-
cation of the Raven, 229, 259.
Poetry, punctuation of, 65 ; Hebrew, 100 ;
different from verse, 220; poetical
form more pleasing than the prose
form for the same thought, 220, 221 ;
poetry differs from prose in the
greater perfection of its rhythm, 224 ;
more general term than verse, 225;
defective definitions of poetry, 225;
difference between poetry and what
is poetical, 261 ; verse indispensable to
poetry, 261 ; when any composition is
poetical in essence, 261 ; poetical dis-
tinguished from prosaic, 262; origin
of the word poet, 262 ; definition of
poetry, 263 ; relation to the other arts,
263; epic poetry, 263-266 ; high char-
acter of the epic, 263; the subject
should be great, 263 ; unity of the epic,
264 ; method of narration in the epic,
264 ; the epic must have a hero, 265 ;
must have a plot, 265 ; must be serious,
265 ; must have a story, 265 ; metrical
romances near akin to the epic, 266 ;
dramatic poetry, 266-268 ; likeness to
epic, 266 ; dramatic unities, 266, 267 ;
acts and scenes, 267; tragedy and
comedy, 267 ; Greek dramatists, 267 ;
Shakespeare, the greatest of drama-
tists, 268; farce, opera, melodrama,
268; lyric poetry, 268-270 ; lyric poe-
try the oldest kind in every nation,
268; differing from epic, 268; odes,
268-270 ; sacred odes, 269 ; psalms and
hymns, 269 ; hymn writers, 269; heroic
odes, 269; comic songs, 270; Baccha-
nalian songs, 270 ; sonnets, 270 ; elegy,
270 4 epitaph, 271; pastoral poetry,
271 ; Theocritus and Virgil, 271 ; Spen-
ser's Shepherds' Calendar, 271; ec-
logues, 271 ; idyls, 271 ; didactic poe-
try, 272; poe.'ry less affected with
Latin isms than prose, 376.
Polysyndeton, 134.
Pope, Alexander, his rule in regard to
use of new words, 75 ; balanced sen-
tences, 98; inversion, 118; sound
adapted to sense, 145 ; belittling sim-
ile, 161; mixed metaphor, 164; meta-
phor, 182; simile, 189; alliU'iation,
233; mistake in regard to the, true
genius of English verse, 248; 6BMy
on criticism, an example of didactic
poetry, 272 ; Essay on Man, meditative
poetry, 272.
Posture of devotion, how differing from
attitude, 84.
Pouring, more precise than turning
out, 83.
Power, an element of the sublime, 199 ;
a locomotive and train as an example
INDEX.
391
of power, 199; steam-hammers, 199;
various natural objects, 199, 200 ; the
war-horse, 200.
Precision of diction, 83-88 ; meaning of
the term, 83 ; examples of words not
used precisely, 83 ; precision promoted
by use of synonyms, 84
Predicate, principal p. in the sentence,
the place for it, 117, 120; skill in dis-
posing of the principal predicate im-
portant in elocution, 120.
Predicate, used for predict, 80; for
founded, 82 ; for presage, 83.
Preposition,ending a sentence with, 136.
■Present use of a word, as opposed to
obsolete, 76.
President, true etiquette in addressing
him, 282.
Prevent, meaning changed, 79.
Procter, Adelaide, specimen of verse, 256.
Professional titles, in addressing let-
ters, 281.
Promise, used incorrectly, 82.
Pronouns, misplacement of them causes
ambiguity, 112-114.
Proper names require capitals, 65, 66.
Propriety of diction, 78-83.
Prose, less rhythmic than poetry, 224;
prose composition, 273-305; letters,
273-283 ; diaries, 283, 284 ; news, 284-
287 ; editorials, 287, 288 ; reviews, 288-
291; essays, 291, 292; treatises, 292;
travels, 293 ; history, 293-297 ; annals,
297 ; memoirs, 298 ; biography, 298 ; fic-
tion, 298-300 ; discourses, 301-305.
Provoke, how used formerly, 79.
Pruning, needed, 132; striking out
" very," etc., 133.
Psalms and hymns, the construction
of their stanzas, 242 ; long, short, com-
mon, particular metres, etc., 243-246 ;
a part of lyric poetry, 269.
Punctuation, 21-63 ; defined, 21 ; origin
of the word, 21 ; invented by Aldus
Manutius, 21 ; points used for gram-
matical rather than elocutionary pur-
poses, 22 ; list of the points, 22, 23.
Purity of diction, 72-78.
Pyramids, Napoleon's reference to
them sublime, 203.
Quatrain, defined, 226.
Questions, when to be followed by an
interrogation point, and when not,
46 ; question and answer followed by
dash, 53 ; when to begin with a capi-
tal, 64.
Quintilian, rule about ambiguity, 110.
Quotations, 58, 61 ; short quotations re-
quire comma, 35; quotations, when
preceded by a colon, 40 ; rule for the
use of quotations, 58; use of single
commas instead of double in quoting,
59; plagiarism, 58; quotation inside
of another quotation, 59; quotation
marks at the beginning of every line
discouraged, 60; quotation, when to
begin with a capital, 64.
Rabbit and Cat, described, as an ex-
ercise in composition, 336.
Head, T. Buchanan, Sheridan's Ride a
specimen of mixed verse, 240.
Recommend, used incorrectly, 82.
Redundancy, effect of, 131 ; source of,
132 ; danger in the opposite direction,
132.
Regal, royal, kingly, how distin-
guished, 86.
Regularity of figure pleasing, 207.
Relative clauses, require comma, 28;
danger of making the sentence com-
plicated, 127; how to be prevented,
127.
Relative pronouns, often improperly
omitted, 132.
Religious fiction, 300.
Replace, peculiar use of the word, 81.
Reputable use of a word, as opposed to
vulgar, 76.
Resent, meaning changed, 79.
Residence, how to be given in address-
ing a letter, 282.
Respectively for respectfully, 81.
Restrictive clauses distinguished from
intermediate, 26 ; distinguished from
relative, 28, 29.
Reviews, 288; description of a review,
288; Macaulay's review of Milton,
289; other reviewers, 290 ; Edinburgh
Review, 291.
Rhetoric, defined, 17 ; related to gram-
mar and logic, 18; divisions, 18; com-
pared to architecture, 197.
392
INDEX.
Rhyme, 231-237; origin of rhyme, 231;
Latin rhymes, 232 ; etymology of the
word, 232; definition of rhyme, 232;
location of rhyme, 232 ; single, double,
etc., 233; rhyme at beginning of a
word, 233 ; conditions of rhyme, 234 ;
* ..usual place of the rhyme, 236; sec-
tional rhyme, 237.
Rhythm, on what it depends, 224 ; ex-
ists in both prose and poetry, 224;
difference between prose and poetry
as to rhythm, 225 ; a source of pleas-
ure, 224; definition of rhythm, 225;
requirements of modern verse in re-
gard to rhythm, 249.
Rhythm-royal, the Chaucerian stanza,
its construction explained, 240.
Right, used incorrectly, 82.
Rogers's Pleasures of the Memory, 272.
Roget, Thesaurus of English Words, use-
ful in studying synonyms, 84.
Rollo, invasion and settlement of Nor-
mandy, 369.
Roman, migrations of the race, 363 ; set-
tlement in Spain, Gaul, and Britain,
363, 364 ; words left in Britain by the
early conquest, 364.
Romance, metrical, 266.
Running titles, 62.
Sanscrit, its discovery by Europeans,
354; the linguistic theory to which it
has given rise, 355.
Satire, 272.
Savage races, addicted to the use of
figures, 155.
Saoce, a humorist, 219 ; specimen of ver-
sification, 256, 259.
Saxon alliterative verse, 233. (See
Anglo-Saxon.)
Scandinavian languages, 357.
Scenes in dramatic poetry, 267.
Scheie de Vere, Studies in English, 352.
Scholarship, a means of corrupting the
language, 372.
Scientific, how differing from the beau-
tiful, 211.
Scott, Sir Walter, versification of the
boat-song in Lady of the Lake, 231 ;
examples of double rhymes, 233 ; sec-
tional rhymes, 236; his metrical ro-
Sculptor, 74 ; sentimental, 74.
Section, used incorrectly, 83.
Semicolon, pp. 36-39; word explained, 36.
Sentences, 92-153; periodic, 92; loose,
93 ; balanced, 98 ; short and long, 100 ;
rules for the construction of sen-
tences, 104 ; clearness, 104 ; emphasis,
117; unity, 123; strength, 131; har-
mony, 140; long sentences, how to
maintain their unity, 124 ; sometimes
to be broken into several, 126.
Sermons, 302.
Sestette, a division of the sonnet, 242.
Settle, used incorrectly, 82.
Sex, how to be distinguished in the sig-
nature to a letter, 279.
Shaftesbury, example of misplaced ad-
verb, 105 ; example of skilful construc-
tion, 121.
Shakespeare, example of metaphor,
162, 163, 165, 182, 187, 189, 190 ; simile,
190, 192 ; sonnets punning on his own
name, 215 ; alliteration, 233 -r plays in
blank verse, 237 ; example of Chau-
cerian stanza, or rhythm-royal, 240;
freedom of his verse, 247 ; on poetical
imagination,262 ; the greatest of dram-
atists, 268; purity of his English, 376.
Shelley's Adonals, an elegy in the Spen-
serian stanza, 271.
Shemitic languages, 358.
Sheridan's Ride, T. B. Read, a speci-
men of mixed verse, 240.
/S/teWocfc,example of pronoun misplaced,
114.
Short and long sentences, 100-103;
rule on the subject, 101 ; difference
of French and German writers in
this respect, 101 ; Bishop Doane's short
sentences, 101.
Sighs, Bridge of, versification of, 231.
Signature to a letter, 278, 279.
Simile, 157-161 ; why similes please, 157 ;
burlesque similes, 158 ; object of sim-
ile, 158; mere likeness not simile,
158 ; example from Ossian, 158 ; rules
for simile, 159-161; likeness should
not be too near, 159 ; a likeness that
surprises, 159; trite similes, 159; s.
far-fetched, 159; likeness to things
with which common readers are un-
acquainted, 160; likeness to things
INDEX.
393
mean and low, 160 ; similes inappro-
priate to strong passion, 161 ; differ-
ence between s. and metaphor, 162
example of simile, from Bible, 185
Dryden, 183, 184; Goldsmith, 190
Heber, 193; Holland, 195; Holmes
193 ; Longfellow, 194 ; Macaulay, 187
Shakespeare, 182, 190, 192 ; Willis, 192
Simplicity necessary to the sublime, 204.
Slavonic languages, 357.
Solitude and silence inspire awe, 200.
Songs, a species of lyric, 269, 270.
Sonnet stanza, its construction ex-
plained, 241 ; a species of lyric, 270.
Sophocles, 268.
Sound, mere sound of words not to be
disregarded, 140 ; adapted to the sense,
144, 145 ; great variety of sound ad-
missible in the higher kind of har-
mony, 145; loudness of sound an ele-
ment of the sublime, 201.
Speeches, 302.
Spencer, Herbert, metaphor, 163.
Spenser, author of the Spenserian stan-
za, 241; freedom of his verse, 249
position of the Faerie Queene, 266
Hymns on Love and Beauty, 269
Shepherds' Calendar, 271.
Splitting particles, 133.
Squinting construction, 109.
Stanza, defined, 226, 240; Chaucerian
stanza, or rhythm-royal, 240 ; Spense-
rian stanza, 241 ; sonnet stanza, 241 ;
psalm and hymn stanzas, 242.
Starvation, when coined, 74.
State, care about contracting the name,
in heading and addressing a letter,
276, 282.
Station, how used by Shakespeare, 79.
Steam-hammers, an example of the
sublime, 199.
Stopping, used incorrectly, 82.
Story, a story needed as a main element
in the epic, but not in lyric, didactic,
pastoral, etc., 265.
Strength of Sentences, 131-140; af-
fected by redundant words, 131 ; by
the use of "very," etc., 133; by skill
in using the words of connection and
transition, 133 ; by the mode of bring-
ing to a conclusion, 135; by con-
trasted changes, 137 ; by climax, 137.
Style, a division of rhetoric, 18; why
treated before Invention, 18; origin
of the word, 19; relations of style to
invention, 20; topics included in style,
20 ; special properties of style, 197-219.
Subject, place of the principal s. in the
sentence, 117, 118 ; not necessarily the
grammatical subject, 117; important
for the emphasis, 118; change of s.
breaks the unity of sentence, 125;
subject of discourse should be beauti-
ful, 211.
Subjects for compositions, 310, 314,
317, 324, 334, 340, 342-346.
Sublimity, 198-206 ; how we get the idea
of sublimity, 198 ; how defined, 198 ;
elements of tae sublime : 1. vastness,
198 ; 2. power, 199 ; 3. awfulness, 200 ;
4. obscurity, 200 ; 5. loudness of sound,
201 ; 6. moral greatness, 201 ; the sub-
lime in writing, 202; sublimity of
subject, 202; vivid conception of
strong points, 203 ; suppression of be-
littling.details, 203 ; simplicity of ex-
pression, 204 ; sublimity destroyed by
use of too many words, 205 ; relation
of sublimity to beauty, 206.
Suffi,cientKdistinguished from enough,
86.
Suicide, 74.
Sunday-school story-books, 301.
Superscription or address of a letter,
280-283.
Supplementary clauses objectionable,
128 ; Blair on the subject, 128.
Surprise, an element in simile, 159 ; an
element of wit, 212; an element of
humor, 217.
Swift, example of misplaced adverb, 105 ;
adverbial clause misplaced, 107 ; mis-
placement of the relative pronoun,
114; want of unity, 123; sentence
with unconnected things crowded
together, 125 ; crowded metaphor, 165 ;
metaphor, 189.
Sydney Smith, illustrations of wit, 212 ;
advantages and disadvantagesof being
witty, 216, 217 ; observation on humor,
217 ; as a reviewer, 290.
Syllable, the measure of a vocal impulse,
222 ; syllabic verse distinguished from
accented, 247.
394
INDEX.
Synecdoche explained, 172.
Synonyms, the study of them promotes
precision, 84 ; character of the English
language in regard to synonyms, 84 ;
books on the subject, 84 ; English par-
ticularly favorable to synonyms, 378.
Taylor, B. F., specimen of verse, 257.
Teachers, notes to, 25, 44, 78, 81, 308, 310,
312, 314, 317, 318, 326.
Temple, Sir William, example of periodic
sentence, 92.
Tennyson, sound adapted to sense, 146;
example of metaphor, 196; Charge of
Light Brigade, versification of, 231;
example of sectional rhyme, 236 ; ex-
amples of versification, 253 ; Idyls of
the King, 266, 271 ; In Memoriam,.an
Elegy, 271.
Tetrameter, 227, 231.
Teutonic languages, 357.
Thackeray, a humorist, 219.
Theocritus, a pastoral poet, 271.
Thersites, in the Iliad, not inconsistent
with the epic, 265.
Tliomson's Seasons, 272.
TJioroughly, 73.
Thunder and TAghtninQ, sublime,
199; Byron's description of a thun-
der-storm, 203.
Tillotson,exa.m$le of pronoun misplaced,
113 ; inharmonious sentence, 143.
Time, an interval between local impulses,
222.
Timid, 74.
Title-pages, punctuation of, 40, 43.
Titles, in addressing letters, 280, 282.
TMes, punctuation of, 43, 52, 63, 64, 66.
Tooke, Home, example of pun, 215.
Total, distinguished from whole, en~
tire, complete, 86.
Tragedy, 267.
Transactions, compositions on, 312.
Translation, extemporaneous, useful
for acquiring command of words, 71.
Transpire, used incorrectly, 83.
Travelling, outline for composition on
it, 314.
Travels, 293; importance of accuracy, 293.
Treatises, 292; how differing from es-
says, 292 ; text-books, 292.
Trench, Archdeacon, on the Study of
Words, 352; examples of loose sen-
tences, 95, 96.
Tribune, example of metaphor, 179.
Trip from Philadelphia to Trenton, de-
scribed, 330.
Triplet, defined, 226.
Trite similes, 159.
Trochee, 227; trochaic verse, 227, 229;
trochaic metres for hymns, how desig-
nated, 245.
Tropes, how related to figures, 155.
Truism, used incorrectly, 83.
Tuckerman, as an essayist, 292.
Turning out, less precise than pour~
ing, 83.
Tusser, example of middle rhyme, 232 ;
sectional rhyme, 237.
Umbrella, 74.
Unity of sentence, 123-130; not incom-
patible with numerous details, 123;
injured by change of subject, 125; by
crowding together things uncon-
nected, 125 ; by relative clauses, 126 ;
by parenthesis, 127 ; by supplement-
ary clauses, 128; unity of an epic
poem, 264.
Unless and except, 80.
Use as the law of language, 76, 77 ; Camp-
bell's essay on the subject, 89-91;
reputable use, 89 ; national, 90 ; pres-
ent, 91.
Vacation, How I Spent it, several com-
positions on the subject, 326.
Variety of figures an element of beauty,
208.
Vastness, an element of the sublime,
198; vastness in a horizontal direc-
tion less sublime than the same ex-
tent upwards or downwards, 199 ; the
firmament an example of vastness
199.
Vedas, the ancient sacred book of the
Hindoos, 356.
Verb, ellipsis of, requires comma, 35.
Vernacular, 74.
Versification, 220-260; foundation of
verse, 220 ; the state of the question,
220; verse pleasing even in an un-
known language, 221 ; accent the par-
amount law of English verse, 223;
INDEX.
395
rhythm, what it is, 224 ; general divi-
sion of the subject, 225; rhythm, 225-
231 ; rhyme, 231-237 ; blank verse, 237 ;
mixed verse, 238-240 ; stanzas, 240-247;
modern verse accentual, not syllabic,
247, 248; elision, 248, 249; definition
of verse and of versification, 225, 226 ;
alliterative verse, 233; present state
of English verse, 248 ; mistake of Pope
and Dryden in regard to verse, 248 ;
requirements of modern verse in re-
gard to elision, 249.
Very, frequent use of, to be avoided, 133.
Virgil, eruption of Mount Vesuvius, 204 ;
the first line in Virgil, transposed into
prose, loses its pleasing effect upon the
ear, 221 ; effect of dactyls illustrated,
\ 238 ; the iEneid one of the three great
epics of the world, 263 ; Georgics an
example of didactic poetry, 272.
Vivid conception of strong points nec-
essary to sublime writing, 203.
Vocabulary, how enlarged, 71.
Vocal delivery, subject omitted, 17;
vocal impulse a necessary element in
pronunciation, 222.
Vocative case requires comma, 34.
Volcanoes, sublime, 199.
Vulcan and Cyclops, 199.
Waller, example of metaphor, 183.
Wan, how differing from pale and pallid,
85.
War-horse, a sublime object, 200.
Water, outline for composition on it, 310.
Watts, a hymn writer, 269.
Webster, Daniel, example of senatorial
eloquence, 262.
Webster's Quarto Dictionary, useful in
studying synonyms, 84.
Weight, how differing from heaviness, 85.
Welsh languages, 366, 367.
Wesley, a hymn writer, 269.
Whately, remark about the use of ital-
ics, 120 ; on the necessity of poetry's
being in verse, 261.
Wf tipple, as an essayist, 291.
White, Richard Grant, on Words and
their Uses, 352.
Wfiitney, Prof. M. D., on the Science of
Language, 352.
Whittier, instance of euphony, 142 ; met-
aphor, 188 ; Barbara Frietchie, a speci-
men of mixed verse, 240.
Whole, distinguished from entire, to-
tal, complete, 86.
Widows, their signatures, 279.
Willis, simile, 192.
Wit and humor, how different from
sublimity and beauty, 212 ; wit, 212-
217; ingredients of wit, 212; exam-
ples, 213 ; definition of wit, 213 ; illus-
trations, 213; pun a species of wit,
214 ; some celebrated puns, 214 ; Shake-
speare's punning sonnets, 215; habit
of punning, 216 ; habit of being witty,
216 ; its advantages and disadvantages,
216.
With, distinguished from by, 86.
Wards, command of, important, 71 ; for-
eign, 72 ; foreign w. domesticated, 73 ;
obsolete, 73 ; new, 73 ; suspended ani-
mation of words, 74; law of verbal
formation, 74, 75 ; safe plan in regard
to new words, 75 ; Pope's rule in re-
gard to new words, 75 ; words without
proper authority, 76 ; Horace's dictum
in regard to words, 76; Campbell's
positions in regard to use as the law
of language,76 ; abstract of Campbell's
essay on the subject, 89-91 ; propriety
of diction, 78 ; means of acquiring a
proper use of words, 79; meaning of
words changed, 79 ; words used im-
properly, examples of, 80, 81 ; words
not used precisely, 83 ; precision, how
obtained, 83 ; principal words in the
sentence not to be entangled, 121 ; re-
dundancy, 131, 132; words having a
harmonious sound, 140 ; arrangement
of words in reference to sound, 141, 142.
Wordsworth, fine example of personifi-
cation, 177.
Wyatt, Sir Thomas, introduced the son*
net into England, 270.
Young, example of antithesis, 170 ; met-
aphor, 180-182, 188; hyperbole, 190;
Night Thoughts, 272.
Zend, the ancient language of Persia,
356 ; Zend-Avesta, 356.
Zoroasters, the ancient inhabitants of
Persia, 356.
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