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PRACTICAL RHETORIC

JOHN DUNCAN QUACKENBOS

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI •:• CHICAGO

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

QUACK. RHKT.

w. P. 9

PREFACE.

HERBERT SPENCER, in his " Essay on the Philosophy of Style,"
observes that the maxims contained in works on composition and
rhetoric are presented in an unorganized form, and proceeds to sys-
temize the scattered precepts under one leading principle, economy.
But economy, while accounting for a large number of rhetorical phe-
nomena, fails to explain many procedures. This treatise attempts
an answer to the question, Is further generalization possible? by
deriving all rhetorical law from that principle of beauty known as
harmony, or adaptation, — a principle which includes economy, as
well as order, unity in variety, and proportion. It is believed that,
if the learner at the outset can be made to comprehend this principle
in its multitudinous lines of control, the explanation, through it, of
the laws of literary diction and style, will acquire a novel and delight-
ful simplicity. During his twenty years' experience as a teacher of
English Composition in the Rhetorical Department at Columbia Col-
lege, the author has always found that an understanding of reasons,
of the wherefore of the rule, inspires the pupil with interest, and
sharpens the receptive and the retentive faculties. What is memo-
rized as a desultory precept is generally left in the class room for
exclusive application there; but what is apprehended as the expres-
sion of a universal and necessary law is made a part of the student's
daily thought and practice. When the learner comes to realize that
the primal principle of harmony satisfactorily accounts for the rhe-
torical laws that are unfolded in the successive lessons, he is on the
watch, with the opening of each new topic, for a new application of
his governing principle ; and thus is kept on tension his interest in
the philosophical development of the subject to the very last page.

Throughout the instruction that follows, it is sought to treat the
pupil as an intelligent creator of literature : hence, while the sub-
ject is introduced by a discussion of the great aesthetic truths that

4 PREFACE.

underlie rhetorical art, this is not done merely for his entertainment
or culture, but in order to explain principles that are subsequently
considered, and so contribute directly to the purpose of the book.
Impromptu theme writing by illiterate pupils, coupled with perfunc-
tory criticism by ill-prepared tutors, can result only in the crys-
tallization of vicious habits, and hence is discouraged. Pupils are
required to construct paragraphs on subjects suggested by each
lesson in this volume, but always on the presumption that such com-
positions are to be carefully criticised, as to their English, by a
competent teacher, in the presence of the class. Exercises also
follow the several lessons, affording the student abundant illustra-
tions of principles and of the faults that violate them. Thus he
acquires skill in criticism, as well as in creation ; and as he masters
the rules governing the selection of words, their arrangement in
sentences, and the collocation of sentences in the paragraph, he is
encouraged to construct more frequently, until the growing desire to
create finds scope for its activity in the preparation of daily themes.

The process of invention, which furnishes the thoughts to be
clothed in words, and which constitutes the most difficult, if not the
chief, branch of the art, is the first practical subject considered. The
young composer is shown how to analyze his subject, and to amplify
the thoughts successively suggested into a well-connected whole.
The different parts of a theme are then taken up in turn ; and the
several processes of composition — description, narration, argumen-
tation, and exposition — are fully considered. The inventor is next
introduced to a study of the media of discourse, — words, sen-
tences, and paragraphs. These he is taught to wield under the laws
of style. As rhetorical figures enhance the clearness, energy, and
beauty of expression, they are discussed logically after style proper ;
and then follow lessons on the functions and technic of each great
prose form. Poetry and its varieties, together with versification,
are treated briefly in the concluding Part VI. The lessons are so
arranged that the whole course, including the outside constructive
work, may be satisfactorily completed in a single school year.

The book will be found clear, simple, and philosophical in its
treatment, original in its departure from a set traditional system, pro-
fusely illustrated with examples, comprehensive, complete, and full of
life and interest. As a guide to those who may incline to independ-

PREFACE. 5

ent research, references to standard monographs are inserted after
the several lessons, thus indicating an attractive course of collateral
reading, and stimulating teacher and pupil to explore the fields of
higher rhetoric. An invaluable aid to such as desire to speak with
propriety and elegance will be found in Lessons XXI. and XXII., on
common misusages. Suggestive questions are supplied at the end
of each lesson for the use of the instructor, as well as for the con-
venience of the pupil in testing his knowledge.

The author confidently recommends this volume to his fellow-
teachers in the belief that the method herein followed will be found
by those who may make trial of it, as he has found it, in every
way adequate to awaken enthusiasm for the study, to perfect lit-
erary judgment, and to equip substantially for the various fields of
authorship.

CONTENTS.

PAGB
INTRODUCTION 9

PART I.

THE AESTHETIC BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.
LESSON

I. Rhetoric and the Nomothetical Sciences. — Taste, the ./Esthetic

Faculty ig

II. The Imagination 27

III. Beauty, or ./Esthetic Truth 36

IV. ./Esthetic Sense Factors of Beautiful Combinations. — Beauty due

to Association 44

V. Beauty as manifested in its most Intense Form, or Sublimity. — Pic-

turesqueness. — Moral and Intellectual Beauty. — Pathos . . 54

PART II.

LITERARY INVENTION.

VI. The Art of gathering Literary Material 61

VII. Ordering of the Gathered Material. — Amplification .... 72

VIII. Formal Divisions of a Discourse 80

IX. Methods of Amplification. — Description 92

X. Narration 105

XI. Argumentation 116

XII. Exposition 130

PART III.

LITERARY STYLE.

XIII. The Media of Discourse. — Diction. — Sources of Words. — Polite

Usage 135

XIV. Words that violate the Principles of Time and Place. — Purism and

Pedantry. — Malaprops 142

XV. Words that violate the Principles of Dignity and Economy . . 157
XVI. Words that violate the Principles of Order, Energy, Melody, and

Variety. — Americanisms 17°

XVI I. Rhetorical Sentences. — Periods and Loose Sentences. — The Climax.
— The Balance. — Sentences studiously Long and studiously
Short 184

CONTENTS.

LESSON PAGE

XVIII. Punctuation of Rhetorical Sentences. — Period, Interrogation

Point, Exclamation Point, and Colon 193

XIX. Punctuation of Rhetorical Sentences. — Semicolon, Comma, and

Dash. — Other Marks used in Writing and Printing . . 200

XX. Idiomatic, Clear, Strong Sentences. — Beauty in Sentence Struc-

ture.— The Perfect Sentence 212

XXI. Everyday Barbarisms, Solecisms, and Inelegances . . . 228

XXII. Everyday Misusages. — Continued ...... 239

XXIII. The Paragraph, or Unit of Discourse 249

PART IV.

FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

XXIV. The Origin of Figurative Language. — Figures of Orthography

and Etymology 257

XXV. Figures of Syntax 267

XXVI. Figures of Resemblance 276

XXVII. Figures of Contiguity 286

XXVIII. Figures of Contrast. — Onomatopreia. — Alliteration . . . 295

XXIX. Laws of Figure and their Violations 307

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.
XXXV.

PART V.

FUNCTIONS AND TECHNIC OK STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

The Letter 321

The Essay 346

Narratives. — The History 360

The Biography. — The Obituary. — Memoirs, Journals, and

Diaries. — Anecdotes. — Travels and Voyages . . . 371

Fiction and the Novel 384

The Sermon 396

PART VI.

POETRY AND THE PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION. — POETICAL FORMS.

XXXVI. Definition and Theory of Poetry

XXXVII. Versification

XXXVIII. The Epic Poem

XXXIX. The Lyric Poem

XL. The Dramatic Poem

409
418
442
447
457

APPENDIX 463

SPECIMEN PROOF SHEETS 469

INDEX 473

INTRODUCTION.

Rhetoric is the Art of Expressing Thought effectively
in Words. Its study implies an investigation of the prin-
ciples that underlie the accepted rules of cultured speak-
ing and writing, together with the application of those
rules in practical discourse. In other words, it makes
known the secrets of literary effect, and teaches us so
to present our thoughts as to influence in any desired
manner the intellects, the feelings, and the actions of
our fellow-men.

The Search for the Why. — We shall have greater
respect for the rules of rhetoric if we understand the
principles from which they are derived, and realize that
they are not arbitrary and unrelated laws. We shall also
find the study of rhetoric, when pursued as a search for
reasons, to possess absorbing interest ; and we shall learn
to take pleasure in the effort to express our thoughts to
the best advantage through the medium of written essays.

Practice and Formal Study. — But it is to be remem-
bered that neither practice in composition writing alone,
nor the memorizing of rhetorical rules alone, will equip us
for authorship. It is practice controlled by law that makes
perfect here.

Rhetorical Laws, whence Derived. — As has been indi-
cated, rhetoric presents for our study and observance a
great body of laws. These laws are not the arbitrary

10 INTRODUCTION.

inventions of a single mind, nor the expression of the
ideas of a single nation or epoch ; they have been
induced from a study of man's greatest literary efforts.
Striking passages have been analyzed ; the peculiarities
which render them pathetic, sublime, beautiful, or other-
wise effective, have been investigated ; and thus rules
have been formed, by which the critic is enabled to judge
of other pieces of literature, and the writer is shown how
to express his thoughts in such a way as to produce simi-
lar impressions.

Aristotle, who was the first to lay down rules for unity of action
in dramatic and epic poetry, did not arrive at them by guesswork,
but by close observation of Sophocles and Homer. Perceiving that
these writers, by confining themselves in each of their respective
works to one action complete in itself, and limited in place and
period, awakened deeper interest in their readers than those who
combined unconnected facts, he generalized the important principle,
that, in the drama and the epic poem, unity is essential to success.
All the rules of the rhetorician have been induced in a similar man-
ner, and are thus based at once on experience and nature.

Rhetorical Laws spontaneously Apprehended. — Nature
spontaneously interprets and applies law. The genius of
the ancient tragedians instinctively apprehended the great
principles of dramatic art, and unconsciously constructed
plays in obedience to them. Thus innate power created
under an eternal law, making that law, through the created
works, obvious to the critic, and enabling him to point out
to future generations the possible paths to success. Great
epic poems and great plays were composed before the
principles of their construction were discovered and writ-
ten out in a form admitting of study. Men talked cor-
rectly, and reasoned consistently, centuries before there
was a book on grammar or logic ; but, when a vast amount

INTRODUCTION. II

of literary material accumulated, inquiry was made into
principles. So the art of rhetoric simply formulates the
rules which polished writing has developed through ages
of progress.

We are not here to lose sight of the fact that the maxims of the
books, as thus drawn from the works of successful writers, are based
on psychological truths, laws of human nature, which account for
the effects of such works. He who instinctively apprehends the
conditioning principles, or by study has made himself familiar with
them, is in a measure superior to the critic's precepts. The rules of
rhetoric are authoritative, not because they have governed a few
great writers, but by reason of their conformity to these immutable
principles, — principles that are true for all peoples and for all ages.
The principles are inflexible ; the rules, as will be shown, are to a
certain degree elastic.

Rhetorical Art a Second Nature. — The laws of rheto-
ric are nature's laws, and hence do not hamper the free
utterance of thought, fettering talent, and making stiff and
artificial composers. A writer cannot hope to attain per-
fection in his art without paying due attention to its rules.
But it is not necessary that while at work he should
keep these rules constantly before him. The principles
of his art should be so familiar to his mind as, without
consciousness on his part, to control its action. He thus
intuitively avoids what is wrong ; while there is nothing
to prevent his sentences from being as easy, natural,
and unconstrained as those of the loosest and most igno-
rant scribbler.

" Art," says Vinet (ve-na'\ " is not a perpetual constraint for the
mind, but aims at teaching us, by means of some discipline, easily to
do «W/.what before we did ill easily; and just as the moral law,
gradually identified with our souls by means of religion, ends by
assuming within us all the grace and power of an instinct, so the
artist ends by obeying art as a second nature, and even becomes

! 2 INTR OD UC T1ON.

more natural in observing its rules than one could ever be in neglect-
ing them." Mozart aptly touches this point: " If you think how you
are to write you will never write anything worth listening to."

Rules as Servants, not as Tyrants. — Regard rhetori-
cal rules as your servants, not as your tyrants, and find in
them your opportunity. To be a successful writer, you
must know and habitually observe them.

How far is Good Writing Learnable. — The question is
often asked, How far is ability to write well dependent
on instruction and sincere persistent effort on the part of
the student ? Are a few only here to the -manner born,
or may the literary quality be acquired by persons of
ordinary intelligence ? The answer in brief is as follows :
Composition in some instances may be a gift ; but in the
great majority of cases it is training that makes the
author. In the famous eulogy on Shakespeare, Ben Jon-
son accords such training its proper credit : —

"Yet must I not give nature all ; thy art,
My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part.

For a good poet 's made as well as born,
And such wert thou."

Composition is an art which may certainly be taught. Men, as a
rule, are not born great composers, any more than they are born skill-
ful carpenters or expert riflemen. Proficiency is the result of study and
practice. Without such training, the outfit at birth counts for little.
So-called heaven-born genius, unsupported by judicious culture and
faithful toil, fails disastrously. Mediocre talent, seconded by industry
and will power, accomplishes vastly more. Untrained natural endow-
ment cannot replace instruction ; nor, on the contrary, can instruction
develop germs of genius that do not exist. It cannot create great
masters of style; but it unquestionably will perfect the student in the
useful and necessary principles of expression to which the best writers
conform. It must render him simple and unaffected in his diction,
clear and harmonious in his style, and, above all, correct. It will,
moreover, tend to bring out and shape any individuality he may chance

INTRO D UC TION. 1 3

to possess (all masterly styles are marked by individuality) ; and this
is the only incommunicable feature.

Subtle qualities, however, may be borrowed through companion-
ship with great authors, whose individuality is not appropriable. The
fundamental principles of good writing, being comparatively few and
easy of comprehension, may be readily acquired by the young learner ;
and the honest determination to understand and be guided by them
must in the end bring results. Any human being who can be taught
to talk, can be taught to write. Every good piece of literature is, to a
certain extent, the outcome of such teaching, and therefore is a prod-
uct of art. Moreover, every intelligent person can, in the course of
his life, create at least one good piece of literature ; but he must first
learn the way to do it. " The talent of success," wrote Longfellow in
" Hyperion," " is nothing more than doing what you can do well, and
doing well whatever you do"

Practice in Criticism. — The primary object of this
book is to train writers who shall know how to do their
work well ; its secondary aim is to equip critics. The
student must learn to form literary judgments, to value
correctly, as well as to produce, creditable literary work.
If he be inspired with a true sense of the importance of
rhetorical study, he will desire from the outset, not only
to write, but also to judge. Exercises in criticism, as
well as in constructive work, are therefore introduced
at appropriate intervals through the text. Specimens of
style are also presented for examination ; and the pupil is
recommended, as he advances, to write with increasing
frequency, under the influence, but not in imitation, of
these models.

Critic and Creator. — To a certain degree, creative
activity implies critical activity. The literary artist, pos-
sessed of a legacy of true and living ideas, sits down to
produce under their inspiration. A man may be a critic
and not a creator ; but an accomplished creator in any
line of art must needs be a critic.

14 INTRODUCTION.

The Function of Criticism. — Criticism (from the
Greek verb Kpivu, " I judge ") is not fault-finding, as implied
in the every-day use of the word, but honest judging. It
is the business of the critic to employ the rules of good
writing as a standard, and by a judicious comparison with
them to determine what is beautiful and what is faulty in
any given literary production. He must look at the sen-
timents expressed, and judge of their correctness and con-
sistency ; he must view the performance as a whole, and
see whether it clearly and properly embodies the ideas
intended to be conveyed ; he must examine whether there
is sufficient variety in the style, must note its beauties,
and show, if it is susceptible of improvement, in what that
improvement should consist ; he must see whether the
principles of syntax or rhetoric are violated, and, finally,
must extend his scrutiny even to the individual words
employed. And all this must be done without allowing
prejudice to bias his decisions, or the desire of displaying
his own knowledge to lead him from the legitimate pur-
suit of his subject.

The critic must be guided by feeling, as well as rules. He should
not, on account of minor imperfections, condemn as a whole a per-
formance which evinces in its author deep and correct feeling, or pos-
sesses other merits equally important. He should carefully draw a
distinction between what is good and what is bad, giving full credit
for the one, and showing how to correct the other. His criticisms
should not be confined to little faults and errors which no writer,
however careful, has been able entirely to avoid. A true critic will
rather dwell on excellences than on imperfections ; will seek to dis-
cover the concealed beauties of a writer, and communicate to man-
kind such things as are worthy of their observation. Matthew Arnold
defines criticism to be " a disinterested endeavor to learn and propa-
gate the best that is known and thought in the world."

Advantages of Rhetorical Study. — It is plain, then,

INTRODUCTION. 15

that from the study of rhetoric and belles-lettres (bel-letr'}1
two great advantages result : first, it teaches us how, by
observing the rules of criticism as the exponents of
psychological principles, to express our thoughts so as to
produce any desired effect ; and, secondly, it empowers us
to discern faults and merits in the uttered or written
expressions of others.

The Labor Involved, a Pleasure. — These two advan-
tages are surely a sufficient compensation for the labor
involved in pursuing a rhetorical course. Nor, it must
be remembered, is this labor great. The questions that
arise exercise the reason without fatiguing it ; they lead
to inquiries, acute but not painful, profound but neither
dry nor complicated ; they exhibit that degree of diffi-
culty which, merely by exciting the mind to action, affords
positive pleasure.

Independence the Reward. — By a trifling expenditure
of time and attention, we are thus enabled to judge liter-
ary productions for ourselves, to weigh them in the bal-
ance of taste and criticism, and to form our opinions
independently of others. We are not obliged to give or
withhold our admiration as the world or the professional
critic may decide.

A Means of Entertainment. — And this independence
is not the only advantage gained. Rhetorical studies
furnish a never-failing means of entertainment for our
leisure hours. Thorough acquaintance with the princi-

1 Belles-lettres, a general term for polite or elegant literature, including
poetry and other imaginative composition, philology and rhetoric proper,
taste, criticism, and beauty. These refining studies are also known as
the Humanities. Universities now confer the degree of L.H.D. {Litle-
rarum Humaniorum Doctor), Doctor of the more Humane Letters, or the
Humanities.

! g IN TROD UC TION.

pies of an art doubles the pleasure we receive from it ;
and one whose taste has been cultivated by study of
the philosophy of criticism, will find on almost every
page beauties which the untrained reader overlooks. A
love for the standard masterpieces of literature is thus
awakened ; and he who has once acquired such a rel-
ish is in little danger of ever becoming a burden to
himself.

A Discipline for the Understanding. — These studies,
however, do more than entertain and please ; they exercise
the logical or reasoning faculty. To apply the principles
of sound criticism to composition, to examine what is
beautiful and to realize why it is so, to distinguish between
affected and genuine ornaments, can hardly fail to im-
prove us in the most valuable department of philosophy,
— the philosophy of human nature. Such examinations
teach us self-knowledge. They necessarily lead us to
reflect on the operations of the judgment, the imagina-
tion, and the emotions, and familiarize us with the most
refined feelings that ennoble our race.

Effect on Human Happiness. — Beauty, grandeur, and
pathos — all that can soothe the mind, gratify the imagi-
nation, or move the affections — belong to the province
of these aesthetic1 studies, and give rise to feelings which
constitute a most important element in happiness. The
indulgence of such aesthetic feelings brightens and elevates
life. On the other hand, mere absence of beauty, or the

1 ./Esthetic, from a Greek word signifying " perceptible by the senses,"
is now limited in meaning to perceptions and sensations connected with
beauty. An aesthetic person is one who can perceive and loves the beautiful.
Esthetic pleasure results from the perception of beauty in nature, art, or lit-
erature, in the human intellect, or in character. Ugliness, the opposite of
beauty, gives rise to aesthetic pain.

INTRODUCTION. \J

presence of what is aesthetically ugly, tends to make men
depressed and miserable, especially such men as have
been deprived, through misfortune, of the power to sur-
round themselves with aesthetic influences.

Relation between Esthetic Culture and Moral Develop-
ment. — Taste culture has in all ages been regarded as
a powerful incentive to virtue ; and some have gone so
far as to maintain that no man can be truly moral unless
he is sensitive to beauty. " He who cannot see the beau-
tiful side," wrote the essayist Joubert, " is a bad friend
and a bad lover, for he cannot lift his soul as high as
goodness ; " and Ruskin teaches in " Modern Painters,"
that art presupposes a high moral state. Experience
proves that aesthetic culture increases and broadens the
general receptivity, and so renders men more susceptible
to moral, as well as all other impressions. By occupying
the attention to the exclusion of evil propensities, aesthetic
avocations also safely employ the mind.

History shows us, that, as in the case of the ancient Greeks and
Romans and of the French nation in the time of Louis XIV. and
Louis XV., aesthetic refinement may be coexistent with great moral
depravity ; but its general tendency among Christian nations has
undoubtedly been to sensitize the conscience and elevate the whole
moral nature.

Relative Value of Rhetoric. — As a means, then, of
enabling us to communicate our thoughts to the best
advantage, of estimating correctly the productions of
others, of furnishing us with pure and attractive enter-
tainment, and of refining our moral natures, the impor-
tance of rhetorical study can hardly be overestimated.
Relatively, it possesses a value superior to that of any
other branch in the school or college curriculum.

QUACK. RHET. — 2

1 8 INTRO D UCTION.

QUESTIONS.

Define Rhetoric. What two things does its study imply? What
do you think Herbert Spencer means by saying, in regard to rhetori-
cal rules, that "conviction will be greatly strengthened when we
understand the why"? What besides conviction will result from a
search for reasons? Describe the practice that makes perfect.

How were the laws of rhetoric induced? By what process
did Aristotle arrive at the law of unity? Explain the spontaneous
apprehension of law by ancient literary creators. Is it generally
true that the practical precedes the theoretical? How was it in the
case of grammar? Suggest an advantage of studying rules. How
are they to be utilized? Illustrate by stating Vinefs definition of
art ; Mozart's apothegm.

How far is good writing learnable? State precisely what in-
struction can accomplish. Why is every good book a product of
art? State the twofold object of this book. Explain the relation
existing between critic and creator. Define criticism. What is its
function? How does Matthew Arnold characterize it in his essay,
•'The Function of Criticism at the Present Time" ?

Mention the two great advantages resulting from the study of
rhetoric and belles-lettres. What is meant by belles-lettres? By the
humanities ? May their pursuit be made a labor of love ? How
and why? How is independence secured ? Entertainment furnished?
The understanding exercised ? Happiness enhanced ? What is
the meaning of the word (esthetic? Define aesthetic pleasure. Dis-
cuss the relation existing between aesthetic culture and moral devel-
opment. State your opinion of the relative value of rhetorical study.
How does it seem to you to compare in importance with other
branches ? Give reasons for your answer.

PART I.

THE ESTHETIC BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

LESSON I.

RHETORIC AND THE NOMOTHETICAL SCIENCES. — TASTE, THE
/ESTHETIC FACULTY.

Taste, if it mean anything but a paltry connoisseurship, must mean a general
susceptibility to truth and nobleness ; a sense to discern, and a heart to love and
reverence, all beauty. — CARLYLE.

Sciences Subsidiary to Rhetoric. — Rhetoric, as has
been shown, teaches us how to express to the best advan-
tage whatever we are desirous of communicating to our
fellow-men. In so doing it assumes an acquaintance on
our part with certain great fundamental sciences. These
are : grammar, which enforces correctness, that is, con-
formity to the usage of whatever language we may choose
to employ ; logic, which determines the laws of intellect,
distinguishing between true and false reasoning ; ethics,
the science of morals, which prescribes the rules of right
conduct ; and aesthetics, the science of beauty.

To write rhetorically, we must first be correct in our use of con-
structions, logical or consistent in our reasoning, moral in our pur-
pose, and harmonious in our selection, and method of presentation, of
material. The true province of rhetoric is to put into the most effect-
ive shape the forms of thought as furnished in their perfection by
the several sciences enumerated above, in order to bring men who
think and feel and will for themselves, to think and feel and wi'.l

20 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

with the speaker or writer. Hence the proper study of our subject
implies the simultaneous study of each of these nomothetical, or
law-giving sciences, which bear to rhetoric very much the same
relation as the arts of the mason and the carpenter sustain to that
of the architect.

With the general rules of grammar, the learner is supposed to
be thoroughly familiar. Logic prepares him especially for argumen-
tation ; ethics, for every rhetorical procedure, inasmuch as discourse
involves a morally related mind communicating and mind, addressed.
The moral law, the law of our being, which the science of ethics
unfolds, explains our obligations to our neighbors, and theirs to us.
Esthetics, the more distinctively law-giving science, will be treated
forthwith, so far as its great underlying truths explain the second-
ary principles of rhetoric.

Esthetics is the Science of the Beautiful. Its prov-
ince is to give a full account of what is known as beauty ;
of taste, the faculty which perceives and enjoys the beau-
tiful ; and of imagination, the faculty which embodies it
in original forms. From the fundamental truths of beauty
have sprung the great laws of literary style. An aesthetic
idea runs through all the teachings of rhetoric, which can
be perfectly understood and felt only by reference to an
aesthetic source.

We have seen that the laws of rhetoric were induced
from a critical study of many masterpieces, — literary
works which elicited universal admiration, and which had
been constructed intuitively in accordance with great
psychological principles. The fact that men admired
these works implies the existence in the human mind of
a faculty capable of appreciating the beautiful. Such a
faculty exists. Its action extends to all the creations of
nature and art. We know it by the name of Taste.

Taste. — The word taste is derived from a root (tag)
meaning "to touch with the fingers." It was used second-

TASTE, THE ESTHETIC FACULTY. 21

arily to explain the touch of the special nerves of the
tongue, and finally to designate the action of the mind
itself in touching or feeling the beauty of things. It thus
describes the aesthetic faculty, the power of discerning
beauty, and of deriving pleasure both from the act itself
and from the qualities perceived. Through the sense
residing in the tongue, the mind is enabled to distinguish
the flavors of soluble substances ; so, by the action of the
aesthetic sense in transferring to it sensations of beauty,
it communicates with beautiful forms created by other
minds. But the amount of pleasure obtained will depend
on whether we take the same view of nature, or of charac-
ter, or of whatever may be represented, as the creating
artist or author.

Of many portraits of Ophelia, for instance, only one satisfies
our conception of what expression the face should body forth. This
our taste approves and enjoys. Our mental vision coincides with
that of the man who painted this one particular picture. We vir-
tually declare an agreement between his representation and our own
ideal. This proves that an act of judgment is involved in aesthetic
perception.

The Elements of Taste are thus aesthetic sensibility
and artistic judgment. Man is instinctively sensitive to
impressions of the beautiful ; but an exertion of judgment
is always necessary to inform him whether what makes
the impression is truly beautiful or not. The mind may,
or may not, be conscious of the train of reasoning by
which it arrives at its conclusions ; yet there must be
such reasoning before taste can perform its full function.

In reading a novel like " Nicholas Nickleby," much of our
pleasure arises from the story's being interestingly conducted, in
spite of diverting incidents that have little connection with the main

22 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

action ; from the masterly delineation of the characters, their fidelity
to nature, and the spirit with which they are maintained to the end ;
and, finally, from the moral purpose of the author, which had in view
the reform of abuses in the Yorkshire schools. Without the guid-
ance of judgment, taste could form no opinion of the story, would be
at a loss to know whether it conforms to the accepted laws of narra-
tion, and would therefore fail to receive pleasure from its perusal.

Correctness and Delicacy of Taste. — Many who are
abundantly susceptible to emotions of beauty, are lacking
in discrimination. A correct taste implies a sound under-
standing. It judges by the standard of good sense, is
never imposed on by what is counterfeit, and duly esti-
mates and enjoys the merits it meets with in literary
works.

Again, many who have strong sensibility are deficient
in delicacy. They are deeply impressed by such beauties
as they perceive, but perceive only what is coarse and
conspicuous. The man of delicate taste, on the other
hand, has not only strength of feeling, but also a quick
and nice perception. He sees distinctions and differ-
ences that are lost on others ; neither the most concealed
beauties nor the minutest blemishes escape him.

Instances exist of remarkable delicacy in the external sense of
taste. By careful training, coupled with the habit of avoiding all
articles of food that irritate the gustatory nerves, tea and wine
tasters are enabled to detect the slightest differences among the
infinite variety of flavors they encounter in the practice of their pro-
fession. Tea tasters have become so expert as to distinguish the
particular kinds of tea composing a mixed infusion. A man of fine
literary taste will, in like manner, not only appreciate the general
beauties and imperfections of an author, but will discover the
peculiarities of style that distinguish him from all other authors.
Such a man, having critically separated the method and genius of
Beaumont from those of Fletcher, will easily recognize the moral

TASTE, THE ESTHETIC FACULTY. 23

earnestness and unassuming beauty of the greater poet in the dramas
that bear the twin names. Having formed an ideal of Bacon's mind
and style, he will never be convinced that the philosopher wrote the
Shakespearean plays.

Taste Universal. — All men have some taste, and
what we style absence of taste is often rather an absence
of material on which to exercise it. Even in children
the faculty manifests itself at an early age in a fond-
ness for regular bodies, an admiration for gaudy toys, a
pleasure in loud or monotonous sounds. The ignorant
and unrefined are delighted with masses of bright color,
boisterous songs, sensational novels ; such are to them
correct representations of art and of human life. The
very savage, by his ornaments, his rude carvings, and his
florid eloquence, shows that, along with reason and speech,
he has been gifted with the power of appreciating what,
from his standpoint, constitutes beauty.

The Differences Observable in Taste are partly natural,
and partly due to education. The faculty may be by birth
refined or coarse ; but with education it changes for better
or worse. An elegant taste may be acquired by attentive
companionship with what is unexceptionable in literature
and art, — acquaintance with the best things. Such com-
panionship implies the formation of higher and
refined standards as we advance, until the power
ception becomes exquisite and the judgment ui
The child whose taste delighted in the puppets of!
and Judy may be educated so as to enjoy at fo\
simple pieces of statuary, and at twenty-one to experiel
intellectual gratification in contemplating the master works
of the Louvre.

So in literature. As we become educated, we find

24 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

ourselves capable of appreciating greater and deeper au-
thors, and we realize, that, the more we know, the more
we can find to enjoy in a writer like Shakespeare. Good
taste has been defined as "the product of progressing
fineness in the nerves, educated attention, a noble emo-
tional constitution (taste is to this extent inborn}, and
increasing intellectuality." As such, it is obviously an
elevating power in human life ; it renders singularly grace-
ful the action of every other faculty of the mind, while
its principles are undeniably the guiding principles in the
art of effective discourse.

Perversion of Taste. — A taste naturally correct may
be perverted by contact with what is vicious. The incon-
sistencies of the faculty, the wrong conclusions at which
it often arrives, have even given rise to a suspicion that it
is merely arbitrary ; that it is not grounded on invariable
principles, is ascertainable by no standard, and is depend-
ent entirely on the changing fancy of the hour.

History affords numerous illustrations of corrupted taste. How
completely opposite, for instance, is the literary taste of the present
day to that which prevailed in the reign of Charles II. ! Nothing was
then in fashion but an affected brilliancy of wit. Shakespeare was
considered a barbarian ; the simple majesty of Milton was overlooked ;
eloquence gave place to bombast ; and buffoonery pervaded literature.

Examples of false taste, as well as of irreconcilable differences
in the conclusions of this faculty, meet us on every side ; so that we
naturally ask whether there is any standard of right and wrong. Are
we justified in censuring those who prefer the chromolithographs of
the saloon window to classic pictures, or empty rhyme to epic poetry ?

A Standard of Taste. — When a given person con-
demns as aesthetically ugly what a second admires as
beautiful, one must be right, the other wrong. A deci-
sion can be reached only by an appeal to some standard.

TASTE, THE ESTHETIC FACULTY. 2$

Now, whereas it is impossible to set up an absolute stand-
ard, a standard that never falls short of perfection, we
may find one sufficiently trustworthy in the agreeing voice
of the majority of cultured men. The conclusions of
judges gifted by nature with acute sensibilities, and care-
fully educated in things aesthetic, must be accepted as
authoritative. Failure to concur with this universal stand-
ard means defect in a given taste.

Suppose, by way of illustration, a certain reader should
assert that the poetry of Scott is without beauty, that it is
dull and lifeless, and in no respect superior to the rhymes
of some third-rate verse maker of the time ; we should
certainly appeal to our standard, the concurrent opinions
of the majority of educated men and women, to prove him
in error.

The universality of taste and the consistency of its decisions,
except when temporarily perverted, prove that it is far from arbi-
trary, is independent of individual fancies, and employs a practical
criterion for determining their truth or falsehood. In every com-
position, what captivates the imagination, convinces the reason, or
touches the heart, pleases all ages and all nations ; hence the unan-
imous testimony which successive generations have borne to the
merit of certain works of genius ; hence the authority which such
works have acquired as literary standards. Endurance is an incon-
trovertible test.

QUESTIONS.

State the objects of rhetorical teaching. Explain the relation
existing between rhetoric and the so-called nomothetical sciences.
Define aesthetics. Give the derivation of the word taste. What is
taste? On what depends our enjoyment of the works of literature
and art? Describe the two elements that have a share in the opera-
tions of taste. What does correctness of taste imply? Delicacy?
Illustrate delicacy in the external sense of taste. In the mental
sense.

26 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

Does it seem to you, that, in spite of minor variations in taste,
there is on the whole a great body of agreement? How do you
account for the differences observable in taste? In what does
taste education consist? Define good taste; bad taste. Illustrate
perverted taste.

Account for the saying, " Many men, many tastes." What does
the term standard denote? What is the only safe standard that
can be adopted in cases where taste differs? Say what you can of
the universality of taste.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Let a student state, or write impromptu, why he prefers certain
pictures ; certain books. Let him explain extemporaneously what he
is doing to educate his taste. Call upon him to describe any cases
of perverted taste he may know, or have read of. Have him illustrate
the threefold operation of an act of taste, — perceiving, judging, and
enjoying, — by showing what takes place when a faithful picture of
a familiar landscape, or the photograph of a friend, is submitted for
his inspection. Ask him to select from the objects about him those
that would give pleasurable feelings to the majority of men, stating
reasons for his selection.

[NOTE. — In these exercises, the instructor may indicate lines of
treatment, and should carefully correct all errors on the part of the
pupil. To test the extent and accuracy of his knowledge, the learner
is advised, at the close of each lesson, to express in writing as much
of its subject matter as he can recollect.]

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

For further information on the subjects treated, instructor and
pupil are referred to Shairp's "Culture and Religion," Ruskin's
" Modern Painters," Begg's " The Development of Taste," Beat-
tie's " The Minstrel."

THE IMAGINATION. 2J

LESSON II.

THE IMAGINATION.

My eyes make pictures when they're shut. — COLERIDGE.

Imagination is the faculty of conceiving things according to their actualities or
possibilities, that is, as they are or may be ; of conceiving them clearly ; of seeing
with the eyes closed, and hearing with the ears sealed, and vividly feeling, things
which exist only through the will of the artist's genius, — not only of conceiving
these, but of holding one's conceptions so well in mind as to express them, to copy
them, in actual language or form. — EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN.

The life of the imagination is the discovery of truth. — RUSKIN.

The Image-making Faculty. — As taste perceives and
enjoys beauty, so the imagination, under the guidance of
taste, originates beautiful thought shapes, which, when
expressed in color, form, or language, are capable of
imparting the highest intellectual pleasure. Such pleas-
ure is the end of all true art. The simplest action of
this faculty is the reproduction of a remembered image.
Whatever impresses the mind through the senses leaves
behind it a representative in the memory. Every object
that we have seen is represented by a memory image.
It is with memory images that imagination deals. They
remain stored in the mind's treasure-house, to be repro-
duced, when occasion arises, in the mental field. It is
easy, when at a distance from home, to construct in your v
mind a picture of the street on which you live, or of the
library in which you study ; the fact that you can do so
proves to you that you have an image-making faculty.

Imagination thus restores remembered sense objects.
It can also construct images from the accounts of others ;

28 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

and much of the pleasure we derive from a novel like
" Lorna Doone " depends upon the action of this faculty
in giving mental form to the picturesque scenes therein
described.

New Wholes. — The imagination not only makes images
of sense objects recovered from the memory, and of expe-
riences reported by others ; its power is further exercised
in recombining memory images into new and original
wholes, — creations that nowhere exist. In this way an
artist sometimes constructs from actual sketches, turning
the pages of his portfolio in search of material for a pic-
ture, and selecting a tree here, a cascade there, a house
from a third locality, a sky from a fourth, until the parts
are complete. Or he may deal directly with mental repre-
sentatives, selecting such as suit his purpose, and com-
bining them, or detached parts of them, into consistent
thought forms to be materialized on his canvas. Thus it
will be seen that imagination does not create in the true
sense, or make out of nothing. Its new wholes are merely
unusual combinations of old pieces.

Taste in the Workshop of the Imagination. — In mak-
ing such combinations, imagination acts under the direc-
tion of taste. The relation is that of creator and guide.
From among the many forms of beauty assembled by the
creative faculty, a selection must be made. Different
combinations of the images selected then suggest them-
selves ; many are tried and rejected, one only is decided
upon as the most beautiful. It is taste that selects the
happiest forms and most impressive combinations. Imagi-
nation takes counsel of taste ; and taste, in turn, by the
discipline involved in the study of these mental combina-
tions, attains a high degree of perfection. The inborn

THE IMAGINATION.

power of combining as others have never combined is
genius. It is to be noted that the same feelings of
aesthetic pleasure are excited by these beautiful mind
creations as by actual objects and scenes.

By way of illustration, we may consider briefly what takes place
in the composition of a great play. Imagination rarely accepts the
labor of inventing the story. This is found at hand, and utilized, or
rather conquered. The process of conquest is a process of recon-
struction, the weaving of events into a unified series that keeps
interest alive to the last. It involves also the portraiture of char-
acter. The dramatic artist may select a single trait (as Ben Jonson
did wi*h his " humours:1' read "Every Man in his Humour"), and
erect upon it a consistent complex character, after the manner of
the comparative anatomist, who builds the perfect skeleton of an
extinct mammal round one of its bones ; or of an Agassiz, who con-
structs a fossil fish from a single scale. In the process of creating a
play, or any other literary work, imagination is ready with a thousand
suggestions and possibilities ; taste chooses in each case the one
thing that is best.

Imagination and Fancy. — The image-making faculty
may not always put together memory forms to serve some
deep purpose, or convey some mystic meaning. When it
is exercised in an aimless or capricious manner to create
fantastic or impossible, yet withal graceful and pleasing,
forms, it is known as fancy.

In the view of Ruskin, fancy is without feeling, it takes no hold
upon the affections ; whereas imagination is always serious, deep,
earnest. " There is something in the heart of everything, if we can
reach it, that we shall not be inclined to laugh at." To Wordsworth,
" the meanest flower that blows could give thoughts that do often lie
too deep for tears." But it is the insight of the penetrative imagina-
tion alone that can read these thoughts. "If," wrote the great art
critic in " Modern Painters," " passing to the edge of a sheet of snow
on the Lower Alps, early in May, we find two or three little openings
pierced in it, and through these emergent, a slender, pensive, fragile

30 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

flower, whose small dark purple-fringed bell hangs down and shud-
ders over the icy cleft, as if partly wondering at its own recent grave,
and partly dying of fatigue after its hard-won victory, we shall be
moved by a totally different impression of loveliness from that which
we receive among the dead ice and the idle clouds. There is now
uttered to us a call for sympathy, now offered to us an image of
moral purpose and achievement, which, however unconscious or
senseless the creature may indeed be that so seems to call, cannot
be heard without affection, nor contemplated without worship."

To return to the drama, imagination is responsible for the com-
plex scenes and the faithfully delineated characters, even for the cos-
tumes which reflect character and circumstance : fancy gives delicate
graces, many of the poetical comparisons, much of the imagery.
Spirits like Ariel are the work of fancy ; women as true and tender
as Miranda, of the imagination. The world of fancy is an unreal
world ; the world of the imagination is that of nature (see p. 305;.

Imaginative Ideals. — A work of the imagination may
be called perfect when it embodies beautiful forms corre-
sponding with the ideal, or standard of perfection, created
by the imagination itself, and present as a reality in the
mind. The artist or sculptor has the gift, not only of
originating these ideal combinations in the manner shown,
but also of expressing them in material forms, so that
they can be recognized and enjoyed by others.

Ideals projected in this way do more than entertain ;
they act as a means of improvement or injury to the whole
human race. The Greek idea of manliness, as embodied
in the characterizations of Homer, has exerted an incalcu-
lable influence in creating admiration for those virtues
that unite to make a perfect character. So the majestic
beauty of the face of the Greek Venus, shadowing forth a
mighty intellectuality, — a cold, stern dignity that withers
every carnal suggestion, and spells the pure in heart with
its godlike charm, — must stand forever as an inspiration

THE IMAGINATION. 31

to high resolve and noble endeavor. On the other hand,
words are hardly needed to portray the evil wrought by
the utterance of low ideals in statue, picture, and novel.

Our minds are full of imaginative ideals. These ideals become
standards of desire, objects of aim, stimuli to action, until life resolves
itself into a constant effort to realize them. If they are high and true,
we must rise in the course of their pursuit ; if low, we can but fall.
Thus the imagination appears as a most potent instrument either of
good or of evil. Like taste, it may be perverted. It may gain sway
over the other mental powers, and do its work at their expense.
Excessive novel reading, implying almost exclusive exercise of the
imagination, converts a man into a dreamer, weakens his memory,
wrecks his judgment, and unfits him for the realities of life. A
perverted imagination occupies itself in the incessant gathering of
such sense images as kindle unworthy desires, and invite to degrad-
ing pleasures. Inordinate love of wealth, of -worldly enjoyment,
or of anything wrong, is fed and strengthened by this busy agent,
which forever pictures before the mind those scenes and objects in
which it takes unlawful delight.

The Scientific Use of the Imagination. — Sometimes
imaginative ideals have a peculiarly practical bearing, in
that they prompt to scientific investigation. When the
penetrative faculty is under proper control, and directed,
as may be, in its combinations toward the generalization
of principles and the discovery of truth, it becomes an
indispensable aid in the acquisition of knowledge. Pro-
fessor Tyndall held that the grandest discoveries of science
have been made when " she has left the region of the seen
and the known, and followed imagination by new paths to
regions before unseen." From known facts, the unknown
is discerned, as much through the medium of a mental
picture as are the successive steps in the construction of
a poem or the chiseling of a statue. The imagination

32 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

" penetrates, analyzes, and reaches truths by no other
faculty discoverable." Painstaking research verifies the
imaginative visions.

Thus the imagination of Pasteur foresaw his important chemical
discoveries ; experiment in the laboratory proved the truth of his
imaginings. The discovery of vaccination was an accident ; but
Pasteur's imagination apprehended the principle that inoculation with
the attenuated poison of a disease would not prove fatal, but would
protect from that disease. He proved the truth of his vision by culti-
vating bacilli in sterile broth, until he found among them some too
weak to kill the lower animals, but all-powerful to protect subjects
exposed to similar unattenuated virus. In 1885 he made his first ex-
periments on human beings, and since then the Pasteur treatment has
saved thousands of infected persons from hydrophobia. " Happy
he," said this great discoverer, "who has within himself a god (i.e., a
high ideal), and is directed by it." By a strange freak of imagina-
tion, Swift exactly foretold in "Gulliver's Travels" the discovery of
the four satellites of Mars; and Sir Isaac Newton, as he watched
the apple fall, suddenly apprehended the universal principle of gravi-
tation, which science was so slow to accept.

Culture of the Imagination. — If the imagination is
thus important as a refining and moralizing agent, if it
points out the way in every branch of human develop-
ment, discovering the ultimate secrets of being, then, in a
complete system of education, special attention should be
given to its culture. Appropriate nourishment and judi-
cious exercise comprise the means at the command ^f the
educator. Wholesome stories are the proper food of the
young imagination, and the practice of narrating them
constitutes the initial step in the development of the
faculty. The child, as it listens to the tales of the nur-
sery, accompanies them with a train of pleasing mental
pictures ; and it soon inclines to originate independent
fancies, and tell them to its dolls or companions. Here

THE IMAGINATION. 33

we have an image-making activity, which, if skillfully
guided, may develop into superior creative power in the
field of narration or of poetry.

Reading imaginative literature follows with advancing
years. Children are natural readers ; but their choice of
books is not to be left to chance. A cheap vicious fiction
is everywhere inducing incurable disease in the image-
making faculty of our young people, and thus destroying
their usefulness as members of a Christian society. It
was the practice of reading higJily imaginative books that
kindled the young imaginations of Dante, Shakespeare,
and Milton. All writers know its value. With a view
to exciting his imagination, and thus rendering his style
animated, Prescott, the historian, listened for an hour
every morning to passages read from the romances of
Scott. The result is' reflected in his masterpieces. The
faculty, prepared by these steps to utter itself, at last
finds its natural exercise in imaginative composition.

Finally, it must be remembered that the mind tends to become
like its surroundings. Association with works of art, and Companion-
ship with nature, are therefore important factors in the development
of the imagination. The silent influence of a single aesthetic object
does more to refine a character than a houseful of spurious imitations,
gaudy knacks, or silly novelties ; hence the force of Tennyson's
lines : —

" To look on noble forms

Makes noble, through the sensuous organism,

That which is higher."

Further, the influence of external nature is marked in the imagi-
native work of many authors. Outdoor life on the sea, among the
mountains, in the forest, quickens the perceptions, unfetters thought,
and stores away in the brain impressions perhaps unconsciously
received in the presence of natural beauty, which, however, are to

QUACK. RHET. — 3

34 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

modify the character of future literary productions. Joan of Arc
drew her inspiration from the mysterious wood of Domremy ; the
incomparable Rosalynde was ocean-born ; while the emotional mind
of Shakespeare was delighted and educated among

" The shadowy forests and the champains rich'd,
The plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,"

that marked the Arden and Feldon of Warwickshire.

QUESTIONS.

What is the imagination? Illustrate the simplest action of this
faculty. Explain memory images. How do you know that you have
an image-making faculty? Do you use the microscope? If so, have
you ever seen objects you have examined stand out vividly before your
eyes hours after you have been at work? What does this prove?
Show how the imagination constructs new wholes. What pieces were
put together by the Oriental mind to make a centaur?

Explain the part played by taste in the workshop of the imagi-
nation. Illustrate the work of the two faculties by stating what takes
place in the composition of a drama. Distinguish between imagina-
tion and fancy. What does Whittier mean in the " Bridal of Penna-
cook "by " Fancy's dream-dipped brush " ? Illustrate Ruskin's theory
of the penetrative seriousness of the imagination (the Soldanella
alpina blooming above the snowdrift).

What do you understand by an imaginative ideal ? How do imagi-
native ideals influence human conduct? Illustrate. Have you ideals?
What are they? May imagination be exercised immoderately? May
it be perverted? What injury does it work in either case? Show
how inventions and discoveries may be the result of the creative
imagination's realizing some universal idea. Illustrate from the life of
Pasteur. How may imagination be developed?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Let the pupil state from his own experience how his imagination
constructs for his enjoyment as he reads a story ; as he tells a story ;
as he anticipates pleasure. Let him narrate any instance he may
know of in history, or in the society about him, in which men have

THE IMAGINATION. 35

been mocked by their imaginations, — the ambition of Caesar or Napo-
leon ; the common gambler. Suggest reading the life of some great
scientist or discoverer, with a view to detecting the influence of the
imagination in securing his success, — Sir Isaac Newton, Darwin,
Edison, Columbus.

The following may be submitted for criticism. It not unfre-
quently happens that imagination and fancy work together on the
same creation. State what is imaginative and what fanciful in these
lines from " Aurora Leigh : " —

" I flattered all the beauteous country round,
As poets use, the skies, the clouds, the fields,
The happy violets hiding from the roads
The primroses run down to, carrying gold ;
The tangled hedgerows, where the cows push out
Impatient horns and tolerant churning mouths
'Twixt dripping ash boughs — hedgerows all alive
With birds and gnats and large white butterflies
Which look as if the Mayflower had caught life,
And palpitated forth upon the wind ;
Hills, vales, woods, netted in a silver mist,
Farms, granges, doubled up among the hills ;
And cottage chimneys smoking from the woods,
And cottage gardens smelling everywhere,
Confused with smell of orchards. ' See,' I said,
' And see ! is God not with us on the earth ?
Who says there's nothing for the poor and vile
Save poverty and wickedness ? behold ! ' '

For an illustration of the purely ideal, the class may read Shel-
ley's exquisite poem of " The Sensitive Plant;" as a study in fanciful
creation, Drake's " Culprit Fay."

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Dallas's "The Gay Science;" E. C. Stedman's article on the
Imagination, in the " Century Magazine" for September, 1892; Pro-
fessor C. C. Everett's "Poetry, Comedy, and Duty;" Sully's "Out-
lines of Psychology," p. 316; Tyndall's " Essay on the Scientific Use
of the Imagination."

36 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

LESSON III.

BEAUTY, OR ESTHETIC TRUTH.

Beauty is the most universal law of form, the most potent guide of method,
found in the external world. It includes all lower utilities and adaptations, and
adds for the reason of man a most magnificent utility of its own. — PROFESSOR
BASCOM.

It is a rule of largest application, true in a plant, true in a loaf of bread, that,
in the construction of any fabric or organism, any real increase of fitness to its end
is an increase of beauty. — EMERSON.

A comprehension of the general principle from which the rules of composition
result, will not only bring them home to us with greater force, but will discover to us
other rules of like origin. — HERBERT SPENCER.

The Nature of the Beautiful. — We have seen that
taste perceives beauty, and that the imagination can in-
fuse beauty into its creations ; we must next consider why
imaginative combinations are beautiful. Do they possess
in common certain objective qualities that produce mental
pleasure ? What is it that makes things beautiful, or
ugly ?

Beauty must be regarded as a Quality, an attribute,
incapable of analysis, but appreciable by a mode of per-
ception, and perfectly real to the perceiver. We cannot
define it ; but we can realize that it means thought or
feeling uttered in some perfect form by the Divine Rea-
son or the imagination of man. It is the manifestation
of an aesthetic idea ; the beauty is in the idea. And this
beauty implies for its perception aesthetic brain organs.
It may be present ; but, without the action of perceptive
organs, it will remain unrecognized. Just as lilac blos-
soms possess the power of producing the sensation of

BEAUTY, OR AESTHETIC TRUTH. 37

purple, but can never do it without an eye to look at
them ; so there may be beauty in an Egyptian hymn
bearing the mummy company in some undiscovered tomb,
— beauty without an interpreter.

Wherever we are Sensible of Beauty, we naturally seek
a cause to explain it. Now there is no one definite prop-
erty, no one collection of definite qualities, that marks the
infinite variety of beautiful objects. We can form no
mental picture of the beautiful, as we can of a triangle
or a chair ; and yet we have an idea of what beauty is ;
and the idealizing faculty, our imagination, finds it every-
where in nature, in life, in character. It is something
that we cannot handle nor see, something undiscoverable
by the crucible of the chemist or the microscope of the
biologist, — this " archetypal beauty out of sight," as Mrs.
Browning described it. But there is a principle that
seems to explain it, that lies at the basis of all beautiful
impression, and that is the principle of harmony.

Harmony, or Adaptation, the Law of Beauty. — Har-
mony is derived from a Greek verb meaning " to fit
together," and therefore literally implies fitness, congruity,
the union of related parts in a consistent whole. Harmony
involves the action of God's universal laws on substances
and forces of his creation to realize in each case some spe-
cific purpose of his own. In this consists design, the adap-
tation of means to an end ; in this is comprehended the
happy fulfillments of function in living things whereby
Ruskin explained vital beauty.1 Herein is the foundation
of the beauty we discern in proportion and symmetry.

1 Ruskin conceives of a healthy plant or animal as truly happy only in
the discharge of its functions ; and it is unselfish sympathy with this happi-
ness that gives rise to the sensation of beauty. So those forms are the most

38 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

It is the principle of harmony that causes our pleasure when we
contemplate the wonderful structure of the human hand, and see with
what nicety its many parts are adjusted to form a member unequalled
in strength, flexibility, and usefulness. Beauty "includes the perfec-
tion of uses." Among the most interesting objects studied under the
microscope are minute plants called diatoms. Their exquisite sym-
metry, delicate sculpturings, and matchless coloration, give but momen-
tary enjoyment apart from the thought of complete adaptation to their
environment by divine wisdom, and complete fulfillment in such
adaptation of divine purpose. Science teaches us that there exists
between every organism and its surroundings a certain congruity or
accord. The conscious or unconscious apprehension of such perfect
congruity gives the pleasurable feeling of true beauty. Whatever,
on the other hand, interferes with the felicitous fulfillment of func-
tion ; whatever, like deformity or disease, prevents an organism from
doing all the Creator intended it to do, — causes the quality, and
gives rise to the emotion, of aesthetic ugliness or pain.

Harmony the Law of all Art. — The principle of har-
mony has been accepted by certain ancient and modern
philosophers in explanation of the world of nature and of
mind. Pythagoras made harmony consist in proportion or
definite relation, "the principle and guide of divine and
human life." To tune the man into harmony with his
surroundings was the aim of Greek education ; to be out

beautiful that " exhibit most of power, and at the same time seem capable of
most quick and joyous sensation," — the brilliant moth, the warbling bird,
the graceful fawn, the physically developed intellectual man. " That the
amount of pleasure we receive is in exact proportion to the appearance of
vigor and sensibility in the plant is easily proved by observing the effect
of those which show evidences of it in the least degree, as any of the cacti
not in flower. Their masses are heavy and simple ; their growth slow ; their
various parts jointed on one to another, as if they were buckled or pinned
together, instead of growing out of each other; and the fruit imposed upon
the body of the plant, so that it looks like a swelling or disease. All these
circumstances so concur to deprive the plant of vital evidences, that we receive
from it more sense of pain than of beauty." — Modern Painters.

BEAUTY, OR ESTHETIC TRUTH. 39

of such harmony was evil. Fine art is nothing more than
the adaptation of things to a given end, the combina-
tion of factors individually pleasing into wholes that give
supreme mental gratification. Art is harmony, and its
ultimate purpose is to bring our souls into harmony with
whatever is purest and noblest in nature and in man.
Music combines tones in such ways as to stimulate various
emotions, there being mysterious' accord between each col-
lection of sounds and the pleasurable feeling it excites.

As the secret of beauty, harmony is further the secret
of literary success. Rhetoric is throughout the. art of
adaptation, — adaptation of language and style to theme,
of theme to occasion and audience, of parts of a composi-
tion to one another and to the whole, and of the method
of development to the proposed end. Rhetoric everywhere
expresses suitableness, appropriateness. Cicero's decere,
"to be fitting," therefore comprehends every principle of
literary style. This will be obvious when it is under-
stood that true harmony, complete adaptation, includes
order, economy, and unity in variety, thus involving all
that makes perfect.

The Principle of Order. — Order is the harmonious
arrangement of parts. In such an arrangement, the
human mind sees beauty, whether it be the disposition
of worlds in a universe, or the grouping of iridescent
scales on a moth's wing. Order implies mind, design.
In this sense, the world is ordered, is a cosmos, as the
Greeks called it, an embodiment of order and harmony.

Order further includes dignity. All beautiful things
are characterized by dignity, imparted by the touch of the
creator, whether he be God or man ; and dignity means
rejection of the common, avoidance of the low and trivial,

4O THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

expression of elevated design. That which is idle, frivo-
lous, meaningless, unworthy, untruthful, is without dignity,
and therefore without beauty. A life given to aimless or
debasing pleasure, a face in which physical excellence is
unaccompanied with moral or intellectual grace, are illus-
trations of the undignified. In each there is something
out of harmony. The masterpieces of Greek statuary
are embodiments of a 'dignity which modern sculpture
rarely attains.

Order is opposed by confusion, by shiftlessness in the
arrangement of related parts. A well-ordered sentence
has force and beauty ; a badly ordered one occasions aes-
thetic pain by its weakness or obscurity.

The Principle of Economy. — Harmony further mani-
fests itself in economy ; that is, frugality in the use of
material, rejection of what is superfluous, simplicity. A
perfect adaptation implies all this ; and the mind will be
pleased in proportion as it reaches the beauty presented
to it with little effort and by simple means.

There is perfect economy in Nature. Nowhere in her wide realm
do we find the slightest waste of material, or creative force exerted
without a purpose. Physics teaches us that no portion of energy —
the capacity of doing work which is possessed by matter — is ever lost
or destroyed. Whenever a given quantity of energy disappears at any
place, an exactly equivalent amount appears somewhere at the same
instant, either in the same or different form. Here, again, is supernat-
ural design and perfect adaptation. The law of economy is an eternal
principle.

To secure economy, there must be orderly arrange-
ment. Indifference to order entails waste of material and
force, as is apparent in architecture, in sentence building.
Hence the principles of economy and order to a certain

BEAUTY, OR AESTHETIC TRUTH. 41

extent imply each other ; but both proceed from the larger
principle of harmony, which precludes deficiency as well
as excess. True economy is absolute precision, and is
opposed both to niggardliness and extravagance, — the
paucity that starves, as well as the superabundance that
surfeits. It finds its perfect expression in temperance,
which Ruskin regards as the most essential phase of adap-
tation. "It is possible," he says, "that a certain degree
of beauty may be attained, even in the absence of one of
its other constituents. But the least appearance of ex-
travagance, of the want of moderation and restraint, is
destructive of all beauty ; giving rise to that which in
color we call glaring', in form inelegant, in motion tingrace-
ful, in language coarse, in thought undisciplined, in all
unchastened. Over the doors of every school of art, I
would have this one word, relieved out in deep letters of
pure gold, — Moderation."

The Principle of Unity in Variety. — Finally, there can
be no beauty without unity in variety, — a principle which
again grows out of adaptation. It implies an harmoniotis
variety of features so combined that unity, or comprehen-
siveness of design, characterizes the whole. " A straight
line," says Professor Bascom, "a section of the most
graceful curve, a single color, though each may be letters
in the alphabet of beauty, by themselves teach nothing.
A fine pigment that lies unshapen on the palette im-
presses the eye, but not the intellect : it is brilliant, but
not beautiful. Transferred to the canvas, it assumes form,
relation, office, and, entering the region of thought, may
now claim for itself a rational attribute, — beauty." It is
thus relationship to others, union with many, that make
each component significant.

42 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

In a beautiful painting, sonnet, or human figure, the
principle of unity in variety appears, not only in the com-
bination of sense elements to make the one thing, but
also in the one meaning expressed by the many related
parts.

Variety is Indispensable to Beauty ; monotony, its oppo-
site, is intolerable. We do not meet with it in the natural
world. No human being, in a state of mental and bodily
health, thinks and feels monotonously. If, therefore, he
express himself naturally through the medium of any art,
his creations must be characterized by variety. The
Greek apothegm, " Nothing too much," enjoins variety as
well as economy.

It is to be remembered that neither unity, nor order, nor econ-
omy, nor harmony proper, is beauty ; they merely make beauty ;
they are eternal principles which underlie all artistic creation. Lit-
erary success depends on their thorough comprehension and intelligent
application.

Incongruity. — Before leaving this subject, it will be
well for the student to note, that as perfect congruity
explains beauty, which is serious and dignified, so incon-
gruity is the essence of the ludicrous, the object of which
is to excite laughter. What is called wit consists in the
grouping of dissimilar or incongruous images. It is illus-
trated in burlesques, travesties, and mock-heroic poems,
and in the play upon words known as punning.

QUESTIONS.

Can you define beauty ? What is implied in its perception ?
Show how its presence may, or may not, be recognized. Why is it
impossible to form a concrete mental image of the beautiful? Can you
explain what Hegel means by calling beauty " the sensuous shining

BEAUTY, OR ESTHETIC TRUTH. 43

forth of the idea"? What is the principle that beautifies matter?
Discuss the principle of harmony. State your understanding of Rus-
kin's theory of fulfillment of function. Explain the source of pleasure
in contemplating the human hand ; in the study of diatoms. Why is
it true, that, as a man discerns beauty, life acquires for him a higher
value? Prove that beauty is the form under which intellect studies
the world. Account for ugliness.

What was harmony according to the philosophy of Pythagoras?
How is it the law of fine art? Of rhetoric? Define order. What does
it imply? Give the Greek idea of cosmos. Show how dignity is an
essential of order. By what is order opposed?

Define economy. How does it appear in nature? Explain its
connection with temperance. Discuss the principle of unity in variety.
What is the effect of monotony? Of incongruity? In what does wit
consist ?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Let the pupil characterize his mental feeling on seeing a beautiful
object. Let him explain the force of Keats's line, " A thing of beauty
is a joy forever." Let a member of the class give reasons why a night-
blooming flower is beautiful, — relation of details with reference to a
whole ; hidden meaning ; light, color, and delicate perfume attractive
to night-flying moths that distribute the fertilizing pollen ; design.
Have the first twelve stanzas of the first part of Wordsworth's poem,
" Peter Bell," read aloud in the recitation room, and inquire into the
significance of the lines : —

" A primrose by a river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more."

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Professor Bascom's "^Esthetics, or the Science of Beauty;" Pro-
fessor Ladd's translation of Lotze's " Outlines of ^Esthetics ; " Sted-
man's paper on Beauty in the "Century Magazine" for July, 1892;
Richard Henry Stoddard's " Hymn to the Beautiful."

44 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

LESSON IV.

AESTHETIC SENSE FACTORS OF BEAUTIFUL COMBINATIONS.—
BEAUTY DUE TO ASSOCIATION.

To effect an impression of beauty, works of art must please the senses. —
LOTZE.

Beyond their sensuous delight, the forms and colors of nature have a new charm
for us in our perception that not one ornament was added for ornament, but each
is a sign of some better health or more excellent action. — EMERSON.

Grateful or unpleasant associations cluster around all which sense takes cog-
nizance of : the beauty which we discern in an external object is often but the
reflection of our own minds. — WHITTIER.

Symbols of the Expression of Beauty. — ^Esthetic
feeling is not necessary to existence, but is a kind of
mental gratification free from all consideration of interest,
and sought for itself alone. In the case of the lower
senses, almost all activity has a direct connection with
vital processes taking place in the living frame, with
life-supporting functions. Few sensations of smell, taste,
and touch, are therefore of aesthetic value. But the eye
and the ear have little to do with satisfying mere animal
wants ; both may be absent, and the physical man will
thrive. Hence sight and hearing are distinguished as the
(BstJietic senses. It is through them almost exclusively
that we enjoy beauty, which originally meant that which
delights the eye and the ear.

Taste, smell, and touch, however, may contribute fac-
tors, which in combination are genuine symbols of the
expression of beauty ; but such factors will be found
invariably to have their origin in certain pleasurable

FACTORS OF BEAUTIFUL COMBINATIONS. 45

sensations that are free from all connection with mere
bodily advantage. Every aesthetic feeling is rooted in
such sense pleasure.

Elements of Visible Beauty; Color. — The great mass
of beautiful objects address vision. The arts of painting,
sculpture, and architecture, appeal to this sense alone ; and
most of the sensuous elements that appear in poetry have
reference to color and form. Color and form, then, are
the principal symbols of beautiful expression. Color is
all that the eye primarily perceives ; and the kind of color
perceived depends on the class of optical nerve structures
affected by the undulations of what we call light. Colors,
or combinations of colors, that please these nerve struc-
tures are beautiful ; such as offend them are ugly. Adap-
tation rules here.

Clear, delicate, and artistically contrasted colors give
physiological pleasure, but not all to the same extent.
Man's eyes are made for the blues and greens and grays
rather than for the reds and yellows. The former colors
predominate in external nature ; the latter are of compara-
tively infrequent occurrence. In masses, blue and green
are grateful ; but scarlet occasions sense pain, which is so
acute in some species of birds and quadrupeds as to
arouse their active resentment. But in the small amounts
present in the coloration of flowers and fruits, insects and
birds, red, purple, and orange, may give, first, physiological
pleasure by exercising certain nerve structures that are
seldom stimulated, and, secondly, aesthetic pleasure on the
principle of variety.

The colors which individually give physiological pain
will never awaken the pleasurable emotion of beauty un-
less toned down by their complements in harmonious com-

46 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

binations. When so toned down, they cease to fatigue
and offend the nerve structures concerned in their appre-
ciation. Color harmonies produce the highest physical
gratification, and, as will hereafter be shown, can embody
single ideas that are beautiful and even poetical. Color
discords occasion physiological and intellectual pain.

Color factors are everywhere conspicuous in poetry, and often
serve the purpose of economy, as well as of artistic word painting.
In the lines, —

" Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose,
Flushing his brow, and in his pained heart
Made purple riot," —

Keats describes in a dash of color the irregular contractions of an
excited heart on the blood contained in the ventricles. So Scott as
skillfully touches a gathering ocean storm : —

" The blackening wave is edged with white."

Beautiful contrasts are presented in " Phoebe's sapphire-regioned
star" (from the "Ode to Psyche") and in the following piece of
tinting from " Locksley Hall:" —

" Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through the mellow shade,
Glitter like a swarm of fireflies tangled in a silver braid."

Form. — Mere matter cannot be beautiful until force
sets it in motion, and reduces it to form. This form,
whether of motion itself, or of objects in motion or at
rest, will be beautiful in proportion as it gives pleasure to
the eye in the act of perception. Such pleasure depends
on the ease or difficulty of following the outline, and is to
be separated from, the pleasure color gives, for every form
must be conceived of as colored. Gradual variation in
the parts uniting to make a figure, constant change of

FACTORS OF BEAUTIFUL COMBINATIONS. 47

direction in the outline, imply the expenditure of little
muscular energy in adjusting the eye to take in the form ;
abrupt angles, of much. Nature abhors the straight line,
and knows only the curve, which coincides with the
normal sweep of the eye. Here is an explanation of the
pleasure derived from all graceful forms, — from curves
and spirals in the external world and in art, from curling
smoke and waving grain, from flight of bird and ripple
of stream.

Other things being equal, forms conceived of as in motion are
more attractive than those supposed to be at rest. But there is no
such thing as absolute rest in the universe. All that rest really
means is, that, relatively to some reference point, a form is not chan-
ging its position, is not moving, for instance, over the surface on
which it stands. Rest is thus a special case of motion. Nature's
motions, from the whirl of planets round a sun to the wafting of a
spore, all obey the law of beauty.

Whereas the curve is the law of beautiful form, the fact must not
be overlooked that mathematical figures like squares, and angular
bodies like cut gems and many natural crystals, possess beauty in the
highest degree. This beauty is the beauty of the embodied idea.
The mind sees in them conformity to fixed principles, or unconsciously
connects with their exact proportions the thought of practical adapta-
tion to some useful end. The discovery of this end completes the
mental pleasure.

The beauty of a cut gem or crystal depends somewhat on its
size. It is cognized by the eye at a glance, without fatiguing the
muscles that move the ball. A huge precious stone would be painful
to contemplate.

Elements of Audible Beauty; Music. — Beauty ex-
tends to objects of hearing as well as to those of sight,
characterizing in a high degree certain harmonious com-
binations of agreeable tones that constitute music. Sweet,
soft, subdued sounds are pleasurable, — the silvery tinkle

48 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

of a distant bell, the murmuring of an Anio that lulled
the sleepless Maecenas to rest, the sighing of forest leaves
that invited Sappho to repose. In the following lines
from Thomson's " Spring," the songs of English birds
are united in a rare symphony : —

" The thrush

And woodlark, o'er the kind-contending throng
Superior heard, run through the sweetest length
Of notes; when listening Philomela deigns
To let them joy, and purposes, in thought
Elate, to make her night excel their day.
The blackbird whistles from the thorny brake;
The mellow bullfinch answers from the grove ;
Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze
Pour'd out profusely, silent. Join'd to these
Innumerous songsters, in the freshening shade
Of new-sprung leaves, their modulations mix
Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw,
And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone,
Aid the full concert ; while the stockdove breathes
A melancholy murmur through the whole."

Sounds that are shrill like the scream of steam
whistles, violent as in explosions, harsh like the laughter
and voices of boors, gritty as the filing of a saw, — rapidly
waste the sensitive nerve structures of the ear, inducing
pain and aesthetic abhorrence.

Rhythm, or uniform movement in time, involving the
regular succession of stress and relaxation, of long and
short tones, is aesthetic. Longfellow, addressing Milton
in a sonnet, describes the rhythm of his verse : —

" So in majestic cadence rise and fall
The mighty undulations of thy song."

The ear expects and enjoys the periodic recurrence, and
is pained by a break in the alternation. An exquisite

FACTORS OF BEAUTIFUL COMBINATIONS. 49

sense of rhythm is acquired by careful education in the
verse composition of Greek and Roman poets.

Taste, Smell, and Touch Factors. — Certain sensations
of taste, smell, and even touch, approach the aesthetic
level, and hence find a place in beautiful syntheses or
wholes. Imagination, apprehending them in the real
world, readily reproduces them in art. All such are
entirely separated from life-serving considerations. The
organs of taste and smell guard the entrances to the
stomach and the lungs, and their office is to discrimi-
nate between wholesome and injurious solid, liquid, and
gaseous foods. The tongue tells us whether an article of
diet is fit to be swallowed ; the nose, whether certain air
is safe to breathe. Hence the legitimate functions of these
senses are evidently life-serving. Relishes and odors con-
nected with digestion are far removed from the sphere of
beauty, unless, as in Goldsmith's " Haunch of Venison,"
they are associated with more nearly aesthetic considera-
tions : —

"The haunch was a picture for painters to study,
The fat was so white and the lean was so ruddy :
Though my stomach was sharp, I could scarce help regretting
To spoil such a delicate picture by eating."

Among savors, the sweets and bitters give pure taste pleasure and
taste pain, and hence have a share in aesthetic ideas. Fruit, honey,
wines, introduced into paintings and descriptions, contribute to the
aesthetic thrill excited by the combinations. What a cluster of rich
taste fancies is the following stanza from " The Eve of St. Agnes " ! —

"And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,
In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender'd;
While he from forth the closet brought a heap
Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd;

QUACK RHET. — 4

50 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

With jellies soother than the creamy curd,
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon ;
Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd
From Fez; and spiced dainties, everyone
From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon."

Pure fragrance — as the odor of apple blossoms, the
incense of new-mown hay, the aroma of the woodlands —
has no connection with physical wants, and hence is a
source of aesthetic delight in nature, and when ideally rep-
resented in poetry. The sweetness of the Orient exhales
from these lines of Southey : —

"And oh ! what odors the voluptuous vale
Scatters from jasmine bowers,
From yon rose wilderness,
From clustered henna and from orange groves,
That with sweet perfume fill the breeze ! "

Finally, among the sensations of touch (which include
wet and dry, hard and soft, hot and cold), smoothness
gives aesthetic pleasure, roughness the reverse. The arts
draw freely on this touch element, and poets add it to
their syntheses. Smooth, soft-petaled flowers are the
flowers of verse. The rough, glazed feel of the tiger lily
is repulsive ; but to the rose leaf, the calla cup, and the
violet petal, there is a smoothness and a depth of touch
that is ravishing to the tactual sense.

Imaginative Pleasure due to Association. — The aesthetic
thrill is not entirely due to the pleasurable effects of mere
sense stimulation. Sense factors may be beautiful in
themselves ; their beauty may also be enhanced by asso-
ciation with beautiful ideas. Association implies a con-
nection between memory images of such a nature, that,
when one is called UD for any purpose, it brings with it

BEAUTY DUE TO ASSOCIATION. 51

others that resemble it, or are in contrast to it, that are
the causes or effects of it, that are related to it by cir-
cumstances of time or place.

Events occurring on the same day are thus associated. Things
that are alike suggest one another, as do things that are opposed.
During a storm at sea, pictures of shore scenes persist in presenting
themselves to the imagination. College colors have their associa-
tions ; so such shades as magenta, solferino, and bismarck. Even an
odor or a taste may suddenly conjure up scenes, thoughts, and feelings
long forgotten ; neither may in itself be aesthetic, but the mind may
derive the highest pleasure from the memory images thus restored.
A writer in "All the Year Round" asks: " How many dwellers in
great cities have been carried back in a moment to cottage hearths
and farm homesteads, to boyish wanderings in forest and on moor, to
diamond-latticed windows and sanded floors, to the solemn tick of a
great eight-day clock, and to the loving voices of the dead, by a whiff
of wood smoke or of fir ? "

National and Historical Associations, connected with
our country's struggles, or founded on general events,
heighten emotions of beauty. Such associations render
travel delightful. The meadow of Runnymede, on the
south bank of the Thames, is not devoid of natural attrac-
tions ; yet those who remember it as the scene of the
signing of Magna Charta, which has guaranteed the
rights and liberties of millions, will find few scenes affect
their imaginations so strongly. And what American can
visit the localities consecrated by the blood of his ances-
tors without being touched more deeply than by the
presence of material beauty alone ? In acts of mental
enjoyment, the student should always attempt to sepa-
rate the purely physiological gratification from the more
intense pleasure of association.

THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

QUESTIONS.

With what is aesthetic feeling never connected ? Show how
almost all the activity of the lower senses has to do with life-support-
ing processes. Why are sight and hearing properly the aesthetic
senses ? In connection with color, explain eye pleasure and eye pain,
mental pleasure and mental pain. Show how color factors may serve
the purposes of economy as well as of variety and adaptation. Criti-
cise the color contrast in the following comparison : —

" Each gave each a double charm,
As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm."

In connection with form, explain the relation between beauty and
the consumption of energy in the natural sweep of the eye. What is
motion, and what has it to do with form ? What kinds of motion are
beautiful ? Why are cut gems and mathematical figures -beautiful ?
Distinguish between beautiful and ugly sounds. Define rhythm, and
explain why it gives pleasure. Do you think that the pleasure derived
from rhyme and alliteration can be similarly accounted for ?

What sensations of taste, smell, and touch, approach the aesthetic
level, and why? Is this line from " Evangeline " aesthetically
effective ? —

" Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows."

(Theocritus in his " Idylls," — " Sweet the heifer's music, and sweet the
heifer's breath ; " and Kingsley in " Westward Ho! " — " The air is full
of perfume ; sweet clover, new-mown hay, the fragrant breath of
kine," — employ this factor.) How would you class relishes and dis-
gusts ? Do you know of any cases in which the sense of smell seems
to give mental pleasure to the lower animals ? (The enjoyment of the
scent of game-birds by hunting-dogs.) The soul of Laura Dewey
Bridgman, the deaf, dumb, and blind girl, was reached through her
sense of touch. What does this suggest as to the possibility of
intellectual and aesthetic revelations by this sense ? Can you give
any instances of the use of touch factors in art ?

What is association? Show how it may heighten emotions of
beauty. Illustrate personal, national, and historical associations.

CRITICISM. 53

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

This lesson may be attractively illustrated by having the class
read a portion of Longfellow's " Evangeline," of " Lalla Rookh," of
the " Arabian Nights' Entertainments," the first canto of the " Lady
of the Lake," or Stocldard's poem, " The Squire of Low Degree," with
a view to ascertaining the use and effect of aesthetic sense factors.
The instructor should specially exhibit their combination in aesthetic
syntheses, and make the pupils feel the importance of each one in rela-
tion to the whole. Selected pages from the works named, and from
others that are appropriate, may be assigned in advance to the several
members of the class for aesthetic criticism ; and written paragraphs
may be required embodying the results of their investigations. Stu-
dents quickly learn to take pleasure in this kind of original work,
and to value the knowledge honestly gained far more than facts pla-
giarized from encyclopedias, and carelessly strung together to meet
the requirements in composition. Point out the elements of beauty
in the following sonnet : -

The passionate Summer's dead; the sky's aglow
With roseate flushes of matured desire ;
The winds at eve are musical and low,
As sweeping chords of a lamenting lyre,
Far up among the pillared clouds of fire,
Whose pomp of grand procession upward rolls
With gorgeous blazonry of pictured folds,
To celebrate the Summer's past renown.
Ah me ! how regally the heavens look down,
O'ershadowing beautiful autumnal woods,
And harvest fields with hoarded increase brown,
And deep-toned majesty of golden floods,
That lift their solemn dirges to the sky,
To swell the purple pomp that floateth by.

HAYNE.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Grant Allen's "Physiological Esthetics," Hogarth's "The
Analysis of Beauty," Emerson's " Essay on Beauty."

54 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRIATCIPLES.

LESSON V.

BEAUTY AS MANIFESTED IN ITS MOST INTENSE FORM, OR SUB-
LIMITY. — PICTURESQUENESS. — MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL
BEAUTY. — PATHOS.

Beauty and sublimity are but two extremes, the lower and higher manifesta-
tions of the same qualities. — BASCOM.

The beautiful includes the good. — GOETHE.

A beautiful behavior is better than a beautiful form ; it gives a higher pleasure
than statues or pictures ; it is the finest of the fine arts. — EMERSON.

Sorrow more beautiful than beauty's self. — KEATS.

Sublimity the Supreme Beauty. — When the soul is
more than pleased in its apprehension of beauty, when
it is elevated and transported by the grandeur of the per-
ceived idea, the aesthetic emotion induced is commonly
described as sublime. Sublimity lies in the concord
between majestic means and the highest conceivable
end, the noblest and most sacred purpose. It is simply
supreme beauty.

To the careless observer, the stellar universe is beau-
tiful ; but only he who grasps the moral force behind the
blue, who ascends to the creating and controlling Intellect,
experiences the highest pleasure its beauty can give. The
expression of this moral power in its fullness and majesty,
whether it be through expanse of space, duration in time,
or active physical energy, awakens the most intense phase
of the beautiful emotion.

This Higher Beauty characterizes whatever is surpass-
ingly great, whatever is infinite, — the storm-swept ocean ;
trackless steppes to which the eye discerns no limit ; the

BEAUTY IN ITS MOST INTENSE FORM. 55

march of armies directed by godlike intelligence and will ;
the Pyramids of Egypt, the fruit of mighty toil ; the
" Hamlet " and " King Lear," the work of mighty genius.
The human mind is inadequate to the conception of
infinity (immeasurableness), and intuitively invests what-
ever approaches it with a character of grandeur. Hence
boundless space, endless numbers, and eternal duration
possess this quality.

The Vastness of Minuteness. — Even in the little things
of creation, the mind detects the hand of the Infinite.
Atoms as well as mountain chains reveal the vastness of
the Divine Artificer's resources, and thus excite in a medi-
tative soul a sense of the sublime. So infinitesimally
subtile and minute are the particles of ether, that Tyndall
estimated, if all were swept together from the remotest
corners of space, they could be crowded into a common
matchbox. In like manner the imagination is confounded
by the revelations of the microscope ; the mind is appalled
by the vastness of the invisible world, is embarrassed and
overpowered in its efforts to comprehend the Potency that
fashions the minutest of structures, and becomes filled
with a feeling of intense expansion and elevation.

God the Infinite and Perfect. — No ideas are so sub-
lime as those connected with the Supreme Being, the
least known, but incomparably the greatest, of all exist-
ences, the infinity of whose nature and the eternity of
whose duration, joined to the immensity of his power,
though they transcend our conceptions, yet exalt them in
the highest degree.

The superior power we attribute to all supernatural beings, the
obscurity in which they are veiled, and the awe they awaken in us,
necessarily render them sublime. Darkness and silence also have a

56 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

tendency to oppress the mind, and on this principle excite the emotion
of higher beauty. It is not the sunny landscape or the busy city that
fills us with solemn exaltation, but the weird lake, the forest primeval,
the black recesses of some mammoth cavern.

Disorder not an Element of the Sublime. — Some have
contended that disorder is an element of sublimity ; but
what we call disorder here is really order, — exhibition of
adaptation. The earth's surface, crumpled by volcanic
action into a mountain range, is orderly in that it accords
with the workings of great physical principles ; and as we
contemplate the order in disorder of

" Crags, knolls, and mounds confusedly hurled,
The fragments of an earlier world," —

our minds are again overpowered by a sense of the moral
force behind. " It is not all that I see of the British,"
said Hyder Ali, " that so impresses me, but what I do not
see, — the power beyond the ocean, the power in reserve."
So it is the mysterious ulterior force, acting with refer-
ence to a specific end, that awakens in us the sublime
emotion in its perfection. It is not so much the physical
fact, as the truth of which the fact is an utterance.

Beauty as manifested in the Picturesque. — There is
another manifestation of beauty, not suggestive of active
energy, not overwhelming the mind with impressions of
infinity, yet strikingly vivid withal, and singularly stimulat-
ing to the imagination. This is known as the picturesque.

Picturesqueness is expressed in objects which have a
rugged appearance, in whatever is wildly free, in savage
costumes, and even in barbaric music. A moldering
bridge flung across a chasm, a thatched Gaelic hovel
crumbling on a Skye cliff, a deserted farmhouse draped

MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL BEAUTY. $?

with woodbine, — all fast becoming part of the nature
around them, — are instances of the picturesque.

The archaic rudeness of a poem lends an attraction all its own,
capable of exciting in the mind emotions very different from the soft
and sedative feeling of refined beauty. Ancientness is always pictur-
esque, in language as well as in architecture. Hence, to be properly
appreciated, our early literature must be read in its original form, as it
came from the hands of its creators, never in modernized versions,
shorn of its spirit by attempts to render it intelligible to uneducated
readers. The ruggedness of the antique element cannot be sacrificed
by the substitution of modern forms and modern orthography, without
loss of that mental exhilaration so inseparably associated with the
picturesque. He who cannot commune with our poets in their own
speech must always remain a stranger to the quaint beauty of Chaucer,
the bygone sweetness of Surrey and Sidney, the archaic charm of
Spenser.

Beauty in Character and Mind. — Beauty, finally, may
be shadowed forth in human character and in human intel-
lect. There is a moral phase of the quality exhibited in
thought, word, and action ; and this may be regarded as
its highest manifestation. Moral beauty characterizes all
noble and heroic acts, — dauntless courage, manly resigna-
tion, suffering for others. When in some critical position
a human being forgets all selfish interests, and is controlled
by lofty, inflexible principles, we have an instance of the
noblest type of beauty, implying a perfect agreement
between the law of right and the intelligent creature.

One of the sublimest scenes in human history is that which closed
the career of Socrates. Condemned by a sentence flagrantly unjust,
we find him calmly discussing the question of immortality before his
judges, and without fear, anger, or resentment, striving to prepare
his accusers for death. Many another historical personage similarly
appears in a light almost divine ; and the heroic words of earth's great
men are but the reflections of lofty virtues. The dictum of Regulus,
" I will return to Carthage ; " Caesar's exclamation to the panic-stricken

58 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

boatman, " What do you fear? you carry Caesar! " the " I have kept
the First Day," that doomed to the arena or the stake a hundred thou-
sand martyrs ; Beckefs retort to the assassins, " I will not fly ; " burn-
ing Latimer's " Be of good cheer, Master Ridley, we shall this day
light such a candle in England as, I trust in God, shall never be extin-
guished,"— are all verbal expressions of moral beauty. The gentler
virtues, the Christian graces, excite a softer emotion. In the words of
Whittier, " The good is always beautiful."

Symmetrically developed mental faculties ; perfect har-
mony in their activity ; calmness, sincerity, and strength
in their exercise, — constitute beauty of intellect — a
beauty which impressed Shelley with its " awful loveli-
ness," the source of "truth to life's unquiet dream, of
love to human kind." Moral and intellectual beauty are
idealized in Christ. In him beauty becomes perfection.

Pathos. — When beauty is tinctured with sadness, it
more deeply touches the heart, awakening a tender feel-
ing known as the pathetic. No quality appeals more
widely to human taste, no quality is more elevating to
human character, none more enduring in its power to give
pleasure to generation after generation. " The sufferings
of the heart," said a French philosopher, "add I know
not what grace to life and thought. Less unhappy, many
a man of genius would have been less eloquent."

The pathetic quality is displayed in many of the Hebrew writings,
notably certain of the Psalms, the Book of Ecclesiastes, and the
Lamentations of Jeremiah. The novels of Dickens contain noble
pathetic passages, as do the plays of Shakespeare and of other Eliza-
bethan dramatists. Chaucer's patient Griselda, and Acadian Evan-
geiine, are the most pathetic figures in poetry. Christ, " the man of
sorrows," incarnates the sublime sadness of all time.

The Principles of Beauty the Controlling Principles in
8.11 Rhetorical Procedures. — The laws of beauty as now

PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY. 59

understood, we shall find controlling every rhetorical pro-
cess, guiding our selection of literary material and dictat-
ing our plan of treatment, regulating our choice and
arrangement of words, imparting elegance to our style,
suggesting the chastest imagery for the appareling of our
thoughts, and governing the technic (method of creating)
of every prose and verse form. By deliberate or uncon-
scious adherence to these principles, the world's great
writers created the works which men are everywhere
reading with admiration. So the student of to-day who,
in their light and under their influence, masters and
applies the details of the various processes next to be
studied, may reasonably hope for literary success.

QUESTIONS.

Show that beauty and sublimity are extremes of the same quality ;
that the higher beauty depends on a conditioning moral force. Give
illustrations of sublimity. Can infinite things become the objects
of our senses? Why? Explain the sublimity expressed in obelisks,
pyramids, and megalithic walls. Why is a battle the sublimest of
human spectacles? It is said that Mount Chimborazo commands a
panorama of ten thousand square miles : are you impressed more by
the vastness of such a view, or the creative power behind it?

Describe, if you can, the world of intellectual pleasure that is
thrown open to us by the microscope, by the telescope, by the spectro-
scope. Why are ideas connected with supernatural beings sublime?
Show that disorder is not an element of sublimity. What kind
of beauty do you see in an old stone wall covered with Virginia
creeper ? Define picturesqueness. Give illustrations of this form
of beauty, and characterize the nature and effect of the emotion it
gives rise to. How does the picturesque appear in literature?

Illustrate moral beauty. Define intellectual beauty. Explain the
seeming contradiction in a statement of Whittier's, " Quite the ugliest
face I ever saw was that of a woman whom the world calls beautiful.''
(The presence of vacancy and insipidity, the absence of energy and
intensity.) Discuss fully the theory of pathos.

60 THE BASIS OF RHETORICAL PRINCIPLES.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Let the following passage from Ossian be read aloud, and different
members of the class be called upon to tell why it is sublime : —

"We rushed on either side of a stream which roared through a blasted
heath. High broken rocks were round with all their bending trees. Near
were two circles of Loda, with the stone of power, where spirits descended
by night in dark-red streams of fire. There, mixed with the murmur of
waters, rose the voice of aged men : they called the forms of night to aid
them in their war."

A student may be asked to enlarge upon the sentiment expressed
in the following verse, indicating how the insignificant things of crea-
tion may carry the meditative soul into the presence of the Eternal : —

Flower in the crannied wall,

I pluck you out of the crannies,

I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,

Little flower — but if I could understand

What you are, root and all, and all in all,

I should know what God and man is.

TENNYSON.

Recommend the class to read the first book of " Paradise Lost,"
wherein Milton's Satan appears as the sublimest figure in epic poetry ;
the Clerk's "Tale of Patient Griselda," in the Canterbury series, as a
study in pathos. Assign as a subject for a short paragraph, " To the
devout man of science there is beauty in every atom ; " or Lowell's line,
" And Beauty's best in unregarded things."

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Longinus on the Sublime (Spurdens's translation), Kedney's
The Beautiful and the Sublime," and Hegel's "^Esthetics."

PART II.

LITERARY INVENTION.

LESSON VI.

THE ART OF GATHERING LITERARY MATERIAL.

A great part of every man's life must be employed in collecting materials for
the exercise of genius. Invention is little more than a new combination of those
images which have been previously gathered and deposited in the memory. Nothing
can be made of nothing: he who has laid up no materials can produce no combina-
tions.— SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

If you can tell us something that your own eyes have seen, your own mind has
thought, your own heart has felt, you will have power over us, and all the real power
that is possible for you. — LEWES.

Insist on yourself; never imitate. — EMERSON.

Division of the Subject. — The province of rhetoric
proper is to teach the learner, (i) how to find something
to say or write ; (2) how to say or write it. The finding
is called invention, from a Latin word meaning "to come
or happen upon." The how or manner of expressing what
is found, by writing or speaking, is style. What we are
first to study, therefore, is naturally arranged under the
divisions of literary invention and literary style.

Invention is simply the art of gathering the stuff or
material of expression. But skill in such gathering con-
stitutes one secret of literary success ; what a writer finds
or gathers is largely determinative of his standing.1 In

1 The poets of the Langue d'Oil, or Northern French Dialect, were

called Trouveres, or Finders.

62 LITERARY INVENTION.

the harmonious combination of the gathered parts con-
sists beauty of discourse.

We have seen that man cannot create, that is, make
out of nothing. His forte must lie in the ability to
gather, and to select from the gathered material whatever
is adapted to his purpose. Taste guides him in securing
the best fragments, and in so ordering them as most de-
lightfully to instruct, most heartily to please, or most
thoroughly to convince, his fellow-men. Hence invention
is concerned in the manufacture of new literary forms by
procedures similar to those we have seen taking place in
the workshop of the imagination. Its successful practice
involves a knowledge of the several processes of composi-
tion, — narrating, describing, arguing, and expounding.
There is an established way of creating a piece of litera-
ture in each of these lines, — an essay, a delineation, a
story, — and this way the student can learn.

He must appreciate at the outset, however, that it is not an easy
matter to learn to write prose worth reading ; that every great literary
creation is the result of persistent labor and infinite care. This should
encourage rather than dishearten, — this knowledge that the master-
pieces we admire could have been produced at the cost even of years
of application, and were not sudden inspirations rapidly committed to
writing. Euripides was content with his eight lines a week, but these
lines endure to the present day; Virgil spent eleven years on his
" y£neid ; " Dante grew thin over his " Divine Comedy." " At length,"
exclaimed Goethe, " after forty years, I have learned to write Ger-
man ! " When a novel was finished, George Eliot " felt as if a great
load had been lifted from her shoulders." Facility in ordinary compo-
sition must be the result of practice ; experience proves that it may
always be acquired in the end. " Doubt it not," said Carlyle, " a fac-
ulty of easy writing is attainable.'1'1 But nowhere does the motto of
Erasmus more pointedly apply, " Make haste slowly." The primary
object should be to write as well as possible.

ART OF GATHERING LITERARY MATERIAL. 63

Invention by Meditation. — As soon as a subject for
composition has been decided upon, recourse is had to the
most natural method of gathering ; viz., meditation. If
left to his own selection, the student will choose a subject
about which he knows something, — a topic of the day,-
for instance, in which he is interested ; or some point he
has specially investigated in connection with one of his
studies. But the subject may come to him in the form of
a theme assigned for discussion by a literary or debating
society, and his knowledge of it may be very limited. In
either case, the first thing required is careful, deliberate,
concentrated reflection.

Reflection means turning back. In the act of reflecting,
the mind turns back on its accumulated store of memory
images, and sifts them for material appropriate to what-
ever is under consideration. In the process of composition,
it seeks to ascertain at once whether it has on hand
material that is available. The selective instinct of the
composer tells him what is adapted, and what should be
excluded. Questions that may naturally be asked regard-
ing the subject open avenues to information, one thought
suggesting another, until many related ideas are gathered.
These should be registered in a notebook.1 Thoughts
sometimes occur to us without our knowing whence or

1 The pupil should always be provided with some means of making
notes, if it be nothing more than a vest-pocket memorandum leaf. He will
find frequent occasion to preserve ideas that occur to him, bits of information,
sentiments that strike him as beautiful. These should be transcribed into an
indexed blank book, and preserved for future reference. Professor Edward
Dowden, the Shakespearean scholar, informs us that from boyhood he was
in the habit of copying into his notebooks passages in prose and verse which
he admired ; that is, which addressed themselves to his taste. This prac-
tice, especially if supplemented by that of making original comments on the

64 LITERARY INVENTION.

why they come ; they are suggested by what we see and
hear in the streets and public conveyances. To one who is
on the lookout for them, suitable ideas are met with every-
where. In the course of a few days, the young inventor,
•by dint of patient, well-directed, exhaustive thought in his
study, and quickness to receive suggestions in his hours
of relaxation, will have gathered abundant material rele-
vant to a subject about which he is measurably informed.
He will have identified himself intimately with it, so as to
be able, on sitting down to write, to joint its parts into a
congruous whole.

A noteworthy invention by reflection is the " Paradise Lost,"
composed by Milton in his blindness, when he could only turn back
on a wealth of memory images for his materials.

Invention by Reading. — If the subject selected be
unfamiliar to the student ; if, on faithfully searching the
chambers of memory, he finds them empty of suitable
material, — there are still means of collecting it. Books
suggest themselves at once. Possibly others of wider
experience have thoughts that may be of service ; recourse
is naturally had to reading to find out. Knowledge to-day
consists largely in knowing where to go for information.

Reading is an art. Profitable reading implies consul-
tation of various books and the formation of independent
conclusions. There must be a reaction between reader

passages transcribed, has the effect of developing individuality, and, in
proportion as the extracts are brilliant, of imparting elegance to the style.
Nathaniel Hawthorne, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and Stevenson the novelist,
carried notebooks, which they filled with cursory sketches and descriptions
written at every favorable occasion. Emerson also jotted down his thoughts
at all hours and in all places, and years after wove them together into the
" Essays " that have so deeply influenced American thought.

ART OF GATHERING LITERARY MATERIAL. 6$

and thing read, intellectual digestion and assimilation of
what is gleaned from the pages of others. There must
be thought, both at the time and afterward. " Reading,"
said Locke, " furnishes the mind only with the materials
of knowledge ; it is thinking that makes what we read
ours." It is thinking that shapes what we gather into
new products of our own creation. Ruskin declares in
" Sesame and Lilies : " " You might read all the books in
the British Museum, and remain utterly illiterate ; but, if
you read ten pages of a good book letter by letter (that is,
thoughtfully), you remain forevermore in some measure an
educated person."

Thinking insures the formation of well-defined ideas from the
books read ; and clear ideas mean clear expression. The man with a
vague medley to communicate can never learn how to accomplish bis
object. He who asserts that he knows all about a subject, but cannot
utter his knowledge, is guilty of a psychological falsehood ; for as is
the thought, so is the expression. " Language," in the words of Dr.
Donne, "is but as a dish to serve up the sense." Derive clear ideas
from your reading; take nothing secondhand, but always go to origi-
nal authorities, converting what is gathered from them into substantial
nutriment. " Even the mind of the scholar," wrote Longfellow in
"Hyperion," " if you would have it large and liberal, should come in
contact with other minds." Goethe confessed that every one of his
works had been furnished to him by a thousand different persons.
Bacon regarded all knowledge as his province.

Plagiarism. — Beyond all things, the young inventor
must be honest, must be above appropriating another
person's language, thought, or mode of treatment, and
passing it off as his own. Only facts are common prop-
erty ; but old thoughts may be borrowed, if applied in new
combinations. The inexperienced composer who reads a
single book is almost certain to be guilty of plagiarism,

QUACK. RHET. — 5

66 LITERARY INVENTION.

or literary theft, because he thinks and writes under the
influence of one author, with little independent reflection.
For this reason, an encyclopedia is the worst book of
reference for a beginner, who should never forget that
sincerity is the greatest and rarest of literary virtues —
that originality is most essential to success.

Invention by Conversation. — Failure to evolve mate-
rial by reflection and reading need not discourage the
inventor. He may have no knowledge whatever of the
subject selected or assigned ; there may be no books
bearing on it ; and still there are methods of learning
something about it. In the first place, inquiry would
naturally be made of persons suspected of possessing the
desired information. This is a common practice. In
every graduate school, students are making inquiry of
professors who keep in advance of text-books. They are
really inventing by conversation, in the seminary largely
by the system of question and answer. Nor is it the
highly educated alone who can thus be of service. We
do well to remember that every human being, no matter
how humble his position, is possessed of some knowledge
of which we are ignorant, and may be able to give us
valuable suggestions that we cannot elsewhere obtain. A
clever inventor does not despise the commonplace. Ben
Jonson and Dickens swept the streets of London for the
coveted "stuff and variety."

The " Dialogues of Plato " illustrate this kind of invention. The
" Phaedo," written to prove immortality, repeats the final conversa-
tion between certain of his disciples, and Socrates, who taught truths
undreamed of in the atheistical philosophy of the day; viz., the exist-
ence of a personal God, the deathlessness of the human soul, and a
system of future rewards and punishments.

ART OF GATHERING LITERARY MATERIAL. 6j

Invention by Observation. — It is further conceivable
that a person might wish to gather information about a
subject unmentioned in literature and unknown to experi-
ence. No one can tell him anything about it ; he must
see for himself ; he must observe.

By observation, Professor Barnard discovered at Lick Observa-
tory, Sept. 9, 1892, a fifth moon revolving round the planet Jupiter,
and afterward found its distance from the center of the planet to be
112,500 miles, its period of revolution about twelve hours, and its
diameter only a hundred miles. No one was aware of these facts
before ; they were determined by questioning nature. In like manner,
Professor Pickering, from his mountain observatory at Arequipa, Peru,
found the other four satellites to be elliptical instead of spherical in
form, and the first egg-shaped moon to revolve round the planet, end
over end, in thirteen hours and three minutes.

Civilized man knew nothing of the interior of Alaska north of the
Yukon until Lieutenant Stoney spent three years gathering facts regard-
ing the climate, natural productions, and animal life. His report, as
well as those of Professors Barnard and Pickering, are veritable inven-
tions by observation. From the "Memoirs of the Egyptian Prince
San'eha " (2000 B.C.) to Stanley's " Through the Dark Continent,"
this has been an attractive form of literary invention. Those who
have read the nine books of Herodotus will recall the charm with
which such writings may be invested.

The Inventor may avail himself of all these Methods

in the construction of an essay or book ; but he is not
to forget that facts gathered by his own observation,
bits of personal experience artistically woven together,
are the most valuable, because the most original material.
An account of the discovery of a bed of quartz crystals
in a romantic ledge, of a pothole or Indian kettle in the
channel of a neighboring stream, or of a rare orchid in
some forest depth, is of livelier interest to the reader,
and of infinitely greater value to the young writer as a

68 LITERARY INVENTION.

developer of his individuality, than a labored essay on the
thing discovered summarized from Dana's " Mineralogy,"
Le Conte's " Geology," or Baldwin's " Orchids of New
England."

ILLUSTRATION OF THE PROCESS OF GATHERING THOUGHTS.

Suppose the subject assigned to the class in composition to be
" The Incentives to Study." On reflection, and by observation and
inquiry, such thoughts as the following may suggest themselves to the
composer. As they occur, he jots them down in his notebook.

First Thoughts, on the Way Home from Recitations.— Why
am I at school? I do not believe in study, do not see what good it
does. There's our neighbor, Mr. Pond, perfectly ignorant, can't even
talk grammatically, thinks the moon is on fire and so gives us light ;
but he is a successful business man, and lives in the handsomest house
in town. This Greek, Latin, and algebra, is all nonsense. This going
to college will never make one any more capable of battling with the
world, and amassing a fortune. That ragged boy, Perley Johnson,
catching fish off the bridge, is happier than I. Wonder if that little
perch feels and knows anything consciously. There are people that
think fishes have intellects, and love, and get angry, and all that, after
a fashion. I'll ask Dr. Wright about it this very evening. I'm quite
sure they remember. Fudge ! what has all this to do with that subject
for composition? And yet it does seem to me that I am better than
that boy whom I thought just now so much happier than I because he
had nothing to do but fish. He doesn't know anything about the
Trojan War ; he never heard of Cicero or Homer. Well, it may be
that all men are born free ; but it doesn't seem to me they are all equal.
What makes the difference?

Three Hours later. — Lessons all learned ; not such hard work,
after all, to translate thirty lines of the "yEneid." What shall I do
now? I believe I'll finish " Romola," and then at eight o'clock I'll go
round to Dr. Wright's and ask him those questions, and perhaps find
an opportunity of looking through his microscope. Wonder if that
boy could understand George Eliot, or appreciate what the microscope
reveals. I do not believe I could enjoy either, if I had not read and
studied so much. There does seem to be some use in study.

Second Morning. — I'm utterly discouraged.. That Dr. Wright

ART OF GATHERING LITERARY MATERIAL. 69

knows so much ! There's no use in my trying to learn everything.
The more I see into what they call knowledge, the more I am con-
vinced that I know nothing at all. Shall I give up school and college?
What does this word study mean ? I have not given much thought
to a definition. I'll talk with my friend Matthews, who has just grad-
uated from Harvard, and with Miss Yardley, who is home on a vaca-
tion from Cornell. I'm going to find out what they think of the
advantages of education.

Second Afternoon. — Why, they both tell me they have to choose
from among groups of related studies ; they do not have to study
everything, they study what they like. Humph ! if I could study
what I like, I'd never look into a mathematical text-book again.

Third Morning. — I've been talking about the elective system to
Dr. Wright, who once was president of a college. He tells me one
must be proficient in geometry, at least, before he is prepared to
choose ; that mathematics is a disciplinary study, has some use, —
develops the logical faculties, contributes its part toward the making
of a symmetrical mind, and that is something every human being
should possess. And then he says that studying what you like in
college means selecting such studies as have a close relation to the
profession you expect to practice. So I must keep up the mathe-
matics.

Third Afternoon. — Miss Jones of Elm Street has just returned
from Wellesley, entirely broken down in health. They say she has
overworked, has too much ambition. How absurd to work yourself to
death for college standing ! It is rumored that she doesn't know any-
thing outside the text-books, has never had time to read. I believe
her incentive to be an unworthy one. Let us see, there are worthy in-
centives, then, and unworthy incentives. Are mine worthy incentives?

Fourth Day. — Election Day, and no school. Wish I were old
enough to vote ! How wrong it seems that a lot of ignorant men, some
of whom can neither read nor write, should be allowed a voice in the
management of public affairs — in school affairs, of all things ! I
believe in an educational provision ; but, if all men are to have the
right of suffrage, education should be made compulsory. How one's
ideas will change in a few days ! I find on the first page of my note-
book the entry, " I do not believe in study, do not see what good it
does." It certainly must make better voters.

Fifth Day. — I heard our clergyman, who returned this spring
from a tour in the East, lecture last evening on "Ancient Egyptian

7O LITERARY INVENTION.

Literature and Art." He read us translations of writings more than
five thousand years old, and told us of the fairy tales and fables and
scientific treatises of the Egyptians, and of the education of their chil-
dren in grammar, literature, and morals. It must be pleasant to know
so much. Query : Would the simple love of learning for itself be
regarded as a worthy incentive to study?

Sixth Day. — I have been thinking of this pure love of learning,
and it seems a little selfish. Unless I use my learning for the good of
others, it becomes the talent in a napkin. I know there are scholars
who gather information exclusively for their own enjoyment. Selfish
men they seem to me. I have somewhere read a Persian proverb to
this effect: " He who learns, and makes no use of his learning, is a
beast of burden with a load of books." I begin to see a noble incen-
tive to study, — the acquisition of knowledge to be used for the
improvement of one's fellow-beings. The motive must be the test
of worthiness. I will finish my week's work by reading Herbert
Spencer's book on " Education."

The Diary of a Beginner would read somewhat like the
above. This tangle of desultory thoughts and observa-
tions is the germ of an essay. Abundant material is now
at hand. From these ideas, others will naturally spring
during the process of writing. Before proceeding to this,
however, it will be necessary to arrange these thoughts
in proper order, so that a logical connection may be pre-
served throughout. A framework must be built ; and the
manner of constructing it will be explained in the next
lesson.

QUESTIONS.

Under what two heads do the questions connected with rhetoric
dispose themselves? Define literary invention; literary style. Illus-
trate the action of taste in the process of inventing. Is inventive
facility rapidly attainable? Illustrate your answer.

Describe invention by reflection. What purpose may test ques-
tions serve? Characterize the habit of always carrying a notebook.
What great writers benefited by this practice, and how? Instance a
master work invented by reflection. What does profitable reading

ART OF GATHERING LITERARY MATERIAL. 7 1

imply? What does thinking insure? Define plagiarism. State the
value of literary honesty. Describe and illustrate invention by conver-
sation ; invention by observation. Show how these different kinds of
invention may be employed in the creation of an essay. Roughly
draft thoughts appropriate to the subject, "The Incentives to Study."

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Ask a number of the class to explain orally or in writing what
Goethe meant by saying, "In this world there are so few voices and
so many echoes."

Make the following lines from " Aurora Leigh" the subject of a
verbal criticism or a short written exercise : —

" We get no good

By being ungenerous, even to a book,
And calculating profits, — so much help
By so much reading. It is rather when
We gloriously forget ourselves, and plunge
Soul-forward, headlong, into a book's profound,
Impassioned for its beauty and salt of truth, —
Tis then we get the right good from a book."

Prepare an invention similar to that illustrated in this lesson on
one of the following subjects : Plants or Minerals of the Region. —
Neighboring Caves or Grottoes. — Any Public Building accessible to
the Pupil. — The Public Services of any Distinguished Man. — Prep-
aration for College. — My Companions. — Amusements in General. —
The Story of Some Play or Opera.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

RuskhVs " Sesame and Lilies;" Emerson's essays on "Books,"
"Self-reliance," " Quotation and Originality;" for the difference be-
tween imaginative creation and imitation, Edgar A. Poe's article
entitled " Longfellow and other Plagiarists " (Stoddard's edition Poe's
Works, vol. v.).

LITERARY INVENTION.

LESSON VII.

ORDERING OF THE GATHERED MATERIAL. —AMPLIFICATION.

A skeleton is not a thing of beauty ; but it is the thing which, more than any
other, makes the body erect and strong. — DR. AUSTIN PHELPS.

Order and proportion, how much is included in those two words ! the whole
logic of style indeed. Disproportion or unsuitability is the stigma of inferior artists,
as it is in politics, civilization, and morality, the mark of inferior epochs, and nations
behind the rest — VINET.

Construction of a Framework. — The second step in
invention is the analysis of the crude material collected
with a view to constructing a framework of heads under
which the gathered thoughts may be arranged logically,
economically, and proportionally. When, then, reflec-
tion, reading, and observation, have furnished a potpourri
of hints and facts, the student must deliberately
decompose the medley, and classify his matter. A prac-
tical way of doing this is to read carefully the whole
collection, indicating by figures the order in which the
thoughts seem naturally and gracefully to arrange them-
selves.

The principles of association (see p. 51) will assist the
inventor in securing coherence, i.e., suitable connection
or dependence. Having determined which of the many
thoughts should first be presented to the reader's mind,
he will next find one that is associated with it through
the relation of cause and effect, of resemblance or contrast,
of contiguity in time or place. This he will assign the
second position in his skeleton, and so on, In such

ORDERING OF THE GATHERED MATERIAL. 73

logical progress, his steps will be easy to follow, and even
to anticipate ; and if, as he advances, he has regard also
to the order of importance, — arranges the ideas so that
they exhibit a gradual rise or growth in strength and
impressiveness, — he will secure and retain the liveliest
interest on the part of those he is addressing. Order
may characterize the disposition of pieces in the frame-
work, as of stones in a temple, causing them to become
eloquent in their very adaptations.

In all this, the constructive imagination will keep con-
stantly in sight the leading subject of inquiry and the
relationship to it of each utilized thought, rigidly reject-
ing whatever does not add to the effect of the whole.
Unity in variety is as necessary here as to any other work
of art.

The philosophy of the analytic process is admirably described by
Ruskin : " A powerfully imaginative mind seizes and combines at the
same instant all the important ideas of its poem or picture ; and while
it works with any one of them, it is at the same instant working with
and modifying all in their relations to it, never losing sight of their
bearings on each other ; as the motion of a snake's body goes through
all parts at once, and its volition acts at the same moment in coils
that go contrary ways."

. Proportion an Important Requisite. — One great es-
sential of a perfect framework is harmony as expressed
in proportion, a suitable comparative relationship among
the several divisions. In no other mental operation con-
nected with analysis is the beginner as likely to fail as in
exercising a sense of proportion. The relative value of
each head must be carefully estimated, and the space
given to its treatment gauged accordingly. A conspicu-
ous defect is a disproportionate introduction ; the part

74 LITERARY INVENTION.

that should be short and pointed is expanded until it
occupies half or more of the composition.

By limiting the number of the main divisions, restrict-
ing them to central thoughts that are well defined, and
grouping about these the subheads, both proportion and
effective form are secured.

Importance of the Analysis. — Persons in the habit of
writing much almost invariably construct, either mentally
or on paper, a preliminary framework of each subject,
to serve as a guide in developing their thoughts. The
lawyer draws up a brief of his points ; the clergyman, an
abstract of his sermon. Certainly a novice should never
attempt to improvise a plan during the act of writing an
exercise. The two things cannot be well done at the
same time. When a specialist sits down to write a book,
he draws the subjects of its several chapters directly from
his stock of ideas on hand, dispensing with the formality
of writing out an invention of arbitrarily connected
thoughts. He mentally sees his subject in its logical
entirety, and grasps the plan of presentation that will
render it most intelligible and attractive to his group of
readers. In this case, the fact must not be overlooked,
that the author's life has been devoted to gathering, and
packing the gathered material systematically away in the
pigeonholes of memory.

If much time be given to the Consideration of a subject, any
author, as new material is accumulated, will find occasion to modify
the order of heads in his analysis, to add or subtract thoughts. The
student is recommended to read over his outline from day to day with
such a purpose in view, and never, in the beginning of his course, to
undertake the preparation of an essay at one sitting. The mind must
have time properly to do its work with the very skeleton ; and this
operation of analyzing is a mental discipline reacting in the develop-

ORDERING OF THE GATHERED MATERIAL. 75

ment of intellectual strength and penetration. The greatest mind
that America ever produced, that of Daniel Webster, was phenome-
nally analytic. After some experience in composition, the habit of
writing something every day from an analysis seen clearly by the mind's
eye, is to be cultivated. Such practice leads rapidly to perfection.

The Laws of the Framework may be summarized as
Coherence (natural cleaving together of the parts — op-
posed to the idea conveyed by disjointed, disconnected} ;
Sequence ( order that will most forcibly express the coher-
ing thoughts) ; Proportion ; and Unity. The principle of
harmony explains them all.

If these principles of the framework be applied to
the collection of thoughts assumed in the preceding lesson
as an illustration of everyday gathering, order will at once
be evolved from the confusion, and all surplusage will be
shorn away.

ANALYSIS OF AN ESSAY ON THE INCENTIVES TO STUDY.

I. Definition and General Introduction. — What is study?
Surely, not plodding. Shakespeare right in " Love's Labor's Lost,"
— "Small have continual plodders ever won." Proper study does
not narrow the mind while filling it with knowledge. Study in-
volves thinking ; it is not mechanically committing facts to memory.
Confucius, the Chinese philosopher, truly said, " Learning without
thought is labor lost." Study, moreover, implies judicious selection
of material. A lifetime would suffice to place but a fraction of science
and literature within our grasp. We must decide at the threshold
what knowledge is the most important to us, and devote ourselves to
that exclusively.

Now, why do so many men forego pleasure and comfort for the
life of self-denial that study means? It is because the cultivation
of the intellectual faculties places within their reach all kinds of
possibilities in the line of wealth, influence, and social position. Men
covet education from motives worthy and unworthy. It is the pur-
pose of the present essay to investigate certain ruling inducements to
study, considered in the order of their worthiness.

76 LITERARY INVENTION.

II. Mere Ambition. — Worldly distinction, the motive. Great
scholars are reverenced. Knowledge is everywhere respected. The
learned constitute an aristocracy above that of birth or of wealth.
Learning insures social position. Danger in this motive. Scholar-
ship should imply humility.

III. Occupation. -- The mind must have exercise, something to
do. Many study for entertainment, thereby proclaiming their pref-
erence for intellectual over sensual pleasures. A noble choice.

IV. Love of Learning for itself. — Others study because they,
love to study ; and there are studies that none can pursue without
loving. The labor involved itself becomes a pleasure.

V. Preparation for the Duties of Life. — The true aim of educa-
tion is to teach us how to live in the widest sense. A high incentive,
— that we may learn in what way properly to treat the body, in what
way intelligently to develop the mind, how successfully to manage
property and to conduct business, to bring up a family, to discharge
the duties of citizenship.

VI. Highest Incentive. — Desire for the ability to use all our
faculties for the highest good of ourselves and our fellow-men. Illus-
trations.

• VII. Conclusion. — The ideal incentive to study, — perfect devel-
opment of the spiritual nature, complete preparation for the spiritual
life. He who binds his soul to such knowledge "steals tha key of
heaven."

Here, in its proper form, is an abstract of what the
composer intends to say. The formal divisions and words
are merely the means of insuring a proper arrangement
and exhaustive examination of the subject. What remains
to be done is the expansion of the ideas under the sev-
eral heads, by the addition of appropriate material, into a
complete and consistent whole. This is rhetorical Ampli-
fication.

The Process of Composing thus consists of Three
Steps : — (i) Roughly drafting all the thoughts suggested
by the subject ; (2) Arranging these into a formal plan ;
(3) Amplifying the plan into a piece of literature. Much

AMPLIFICA TION.

is to be gained by following this method, to which Benja-
min Franklin attributed his literary success ; because, in
his words, "the mind attending first to the sentiments
alone, next to the method alone, each part is likely to be
better performed, and, I think, too, in less time."

Revision completes the work of the composer. Before
it is attempted, an interval should be allowed to elapse, so
that the writer may in a measure forget the expressions
he has used, and criticise his work as impartially as if it
were the production of another.

To insure time for this important examination, at least a week
should be allowed for the preparation of each exercise, the first part
of which should be appropriated by the student to its composition, and
the remainder to its careful correction. In revising, each sentence,
and then each paragraph, should be read aloud slowly and distinctly,
that the ear may aid the eye in detecting faults of grammar and in
securing rhetorical harmony throughout.

A clean copy is next to be made, in doing which regard must be
had to general neatness. A careless habit of writing is apt to lead to
a careless habit of composing, a careless habit of study, and a careless
habit of life. What is worth doing at all is worth doing well ; and
therefore, though it may seem to some a trifling matter, the careful
student will see that his exercise is presented in the most orderly
form. The most convenient paper is thesis paper, which is so ruled
as to leave on each side, and also at the top and bottom of the
sheet, a liberal margin for the remarks of the critic. The subject
should occupy a line by itself, should be equally distant from both
margins, and should be written in a larger hand than the body of the
essay. Each paragraph, or unit of the discourse, containing what is
written under each head of the analysis, should begin at a line ruled
lightly in pencil an inch and a half to the right of the left-hand
margin.

Amplification determines how the winnowed and logi-
cally ordered material shall be said. The remainder of
this book is really devoted to rhetorical amplification, to

/8 LITERARY INVENTION.

answering the question how. It first explains expan-
sion — in the order of the different heads of the frame-
work — under the several technical divisions of a discourse,
viz., the introduction, the proposition, the discussion, and
the conclusion, — in the form either of description, narra-
tion, argument, or exposition.

As little amplification as possible should be required of the pupil
until the principles of these processes of discourse are thoroughly
understood. He may be profitably occupied for a time in gathering,
and in analyzing as indicated in the following exercise. Such short
expositions or written paragraphs as have heretofore been suggested,
consisting of sentences that cohere and have sequence, are expressions
of a single idea, and may be constructed without prejudice to proper
literary development by pupils proficient in grammar, and grounded
in the principles of beauty. The theory of the paragraph, and the
combination of paragraphs in a composition, will be explained later
(p. 249).

QUESTIONS.

Given a mass of gathered thoughts, facts, and illustrations, how is
the inventor to secure sequence, proportion, and unity? Explain the
mental operations involved. Give the substance of Ruskin's descrip-
tion of analysis. Why is proportion so often lacking? How is it to
be attained ?

State the importance of the analytic procedure. Under what cir-
cumstances may the process of formal gathering be dispensed with ?
May the order of heads be modified? May the practice of writing
daily themes be beneficial ? Sum up the general laws of the frame-
work. Place on the blackboard a framework obtained by the appli-
cation of these laws to the rough draft of thoughts on " The Incentive
to Study." Name the three steps in the process of composing, and
state the advantages of this method.

State your opinion of careful revision ; of allowing an interval to
elapse between the act of composing and revising. Do you know
of any authors who gave years to revision ? Describe the process of
revision. Do you see any way in which copying affords opportunity
for further improvement in style, etc. ?

CRITICISM. 79

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Read Milton's " Areopagitica ; or Speech for the Liberty of
Unlicenc'd Printing ; " Lowell's essay on Izaak Walton ; or any brief
classic that may be accessible. Carefully analyze the work you select,
with a view to determining the heads the author follows. Write these
out in the form of a framework, and discuss this framework. Give
your opinion of the logical arrangement and classification of the mate-
rial, and of the precision and fullness with which the separate heads
are treated. Is the thought associated thought? Is the order natural,
and easy for the reader to remember? Do the ideas cohere? Is
climax regarded? Are the principles of the framework as you have
learned them applied by the author?

Evolve a plan from the draft of thoughts you presented at the
last recitation in connection with the subject you selected, and submit
it for criticism.

[NOTE. — The instructor is urged to have every exercise read in
the presence of the class, inviting criticisms from all. It is surprising
to see how rapidly this practice develops a critical taste, and what a
happy effect this taste produces in turn on the style of those in whom
it is awakened. Care is to be taken that the beginner is not discour-
aged by too severe or exhaustive criticism. As the pupil advances,
his performances may be more closely examined, and his attention
directed to nicer points.]

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Higginson's " Hints on Writing," Edgar A. Poe's essay on the
" Philosophy of Composition."

80 LITERARY INVENTION.

LESSON VIII.

FORMAL DIVISIONS OF A DISCOURSE.

When we are employed after a proper manner in the study of composition, we
are cultivating reason itself. — DR. BLAIR.

English composition deservedly occupies in our schools an important position,
and is rightly regarded as a means of training the mind to think, as well as to
express thought. — THE RECTOR OF GREAT GONERBY.

The Four Natural Divisions of a Theme. — The thoughts
logically arranged in the framework are amplified in the
order there indicated, with reference to certain divisions
or parts into which any discourse naturally resolves itself.
The theme, with its legitimate limits and particular ob-
ject, must be precisely stated at the outset. Such formal
statement is called the Proposition. The theme as defined
in the proposition must next be amplified in accordance
with the plan adopted. Such amplification is technically
called the Discussion. The proposition and the discussion
are obviously essential divisions ; the discussion constitut-
ing the substance of every literary work. Additional, but
non-essential, parts are the Introduction, or preliminary
discourse, and the Conclusion.

This fourfold classification has come down to us from Greek and
Roman teachers, and is instinctively adopted by all writers. Some
add a fifth formal division between the proposition and the discussion ;
viz., the analysis, or the decomposition of the theme into its heads
and subheads. Except in the case of certain forms of legal or theo-
logical argument, it is usual to omit the analysis.

The Subject. — Every piece of literature supposes a
subject or topic, in the selection of which certain princi-

FORMAL DIVISIONS OF A DISCOURSE. 8 1

pies are involved. First, the law of adaptation must be
consulted. The subject must harmonize with the mental
capacity, tastes, and environment of the writer. In his
"Tractate of Education," Milton, in full agreement with
Horace and other critics, deprecates forcing beginners " to
compose themes which are the acts of ripest judgment
and of a head filled with long reading." Conformity to
this phase of harmony does not necessarily mean familiar-
ity with the subject. The student need know nothing of
his theme beforehand ; but it must be one upon which he
can thoroughly inform himself by reasonable effort.

It has been said that a person who knows nothing of a subject
will usually write a better book on that subject than one who has
made it a specialty. The reason is, that such an author assumes
nothing on the part of his readers, puts himself entirely in their
place, spontaneously selects all they wish to know, and expresses it
intelligibly.

Adaptedness of Subject implies interest in it on the
part of the writer ; and interest insures hearty, sincere
investigation. Furthermore, there must be interest on
the part of the hearers or readers as well ; and to evoke
this interest the subject must be adapted to their feelings
and thoughts, — a most important essential. Themes that
are novel as well as momentous perfectly fulfill this condi-
tion. The subject is also to be adapted to the occasion
which called it forth and to the object which the writer
desires to accomplish. The " Areopagitica," the subject
of the recent exercise in analysis, failed to secure the
abolition of the censorship of the press, because its lofty
motives were out of harmony with the times.

Unity of Subject. — In the second place, the subject

QtACK. RHET. — 6

82 LITERARY INVENTION.

must not be so comprehensive — cover so much ground —
as to make unity in its treatment impossible. The young
writer should have one object clearly in view, and that
object must be indicated in a duly narrowed subject.

The abstract topic, " Fiction," for instance, suggests so many dif-
ferent lines of thought that the composer is bewildered and crippled ;
thus, Fiction as a Literary Form, Schools of Fiction, Philosophy of
Fiction, Province of Fiction, Newspaper Fiction, Psychological Fic-
tion, Religious Fiction, Politics in Fiction, Art in Fiction, Disease as
depicted in Fiction, Crime in Fiction, Fashion in Fiction, Historical
Fiction, Fiction in the Pulpit, Success in Fiction, Moral Purpose in
Fiction, Value of Fiction, Fiction Fair and Foul, Abuse of Fiction,
Dangers of Sensational Fiction, French Fiction, Immorality in Mod-
ern Fiction, the Charm of Fiction, Craving for Fiction, Fiction for the
People, Fiction for Children, Responsibility of Writers of Fiction. If
the student write on such a topic, it must be only after a most super-
ficial and unsatisfactory fashion. But let a single direction be given to
his ideas by narrowing the subject to this, " The Propriety of Teaching
Religious Truth through the Medium of Fiction," and apprehension at
once becomes distinct, a definite nucleus is established round which
to group collected facts ; and gathering in the contracted field becomes
easy.

Finally, the subject should express the proposition
exactly, concisely, and in a way to stimulate reflection.
What the subject is to an essay, its title should be to a
book, — original, short, expressive of the contents. The
object of the title is to describe the book accurately to
readers likely to be interested in its pages ; care should
be taken that it be not obscure or misleading.

The Introduction, or Exordium,1 ushers in the theme.
It is simply the approach to the discussion, a preliminary
statement or explanation ; and its object, according to

Exordium is a Latin word meaning " the warp of a web ; a beginning."

FORMAL DIVISIONS OF A DISCOURSE. 83

Cicero, is to render the hearers well-disposed, attentive,
and open to persuasion. Rendering the hearers well-dis-
posed, that is, establishing harmony between their feelings
and the sentiment of the discourse, at times requires
consummate tact, especially where there is prejudice to
remove, or outright hostility to subdue. Not until this
is accomplished, however, will the listeners become suffi-
ciently interested to give attention to what follows.

To secure the desired attitude on the part of his audi-
ence or group of readers, the author must be modest in
opening his theme ; not promising too much, and thus
awakening expectations that may be disappointed. He
must convey the impression of candor and earnestness.
He must shun all vehemence, as early exhibition of pas-
sion is sure to be construed as an evidence of prejudice,
or to alienate minds not yet in harmony with his heated
imagination. Finally, he must forswear a long or irrele-
vant preamble. The one argues a reluctance to enter
upon the discussion ; the other, inexcusable indolence or
deplorable mental incapacity. Both are confessions of
fatal weakness.

The Introduction to be written after the Discussion. —
An introduction, to be easy and natural, to seem to have
sprung spontaneously from the body of the theme, should
not be composed until the discourse is completed and the
author has before him what he wishes to introduce. In-
difference to this principle betrays the young composer
into lavishing his supreme effort on the exordium, which
he crowds with irrelevant matter, and expands to a dispro-
portionate length. Then, finding himself bankrupt of
time, he hurriedly patches on a brief and ill-considered
discussion.

84 LITERARY INVENTION.

Tentative or experimental introductions are sometimes written in
advance to serve as general guides to the writer. Such introductions
are carefully altered as the amplification progresses.

The Introduction assumes many Forms. — That most
frequently employed involves a statement respecting the
general class to which the subject belongs, and an easy
descent from this to the particular case in question. An
illustration of this type is the following introduction to an
essay on gracefulness, by Herbert Spencer : -

" The doctrine that beauty is our general name for certain quali-
ties of things which are habitually associated with our gratifications,
and that thus our idea of beauty is a result of accumulated pleasurable
experiences, — a doctrine with which, under an expanded form, I
wholly agree, — has not, I think, been applied to that quality of form
and movement which we term grace. The attribute to which we apply
this term clearly implies some perfection in the thing possessing it.
We do not ascribe this attribute to cart horses, tortoises, and hippo-
potami, in all of which the powers of movement are imperfectly devel-
oped ; but we do ascribe it to greyhounds, antelopes, race horses, all
of which have highly efficient locomotive organs. What, then, is this
distinctive peculiarity of structure and action?"

An Allusion to some well-known fact, tradition, or story,
is a happy, because an out-of-the-ordinary and unconven-
tional, way of opening a subject. Sometimes an introduc-
tion rivets attention at once by assuming the form of a
question ; sometimes it engages interest by correcting an
erroneous impression.

Thus Cicero inquires at the opening of his second " Philippic:"
"To what destiny of mine, O Conscript Fathers! shall I say it is
owing, that none for the' last twenty years has been an enemy of the
republic without at the same time declaring war against me?" And
Sallust begins his " Jugurthine War" with the paragraph : " Mankind
complain unreasonably of their nature, that, being weak and short-lived,

FORMAL DIVISIONS OF A DISCOURSE. 85

it is governed by chance rather than intellectual power ; but you will
find upon reflection that there is nothing more noble or excellent, and
that to nature is wanting rather human industry than ability or time.
If man had as much regard for worthy objects as he has spirit in the
pursuit of what is useless, unprofitable, and even perilous, he would
not be governed by circumstances more than he would govern them,
and he would attain to a point of greatness at which, instead of being
mortal, he would be immortalized by glory."

The Historical Introduction is generally explanatory of
the purpose of the narrator. Prescott introduces his " His-
tory of the Reign of Philip the Second " as follows : —

" In a former work I have endeavored to portray the period when
the different provinces of Spain were consolidated into one empire
under the Fule of Ferdinand and Isabella ; when, by their wise and
beneficent policy, the nation emerged from the obscurity in which it
had so long remained behind the Pyrenees, and took its place as one
of the great members of the European commonwealth. I now pro-
pose to examine a later period in the history of the same nation, —
the reign of Philip the Second ; when, with resources enlarged, and
territory extended by a brilliant career of discovery and conquest, it
had risen to the zenith of its power."

A Dramatic Performance may be formally introduced
by a Prologue, as in Ben Jonson's " Every Man in His
Humour." The author here condemns the inartistic
method of the new romantic school, its defiance of tech-
nic, its indifference to unity, etc. He promises to restrict
comedy to the everyday actions of men. He does not
purpose pandering to vulgar pleasure. He will not write
dramas to charm the public ear, but to educate it.

PROLOGUE.

Though need make many poets, and some such
As art and nature have not bettered much;
Yet ours for want hath not so loved the stage,
As he dare serve the ill customs of the age,

86 LITERARY INVENTION.

Or purchase your delight at such a rate,

As, for it, he himself must justly hate:

To make a child now swaddled, to proceed

Man, and then shoot up, in one beard and weed,

Past threescore years ; or, with three rusty swords,

And help of some few foot and half-foot words,

Fight over York and Lancaster's long jars,

And in the tyring-house bring wounds to scars.

He rather prays you will be pleased to see

One such to-day, as other plays should be ;

Where neither chorus wafts you o'er the seas,

Nor creaking throne comes down the boys to please :

Nor nimble squib is seen to make afeard

The gentlewoman ; nor rolled bullet heard

To say, it thunders ; nor tempestuous drum

Rumbles, to tell you when the storm doth come ;

But deeds, and language, such as men do use,

And persons, such as comedy would choose,

When she would shew an image of the times,

And sport with human follies, not with crimes.

Except we make them such, by loving still

Our popular errors, when we know they're ill.

I mean such errors as you'll all confess,

By laughing at them, they deserve no less:

Which when you heartily do, there's hope left then,

You, that have so graced monsters, may like men.

The grandest of poetical introductions occurs at the
beginning of the third book of " Paradise Lost," and is
especially deserving of notice as an embodiment of pathos.

The Introduction may be omitted. — Some subjects do
not require a formal introduction. In cases where the
avenues of approach have been thoroughly trodden by
those addressed, any preliminary statement would be su-
perfluous and enervating. It is better to say what is to
be said at once. Amid the excitements of the Catilina-
rian conspiracy, Cicero brushed aside all formality in his
first crushing blow at the profligate : " When, O Catiline !

FORMAL DIVISIONS OF A DISCOURSE. 8/

do you mean to cease abusing our patience ? How long is
your madness still to mock us ? When is there to be an
end of your unbridled audacity ? " Blunt as such direct-
ness may seem, it was in harmony with the circumstances
of the case, it was business-like, it was poignant. The
crisis admitted of no delay.

Lamb's " Essay on Poor Relations" opens with equal abruptness.
" A poor relation is the most irrelevant thing in nature, a piece of
impertinent correspondency, an odious approximation, a haunting
conscience," etc. Bacon's " Essay on Discourse " dispenses with intro-
ductory remarks. Many other essayists and orators either omit the
introduction, or make it conspicuously brief and direct.

The Proposition is the formal definite statement of the
subject of the discourse. It presents clearly and precisely
the leading thought or design which gives unity to the
theme, thus indicating the scope of the discussion. A
carefully narrowed subject really expresses the proposition,
so that as a technical division the latter may be dispensed
with. Where formality is undesirable, the proposition is
made to close the introduction, as in the analysis illus-
trated on p. 75.

The writer's taste will suggest the best time and way
of informing his readers or hearers where he is about to
lead them. Ignatius Donnelly begins his " Atlantis "
thus : —

"This book is an attempt to demonstrate several distinct and
novel propositions. These are : —

"I. That there once existed in the Atlantic Ocean, opposite the
mouth of the Mediterranean Sea, a large island, which was the rem-
nant of an Atlantic continent, and known to the ancient world as
Atlantis."

And so on, through thirteen propositions.

88 LITERARY INVENTION.

The Analysis or Division makes known the heads to
be developed in discussing the theme. As already shown,
in many cases formal analysis of this kind is unnecessary.
If it be employed, care should be taken that the heads an-
nounced be few, distinct, logical, and exhaustive. Of course
these heads will be those that constitute the framework.

The Discussion is nothing more than the amplification
or unfolding of the framework, by resolving the general
statements there made into particulars ; by various forms
of repetition ; by the insertion of allusions, anecdotes, and
quotations, which illuminate and strengthen ; and by the
use of apt comparisons, which often convey more infor-
mation than pages of description.

The particular form given to the discussion will depend
on the object in view. It may be a narration, a descrip-
tion, an argument, or a didactic essay. The principles
governing the expression of themes in these different
forms will be unfolded at once, so that the amplifier may
know how to relate facts, tell qualities, convince, and give
instruction, in accordance with rhetorical law. But in
each instance he must confine himself strictly to his
framework ; digressions are not to be tolerated.

The Conclusion, in an argumentative discourse called
the Peroration, sums up compactly, or recapitulates, the
leading points of the discussion, clearly demonstrating
their bearing as parts of. a unity ; or it strengthens the
reasoning adduced by an appeal to the conscience, judg-
ment, or feelings. Like the introduction, it is a most
important division of the theme. As the object of the
former is to attract and prepossess, that of the conclusion
is to leave a powerful impression. Hence the conclusion
is the place where beauty of thought and expression should

FORMAL DIVISIONS OF A DISCOURSE. 89

culminate. Further, no theme should close otherwise
than in a climax of enthusiastic interest or overpowering
conviction. The advice of Dr. Leif child, based on his
own practice, is in point : —

" Begin low, proceed slow,

Take fire, rise higher,
Be self-possessed when most impressed,
At the end wax warm, and sit down in a storm."

When to Conclude. — To know when to conclude is a gift
lacking in many otherwise good writers. " A conclusion,"
says Archbishop Whately, " should be neither sudden and
abrupt (so as to induce the hearer to say, ' I did not know
he was going to leave off ') ; nor again so long as to excite
the hearer's impatience after he has been led to expect an
end. It is a common fault with the extempore speaker,
on finding himself listened to with approbation, to go on
adding another and another sentence after he has an-
nounced his intention of bringing his discourse to a close ;
till at length, the audience becoming manifestly weary and
impatient, he is forced to conclude in a feeble and spirit-
less manner, like a half-extinguished candle going out in
smoke."

It is always better to omit something good than to add
something worthless. And here we have a signal applica-
tion of the old Greek maxim, " The half is more than the
whole." There are cases in which it is best to spare the
reader a formal closing. The last paragraph of the dis-
cussion, particularly if it form the climax of a series, may
constitute the conclusion.

In closing his essay on style, Schopenhauer gathers under one
cause the various effects he has been discussing, reading at the same
time a profitable lesson to the young composer : —

90 LITERARY INVENTION.

" Few write in the way in which an architect builds, who, before he sets
to work, sketches out his plan, and thinks it over down to its smallest details.
Nay, most people write only as though they were playing dominoes ; and as
in this game the pieces are arranged half by design, half by chance, so it is
with the sequence and connection of their sentences. They only just have
an idea of what the general shape of their work will be, and of the aim they
set before themselves. Many are ignorant even of this, and write as the
coral insects build; period joins to period ; and who knows what the author
means?

"Life nowadays goes at a gallop; and the way in which this affects
literature is to make it extremely superficial and slovenly."

QUESTIONS.

Name the formal divisions of discourse. Which are essential,
and which non-essential? To what must the subject be adapted?
Give Milton's theory of subjects for beginners. Is familiarity with
the theme an essential? Show how a subject may be too compre-
hensive. Explain what is meant by narrowing a theme. A college
chaplain advertises among a hundred general themes for ten-minute
addresses the following specially fertile topics : Pleasure, Sin, Patriot-
ism, Politics, Commerce, Bible, Newspapers, Women, Dress. The
student may indicate the different lines of treatment of which each is
susceptible.

Define the Introduction. State its object. What requires con-
summate tact? Enumerate the essentials of a rhetorical introduction.
What tendency on the part of young writers explains the long intro-
ductions so common in college exercises? (The tendency to gather
from too distant afield of supply, through fear of not securing sufficient
material to Jill the required number of pages.) What explains the
irrelevant introduction which bears no relation whatever to the sub-
ject? When should the introduction be written, and why? Describe
certain forms of introduction. When may the introduction be omitted ?

What is the proposition? How should it be expressed? On
what will its form and place depend? Define the analysis. What, in
effect, is the discussion? How is its particular form determined?
State the object of the conclusion. What should the closing sen-
tences epitomize? What is the secret of knowing when to conclude?
May the conclusion be dispensed with?

FORMAL DIVISIONS OF A DISCOURSE..

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Deduce the true subject, working idea, or lesson embodied in the
story, from Book I. of Spenser's "The Faerie Queene" (the author
informs us that his poem as a whole is " a continued allegoric," the
general end of which is "to fashion a gentleman or noble person per-
fected in the twelve morall vertues ") ; from Marlowe's " Dr. Faustus "
or Goethe's "Faust" (Faust, "a personification of the pride of will
and eagerness of curiosity, devoured with a desire for knowledge at
any price, willing to give in exchange for it his soul and body to the
great enemy of mankind") ; from Tennyson's " Locksley Hall" and
" Locksley Hall Sixty Years After; " from George Eliot's " Romola"
and " The Mill on the Floss ; " from Wordsworth's " The White Doe
of Rylstone ; " from " Ivanhoe," " The Lady of the Lake," " Vanity
Fair," " The Deerslayer," " Ben-Hur," " Elsie Venner," or any
classic.

Prepare a tentative introduction for an essay on the " Color,
Form, and Odor Effects in ' Evangeline.' " (General Statement. — It
has been said that, without the use of aesthetic sense factors, no poet
can agreeably or impressively utter his thoughts.)

Let each student bring to the recitation room, for examination and
criticism, the introduction to some history, essay, drama, or novel, that
may be within reach. In this way the class may be made familiar with
a useful variety of introductions.

The instructor may briefly note the introductory methods of Bacon,
Addison, Lamb, Emerson ; may read also to the class the first page of
Matthew Arnold's essay, " On Translating Homer," separating the
proposition from the introduction ; may further illustrate forms of con-
clusion from the essays, speeches, etc., of Addison, Steele, Macaulay,
De Quincey, Lamb, Herbert Spencer, Matthew Arnold, Cardinal
Newman, Lowell, Webster, Pitt, Fox, Sheridan, and Burke.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

On the principle that the pupil should study, when possible, the
real authors, the men who discovered rhetorical laws, reference is sug-
gested to the works of Aristotle, Cicero, Horace, and Quintilian.

92 LITERARY INVENTION.

LESSON IX.

METHODS OF AMPLIFICATION. — DESCRIPTION.

Objects should be painted so accurately as to form in the mind of the reader
distinct and lively images. — LORD KAMES.

Personal experience is the basis of all real literature. The writer must have
thought the thoughts, seen the objects (with bodily or mental vision), and felt the
feelings ; otherwise he can have no power over us. — LEWES.

In Amplifying, the composer may describe, narrate,
argue, or expound. Each of the processes may separately
characterize the body of a written production ; or they
may all enter, in a greater or less degree, into the same
composition.

Description portrays in language the distinguishing
characteristics or qualities of things. The graphic and
plastic arts delineate with pencil, brush, and chisel ; rhe-
torical description is word painting. As a rule, words can
describe with greater precision and detail than form and
color ; sometimes they are capable of producing effects
impossible to painting and sculpture. Parrhasius, in the
fable, deplored his powerlessness to paint a groan. The
force of Milton's series —

" Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death,
A universe of death " —

would be lost, were it not for the addition of the closing
adjunct, — " of death."

There are, however, dramatic situations in which no words could
be spoken, passions at white heat which no language can portray.

DESCRIPTION. 93

What human sounds can convey the speechless agony of a Niobe?
"Hate," says Theodore Watts, "though voluble as Clytemnestra's
when hate is at that red heat which the poet can render, changes in
a moment when that redness has been fanned to hatred's own last
complexion, — whiteness as of iron at the melting point." This is
what can be represented only on canvas or in marble. In all ordinary
cases, the student will understand that English words are his best
implements of description.

Description is an Art, and hence implies principles.
The essentials of description are Vividness, Unity in Vari-
ety, and Sequence.

Vividness. — Clearness of vision is at the foundation
of a talent for description. What is described must be
seen so clearly, and pictured so graphically, that the mind
addressed perceives, through the medium of mental im-
ages, as distinctly as if the actual object were before it.
Vividness is secured by the selection of a few striking
characteristics, from which the powers of conception, nat-
urally exercised in reproducing the most prominent and
important details, easily form, with the aid of the imagi-
nation, a true picture. Thus Carlyle, in painting the ruins
of the Bastille, with one masterly touch, — the grated cage
projecting from the debris that filled its dungeons,—
recalls three centuries of horrors : l —

"All lamplit, allegorically decorated. In the depths of the back-
ground is a single lugubrious lamp, rendering dim-visible one of your iron
cages, half-buried, and some Prison stones, — Tyranny vanishing downward,
all gone but the skirt : the rest wholly lamp-festoons, trees real or of paste-
board; in the similitude of a fairy grove; with this inscription, readable to
runner: ' Ici 1'on dance,' ' Dancing Here.' "

1 The instructor is advised to have all the illustrative extracts that follow
read aloud, and thoroughly criticised by members, pf the class.

94 LITERARY INVENTION.

And how impressive the images of dreariness and ruin
in the following, from Ossian ! —

"I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The
flames had resounded in the halls, and the voice of the people is heard
no more. The stream of Clutha was removed from its place by the fall of
the walls. The thistle shook there its lovely head ; the moss whistled to the
wind. The fox looked out from the windows; and the rank grass waved
round his head."

The Chief Elements of a Descriptive Enumeration are
Form and Color, which lie at the basis of all our knowl-
edge of the external world. In giving an account of the
general appearance of an object, the particular shape, size,
and hue, wherein it differs from every other object of its
class, are to be conspicuously brought out. Shakespeare
selected typical elements in his famous description of the
stallion in " Venus and Adonis : "

" Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide,
High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong,
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide:

Look, what a horse should have he did not lack,

Save a proud rider on so proud a back."

There is no difficulty in forming a picture from such an inventory
of points, because they are individual, distinguishing this particular
thoroughbred that so " excelled a common one in shape and courage,
color, pace, and bone." Perfect individuality is indispensable to viv-
idness ; mere generalities repel. Hence —

Comparison with what is familiar, which substantially
aids the mind in forming a concrete image, is a most valua-
ble expedient in all kinds of description. If told, for
instance, that the Great Pyramid is about twice as high as
Trinity spire, a New Yorker would have a clear idea of its

DESCRIPTION. 95

elevation above the sand. In " Les Mise" rabies," Victor
Hugo conveys an exact idea of the position of the con-
tending armies at Waterloo by likening thte field to the
letter A: —

" Those who wish to form a distinct idea of the battle of Waterloo need
only imagine a capital A laid on the ground. The left leg of the A is the
Nivelles road, the right one the Genappe road, while the string of the A is
the broken way running from Chain to Braine 1'Alleud. The top of the A
is Mont St. Jean, where Wellington is ; the left lower point is Hougomont,
where Reille is, with Jerome Bonaparte ; the right lower point is La Belle
Alliance, where Napoleon is. A little below the point where the string of
the A meets and cuts the right leg, is La Haye Sainte; and in the center
of this string is the exact spot where the battle was concluded."

Thus explanatory comparisons illustrate in the happiest manner
even abstruse philosophical compositions ; and recourse to them is
natural. " From the most complex and abstract inferences," says
Spencer in his "Psychology," "to the most rudimentary intuitions,
all intelligence proceeds by the establishment of relations of likeness
and unlikeness."

Vividness may be promoted by the Suppression of De-
tails. As the object is to make a strong impression on
the imagination, some single circumstance, happily selected,
may be of greater avail than a labored inventory. Homer
portrays the beauty of Helen, not by an elaborate cata-
logue of physical excellences, but by simply noting its
effect on the old men of Troy as she walks upon the ram-
parts. They confess her "wholly like in feature to the
deathless goddesses," and fully worth the sorrows of a
nine years' war. The imagination of the reader is suffi-
ciently excited by this bare statement, and instantly fills
in a picture of the

"Face that launched a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium."

96 LITERARY INVENTION.

Immeasurably below this sublime ellipsis of Homer is the inven-
tory of traits published by a Greek writer of the twelfth century A.D.,
and translated as follows : —

" She was a woman right beautiful, with fine eyebrows, of clearest com-
plexion, beautiful cheeks, comely, with large full eyes, with snow-white skin,
quick-glancing, graceful ; fair-armed, voluptuous, a grove filled with graces ;
the complexion fair, the cheek rosy, the countenance pleasing, the eye
blooming, — a beauty unartificial, untinted, of its natural color, — adding
brightness to the brightest cherry, as if one should dye ivory with resplendent
purple ; her neck long, of dazzling whiteness, whence she was called the
swan-born, beautiful Helen."

With its repetitions and puerilities, the description above is im-
potent in the extreme. It conveys no distinctive notion of Helen's
face or form, and is applicable to any beautiful woman. Economy in
the number, as well as taste in the choice, of particulars, is a condition
of vividness.

Finally, without personal knowledge of the thing
described, there can be no distinct image in the mind of
the writer, and therefore none can be communicated to
that of the reader. Direct experience is a sine qua non
of originality ; the personal element, of charming descrip-
tion. The describer, of all writers, must be a producer,
and not a distributer of other men's views. It is far bet-
ter for the beginner to describe a cardinal flower he has
looked at than Kew Gardens secondhand ; to write of a
sheep pasture in his native town than garble the reports
of travelers on the Himalayas or the highlands of Europe.
Unity in Variety ; Sequence. — In the enumeration
of parts, the writer is not to lose sight of the unity which
gives meaning to the whole. As selection is the first
great essential of description, so arrangement is the second,
— the grouping or massing of the selected details round
some center, some working idea, some one main aspect,
for the purpose of producing the most powerful effect.

DESCRIPTION. 97

In Carlyle's description of the Bastille in ruins (p. 93),
the details of the lights are clustered round the central
figure of the prison cage, which is intended for deep im-
pression. In like manner, the student, when examining
an object or scene with a view to describing it, must
always seek for the principal source of impression, and
group round this as few vivid details as are consistent
with fidelity of rendering. Perspective is insured by
treating these details proportionally, and sequence by pre-
senting them in the order suggested by the laws of asso-
ciation. Illustrations of description follow. The student
will notice the picturing power of Carlyle's adjectives, the
revelation of artistic skill in the selection and grouping,
and the preservation of unity in variety.

Description of Material Objects. — Writers most fre-
quently describe isolated material objects, natural scenery,
and persons. In the description of objects, the composer
will find it convenient to select heads from a framework
like the following, adding such new divisions as may sug-
gest themselves, and determining an order appropriate to
the nature of the case : —

I. Situation and surroundings. Time when object was made,
invented, or discovered; changes it has undergone. II. History;
traditions or reminiscences. III. Materials of which made; form,
size, color, peculiar features. IV. Comparison with any similar
object. V. Purpose for which designed ; fulfillment of function.
VI. Effects it has produced. VII. Feelings awakened in the mind
of the beholder.

In illustration of this kind of description, the fol-
lowing account of the Vocal Memnon, near the ruins of
Thebes, is extracted from Bishop Wainwright's " Land of
Bondage : "

QUACK. RHET. — 7

98 LITERARY INVENTION.

" The Statue of Memnon (which name is said to be a corruption of
Mi-ammon, or ' the beloved of Ammon,' the favorite title of Rameses the
Great) is one of two colossal figures between fifty and sixty feet in height,
which stand in a line with each other, facing the east, and about forty feet
apart. Their position on the wide solitary plain, with the Libyan mountains
for a background, their attitude, — being seated in perfect repose, with the
palms of the hands resting upon the knees, — and their immense size, pro-
duce a striking and almost sublime effect as you approach them. Coming
near, you perceive that they have been much mutilated. The general out-
line can be traced ; but the faces are destroyed, and the other parts much
disfigured. The southern statue is one entire block, and so, probably, was
the other, or the Memnon, originally. But it fell asunder, or was shattered
by an earthquake, before our Saviour's time, and was repaired, and now
seems to consist of separate though massive blocks of stone. We had read
that the secret of the sounding statue was disclosed by the discovery of a
block of stone on the lap of the figure, which, on being struck, produced a
ringing noise ; and we determined to try the experiment. With great diffi-
culty, and by placing one man upon the shoulders of another, one of our
Arabs succeeded in getting up. He was directed to strike, with a fragment of
stone that was thrown up to him, upon various parts, when the sound pro-
duced was perfectly dead, as if the blow was upon a solid wall. Again he
struck, and a clear ringing sound, like that from an anvil, was produced, or,
as it has been described, the striking upon brass. This experiment we tried
repeatedly ; and the Arab produced the effect without our being able to see
him from below. We became satisfied, therefore, that the Harp of Memnon
was nothing more than an artifice of the priests. One of them, by a secret
passage within the body of the statue, could gain access to the sounding
stone, and at sunrise produce an effect, which, when the block was perfect,
might easily be supposed to resemble the twanging of a harp string. The
people of the country, however, still believe that Memnon was once vocal ;
and the Arabs call it Salamat, or the statue that bids good morning."

Description of Natural Scenery. - - The following
outline will prove suggestive to the delineator of natural
beauty : —

I. Circumstances under which view was seen, — sunrise, noon,
evening, moonlight. II. Natural features, — plains, mountains, valleys,
forests, rivers, lakes, cultivated fields. III. Improvements made by
man, — buildings, bridges, railroads, other evidences of human indus-
try. IV. Living creatures that animate the scene, — men, quadrupeds,

DESCRIPTION'.

birds. V. Neighboring inhabitants. VI. Sounds, — streams, water-
falls, wind, lowing of cattle, baying of hounds, notes of song birds,
cries of waterfowl, call of owl or whip-poor-will, hum of machinery,
etc. VII. Comparison with other scenes. VIII. Historical associa-
tions. IX. Feelings awakened. These heads are to be worked over,
and combined in a unity consistent with the occasion and the design
of the writer.

Blackmore's description of Plover's Barrows farm, in
" Lorna Doone," delightfully illustrates the application of
many of these thoughts : —

" Almost everybody knows, in our part of the world at least, how pleas-
ant and soft the fall of the land is round about Plover's Barrows farm. All
above it is strong dark mountain, spread with heath, and desolate ; but near
our house the valleys cove, and open warmth and shelter. Here are trees,
and bright green grass, and orchards full of contentment ; and a man may
scarce espy the brook, although he hears it everywhere. And indeed a stout
good piece of it comes through our farmyard, and swells sometimes to a rush
of waves, when the clouds are on the hilltops. But all below where the
valley bends, and the Lynn stream goes along with it, pretty meadows slope
their breast, and the sun spreads on the water.

" To awake as the summer sun came slanting over the hilltops, with
hope on every beam adance to the laughter of the morning ; to see the
leaves across the window ruffling on the fresh new air, and the tendrils of
the powdery vine turning from their beaded sleep. Then the lustrous
meadows far beyond the thatch of the garden wall, yet seen beneath the
hanging scallops of the walnut tree, all awakening, dressed in pearl, all
amazed at their own glistening, like a maid at her own ideas. Down them
troop the lowing kine, walking each with a step of character (even as men
and women do), yet all alike with toss of horns, and spread of udders ready.
From them, without a word, we turn to the farmyard proper, seen on the
right, and dryly strawed from the petty rush of the pitch-paved runnel.
Round it stand the snug outbuildings, — barn, corn chamber, cider press,
stables, with a blinkered horse in every doorway munching, while his driver
tightens buckles, whistles, and looks down the lane, dallying to begin his
labor till the milkmaids be gone by. Here the cock comes forth at last.
He claps his wings, and shouts ' Cock-a-doodle ; ' and no other cock dare
look at him. Two or three go sidling off, waiting till their spurs be grown;
and then the crowd of partlets comes, chattering how their lord has dreamed,
and crowed at two in the morning, and praying that the old brown rat would

IOO LITERARY INVENTION.

only dare to face him. But while the cock is crowing still, and the pullet world
admiring him, who comes up but the old turkey cock, with all his family
round him ! Then the geese at the lower end begin to thrust their breasts
out, and mum their down-bits, and look at the gander and scream shrill joy ;
while the ducks in pond show nothing but tail in proof of their strict
neutrality.

"And so it goes on ; and so the sun comes, stronger from his drink of
dew ; and the cattle in the byres, and the horses from the stable, and the
men from cottage door, — each has had his rest and food; all smell alike of
hay and straw ; and every one must hie to work, be it drag, or draw, or delve."

The Description of Persons involves reference to the
age, form, features, peculiarities of dress and manners.
Carlyle's power as a describer may be further judged of
by the following characterization of Mirabeau : —

" Which of these Six Hundred individuals, in plain white cravat, that have
come up to regenerate France, might one guess would become their king?
For a king or leader they, as all bodies of men, must have : be their work
what it may, there is one man there who, by character, faculty, position, is
fittest of all to do it ; that man, as future not yet elected king, walks there
among the rest. He with the thick black locks, will it be ? With the hure,
as himself calls it, or black boar's head, fit to be ' shaken ' as a senatorial
portent ? Through whose shaggy beetle-brows, and rough-hewn, seamed,
carbuncled face, there look natural ugliness, smallpox, incontinence, bank-
ruptcy, — and burning fire of genius ; like comet-fire glaring fuliginous
through murkiest confusions? It is Gabriel Honore Riquetti de Mirabeau,
the world-compeller ; man-ruling Deputy of Aix ! According to the Baroness
de Stael, he steps proudly along, though looked at askance here ; and shakes
his black chevelure, or lion's mane; as if prophetic of great deeds.

" Mirabeau's spiritual gift will be found on examination, to be verily an
honest and a great one ; far the strongest, best practical intellect of that
time ; entitled to rank among the strong of all times. . . . Hear this man
on any subject, you will find him worth considering. He has words in him,
rough deliverances ; such as men do not forget. As thus : ' I know but three
ways of living in this world : by wages for work ; by begging ; thirdly, by
stealing (so named or not so named).' Again: 'Malebranche saw all
things in God ; and M. Necker sees all things in Necker ! ' There are
nicknames of Mirabeau's worth whole treatises. ' Grandison-Cromwell-
Lafayette : ' write a volume on the man, as many volumes have been written,
and try to say more ! It is the best likeness yet drawn of him, — by a

DESCRIPTION. IOI

flourish and two dots. Of such inexpressible advantage is it that a man have
' an eye, instead of a pair of spectacles merely ; ' that, seeing through the
formulas of things, and even ' making away ' with many a formula, he see
into the thing itself, and so know it and be master of it ! "

Description of Mental Traits and States. — Feelings,
thoughts, and mental states, as well as material things,
come within the range of description. They constitute
the subjective, as opposed to the objective or external,
world, and find a place in every speaking portrait, nota-
bly in those of the Prologue to Chaucer's " Canterbury
Tales," " the most exact pictures of English life that
ever were transmitted at any time in English history by
any pen." Take, as an example, the description of
the prioress : —

" Ther was also a Nonne, a Prioresse,
That of hire smylyng was ful symple and coy ; shy

Hire grettest ooth ne was but by seynt Lay ; St. Eligius

And sche was cleped madame Eglentyne. called

Ful wel sche sang the servise divyne,
Entuned in hire nose ful semely ;

And Frensch sche spak ful faire and fetysly, neatly

After the scole of Stratford atte Bfrwe, a Norman colony and fash-

For Frensch of Parys was to hire unknowe. ionable suburb of Lon"

At mete wel i-taught was sche withalle ;
Sche leet no morsel from hire lippes falle,
Ne wette hire fyngres in hire sauce deepe.
Wel cowde sche carie a morsel, and wel keepe, no forks
That no drope ne fille upon hire breste.
In curteisie was set ful moche hire lesle, pleasure

Hire overlippe wypede sche so clene,

That in hire cuppe was no ferthing sene anything very small, Kter-

Of grece, whan sche dronken hadde hire draughte. ^ one fourth
Ful semely after hir mete sche raughte, reached

And sikerly sche was of gret disport, truly

And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port, behavior

\\\&peynede hir to countrefete cheerc took pains

Of court, and ben estatlich of manere, stately

102

LITERARY INVENTION.

And to ben holden digne of reverence.

But for to speken of hir conscience

Sche was so charitable and so pitous,

Sche wolde weep if that sche saw a mous

Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.

Of smale houndes hadde sche, that sche fedde

With rested flessh, or mylk and wastel breed.

But sore weep sche if oon of hem were deed,

Or if men smot it with a yerde smerte :

And al was conscience and tendre herte.

Ful semely hire wympel i-pynched was ;

Hir nose tretys ; hir eye'n greye as glas ;

Hir mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed

But sikerly sche hadde a f air forheed.

It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe ;

For hardily sche was not undergrowe.

Ful fetys was hir cloke, as I was war.

Of smal coral' aboute hir arm sche bar

A peire of bedes gauded al with grene;

And theron heng a broch of gold ful schene,

On which was first i-write a crowned A,

And after, Amor vincit omnia."

worthy
tenderness

cake

cape or tippet
straight

forehead

well-made (facere)

string of beads; gaudies
were large beads

participle : writ

The drawing of such a character is a master stroke
of description. We know the men and women of no
other period of English history as intimately as we know
Chaucer's contemporaries. In the " Canterbury Tales "
we are brought face to face with our ancestors ; we enter
into their pastimes, we share their labors and sorrows,
we laugh at their superstitions, we act out their lives.
Shakespeare himself has not given us portraits so exact.

QUESTIONS.

What forms may amplification assume ? Define description, and
show how it differs from painting and sculpture. In what respect has
language the advantage of the graphic and plastic arts? What can
they express impossible to speech ? Enumerate the essentials of
description. On what does vividness depend?

DESCRIPTION. 103

Explain the value of comparison. Show how vividness may be
promoted by the suppression of details. What is the bearing of per-
sonal experience in all description? Explain and illustrate what is
meant by grouping. How can the principle be applied by the com-
poser so as to secure perspective and sequence? State heads that
may be found appropriate in descriptions of material objects ; of natu-
ral scenery; of persons and characters. Distinguish between subjec-
tive and objective description. In whose descriptions do we find the
two blended to perfection? Sum up the canons of description.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Have read in class the superb characterization of Queen Elizabeth
as given in Green's " A Short History of the English People," pp.
362-370. Require those present to follow the reader carefully, and to
write out impromptu the framework on which it is built.

Prescribe work in descriptive invention, assigning as themes
objects of interest, scenery, and persons peculiar in appearance and
manners, directly accessible to the writers, or encountered during
recent travel. Pupils should be encouraged to write while in the
presence of the things described ; to say simply what they honestly
think, and note characteristics they really observe. Remove the
impression that such work is childish ; replace it with the idea that
to be thus naive or ingenuous is to produce what is readable and even
instructive. All intelligent persons crave such glimpses of a writer's
heart ; all value the smallest grains of native gold.

In the following extract from Tennyson's " Mariana," criticise the
selection of elements. Are they typical and suggestive ? Is vividness
secured by ellipsis of details ? Would our attention naturally be drawn
to the buzzing of a fly in the window unless everything was still ? Does
the peeping of the mouse from the crevice suggest the absence
of human inmates? What other facts are presupposed by those
mentioned ?

" All day within the dreamy house,

The doors upon their hinges creak'd,
The blue fly sung in the pane ; the mouse

Behind the moldering wainscot shriek'd,
Or from the crevice peer'd about,"

104 LITERARY INVENTION.

Apply the laws of description to the following passage, in praise
of his bride Elizabeth, from Spenser's "Nuptial Ode." Criticise, also,
the picturesque forms : —

" Loe ! where she comes along with portly pace,
Lyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the East,
Arysing forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best.
So well it her beseemes, that ye would weene
Some angell she had beene.
Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre,
Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene,
Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre ;
And, being crowned with a girland greene,
Seeme lyke some mayden Queene.

" But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,
There dwels sweet love, and constant chastity,
Unspotted fayth, and comely womanhood,
Regard of honour, and mild modesty ;
There vertue raynes as Queene in royal throne,
And giveth lawes alone,
The which the base affections doe obay,
And yeeld theyr services unto her will ;
Ne thought of thing uncomely ever may
Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once scene these her celestial threasures,
And unrevealed pleasures,
Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing,
That al the woods should answer, and your echo ring."

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Lessing's "Laocoon." For further readings in description, Wil-
liam Black's novels ; Griffith's " Idylls from the Sanskrit ; " Thomson's
" Seasons," which was rejected at first by the booksellers because
there was too much description in it; Milton's " L'Allegro " and "II
Penseroso," the richest poems in our language; Byron's "Childe
Harold " and other works ; Goldsmith's Poems ; Parnell's " Hermit ;"
Ossian ; Carlyle's " French Revolution" and " Frederick the Great."

NARRA TION.

105

LESSON X.

NARRATION.

In narration, the force of language consists in raising complete images, which
transport the reader, as by magic, into the very place of the important action, and
convert him into a spectator, beholding everything that passes. A narrative ought
to rival a picture in the liveliness and accuracy of its representations. — LORD
KAMES.

Narration is the Account of Real or Imaginary Occur-
rences. It relates, according to certain principles of
order, the particulars of some event, or series of events.
Happenings, instead of qualities, are selected ; and these
are combined in such a way as to preserve their proper
relations to one another and to the unity of which they
are parts. Inasmuch as fiction deals with imaginary
events, narration forms the basis of novels and romances,
as well as of histories, biographies, books of travel, letters,
diaries, etc. It thus determines the character of a greater
number of prose and poetical forms than any other variety
of amplification.

Narration naturally accompanies Description; in fact,
the two are often inseparable, as has been made evident in
certain of the illustrative extracts. While enumerating the
characteristics of a scene or object, it is psychological for
the describer to revert to its history, to narrate its associa-
tions. Conversely, " events of importance usually imply a
set of arrangements more or less complicated, and occu-
pying a definite space, thus presupposing the means of
description. Such are the movements of armies and the

IO6 LITERARY INVENTION.

occupation of new countries ; the busy life of cities ; the
workings of nature on a grand scale ; the vicissitudes of
the seasons, day and night, storms, tides, and the flow
of rivers ; geological changes ; the evolution of vegetable
and animal life. Narration, therefore, may even have to
put on the guise of a series of descriptions."

Description naturally paves the way for narration. Histories
appropriately begin with the geography of the country treated ; nov-
els, with the scenes amid which their plots are laid. " The Lady of
the Lake," a type of the narrative poem, ushers in its story with a
description of the physical features of the Trossachs, — " each purple
peak, each flinty spire ; " and the continuity of the tale is repeatedly
broken by striking pieces of nature delineation. Poets, novelists, and
historians, give varying prominence to the descriptive feature.

Canons of Narration. — To tell what happens is the
easiest kind of invention ; to tell it well implies observ-
ance of the following principles, which underlie all effect-
ive narration.

The Law of Selection applies here as in description,
limiting the narrator to circumstances that are strikingly
characteristic or individual, suited to the purpose in view,
and necessary. The selection of what is really important
from the great mass of material at the writer's disposal is
often the most difficult part of his task and the severest
test of his judgment. Insignificant and wearisome details

— which are read only to be forgotten, or not read at all

— must be rigidly thrust aside. Undue expansion is fatal.
Delia Bacon's ponderous volume on the multiple author-
ship of the Shakespearean plays is said to have found but
a single reader persistent enough to complete it.

The Law of Succession, — The incidents selected are

NARRATION. IO/

next to be disposed, either in the precise order of their
occurrence, or as a series of causes and effects. Wher-
ever possible, the two methods of procedure are combined.
The narrator is expected, not merely to rehearse events,
but to explain or account for them. The secret of the
art, says Professor Dowden, is "to convert what is merely
chronological into a rational sequence, where one thing
leads to another by natural associations." That is, every
event should prepare the way for its successor.

The reader of a properly constructed history of
France, beginning with the extinction of Gallic liberty
under Julius Caesar, and following the drama through
the brilliant Renaissance, until the glories of the Grand
Monarch are forgotten amid the debaucheries and rampant
skepticism of the Fifteenth Louis, intuitively forecasts
the Reign of Terror, with all its attendant revolutions,
and the eclipse at Waterloo. Sometimes the process is
reversed, and the historian refers back from the period
he has selected for delineation (consult Motley's " Rise of
the Dutch Republic "). The modern philologist, accept-
ing what he sees of their present forms and structure,
builds up the past of the Indo-European tongues, until he
reaches the four hundred simple sounds of the human
voice on which they are all based.

The historical record of Confucius and the Anglo-Saxon "Chroni-
cle " follow the chronological method, and are utterly without interest.
The former states in short, disconnected sentences insignificant, iso-
lated facts, — locusts come in such a year, a murder is perpetrated,
the King makes a tour, a temple is struck by lightning. The latter is
equally barren of pleasing features. Gibbon, John Bach McMaster
("A History of the People of the United States"), and Professor
John Fiske, are philosophical historians, in that they satisfactorily
account for the events related.

IO8 LITERARY INVENTION.

The Law of Succession requires a Climax. — The in-
terest must grow as the narration proceeds, until it cul-
minates in the crisis or denouement. There must be
movement toward a predetermined end, which end is
never lost sight of except by a loose and rambling com-
piler. This movement may be retarded by the multi-
plication of details, or accelerated by their suppression.
Thus the narrator has it in his power to hold back the
reader, or hurry him on, in a few flying words, to an
exciting issue. Tendency to acceleration implies force
in rhetoric as well as in physics.

In picturing Honnor Cunyngham's battle with the
salmon (" Prince Fortunatus "), William Black, with the
precision of a master of angling, has selected the char-
acteristic incidents of the action, and skillfully keeps up
the reader's suspense, until the dangling flies proclaim a
broken hold and the escape of the fish : —

" ' I will try him again now,' said she, with a glance at the water ; and
forthwith she set to work with rod and line, beginning a few yards farther up
the stream, and gradually working down to where she had risen the fish.
She must be almost over him now, and yet there was no sign. Or past him?
Or he might have turned, and gone a yard or two farther down? Then, as
this eagerly interested spectator was intently watching the swirls of the deep
pool, there was a sudden wave on the surface ; she struck up her rod, slightly,
and the next moment away went her line, tearing through the water, while
the reel screamed out its joyous note of recognition. Old Robert jumped to
his feet. At the same instant the fish made another appalling rush, far away
on the opposite side of the river, and at the end of it flashed into the air —
a swift gleam of purple-blue and silver, that revealed his splendid size.
Lionel was quite breathless with excitement. He dared not speak to her for
fear of distracting her attention. But she was apparently quite calm ; and
old Robert looked on without any great solicitude, as if he knew that his
young mistress needed neither advice nor assistance. Meanwhile the salmon
had come back into the middle of the stream, where it lay deep, only giving
evidence of its existence by a series of vicious tugs.

NARRATION. \ 09

" ' I don't like that tugging, Robert,' she said. « He knows too much.
He has pulled himself free from a fly before.'

" 'Ay, ay, I'm afraid of that too,' old Robert said, with his keen eyes
fixed on every movement of the straining line.

"Then the fish lay still, and sulked ; and she took the opportunity of
moving a little bit upstream, and reeling in a yard or two.

"'Would you like to take the rod now, Mr. Moore?' she said
generously.

"'Oh, certainly not,' he exclaimed. 'I would not for worlds you
should lose the salmon. And do you think I could take the responsibility?'

" He ceased speaking, for he saw that her attention had once more been
drawn to the salmon, which was now calmly and steadily moving upstream.
He watched the slow progress of the line ; and then, to his horror, he per-
ceived that the fish was heading for the other side of a large gray rock that
stood in mid-channel. If he should persist in boring his way up that farther
current, would not he inevitably cut the line on the rock? What could she
do? Still nearer and nearer to the big bowlder went that white line, steadily
cutting through the brown water ; and still she said not a word, though
Lionel fancied she was now putting on a heavier strain. At last the line
was almost touching the stone ; and there the salmon lay motionless. He was
within half a yard of certain freedom, if only he had known; for the water
was far too deep to allow of old Robert's wading in, and getting the line
over the rock. But just as Lionel, far more excited than the fisher maiden
herself, was wondering what was going to happen next, the whole situa-
tion of affairs was reversed in a twinkling. The salmon suddenly turned,
and dashed away downstream until it was right at the end of the pool; and
there, in deep water on the other side, it resumed its determined tugging, so
that the pliant top of the rod was shaken as if by a human hand.

" 'That is what frightens me,' she said to Lionel. ' I don't like that
at all.'

" But what could he do to help her ? Eager wishes were of no avail ; and
yet he felt as if the crowning joy of his life would be to see that splendid big
fish safely out there on the bank. All his faculties seemed to be absorbed in
the contemplation of that momentous struggle. The past and the future were
alike cut off from him ; he had forgotten all about the theater and its trum-
pery applause ; he had no thought but for the unseen creature underneath
the water, that was dashing its head from side to side, and then boring down,
and then sailing away over to the opposite shallows, exhausting every maneu-
ver to regain its liberty. He could not speak to her. What was anything he
could say as compared with the tremendous importance of the next move-
ment on the part of the fish? But she was calm enough,

IIO . LITERARY INVENTION,

" ' He doesn't tire himself much, Robert," she said. ' He keeps all his
strength for that tugging.'

" But just as she spoke, the salmon began to come into mid-stream again,
and she stepped a yard or two back, reeling in the line swiftly. Once or
twice she looked at the top of the rod ; there was a faint strain on, nothing
more. Then her enemy seemed inclined to yield a little. She reeled in still
more quickly ; knot after knot of the casting line gradually rose from the sur-
face ; at last they caught sight of a dull, bronze gleam, — the sunlight striking
through the brown water on the side of the fish. But he had no intention of
giving in yet ; he had only come up to look about him. Presently he headed
upstream again, quietly and steadily ; then there was another savage shak-
ing of his head and tugging, then a sharp run and plunge, and again he lay
deep, jerking to get this unholy thing out of his jaw. Lionel began to wonder
that anyone should voluntarily and for the sake of amusement undergo this
frightful anxiety. He knew that, if he had possession of the rod, his hands
would be trembling ; his breath would be coming short and quick ; that a life-
time of hope and fear would be crowded into every minute. And yet here
was this girl watching coolly and critically the motion of the line, and show-
ing not the slightest trace of excitement on her finely cut, impressive features.

" ' I think I am getting the better of him, Robert,' said she presently,
as the fish began to steer a little in her direction.

" ' I would step back a bit, Miss Honnor,' the keen-visaged old gillie
said. But he did not step back ; on the contrary he crouched down by the
side of a big bowlder, close to the water, and again he tried his gaff, to make
sure that the steel clip was firmly fixed in the handle.

" Yes, there was no doubt that the salmon was beaten. He kept coming
nearer and nearer to the land, led by the gentle, continuous strain of the
pliant top, though ever and anon he would vainly try to head away again into
deep water. It was a beautiful thing to look at — this huge, gleaming creature
taken captive by an almost invisible line, and gradually yielding to inevitable
fate. Joy was in Lionel's heart. If he had wondered that anyone, for the
sake of amusement, should choose to undergo such agonies of anxiety, he
wondered no more. Here was the fierce delight of triumph. The struggle of
force against skill was about over. There was no more tugging now ; there were
no more frantic rushes, or bewildering leaps in the air. Slowly, slowly, the
great fish was being led in to shore. Twice had old Robert warily stretched
out his gaff, only to find that the prize was not yet within his reach. And
then, just as the young lady with the firm-set lips said, ' Now, Robert ! ' and
just as the gaff was cautiously extended for the third time, the salmon gave a
final lurch forward ; and the next instant, before Lionel could tell what had
happened, the fly was dangling helplessly in the air — and the fish was gone."

NARRA TION. 1 1 1

The Law of Synchronism. — While keeping his one
purpose in view, and disposing the several incidents and
bits of description so as most alluringly to lead up to it,
the narrator must further be careful, if there are several
series of events taking place simultaneously, to make plain
their relationship to one another. For a mile and a half
below Geneva, the sapphire Rhone and the yellow Arve
rush down one channel, side by side, with unmixed waters ;
then lose their individualities in a blended current. In
like manner, the related streams of incidents must be kept
distinct, until, as occasions arise, they mingle to make the
crises of the story.

The historian who is mindful of this principle when compiling
the history of a century, instead of following one nation separately
for a certain fixed period, and then passing to another to construct
a similarly disconnected skeleton, presents great events in their chron-
ological order, each in connection with the nation that was the
prominent actor in it, but at the same time grouping contempora-
neous nations round this central figure, and giving their respective
histories together, so far as they bear on the event in question.
Appropriate places for bringing together the concurrent streams will
be suggested by the author's taste and sense of proportion ; and when
the scene is shifted, the change will be distinctly intimated.

To illustrate, in compiling a history of modern Europe, after
presenting the record of England under the three Edwards and the
closely related contemporary history of France, the narrator would
naturally pause, to bring up to this point the story of nations that are
next to figure in the drama; viz., the Italian States, Switzerland, Ger-
many, and the Ottoman Empire. He would then resume the history
of the Hundred-Years' War between England and France.

Unity A narration may thus be a string of unities

inseparably linked, and constituting the parts of a great
organic whole. Each part is single in its purpose ; single
in its central event, around which scattered incidents are

112 LITERARY INVENTION,

grouped; and single in its hero. The subject of Homer's
narrative poem, the " Iliad," is the wrath of Achilles, and
what it caused during the twenty-seven days of its contin-
uance. The incidents of the Egyptian epic are gathered
about one scene, in which a master artist has vividly pic-
tured Rameses the Great contending single-handed with
a multitude of Hittites. Headley has given us a fascinat-
ing history of Napoleon's Old Guard — a company of in-'
dividuals, but a unit — from its origin at Marengo, eight
hundred strong, to its annihilation at Waterloo.

As an Illustration of a Perfect Narrative Style, we
may quote Bancroft's account of the battle of Quebec
and the death of General Wolfe in 1759 : —

" But, in the meantime, Wolfe applied himself intently to recon-
noitering the north shore above Quebec. . . . He himself discovered the
cove which now bears his name, where the bending promontories almost
form a basin with a very narrow margin, over which the hill rises precipi-
tously. He saw the path that wound up the steep, though so narrow that
two men could hardly march in it abreast ; and he knew, by the number of
tents which he counted on the summit, that the Canadian post which guarded
it could not exceed a hundred. Here he resolved to land his army by sur-
prise. To mislead the enemy, his troops were kept far above the town ; while
Saunders, as if an attack was intended at Beauport, set Cook, the great
mariner, with others, to sound the water, and plant buoys along that shore.

"The day and night of the I2th were employed in preparations. The
autumn evening was bright ; and the general, under the clear starlight, vis-
ited his stations, to make his final inspection, and utter his last words of
encouragement. As he passed from ship to ship, he spoke to those in the
boat with him of the poet Gray and the 'Elegy in a Country Churchyard.'
'I,' said he, 'would prefer being the author of that poem to the glory of
beating the French to-morrow ;' and, while the oars struck the river as it rip-
pled in the silence of the night air under the flowing tide, he repeated : —

" ' The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour ;
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.'

NARRA TION.

" Every officer knew his appointed duty, when, at one o'clock in the
morning of the I3th of September, Wolfe, with Monckton and Murray,
and about half the forces, set off in boats, and, without sail or oars, glided
down with the tide. In three quarters of an hour the ships followed ; and,
though the night had become dark, aided by the rapid current, they reached
the cove just in time to cover the landing. Wolfe and the troops with him
leaped on shore ; the light infantry, who found themselves borne by the cur-
rent a little below the intrenched path, clambered up the steep hill, staying
themselves by the roots and boughs of the maple and spruce and ash trees
that covered the precipitous declivity, and, after a little firing, dispersed the
picket which guarded the height. The rest ascended safely by the pathway.
A battery of four guns on the left was abandoned to Colonel Howe.
When Townshend's division disembarked, the English had already gained
one of the roads to Quebec ; and, advancing in front of the forest, Wolfe
stood at daybreak with his invincible battalions on the Plains of Abraham,
the battlefield of empire.

' ' It can be but a small party, come to burn a few houses and retire,'
said Montcalm in amazement, as the news reached him in his intrenchments
the other side of the St. Charles ; but, obtaining better information, ' Then,'
he cried, ' they have at last got to the weak side of this miserable gar-
rison; we must give battle and crush them before midday.' And before ten
the two armies, equal in numbers, each being composed of less than five
thousand men, were ranged in presence of one another for battle. The
English, not easily accessible from intervening shallow ravines and rail
fences, were all regulars, perfect in discipline, terrible in their fearless enthu-
siasm, thrilling with pride at their morning's success, commanded by a man
whom they obeyed with confidence and love. The doomed and devoted
Montcalm had what Wolfe had called but 'five weak French battalions,' of
less than two thousand men, ' mingled with disorderly peasantry,' formed
on ground which commanded the position of the English. The French had
three little pieces of artillery ; the English, one or two. The two armies can-
nonaded each other for nearly an hour ; when Montcalm, having summoned
Bougainville to his aid, and dispatched messenger after messenger for De
Vaudreuil, who had fifteen hundred men at the camp, to come up before
he should be driven from the ground, endeavored to flank the British, and
crowd them down the high bank of the river. Wolfe counteracted the move-
ment by detaching Townshend with Amherst's regiment, and afterwards a
part of the royal Americans, who formed on the left with a double front.

" Waiting no longer for more troops, Montcalm led the French army
impetuously to the attack. The ill-disciplined companies broke by their
precipitation and the unevenness of the ground, and fired by platoons, with-

QUACK. RHBT. — 8

114 LITERARY INVENTION.

out unity. The English, especially the Forty-third and Forty-seventh, where
Monckton stood, received the shock with calmness; and after having, at
Wolfe's command, reserved their fire till their enemy was within forty yards,
their line began a regular, rapid, and exact discharge of musketry. Mont-
calm was present everywhere, braving danger, wounded, but cheering by his
example. The second in command, De Sennezergues, an associate in glory
at Ticonderoga, was killed. The brave but untried Canadians, flinching from
a hot fire in the open field, began to waver; and so soon as Wolfe, placing
himself at the head of the Twenty-eighth and the Louisburg grenadiers,
charged with bayonets, they everywhere gave way. Of the English officers,
Carleton was wounded ; Barre, who fought near Wolfe, received in the head
a ball which destroyed the power of vision of one eye, and ultimately made
him blind. Wolfe, also, as he led the charge, was wounded in the wrist ;
but, still pressing forward, he received a second ball ; and, having decided
the day, was struck a third time, and mortally, in the breast. ' Support me,'
he cried to an officer near him; 'let not my brave fellows see me drop.'
He was carried to the rear, and they brought him water to quench his thirst.
' They run ! they run ! ' spoke the officer on whom he leaned. ' Who run ? '
asked Wolfe, as his life was fast ebbing. ' The French,' replied the officer,
'give way everywhere.' — 'What,' cried the expiring hero, 'do they run
already? Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton; bid him march Webb's regi-
ment with all speed to Charles River to cut off the fugitives.' Four days
before, he had looked forward to early death with dismay. 'Now, God be
praised, I die happy.' These were his words as his spirit escaped in the blaze
of his glory. Night, silence, the rushing tide, veteran discipline, the sure
inspiration of genius, had been his allies ; his battlefield, high over the ocean
river, was the grandest theater on earth for illustrious deeds ; his victory, one
of the most momentous in the annals of mankind, gave to the English tongue
and the institutions of the Germanic race the unexplored and seemingly infi-
nite West and North. He crowded into a few hours actions that would have
given luster to length of life, and, filling his day with greatness, completed it
before its noon."

Special Forms of Narration are considered in Part V.,
and the principles governing the construction of each are
there fully discussed.

QUESTIONS.

Define narration. Why is it naturally associated with descrip-
tion? How does description pave the way for a history or narrative

NARRA TION. 1 1 5

poem ? What does the law of selection require ? Discuss two kinds
of sequence. Show how a history of France may be constructed so
as to forecast the drama of 1793. May the process be reversed ?
Characterize the historical writings of Confucius ; the Anglo-Saxon
Chronicle. Mention some philosophical narrators.

What does climax in the order of succession imply? How may
the movement of a story be retarded? how accelerated? State your
opinion of William Black as a narrator ; as a describer. Explain the
synchronistic arrangement. Why must the concurrent series of events
be kept separate? Show how the law of synchronism would apply in
the construction of a history of modern Europe. What constitutes
unity in a narration? Illustrate.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Prepare an essay on the descriptive element in the romance
" Lorna Doone ; " in Kingsley's "Westward Ho!" in William
Black's " A Princess of Thule," " White Heather," or " Briseis ; " in
" The House of the Seven Gables ; " or in Prescott's " The History of
the Conquest of Mexico."

Analyze Macaulay's account of the trial of Warren Hastings, one
of the finest pieces of combined description and narration in the Eng-
lish language. Construct the framework. Note the part played by
description. Study the minuteness of the historian's information.
Observe how every incident contributes to the effect.

For everyday exercises in narration, the following subjects will
prove suggestive : Incidents from the Student's Daily Life. — A Canoe-
ing, Horseback, or Bicycle Tour. — An Afternoon on Skates. — An
Excursion on Snowshoes or on an Ice Yacht. — A Runaway Accident.

— A Fire in the Town. — A Sewing Bee. —An Afternoon or Evening
Reception. — A Theater Party. — Doings on Election Day, Thanks-
giving Day, Christmas, or Decoration Day. — Shining a Deer. — Trap-
ping a Fox. — A Wild Duck's Nonchalance. — A Day with the Rifle.

— A Game of Tennis, or Golf, or Polo. — Incidents of a Trip by Rail.

— The Opening of a Public Library. —The Dedication of a Chapel.

Il6 LITERARY INVENTION.

LESSON XI.

ARGUMENTATION.

An important end of eloquence is the conviction of the hearers. In two kinds
of discourse, such conviction is the avowed purpose. One is that addressed to the
understanding, in which the speaker proposes to prove some position disbelieved or
doubted by the hearers ; the other is that which is calculated to influence the will,
and persuade to a certain conduct — for it is by convincing the judgment that he
proposes to interest the passions, and fix the resolution. — DR. CAMPBELL.

Argumentation aims at inducing Belief. — Description
and narration deal with facts ; argumentation, with rea-
sons. Argumentation seeks to convince; that is, to sat-
isfy the understanding by exhibiting proof. In a mere act
of conviction, the will is not involved ; a man may be con-
vinced against his will. But when the will is won by an
appeal to his sense of duty, personal interests, or other
considerations, the hearer is persuaded, that is, roused to
action in harmony with his convictions. It is the object
of rhetorical argumentation both to convince and to
persuade.

Argumentation addresses the Judgment, the faculty
employed in establishing belief by drawing a conclusion
from antecedent propositions called premises. Each prem-
ise is a judgment, in which is declared the agreement or
disagreement of two objects of apprehension; thus, The
rose is red ; The house is not a three-story building, — are
judgments.

An act of reasoning implies the drawing of an in-
ference from two related judgments. When expressed

ARGUMENTA TION. 1 1 7

in language, an act of reasoning is called an Argument.
The following is a simple argument, or Syllogism : —

All men are subject to death {major premise).

A is a man {minor premise).

A is subject to death (conclusion).

The first two judgments are the premises, the third is the
conclusion. The syllogism may assume a negative form.
Hence in the conclusion is stated either the agreement
or disagreement of the things compared (in this case, A
and mortality). As far as they agree or disagree with a
medium of comparison (men), so far they agree or dis-
agree with each other. Every valid argument can be
reduced to the general form of the positive or negative
syllogism (syllogism means presented in compact, sym-
metrical form).

It is the province of logic as a science to discuss the
many simple and complicated processes of reaching con-
clusions, to distinguish between true and false methods of
reasoning, and to furnish us with valid forms. " Logic
forges the arms which rhetoric teaches us to wield."

Sources of Proof ; Intuition. — It has been stated
that argumentation induces belief by the exhibition of
proof or evidence. Dr. Campbell, in his " Philosophy of
Rhetoric," defines the two great sources of proof as Intui-
tion and Experience. Intuition (literally, looking at}
implies immediate mental perception, conviction without
the aid of reasoning. There is no better proof of the exist-
ence of a thing than the conscious seeing or hearing it.
The perception of a Jacqueminot rose includes the sense
intuitions, — sweet, round, red, soft ; the very apprehension
of such a group of qualities is the proof of the rose.

Il8 LITERARY INVENTION,

There are also reason intuitions, truths that are known
as soon as thought of or about, like space, time, identity,
personal existence. Such are all moral, philosophical, and
mathematical axioms ; as, The whole is greater than a
part ; Whatever has a beginning has a cause ; We ought
to be grateful for favors. To maintain propositions the
reverse of sense or reason intuitions would be manifestly
absurd.

Experience ; Testimony. — The inventor in the field
of argument, whose personal knowledge is insufficient, or
needs" substantiation, would naturally turn to the expe-
rience of others, whence comes the great mass of what we
know. It is what others have seen or heard that consti-
tutes history, establishes guilt or innocence, proves or
refutes crucial questions.

Specially competent persons, acknowledged experts, literary works
of recognized authority, are constantly appealed to for the decision of
disputed points. Concurrence in the oral or written testimony of a
number of witnesses determines facts with absolute certainty. The
story of the Gospels, embodying the consistent testimony of the four
evangelists, is a perfect illustration of this kind of proof.

Induction. — An argument for or against a proposition
may be extended by enumerating the particular expe-
riences from which the general truth has been inferred.
Conclusions based on a large number of instances are con-
sidered morally certain. We reason that there will be
skating through the Northern States in holiday week,
because this has been the case heretofore more frequently
than otherwise. Probability increases with the number
of instances ; therefore, we are sure that there will be
skating sometime during the winter, this being the uni-
versal experience.

ARGUMENTA TION. 1 19

Here we are reasoning from facts, or utterances of
some truth, to the truth itself ; from specific cases to gen-
eral principles. This is called Induction, and obviously
rests on experience. All true science is inductive, in that
it is a searching of nature for facts. In any case, the
reasoner must be careful not to infer a general truth from
insufficient or conflicting data.

Illustration of Induction. — An angler recently discovered in a
lake of Huntertown, Province of Quebec, a fish with which science
was unacquainted. On examination, the following facts were noted:
the fish is strikingly symmetrical, unmottled, unspotted in summer;
has a markedly forked tail, small fins, diminutive mouth, weak denti-
tion, large liquid eye, brilliant coloration ; is gregarious in its habits ;
frequents the depths of the lake ; and appears on shallows in the fall
to cast its spawn. These characteristics determined the law of the
new fish. The examiner was then prompted to inquire whether there
were in neighboring waters other fish in any respects conforming to
this law ; and his inquiries resulted in the discovery that fish having
not all, but a number, of the habits and structural peculiarities of the
Huntertown specimen, inhabited at least three drainage basins in the
northeastern part of the United States.

His mind next passed from the unknown to the various known
species of Salmonidce, and by comparison he found that certain char
(commonly, but erroneously, known as trout) inhabiting lakes in
Greenland and Labrador, sufficiently resembled his specimen to be
classed under the same general variety. His imagination then leaped
to the conclusion that numerous forms of an arctic char were remotely
native to all our lakes ; that in most cases this fish had perished, but
in the lakes in question it had survived by reason of the uniformly low
temperature of their deep waters. Every similar form that may here-
after be discovered will strengthen the assumption. This illustrates
the inductive method.

A Posteriori Reasoning, reasoning from a consequent
to an antecedent, or from effects to their causes, is a kind
of induction. When we reason from the visible universe

120 LITERARY INVENTION.

back to a first great Cause, we reason a posteriori. His-
tory and science both employ this method.

The Argument from Analogy, inference of agreement
in certain particulars because of proved or acknowledged
similarity in other particulars, is inductive in nature. It
implies an indirect experience founded on resemblance ;
the gist of it being, that what is true in a case sim-
ilar in some special particulars or circumstances, may
reasonably be believed true in the case under consid-
eration. The degree of probability depends on the de-
gree of similarity. Analogy is the basis of many of the
Parables.

Bishop Butler's " The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed,
to the Constitution and Course of Nature," affords a most instruct-
ive illustration of this kind of proof. Deistic objections are answered
by recourse to various analogies, and answered conclusively. The
closeness of the analogies adduced renders highly probable the truth
of the doctrines of Christianity. Thus Butler argues from analogy of
a foreordained plan in the successive stages of human existence : —

"Thus much is manifest, that the whole natural world and the govern-
ment of it is a scheme or system, not a fixed, but a progressive one ; a
scheme fn which the operation of various means takes up a great length of
time before the ends they tend to can be attained. The change of seasons,
the ripening of the fruits of the earth, the very history of a flower, is an in-
stance of this ; and so is human life. Thus vegetable bodies, and those of
animals, though possibly formed at once, yet grow up by degrees to a mature
state. And thus rational agents who animate these latter bodies are naturally
directed to form, each his own manners and character, by the gradual gaining
of knowledge and experience and by a long course of action. Our existence
is not only successive, as it must be of necessity ; but one state of our life and
being is appointed by God to be a preparation for another, and that to be
the means of attaining to another succeeding one, — infancy to childhood,
childhood to youth, youth to mature age. Men are impatient and for pre-
cipitating things ; but the Author of nature appears deliberate throughout
his operations, accomplishing his natural ends by slow and successive steps.
And there is a plan of things beforehand laid out, which from the nature of

ARGUMENTA TION. 1 2 1

it requires various systems of means, as well as lengths of time, in order to
the carrying on its several parts into execution. Thus, in the daily course of
natural providence, God operates in the very same manner as in the dispensa-
tion of Christianity, making one thing subservient to another, this to some-
what further, and so on through a progressive series of means, which extend
both backward and forward beyond our utmost view."

Deduction reverses the inductive process, and, begin-
ning with the general law or principle, descends to the
particular instance. The syllogism on p. 117 is deduct-
ive in form. In deduction, the argument may be inde-
pendent of experience, the major premise consisting of a
reason intuition; or it may be based directly on experi-
ence, the major premise being a law of nature cognized
by the mind, and ascertained by inductive reasoning ; to
wit, All men are subject to death. So-called a priori
reasoning — from antecedent to consequent, or from
cause to effect — is deductive. When we assume as a
truth the existence of an all-wise, all-powerful, personal
God, and reason from this God to his works, we employ
an a priori argument.

Refutation. — Evidence is sometimes applied indirectly
to overthrow an erroneous position, and thus leave a truth
untrammeled. The weakness of the argument attacked
may be discovered in a false premise or an illogical con-
clusion. The following extract from Lord Macaulay's
speech in refutation of the arguments of certain members
of Parliament against the removal of all civil disabilities
from Jewish subjects, well illustrates this destructive kind
of reasoning : —

" My honorable friend has appealed to us as Christians. Let me, then,
ask him how he understands that great commandment which comprises the
law and the prophets. Can we be said to do unto others as we would that

122 LITERARY INVENTION.

they should do unto us, if we wantonly inflict on them even the smallest pain?
As Christians, surely we are bound to consider, first, whether, by excluding
the Jews from all public trust, we give them pain ; and, secondly, whether it
be necessary to give them that pain in order to avert some greater evil. That
by excluding them from public trust we inflict pain on them, my honorable
friend will not dispute. As a Christian, therefore, he is bound to relieve
them from that pain, unless he can show, what I am sure he has not yet
shown, that it is necessary to the general good that they should continue to
suffer.

" But where, he says, are you to stop, if once you admit into the House
of Commons people who deny the authority of the Gospels ? Will you let in
a Mussulman ? Will you let in a Parsee ? Will you let in a Hindoo, who
worships a lump of stone with seven heads ? I will answer my honorable
friend's question by another. Where does he mean to stop ? Is he ready to
roast unbelievers at slow fires ? If not, let him tell us why ; and I will
engage to prove that his reason is just as decisive against the intolerance
which he thinks a duty as against the intolerance which he thinks a crime.
Once admit that we are bound to inflict pain on a man because he is not of
our religion, and where are you to stop? Why stop at the point fixed by my
honorable friend rather than at the point fixed by the honorable member for
Oldham [Cobbett], who would make the Jews incapable of holding land?
And why stop at the point fixed by the honorable member for Oldham rather
than at the point which would have been fixed by a Spanish inquisitor of the
sixteenth century? When once you enter on a course of persecution, I defy
you to find any reason for making a halt till you have reached the extreme
point. When my honorable friend tells us that he will allow the Jews to
possess property to any amount, but that he will not allow them to possess
the smallest political power, he holds contradictory language. Property is
power. . . .

"But, says my honorable friend, it has been prophesied that the Jews
are to be wanderers on the face of the earth, and that they are not to mix on
terms of equality with the people of the countries in which they sojourn.
Now, sir, I am confident that I can demonstrate that this is not the sense of
any prophecy which is part of Holy Writ. For it is an undoubted fact, that
in the United States of America Jewish citizens do possess all the privileges
possessed by Christian citizens. Therefore, if the prophecies mean that the
Jews never shall, during their wanderings, be admitted by other nations to
equal participation of political rights, the prophecies are false. But the
prophecies are certainly not false. Therefore their meaning cannot be that
which is attributed to them by my honorable friend.

"Another objection which has been made to this motion is, that the

ARGUMENTATION. 123

Jews look forward to the coming of a great deliverer, to their return to
Palestine, to the rebuilding of their temple, to the revival of their ancient
worship, and that therefore they will always consider England, not their
country, but merely as their place of exile. But surely, sir, it would be the
grossest ignorance of human nature to imagine that the anticipation of an
event which is to happen at some time altogether indefinite, of an event
which has been vainly expected during many centuries, of an event which
even those who confidently expect that it will happen do not confidently
expect that they or their children or their grandchildren will see, can ever
occupy the minds of men to such a degree as to make them regardless of
what is near and present and certain. Indeed, Christians, as well as Jews,
believe that the existing order of things will come to an end. Many Chris-
tians believe that Jesus will visibly reign on earth during a thousand years.
Expositors of prophecy have gone so far as to fix the year when the millen-
nial period is to commence. Are we to exclude millenarians from Parlia-
ment and from office, on the ground that they are impatiently looking forward
to the miraculous monarchy which is to supersede the present dynasty and
the present constitution of England, and that therefore they cannot be heartily
loyal to King William? . . .

" Nobody knows better than my honorable friend, the member for the
University of Oxford, that there is nothing in their national character which
unfits them for the highest duties of citizens. He knows, that in the infancy
of civilization, when our island was as savage as New Guinea, when letters
and arts were still unknown to Athens, when scarcely a thatched hut stood
on what was afterwards the site of Rome, this contemned people had their
fenced cities and cedar palaces, their splendid temple, their fleets of merchant
ships, their schools of sacred learning, their great statesmen and soldiers,
their natural philosophers, their historians, and their poets. What nation ever
contended more manfully against overwhelming odds for its independence
and religion? What nation ever, in its last agonies, gave such signal proofs
of what may be accomplished by a brave despair? And if, in the course of
many centuries, the oppressed descendants of warriors and sages have degen-
erated from the qualities of their fathers, if, while excluded from the blessings
of law, and bowed down under the yoke of slavery, they have contracted
some of the vices of outlaws and of slaves, shall we consider this as matter of
reproach to them ? Shall we not rather consider it as matter of shame and
remorse to ourselves ? Let us do justice to them. Let us open to them the
door of the House of Commons. Let us open to them every career in which
ability and energy can be displayed. Till we have done this, let us not
presume to say that there is no genius among the countrymen of Isaiah,
no heroism among the descendants of the Maccabees."

124 LITERARY INVENTION.

"The 6clat," says Dr. Bascom, "which attends the suc-
cessful refutation even of a single argument, and the quick
judgment which is arrived at, that remaining considerations
are of the same character, sometimes make an important
advantage equivalent to a complete overthrow."

Reductio ad Absurdum. — Finally, a proposition may
be proved by establishing the falsity of its opposite. This
method is known as the Reductio ad Absurdum (reduction
to an absurdity), and is familiar to students of geometry.

Quality, Number, and Order of Arguments. — It is the
special function of rhetoric to select and arrange the argu-
ments which are to induce conviction. The principles
of adaptation must be consulted. Only such arguments
as are clear, strong, and convincing, are to be chosen ;
and these are to be carefully adapted to the capacity of
the persons addressed. As few arguments as will prove
the case, is the rule of economy here ; and these few
must not be unduly extended, burdening the memory
and exhausting the patience of the hearer or reader. A
few good points skillfully put, and a comparatively rapid
pace to a climax, are the main essentials.

With all this, the speaker or writer must preserve his
composure throughout, avoiding all appearance of irrita-
tion or anger. What is called the volcanic style may,
under some circumstances, be attended with transient suc-
cess ; but the student should remember that the masters
of argumentation are not blatant. Dignity may be vehe-
ment, but never rants.

Macaulay's speech against the extension of the term
of copyright to sixty years, reckoned from the death of
the writer, exhibits the order of climax. The following
are the closing arguments : —

ARGUMENTA TION.

125

" I have shown you, that if the law had been what you are now going
to make it, the finest prose work of fiction in the language, the finest bio-
graphical work in the language, would very probably have been suppressed.
But I have stated my case weakly. The books which I have mentioned are
singularly inoffensive books, — books not touching on any of those questions
which drive even wise men beyond the bounds of wisdom. There are books
of a very different kind, — books which are the rallying points of great politi-
cal and religious parties. What is likely to happen if the copyright of one
of these books should by descent or transfer come into the possession of
some hostile zealot? I will take a single instance. It is only fifty years since
John Wesley died ; and all his works, if the law had been what my honora-
ble and learned friend wishes to make it, would now have been the property
of some person or other. The sect founded by Wesley is the most numerous,
the wealthiest, the most powerful, the most zealous, of sects. In every parlia-
mentary election it is a matter of the greatest importance to obtain the sup-
port of the Wesleyan Methodists. Their numerical strength is reckoned by
hundreds of thousands. They hold the memory of their founder in the great-
est reverence ; and not without reason, for he was unquestionably a great and
a good man. To his authority they constantly appeal. His works are, in
their eyes, of the highest value. His doctrinal writings they regard as con-
taining the best system of theology ever deduced from Scripture. His jour-
nals, interesting even to the common reader, are peculiarly interesting to the
Methodist; for they contain the whole history of that singular polity, which,
weak, and despised in its beginning, is now, after the lapse of a century, so
strong, so flourishing, and so formidable. The hymns to which he gave his
imprimatur are a most important part of the public worship of his followers.
Now, suppose that the copyright of these works should belong to some person
who holds the memory of Wesley, and the doctrines and discipline of the
Methodists, in abhorrence. There are many such persons. The ecclesiastical
courts are at this very time sitting on the case of a clergyman of the Estab-
lished Church who refused Christian burial to a child baptized by a Methodist
preacher. I took up the other day a work which is considered as among
the most respectable organs of a large and growing party in the Church of
England, and there I saw John Wesley designated as a forsworn priest. Sup-
pose that the works of Wesley were suppressed. Why, sir, such a grievance
would be enough to shake the foundations of Government. Let gentlemen
who are attached to the Church reflect for a moment what their feelings
would be, if the Book of Common Prayer were not to be reprinted for thirty
or forty years, if the price of a Book of Common Prayer were run up to five
or ten guineas. And then let them determine whether they will pass a law
under which it is possible, under which it is probable, that so intolerable a

126 LITERARY INVENTION.

wrong may be done to some sect consisting, perhaps, of half a million of
persons.

" I am so sensible, sir, of the kindness with which the House has listened
to me, that I will not detain you longer. I will only say this, that if the
measure before us should pass, and should produce one tenth part of the evil
which it is calculated to produce, and which I fully expect it to produce,
there will soon be a remedy, though of a very objectionable kind. Just as the
absurd acts which prohibited the sale of game were virtually repealed by the
poacher, just as many absurd revenue acts have been virtually repealed by
the smuggler, so will this law be virtually repealed by piratical booksellers.
At present, the holder of copyright has the public feeling on his side. Those
who invade copyright are regarded as knaves who take the bread out of the
mouths of deserving men. Everybody is well pleased to see them restrained
by the law, and compelled to refund their ill-gotten gains. No tradesmen of
good repute will have anything to do with such disgraceful transactions.
Pass this law, and that feeling is at an end. Men very different from the
present race of piratical booksellers will soon infringe this intolerable mo-
nopoly. Great masses of capital will be constantly employed in the violation
of the law. Every art will be employed to evade legal pursuit; and the
whole nation will be in the plot. On which side, indeed, should the public
sympathy be when the question is, whether some book as popular as ' Robin-
son Crusoe,' or ' The Pilgrim's Progress,' shall be in every cottage, or
whether it shall be confined to the libraries of the rich for the advantage of
the great-grandson of a bookseller, who, a hundred years before, drove a hard
bargain for the copyright with the author when in great distress? Remem-
ber, too, that, when once it ceases to be considered as wrong and discreditable
to invade literary property, no person can say where the invasion will stop.
The public seldom makes nice distinctions. The wholesome copyright which
now exists will share in the disgrace and danger of the new copyright which
you are about to create. And you will find, that, in attempting to impose
unreasonable restraints on the reprinting of the works of the dead, you have,
to a great extent, annulled those restraints which now prevent men from pil-
laging and defrauding the living."

The Order of Climax modified. — When, by reason of
the indifference or prejudice of an audience, it is deemed
necessary to create a forcible impression at the outset, the
order of climax is usually varied ; the reasoning begins
with an argument sufficiently powerful to compel atten-
tion, grows in strength and interest with the progress of

ARGUMENTA TION. 1 2 /

the discourse, and ends with a stroke that demolishes
opposition. Some rhetoricians have advised always to
begin and close with the strongest arguments, placing
weak arguments in the middle of the reasoning, as troops
are disposed in battle. But this is questionable. Beggars
between well-dressed persons are only rendered conspicu-
ous by the contrast. The best use to make of weak argu-
ments is to discard them entirely.

Burden of Proof. — In many cases of argumentative
controversy, an obligation rests particularly upon one of
the disputants to establish the truth of some proposition
by adducing evidence. Such obligation is called the
Burden of Proof ; and it is important for a debater to
apprehend whether it lies on him or on his adversary.
If it lies on him, his method must be aggressive ; but, if
the presumption recognized by the law of evidence is in
his favor, he need merely stand on the defensive. Thus,
by realizing where the burden of proof rests, the reasoner
may often save himself the useless task of proving what is
admitted to be true.

A burden of proof rests on the teachers of evolution to exhibit the
links missing betwe.cn recognized types in the chain of creation. A
burden of proof rests equally on all persons who turn their backs on
the simple faith of their fathers in favor of Theosophy, Buddhism, or
Agnosticism. They must begin with a refutation of the truths of
revealed religion as taught in the Bible.

Literary Apologies are arguments in defense or jus-
tification of some position, doctrine, or course of conduct.
Sir Philip Sidney defended the truth of his views in his
" Apologie for Poetrie ; " John Wyclif wrote an apology
for translating the Bible

128 LITERARY INVENTION.

QUESTIONS.

How does argumentation differ from description and narration?
Explain the difference between convincing and persuading. What is
the object of argumentation ? What faculty does it address ? Give an
illustration of a positive judgment ; of a negative judgment ; of a
simple argument, pointing out the major premise, the minor premise,
and the conclusion. What is always stated in the conclusion?

Name the two great sources of proof. Define intuition. Illus-
trate sense intuitions ; reason intuitions. What is the function of
testimony? Explain expert testimony; concurrence of testimony.
Define induction. On what does probability here depend ? Illustrate
induction. Explain a posteriori reasoning, and the argument from
analogy. Name the best illustration of analogy. What is accom-
plished, and how, by Bishop Butler?

Describe deduction; a priori reasoning. What is refutation?
The reductio ad absurdum ? As regards quality, what arguments only
are permissible ? As regards number, how many are to be chosen ?
What arrangements are most effective? Characterize the volcanic
style. How is dignity secured in argumentation? Define burden of
proof, and explain the importance of realizing where it rests. What
are literary apologies?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

IN ILLUSTRATION OF THE ARGUMENTATIVE STYLE. — Read Mil-
ton's " Areopagitica ; " the speeches of Burke ; of Macaulay ; and espe-
cially of Charles James Fox, " the most brilliant and accomplished
debater the world ever saw," whose habit it was, " after he had stated
the argument of his adversary with much greater strength than his
adversary had done, and with much greater than his hearers thought
possible, to seize it with the strength of a giant, and trample it to
destruction."

IN ANALYSIS. — Select the arguments used by Burke in the
" Speech on Conciliation with America; " or by Fox in the " Speech
against the Boston Port Bill." Is the order of climax observed? Are
the arguments convincing, etc.?

Read Daniel Webster's refutation of Robert Young Hayne's argu-
ment in favor of the doctrine of nullification, that individual States

ARGUMENTA TION. \ 29

have the right to nullify acts of Congress. Criticise the refutation
from a rhetorical standpoint. State what you think of the speech as
a specimen of parliamentary logic.

Refer to Butler's " Analogy." Show how it proves the extreme
probability of natural and revealed religion, and is thus "a panacea
for religious doubt." (Consult Dr. Pynchon's " Bishop Butler, with
an Examination of the Analogy.")

Write out the argument from analogy in the parable of the Unjust
Steward (Luke xvi.). What does this parable recommend to Chris-
tians in spiritual matters ? Remember, that, in a true argument from
analogy, the thing from which and the thing to which we argue, " are
not necessarily themselves alike, but stand in similar relations to some
other things. An egg and a seed are not alike, but bear a like relation
to the parent bird and to her future nesting, on the one hand, and to
the old and young plant on the other, respectively ; this relation being
the genus (see p. 131) which both fall under."

IN ORIGINAL WORK. — The following themes are suggested :
Discuss the Effects on the Treasury and on the People of the Reduc-
tion of Letter Postage to One Cent. — Discuss the Economic Effects
of a Great International Exhibition (like the World's Fair) on the Dif-
ferent Classes of People in the City in which it is held. — Resolved,
That Immigration to the United States should be unrestricted. — Can
the Government aid in the Cure of Alcoholic Intemperance? (consult
Jevons's "Methods of Social Reform.") — Should the Early Closing
of Shops be enforced by Law ? — Ought Museums and Art Galleries
to be Open on Sunday ? (consult Linklater's " Sunday and Recrea-
tion.")— Should our Railways be purchased and managed by the
Government ? (centralization, economy, reduction of fares and freight
rates ; government management not efficient ; the State a bad land-
lord; jobbery. Consult Gait's " Railway Reform," and Jevons's
"Methods.") — Should Capital Punishment be abolished? (Ben-
tham's " Rationale of Punishment," DuCane's " Punishment and
Prevention of Crime.") — Resolved, That Voting should be made
Compulsory.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Dr. Campbell's " The Philosophy of Rhetoric," Professor Bas-
com's "Philosophy of Rhetoric," Professor Davis's "Elements of
Deductive Logic," Professor C. B. Bradley's "Orations and Argu-
ments by English and American Statesmen."

QUACK. RHET. — 9

I3O LITERARY INVENTION.

LESSON XII.

EXPOSITION.

Exposition is that kind of composition which deals with its subject matter so
as to reach a certain conclusion through the discussion of facts or principles. —
JAMES DE MILLE.

Exposition is applicable to knowledge or information in the form of what
is called the sciences, as mathematics, natural philosophy, chemistry, physiology!
natural history, the human mind. — PROFESSOR BAIN.

Rhetorical Exposition is Detailed Explanation. It

consists in unfolding, or laying out to view, the meaning
of an author ; in defining ; in setting forth an abstract
subject in its various relations ; or in presenting doctrines,
precepts, principles, or rules, for the purpose of instruct-
ing others. This book is an exposition. As material
objects, events, and judgments are the natural subjects
of description, narration, and argumentation, so are ideas
or opinions, of exposition. Such constitute a generalized
element, which it is the province of exposition to dissect
and classify, and in this way prepare for assimilation by
the mind.

Dr. Mansell, in his " Philosophy of Consciousness," thus analyzes
his subject : —

" Consciousness, in its relation to the subject or person conscious, is
composed of two elements, — the presentative or intuitive, and the representa-
tive or reflective. The phenomena of the former class may be distinguished
by the general name of intuitions ; those of the latter, by that of thoughts."

Definition (fixing- limits) is che basis of all exposition.
It implies precise explanation of what is expressed by the

EXPOSITION, 13!

notion. A common method of procedure is to state the
constituent notions (analysis), as in the example just given.
Aristotle taught that a definition consists of: (i) A genus,
or including class, more general than the thing to be de-
fined ; (2) A differentia, or expression of difference between
the thing defined and others of the same class.

Take the definition, "Geology is the science which determines
the chronological succession of the great formations of the earth's
crust, and investigates the causes of its present surface features;
which further treats of the materials composing the earth's substance,
and of the development of life upon our globe as recorded in its rocky
framework." Here we first assign the class, or genus (science), and
then proceed to explain wherein geology differs from all other sciences,
viz., in having for its subject matter the ancient history of the earth.

The Essentials of a Good Definition are economy, sim-
plicity, clearness. The definer should select as few charac-
teristic particulars as will serve his purpose, and express
these so that the explanation will be perfectly intelligible.
Many definitions are more obscure than the notion defined ;
by way of illustration, the following of Herbert Spencer's :
" Evolution is an integration of matter and concomitant
dissipation of motion ; from an indefinite, incoherent homo-
geneity, to a definite, coherent heterogeneity, through
continuous differentiations and integrations." This has
meaning only for a specialist. The philosopher failed to
construct a conception of the notion defined out of others
better known to the reader.

In contrast with this explanation is the following luminous defini-
tion of literature from Vinet's " Outlines of Philosophy : " —

"That to which men have agreed to give the special name of literature
is a thing that comes into contact with everything else. The domain < A
literature, distinct from science and pure erudition, embraces an aggregate of

132 LITERARY INVENTION.

productions which forms the outermost stratum of the treasures of thought
and knowledge ; writings which border on all others, or which derive and
deliver up their elaborated and generalized results to a wider public than the
special one of the man of science ; writings in which man synthetically
reveals himself to man. Impinging at its extremities on philosophy, science,
and erudition, literature displays in the interval its somewhat indefinite
domain, just as a valley stretches out between, and slopes up, the different
hills without one's being able exactly to say where it ends. Besides its
necessary relation with knowledge, literature has equally direct and more
important ones with life, of which it is the echo, and the ideas of which it
represents or denounces. It is preeminently 'the expression of society,'
that is to say, of government, religion, morals, and events, all at once, — an
expression particularly precious when involuntary. It always expresses the
ideas and impressions of society. The poetry of a given age teaches us less
what it has than what it wants and what it loves. It is a living medal, where
the concavities in the die are transformed into convexities on the bronze or
the gold. Literature is, in short, the beautiful realized by language."

A Definition may be amplified (and herein largely con-
sists the process of exposition) by referring to the par-
ticular members or species composing the class or genus.
A definition of poetry is made plainer by mentioning
familiar lyrics ; of electricity, by presenting static, faradic,
and galvanic forms ; of protozoa, by exhibiting drawings
or actual specimens of common animalcules.

Or, to the differentia which distinguishes the notion to
be explained, we may add the particulars of an opposed
notion, and thus contribute to the clearness of the original
conception. The definition of poetry, already amplified
by the presentation of concrete instances, may be further
extended by contrasting poetry with its opposite, science ;
the proper object of the first being the communication of
pleasure, and that of the second, the acquirement and
communication of truth.

Repetition, or presenting the meaning of the term
defined under different forms, is commonly resorted to

EXPOSITION. I 2 2

-J «J

when there is danger of misunderstanding. If the same
thing is said in two ways, " the idea is brought before the
reader's mind with a roundness like that of binocular
vision." And finally, a definition may be amplified nega-
tively, by pointing out in what the notion does not con-
sist, and so by exclusion arriving at an explanation. The
following negative definition of consciousness is selected
from the works of Sir William Hamilton and other writers
on metaphysics : —

" Consciousness is not merely mind in action, for there is no such thing
as inactivity of mind, either in the sleeping or waking state. Consciousness
is not equivalent to personal identity, which continues through states of
unconsciousness (I am the same person in a swoon as before or after).
Many philosophers have defined consciousness as a feeling ; but we are
conscious of a feeling ; hence they are guilty of a logical seesaw or circle.
They define consciousness by feeling, and feeling by consciousness ; that is,
they explain the same by the same, and thus leave us no wiser. Others say
that consciousness is a knowledge ; and others again, that it is a belief or con-
viction of a knowledge. Here we have the same violation of logical law.
Is there any knowledge or belief of which we are not conscious? There is
not, there cannot be ; therefore consciousness is not contained under either
knowledge or belief ; but, on the contrary, knowledge and belief are both
contained under consciousness. In short, the notion of consciousness is so
elementary that it cannot be resolved into others more simple. It cannot,
therefore, be brought under any genus, any more general conception, and con-
sequently it cannot be defined. It may, however, be likened to a light, an
inner illumination, by which all the phenomena of mind are made visible.
Consciousness may thus be explained as the self-luminousness of mind."

Exposition characterizes Numerous Literary Forms,

both prose and poetical, which will be discussed in Parts
V. and VI. It also enters readily into combination with
the other processes of discourse, as illustrated in the
unfolding of facts by every describer and narrator, and
in the explanation or defining of his theme by a debater.

134 LITERARY INVENTION.

Speculation is the exposition or narration of theoretical
views, not based on experience or verified by fact. No
better illustration of this kind of writing can be recom-
mended than Cardinal Newman's " The Idea of a Univer-
sity," — a perfect handling of a theory.

QUESTIONS.

In what does exposition consist? in what, definition? Give Aris-
totle's analysis of a definition. What is the genus? what, the differen-
tia ? Illustrate by defining geology, geography, grammar, mathematics.
In William Renton's definition of a classic, separate the genus from the
differentia : "A classic is a writer who represents adequately the genius
of his country, with sufficient force superadded of his own to expound
that genius, and make it interesting." State the essentials of a good
definition. Illustrate a meaningless definition.

How may a definition be amplified? First, by adducing particu-
lars? Secondly, by contrast? Thirdly, by repetition? Negatively?
Illustrate a negative definition. What is speculation?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

An essay is an exposition (see p. 346). The following are sug-
gested as subjects for original essays or short paragraphs : —

Tendency of Athletic Games. — Advantages or Disadvantages of
Cheap Literature. — Evils of Indiscriminate Charity. — Self-control.
— Shams. — Satisfaction resulting from a Conscientious Discharge of
Duty. — Importance of Agricultural Colleges to America. — The Chi-
nese in America. — A Penny saved is a Penny got. — Impulse and
Principle. — Silent Influence. — Unwritten Heroism. — Importance of
Reading Shakespeare. — Trade Unions. — Trial by Jury, its History,
Advantages, and Disadvantages. — Modern Chivalry (the knight, the
gentlemnn). — Free Libraries. — Self-culture. — The Good or the
Harm of a Protective Tariff. — The Right or the Wrong of Labor
Strikes. — Church Unity. — What is Worldliness ?

Require each student to select from books he is reading three
definitions that conform to the canon of Aristotle.

PART III.

LITERARY STYLE.

LESSON XIII.

THE MEDIA OF DISCOURSE. — DICTION. — SOURCES OF WORDS.—
POLITE USAGE.

If thought is the gold, style is the stamp which makes it current, and says
under what king it was issued. — DR. JOHN BROWN'S Horce Subseciva.

The literary artist has his great or rich visions before him, and his only aim is
to bring out what he thinks or what he feels in a way adequate to the thing spoken
of, and appropriate to the speaker. — CARDINAL NEWMAN

Accustom yourself to reflect on the words you use, hear, or read ; their birth,
derivation, history, etc. For if words are not things, they are living powers by
which the things of most importance to mankind are actuated, combined, and
humanized. — COLERIDGE.

Style is the Manner of expressing Thought by the

selection and combination of words. The peculiar way
in which a writer or speaker puts selected words together
to convey ideas is called his style. Its quality depends
on three things, — his choice of words, their number, and
their arrangement in sentences and paragraphs. Hence
words, sentences, and paragraphs, may be called the Media
of Discourse, since it is through them as the instruments
of thought expression, that rhetorical effects are produced.
Style is a Fine Art. As such, it comprehends a
knowledge and employment of the means indicated by
nature and experience for attaining supreme results in
discourse. "To know what to say, and in what order"

136 LITERARY STYLE.

said Cicero, " is a thing of great importance ; but to know
how to say it, is a matter of greater importance." To
acquire the how — the power of expressing literary mate-
rial to the best advantage — is the object of studying the
principles of style.

In this connection, it is to be remembered that styles are as diverse
as the minds that give them birth, and that their individual qualities are
as inseparable from them as is personal identity from the soul. This
is because the style reflects the man behind it. It is " the transpira-
tion of character." "Speak," wrote Ben Jonson, "that I may see
thee." The thought cannot be one thing, and the style another.
" Science," said Newman, "is universal; but literature is personal."
With all this, there are properties that may be acquired by every
earnest student, — dignity, finish, variety, ease, transparency, artistic
grouping, and, preeminently, correctness.

Diction. — As is the thought, then, so will be the style.
To write well, we must think well ; and thinking well
implies, in the first place, thinking in pure, precise, clear,
energetic, and melodious words. Command of a rich and
varied stock of such words, united with ability to select
from them terms adapted to every occasion and every au-
dience, distinguishes the accomplished rhetorician. How,
therefore, to become master of such a vocabulary is a
question of primary importance to every beginner ; for, as
Aristotle taught, the first secret of style is correctness
in diction, that is, in the choice of words to embody
thoughts.

Sources of Diction. — Whence come the words that con-
stitute a writer's diction ? Many are gathered automati-
cally in reading ; large numbers are unconsciously acquired
from conversation ; others are deliberately adopted by
reason of their beauty or suggestiveness. In view of the

POLITE USAGE. 137

prevailing contempt for principle in the selection of words,
the young writer is advised to accept no expression with-
out a reason, — to add no word to his working list from
example or hearsay alone, until he has thoroughly informed
himself as to its history, derivation, spelling, pronuncia-
tion, exact meaning, and standing. A feeling for words
will thus be awakened, which must result in his acquisi-
tion of an unexceptionable vocabulary. Furthermore, he
will soon realize, that, if he knows all about the individual
words, he will be able to use them to better advantage.

Careless persons, to whom what is said is of greater importance
than the grace and correctness with which it is said, are apt to pick
up their words indiscriminately in highway and drawing-room. Thus
their vocabularies include not only good forms of which they have
never learned the precise meaning, and hence misapply, but slang and
misusages of all kinds, — those glaring inaccuracies and improprieties
which have forced their way even into polite circles, because of a
prevailing uncertainty as to what is right and what is wrong. It is to
be noted that prolonged violation of grammatical rules invariably
terminates in deplorable ignorance of them. Vigilance is the price
of purity.

Polite Usage. — The choice of words involves more
than fine instincts or carefully cultivated tastes ; it must
be made with reference to good use, — the absolute crite-
rion of right and wrong in every question pertaining to
style. Good use gives law to grammar ; for the grammar
of a tongue is simply a methodical collection of its polite
modes or fashions of speech. Now, what constitutes good
use? That usage alone can be regarded as standard
which is —

I. Reputable; that is, authorized by the majority of
writers of high reputation, — cultured authors whose merits

138 LITERARY STYLE.

as masters of language are universally acknowledged.
There exists in English a great body of writings in all
departments of composition, from which the student may
safely cull choice expressions and locutions. Consultation
of grammars and our unabridged dictionaries will further
aid him in determining what use is reputable.

II. National, as opposed to provincial and foreign.
The people of every section of the country naturally come
to consider as correct the peculiarities in the use of lan-
guage that characterize the region in which they live, but
which really form no part of the national tongue. Thus
originates what is known as " local " or " provincial "
usage. Learned men, on the other hand, often conceive
such a fondness for foreign languages as to transplant
lavishly from them both words and idioms. Such foreign
use has not the support of authority.

III. Present, as opposed to past or probable future.
The reputable national use of one period differs materially
from that of another. Pre-Elizabethan writers of repute
used words and grammatical forms that have long been
forgotten ; even words that still live in the memory of our
parents are heard no more. On the contrary, words that
we are just beginning to hear, while not yet constituent
parts of our vocabulary, may ultimately be admitted to the
full rights of citizenship. The authority of old writers
cannot obviously be accepted in support of a term or con-
struction rejected by reputable writers of to-day ; nor, on
the other hand, can any author of the time safely specu-
late on the future of a newly invented word.

Such is good use, which a Latin rhetorician defined as
the mistress of speech. It may often seem arbitrary, incon-
sistent, anomalous ; still, it is an absolute touchstone by

DIVIDED USE. 139

which the literary qualities of every composition must be
proved.

Divided Use. — Good use is not always uniform. Repu-
table authorities may sometimes be produced in support
of two different forms of expression, neither of which can
therefore be regarded as barbarous. The question is not
one of right and wrong ; but still it remains to be decided.
For the direction of our choice in such cases, criticism has
established certain canons.

I. Of two forms authorized by good usage, prefer that which
is always employed in a single sense. For instance, in the use of
irregular verbs which have two forms for the passive participle, — one
peculiar and one the same as the preterit, — always select the former.
On this principle, the participle gotten is preferable to got, hidden to
hid, and drunk to drank.

II. Where possible, consult analogy. Accept the form that
would be used in a similar case where there is no choice. Dictionary
usage recognizes both systematize and systemize. The latter should
be unhesitatingly chosen, because, in analogous cases, the verb mean-
ing to do what is associated with the name of the thing, is constructed
by adding the Greek formative ize to the noun ; thus, itemize, meth-
odize, victimize. On the same principle, conversationalist should be
conversationist, as Byron had it. We do not say chemicalist, agricul-
turalist, but chemist and agriculturist. From its etymological form,
the word unloose, which is a synonym of loose, should mean not to
untie, un being a negative prefix, as in unlock, unjoint. Loose is
therefore preferable.

III. Of different forms in other respects equal, select that which
is more agreeable to the ear. Under this canon, candidness, being less
harmonious, should give place to candor ; amiableness, to amiability.

IV. Be conservative, preferring old established forms to novelties
in diction and syntax. Preparations are making is better than prepa-
rations are being made, an illustration of a locution which has recently
come into general use (see p. 236).

V. In cases where none of the foregoing canons give either side
a ground of preference, the simpler and briefer expression is always to
be chosen.

I4O LITERARY STYLE.

QUESTIONS.

Define style. On what three things does the quality of style
depend? Name the media of discourse. As a fine art, what does
style comprehend? What did Cicero consider as of the greatest
importance? Why are styles so diverse? Give some opinions as to
the personal nature of style.

Define diction. Explain the sources of diction ; the inferior dic-
tion that characterizes ordinary conversation and writing. With what
resolves should the beginner proceed to gather his vocabulary? How
is the philological sense, or feeling for words, developed? What does
it result in? In what does indifference to grammatical rules terminate?

Explain polite usage ; the relation of grammar to use ; of style.
Name the essentials of good use. Discuss reputable use ; national use ;
present use. To what is each opposed? What is to be done in cases
where good use is not uniform? Explain how good use may not be
uniform. What governs choice in cases where one of two words
or locutions is sometimes used in a different sense? in cases where
one form is analogous to others of its kind, and one form is out of
analogy? in cases where there is a difference as regards melody?
where the choice is between the long-established and the novel?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Let each student select, for addition to his vocabulary, a list of
twenty words, gathered from the writings of Defoe, Carlyle, Cole-
ridge, Dickens, Thackeray, De Quincey, Matthew Arnold, Lamb,
Emerson, Lowell, Whittier, Longfellow, Keats, Shelley, or Tennyson,
and prepare himself to give the etymology and exact signification of
every word selected. Each list should be submitted to the instructor
for criticism. Secondly, require to be framed from newspapers, maga-
zines, popular novels, or possibly the works of the foregoing authors,
lists of twenty words that good usage would not accept. Such lists
should be prepared without consultation on the part of the students,
in order that greater variety may be secured. The first exercise may
be repeated with profit once a week throughout the school year. The
words adopted by each student should be entered in an indexed blank
book, carefully spelled and defined, and with the pronunciation indi-
cated. Periodic reference to this book will soon perfect him in the
use of a copious, varied, and elegant diction.

CRITICISM. 141

The labor involved in thus collecting a thousand words will be
found slight in proportion to the advantage gained ; and a thousand
words constitute about one-third of an average vocabulary. Unedu-
cated persons do not use more than four or five hundred separate
words. According to Max Miiller, English proper, or Saxon English,
consists of only four thousand independent words, all the rest being
derived from these. So the student is not to be appalled at the vast
number of extant English words, the publishers of the "Oxford
Dictionary " claiming, that, when completed, it will contain a quarter
million. Nearly half these are scientific terms, known only to special-
ists ; many others are obsolete, many moribund ; for a dictionary is
not only " a home for living words, but a hospital for the dying, and
a cemetery for the dead."

The " Century Dictionary," with its two hundred thousand words,
its scholarly etymologies, its perfect definitions, and its encyclopedic
features, is without question the best for the student's use, and
should be accessible in every school. Next in value stands the new
" Webster's International ; " while for a purely etymological dictionary,
none other is equal to Professor Skeat's. To write English well, the
student must be in touch with the English dictionary.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Professor Charles F. Johnson's "English Words;" Professor
Oliver Farrar Emerson's "History of the English Language" (for
sources of words) ; Renton's " Logic of Style; " Bainton's " The Art
of Authorship," which abounds in valuable advice to young persons
seeking to form a style; Max Muller's "Three Lectures on the Sci-
ence of Language and its Place in General Education ; " Dr. Garlan-
da's " The Philosophy of Words, a Popular Introduction to the Science
of Language."

142 LITERARY STYLE.

LESSON XIV.

WORDS THAT VIOLATE THE PRINCIPLES OF TIME AND PLACE.—
PURISM AND PEDANTRY. — MALAPROPS.

He who studies a language without caring to know where it comes from, and
what are the laws that rule the formation of its words, is robbed of nine tenths of
the interest which is to be found in such study. — DR. GARLANDA.

In cultivating habits of just and appropriate utterance, are we cultivating only
a rhetorical faculty, or are we not rather cultivating the power of thought itself ?
" Thought first becomes definite in language." — PROFESSOR JOHN EARLE.

Good Use employs Pure Words. — Purity, as a quality
of style, implies the use of English words in authorized
senses. Words that violate the principles of time and
place are not pure English words. Present standing
explains the principle of time ; national standing, that of
place. Hence, words that are too old and words that are
too new are out of harmony ; as are also provincialisms
and foreign terms, or alienisms. All such inharmonious
words are called Barbarisms.

Obsolete Words are words which were once English,
but for various reasons have been abandoned by polite
speakers and writers. Among these are many like the
following : —

Galsome, malignant. Sprent, sprinkled.

Aye, cattle. Strawen, glassen, and other ad-

Leviu, lightning. jectives in en.

Liefer, or liever, rather. Sweven, dream.

Ahirr, the influenza. Swink, to toil (sweat and swink).

Queacky, boggy. IVhenas, when.

Queme, to please. Wroken, avenged.

WORDS THAT VIOLATE TIME AND PLACE. 143

The use of one of these words in familiar conversation
or prose composition would be in as bad taste as the wear-
ing of a last-century costume at a modern reception. It
would argue unpardonable affectation or archaic bring-
ing up.

Many of our verbs have lost picturesque preterits and participles.
Some of these forms, which were once chaste, still linger in certain
localities, but are stigmatized as vulgarisms. For such, while com-
pelled to shun them, we cannot but entertain a feeling of sympathy.
Preterits in a have been widely dislodged from the language, — bare,
brake, clave, gat, sank, shrank, spat, swang. Dove as the past of
dive has disappeared ; and lit is obsolete as an elegant form, lighted
having taken its place. Pled and plead are no longer used for pleaded;
and het (heated) is heard only among the uneducated. Yet how beau-
tiful the form appears in Marlowe's " Hero and Leander"!

" Her blushing het her chamber ; she looked out
And all the air she purpled round about."

So riz (risse), dim, shet (for shut), and see (still common in New
England for saw), formerly elegant, are now grammatically unfash-
ionable.

Forbid as a participle (forbidden), quod (the old past of quoth),
proven (a Scotticism for proved ' ), sitten for sat (still common in some
sections, and supported as correct by Bishop Lowth), hoven for heaved
or hove, cloven for cleft, must be eschewed as dead words. It is esti-
mated that about two thirds of the Anglo-Saxon vocabulary as used
in the time of Alfred the Great has become obsolete.

Obsolescent Words. — Careful writers are equally wary
of words that are obsolescent, or becoming obsolete, like
holden (retained only in legal phraseology), sprang, eat (as a
participle for eaten}, leant for leaned (" leant on the table,"
— Shelley), spake (used in solemn address).

Obsolete Significations. — Analogous to the fault already
described is that of employing present English words in

144 LITERARY STYLE.

old obscure senses. Thus, in the day of Shakespeare, the
verb owe often had the meaning of " own ; " considerable
formerly meant "worthy of consideration ; " doubt signified
" to stand in awe of " (" He was a good man, and doubted
God,"- — Robert of Gloucester) ; collation, a "conference ; "
idiot, a " private person," not holding office ; starve, " to
die " any death (Chaucer said Christ starved upon the
cross) ; pair, a "set," as, pair (string) of beads (see p. 102),
pair (pack) of cards (Bacon and Ben Jonson), pair (flight)
of stairs, the only survival of this sense.

It is noticeable that when the meaning of a word does change, it
is almost always for the worse. Words lose caste. A boor was once
nothing more than a farmer ; a churl was a countryman ; and craft
implied dexterity without implication of double dealing. Silly (the
German selig, blessed) and simple (without a fold ) implied at first
merely innocence ; thus an old English writer calls the infant Saviour
" this harmless, silly babe." A brat was originally a pinafore and
then a child ; a knave, a serving boy; hence Gascoigne exclaims, " O
Abraham's brats, a broode of blessed seede ! " and Wyclif calls St.
. Paul a " knave of Christ." A heathen was only a man of the heath ;
as a corrupted form of the word, hoiden (rude fellow or romp), still
indicates. The radical signification of imp was "graft;" secondarily,
it became synonymous with "young person" (Spenser styles the
Muses " Th' Heliconian ymps) ; " the meaning of " young devil" now
exclusively attaches to the term.

Many words in the Authorized Version of the Bible, and in the
Prayer-Book of the Protestant-Episcopal Church, are there used in
senses different from their present. A knowledge of the obsolete sig-
nification is necessary to a correct interpretation of the text. Thus
prevent means " to precede," with no reference to obstruction ; we
pray that God's grace may always " prevent and follow us." Let
means "to hinder" ("sore let and hindered") ; by and by, "immedi-
ately ; " carriages, " things carried " ("After those days we took up our
carriages, and went up to Jerusalem," Acts xxi. 15) ; ear, "to plow."
His is the possessive of it (its does not occur in the edition of 1611) ;
a turtle is a dove ; nil re is soda; a penny is fifteen cents ; slime is bitu-
men; naughty means worthless (" naughty figs," Jer. xxiv. 2), etc*

New Words, or Neologisms, constitute " a tribe of bar-
barisms " much more numerous than those just considered.
Language, like a physical organism, is subject to alternate
addition and subtraction, repair and decay. The words
that are lost to-day are replaced to-morrow by new forms,
some of which are ephemeral, and others are adopted as
permanent additions to the vocabulary. Hence good use
cannot be fixed, but varies with generations. It will not
tolerate, however, any " arbitrary or capricious change.
In the alterations it accepts, it obeys its own wants, sub-
mits to its own law," - — necessity. The words that are
necessary become a part of the organism.

Neologisms may be divided into four classes : —

I. Words coined by Science. — A writer who is unfold-
ing the principles of a new science, and finds himself des-
titute of words to express his meaning, is at liberty, under
the law of necessity, to coin such terms as he' needs. Re-
course is generally had to Latin and Greek, particularly the
latter ; and etymological analogies must be regarded in the
process of formation. Thus, the electrician has given us
electrode, anode (positive pole), cathode (negative pole),
ampere (unit of current), volt (unit of electromotive
force), ohm (unit of electrical resistance), telephone, etc.

II. Words coined by Reputable Literary Men. — The
verb to uncentury owes its existence to Professor Drum-
mond ; sympatheticism (undue tendency to be sympa-
thetic) is a child of Howells's invention ; omnilegent
(reading everything), of Ruskin's. Christology (that branch
of theology which treats of the mystery of the incarnation,

- Schaff), uniformitarianism (the theory that the causes
now active satisfactorily account for the geological changes
of the remote past, — Darwin and Geikie), extraterritoriality

OUACK. RHET. — 10

146 LITERARY STYLE.

(exemption of the diplomatic representatives of foreign gov-
ernments from the control of the laws in the land of their
temporary sojourn, and their continued subjection to the
laws of their native territory), — are illustrations of such
words. They may be evils ; but they are certainly eco-
nomical, as they do away with tedious circumlocutions.

III. Words entering the Language through Commercial
or other Intercourse. — From the day that our Saxon
ancestors took bucket, cradle, mug, pie, and pudding, from
the British Celts ; and button, bonnet, boots, mitten, gown,
and ribbon, from Celts across the Channel, — the names
of new articles of wear, new utensils, and new products,
have been streaming into our vocabulary. As they stand
for new ideas, they fall under the law of necessity, and
are retained. The list includes hammock, canoe, potato,
tobacco, ipecac, quinine, molasses, landau, zinc, nickel, sloop,
yacht, tea, coffee, candy, sofa, mattress, magazine, and
thousands of others.

IV. Words foisted into the Language by Irresponsible
Inventors. — Such words are, for the most part, unneces-
sary novelties, and shortly disappear. Few are adopted
by good writers. Through the portals of journalism, many
spurious forms in ist (an agent) have been introduced,
without obtaining currency except among the vulgar,—
walkist, singist, stabbist (the forms in er only, being per-
missible). Camerist, aquarist (one who cultivates fishes
or water plants), and billiardist, are others of this class ;
but balladist and landscapist have the indorsement of E.
C. Stedman. Faddist (one who has a fad) is rare.

Among hundreds of these sensational terms that may well be
spared, are: derailed (English), to suicide, enthused, viatricide (rail-
road accident involving loss of life ; via, and ccedo, I kill), sororize (to

associate as sisters), skatorial (performing on skates), burgle and
burglarize, resurrected ( raised), jailed (put in jail), stispiciotied ('•ns-
pected),/£W/^//7/;-£, and two of the latest, — bicydette (a woman bicy-
clist) and miigwumpocratic. {Mugwump itself is not a new word ; it
occurs in Eliot's Indian Bible, 1661, as the Algonquin equivalent of
centurion, chief; seems to have survived as a colloquialism in parts
of New England: and was revived by the "New-York Sun" in 1884
to designate the independent Republicans who opposed the election
of James G. Elaine.) Boycott and inter-view (verb transitive) have
been accepted, because expressing ideas for which there are no exact
equivalents.

Reputable words with new significations are as barbarous as those
used in old senses. In the following sentence, the meaning of crash
is evidently carpeted with crash, or coarse linen: "The aisles of
St. John's Church were crashed for the occasion."

Hybrid or Mongrel Words. — It has been shown that
in the formation of new words, etymological analogies
must be regarded. Much objection, therefore, exists to
hybrid words, or words formed of elements from different
tongues. So numerous, however, and so necessary, are
such words, that it would be absurd for the rhetorician
to legislate against them. Whereas our common words
and our grammatical inflections are principally English, yet
the power of making new words out of this purely English
element is virtually extinct. Hence we are obliged to
link our prefixes and suffixes to foreign derivatives, or
our root words to Greek and Latin prepositions ; or, when
natural affinities permit, to join representatives of distinct
foreign languages.

Our affixes less, ly, ness; and our prefixes out, over, nn, mis, fore,
— enter readily into combination with words derived from the Latin.
Equally is a cross between the Latin cequalis and the Saxon ly (like) ;
rudeness, between the Latin rudis and the Saxon ness (state) ; out-
line, between the Saxon out and the Latin linea, — all true hybrids.
So cablegram is a compound of a French and a Greek simple ; inter-

148 LITERARY STYLE.

loper is half Latin and half Dutch ; tamarind, half Arabic and half
Persian ; ostrich, bigamy, Christmas, are half Latin and half Greek.

Compounding and Clipping account for many words of
the fourth class. By the formation of compounds through
the union of two or more simples, lengthy circumlocutions
are sometimes avoided ; but this principle does not give
liberty for the unlimited uniting of unchanged roots in
such monstrosities as " always - to - be - remembered - with-
gratitude patriot," " go - ahead - it -ive- ness," "the sudden-
at - the - moment - though - from - lingering - illness - often - pre-
viously-expected death " — created in the same manner as
the Eskimo equivalent for steam launch, omeuk-puk-ignilik-
piccaninny (little boat, big, propelled by fire, baby).
"Very few," says Dr. Phelps, "of these long-winded, long-
waisted, long-tongued, long-tailed, long-eared compounds,
are authorized English."

Equally objectionable is the habit of clipping words.
In our fast age it takes too long to say pantaloons, cabri-
olet, wrappings, hackney coach, omnibus, speculation, peni-
tentiary, gymnasium, maximum ; preference is given to
the monosyllables pants, cab, wraps, hack, bus, spec, pen,
gym, max. Gentlemen has dwindled into gents ; ladies,
into lades ; physiognomy is metamorphosed into phiz ;
examination, into exam ; advertisement, into ad. While
some of these forms are accepted by polite speakers
(wraps, cab, hack, penult, consols for consolidated bonds),
many bear the brand of impurity, none more conspicuously
than the pair coupled by Dr. Holmes in these lines : -

" The things called pants in certain documents
Were never made for gentlemen, but gents." a

1 In the parlance of some, gent has come to mean a man who has the
money and clothes, but not the breeding, of a gentleman.

WORDS THAT VIOLATE TIME AND PLACE. 149

The advice Pope gives, in " An Essay on Criticism," regarding
words that are out of time, is extremely apt : —

" 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."

That is, be conservative ; avoid extremes. Use, as Quintilian advised,
the newest of the old and the oldest of the new.

Foreign and Local Words are not National, and hence
not English. — Foreign words include unnaturalized in-
truders from all languages ; but perhaps French has been
drawn upon most largely. The practice of borrowing
from this versatile tongue began as early as 1 200 ; within
a hundred and fifty years thereafter, five thousand Nor-
man-French words had been added to the English vocab-
ulary, measurably to supply the place of dropped Saxon
scientific and poetical forms. Environs, envelope, people,
promise, cover, soldier, money, judge and jury, and hundreds
like them, are the stand-bys of centuries ; and the more
recent beau and belle, bouquet and depot, etiquette and
toilet, etc., supply real wants. But the Gallicisms that
deface correspondence, journalism, and cheap literature,
are to be rejected, because there are good English equiva-
lents.

The same is true of Italian, German, Latin, and all
other alienisms. "Our own language," says Bascom,
" should remain the adequate medium of native thought,
and be able with sufficient honor to christen its own prod-
ucts. While our goods are so poor as to need the false-
hood of a foreign land, and our thoughts so flashy as to
require the affectation of a foreign phrase, this form of

150 LITERARY STYLE.

imitation must prevail ; but genuine excellence will make
the most of itself, and be contented with itself."

If Shakespeare could pierce the deepest mysteries, and sound the
most tremendous and perplexing problems of human life and human
destiny, with the scant Elizabethan vocabulary, what excuse have we
to offer, with two hundred thousand words at our disposal, for seeking
thought expressions in foreign markets? The principle of protection
may well be extended into the domain of American words.

Provincialisms, or Sectional Words, may be illustrated
by juke (a Scotch word heard in Pennsylvania, and mean-
ing to dodge} ; forehanded, heatisJi, gaum, tack down, store
teetJi, and store sugar (New-England localisms for well off,
irascible, awkward, blanket, artificial teeth, and cane sugar,
sometimes called bougJiten sugar, in distinction from maple
sugar of home manufacture). Skedaddle, still occasionally
heard, is provincial Scotch and English, and means scatter
or spill (to skedaddle milk) ; during the Civil War, it was
used in the sense of scamper.

You^uns for you and we'nns for us — dignified old English forms —
are not peculiar to the colored population of the South. A New-York
rowdy, recently arrested, said to the officers, " You'uns have got we
this time." 1 In parts of New Hampshire, haint aivent is the equiva-
lent of bedridden; and when the farm wagon is doing service as a
hearse, it is said to be ahaulin corpse.

Careful speakers avoid the provincial pronunciation of common
English words, but adopt the polite local pronunciation of geographi-
cal names.

Purism and Pedantry. — Pure diction, while excluding
archaic, new, foreign, and local words, has further to do

1 The form occurs in Tyndale's Newe Testamente, Matt. iii. : "And
se that ye ons thinke not to saye in yourselves' We have Abraham to oure
father." You'uns is not infrequently heard in Scotland to-day.

PURISM AND PEDANTRY. 151

with the choice between the Saxon and the Franco-Latin
element of our tongue. Purism designates rigid adher-
ence to native words ; Pedantry describes an equally
intemperate use of the foreign derivatives, which is
ostentatious, and inappropriate at all times and in all
places.

Not a few, dissatisfied with our nervous, home-bred Saxon terms,
are led astray by the high-sounding Latin elements, and corrupt their
styles with " words of learned length and thundering sound." In
the case of some literary men, the use of such forms seems to have
been a passion. Dr. Johnson was so addicted to the ponderous Latin,
that his name, to this day, through the adjective Johnsonese, describes
an inflated style characterized by words of classical origin. Speaking
on one occasion of " The Rehearsal" (a burlesque of 1671), Johnson
said, " It has not wit enough to keep it sweet ; " then, after a moment
employed in translating the thought, he added, " it has not sufficient
vitality to preserve it from putrefaction." There was point in Gold-
smith's witty insinuation, that, if Dr. Johnson should write a fable
about little fishes, he would make them all talk like whales.

Our Best Authors have used Large Percentages of
Saxon Words, — Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton,
Bryant, Longfellow, Tennyson, more than eighty per cent
of the imperishable part of the tongue. Emerson, in his
" Essay on Literature," lays down the principle of choice :
"It is a tacit rule of the language to make the frame or
skeleton of Saxon words, and when elevation or ornament
is sought, to interweave Roman. Children and laborers
use the Saxon unmixed. The Latin unmixed is abandoned
to the colleges and Parliament. Mixture is a secret of the
English. A good writer, if he has indulged in a Roman
roundness, makes haste to chasten and nerve his period
by English monosyllables." Our English would live with
unimpaired strength were it to lose all but its Saxon con-

152 LITERARY STYLE.

stituents ; but, while it is true that we can converse and
write without the aid of foreign terms, it is impossible so
to do by employing these foreign terms alone.

Preference for the Saxon element must not, however, betray
the writer into exchanging long-established Franco-Latin words for
restored or manufactured Saxon forms. Such affectation results in
barbarisms like forewords for preface (Haweis, in the "Story of the
Four Evangelists," and elsewhere), hindwords for appendix (Early
English Text Society's publications), linkword for conjunction, name
-word for noun. Many such words were displaced by Greek and
Latin equivalents centuries ago ; and although extremely picturesque,
and far more suggestive than the foreign terms that have superseded
them, they must ever remain dead forms. Thus, hydrophobia usurped
the place of wester fyrhtnys (water fright) ; geometry, of earth-gemet
(earth measuring) ; agriculture, of earth tilth; disciple, of learning
knight; despair, of wanhope (worn-out hope) ; beattty, of fatrhood;
omnibus, of folk wain (wagon) ; auction, of bidding sale; astronomy,
of star craft j and poetry, of songcraft.

Malaprops. — Words used in significations not in har-
mony with those assigned to them by established usage
are called Malaprops.1 When we speak of a road's being
impracticable (for impassable) ; of informing a man of what
he already knows ; of the observation instead of the observ-
ance of the sabbath ; of choosing between t^vo alternatives
(the alternative is the choice) ; of a barn's being calculated
to take fire (that is, designed for the ptirpose), instead of
likely; of " aggravating (for vexing or exasperating) Violet
by an expression of doubt " (aggravate is to make heavy,
as to aggravate an offense), — we are guilty of the use
of malaprops.

1 From Mrs. Malaprop, whose allegory (alligator) on the banks of the
Nile, and other laughable blunders in the use of words, are familiar to all
readers of Sheridan's play of The Rivals.

MALAPROPS.

'53

Malaprops not infrequently arise from confusing words that
resemble each other in sound or appearance, or from carelessly choos-
ing between words closely related in etymology (kindred derivatives),
but having different applications and meanings. For example, from
the Middle English verb disporten (to amuse) , have sprung the three
nouns sportsman, sporting man, and sport, with important differences
of meaning. A sportsman is a lover and student of nature and her
wild life. He takes fish, and shoots furred and feathered game, in a
chivalrous manner, never unnecessarily, for the mere pleasure of kill-
ing. He is always humane, courteous, and unselfish. He must be a
gentleman. A sporting man is a professional gambler, or a pugilist.
A sport is a fast liver. So from the Anglo-Saxon gamen (joy) come the
adjectives £«//££ and gamy. The student may give the definition of each.

Conscience and consciousness are kindred derivatives. The former
is the moral sense of right and wrong; the latter has already been
explained (p. 133). The student may discriminate between human
and humane, ceremonious and ceremonial, farther and further, act
and action, curtsey and courtesy, classic and classical, antic and
antique, transcendent and transcendental, economic and economical,
respectfully and respectively, contemptible and contemptuous, adher-
ence and adhesion, healthful and healthy, neglect and negligence, prac-
tical and practicable, definite and definitive.

Learners are especially cautioned not to commit to writing unfa-
miliar words, dropped by instructor or lecturer, until such words are
made concrete in form and meaning. The class room is the place to
learn. It will save much subsequent mortification frankly to admit
ignorance there, and become correctly informed at once.

QUESTIONS.

Define purity. What explains the principle of time? what, that
of place? Define and illustrate obsolete words. Enumerate certain
preterits and participles that have passed out of use. Can you add to
this list? How much of the original Anglo-Saxon vocabulary has
become obsolete? What are obsolescent words? Criticise the use
of present words in obsolete senses. Give some interesting cases of
altered significations. Show how the meaning of words commonly
changes for the worse. Do you know of any Bible words that are
used in senses different from their present?

State the law of the new word. Into what four classes are

154 LITERARY STYLE.

neologisms divided? Which of these conform to the law? Illustrate
terms coined by science ; words introduced by reputable writers ;
words entering the language through the channels of commerce ;
forms recklessly coined. What are hybrid words, and why are they
not necessarily barbarous ? To what extreme has the compounding
of words been carried ? Illustrate clipped words that are barbarous ;
that are vulgar as well. State Pope's advice regarding the use of
words new and old ; Quintilian's.

What do foreign words include ? When should they be rejected ?
Illustrate provincialisms. Can you offer any explanation of such
local usage ? Define purism ; pedantry. State the significance of the
epithet Johnsonese, as describing a certain kind of style. Do the
best English authors use more Latin or Saxon words? What rule of
choice would you suggest? {Select the word that best expresses the
idea, without reference to its origin.} How have certain authors over-
stepped the bounds of propriety in coining or restoring Saxon forms ?
Can you recall certain picturesque Saxon compounds that have
disappeared ?

What are malaprops? Illustrate such rhetorical improprieties.
Show how they may arise from confusing words etymologically allied.
What three nouns are derived from the verb disporten ? State the
precise meaning of each. How does conscience differ from conscious-
ness ? observance from observation f Suggest a practice by regard for

which the student will eliminate malaprops from his diction.

••.-^lc

EXERCISE.

Criticise the following sentences, pointing out obsolete, newly
coined, foreign, local, and improper words or significations, that may
occur, suggesting in each case a reputable substitute : —

We lit on Aunt Elizabeth ( Tennyson). — Thou canst not fear us, Pom-
pey, with thy sails {Antony and Cleopatra}. — And a certain woman cast
a piece of a millstone upon Abimelech's head, and all to brake his skull
( Judg- ix- 53)- — Have you ne'er a son at the Groom-porters, to beg or
borrow a pair of cards quickly? (Ben Jonson.'} — The everydayness of the
scenery ( Loivell). — That is owing to his being so much versant in old Eng-
lish poetry {Bos-well}.

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke

When plundering herds assail their byke.

Tarn o'S/iattttr,

CRITICISM. 155

I love to start out arter night's begun,

And all the chores about the house are done.

Biglow Papers.

(Compare Shakespeare's "The maid that milks, and does the meanest
chares ;" and Whhtier's " Meanwhile we did our nightly chores.")

Old Faithful is by no means the most imposing of the geysers, either
in the volume of its discharge, or in the height to which it erupts ( Geikie}. —
He seems to have preserved a lasting scunner against our staid form of
worship {Lowell}. — They do it out of stupidity; they think there is a
charming le^erete about it, that it gives life to what they say {Sannders's
Schopen.ha.uer~). — All persons are forbid walking or driving through this tun-
nel {New- York sign}. — I shall take them up one by one in anatomical order;
that is, I shall proceed a capite ad calcem {Watson}. — For thou preventest
him with the blessings of goodness {Ps. xxi. 3). — The elders of that city
shall bring down the heifer unto a rough valley, which is neither eared nor
sown, and shall strike off the heifer's neck there {Dent, xxi. 4). — And David
left his carriage in the hand of the keeper of the carriage, and ran into the army
(/ Sam. xvii. 22). — Truly Varro was no mutual admirationist {Crutwell}. —
Mr. Henry James is a wonderful episodist {Spectator*}. — It must continually
be remembered that there is a procession which is made by words from one
stage to another of speech-part-ship {John Earle}. — "If I love the Ma-
donna!" was the reply. " Figuratevi, sor compare mio — just imagine
whether I love her, when every year I hire pifferari to play the novena to
her " {Story's Roba di Roma, a tissue of Italian words and phrases). — How
many boarders can you sleep and meal? {New England.} — It is true that I
have practiced a fraud upon you, but it was with a purpose solemn enough
to legitimatize it ( Old Myddletoii* s Money}.

I should admire to make one of your party. — The hotels where the con-
ventionites are ensconced are scenes of beauty and industry. — The two
alternatives set before him were to abjure the faith, or to submit to torture. —
He thought a vide supra would serve instead of repetitions. — Mr. Jones then
made a try of the un-go-through-some-ness of stuff, showing that two bodies
cannot keep the same stead at the same time {translate into common Eng-
lish}.—Mi nine o'clock the company was electrified by the arrival of the
very-handsome-though-no-longer-in-her-bloom Mrs. Van Dyke. — Send me
a postal {postal as an abbreviation of postal card is condemned; the English
use post card}. — I have been to the last degree hypped since I saw you. -
He made a tidy spec in Lake Shore. — Did you see the co-eds in the library
yesterday afternoon? — May is par excellence the month of flowers; it is
delicious at this season to go streaming about the fields.

I 56 LITERARY STYLE.

Sugar was sky-rocketty again, and grain firmed in the afternoon. —
Smith is to be electrocuted on Monday. — They attempted to remain incog. —
They do business in cahoot. — The Hon. A. B. C. hors de com batted \.\\e Dem-
ocratic nominee for governor of the State of this fall. — The toilettes of les

jeunes dames were ravissantes. — At this instant there burst from the forest a
blood-curdling-pass-in-your-last-checks panther scream. — The subject of Dr.
Hammond's experiments is, we have no doubt, a professional syggignocist.
— He is the son of a well-known saloonist. — The mothers and children of
the east side are to be excursionized. ( Various Newspapers.}

The tenth of April, at St. Dunstans Burie, God letting not, I will not
fail the time {Old Play}. — He was detain'd with an unlookt for let {Har-
rington : let in the sense of hinder is still common in Fife, Scotland.) —
Lang leal, lang poor {Scottish Proverb}. — Come, Colin, dight your cheeks
{Ramsay}.

The Lord's Prayer contains but six Franco-Latin words ; can you
select them ? The instructor may suggest other passages to be studied
with reference to choice of words, none better than specimens of the
" gorgeous diction and prismatic style " of Jeremy Taylor, of Milton's
stately eloquence, or Swift's forceful simplicity. " In a language like
English," said Coleridge, " where so many words are derived from
other languages, there are few modes of instruction more useful or
more amusing than that of accustoming young people to seek for the
etymology or primary meaning of the words they use. There are
cases in which more knowledge of more value may be conveyed by the
history of a word than by the history of a campaign." And the cul-
ture of English diction is further " a means of attaining improved
habits of thought."

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Dr. Mackay's " The Lost Beauties of the English Language,"
HalliwelPs " Dictionary of Archaic Words," T. Whitcombe Greene's
" Old Words and Modern Meanings," Archbishop Trench's " A
Select Glossary of English Words used formerly in Senses Different
from their Present," Davies's " Bible English," Mayhew's " Select
Glossary of Bible Words and Prayer-Book Phrases."

As studies in pure English, read the poems of Wordsworth, in
which our language appears almost in its perfection ; as repositories of
what Mrs. Browning calls " lovely poet-words grown obsolete," our
early ballads or other Pre-Elizabethan verse.

VIOLATIONS OF DIGNITY AND ECONOMY. 157

LESSON XV.

WORDS THAT VIOLATE THE PRINCIPLES OF DIGNITY AND
ECONOMY.

The great law of 'culture is : Let each become all that he was created capable
of being ; expand, if possible, to his full growth ; resisting all impediments, casting
off all foreign, especially all noxious adhesions ; and show himself at length in his
own shape and stature, be these what they may. All genuine things are what they
ought to be. — CARLYLE.

The use of slang, or cheap generic terms, as a substitute for differentiated
specific expressions, is at once a sign and a cause of mental atrophy. — OLIVER
WENDELL HOLMES.

For choice and pith of language, Emerson belongs to a better age than ours.
His eye for a fine telling phrase that will carry true, is like that of a backwoodsman's
for a rifle ; and he will dredge you up a choice word from the mud of Cotton Mather
himself. — LOWELL.

Improper Words. — All colloquial, coarse, vulgar, and
affected expressions, offend against the principle of dignity
(see p. 39), and are rhetorically improper.

A Colloquialism is a word or phrase allowable in
familiar conversation, but not in dignified speech or writ-
ing. The common abbreviations, doesrit (does not), don 't
(do not), wasn't, won't (wall not, old form of will not},
isn't, aren't, haven't, hadn't;^ the verb to wire (in the
sense of to send a message by telegraph}, dry (meaning
thirsty}, pretty as an adverb (pretty much everybody) —
are colloquial.

A Vulgarism is a word or phrase used only in coarse
speech. Vulgarisms are thus always out of accord with

1 Ain't for am not, is not, are not ; hain't for have not; farsn't for
dare not ; and -warn 't for were not, — are vulgar contractions,

158 LITERARY STYLE.

polite usage ; still they are noticeably making themselves
at home in the drawing-room, the pulpit, and even in the
professorial chair. Intellect itself is bursting through the
restraints of propriety in speech as well as manners, and
stooping to the level of the common, the low, and even
the profane.

Vulgarisms comprise Affectations and Slang. Affec-
tation, branded by Carlyle as the bane of literature, is an
offensive striving after effect — an attempt to dazzle by
peculiar, out-of-the-way spelling and pronunciation, as well
as by the use of novel and grotesque words. It is
unnatural, untrue ; its essence being that it is assumed.
Its effect is only to fill the listener with disgust.

Sincerity, its opposite, — the principle of style which
comprehends the qualities of honesty, artlessness, and
courage, — is the crowning secret of finding and retaining
readers. To be one's own natural self is the truest wis-
dom. Simplicity is as much a mark of a great mind, as
was goodness, in the eye of Sophocles, of a great heart.
All artificiality, prettiness of expression, what is known
as "fine writing," a conscious air, a diction mottled with
terms borrowed from French newspaper and German
novel, or obscured with unintelligible phraseology sug-
gestive of a tour round the globe in eighty days, an
exaggerated broadening of the a sounds in imitation of
a supposed polite English use, — all argue a small mind.
"There is a fashion," said Dr. Donne (" Polydoron," 1632)
" in speaking and writing as in cloathes ; but it is easily
perceived where a foole overlaceth it."

As illustrations of affected spelling, Cnut and Knnt (for Canute},
kelt, Alfred, cheque (pedantic for check; originally an exchequer bill

VIOLATIONS OF DIGNITY AND ECONOMY. 159

or draft on the treasury ; now, a written order) , fotografy, sienografer,
catalog, suther n (southern), adjurn, may be specified.

Among affected deviations from orthoepy, and therefore gross vul-
garisms, are ong've-ldp for gn'vel-op, dng've-rong for en-vi'ronz,
acclimated for accli'mated, in'quiiy for inquiry, decor'ative for
decorative, id'yl for i'dyl, legis'lature for legislature, micfrobe for
mi'crobe, is'soo for ish'shu (issue), no'lej for nol'ej. (knowledge),
le"per for lep 'er, vahz and vaivz for vace (preferred in America) and
vaze (preferred in England), ft her and ni'lher, with the / long,
have been characterized by Richard Grant White not only as affecta-
tions, but as copies of second-rate British affectations, and have been
traced by Edward S. Gould and others to a cockney origin and a
minority usage in England. They have recently become a shibboleth
of American fashionable society; but they are incorrect pronuncia-
tions, without justification by analogy, by history, or by majority
usage in this country. Ei has not the sound of I in pure English
words, but usually of ee or of ay (as in receive, weird, eight, they}.
Sleight and height, apparently exceptions, were once written slythe and
slight, highte and hygthe. In connection with the pronunciation of
either and neither, it is interesting to note the old spellings. Neither
was spelled nawther (110 - whether) in Anglo-Saxon ; noitther, nother,
and nowther, in early English ; and nether, in Wyclifs Bible. It
could, therefore, never have been pronounced nl'ther by our remote
ancestors. So either passed through the forms O2gther, awther, other
(contracted or), eyther, aither, athir, ayther (the last four pronounced
ay' t her, sound of ei in their). Ayther, as some Irish-Americans pro-
nounce the word, was once universal, and of course polite.

Ignorance, rather than affectation, accounts for the majority of
errors in orthoepy; such as, bicy'cle for bi'se-kl, ecze'ma for eczema,
shef-fon - eer" for shi-fon'ia or shif-fon-eer" (chiffonnier, a case of
drawers), re' cess for recess', ro'mance for romance', A'ry-an for
Ar'yan, kct-rcnt/zal for kar'o-zel (carrousel, a merry-go-round),
en'ervate for enervate, and the offensive vulgarism zW-ol'o-gy.

Slang is the name which designates words and phrases
that originate in the coarse speech of the lower elements
of society, or, having acquired vulgar meanings, have been
abandoned by refined persons to the use of the vulgar. It

160 LITERARY STYLE.

may, or may not, involve grammatical inaccuracy. Cant
differs from slang in being the secret language of profes-
sional beggars and criminals.

Of all rhetorical failings, the omnipresent addictedness
to slang, so easily contracted and so difficult of cure, is the
most deplorable, because the most certain and fatal in its
results. It is the open gateway through which the masses
of our youth are passing to literary and conversational
incapacity ; it handcuffs that individuality which, we have
seen, marks every attractive style ; it dwarfs and starves
expression, and leaves to its victim a sorry vocabulary,
incapable of appareling exact ideas.

To commit one's thoughts to the keeping of slang is to clothe
them in shabby or tawdry misfits. Take the word get, which stands
for so many things that it has ceased to have precise meaning. We
get off and we get back ; we get out and over ; we get up, and down,
and square, and through; we get there and we have got to get there ;
we get out of a wagon and we get into a wagon ; we get a disease and we
get well; we get married and we get divorced; we get the train and
viz get left ; we have always £»/ (literally acquired} something, even if
it has been in the family a hundred years ; we get our pocket picked
and the thief gets caught ; we get a man and \i& gets even; and, finally,
we simply £?A The persistent use of such expressions, originally due
to laziness rather than ignorance, leads in time to forgetfulness of the
elegant equivalents.

The popular literature of the day swarms with easily recognized
slang words. Some of these have become vulgar from recent associa-
tions, like kick in the sense of object or resist, — used by Tennyson
in " The Princess," by Kingsley in " Westward Ho ! " (" Parsons still
kicked, but finally gave in," p. 245), and even in the Bible (Deut.
xxxii. 15), — now on the lips of every boor. For this reason it would
be in extremely bad taste for a girl of professed culture to explain her
absence from an afternoon reception on the ground that she " had a
bad cold, and her mother kicked.'1 Such indelicacies stamp a woman
" not only as commonplace, but common."

VIOLATIONS OF DIGNITY AND ECONOMY. l6l

A Fruitful Cause for the Prevalence of Slang among our
young people is to be found in their early environment.
The home is the place where correctness and elegance of
speech should be taught by daily models, where children
should be secluded from the force of bad example in these
respects as carefully as from what is vicious in morals.
Association with politely speaking parents and friends is
the ideal means of acquiring an unexceptionable diction.
But such association is permitted only in scattered cases.
Vulgar and illiterate servants too often form the child's
vocabulary ; and the pernicious example of the nursery
induces an inveterate habit of barbarism and slang, which
years in school and college may not eradicate.

The correction of the practice consists in the cultiva-
tion of a sensitive literary taste, which automatically
prompts to the expression of thought in simple, chaste,
refined English. " The proper prevention of vulgarity,"
said Dr. Latham, " is to be got from habit, not rules."

Precise Words. — Slang represents the extreme of
laxity in the use of language. Precision implies rigid
accuracy both in the thought and in its expression. The
precise writer knows what he intends to say, and says no
more and no less. Out of many words that might serve
his purpose, one only will do justice to his thought ; and
that inevitable word becomes the object of his search.
The gift of selecting the exact word for the thought, and
not one somewhat similar to it in meaning, is wholly
uncomprehended by writers who keep ready to hand a
stock of trite and hackneyed expressions.

Synonyms. — Precision is most frequently violated by
a lack of discrimination in the use of synonymous words.
One word is said to be a synonym of another when it is

QUACK. RHKT. — 11

1 62 LITERARY STYLE.

similar, not identical, in meaning ; for there are few, it
any, words in English that have exactly the same signifi-
cation. Synonyms express one principal idea, but always
with some diversity in the circumstances. Take, for in-
stance, the synonyms readable and legible. Both mean
capable of being read ; but the first applies to the interest
of the subject matter, and the second to the plainness of
the type or handwriting. We speak of a legible manu-
script and a readable story.

Synonyms have been compared to different tints of
the same color ; the artist in language selects those forms
whose delicate shades of sense heighten and finish the
literary picture. A word without precise meaning fails
to. fulfill its function as the sign of an idea, the primary
requisite of adaptation.

To illustrate the subject further, a few synonyms follow, denned
in contrast : —

Authentic, genuine. — Authentic means possessing authority ;
genuine, real or true, as opposed to spurious. A document is authen-
tic when it relates facts ; genuine, when it is the production of the
writer whose name it bears. A book may thus be authentic and not
genuine, or genuine and not authentic.

Between, among. — Between (be tweon, by twain or two) always
has reference to two persons or objects ; among (on getnang, in a
crowd), to three or more. A man is between friends with one on each
side of him ; among friends, when they surround him.

Bring, fetch. — To bring is to take to; to fetch is to go some dis-
tance and bring. A retriever is taught to fetch dead game.

Character, reputation. — A man's character is the sum of quali-
ties by which he is distinguished, — his acquisitions, capacities, ten-
dencies, moral condition, what he essentially is. His reputation is
the estimation in which he is held by others. He may be of bad char-
acter and fair reputation, or vice versa.

Discover, invent. — We discover what existed, but was not
known ; we invent, by combination, what is entirely new. Professor

VIOLATIONS OF DIGNITY AND ECONOMY. 163

Hall discovered the satellites of Mars; Arkwright invented the
cotton-spinning frame

Entire, complete, whole. — Entire is undivided, unmutilated,
unshared; complete is perfect in parts ; whole is lacking no part,
An author's entire works consist of all the volumes he ever published ;
but one of his works is complete, only when it has exhausted its sub-
ject. The head of a department assumes entire responsibility. One
may eat a whole orange divided into quarters or cells. In Othello,

" If Heaven would make me such another world
Of one entire and perfect (complete} chrysolite."

Enough, sufficient. — One has enough who does not desire
more ; sufficient, who does not need more. A miser may have suffi-
cient, but he never has enough.

Only, alone. — Only implies that there is no other of the same
kind; alone, that the person or object in question is unaccompanied
by any other. An only child is a child without brother or sister ; a
child alone is a child by itself. The statement, " Money which she
only, and she alone, has power to draw," precisely describes the case
of a capable sole executrix or trustee.

Ought, should. — Both imply obligation; ought is stronger.
"You should hear the lecture at the Lyceum this evening;1' but,
" We ought to speak the truth."

Pardon, forgive. — To pardon is to remit the consequences of a
crime ; to forgive, to dismiss resentment. A high-minded judge for-
gives the criminal whom he cannot officially pardon.

Vacant, empty. — Vacant means unoccupied; empty, without con-
tents. A room or office may be vacant ; but it is a physical impossi-
bility for thieves to strip an empty house of all its furniture.

With, by. — By denotes the agent; with, the instrument. " The
bandit was shot by one of the soldiers with a carbine."

The student may further discriminate between the synonyms in
each of the following pairs : ability and capacity, accept and receive,
allude and refer, amateur and novice, answer and reply, aware and
conscious, boyish and puerile, bury and inter, custom and habit, dif-
f cutty and obstacle, distinguish and discriminate, doubt and question,
neal and cure, intention and purpose, proposition and proposal, reason
and cause, revenge and vengeance, ro^m and apartment, translucent
and transparent, sewage and sewerage, apparent (antonym, real} and

164 LITERARY STYLE.

obvious (antonym, obscure}, in and info (after one has stepped into a
carriage, he is in the carriage), episode and incident, sin and crime,
reticent (keeping silent) and reserved (keeping back), invite (wed-
dings and receptions) and request attendance (funerals), continuous
(uninterrupted continuity) and continual (broken succession) ; droop,
wilt, wither j bravery, courage, fortitude; hurry and haste ; polite-
ness and kindness ("politeness is kindness kindly expressed").

Redundant and Tautological Words violate the principle
of economy. A precise writer not only uses every word
in a definite sense, but unsparingly cuts away (prcecidere]
all unnecessary words, — redundancies (general superflui-
ties), tautologies (useless repetitions), expletives (words
necessary neither to the sense nor to the construction,
but added merely to fill space), asseverations (intemperate
language), and unmeaning epithets. Such " barren verbi-
age " is always a mark of an inferior composer with vague
conceptions of what he wishes to communicate ; the tire-
some writer who " travels round an idea " without -reach-
ing a conclusion, or paralyzes his reader's attention with
repetitions that contribute neither to clearness nor em-
phasis. "The gifted man," said Carlyle, " is he who sees
the essential point, and leaves all the rest aside as
surplusage."

The enfeebling effect of the faults just explained is illustrated in
the subjoined extracts: The sentences, — " They did it successively
one after the other," — " He then made his statement, and related his
story," — are tautological, in that they repeat the same sense in differ-
ent words. The verse, — " But of the tree of the knowledge of good
and evil, thou shalt not eat of it : for in the day that thou eatest
thereof thou shalt surely die," an incorrect rendering of God's declara-
tion to Adam, — contains the redundant words of it, and the assevera-
tion surely, intended by the translator to make the divine denunciation
doubly strong and solemn. There is but a step from this to such
expressions as, " Upon my soul," " Til stake my life," and oaths of

VIOLATIONS OF DIGNITY AND ECONOMY. 1 65

various kinds, which have the effect of casting suspicion on the
speaker's truthfulness.

Among common expletives are : The adverb there used at the
beginning of a sentence as an indefinite subject, sometimes contribut-
ing to energy, oftener diminishing it; the qualifier very, abused to
such an extent that its presence now suggests a need of bolstering;
and the palliative as it were, a favorite padding with writers whose
object is inflation. " There is nothing which disgusts us sooner than
the empty pomp of language," can be improved by pruning; thus,
"Nothing disgusts us sooner," etc. This expletive form, as well as
the impersonal // is, is allowable only as an introduction to some
important proposition. The employment of either resembles pointing
with the finger at an object to which we wish to call attention.

The too frequent use of the conjunction and (called polysyn'deton,
the Greek for tied together in many ways} is to be avoided, except in
enumerations where it is desired to give the mind addressed sufficient
time to form the images suggested by each individual word. By multi-
plying the copulatives, Thomson enforces deliberate attention to each
object named in the following lines from the " Seasons :"-

" Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around,
Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,
And glittering towers, and gilded streams! "

Epithets. — A true epithet adds to (as the Greek roots
imply), or enriches. In prose style, it must be necessary
to the meaning ; in poetry, it may merely contribute to
the picturesque effect. A single apt word will sometimes
convey an idea with greater definition and intensity than a
page of descriptive details ; hence the human mind instinc-
tively turns to the device of epithet for impression on the
imagination. Whoever has seen the river issue from the
Lake of Geneva, knows the concentrated force of Byron's
"blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone." With equal ease
and pleasure, the imagination turns into substance Emer-
son's " tumultuous privacy of the snowstorm ; " Thomson's
"quivered savage," and "growling pack [of hounds] blood-

1 66 UTERARY STYLE.

happy;1' Adlington's "rope-ripe boy" (boy ready to be
hanged) ; Pope's " unbending corn " (beneath the flying
feet of Camilla).

But not all epithets are thus economical and vigorous. The un-
trained taste of young writers too often approves such qualifiers as
elegant, shocking, most extraordinary, bewitching, perfectly lovely,
etc., showy cloaks for empty thoughts. Beginners must shun the
"aniline style," with its glaring modifiers, and rather select nouns
that mean something in themselves, never jeoparding their strength
or beauty by adjective incumbrances. Mrs. Browning wrote in her
" Book of the Poets : " " We say of Corneille, the noble ; of Racine,
the tender ; of ^Eschylus, the terrible ; of Sophocles, the perfect ; but
not one of these words, not one appropriately descriptive epithet, can
we attach to Shakespeare without a conscious recoil. Shakespeare !
the name is the description."

The addition of any epithet would be an incumbrance here ; still,
a high degree of excellence in writing cannot be attained without the
use of happy qualifiers that add warmth, color, and feeling, to style,
and thus in sympathetic readers give rise to the aesthetic thrill.

Circumlocution, literally the roundabout mode of expres-
sion, in contradistinction to the plain way of saying things,
deals largely in the superfluous. It always means lost
time ; and when it consists in the affected substitution of
a descriptive clause or an epitome of attributes for a well-
known name, it may give rise to exasperating confusion.
Thus Milton, in a sonnet : —

"That dishonest victory
At Chseronea, fatal to liberty,
Killed with report that Old Man Eloquent."

The average reader, without means of investigation at
hand, must remain uninformed as to the identity of the
Old Man Eloquent with the orator Isocrates.

VIOLATIONS OF DIGNITY AND ECONOMY. l6/

Similarly evasive are the allusions to Washington as the Cincin-
natus of the Americans ; to Dr. Johnson as the Giant of Literature ;
and to the Cumaean sibyl as the Amphrysian prophetess (from Am-
phrysus, Apollo's river in Thessaly).

QUESTIONS.

What fall under the head of improper words ? Give the definition
of a colloquialism. Mention certain contractions that are colloquial ;
others that are vulgar. Define a vulgarism. Are vulgarisms confined
to the illiterate? Where are they intruding? What is affectation?
Is it easier to be affected in the Saxon or in the Franco-Latin element
of English ? Of what is simplicity an exponent? Mention some
prevalent forms of affectation. What do they indicate ? Illustrate
affected spelling; affected pronunciation. How do you pronounce
e-i-t-h-e-r? Why? How should the word be pronounced by analogy?
by majority usage in America? Can you give some old methods of
spelling either and neither? .

Define slang. Does it necessarily imply violation of grammatical
rules? Was Professor Whitney justified in regarding slang as "the
besetting sin of Americans"? To what does the habit of slang lead ?
Suggest a cause for its prevalence among young people. Explain the
force of Christina Rosettes remark, "Neither nursery nor schoolroom
secluded their children from my parents.1' Illustrate words that have
fallen from a refined to a vulgar level ; the slang uses of the verb to
get, and its parts.

Illustrate different shades of meaning in synonymous words.
Why are synonyms numerous in English? Can you think of a reason
why, of two words identical in meaning, one would naturally become
obsolete ? (Survival of the fittest.) What, in your opinion, is the true
source of a loose style? Explain and illustrate the difference between
authentic and genuine, bring and fetch, between and among, character
and reputation, discover and invent, entire and complete, enough and
sufficient, only and alone, -vacant and empty. Why does an accurate
habit of language beget a corresponding habit, of thought? Why does
" the profanation of words lead to the contempt of things"?

Redundancy literally means an overflow ; describe and illustrate
the fault. Tautology is of Greek origin, and signifies speaking the
same thing; illustrate it. Expletive, from the Latin, is serving to fill
out; show the enfeebling effect of expletives. What is the etymology

1 68 LITERARY STYLE.

of polysyndeton ? its value ? Define epithet. Show that a well-chosen
epithet is economical ; that it designates as well as qualifies. Illustrate
enervating epithets. What kind of substantives are you recommended
to select? To what extent are they to be embarrassed with adjectives?
Is it true that the evolution of a good writer is "always marked
by a gradual diminution in the number of his qualifiers"? Is it pos-
sible to write without adjectives, and attain high excellence ? What
properties do happily chosen epithets add? (Swinburne employs
adjectives in dangerous profusion ; consult his critical essays.) State
your opinion of the art of omission as a secret of rhetorical power.
Define and illustrate circumlocution.

EXERCISE.

In the following sentences, point out and characterize offenses
against the principles of dignity and economy, suggesting corrections.
When synonyms are presented within brackets, select the proper
one : —

In his estimate of men, Wordsworth set no store by rank or station
{Shairp}. — Integrity is much the plainer and easier, much the safer and
more secure, way of dealing with the world ; it has less of trouble and diffi-
culty, of entanglement and perplexity, of danger and hazard, in it. The arts
of deceit and cunning do continually grow weaker, and less effectual and ser-
viceable to them that use them ( Tillotson}. — While Meg's in dumps ( Gentle
Shepherd'). — He is so plaguy proud ( Troilus}. — This is terrible good coun-
sel (Duchess of Malfy}. — You can't bamboozle me {Modern Gypsy'}. — It
was to this town that crowds of Protestants retired, and prepared to give a
warm reception to the Catholic army which soon arrived in front of the
Maiden City ( Chambers 's Miscellany : the reader is left to infer from the
context that Londonderry is the city referred to). — Remember that Pelican
conqueror {Milton}. — I trembled a few {Miss Burney}. — Give us a rest on
your impressions {Journalist). — Tacitus tells a fine story finely, but he can-
not tell a plain story plainly. He stimulates till stimulants lose their power
{Macaulay}. — These unintelligible Americanisms stew me into a beastly funk
{English Visitor}. — I should like to alter the verbiage of my resolution
{College Professor to Secretary}. — He also shoveled sixty-two new peers into
the House of Lords, and there was a pretty large sprinkling of Scotchmen
among them, you may believe {Dickens}. — The original sentence would be,
"Nero interfecit Agrippinam." That convenient final m does Agrippina's
business ( Wendell's English Composition}.

I [calculate (New-England farmer), reckon (Southerner), guess (New

VIOLATIONS OF DIGNITY AND ECONOMY. 169

Yorker), fancy (Englishman)] it is going to rain. (The student may dis-
criminate, and supply the correct verb.) — Dancing attendance, — Currying
favor, — A likely boy, — Considerable of a fellow, — Assist to potatoes, — Come
up to the scratch, — Shaky on a doctrine, — Smelling out other men's designs,
— Administer a blow, — In a bad fix, — Give one the blues, — To have a great
mind, — Afraid it will snow, — To get the upper hand, — Tonsorial parlors, —
Saffron scourge (yellow fever), — Madly whirled along in a palace car, —
Bureau of Pomona (apple stand), — Big. splurge, — Face the music, — Back
a man up. — The wildest, the roughest, the crudest offspring of literary im-
pulse, working blindly on the passionate elements of excitable ignorance,
was never more formless, more incoherent, more defective in the structure,
than this voluminous abortion of deliberate intelligence and conscientious
culture [Swinburne, of Cynthia's Revels).

Our first day in the woods was spent in slicking up round camp, and
burning culch. — Let us pass from the Stagyrite to the philosopher of
Malmesbury (who were they?). — Jones's position in the Department of Pub-
lic Works was a sinecure, with no duty attached to it. — As soon as you have
heard [enough, sufficient] music, we will adjourn (?) to the library. — Dr.
Simpson enjoined temperance and abstinence on his patient. — When we
heard what was proposed by the opposite party, all our friends exclaimed
loudly against the proposition, and declared that the last argument [only,
alone] was [sufficient, enough] to show the weakness of their cause. — I
have [almost, nearly] finished writing my letters. — Almost killed, nearly
killed (discriminate). — The two rivals [almost, nearly] met each other, for
the one had not left the house five minutes before the o»her arrived. — We
[acknowledge, admit, own, avow, confess] an omission of duty ; an error ;
a fact ; a fault ; a crime ; our folly ; our belief. — The death of our vice-
president has left a [vacant, empty] seat in the Board. — His equanimity of
mind was marvelous. — Both simultaneously made their appearance at one
and the same time. — Shakespeare was a man of profound genius, and whose
bold thoughts must be admired in every age. — Brutus [forgave, pardoned]
but could not [pardon, forgive] his sons. — Wanted, a situation by a young
girl as very competent cook ; also understands waiting at table in a very
efficient manner ; in all respects, very first class.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Richard Grant White's "Words and Their Uses,1' Edward S.
Gould's " Good English," Dr. Hodgson's " Errors in the Use of
English." As aids to the student in his search for the exacl word,
Roget's " Thesaurus of English Words," Crabb's " Dictionary of Eng-
lish Synonyms," Soule's " A Dictionary of English Synonyms."

I/O LITERARY STYLE.

LESSON XVI.

WORDS THAT VIOLATE THE PRINCIPLES OF ORDER, ENERGY,
MELODY, AND VARIETY. — AMERICANISMS.

Style has two separate functions : first, to brighten the intelligibility of a sub-
ject which is obscure to the understanding ; secondly, to regenerate the normal fower
and impressiveness of a subject which has become dormant to the sensibilities. — DE
QUINCEY.

When the garb of an idea, by dint of transparency and purity, lets nothing but
the idea appear, precise, animated, attractive ; when expressions, instead of arrest-
ing the gaze like brilliant asperities, unresistingly allow themselves to be penetrated
like a luminous medium ; when it is only by reflection we return to appreciate the
details separately, — we may be sure that we have been reading a well-written book.
— VINET.

The sincerity and marrow of the man reaches to his sentences. His words are
vascular and alive ; cut them, and they would bleed. — EMERSON, Of Montaigne.

Clear Words. — It is not enough that our words should
be pure, proper, and precise ; should correctly and chastely
express exactly what we mean, — they must further convey
our thoughts in a manner that is intelligible to the hearer
or reader, that is capable of awakening feeling and resolve,
and of charming the ear with a proper alternation of long
and short, of emphatic and unemphatic syllables. They
must be clear, energetic, and melodious.

Clearness, or Perspicuity, implies transparency of style,
the quality of being easily seen through — the quality
which Quintilian observed " takes care, not that the
learner may understand if he will, but that he must
understand, whether he will or not." It is the intellectual
element, and depends on clear, direct thinking. A mind
full of clear images is seldom at a loss to communicate
them clearly to others ; whereas muddy thought can but

VIOLATIONS OF ORDER. 171

project itself in muddy words. The perspicuous manner
is aptly pictured in Benjamin J. Wallace's description of
Professor Reed's style : " It is like the Susquehanna in
early summer, a perfectly transparent medium. As you
glide over it, you see every fish in the stream, every blade
of the long grass that floats with the gentle ripples, and
every white and rounded pebble beneath you." Of all the
qualities of style, perspicuity, which to a certain extent
implies grammatical accuracy and precision, is indisputably
first in importance.

Offenses against Perspicuity. — There are two distinct
lines of violation here. Words and constructions that con-
vey no meaning, and words and constructions that convey
more than one meaning, offend alike against clearness.
We are at present concerned only with the individual
expressions. Perspicuous words convey a single sense,
and convey it clearly. Such words conform to the prin-
ciple of Order.

Obscure Words. — Words that convey no meaning are
said to be obscure (covered over]. Unless intentionally
employed, they are evidence of confused, disorderly, or
half-done thinking.

Technical Terms are intentional ; but, being unintelli-
gible to the average reader, they are rhetorically obscure.
To describe the mullein as "a biennial having oblong,
crenate-serrate leaves, flowers pedicellate, in an elongated
simple or compound raceme ; the rachis and pedicels glan-
dularly pubescent ; segments of the calyx linear-lanceolate ;
corolla yellow, or white with a tinge of purple," - - would be
accurate and economical ; but, inasmuch as such phrase-
ology is meaningless to persons not versed in botany,
there is really a waste of material. It is a case of the

172 LITERARY STYLE.

stork bidding the fox to a feast from the long-necked
aiguiere.

Improper Ellipsis. — Obscurity may result from defi-
ciency, as does redundancy from excess, of material. The
writer may employ too few words. Steele's statement,
"You ought to contemn all the wit in the world against
you," is hardly intelligible until the words, that can be
employed, are supplied after world. The student may
further note the omissions in the following sentence from
Thackeray : " Harry eyed her with such a rapture as the
first lover is described as having by Milton."

The Use of the Same Word in Different Senses in the
Same Connection is a common source of obscurity. In the
sentence, " Other men may give more, but they cannot
give more evident signs,"- — more is first used as an adjec-
tive, and immediately afterward as an adverb, the sign of
the comparative degree. The principle of order requires
that a word, when repeated, be used in its first rigidly
defined sense. Confusion most frequently results from
carelessly allowing the same pronoun to stand for dif-
ferent nouns ; and the everyday offender is the pronoun
it. " When," said the grammarian Cobbett, " I see many
its on a page, I always tremble for the writer. Never put
an it upon paper without thinking well of what you are
about." The pronoun in question has four faces in this
extract : " // would take years before the public could dis-
cover such corruption, and it is more than likely that,?/
would not discover it until it is past cure."

The references of pronouns may be still more uncertain, as in the
following from Bolingbroke : " The laws of Nature are truly what my
lord Bacon styles his aphorisms, laws of laws. Civil laws are always
imperfect, and often false deductions from them, or applications of

VIOLATIONS OF ORDER. 173

them; nay, they stand in many instances in direct opposition to
them." The reader is obliged to look back and disentangle the double
reference, before arriving at the true sense ; viz., " Civil laws are often
false deductions from these natural laws, to which, in many instances,
they stand in direct opposition."

The use of the demonstrative this with an uncertain antecedent,
or referring vaguely to something that has form in the writer's mind,
but has nowhere been precisely expressed, involves obscurity. The
fault is exemplified in this extract from Addison's " Spectator: " " A
man should endeavor to make the sphere of his innocent pleasures as
wide as possible, that he may retire into them with safety, and find in
them such a satisfaction as a wise man would not blush to take. Of
this nature are those of the imagination." The second sentence is
loose in its beginning, as the first does not describe the nature of any
kind of pleasures. The obscurity disappears by changing thus, " This
advantage we enjoy by means of the pleasures of the imagination."
An antecedent must always be plainly in sight.

Equivocal Words are words susceptible of more than
one interpretation. Univocal (one-voiced} words are words
that mean one thing, and only one thing. Few English
words are univocal. Words that are spelled and pro-
nounced alike, but whose origins and significations are
different, are known as homonyms. Such are page (from
pagius, a servant, and pagina, a writing), — story (contrac-
tion of old French estor/e, a building, and from the Greek
historein, to narrate), — date (the finger fruit, dactilns and
data), — last (Anglo-Saxon test, a footprint, and latst, hind-
most), — sound (Scandinavian sund, a strait ; to measure
the depth of, Latin subundare to submerge ; Latin sonus,
tone ; Anglo-Saxon, gesund, healthy),— cock (the male fowl,
from the Greek imitation of the cry of the bird, kokku ; a
cock of hay, the Scandinavian kok, a heap ; in cocked hat,
of Gaelic origin ; in cock of a gun, from the Italian cocca,
a notch ; in cockswain, from cock, a small boat, through the
French coque, and remotely the Latin concha, a shell).

1/4 LITERARY STYLE.

The words of all tongues are more or less equivocal. Students of
ancient and modern languages experience difficulty in selecting from
the vocabulary the proper meaning of a Greek, Latin, or French word,
Foreigners have equal trouble with our English, and sometimes make
ludicrous errors. A shoemaker of Cannes puzzled English tourists
with the announcement, " Repairs hung with stagecoach.11 Trans-
lated into intelligible equivalents, his sign implied that repairs were
executed with diligence. Modern Chinese is particularly rich in equiv-
ocals, many of the monosyllables having a great variety of meanings,
like tschoo, which signifies an ape, a whirlpool, an island, a silk, a
wine, a kind of plant, a female ass, deep, to inclose, to help, to quar-
rel, to walk, to answer.

The Use of a Term essentially Equivocal is not Repre-
hensible so long as its connection with other words in any
particular case distinctly indicates which of its significa-
tions, as there used, it bears. The context will generally
determine the meaning so clearly that the true sense will
be the only one suggested. When, by way of illustration,
the author of " Esmond " writes, " Show the red stock-
ings, Trix. They've silver clocks," - — there will be no lack
of perspicuity ; for the idea of ankle figures, and not of
timepieces, will immediately present itself to the mind.

Sometimes, however, the connection is insufficient to
determine the meaning, and the word is susceptible of a
twofold interpretation. In the sentence, " I cannot find
one of my brushes," one is equivocal, as it may mean
anyone or one singled out and considered apart from the
others. " He aimed at nothing less than the Presidency"
means, either that notliing was less the object of his aim, or
nothing inferior to the Presidency was aimed at. The love
of a. parent is either filial or parental love. In the typical
sentence, " The farmer came and told his neighbor his
pigeons were in his oat field," four possibilities are ex-

VIOLATIONS OF ENERGY. 175

pressed ; viz., that the farmer's pigeons are in his own field,
that they are in his neighbor's field, that the neighbor's
pigeons are in the farmer's field, that the neighbor's
pigeons are in the neighbor's field. Grammatically, the
possessives all refer to the subject, farmer.

Many, with Macaulay, prefer a repetition of the noun to an obscure
or equivocal reference by a pronoun. The clearness of the meaning
in the following verse of Genesis xliv. depends on such repetition :
" The lad cannot leave his father : for if he should leave his father, his
father would die." This is made equivocal by substituting pronouns
— "if he should leave him, he would die." Who would die, the lad
or the father?

Energetic Words are words that cause the mind ad-
dressed not only to understand, but also to feel, the
meaning of the speaker or writer. Energy in general is
capacity for work or effect. In rhetoric, the work to be
accomplished is deep and strong impression ; and the
words adapted to this purpose are born of honest, direct,
concentrated thought, the thought that "knows its fact
and hugs its fact." Levity, superficiality, haste, lack of
interest, are all antagonistic to energy.

Words that are plain and bold, but neither blunt nor
coarse ; words that are particular and not general, incisive,
clean-cut, " stript from their shirts " like man-of-war's
men prepared for action, — are the true exponents of an
energetic style. Economy further demands the smallest
number of syllables consistent with precision and clear-
ness. Hence the force of our short Saxon words, which
so present ideas that they may be apprehended with the
least possible mental effort.

Big words are too often a shallow disguise for small thoughts.
The French song writer, B6ranger, aptly likens them to a tinseled

1/6 LITERARY STYLE.

drum major on a dress parade, while simple, home-bred words find
their counterpart in the little gray-coated Napoleon at Austerlitz.
The good wine of a noble thought needs no bush of high-flown rhet-
oric. In fact, "the nerve, pulse, sinew, of a hearty, healthy English,"
are Saxon words, short and unpretentious, common, plain, and homely,
but nervous, pointed, sententious, and capable withal of being wrought
into smooth, harmonious diction, as Dr. Addison Alexander's one-
syllabled sonnets prove by their own sweet flow : —

"Think not that strength lies in the big, round word,

Or that the brief and plain must needs be weak.
To whom can this be true who once has heard

The cry for help, the tongue that all men speak,
When want, or woe, or fear is in the throat,

So that each word gasped out is like a shriek
Pressed from the sore heart, or a strange wild note

Sung by some fay or fiend? There is a strength
Which dies if stretched too far or spun too fine,

Which has more height than breadth, more depth than length.
Let but this force of thought and speech be mine,

And he that will may take the sleek, fat phrase,
Which glows and burns not, though it gleam and shine —

Light, but not heat — a flash, but not a blaze !

" Nor is it mere strength that the short word boasts:

It serves of more than storm or fight to tell;
The roar of waves that clash on rock-bound coasts,

The crash of tall trees when the wild winds swell,
The roar of guns, the groans of men that die

On blood stained fields. It has a voice as well
For them that far off on their sick beds lie ;

For them that weep, for them that mourn the dead ;
For them that laugh and dance, and clap the hand ;

To joy's quick step, as well as grief's slow tread,
The sweet plain words we learnt at first keep time,

And though the theme' be sad, or gay, or grand,
With each, with all, these may be made to chime,

In thought, or speech, or song, in. prose or rhyme."

Force implies Tendency to Acceleration. Hence sur-
plusage is as fatal to energy as it is to precision, for it

VIOLATIONS OF ENERGY. 1/7

impedes the onward rush of thought to the essential point.
Asyn'deton (the omission of the conjunction) removes
annoying obstacles from the direct avenues to conclusions ;
as in Sobieski's announcement to the Pope of his victory
over the Turks at Vienna : " I came, I saw, God con-
quered ! " Bjevity is forceful. " If there is a man on
earth," said Joubert, " tormented by the desire to get a
whole book into a page, a whole page into a phrase, and
this phrase into one word, — that man is myself."1 In
contrast to such desire for concentration of energy is the
prevailing American tendency to dilution.

Longinus classed the naked statement of Moses — " God said, Let
light be, and light was " — among the sublimest words uttered by man.
"Spartans, Stoics, heroes, saints, and gods, use such short and posi-
tive speech." But dilute the thought, — " The sovereign Arbiter of
the universe, by the potency of a single expression, commanded ra-
diant energy to exist, and immediately it sprung into being," — and the
sound is magnified ; but the sentiment is degraded and the grandeur
gone. Cowley, regarding Anacreon's ton d^helion selene as the rubber
envelope of a balloon, took the liberty of inflating it as follows : —

"The moon and stars drink up the sun,
They drink and dance by their own light,
They drink and revel all the night,
Nothing in Nature's sober found,
But an eternal health goes round."

Of the last four lines, not a scintilla is traceable in the original. Such
superfluous words have no capacity for doing work.

Concrete or Specific Words convey the intended sense
at once, and convey it with trenchancy ; hence they are

1 The Chinese philosopher Confucius embodied in one word, expressed
in writing by a single ideogram, the sum and substance of duty. This word
translated into English becomes, " What you do not like when done to
yourself, do not to others."

QUACK. RHBT. — 12

178 LITERARY STYLE.

both economical and energetic. The more general the
terms, the fainter will be the picture.

Herbert Spencer explains the force of concrete terms by showing
that men do not think in generals, but in particulars. "When a
class is referred to, we represent it to ourselves by calling to mind in-
dividual members of it (at mention of horse, for instance, we picture
certain familiar horses). Hence it follows that when an abstract word
is used, the reader has to choose from his stock of images one or more
by which he may figure to himself the class mentioned. In so doing,
delay must arise, and force be expended. If, therefore, by employing
a specific term, an appropriate image can be at once flashed into the
mind, economy is achieved, and a more vivid impression produced."
Generalities like the following are lacking in energy: " In proportion
as the manners, customs, and amusements of a nation, are cruel and
barbarous, the regulations of their penal code will be severe." The
substitution of specific words heightens the effect: " In proportion as
men delight in battles, bullfights, and combats of gladiators, they will
punish by hanging, burning, and the rack."

So Stesich'orus admonished the Locrians, bent on war, not to pre-
cipitate hostilities, " for fear that in the end the grasshoppers may be
forced to chirp on the bare ground," — a much more desolate picture
than that suggested by mere ravaged fields.

The Only Appropriate Occasion for General Language

is, under the rule of harmony, when vivid impression is
out of accord with dignity and morality. So are always
the details of crimes and executions.

Melodious Words are words of agreeable sound. Short
words, as has just been shown, are not necessarily unme-
lodious, either as individuals or in combinations marked by
a proper distribution of emphasis. Even harsh words,
when adapted to the subject, express the meaning more
forcibly than any others, harmony requiring that every
sound shall be attuned to the sense (see p. 221). Me-
lodious words are therefore the appropriate instruments

AMERICANISMS. 1 79

for the communication of pleasing ideas, — words in which
there is a euphonious intermixture of consonants and
vowels, — not so many of the former as to impede freedom
of utterance (like strifcst, rushedst], or of the latter as to
occasion insipidity (meteorologically).

Tautoph'ony. — Melody is deficient in combinations
where the same sound is repeated. This fault is known
as tautophony, and is perceptible in words like ho lily ; in
combinations like brief fashion, " He went on in an unen-
durable strain," " It is only comparative/j/ recent/*/ that it
was apprehended ; " and in members of sentences that
close with the same sound. The detection of tautophony
is insured by reading over literary work aloud.

Americanisms. — Before dismissing the consideration
of words, it will be profitable for the student to investi-
gate briefly the subject of Americanisms, — forms origi-
nated in the United States, or peculiar thereto. Such
words may be divided into three classes : —

I. Words born on American Soil. — These include a
generous quota from the Indian languages (maize, potato,
chocolate, squash, tomato, tobacco, hominy, hickory, catalpa,
opossum, raccoon, moose, caribou, porgy, muskellunge, men-
haden, and hosts of geographical names). But new
words entirely disconnected with Indian parentage have
sprung up in this country. Such are caucus (universally
explained as a corruption of calk-house, or calker's house,
where the ship calkers' club met at Boston in Revolution-
ary times) ; gerrymander (g hard) (from the name of Gov-
ernor Gerry of Massachusetts, who in 1811 signed a bill
readjusting the representative districts with a view to
defeating the Federalists) ; stoop, equivalent to porch,
adopted from Dutch settlers ; blizzard ; bogus (corruption

ISO LITERARY STYLE.

of the name of a notorious swindler ; according to Lowell,
of bagasse, sugar-cane refuse) ; scalper, one who sells rail-
road tickets at less than regular rates ; and many others.

II. Old English Words with Meanings acquired in
America. — Thus, a section of territory, in the United
States, is a square mile ; a block is a piece of land inclosed
by four streets ; clever, which in England generally means
intelligent, here signifies good-natured ; fix (to fasten) is
used in America in the sense of to repair. The slang
expression in a fix is thus in a fasten.

III. Words preserved in America that have become
Obsolete or Provincial in the Mother Country. — Fall in
the sense of autumn (familiar to Elizabethan usage)
appears to survive as a provincialism in parts of England.
Mad with the meaning of angry, denounced abroad as an
Americanism when Irving used it, is found in the " Merie
Tales of Skelton," where it is told how angry the Bishop
of Norwich was at the rector's irregularities, and " Skelton
sayde, Shal I come agayne to speake with a madde man ? "
So in Chapman's "Homer" (1596) we have, "All that
pleased Hector made him [Ajax] mad." Boodle occurs
as early as 1625, is used by Macaulay, and was merely
revived in 1886 to describe a corrupt board of aldermen.
Right in the sense of very, a provincialism of the South
and East, is as old as the English language, Mandeville
(1356) having right nigh; and Chaucer, right here, right
fat, etc.

So, many an expression characterized as an Americanism, lies
buried in Elizabethan and Pre-Elizabethan authors ; as, the woods of
"The Shepheard's Calendar" and Marlowe's "Milkmaid's Song;"
cultured, regarded as " a product of Boston " by the author of " The
Verbalist," yet hardly imported from the American city by Shenstone

CRITICISM. l8l

(1743) and Goldsmith (1764) ; Sidney's my better half; the Shake-
spearean so-so, too thin, and anything like ; Chaucer's Ai, not worth a
bean, murder will out, and cause why ; Ben Jonson's bag and baggage
and scot free. Thanks and I guess meet us in many places from 1400
to 1600; while the too-too of the modern aesthete is but the revival of
a common reduplication meaning exceedingly.

QUESTIONS.

What besides correct, chaste, and exact expression, is necessary
to effective discourse ? Explain what clearness implies. How did
Quintilian describe it? Why is it known as the intellectual element
of style? Give the substance of Benjamin J. Wallace's description of a
clear style ; of Vinet's. In what two ways may clearness be violated?
Define obscure words. Is Macaulay right in coupling obscurity and
affectation as the two greatest faults of style ? State objections to the
use of technical language. Illustrate improper ellipsis. Show how
the use of the same word in different senses obscures. What caution
is to be observed in the use of the pronoun it f of the demonstrative
this f

Define equivocal words. Uni vocal words. Show how page,
story, date, last, mint, sound, cock, are homonyms and equivocals.
When only is the use of equivocal terms reprehensible? Show how
the context generally clears the meaning.. Give further illustrations of
equivocation.

What are energetic words? Define their purpose. State the
effect of pompous language ; of plain Saxon monosyllables. What
tendency does force imply? What, then, is the effect of surplusage
on energy? Illustrate your answer. Why do specific words convey
the intended sense at once? Emerson calls Montaigne's words "a
shower of bullets ; " can you infer from this what kind of words the
essayist used? When only is general language appropriate?

How is the principle of harmony subserved by the choice of melo-
dious words? To what kind of ideas are they adapted? Illustrate
words lacking in euphony. Describe and illustrate tautophony. How
far, in your opinion, is tenable the theory of Coleridge, that every
musically worded sentence contains something deep and good in its
meaning? Into what classes may Americanisms be divided? Illus-
trate fully each class. Can you ascertain the English equivalents for

l82 LITERARY STYLE.

the following American words, — baggage, depot, ticket office, car
conductor, baggage car, switch, cracker, baby carriage, elevator,
parlor, preserves, sick, ill-natured, pitcher, tidy, candy, express ?

EXERCISE.

Explain any instances of obscurity or equivocation you may find
in the following sentences ; any lack of energy or melody ; any
Americanisms or Anglicisms ; suggest improvements : —

They were summoned occasionally by their kings when compelled by
their wants or their fears to have recourse to their aid. — She found the most
and the most luscious berries of anyone of the party. — You tell Delia this
because you will see her before me. — They were both more ancient than
Menes or Misraim [either Menes or Misraim, Menes otherwise called Mis-
raim]. — I will have [exercise or require] mercy, and not sacrifice. — Who
would not think it ridiculous to see a lady at a bridal in a cassock of mock-
ado? — Begoniacese, by their anthero-connectival fabric, indicate a close
relationship with anonaceo-hydrocharideo-nymphseoid forms. — He told his
coachman he would be the death of him if he did not take care what he was
about. — This action increased his former services. — The rules of emphasis
come in, in interruption of your supposed general law of position.

The student may designate the different senses attaching to the
word that in the following lines : —

" Now THAT is a word which may often be joined,
For THAT THAT may be doubled is clear to the mind ;
And THAT THAT THAT is right is as plain to the view
As THAT THAT THAT THAT we use is rightly used too ;
And THAT THAT THAT THAT THAT line has, is right —
In accordance with grammar, is plain in our sight."

The Chinese question has been agitating America for many years ; and
though for the present it has reached a settlement, it is very doubtful whether
it will be a permanent one {College Essay}.— If the baby does not thrive
jn fresh milk, it should be boiled ( Canadian Paper"). — For sale, a fox
terrier, two years old, thoroughly house-broken, will eat anything, very fond
of children (Advertisement}. — How many there are by whom these tidings
of good news were never heard (Bolingbroke). — Rhetoric is the art of tell-
ing some one else by words precisely what you mean to say. A definition
in such colloquial language may seem so obvious as to be almost unneces-

CRITICISM. 183

sary. ( Carpenter 'j Exercises in Rhetoric. Does the author mean, as to make
further explanations wwnecessary ?) He forgave His enemies all their
ill-will towards Him and all their vile and malicious usage of Him: most
remarkably at His death, when the provocations were greater and most vio-
lent, when they fell thick and in storms upon Him, and when they were
more grievous and pressing in the agony and anguish of His suffering. In
these hard and pressing circumstances He was so far from breathing out
threatening and revenge that He did declare His free forgiveness of them
a nd perfect charity towards them ( Tillotson : correct the polysyndeton, and
eliminate the tautologies).

Mary asked her cousin to bring her hat as she was going on an errand
for her mother. — That happened in the reign of Queen Dick, or ad Calendas
Graf as. — Seven boys were present, and he gave them all a book. — With
Cicero's writings it is right that young divines should be conversant; but they
should not give them the preference to Demosthenes, who by many degrees
excelled the other as an orator at least. — This self-made man arrived at Port
Natal with one coat to his back, and since he has succeeded in accumulating
ten millions. — Study to unite with firmness gentle, pleasing manners. (Is
melody lacking?) — Energy, industry, temperance, handiness, recommend
mechanics. — Some historians have expressed themselves very sillily. — His
eye passed sadly from one to the other, his venerable head shaking melan-
cholily, as if to say, "It is the right of the strongest."

We'll give 'em Jessie in the next campaign {Story of Jessie Fre" motif}. —
That beats the Dutch (reference to Martin Van Buren). — The hayseed dele-
gation in the present Legislature. — Will you O. K. these corrections ? —
Pass the milk jug. — Let me do the meat at dinner. — News has just reached
New York, that the overland train from San Francisco left the metals at
Grant's Station, New Mexico, yesterday evening {Glasgow Herald). — What
sort of a pull has he in his district? — Mr. B.'s character was whitewashed
by his friends. — Are the letters lifted? (Is the mail closed?) — I have
found a machine, so we will drive to Paisley to-day.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Herbert Spencer's " Essay on the Philosophy of Style ; " Mitford's
" Harmony in Language;" Schele de Vere's "Americanisms;"
ton's "Political Americanisms;" John S. Farmer's " Dictio
Words and Phrases Peculiar to the United States, British
and the West Indies."

1 84 LITERARY STYLE.

LESSON XVII.

RHETORICAL SENTENCES. — PERIODS AND LOOSE SENTENCES. —
THE CLIMAX. — THE BALANCE. — SENTENCES STUDIOUSLY
LONG AND STUDIOUSLY SHORT.

A sentence is the categorical (in accordance with an objective fact) or hypo-
thetical (in accordance -with the speaker 's subjective view) expression of a complete
thought in words. A complete thought implies a notion of doing or being, in con-
nection with a notion of something that does or is. These two separate notions
form the two great grammatical divisions of every sentence. — WRIGHTSON.

The construction of sentences is an important part of style. One may doubt
whether it would be practicable to make anything like a comprehensive collection of
all the forms of sentence possible in English. Writers on composition have hith-
erto attempted nothing more than to distinguish a few well-marked modes of
construction. — MINTO.

A short period is lively and familiar ; a long period makes an impression grave
and solemn. Long periods are to be avoided till the reader's attention is thoroughly
engaged ; therefore a discourse, especially of the familiar kind, ought never to be
introduced by a long period. — LORD KAMES.

The Second Essential of Excellence in Style is the

effective arrangement of the selected words in sentences.
Grammar teaches that a sentence is a collection of words
complete in sense, expressing either a statement, a com-
mand, or an inquiry. Rhetoric accepts the philosophy of
the sentence as thus unfolded by grammar ; and, through
its own special arrangement of the constituent parts with
reference to an end in view, transfuses power into the
grammatical whole.

" The fixed rules of grammar," wrote Dr. Hickok, " may be
observed ; but there is a power back of the grammarian perpetually
at work, making its selection of terms, arrangement of sentences,
modulation of paragraphs, — a living principle running through and

PERIODS AND LOOSE SENTENCES. 185

rendering the whole quick and forceful. This is eloquence, and
rhetoric is simply the studying of eloquence."

Grammar divides Sentences into simple, complex, and
compound. Rhetoric classifies differently.

Every Sentence is, Rhetorically, either Periodic or
Loose. A period is a sentence, simple or complex, in
which the sense is suspended until the end is reached ;
as, " No man has ever known pure happiness " (Euripides).
— " In the groves of their academy, at the end of every
visto, you see nothing but the gallows " (Burke).

The periodic form is secured " by bringing on predicates before
what they are predicated of, qualifications before what they qualify;"
by disposing of descriptive adjuncts, results, conditions, and alterna-
tives, at the outset. Irrelevant and unnecessary matter is thus likely
to be excluded, and the sentence raised to the highest degree of unity.
Suspense, provided thought be not unduly retarded, contributes to
force. The mind of the hearer or reader is kept in a state of expecta-
tion, until the entire idea to be communicated is flashed into it, at the
very last word, with clearness and penetration. This principle is
admirably illustrated in the following period of Wordsworth's : "I
trust the world and the friends of Sir Walter Scott may be hopeful,
with good reason, that the life and faculties of this man — who has
during the last six and twenty years diffused more innocent pleasure
than ever fell to the lot of any human being to do in his own lifetime
— may be spared."

A Loose Sentence is complete in meaning at one or
more points before its close ; thus, " These wakes were in
imitation of the ancient agapai, or love feasts || and were
first established in England by Pope Gregory the Great ||
who, in an epistle to Mellitus the Abbot, gave order that
they should be kept in sheds or arbories || made up of
branches and boughs of trees || round the church " (Spec-
tator}. This sentence may terminate, without incomplete-

1 86 LITERARY STYLE.

ness in form, at any of the four places indicated. There
is no element of suspense ; but the qualifying and explan-
atory adjuncts are added after the words they refer to.
The attention is thus broken, and the contained thought,
instead of being apprehended at once, must be gathered
piece by piece.

Loose sentences fulfill their function as the instruments of familiar
expression, and are free from the stiffness that characterizes uniform
periods. They are not necessarily languid or unmusical. Many of
the best sentences in English literature are loose, with a single break.
Moreover, in the hands of a master like Carlyle, the loose sentence
gives opportunity for brilliant and unexpected after touches ; to wit,
" This is the history of Charlotte Corday ; most definite, most com-
plete; angelic-demonic: like a Star!" And again: "Reader! thou
for thy sins must have met with such fair Irrationals ; fascinating with
their lively eyes, with their quick, snappish fancies ; distinguished in
the higher circles, in Fashion, even in Literature ; they hum and buzz
there, on graceful film-wings — searching, nevertheless, with the won-
derfullest skill for honey; untamable as flies!"

In the Use of Periods, Care is to be taken neither to
wear out nor perplex the reader by the introduction of too
many or too abstruse considerations before their bearing is
indicated by the turn of the sentence at the apod'osis, or
concluding part. The successful management of the loose
sentence, the less artificial of the two rhetorical forms,
involves the maintenance of anticipation after the first
break by the weight of the appended thoughts. All
appearance of rambling and basting is destructive of
energy. Both periods and loose sentences have their
advantages and adaptations ; the best writers avoid monot-
onous adherence to either form.

Climax. — Every sentence, whether loose or periodic,
should be constructed with some reference to the principle

THE BALANCE. l8/

of order already described as Climax. This implies a
climbing up (round by round of the rhetorical ladder) from
a lower to a higher level. The mind is thus kept in a
state of constantly increasing tension from the opening
of the sentence to the denouement. The force of such
arrangement is apparent in the following : —

It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honor, which
felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage whilst it mitigated ferocity,
which ennobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half
its evil, by losing all its grossness. — BURKE.

In a sentence not a perfect period, emphatic words should inter-
vene between the end of the period and the end of the sentence. If
these words are the most significant of all, the effect is to impart to
the resulting loose sentence the highest energy; thus, "The Puri-
tans refused the addition of Saint even to the Apostle of the Gentiles,
and to the disciple that Jesus loved " (Macaulay~).

The Balanced Sentence. — Compound sentences not
reducible to the periodic form are rendered effective by
a correspondence in the length, the grammatical construc-
tion, and the diction of their members ; as, " The first view
was the more splendid, the second the more real ; the
former more poetical, the latter more philosophical " (New-
man}. Such correspondence is rhetorical Balance. As
an expression of symmetry, it gives pleasure to taste ;
if not used to excess, it serves to fix the attention and
impress the memory ; where members are in opposition,
it heightens the contrast.

Balance is captivating to the ear, and easily enslaves
writers who employ it carelessly. Its excessive use con-
stituted in part the vice known as Euphuism in the Eliza-
bethan period, and especially imparted to the writings
of Dr. Johnson an affected and artificial character. It is

1 88 LITERARY STYLE.

to be avoided in consecutive sentences. In the second
volume of " Modern Painters," Ruskin discriminates
between symmetry and proportion in a series of balanced
periods : —

" Symmetry is the opposition of equal quantities to each other ; propor-
tion, the connection of unequal quantities with each other. The property of
a tree sending out equal boughs on opposite sides is symmetrical ; its sending
out shorter and smaller towards the top, proportional. In the human face, its
balance of opposite sides is symmetry ; its division upward, proportion."

The Length of the Sentence. — " No small element in
the mechanical art of sentence building," says Minto, " is
the adjustment of the length of the sentence." This
must be adapted, first, to the capacity of the hearer or
reader. A sentence short enough to be intelligible to one
person might not be readily grasped by another. Succes-
sions of long and intricate sentences oppress and weary
every modern reader, the average power of apprehension
being less in this age than it was when the great authors
of Greece and Rome constructed their elaborate periods.
Overfondness for conjunctions led many of our early
English writers to prefer a single sentence, "jointed and
rejointed, parenthesized and postscripted," to a series of
orderly statements, each containing the expression of a
simple or moderately complex thought. The books, how-
ever, which have attained the widest circulation are notice-
ably composed of short sentences.

Length should be atoned for by brilliancy, as in this sentence from
Macaulay's "Essay on Lord Clive," " fed but not overfed with ma-
terial, and almost perfect in its cadence and logical connection : " —

" Scarcely any man, however sagacious, would have thought it possible
that a trading company, separated from India by fifteen thousand miles of

LENGTH OF THE SENTENCE. 189

bea, and possessing in India only a few acres for purposes of commerce,
would, in less than a hundred years, spread its empire from Cape Comorin to
the eternal snow of the Himalayas; would compel Mahratta and Mahomme-
dan to forget their mutual feuds in common subjection ; would tame down
even those wild races which had resisted the most powerful of the Moguls;
and, having united under its laws a hundred millions of subjects, would carry
its victorious arms far to the east of the Burrampooter, and far to the west of
the Hydaspes, dictale terms of peace at the gates of Ava, and seat its vassal
on the throne of Candahar."

Inexperienced and Bungling Thinkers are the ones who
" tumble out their sentences as they would tilt stones from
a cart, trusting very much to accident for the shapeliness
of the result." They do not know where to stop, or
rather the proper point at which to begin a new sentence.
It is important for persons forming their styles to attempt
the management of long sentences with caution, especially
to beware of long introductory periods, — a prevalent juve-
nile blunder.

The following, from a New York Daily, is an objectionable long
sentence ; the student may explain why, contrasting it with the sen-
tence from Macaulay : —

" We were promised safety, and, apart from the fact of the ' Oceanic '
having behaved ' splendidly ' in a heavy gale, encountered on her first return
trip, we have, beyond the evidence of our own senses, the opinion of our best
shipbuilders, who are loud in their praises of Irish workmanship (the boats
being Belfast built) as to comfort, when in despite of heavy weather and an
exceptionally large number of passengers, we find the whole two hundred and
forty-eight (in the saloon), through a committee headed by such men as
Honorable W. E. Dodge, Colonel Rockefeller, and other well-known New
Yorkers, unanimously pass a series of resolutions highly complimentary to
the ship and her officers, and describing the voyage more like life at a gay
and fashionable watering place than ' on board ship,' bearing evidence also
to extremely easy motion of the great ship even in rough weather, we think
the most skeptical as to the fulfillment of the programm0 of the White Star
Line should be convinced."

I go LITERARY STYLE.

The Affected Use of Short Sentences is equally to be
condemned, as destructive of coherence, and grace of
movement. Sound thought cannot be thus expressed.
Short sentences are so characteristic of French authors as
to have occasioned De Quincey's observation, that "a long
and involved sentence could hardly be produced from
French literature, though a sultan were to offer his daugh-
ter in marriage to the man who should find it." Hun-
dreds of sentences having an average length of ten words
or less may be selected from French newspapers. Even
Victor Hugo has expressed his genius in such series of
abrupt, "snappy" utterances. Thus, from "The Man who
Laughs : " —

"They regained confidence. All that had been fury was now tranquil-
lity. It appeared to them a pledge of peace. Their wretched hearts dilated.
They were able to let go the end of 'a rope to which they had clung, to rise,
hold themselves up, stand, walk, move about. They felt inexpressibly
calmed. There are in the depths of darkness such phases of Paradise —
preparations for other things. It was clear that they were delivered out of
the storm, out of the foam, out of the wind, out of the uproar. Henceforth
all the chances were in their favor. In three or four hours it would be sun-
rise. They would be seen by some passing ship; they would be rescued.
The worst was over."

Rhetoric cannot prescribe a Definite Limit for the
Length of Sentences, nor fix the proportion in which
long and short sentences should be intermixed. A con-
tinuation of either form is tiresome. Taste insists on
variety. Any sentence that is adapted to the purpose
intended — whether long or short, loose or periodic —
is rhetorical.

QUESTIONS.

Name the second essential of excellence in style. Give the gram-
matical definition and classification of sentences. What does rhetoric

CRITICISM. IQI

Infuse into the grammatical whole, and how? Rhetorically, what
must every sentence be in structure ? Define a period. How is the
periodic form secured ? State the effect of suspense on energy. Define
and illustrate loose sentences. How do they fulfill their function?
Show that they are not necessarily languid. When is the periodic
structure tedious? when exasperating? Which of the two forms is
more dignified? which, more natural? State the rule of choice.

Define climax. Account for its force. Explain and illustrate the
effect of introducing highly emphatic words between the end of a
period and the end of the containing sentence. Such words have been
called "the whiplash;" why? In what does balance consist? State
its advantages ; the evils of its excessive use. What habit usually de-
stroys the balance of a sentence? ( That of tacking on afterthoughts.')
Whose style is notoriously the most balanced in our literature?

Why is it necessary for a composer to have regard to the length
of his sentences ? What is the effect of a succession of long sentences ?
Of a succession of short ones? Show how the abuse of conjunctions
operated to make the sentences of our early writers unduly long. To
whom belongs the credit of having reformed English sentence struc-
ture? (To Swift, Addison, and Steele, who to a great extent renounced
the interminable sentence, with its relatives, conjunctions, and inver-
sions.') Characterize the affected use of short sentences. What prin-
ciple of choice applies here ?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Recast the following sentences so as to eliminate the unpleasant
suspension of the sense (begin the first, "It is a defect when a sen-
tence is constructed ") : —

"To construct a sentence with many loosely and not obviously depend-
ent clauses, each clause containing an important meaning or a concrete image
the vivacity of which, like a bowlder in a shallow stream, disturbs the equable
current of thought, — and in such a case the more beautiful the image the
greater the obstacle, so that the laws of simplicity and economy are violated
by it, — while each clause really requires for its interpretation a proposition
that is, however, kept suspended till the close, — is a defect."

"At present, the rapid spread of the Theosophic philosophy and —
which is, perhaps, even more significant — of various ideas, which, harmless
or even good as they may be in themselves, belong to, and tend to unite with,
its system, is undeniable."

192 LITERARY STYLE.

Make the following sentences periodic: —

In short, like a novel-hero dilemma'd, I made up my mind " to be
guided by circumstances," in default of more satisfactory rules of conduct

(**)•

Men of the best sense have been touched more or less with these

groundless presages of futurity, upon surveying the most indifferent works of
nature {Spectator).

On the principles of this mechanic philosophy, our institutions can
never be embodied, if I may use the expression, in persons ; so as to create
in us love, veneration, admiration, or attachment {Burke}.

Combine the two following sentences into a single periodic sen-
tence : " The tide was rising with great rapidity, so we thought it best
to abandon the rock. Besides, our friends on the beach seemed
hardly able to hold their own."

Point out the " whiplash " in the following sentence from Demos-
thenes: "Has he not thrust aside Thessalians, ourselves, Dorians,
the whole Amphictyonic body, and got preaudience of the oracle, to
which even the Greeks do not pretend ? "

Criticise this sentence from the same orator: "In peace, children
bury their parents; in war, parents bury their children." And the
following from the Analects of Confucius : " Learning without thought
is labor lost ; thought without learning is perilous."

Let each student select five periodic sentences from De Quincey,
five loose sentences from Carlyle, as many balanced sentences from
Dr. Johnson, an equal number of perfect short sentences from Macau-
lay, and of perfect long sentences from Ruskin. The sentences
selected should be presented for criticism in the presence of the
class.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Wrightson's " An Examination of the Functional Elements of an
English Sentence;" Professor John Earle's "English Prose;" Saint-
bury's " Specimens of English Prose Style ; " Houghton, MiiHin, &
Company's " American Prose."

PUNCTUATION OF RHETORICAL SENTENCES. 193

LESSON XVIII.

THE PUNCTUATION OF RHETORICAL SENTENCES. — THE PERIOD,
THE INTERROGATION POINT, THE EXCLAMATION POINT, AND
THE COLON.

As oral speech has its tones and inflections, its pauses and its emphases, to give
greater expression to the thoughts which spoken words represent ; so written or
printed language is accompanied with marks or points, to enable the reader to com-
prehend, by a glance of the eye, the precise and determinate sense of the author. —
JOHN WILSON.

Punctuation is intimately connected with style. As forms of thought are
infinite in number, so are the modes of expression ; and punctuation, adapting
itself to these, is an instrument capable of manipulation in a thousand ways. —
ALLARDYCE.

Punctuation (from the Latin punctus, a point} is the
art of separating the parts of a sentence by characters
having certain grammatical values, with a view to making
plain the relationships of words and clauses, and thus
rendering the meaning unmistakable. Inasmuch as it fits
sentences adequately to fulfill their function as vehicles of
clear thought, punctuation is a true handmaid x}f beauty.

Punctuation as we know it to-day is a product of the printer's art.
Ancient rolls and inscriptions were generally written without distinc-
tion of sentences or words. Proper names were occasionally inclosed
in rings or ovals ; and, as the necessity for breaking up texts into
grammatical parts became imperative, a wedge-shaped sign (>) was
used to indicate the beginning of a sentence ; and a diagonal bar, some
letter, or a space, to separate the individual words. Quotations were
acknowledged by arrowheads in the margin. In the third century
B.C., a system was devised by the grammarian Aristophanes, which
employed a single point, a dot (.), with the force of a period when
placed at the top of a letter (A*), of a colon in the middle (A- ), and
of a comma at the bottom (A.).

QUACK. RHET. — 13

LITERARY STYLE.

Our modern points came into use gradually after the invention of
printing. For some time, a perpendicular line ( | ) was used indiscrim-
inately by the early printers for comma, colon, and period. In the
" Boke of Magna Carta," printed in 1534, this perpendicular line serves
in the capacity of every point except the period, which is diamond-
shaped. ("A vvydowe after the death of her husbande | shall have
her maryage and inherytaunce | and shall gyve nothyng for her dower |
her maryage | or her inherytaunce | which her husbande and she helde
the daye of the death of her sayde husbond*") Tyndale's Testa-
mente (1526) employs a slanted line for the comma. (" But Jhon
fforbade hym' sayinge.") The elegant forms now in use owe their
origin (together with Italics, an imitation of Petrarch's handwriting)
to the founders of the Aldine Press in the sixteenth century. The
semicolon was not a recognized stop in England until 1633 (Butler's
"English Grammar"); hence Shakespeare must have written his
plays without its aid.

The Characters used in Punctuation are : the Period (.)
(meaning a circuit or round}, used after a complete circuit
of words ; the Colon ( : ) (limb or member), indicating a
break less than that designated by the period, and imply-
ing that another member is to follow; the Semicolon (;)
(half a member], marking a less formal break than the
colon ; the Comma (,) (that which is struck off}, denoting
the least degree of separation that requires a point.
These are the true grammatical stops.

The Exclamation point ( ! ) and the Interrogation point
(?) are used similarly after sentences, members, and clauses,
with the grammatical force of the period, colon, semicolon,
and comma, and with additional rhetorical significance of
their own ; the former indicating emotion, the latter a ques-
tion. The Dash (sudden or violent stroke} implies a break
or transition in the sense. Brackets ( [ ] ) and curves of
Parenthesis (putting in beside} inclose extraneous matter.

Great Inconsistency prevails in the Use of the Fore-

PUNCTUATION OF RHETORICAL SENTENCES. 19$

going Grammatical Points. Good usage differs. Punctu-
ation is an art in which there is much room for the
exercise of taste. As an art, however, it is founded on
certain broad but definite principles ; and, while considera-
ble latitude is allowed in the application of these princi-
ples, whatever directly violates them is inadmissible. In
brief, they must be a law to all composers desiring to ex-
press thought accurately in written or printed words.

The tendency of the age is toward open punctuation, or the avoid-
ance of all points not absolutely required by the grammatical construc-
tion. Marks of punctuation are omitted at the ends of lines in the
title-pages of books, in the addresses of letters, in ledger headings, etc.

Sentences are separated from One Another by the period,
the exclamation point, the interrogation point, the colon,
and the colon followed by the dash.

A Period, or Full Stop, is placed at the end of every
declarative and imperative sentence ; as, " Histories make
men wise." — "Fear God, and keep his commandments."

An Exclamation Point is placed after an exclamatory
sentence ; as, " Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness ! "
— " What a piece of work is man ! "

An Interrogation Point is placed after a sentence which
directly asks a question ; as, " What's that which brings
contempt upon a book ? " — " Whence is man ? " — " It is
a significant fact that Pilate's question, What is truth ?
when put to Truth itself, brought him no reply."

Sentences that merely assert a question are not in themselves
questions, and are therefore followed by the period; as, " Cowper
asked what that is which brings contempt upon a book."

Again, sentences that are declarative in form may really be inter-
rogative in meaning, and require the interrogation point to bring out
the sense : —

196 LITERARY STYLE.

Great pity too,

That, having wielded the elements, and built
A thousand systems, each in his own way,
They should go out in fume and be forgot ?

The Task.

The note of interrogation clearly shows the meaning of the poet to be
" Is it not great pity too?"

The Colon, in its office as an introductory point to a
direct quotation or a formal enumeration of particulars,
may close a declarative period. For example, " The
Prince of Orange died with these words on his lips :
' God have mercy on me and on this poor people ! ' '
"The object of this book is twofold: first, to teach the
inexperienced how to express their thoughts correctly and
elegantly ; secondly, to enable them to appreciate the lit-
erary productions of others."

The Colon followed by the Dash precedes a quotation
made more formal by embodiment in a separate paragraph.
Thus, " Every one should be familiar with the golden
verses of Pythagoras : —

" ' Ne'er suffer sleep thine eyes to close

Before thy mind hath run
O'er every act, and thought, and word,

From dawn to set of sun ;
For wrong take shame, but grateful feel,

If just thy course hath been ;
Such effort, day by day renewed,

Will ward thy soul from sin.' "

The period is further used to mark abbreviations like Dr., Messrs.,
Ph.D. (Doctor of Philosophy), L.H.D. (Doctor of Humane or Polite
Letters), W. E. Gladstone (William Ewart), Chapter V., etc. In
abbreviations a double letter indicates one plural, and hence requires
but one period, as in LL.D. (Doctor of Laws, Legnm}, pp. (pages),
MSS. (manuscripts). The following are exceptions to the rule: Con-
tractions that have passed into common use, like cab, eve ; Ben and

PUNCTUATION OF RHETORICAL SENTENCES. 197

Tom (familiar for Benjamin and Thomas : Benj. and Thos. are the
formal abbreviations) ; certain abbreviations that retain the last let-
ters of the whole word, as 121110 (duodecimo), ima, 4tte (prima,
quartette, abbreviations of musical terms from Italian) ; certain abbre-
viations of medical and other terms, as 9 (scruple), 3 (drachm),
& (and), 19 (nineteen), @ (at), % (per cent).

The exclamation point and the interrogation point are placed after
exclamatory and interrogative words and clauses as well as sentences ;
thus, " Shame !" — "It rains still, eh?" — " Three cheers !" — " When
did it happen? where? under what circumstances?"

The colon was formerly, and is still occasionally, used between
the members of compound sentences, when they are not jointed to-
gether by conjunctions and the connection is slight. As a rule, such
members might better constitute separate sentences. - Modern regard
for coherence is manifested in the construction of closely knitted mem-
bers and clauses, so that, as a grammatical point, the colon is seldom
required. Recourse to it was inevitable in such a sentence as the
following : —

If I would here put on the scholar and politician, I might inform my
readers how these bodily exercises or games were formerly encouraged in all
the commonwealths of Greece ; from whence the Romans afterwards bor-
rowed their pentathlum, which was composed of running, wrestling, leaping,
throwing, and boxing, though the prizes were generally nothing but a crown
of cypress or parsley, hats not being in fashion in those days : that there is
an old statute, which obliges every man in England, having such an estate,
to keep and exercise the longbow : by which means our ancestors excelled
all other nations in the use of that weapon, and we had all the real advan-
tages, without the inconvenience, of a standing army : and that I once met
with a book of projects, in which the author, considering to what noble ends
that spirit of emulation, which so remarkably shows itself among our common
people in these wakes, might be directed, proposes that for the improvement
of all our handicraft trades there should be annual prizes set up for such per-
sons as were most excellent in their several arts. — Spectator,

A writer of to-day would break such a sentence into fragments,
doing away with all necessity for colons. The student may attempt
its dismemberment.

The Colon is generally placed after such words as
To sum up, Resolved, To bring this argument to a conclu-

198 LITERARY STYLE.

sion, marking a new stage in the discourse. If what fol-
lows is short, a comma may be preferred. " Resolved :
That by the payment of the national debt we are losing
the advantages of the national banking system."

QUESTIONS.

Give the etymology of the word punctuation. Define the art.
Of what is it a product? Narrate the history of points. Name the
characters used in punctuation, and state the office of each. How are
rhetorical sentences fitted for fulfillment of function by punctuation?
Why is punctuation economical? {Because it lessens the effort re-
quired on the part of the reader for interpreting the sense. .)

For what is there great room in the use of points ? As an art,
on what is punctuation founded ? How much latitude is allowable ?
Explain the wit of Timothy Dexter, who left all points out of his
book, " A Pickle for the Knowing Ones," and printed at the end five
pages of stops, with which "the reader might pepper his dish as he
chose." Is there not in the use of punctuation points a fair degree
of uniformity ?

Name the points that separate sentences from one another. When
is the period used ? the exclamation point ? the interrogation point ?
the colon ? the colon followed by the dash ? What abbreviations take
the period ? what omit it? Does the use of the period after an abbre-
viated word prevent another point from immediately following the
period ? What besides sentences do the notes of exclamation and
interrogation follow ? What points may follow Resolved, etc. ?

EXERCISE.

Insert the omitted punctuation points in the following extracts,
and state why each point is required : —

"On the fifth of February, 1841, Mr. Serjeant Talfourd moved that the
bill to amend the law of copyright should be read a second time. In reply
to him, Lord Macaulay made the following forcible speech <

"Though, sir, it is in some sense agreeable to approach a subject with
which political animosities have nothing to do," etc.

On churchyards drear (inhuman to relate) the prowlers fall.— Hence,
every harsher sight — Woe unto thee, Chorazin— Two paths open before
every youth; on the one hand, that of vice, with its unreal and short-lived

CRITICISM. 199

pleasures ; on the other, that of virtue, with the genuine and permanent
happiness it insures;— O day O day O day O hateful day — The RevJasA*
Smith, S.T. D^LL-D, was the pres/r<? fern-, — O virtue how disinterested thou
art, how noblelhow lovely1 — I am a Jew s Hath not a Jew eyes ^ Hath not a
Jew hands organs dimensions senses affections passions — Do you imagine
that it is the Land Tax Act which raises your revenuefthat it is the annual
vote in the Committee of Supply which gives you your army or that it is the
Mutiny Bill which inspires it with bravery and discipline^ No. surely no —

Who can recount what transmigrations there
Are annual made; what nations come and go'*
And how the living clouds on clouds arise1: —
Infinite wings, till all the plume-dark air
And rude-resounding shore are one wild cry *

The Seasons.

My God Can it be possible I have

To die so suddenly So young to go

Under the obscure, cold, rotting, wormy ground.

To be nailed down into a narrow place ;

To see no more sweet sunshine, hear no more

Blithe voice of living thing

How fearful to be nothing Or to be

What O where am I Let me not go mad

Sweet Heaven forgive weak thoughts • If there should be

No God, no Heaven, no Earth in the void world ;

The wide, gray, lampless, deep, unpeopled world'

If all things then should be ... my father's spirit

. . . Even tho' dead,

Does not his spirit live in all that breathe,

And work for me and mine still the same ruin,

Scorn, pain, despair Who ever yet returned

To teach the laws of death's untrodden realm

Unjust perhaps as those which drive us now,

O, whither whither

Beatrice, in SHELLEY'S The Cend.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Wilson's " Treatise on Punctuation." For abbreviations not usu-
ally found in dictionaries, and their punctuation, Griffith, Farran, and
Company's " Dictionary of Twenty-five Hundred Contractions."

2OO LITERARY STYLE.

LESSON XIX.

THE PUNCTUATION OF RHETORICAL SENTENCES. — THE SEMICOLON,
THE COMMA, AND THE DASH. — OTHER MARKS USED IN
WRITING AND PRINTING.

They who are learning to compose and arrange their sentences with accuracy
and order are learning at the same time to think with accuracy and order. — DR.
BLAIR.

For a reader that pointeth ill, a good sentence oft may spill. — ROMAUNT OF
THE ROSE.

Parts of Sentences, except in the cases already con-
sidered, are separated from one another by the semicolon,
the comma, and the dash. Three great principles govern
the use of these three points : —

I. The Principle of Gradation ; that is, rise in point
values with rise in importance of sentence parts, or in
degree of separation between them. This principle re-
quires the comma between the main divisions of sentences,
when the connection is intimate and there are no subdi-
visions ; the semicolon, when the connection is not close,
or when the members are themselves divided into parts
requiring separation by the comma ; the colon, when the
connection is remote, or when minor subdivisions occur
that are separated by semicolons.

II. The Principle of isolating Parenthetical Expres-
sions, words and clauses not necessary to the sense, and
introduced in such a way as to break the grammatical
connection, and interrupt harmonious sentence flow. In
such cases, the lines of demarcation are distinct. Usage
compels attention to them by inserting commas.

PRINCIPLE OF GRADATION. 2OI

III. The Principle of indicating by the Dash unex-
pected transition, abrupt break of continuity, thus saving
the reader from temporary confusion.

The law that lies behind and explains these three
principles of punctuation is the Law of Order. The pla-
cing of points in accordance with their requirements is
a perfectly logical procedure, comprehensible by every
intelligent person. And those who punctuate on principle
will be led in turn to think precisely, and express them-
selves accurately.

The Principle of Gradation. — The degree of connec-
tion between sentence members, on which depends the
choice between the semicolon and the comma, must be
determined by the individual taste. In the sentence,
" Nobody sees his own faults every one is lynx-eyed to
those of his neighbor," - — some would place a semicolon,
others a comma, after the word faults. This is plainly
a case of divided use (see p. 195) ; it falls within the
limits of legitimate taste difference. The insertion of
the conjunction but between the members renders the
connection closer, and excludes punctuation by the semi-
colon. In this case, however, should words set off by
commas be inserted into either member, we should be
obliged to raise the central pointing ; thus, " Nobody,
in the opinion of Menander, sees his own faults ; but
every one is lynx-eyed to those 'of his neighbor." The
comma on each side of the parenthetical words, in the
opinion of Menander, and the semicolon marking the main
division of the sentence, is philosophical punctuation.

Conjunctions mark transitions to something new, enforcing or
qualifying what has gone before. They are generally preceded by
some point ; and the proper point is determined by this principle

2O2 LITERARY STYLE.

of gradation. The punctuator inquires into the closeness of connec-
tion, the length of the parts joined, and the use of other points in
these parts. Cases will arise in which the connection is too intimate

' to admit of notice by any point. For instance, the comma is univer-
sally omitted before and, or, and nor, when they connect two single
words that are the same part of speech: as, "To have similar likes
and dislikes is firm friendship." — " Nor heaven nor earth shall hear
his prayer."

But, if one word is limited by modifiers that might erroneously be
applied to both, a comma is inserted to preserve the sense ; thus,
"The relative pronoun who is applied to persons, and things personi-
fied." Without the comma, personified would qualify persons as well
as things. A careful composer would, of course, so construct his sen-
tences as to avoid all such contingencies. If the foregoing sentence
be made to read. " The relative pronoun ivho is applied to persons
and to things personified," the absurdity disappears.

When and, or, or nor, occurs between the last two words of a
series, philosophy requires the insertion of a comma before it ; as,
" The colleges, the clergy, and the lawyers, were against him." The
omission of the comma before and would imply a closer connection
between the last two words of the series than between any other

. two.

In Accordance with the Principle of Gradation, choice
must be made between the colon and the comma as in-
troductory points to direct quotations. The comma is
familiar ; the colon, formal, as illustrated in the following
punctuation : Terence was the first to say, " Many men,
many minds." A Greek dramatic poet added to Solon's
motto as follows : " The maxim, Know thyself, is not suffi-
cient ; Know others, know them well — that's my advice."

Under this principle also, the comma supplies the place of omitted
words. In " London is the capital of England ; Paris, of France." —
the break between Paris and of France is sufficient to require a point;
and, being minor to that after England, a comma properly denotes it.

The interruption of flow that occurs after a long or divided logi-
cal subject is indicated by the comma; as, " To say that he endured

PARENTHETICAL EXPRESSIONS. 203

without a murmur the misfortunes that now came upon him, is to say
only what his previous life would have led us to expect." — " A few
daring jests, a brawl, and a fatal stab, make up the life of Marlowe."
In the second sentence, the break after stab is uniform in degree with
that after jests and that after brawl ; the principle of gradation demands
consistent pointing.

Finally, in certain cases of transposition, the break in sentence
structure is sufficiently conspicuous to require the insertion of a
comma; thus, " In order to gain his point, he did not hesitate to use
deceit." If these words be arranged in the strict grammatical order,
the gap is close, and no comma is needed. " He did not hesitate to
use deceit in order to gain his point." Transposition does not always
cause a sensible line of cleavage. The inversion in " Great is Diana
of the Ephesians," is effected by swinging the sentence round on the
verb as a pivot, and thus bringing the predicate to the front. There
is no break in continuity, and hence no occasion for any point, as
there would be if the order were, " Great, Diana of the Ephesians is."

The Principle of isolating Parenthetical Expressions. —
In accordance with the requirements of this principle,
commas set off, from the rest of the sentence, words,
phrases, and clauses, that are non-essential to the meaning,
but explain, modify, or extend, the leading proposition.
The following are examples of words and phrases com-
monly used parenthetically, either between the component
parts of a sentence, or attached to the beginning or the
end : too, therefore, also, perhaps, here and there, indeed,
however, accordingly, consequently, in short, in fact, gener-
ally speaking, to a certain extent, on the contrary. When
such expressions cohere firmly to the adjacent parts of
the sentence, taste omits all punctuation ; as in the sen-
tences, "Perhaps they are saved." — "He began this paint-
ing two years ago at Rome."

The mere introduction of words, adjuncts, and clauses, does not
make them parenthetical. They may be restrictive, or essential to the

204 LITERARY STYLE,

sense ; and in such cases the comma must not be placed between them
and what they restrict. In the sentence, "A man tormented by a
guilty conscience cannot be happy," the participial clause is restrictive ;
the sense would be incomplete without it. But if we write, " Alex-
ander the Great, having conquered the world, was unable to conquer
himself," the italicized words may be omitted without injury to the
meaning; hence they are set off by commas.

In like manner, relative clauses may or may not be restrictive.
The test is easily applied. The restrictive relative clause in the fol-
lowing sentence is not separated by the comma from its antecedent :
" Respect the theories of a philosopher whose judgment is clear."
But if other restrictive clauses are added, requiring separation from
one another by commas, then, under the principle of gradation, the
first must be separated from the common antecedent by the same
point ; thus, " Respect the theories of a philosopher, whose judgment
is clear, whose learning is extensive, and whose reasonings are founded
on facts." The same principle applies where there is a series of ante-
cedents and a single restrictive relative clause; as, "He prepared a
list of statesmen, churchmen, and military officers, whom chance
rather than merit had rendered famous."

Special Cases of Parenthetical Insertion. — Single
words in apposition, and appositional clauses, are paren-
thetical, and as such are marked off by commas (" The
gentle Spenser, Fancy's pleasing son "), except where
used in a limiting or distinguishing sense (The River
Rhine, — John the Baptist, — The lion-hearted king him-
self, — James Gordon Bennett). After a vocative clause
containing the name of a person or thing addressed, the
comma or the exclamation point may be used ; as, " My
son, give me thy heart." - - " Men of Athens ! listen to my
defense."

Explanatory remarks and equivalents introduced by
or are parenthetical ; the method of punctuating them is
illustrated in the following sentence : " Hypnotism, or
that abnormal mind condition in which the mental action

PARENTHETICAL EXPRESSIONS. 2O5

and the will power of the subject are under the control of
the operator, is utilized by many physicians in the treat-
ment of functional diseases." In the double titles of books,
technical usage prefers a semicolon before or, and a comma
after it ; thus, " Typee ; or, a Peep at Polynesian Life."
When or is omitted, the colon takes its place ; as, " At-
lantis : The Antediluvian World."

Words repeated for the sake of emphasis or other
rhetorical effect, are grammatically parenthetical, and
hence are set off (with their modifiers, if they have any)
by the comma : " And the raven still is sitting, still is
sitting, on the pallid bust of Pallas." •— " Blessed, thrice
blessed, is the peacemaker."

Words arranged in pairs follow the same rule as simple
words in a series, a pair being regarded as a unit. Thus,
" Generous but not prodigal, frugal but not parsimonious,
brave but not rash, learned but not pedantic, this prince
maintained a happy medium between all objectionable
extremes."

A causal infinitive clause is parenthetical, and is
punctuated accordingly ; as, " The doctor sent his son
to Yale, to study philology under Professor Whitney."

The Dash indicates Unfinished Thought or Syntax,
and hence is used to mark sudden or precipitate breaks,
omissions, interruptions, hesitation, and abrupt repetition.
Its function is shown in these sentences : " And all this
long story was about — what do you think?" —"If it
should rain, I request the poor thing may have a — a —
what's this? coat? coat — no, coach" (an attempt to
decipher a letter). — " We cannot hope to succeed, unless
— But we must succeed." — " Rich honesty often dwells
in a poor house — like your pearl in a spoiled oyster."

206 LITERARY STYLE.

The sense is here suddenly suspended, and the sentence
closed with a surprise ; as again in the following : " All
this is excellent — upon paper."

When the dash is used after other points, it adds its peculiar
rhetorical significance to their ordinary grammatical meaning. It fol-
lows a period between a side head and a paragraph, or between an
extract and the name of the quoted author or book, to increase the
degree of separation. Its office is similar when added to period,
exclamation point, or interrogation point, after sentences not related,
but brought together in the same paragraph (see the Exercise at the
end of this Lesson). It is placed after the colon, as already shown,
when the transition is violent ; rarely after the semicolon, to denote
lively contrast between two members ; and after the comma, at the
close of a long complex subject whose connection with the verb might
easily be lost sight of, particularly when the subject is summed up by
such words as all, all these, and such. To illustrate : " Physical
science, including chemistry, geology, geography, astronomy ; meta-
physics, philology, theology ; economics, including taxation and
finance; politics and general literature, — all occupied by turn, and
almost simultaneously, his incessantly active mind."

Parentheses. — In addition to the foregoing grammat-
ical and rhetorical points, certain other marks that are
employed in written and printed matter require reference
here.

Parentheses, or curves of parenthesis, are used to inclose
words introduced into a sentence by way of explanation or
comment, but so abruptly as to preclude punctuation by
the comma ; as, " The whole nation mourns, as the news-
papers tell us (for my part, I see few signs of it), the defeat
of the Appropriation Bill." The effect is that of inter-
ruption. The parenthesis may be entirely avoided by exer-
cising care to make the parts of the sentence properly
coalesce. Its legitimate use is confined to words entirely
foreign to the construction, like expressions of approbation

MARKS USED IN WRITING AND PRINTING. 2O/

and the reverse, introduced into reports of speeches, direc-
tions to performers in dramatic compositions, and general
references.

An interrogation point within curves (?) is placed after a state-
ment to cast doubt on it; an exclamation point within curves (!), to
denote wonder, sarcasm, or contempt : " This would-be scholar ( !)."
— " When I receive the appointment (?)."

Brackets are generally used to isolate interpolated
words, usually corrections or supposed omissions ; thus,
Professor Stubbs, quoting from an Anglo-Saxon law,
encountered a vacancy, and filled in by conjecture the
bracketed words : —

"If ceorls have a common meadow, or other partible land to fence, and
some have fenced their part, some have not, and [strange cattle come in
and] eat up the common corn or grass, let those go who own the gap and
compensate to the others."

Brackets are also employed in dictionaries to inclose figured pro-
nunciations, etymologies, and general references ; thus, from the " Cen-
tury : " " Hubbite (hub'it), n. [< hub (" The Hub," as applied to
Boston in Massachusetts) + tie.'] A Bostonian. [Humorous.]

The Apostrophe indicates the omission of some letter
or letters ; as, can't for cannot, I'll for / will. Our pos-
sessive case, being a relic of a Saxon genitive with the
vowel of the added syllable omitted, takes the apostrophe
before the appended s. The Anglo-Saxon kearperes, for
instance, is now written harpers ; Codes willan has become
God's will.

It is to be noted that nouns ending in s have full rights to the
genitive inflection, y ones' s far in is grammatical, and in every way
preferable to Jones' farm.

The apostrophe followed by s forms the plural of letters, figures,
and signs; as, " Dot your i's, make your 8's better, and insert two
-f-'s."

208 LITERARY STYLE.

The Hyphen (under one) is used between the parts of a
compound to indicate that they unite to form one word ;
as in man-of-war, court-martial, Dr. Dry-as-dust. Reference
to a dictionary will determine whether the parts of certain
words about which there may be doubt have so completely
coalesced as to be written without the hyphen.

The hyphen distinguishes between words of similar spelling, but
of different pronunciation and meaning, re-creation from recreation,
re-mark from remark, dogs-ear (the twisted corner of a leaf) from
dog's ear (the ear of a dog). It serves further to make clear the
meaning of certain combinations. Live-stock market means a mar-
ket for domestic animals ; live stock-market implies activity on the
exchange. So in white-oak pail, wooden-shoe makers.

Quotation Marks. — When the exact words of another
are borrowed for any purpose, it is customary to place
before them two inverted commas ("), and after them two
apostrophes ("). Note the passages quoted in this Lesson.

When a quotation occurs within another quotation,
single points are used to inclose it ; and, should a third
quotation be introduced into the passage inclosed between
single points, double points are again resorted to for the
sake of distinction. Thus, " King Louis asked Joinville,
' Would you rather be a leper, or commit what the church
calls " a deadly sin " ? ' The note of interrogation stands
to the left of the single apostrophe, because it is quoted
with the question it marks. The quoted words, " a deadly
sin," are a part of this question ; hence the note of inter-
rogation stands outside the double apostrophes.

The titles of books are usually placed within quotation
marks, as is done throughout this volume.

For Accents, Emphasis Marks, Reference Marks, etc.,
refer to the Appendix, p. 463.

PRINCIPLES OF CAPITALIZATION. 2CK)

The Principles of Capitalization, with which every pro-
ficient in grammar is assumed to be familiar, since they fit
a sentence, like points, better to fulfill the design of its
framer as a conveyer of clear thought, may be briefly
summarized here : —

Begin with a Capital Letter the first word of every sen-
tence, of every line of poetry, of every direct quotation.

Begin with Capital Letters : -

A.11 appellations of the Deity (The Almighty, The Self-
Exisieni One, The Over-Soul}.

Titles of persons, offices, and books ( The Right Honor-
able, Lord Provost ; pre-titles like Dr. and Mr. ; post-titles *
like Esq. ; Milton's " Paradise Lost ").

Proper names, and adjectives derived from them (Charles
Martel, Fifth Avenue, English, Christian). The words north,
south, etc., when the names of certain sections of the coun-
try, begin with capitals ; but when they merely refer to
points of the compass, they are written with small letters.
(The South opposed the bill. — The wind is from the east}
Certain adjectives derived from proper names, but now
used simply to express a quality, begin with small letters
(stentorian, stoical, chimerical, hermetic, volcanic, gordian,
socratic, quixotic, epicurean, herculean : the student may
ascertain the origin of each). Other adjectives not formed
from proper nouns, but denoting a religious sect, etc., take
capitals ; as, Protestant, Methodist, Encyclopedists.

The names of the days of the week, of special weeks
(like Easter Week, Passion Week}, of the months, but
not of the seasons unless personified (It has been dry all
summer — but, "The passionate Summer's dead").

The names of objects personified, as in the foregoing
example.

QUACK. RHET. — 14

2IO LITERARY STYLE.

The pronoun I and the interjection O.

Any words regarded as of special importance, — the
names of noted written instruments (Magna CJiartd), of
historical periods (Middle Ages, Glacial Epoch], words
describing well-known events (the Children's Crusade], etc.

QUESTIONS.

How are the parts of sentences separated ? What three great
principles govern the use of points? Explain the principle of grada-
tion ; the principle of isolating parenthetical words ; the principle of
the dash. On what does the punctuator's estimate of the degree of
closeness of connection depend? Illustrate the effect of conjunctions
between members. When is a comma necessary before and, or, and
nor? when not? What points precede direct quotations? State the
principle of choice. On what principle is a comma required after a
long or divided logical subject ? How are transpositions punctuated ?

Explain the difference between parenthetical and restrictive expres-
sions ; the difference in punctuating them. When are restrictive rela-
tive clauses set off by commas ? Explain how appositional clauses are
punctuated, with exceptions. Equivalents introduced by or. Repeated
words. Pairs. Causal infinitives. What does the clash indicate?
Illustrate its use after the period, colon, semicolon, and comma.

What do parentheses inclose? brackets? When is (!) appropri-
ate? when (?) ? State the uses of the apostrophe; of the hyphen; of
quotation points. How are quotations within quotations indicated?

State the principles of capitalization that apply to appellations of
the Deity ; to titles ; to proper names and adjectives ; to the names
of the days of the week, of special weeks, of the months, of the
seasons, of personified objects ; to a certain pronoun and a certain
interjection ; to words of special importance.

EXERCISE.

In the following sentences, supply the omitted capitals and punc-
tuation points, and explain why each is required :

Sleep mr speaker its surely fair(

if you dont in your bed you should in your chair ^

longer and longer still they grow

CRITICISM. 2 1 I

tory and radical aye and no

talking by night and talking by day ,

sleep mr, speaker sleep sleep while you may

PRAED'S Stanzas to the Speaker Asleep.

"A minister of some experience remarks i have heard more.than one
sufferer say^i am thankful god is good to me^and when I heard that i said is
it not good to be afflicted "*V ' ^ "i

"The sonnet in which he intimates his secret passion for anne boleyn
whom he describes under the allegory of a doe bearing on her collar

Noli me tangere I csesars am

is remarkable for more than the poetry though that is pleasing "

Just as as (par 205) is used for the relative pronoun that so but is used
for that not for example there is no one but hates me i e that hates me not.

the gospel according to st mark in anglo saxon and northumbrian ver
sions synoptically arranged edited for the syndics of the university press by
the rev .waiter w skeat.m.a Cambridge deighton bell & co 1871

" charles then gave way to sardonic glee have i not asked he of Catherine
de medici played my part well he who cannot dissemble is not fit to reign
said louis xi have not i known how to dissemble queried charles quoting this
precept have not i well learned the lesson and the latin of my ancestor louis
xi." — Some one I think it was Lord Chesterfield said whatever is worth
doing is worth doing well — On a bright summer day in the year 18 , the
little village of was thrown into unusual excitement by the arrival of

the L family from N — It is of Pliny the naturalist not of Pliny the
letter writer that we are speaking — Of all vices impurity is one of the most
detestable (Invert this sentence and punctuate) — it was work work work
from morning till night.

trust on and think to-morrow will repay
to-morrows falser than the former day
lies worse and while it says We shall be blest
with some new joys cuts off what we possess'd
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'S Aurenge Zebe, act iv.

(These eight lines Macaulay said were not surpassed in Lucretius.)

212 LITERARY STYLE.

LESSON XX.

IDIOMATIC, CLEAR, STRONG SENTENCES. — BEAUTY IN SENTENCE
STRUCTURE. — THE PERFECT SENTENCE.

Every good writer has much idiom. It is the life and spirit of language ; and
none ever entertained an apprehension that strength and sublimity were to be
lowered by it. — WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR.

Of all the qualities which are to be desired in the character of prose, the fore-
most is lucidity. To be clear, open, manifest, transparent, is a virtue of discourse,
not merely inasmuch as it removes obstructions from the path of the attentive
mind, but because it imparts positive pleasure — it lifts the reader, it bears him as
on wings. It has justly been said of Macaulay, that though no one ever had to read
a sentence of his twice to find out what he meant, yet many a time have his sentences
been re-read for the sake of the positive pleasure which they afford by their lucidity.
— PROFESSOR JOHN EARLE.

Unless the writer has grace, enabling him to give some aesthetic charm to his
representation, were it only the charm of well-arranged material and well-constructed
sentences, he will not do justice to his powers, and will either fail to make his work
acceptable, or will very seriously limit its success. — LEWES.

Sentences, whether Loose or Periodic, Long or Short,
must be pure in their construction, clear in their meaning,
energetic in their expression, and graceful in their flow.

Pure Sentences are grammatically accurate, and true to
the genius of the English tongue ; that is, idiomatic (from
a Greek word meaning one's own). To write in the idiom
of a language is to employ its characteristic modes of
expression. A man may use correct, but not idiomatic
English. Thus, // wearies me of your talk, a literal trans-
lation of the Latin Tcedet me sermonis tui, is grammatical,
but not in accordance with our idiom. The idea is ex-
pressed in English by I am weary of your talk. So, by the
English idiom, only transitive verbs can take a genuine

BEAUTY IN~ SENTENCE STRUCTURE. 21$

passive. "He is gone " (elegant French) ; "He was now
advanced within ten miles of the Sambre " (a translator's
rendering of Caesar's elegant Latin), — are not regarded
as idiomatic by the best English writers. He has gone is
the elegant English equivalent of // est parti. Idioms
cannot be translated word for word, because they reflect
the mental peculiarities of races.

False syntax and foreign grammar are alike impure.
Their use constitutes Sol'ecism (so called from the town of
Soli in Cilicia, where a barbarous Greek was spoken).

The solecisms that disfigure conversation are due partly to igno-
rance, partly to carelessness. They have been styled "respectable
bad grammar," and are condoned by a slatternly speaking element of
society. But no environment can render grammatical errors tolerable ;
they vulgarize alike the illiterate speaker and the college graduate.
There is but one way to rid discourse of such blunders, and that is
faithful and systematic study of the various grammatical points on
which knowledge is obscure, until touch becomes certain.

The everyday solecisms that soil otherwise refined lips are dis-
cussed in the two following lessons ; but the student of Greek and
Roman authors, accustomed to an exact rendering of the foreign
idioms, may further consider Professor Morley's statement, that " clas-
sical training is more aptly calculated to destroy the qualities of good
writing and fine speaking than any other system that could have been
contrived."1

Clear Sentences. — Two kinds of sentences are defi-
cient in clearness ; those whose meaning is unintelligible
(obscure sentences), and those whose meaning is suscep-
tible of more than one interpretation (ambiguous sen-
tences). Words that obscure or double the sense have

1 For numerous illustrations of bungling Greek English, consult the trans-
lations of the Epistles in the Revised Version of the New Testament.

214 LITERARY STYLE,

already been discussed ; lack of clearness in the construc-
tion or arrangement of the words remains to be inves-
tigated.

Obscure Constructions are the Result of Loose Think-
ing or Learned Stupidity. With writers who pretend to
instruct others, but are themselves destitute of. the first
great essential to success, — clear vision of the subject
taught, — obscurity is inevitable. The fault is also com-
mon among dealers in long-spun, "raveling" sentences,
with frequent change of scene and subject ; and among
authors who affect parentheses as the carriers of confus-
ing information.1 This kind of obscurity is apparent in
the following instance from Saintsbury : —

"The age of English prose which opens with Dryden and Tillotson (the
former being really entitled to almost the sole credit of opening it, while Til-
lotson has enjoyed his reputation as a stylist and still more as an originator of
style at a very easy rate) produced, with the exception of Swift and Dryden
himself, no writer equal in genius to those of the age before it ; but the talent
of the writers that it did produce was infinitely better furnished with command
of its weapons, and before the period itself had ceased, English prose as an
instrument may be said to have been perfected."

1 Obscurity may be intentional. History preserves the name of a gram-
marian, Lycophron of Chalcis, who declared that he would hang himself if he
found anyone able to understand his verses on the prophecy of Cassandra.
The obscurity of this " Dark Poem " is so dense as to have resisted all attempts
to clear up its circumlocutions, unusual constructions, strange words, and far-
fetched conceits. In the time of Livy, there was a school of rhetoric at Rome
whose object was to educate in the technic of obscurity. Pupils were taught
to frame sentences that were intelligible to no one. Some moderns are not
above this trick. "Longest of all," said Schopenhauer, "lasts the mask of
unintelJigibility ; but this is only in Germany, where it was introduced by
Fichte, perfected by Schelling, and carried to its highest pitch in Hegel.
Nothing is easier than to write so that no one can understand."

BEAUTY IN SENTENCE STRUCTURE. 21$

The attempt to force a passage through this sentence illustrates
the aptness of Dr. Holmes's figure, "One has to dismount from an
idea and get into saddle again at every parenthesis."

Adverbs out of Place. — The meaning of a sentence is
often obscured by misplacing such adverbs as only, always,
etc. In this sentence from the " Spectator," - — " By great-
ness, I do not only mean the bulk of any single object,
but the largeness of a whole view," — only, as it stands,
modifies the verb mean, as if the author intended to say
he did something more than mean. Doubt is removed
by altering thus : " I mean not only," etc. The sense in
each of the following sentences depends on the position of
the adverb only : —

Only I, or I only, am going to the corner (the others will remain
at home).

I am only going to the corner (I will not laugh, talk, see, or hear,
on the way). An inconceivable case, and yet a common statement.

I am going only to the corner (no farther).

I am going to the corner only (that is all that I am going to do.
I will do nothing when I reach the corner. I have no object in view).

Sometimes a peculiar arrangement produces ludicrous combina-
tions : " The learned professor will lecture on the landing of the
Pilgrims at the Academy next Monday." — "Andrews was recently
discharged from the position which he had held for eleven years on
account of his passion for strong drink." All such sentences would
be ambiguous if the secondary meaning were not absurd.

Ambiguity, by a faulty arrangement of words or
clauses, leaves the reader in doubt between two mean-
ings ; as, " D's fortune is equal to half of E's, which is ten
thousand dollars." (Does E's fortune, or half of it, amount
to ten thousand dollars ?) — " The State has a right to
impose restrictions on the mothers of young children

2l6 LITERARY STYLE.

employed in factories. (Who are employed in factories,
— the mothers, or the children ?)

When a word or words are introduced between the
parts of a sentence in such a way that they may be con-
strued either with what precedes or with what follows
them, they are said to squint (look at two things at once).
In the following sentence, the italicized words squint (in
French, en louchant) : " Not only does imagination render
to us copies of things remembered, tinder the guidance of
description, it constructs more or less accurate representa-
tions of things reported by others." A semicolon before
the squinting adjunct would throw it with the second
member ; after it, with the first. Swift's sentence, " The
Romans understood liberty at least as well as we," is
capable of two different interpretations ; viz., " Liberty,
at least, the Romans understood as well as we," and "The
Romans understood liberty as well, at least, as we."

The ancient oracular responses were designedly ambiguous. In
his " Dialogues of the Gods," Lucian makes Juno, in a quarrel with
Latona, reflect upon Apollo, who, she says, has " set up his prophecy
shops, one at Delphi, and cheats the people who come to consult him
with his enigmas and double-entendres, which can be turned into
answers to the question both ways, so that he can never be proved
wrong." The best example of ambiguity in literature is the response
obtained by Pyrrhus when he consulted the oracle regarding his
prospects of success in the war with Rome. The lines in Latin are, —

" Aio te ^Eacida Romanes vincere posse
Ibis redibis nunquam in bello peribis."

The ambiguity is preserved in this translation : —

" Pyrrhus the Romans shall I say destroy

You will go you will return never in war you will fall."

BEAUTY IN SENTENCE STRUCTURE. 21?

The original lines were unpunctuated, so that nunquam {never) squints,
looking with one eye at return, with the other at fall.

Perspicuity is a Relative Quality of Style. The

clearness of a sentence depends largely upon the mental
capacity of the person who hears or reads it. It is best,
however, not to push plainness to an extreme. Not only
is conspicuous simplicity likely to give offense ; but, said
Professor Channing, "to be universally intelligible is not
the highest merit. A great mind cannot, without injurious
constraint, shrink itself to the grasp of common passive
readers. We delight sometimes in long sentences, in
which a great truth, instead of being broken up into
numerous periods, is spread out in all its proportions, and
flows like a full stream with a majestic harmony that fills
at once the ear and soul."

Strong or Energetic Sentences are sentences calculated
to stimulate the attention, excite the imagination, and
rouse the emotions. To accomplish these objects, a sen-
tence must be a sincere utterance of thought or feeling.
"Unless," says Lewes, "a writer has sincerity, urging him
to place before us what he sees and believes as he sees
and believes it, the defective earnestness of his presen-
tation will cause in us an imperfect sympathy." Clear-
ness and precision are prerequisites to strength ; confusion,
inexactness, and redundancy, are fatal to it.

The strong writer is concise ; that is, he employs the
smallest number of words that will clearly convey his
thoughts ; he is never verbose, he never tarries on the road
to a climax. Whately compares a concise discourse to a
well-packed trunk, which contains much more than at first
sight it appears to do ; but a brief discourse is like a

2l8 LITERARY STYLE.

trunk half-full, short because it is scanty. Terseness, or
elegant condensation, not brevity, is a prime essential to
energy. It does not result from mere omission, but may
be secured by artistic compression, often implying the
remodeling of a sentence, and even the employment of
different words to express the thoughts.

Energetic Arrangement. — The grammatical order of
words is not always the strongest. Rhetoric, having in
view powerful impression, determines the emphatic places
in every sentence, and assigns to these places words
that deserve special distinction. The most conspicuous
positions for such words are at the beginning and the
end ; as, " The stag at eve had drunk his fill " (the poet
desired to direct attention to the subject at once ; other-
wise, he would have written, " At eve, the stag had drunk
his fill "). — " The wages of sin is death."

Further, the place after an adverb, an adverbial clause,
or a call to attention, at the beginning of a sentence, is
emphatic. In the following period, " Behold, now is the
appointed time," now, the first word mentioned after the
arrest of attention, is singularly forceful. All weak and
characterless words must be kept out of these three em-
phatic places.

Under the law of emphatic position, the predicate sometimes
occupies the first place; as, "The manner of this divine efficiency,
being so far above us, we are unable to conceive." The force of the
arrangement, Great is Diana of the Ephesians, Spencer attributes to
the impressive associations aroused by the utterance of the word great,
and the readiness of the imagination to clothe with high attributes
whatever follows. If Diana of the Ephesians precedes, it is conceived
in the ordinary way, with no reference to greatness; and when the
words is great are added, the conception has to be remodeled. Effect
is thus gained by placing first all words denoting quality or condition

BEAUTY nV SENTENCE STRUCTURE. 2 19

of subject. Such an arrangement precludes the formation of a concrete
image in the mind until the materials out of which it is to be made
have been presented. Hence the advantage of the English order, a
black horse, over the French order, a horse black (un cheval noir).
Hence the rhetorical force of the periodic sentence.

The Adverb may occupy the First Place, or may close
the Sentence. King Agrippa, moved by the eloquence of
Paul at Caesarea, cried, "Almost thou persuadest me to
be a Chjistian." Here the whole force of the thought is
in the adverb almost ; and Paul, realizing this, framed his
reply accordingly : " I would to God, that not only thou,
but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and
altogether such as I am." On leaving England to attempt
the reestablishment of the Bonaparte dynasty, Louis Na-
poleon remarked to the poet, " Good-by, Mr. Landor ; I
go to a dungeon or a throne." And the poet replied,
" Good-by, Prince ; if you go to a dungeon, you may see
me again ; if to a throne, never."

In these sentences, the adverbs are strong words, and occupy the
positions their importance demands. In regard to the position of the
adverb not in negative questions, some grammarians have taught that
it cannot properly come before the nominative, when such case stands
after the verb, on account of an interrogation ; that no word should be
interposed between the subject and the verb. On this principle, the
order Am I not ? is preferable to Am not I ? — May ive not say ? to May
not ive say ? The governing rhetorical principle, however, is a broader
one, and involves the placing of the adverb not where it will be most
effective, most harmonious, and best reflect the sense. In God's ques-
tion to Joshua, " Have not I commanded thee?" the emphasis is on
the pronoun. The following, of Carlyle's, is weak : "I said that Imagi-
nation wove this Flesh-Garment ; and does not she ? "

Coincidence of Rhetorical and Grammatical Subject. —

Every sentence should convey one leading thought. This

22O LITERARY STYLE.

leading thought, the principal thing spoken of, consti-
tutes the rhetorical subject of the sentence. Vigor is
heightened by making this rhetorical subject identical
with the subject of the leading verb, and assigning the
double-natured subject to one of the three emphatic places.
In the sentence, " It is a very harmless indulgence of
sentiment to fling epithets at Cromwell," to fling epithets
at Cromwell is the true rhetorical subject. This leading
idea is expressed by the grammatical subject also, if the
sentence be rearranged as follows : " Flinging epithets at
Cromwell is a very harmless indulgence of sentiment."

It is not always possible to effect this correspondence
of subjects, which adds much to directness and vivacity.
In complex sentences, the rhetorical subject should be
placed in the main period rather than in the subordinate
clause.

The student should remember that in proportion as a
composition has energy, it commands respect. The feel-
ing awakened in the mind by power in style is similar to
that called forth by the perception of sublime energy in
external nature. Hence it has been said that the highest
energy in discourse will not suffer reading, " because there
is a want of spontaneous and immediate impression of per-
fect and impassioned connection with the audience, and
the occasion of free reciprocal action between speaker and
listener, which cannot be wholly overcome." This springs
from the fact that rhetoric is based on ethics, the nomo-
thetical science that has to do with the mutual relations
of men (p. 20).

Perfect Sentences are not only pure, precise, clear,
euphonious, and strong ; they possess in addition rhetor-
ical grace (or ease of flow) and rhetorical tone (or the

THE PERFECT SENTENCE. 221

embodiment of lofty sentiment). In other words, they
express beauty in the highest degree, — in matter as well
as in manner.

Beauty implies that complete adaptation, heretofore
described (p. 39), — of diction and style to theme, as
merry or solemn, familiar or dignified, ludicrous or pa-
thetic ; and of theme to occasion and audience. The
fitting of style to theme involves a relation between the
sound of the words and the sense — the music of compo-
sition. However well chosen these words may be, if they
are unskillfully arranged, the music is lost.

Rhythm or Cadence is order in the distribution of
sounds, the alternation of accented and unaccented syl-
lables (of arsis or stress, and thesis or depression) at such
intervals as to produce an agreeable rise and fall of tone.
In prose it implies variety ; rising rhythms ascending from
unaccented syllables to those that are accented, falling
rhythms the reverse. It is natural for the cadence to fall
at the end of a sentence, the temporary resting place both
for mind and ear.

Writers as sensitive as George Eliot to cadence effects are rhyth-
mical. In the harmonious structure of periods, no author, ancient or
modern, surpasses Cicero. It was a feature which he regarded as ot
the utmost importance to the effect of a composition, and to insure the
perfection of which, he spared no labor. Indeed, his countrymen gen-
erally were more thorough in their investigation of this subject, and
more careful in their observance of the rules pertaining thereto, than
are the most polished of modern writers. Not only was their language
susceptible of more melodious combinations than ours, but their ears
were more delicately attuned, and were thus the means of affording
them livelier pleasure from a well-rounded period. " I have often,"
says Cicero, " been witness to bursts of acclamation in the public
assemblies when sentences closed musically j for that is a pleasure

222 LITERARY STYLE.

which the ear expects." Such expectation banishes from the last and
most emphatic place a series of short unaccented words.

" A prose sentence," said Lowell in the essay on Milton's " Areo-
pagitica," " only fulfills its entire function when, as in some passages
of the English Version of the Old Testament, its rhythm so keeps time
and tune with the thought or feeling, that the reader is guided to
the accentuation of the writer as securely as if listening to his very
voice. The fifth chapter of the Book of Judges is crowded with these
triumphs of well-measured words. Are we not made to see as with our
eyes the slow collapse of Sisera's body, as life and will forsake it, and
then to hear his sudden fall at last in the dull thud of ' he fell down
dead,' where every word sinks lower and lower, to stop short with the
last?"1

Rhetorical Grace, the crowning characteristic of genius,
implies ease of execution, and sustained, as opposed to
fitful power. It is prejudiced by crudity, eagerness, ab-
ruptness, ill balance of related clauses and members, and
all suspension of the sense. What is known as the split-
ting of particles, or the separation of prepositions from the
nouns they govern, causes unpleasant suspense, and hence
is ungraceful ; as, " Socrates was invited to, and Euripides
entertained at, his court."

The Separation of the Components of the Infinitive by
a word or series of words is not only aesthetically ugly,
but also an offense against philology. To became a sign
of the English infinitive about 1350, taking the place of
the termination n. To have is as much one thing, and
as inseparable by modifiers, as the original form Jiabban, or
the Latin habere. Philology condemns the split infinitive
to greatly love, as much as it would am bene are in Latin.

1 It is deficiency in such rhythm, supplemented by indifference to the
general laws of good English, that has interfered so markedly with the suc-
cess of the Revised Version of the Old and New Testaments.

THE PERFECT SENTENCE. 22$

The inelegance of such suspension is illustrated in the
following sentence : " Will some medical brother inform
me whether it is ethical, when a physician is attending a
patient, for another physician to, either alone or in com-
pany with his wife, visit the family, and inquire into the
treatment ? "

Anacoluthon (not following) is the name that describes
a third violation of grace ; viz., the abrupt passing in the
same sentence from one construction to another. Thus,
in the "Vicar of Wakefield," "My farm consisted of
about twenty acres of excellent land, having given a hun-
dred pounds for my predecessor's good will."

Anacoluthon is warranted only by a strength of passion that oblit-
erates all realization of grammatical coherence ; under such circum-
stances, it becomes highly rhetorical. In the "Merchant of Venice,"
Antonio, angered by the sneers of Shylock, exclaims :

"I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friend !

But lend it rather to thine enemy ;
Who if he break, thou may'st with better face,
Exact the penalty."

And Shylock notices the anacoluthon : —

" Why look you, how you storm ! "

Unity. — Finally, the beautiful sentence must have
unity, must be restricted to a single principal thought,
which, ought to be expressed in the main proposition.
One leading subject at a time is all the mind can profit-
ably contemplate ; when "more are introduced, the atten-
tion is distracted, and a weak and confused impression

224 LITERARY STYLE.

produced. This point has been illustrated in the case of
long sentences heretofore quoted.

Loose writers frequently violate this principle of beauty by append-
ing relative clause to relative clause until the effect on the mind is as
confusing as that of the rotating circles of a chromatrope. Thus : —

"There is hardly a railroad corporation in the Northwest which squeezes
from the farmer or the forwarder a toll which is augmented to meet the
demands of an enormously inflated capital, which has not shared its spoils
with the sharp lawyer who now prates so glibly about the prostration of
industry, whose causes he has so largely contributed to."

QUESTIONS.

Explain and illustrate what is meant by idiom. What name is
given to the use of impure constructions? What are Gallicisms?
(French words or idioms.') Characterize the common solecisms of
society. How should a foreign language be translated?

What two kinds of sentences are deficient in clearness ? State the
source of obscure constructions. What is the effect of parentheses?
What adverbs are commonly misplaced ? Illustrate the different posi-
tions only may occupy in a sentence, and the differences of meaning
depending on these positions. Define ambiguity. Explain the squint-
ing construction. Illustrate the ambiguity of an ancient oracular
response. What is the objection to being universally intelligible?

State the requisites to energetic sentence structure. Explain the
difference between conciseness and brevity. What is terseness ? How
may it be secured in a sentence that will not, as it stands, bear the
omission of a single word ? How does rhetoric improve on the gram-
matical order of words ? State the three emphatic places in a sentence.
What is the advantage of placing the predicate in the first place?
Why is black horse a preferable order to horse black ? When is an ad-
verb emphatic in the first place? in the last place? State the principle
governing the position of not in negative questions. What is the
effect of a coincidence of the grammatical and the rhetorical subject ?
Why is the highest energy in discourse not attainable by a reader ?

Define a perfect sentence. Show how beauty must characterize
the sentiment. What is rhythm? Who excel in it? What did

CKITICISM. 22$

Cicero say of it? Give Lowell's idea of a perfect prose sentence.
Define rhetorical grace. Explain and illustrate splitting of particles ;
the split infinitive ; anacoluthon. Why is the separation of the com-
ponents of the infinitive unphilological ? When only is anacoluthon
justifiable? Sum up the principles governing the formation of perfect
sentences. Can you suggest any general practices that tend to the
acquisition of elegance, or beauty of style ? (Cultivation of the taste
by intimacy with what is beautiful in literature ; the study of art ',
which develops a sense of symmetry and propriety ; the cultivation of
music, which creates an ear for rhythmic prose j and exercise under
judicious supervision.)

EXERCISE.

Criticise the following extracts.

Explain any violations of the essential elements of style that may
occur, referring each error to its proper class. Observe whether the
words employed are pure Saxon or not, and to what extent the author's
meaning has, by his choice between the Saxon and Franco-Latin,
gained or lost in impressiveness.

With regard to the number of words, notice to what extent energy
has been affected by the concise or diffuse mode of expression.

In the structure of the sentences, notice the position which the
clauses occupy, whether the order is regular or inverted, and to what
extent this has contributed to the development of the sense intended.
Notice, also, whether the cadence, or close of the sentences, is agree-
able or otherwise.

Classify each sentence with regard to structure.

To, just at the present time, accuse eclectics of ignorance is decidedly
inopportune. — On attempting to extract the bullet, the patient rapidly began
to sink. — As a result of this sort of proceeding, both young A and B, and
the father of each of them, has been to see me. — Please excuse my absence
yesterday, as I was consulting a doctor for insomnia during the class hour.
— And he charged him to tell no man: but go and shew thyself to the priest
(Luke v. 14). — One doth not know what is going to happen (compare on
dity man sagf). — That occurred [previous or previously] to my going to
Paris. — It irks me to see such a perverse disposition. — This paper has the
largest circulation in the United States. — La Diane des Ephesiens est une
grande Deesse ! Vive la grande Diane des Ephesiens ! — (French Bibles.'} —
One species of bread, of coarse quality, was only allowed to be baked

QUACK. RHET. — 15

226 LITERARY STYLE.

{Alison). — We could see the lake over ihe woods and that the river made
an abrupt turn southward {Thoreau}. — The beaus of that day used the
abominable art of painting themselves as well as the women {D* Israeli}.

Miss Edwards, Ph.D., LL.D., and L.H.D., lectured, with stereopticon
views, at Chickering Hall, with a musical diction, her broken left arm in a
sling, on Egypt, five or six thousand miles or four or five months away {Arew-
York Daily}. — To place such a large amount of property on the market
without restriction, to be controlled entirely by circumstances, adverse or
favorable, which may arise at or before the time of sale, is a risk which the
owners cannot afford to take, who have determined to meet the case in a man-
ner which they trust will be 'satisfactory and approved of {Newspaper).

" Four ushers led the way, followed by four bridesmaids, dressed in
white satin, and carrying in their hands bouquets of roses, and two little
girls — Sadie Allen and Bessie Williams — dressed in white mull trimmed
with lace."

" It contained a warrant," says Swift, " 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."

At the lower end of the hall is a large otter's skin stuffed with hay,
which his [Sir Roger's] mother ordered to be hung up in that manner, and
the knight looks upon with great satisfaction, because it seems lie was but
nine years old when his dog killed him {Addisoii}. — This work in its full
extent, being IIOT.V afflicted with an asthma, and finding the powers of life
greatly decreasing, he had no longer courage to undertake {Johnson}.

It only cost a dollar. — I was too young to properly appreciate Eton
{Payn}. — These men have pled for extension of freedom {Kae}. — Who
he is going 'to shoot with his pistol, who can tell? To many that Sunday
was the last of any they should pass on earth {Thackeray}. — An eagle
sits with white wings folden {Buchanan}. — Snuff or the fan supply each
pause of chat {Pope}. — Winton knew that he was as likely, if not more
so, to be foreign minister than the duke {Oliphant}. — My son is going to
be married to I do not know who? { Goldsmith.'}

General Thomas, one of the division commanders under General Grant,
who ordered the charge, relates the following incidents. — I do not know as I
will be there. — If this day shall happen to be Sunday, this form of prayer
shall be used, and the fast kept on the day following. — In their prosperity,
my friends shall never hear of me; in their adversity, always. — We came to
our journey's end at last with no small difficulty, after much fatigue, through
deep roads and bad weather. — The wise man is happy when he gains his
own approbation; the fool, when he recommends himself to the applause
of those above him (institute balance). — Force was resisted by force, valor

CRITICISM. 227

opposed by valor, and art encountered or eluded by similar address. — About
1852 he married Elizabeth Barstow, a poetess, and obtained a position in
the New-York Custom House (Dr. Thomas'}. — A man does not lose his
mother now in the papers. — Some philosophies imply a denial of the soul's
immortality. Pantheism (that is, such immanence of God in the world and
the human spirit as neglects or does away the distinction between them, so
that God becomes identified with the world as one whole) does so {Samuel
Davidson : here the parenthesis outweighs the main sentence, and reduces it
to insignificance). — Besides, some of us are satisfied with, and warmly ap-
plaud, the drink prepared from simple oatmeal {Contemporary Review}.
— Rose Bradwardine gradually rose in Waverley's opinion {Scott).

There is at least one admittedly pure table water, the Apollinaris, com-
ing from a spring in Germany, which can be found everywhere {Medical
Journal}. — In some places, people could not see to read common print
in the open air for several hours together. — The I-believe-of-Eastern-origin
monosyllable "bosh" means utter nonsense. — Passengers are earnestly
requested not to hold conversation with either conductor or driver. — The
next step was to apprise Mary of the conspiracy formed in her favor ; and
this they effected by conveying their letters to her, by means of a brewer that
supplied the family with ale, through a chink in the wall of her apartment
{Goldsmith' 's History of England}. — It is better to be pauper in opere suo
than rich with borrowed funds {Vinet}. — A small painting of Swinburne
shows him a slim-faced, wild-eyed youth, with long hair, yellow I believe
the color was, he has now none at all, falling over his neck, and flying
out from his face ( College Essay}. — It is a mystery which we firmly believe
the truth of, and humbly adore the depth of {Hooker}. — Cowper was intus et
in cute an Englishman, and his poetry contains the refined essence of John
Bullism ( Gilfillan}. — Of these, so far as they have not, with the disciples
of literary incuria, let style go to the winds altogether, Mr. Carlyle was the
chief {Saintsbury}. — For fully three months a young girl of high social
connections, has, it is claimed, been completely under the influence of a
vitaphist, as this Western hypnotist defines himself (New- York Daily}.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Professor Bascom's " Philosophy of Rhetoric." On energy and
elegance, Archbishop Whately's "Elements of Rhetoric," p. 183;
Professor Hunt's " Studies in Literature and Style," and " Representa-
tive English Prose." For a melodious diction, exhibiting a prepon-
derance of short words, read the speeches of John Bright.

228 LITERARY STYLE.

LESSON XXI.

EVERYDAY BARBARISMS, SOLECISMS, AND INELEGANCES.

Careless speaking or slovenly writing is an insult to the public ; bad English
is a crime. — GEORGE BAINTON.

Learn the value of a man's words and expressions, and you know him. Each
man has a measure of his own for everything ; this he offers you inadvertently in his
words. He who has a superlative for everything, wants a measure for the great or
small. — LAVATER.

Common Misusages. — The two following lessons in-
clude certain violations of the principles of style that
have not already been discussed. As a physician qualifies
himself by the study of disease to recognize it in its most
insidious forms, and successfully to combat it, so the stu-
dent of rhetoric, in order to acquire a discriminating taste,
must familiarize himself with current objectionable forms ;
must learn what is incorrect or inelegant, so as to avoid
it in conversation and writing.

It is suggested that Lessons XXI. and XXII. be
interleaved with thin linen paper ; opportunity will thus
be afforded to file additional examples gathered from oral
and printed speech.

The article a is preferred before a word beginning with an
aspirate h, when the accent is on the first syllable ; an, when it is on
the second; as, "A history," but "An historian." In the case of
dissyllables, some good writers always use a ; as, " A hotel."

The definite article the must not be omitted before the titles
Reverend and Honorable ; nor is it polite to omit either title in a
formal introduction. Introduce as the Rev. Mr. Smith or the Rev.
Dr. Smith.

E VER YD AY BARBARISMS. 229

A as a preposition is preferred before English words ; per, its
Latin equivalent, should be followed by a Latin accusative. A dollar a
day, not per day ; Per diem; Per annum. The old English preposition
(a reduced form of on) appears in such words as afoot, ashore, ahead,
asleep ("fell on sleep," Acts xiii. 36); and is elegant before the
participle in the forms, " To set the clock agoing," " To go ^fishing,"
" To be long ^coming " (Bacon}, etc.

Addressing a letter is preferable to directing it.

Adjectives after intransitive verbs denote the state or quality
of the subject; as, "He arrived safe," i.e., he was safe on arrival.
" He arrived safely,''"' denotes his state or condition during the act of
arriving ; the adverb safely expresses the manner of the action.

Adjectives follow verbs of existing, seeming, and feeling ; as,
to feel bad,1 never badly, unless the reference is to a blind man begin-
ning to depend on his fingers. " The garden looks beautiful," because
a quality is predicated of the subject. The act of looking is performed
by the spectator ; he may look intently or longingly at the garden. So,
" A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, ."

In the forms, To speak loud or plain, To walk fast or slow, To
shine bright or dim, — loud, fast, etc., are old flat adverbs which
are preferred by many correct speakers to the forms in ly.

Adverbs like now, then, above, sometime, are often inele-
gantly used as attributive adjectives. Thus: "Nathaniel Greene was
born at Warwick, in the then Colony, the now State, of Rhode Island."
— " Her almost childhood." — " Those once boys of Ohio." — " The
above statement" (say, Foregoing statement, or Statement above).
The Latin adverbs quondam (former) and quasi (as it were) now play
the part of English adjectives: Quondam friend, Quasi argument.

Nouns as attributive adjectives. — A word is that part of speech
whose functions it performs. If the name of one thing be used to
qualify that of another, it virtually becomes an adjective. Thus dollar
is the name of a sum of money ; but when it describes the noun bill
(dollar bill), it is a true qualifier. By the English idiom, such an
adjective retains its singular form when limited by words denoting
plurality; as, ten-dollar bill (not dollars'), six-foot pole (not /<?£/),
twenty-foot house, forty-acre lot. The provincial combination teeth-
ache is as unidiomatic as would be feetball.

1 Bad in the sense of sick or severe (bad cold) is colloquial.

230 LITERARY STYLE.

All of them and Both of them are incorrect expressions. " Did
you ask for all of them ? " To ask for some of them would be pos-
sible, but not all of, out of, away from, from among, all (say, Them
all). There were ten of us is not equivalent to we (all) were ten. It
implies that us included at least eleven (say, Our party consisted of
ten). A Maryland paper deplores the fate of a man who was run over
by a train, and "had two of his legs cut off." The absurdity is
obvious.

Allow means to permit, not to admit or assent, as commonly
implied by its use in parts of New England and elsewhere : "He
allowed he was tired and hungry." Locke misuses the word in his
" Essay on the Human Understanding : " "I allow it might be brought
into a narrower compass."

Almost followed by a negative is condemned; as, "Almost no
profit." "Almost nothing" is inconceivable (say, Hardly anything).

Any is an adjective. Its use as an adverb in the sense of at all
is a colloquial solecism; as, "Are you hurt any?" — "He isn't any
better." Further, any does not mean indefinitely large ; as in the
sentence, "The fact that any number of newspaper reporters agree in
usage does not make the usage reputable." Anyhow is inelegant for
in any manner, case, or event.

Anticipate means to take beforehand, either literally, as when
we anticipate a person in doing something ; or figuratively, as when we
anticipate trouble, i.e., take it beforehand in imagination. In the
sense of expect or intend, it is a malaprop : "I anticipate going to
Albany to-morrow." I may anticipate pleasure in going.

Around implies rest ; it means on all sides ; as, " Around us lies
the enchanted land." Round has generally direct or remote reference
to rotating movement, as indicated in the expressions, To go round in
a circle, The longest way round, Round the world, There wasn't bread
enough to go rotmd.

Avail as an intransitive verb signifies to have efficacy ; as in the
sentence, " The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth
much." As a transitive verb, it means to be for the advantage of, and
requires some object ; as, " How shall skill avail you against dupli-
city?" Its use without a direct object is a vulgar solecism : " It gives
me pleasure to avail of your kind offer." — " Availing of the courtesy
of Mr. Smith, I send by him the letter referred to."

EVERYDAY BARBARISMS.
Avoid the Following Barbarisms: —

Underhanded for underhand.

Illy .

for ill.

Second/landed for secondhand.

Firstly

for first.

Offhanded* ) for offhand<

Fastly

for fast.

Offhandedly )

Doubtlessly

for doubtless.

Speciality for specialty. Preventative for preventive.

Rotatory for rotary. Educationalist for educationist.

Casuality for casualty. Jeopardize 2 for jeopard.

Prefer antiquary as a noun to antiquarian (adjective).

The use of balance in the sense of remainder is a common
impropriety ; as, "I cut part of my hay yesterday, and shall mow the
balance to-morrow if it does not rain." Balance means scales for
weighing, an equalizing weight or sum, and a state of equilibrium
(he lost his balance) .

To beau, for to escort, is vulgar. Servants have beausj ladies,
escorts,

I beg to say involves an improper ellipsis. " I beg leave to say"
is the correct form. Beg as an intransitive verb means to ask charity.

Beside, signifying by the side of, must not be confounded with
besides, meaning in addition to. To be beside one's self is to be out
of one ''s self (French). The mental condition described by the Greek
word paranoia (possession by a delusion) literally means beside one 's
mind or self.

Cut bias is preferable to cut on the bias; bias (literally squinting)
being adverb, as well as noun and adjective.

But that and But what (double conjunctions) are incorrectly used
by many for that; as, " To me there is no doubt but what taxidermy
came into being with such pristine pursuits as prehistoric tanning."

Can means to be able, and measures possibility. We can not do
what is physically, mentally, and morally impossible. Use may when
asking permission ; as, " May I go out this afternoon ; and, if so, can
I do anything for you ? "

Celebrity is renown, not a celebrated person ; as, in " Celebrities
of the century," " A celebrity at the bar."

1 Red-hand is preferable to red-handed. High-handed is correct.

2 Jeopardize, formed by affixing the Greek ize to the old English verb
jeopard, is a monstrosity. As well write -walkize, singize.

232 LITERARY STYLE.

Claim in the sense of assert is a common impropriety; as, " He
claimed that the Smith estate was worth five thousand dollars." We
may claim respect, that is, demand it by virtue of authority or right.

Condign means well-merited, not severe. More's condign
praise is as correct as the modern condign punishment. Note the
tautology of the following: " There was a parliamentary surrender to
save the plotters, big and little, from condign and most deserved
punishment."

Condone does not signify atone for, but merely to give up, or
forgive. It is incorrectly used in this sentence: "The abolition of
the income tax more than condones for the turmoil of a general
election."

Couple (copula, a link) implies two things of the same kind
connected, or taken together; a betrothed or married pair is a couple.
It is improperly used as a synonym of two things not joined, or having
no community of interest; as, "A couple of dollars," "A couple of
miles." In the nomenclature of field sports, two woodcock, snipe,
wild fowl, plover, rabbits, constitute a couple ; three, a couple and a
half. But two grouse, pheasants, partridges, quail, or hares, are
spoken of as a brace; three, as a leash.

Cunning is a much abused word. It comes from an Anglo-
Saxon root meaning to know, and is properly used in the sense of
dexterous, ingenious, sly, Q\ foxy ; not in that of attractive, small, or
piquant. Hence "a cunning little cup and saucer "does not come
within the range of possibility; and what "an awfully cunning little
turned-up nose " may be, must be left to a prominent New-York
Daily to explain.

Decimate means to take one tenth part of, to tithe. All authori-
ties condemn its use in the sense of destroy, as in the following:
" Next morning, a severe frost set in, and my field of turnips was
absolutely decimated; scarce a root was left untouched." During
the Civil War, regiments were often reported as having been deci-
mated (nearly annihilated) by the enemy's artillery.

Use deprecate (to pray against) to express deep regret, or desire
for the removal of, not condemnation; as, " He deprecated the repeal
of the High License Law."

Description means an account of characteristics, and is not a
synonym of kind or sort, as in the sentence, "We keep no goods of
that description."

EVERYDAY BARBARISMS. 233

Differ is followed by with in questions of opinion; by from in
all other cases. Different from is polite American ; different to, polite
English usage. (Analogy supports different to. We say, Averse to,
Inimical to, Contrary to, Disagreeable to, Discreditable to.) Different
than is vulgar.

Directly and Immediately are adverbs of time, and not con-
junctive adverbs, equivalent to as soon as. English usage approves
such locutions as, " Directly Mr. D'Israeli ceased speaking, Mr. Low
rose to oppose him." — " Immediately he left the house, the dog
became quiet."

Dry signifying thirsty, employed in Middleton's plays, Shake-
speare's " Tempest," and " The Compleat Angler," is now colloquial.

Each (used to designate the individuals of any number or numeri-
cal aggregate consisting of two or more) is singular, and a pronoun or
verb agreeing with it must also be singular ; as, " Let them depend
each on his own exertions," not their own.

So, several nouns preceded respectively by each, every, or no,
whether connected by and or not, require a singular verb and pronoun ;
as, " Every lancer and every rifleman was at his post."

Each other supposes two; one another, three or more: "The
disciples were commanded to love one another" not each other.

Either always implies two. It may mean one or the other, or
one and the other, each of two, both. Anyone should be substituted
for it in sentences like the following : " There have been three famous
talkers in Great Britain, either of whom would illustrate what I say."

" A farm on either side of the Merrimac " implies two farms, one
on one side of the river, one on the other. "A farm on both (two
together) sides of the Merrimac " implies one farm through which the
Merrimac flows.

As conjunctions, either and neither may be extended to any num-
ber of terms. Thus: " You will find in the Bible something for the
mind to grapple with, either in logic, in learning, or in imagination."

Empties is no longer applied to a river, which cannot be spoken
of as containing nothing so long as water continues to run in its
channel. Substitute discharges or flows into.

Equally as well is a solecism, as being equivalent to equally,
fust (nearly) as well, quite (entirely) as well, and almost as well, are
proper locutions.

Every, in such expressions as, " The man deserves every praise,"

234 LITERARY STYLE.

is-improper. Every means all the parts which compose a whole con-
sidered one by one, and should not be applied as above. So, " Every
pains," " Every confidence," " Every assistance," are alike erroneous.
Say, " The greatest pains, Perfect confidence, All possible assistance."

Every implies more than two; hence the expression, "On
every hand," involves an absurdity. Prefer On each or either hand,
or In every direction.

Ever SO means always so, or just the opposite of what is intended
by persons who say, " Ever so many." Carlyle is correct in this
sentence, " Sincere men of never so limited intellect have an instinct
for discriminating sincerity."

Except and Without are properly prepositions, and not synonyms
of the conjunction unless: "The date palm will not fruit without
[unless] its roots are well watered."

Existing truths should be stated in the present tense : " Colum-
bus discovered that the earth is round," not was, for it is as much a
fact to-day as at the time spoken of.

Expect {look forward to) in the sense of suppose is a malaprop ;
as, "I expect he went to Trenton yesterday." Suppose includes
expect, having reference to past, present, and future.

In fault means in error. At fault is applied by sportsmen to
hounds that are off the scent.

Female (producer') properly designates any animal of the weaker
sex. The use of the word for woman (defined by Skeat as " a grown
female") is universally condemned as "one of the most unpleasant
and inexcusable perversions of language." When we read in a morn-
ing journal that " a female has been found dead at the roadside," we
are puzzled to know whether the reporter means a woman, or some
she-brute. The application of the adjective female to what is sexless
is equally vulgar ; as, male and female reading rooms, female semi-
nary, female letter (De Qiiiticey), first-class female education (Cooper).

In Act v. sc. i, of "As You Like It," Touchstone, referring to
Audrey, admonishes William: "Therefore, you, clown, abandon the
society of this female, which in the common is woman.'1'' The stu-
dent is commended to the common.

Avoid the use of novel feminines in ess, like embroideress,
editress, millionairess, eldress (used by the Shakers), sweeperess,
(Thackeray). Such forms were once coined at pleasure: Captainess
(Sir Philip Sidney, of Stella), Turkess (Marlowe), Soldieress (Two
Noble Kinsmen), Fellowess (Richardson), Danceress (Prynne).

EVERYDAY SOLECISMS. 235

The first two and The two first are both idiomatic ; but the
first two is more in accordance with propriety, as the form is more
capable of extension. Thus : the first twenty is preferable to the
twenty first.

It is impossible to cut a thing in half ; say, In halves. Cutting
in two implies that two pieces result from the cutting ; cutting in
twos, a number of pairs. A company may divide into twos and threes,
— groups of two and groups of three persons.

Had better and Had rather, though anomalous forms, are still
idiomatic as equivalents of would better and would rather.

Hanged is preferred to hung when suspension by the neck is
implied; as, "The murderer was hanged." In Elizabethan as well
as in modern slang, proper discrimination is used ; " Speak, and be
hanged" (Timon of Athens).

Have got. — Get means to acquire. Got is therefore superfluous
in sentences like the following: "How much have you got in your
pocketbook ? "

Food is not healthy, but wholesome.

He of all others expresses a physical impossibility, as others
excludes the subject he. He cannot be taken out of, away from,
others in which he is not included. Say, He of all men.

Ilk is not a synonym of class or kind; it is really an adjective
meaning the same. Of that ilk has but one signification, viz., of that
same (estate) ; as in " Waverley : " " They were hastily picked up by
the Bailie, whose eyes are greeted with ' Protection by his Royal
Highness to the person of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq. , of that
//£/'" that is, of Bradwardine. Fellows of that ilk is meaningless.

Avoid the common error of placing a past infinitive after a
verb in a past tense, when that infinitive is intended to express an
action or state contemporary with the time of the first verb. "I
meant to have done it" should be, "I meant to do it." (Compare " I
wanted to go ; " not, " to have gone.") — " It was expected (Wednes-
day, the day of the fire) that his first act would have been [Tues-
day :] to have thrown water on the flames.1" [Monday ?] The present
infinitive denotes contemporary or future time ; the past infinitive, past
time. Have in mind the sense to be conveyed. Ought to have done
it, a double past, is the only exception ; it has become idiomatic,
because ought is both a past and a present form, and the distinction
of time can be made only by the infinitive. Thus : " You ought to do
it." — " You ought to have done it."

236 LITERARY STYLE.

For to as the sign of the infinitive, once elegant, is now vulgar.
" What went ye out for to see? " In the " Coventry Pageants," forto
is written as one word, " Abull us forto reyles " (able us for to release).

In our midst, for in the midst of us, is severely criticised on the
ground that we cannot possess a midst ; the English possessive, in its
modern use, being almost exclusively limited to the notion of property
(usage approves " a week's pay"). Old English writers used In the
midst.

This has not occurred in a year ; prefer, for a year.

Is being done is a comparatively new grammatical form as far as
general usage is concerned. It occurs sporadically in our literature for
more than a century ; but critics object to it on the ground that it is
unnecessary, and that there is "no passive form in English corre-
sponding to the progressive form in the active voice, except where it is
made by the participle in ing in a passive sense." It is at present
both more elegant and more idiomatic to say, " The house is building"
" Preparations are making," " The train is preparing,*"1 " A new class
is forming,'1'' than " The house is being built," etc.

It is me, a translation of the French phrase, " Cest moi" is as
unphilological as it is vulgar. English grammar prescribes the use
of the same case after as before active intransitive, passive, and
neuter verbs. Me is an old English dative and accusative form (now
classed together as objective), never a nominative. Before the imper-
sonal verbs thinks (Anglo-Saxon thyncan, " to appear") and seems, it
is a true dative. Methinks is equivalent to meseems j both mean it
seems to me. Those who condone // is me must, if consistent, tol-
erate it is us, these are tJiein, the stepping-stone to theni's them.

Lady. — The abuse of this word was characterized by Lowell as
" villainous." Lady is the feminine of lord. Both have the Anglo-
Saxon word hldf (loaf) in their composition. The hl&f-weard (con-
tracted, lord), loaf keeper, was the head of the house, the maintainer
of the law. His helpmeet was the hlcef-dige (afterward lefdi), the
bread kneader. The title eventually came to imply rank. Then the
women of England generally assumed it, rejecting that of gentle-
woman, for which Ruskin says he " does not blame them, provided
they claim not merely the title, but the office and duty signified by
it." That is, she who affects the title of lady must be a woman
of refined instincts, good breeding, and education.

Both here and in England, with a class of coarse plebeians, the

EVERYDAY INELEGANCES. 237

old English word woman (wife-man; man being originally of either
gender, like the Latin homo) is shunned as vulgar ; and a silly gen-
tility has come to apply the word lady to every adult human female.
Kitchen lady, wash lady, scrub lady, swill lady, are modern incom-
patibles. The climax of this disgusting abuse would seem to have
been reached by an English clergyman who recently advertised : " Two
fine Dandie Dimont pups, lady and gentleman ; also, very handsome
lady dog, same pedigree." But America goes to greater extremes ;
for we read in our newspapers of lady prize fighters, of lady barmaids,
and of the arrest of drunken ladies.

In this connection, we do well to remember that the word woman
was forever dignified and hallowed by our Saviour's use of it in
addressing his mother from the cross: "Woman, behold thy son!"
In this passage, woman is a translation of the Greek gunai, meaning
one who is not a man, without regard to age or station, married or
single state.

To those who object to lady friend as ambiguous or vulgar,
woman friend, or lady of my acquaintance, may be suggested.
Tennyson uses the exceptionable compound in "The Princess"
(" Lady friends from neighbor seats"); and Professor Earle prefers
lady authors to authoresses.

QUESTIONS.

Explain and illustrate the popular misuse of each of the following
words: Now and then, above and within. — Allow. — Anticipate. —
Ai> ail. — Bias. — Can and may. — Celebrity. — Claim. — Condign. —
Condone. — Couple. — Cunning. — Decimate. — Deprecate. — Directly
and immediately. — Dry. — Each other. — Either. — Empty. — Except
and without. — Expect. — Female. — Hung. — Ilk. — Lady.

Explain the incorrect or inelegant use in each of the following
locutions : Per week. — Direct a letter. — Smell sweetly and look badly.
— Twenty-five feet house. — Almost nothing. — Any better. — / beg to
say. — Different to. — Equally as well. — Every assistance. — Cttt in
half. — He of all others. — I meant to have done it. — /;/ our midst. —
// is me. — Is being done.

What barbarisms are to be avoided? Discriminate between beau
and escort ; beside and besides.

EXERCISE.

Point out inelegances and errors that may occur in the following
extracts, suggesting improved and correct forms : —

238 LITERARY STYLE.

This page looks shockingly. — Have you thought of availing of this priv-
ilege? — He will do it in a couple of years. — By the within letter, you will
see the quotations for wheat at Chicago. — The then ministry. — The then
known world. — He worked seven days out of the week. — I beg to inform
you that certain teachers of Newark propose to form an association. — His
kingdom now contained fourteen cities, beside numerous unwalled towns and
villages. — The hall is sufficiently roomy for twenty dancing couples. —
Either side of the avenue was lined with soldiers. — It was neither seen,
heard, nor felt. — The distance between each post was twenty feet. — The
"Argus " is run by a lot of female reporters. — They will never believe but
what I have been to blame. — The books are [selling or being sold]. —
Chaucer's wife was noted for her beauty ; but her sister was equally as hand-
some. — There are passages in Virgil's writings which would seem to show
that his greatest ambition would have been to have sung of the secrets of
nature. — I cannot excuse the remissness of those whose business it should
have been to have interposed their good offices.

There was a certain vague earnestness about him which qualified and
condoned the shrewd and sometimes jocular looks of his father {Madcap
Violet}. — His .manners were not always of the most amiable description
{Purnell}. — I should think myself fortunate if I could be admitted into your
service as house steward, clerk, butler, or bailiff, for either of which places I
think myself well qualified {Smollett}. — The ascetic rule of St. Basil, which
the monks follow, is very severe; no female, not even a cow or a hen, is per-
mitted to approach the holy hill {British Quarterly}. — I am equally an enemy
to a female dunce or a female pedant {Goldsmith}. — Great interest is arous-
ing in all parts of the country {New -York Times}. — "The Ladies of the
Reformation," by the Rev. James Anderson. — The strong point in the case
is, that two such committees could not have been appointed without it was
intended to make a sincere effort to settle differences {Mail}. — The then
gay land is maddened all to joy ( Thomson}. — Our sometime sister, now our
queen {Hamlet}. — One is inclined to treat Sir John Suckling off-handedly on
slight acquaintance {Louise Imogen Guiney}. — For a living room, yellow
will be found most satisfactory, especially if the room is illy lighted, or has a
northern exposure {Pittsburg Post}. — " Come live with me " sounds passion-
ately still through the dead cold centuries {Mrs. Browning). — All of them,
however, might be reconciled exactly with the very thing he had predicted
{Blackmore}. — The country does not need any tuition from Peffer, or his
ilk, on this subject {Mail and Express}. — On Monday night last, a gang of
petty burglars, who evidently have their abiding place in or near our midst,
plied their vocation in three or four different places in our village ( Quoted by
Professor Gilmore}.

EVERYDAY MIS US AGES. 239

LESSON XXII.

EVERYDAY MISUSAGES. — Continued.

Such as thy words are, such will thy affections be esteemed ; and such will thy
deeds as thy affections ; and such thy life as thy deeds. — SOCRATES.

How, it may naturally be asked, does it come to pass that cultivated men
can be found who still rail at grammar ? It is simply because they have never been
taught grammar in such a way as to open the mind and to implant in it a lifelong
gratitude for one of the sweetest of pleasures, — the pleasure which youth experiences
in discovering within itself that boundless power of comprehension which is awak-
ened in the mind by grammar rightly apprehended. — PROFESSOR JOHN EARLE.

The use of loan as a verb, equivalent to lend, is objectiona-
ble ; e.g., " to loan money."

Less should be used, when quantity is referred to, fewer when
number is considered : " There is less than a ton of coal in the bin,"
but " There were not fewer than two hundred persons in the hall."

Let's we see (let us we see) is a solecism which seems to have
support in New-England provincial usage. Lefs you and I go, a simi-
lar locution, bears the brand of vulgarity, as does also Lefs us go.

Let, from the Anglo-Saxon Icetan (to allow), is a transitive verb
signifying to grant possession for a compensation; hence, Apart-
ments to be let is preferable to Apartments to let. The former is
old usage, and at present the better. " The house is to be let for life
or years" (Quarks). — "This building to be let" (Cowper). For
sale, meaning to be sold, is rejected by fastidious persons for On sale.

Lie is a neuter verb, and means to rest, to be situate. Lay is an
active transitive verb, demanding an object. It signifies to place. To
lie is therefore to lay one"1* self, and to lay is to cause to lie ; hence
confusion of meaning, which, added to the fact that the preterit of lie
is identical with the present of lay, accounts for the frequent substitu-
tion of the parts of one of these verbs for those of the other by " all
ranks and conditions of men." " A look of immovable endurance
underlaid [lay] her expression" (Wilkie Collins}. — "Dapple had to
lay [lie] down on all fours before the lad could bestride him " (Dasenf).
Figuratively, we may lay down a principle or law. Christ laid down

240 LITERARY STYLE.

his life for the sheep. We lay plans, carpets, etc. We lie on the
grass, or lay ourselves on the grass.

Like he did is a solecism. Like is an adjective ; the adverb as is
required — as he did.

To locate is to establish in a place. In this country it has
acquired the meaning to determine the situation of. The use of the
verb in the intransitive sense of take up one^s residence is condemned
by good writers. We locate buildings, or the line of a railroad ; but
it is only the uncultured who ask, " Where are you located?"

Lots and Loads are colloquial exaggerations avoided by the re-
fined. A load is that which is carried or borne ; a lot is a distinct
portion, a piece of land, for instance. Neither means a large number
or amount, as in the expressions, Lots of money, Loads of fun.

Luncheon as a noun is regarded in some quarters as more elegant
than lunch, though lunch has the support of excellent authority.

You are mistaken, meaning you are in error, is idiomatic, but
not so elegant as you mistake. It really means you are taken mis or
•wrongly; that is, you are misapprehended. Shakespeare, in "Henry
IV.," uses, "If I mistake not." "You are mistaken1' is common in
Beaumont and Fletcher.

Most for Almost is an inelegant degradation; as, "Most every
kind of deception."

Mutual means reciprocal. What is interchanged is mutual (Latin
mutujis) . Mutual love is love reciprocally given and received. Mu-
tual is not a synonym of common. To speak of a mutual friend or
a mutual silence is grossly erroneous.

The substitution of myself for the personal pronoun I, as in
the form, " Mrs. Lovejoy and myself request the pleasure of your
company," etc. (signed in full by the writer), besides involving an
error in grammar, is snobbish in the extreme. Myself is properly
used in the nominative only in apposition with 7, and always for the
sake of emphasis ; as, "I had to go myself." In the objective, it is
either emphatic, or implies reversion of the action upon the agent act-
ing: " I will free myself." " Myself have spoke" is an Elizabethan
solecism, allowable only in verse ; it is virtually the equivalent of Me
have spoke. Among rustics, allusion is frequently made to the man of
the house as himself, in the nominative as well as in the objective ;
thus, " Himself has gone out."

Never is improperly supposed by some to be more emphatic than

E VER YD A Y MIS US A GES. 24 1

not. Never cannot be applied to events which, from the nature of
things, could have happened but once. " Washington was never born
in New York," is manifestly absurd.

Nice is from the Latin nescius (ignorant). Robert of Gloucester
(1280) uses the word in this sense: " For he was nyce and knowthe
no wisdome." In the "Coventry Pageants" it has the meaning of
foolish : " Woman (said the serpent to Eve), why was God so nise to
bid you?" etc. In Chaucer's time, the word described a harmless fool,
and meant daft. It afterward came to mean foolishly particular, then
precise, fastidious, dainty, discriminating, in which latter senses it is
now correctly used. But nice should not be employed as synonymous
with pleasant, agreeable; as, "A nice day," " A nice carriage," etc.
In " A nice distinction," " A nice point," the word is correctly used.

Nicely, thanks, is a common solecism. " How have you been
since I last saw you?" — " Nicely, thanks." Nicely is not equivalent
to well; moreover, if one lacks either time or inclination to say
" Thank you," it is now considered more polite to make no allusion
to thanks. Shakespeare repeatedly uses the monosyllable.

No one else but is inelegant. Say, No one else than, else being
equivalent to otJier.

Obnoxious is liable or exposed to. It has acquired the meaning
of offensive, which is objected to by critics. The word is correctly
used in obnoxious to criticism or to suspicion.

We live on a street, street being a city or village road, if, as is
generally the case, the road in question excludes the houses between
which it passes. Living /// a street, strictly speaking, implies the
encroachment of the building in which we live upon the public
highway.

Party (a group) and Individual are sometimes loosely substi-
tuted for man, woman, or person. " Are you the party who called
yesterday?" This is by no means a modern vulgarism. Ben Jonson
commits himself to it in " Volpone : " " My master's yonder. — Where?
— With a young gentleman. — That same's the party." Party has
a technical sense in legal documents, being there the Latin ablative
parte. It literally means a person on one side or of one part.

A noun or pronoun which is made to modify a participle must
be put in the possessive case; as, " I was surprised at the pupil V (not .
the pupil} studying so diligently." — " I have no objection to his going
to college" (not to him going to college).

QUACK. RHBT. — 16

242 LITERARY STYLE.

Passive verbs cannot properly govern the objective case ; as in
the sentences, " The servant was given a letter." — " He was caught
all the fish he could eat." The construction has been tolerated as
convenient, but is protested against by all who respect pure English.

Plenty is colloquially used as an adjective ; prefer plentiful.
" Berries are plentiful (not plenty) this summer."

Plurals. — Pair, brace, dozen, score, when preceded by a word
expressing number, take a plural like the singular: "Three pair of
gloves," not pairs. Plurals likeyfr//, quail, etc., express collections of
individuals, as in, " How many fish have you caught? " When sepa-
ration into species is to be denoted, such words take the regular plural ;
as, Dr. Smith's " Fishes of Massachusetts."

Compounds ending in ful form the plural regularly in s, like
handfuls, spoonfuls ; so tnouse traps, terra cottas, habeas corpuses.
Observe that addenda, memoranda, strata, effluvia, phenomena, and
errata, are plural forms ; avoid the common blunder of writing an
errata (for erratum), a phenomena (for phenomenon). Double titles
take double plurals ; as, Lords Commissioners, Knights Templars.

Post is not a synonym of inform, as in "well-posted man,"

Appropriate prepositions must follow certain words. A list of
a few common adjectives and verbs is here presented, together with
the prepositions properly used in connection with them : —

Abhorrent to. Arrive at, in.

Accompanied -with an inanimate object ; Attended -with an inanimate object ; by

by anything that has life. anything that has life.

Accuse of. Averse to, from.

Acquaint with. Believe in, on.

Adapted to, for, from (adapt a play for Capacity for.

our stage, from the French). Careless about, in.

Adjourn to a day ; at three o'clock ; for Caution against.

dinner- Charge on a person ; -with a thing.

Agree -with a person; to a proposition „ .... . , ..x

Compare with, in respect of quality ; to

from another ; upon a thing among f ., i t .,, .

ourselves ; in a belief. for the sake of lllust"tion.

Amuse with, by, at. Congenial to.

Analogy between (when two objects fol- Conversant with men ; with or in things.

low the preposition), to, with (when About and among are sometimes used.

one of the substantives precedes the Copy after, from.

verb)- Correspond with.

Angry with or at a person ; at or about Derogatory to.

a tning- Die of or from a cause ; by an instru-

Anxious about, for. rnent Of violence.

EVERYDAY MISUSAGES. 243

Disappointed of what we fail to obtain ; Profit by.

in what does not answer our expecta- Provide for or against.

tions, when obtained. Reconcile to (in friendship) ; it/if A (to

Entrance into. make consistent).

Expect of. Reduce under (subdue); to (in other

Expert in, at. cases).

Followed^. Relieve from or of.

Impatient of. Remonstrate with a person ; against a

Influence on, over, with. thing.

Live at, in, on. Search for, after, into.
Occupy by, with, in. • Seized of an inheritance ; by the cus-

Participate in. tomhouse officers ; with a fever.

Prefer, preferable to. Sold for ten dollars ; at auction.

Preference to, over. Speak for or against a case ; to or with

Prejudiced against. a person ; of, on, or about a subject.

Prejudicial to. Suitable to, for.

Prepossessed in favor of. Sympathize with.

The present participle, some grammarians hold, has no signifi-
cation of time; as in, " Pardon me for being so late yesterday." But
this is not so precise as, " Pardon me for having been so late yester-
day." The participle with having really implies a previous completion
of the being, action, or passion. " You must excuse me for being so
late " implies by usage that the lateness is contemporaneous with the
request for excuse.

Propose, to offer for consideration, is objected to as a synonym
of purpose. Macaulay wrote, " I purpose [not propose} to write the
history of England from the accession of King James II."

Pulpiteer implies contempt. Phillips Brooks, the newspapers to
the contrary, was not a pulpiteer, but, at the time of his death, the
greatest of American pulpit orators.

Raise is improper in the sense of increase; as in Raise the rent
or a salary. This malaprop occurs as early as 1600.

Real glad is a palpable solecism. Say, Very glad.

Shun the following redundancies (the unnecessary words are
italicized) : Consult with, Failed up. End tip, Where have you been
to ? Where are you going to ? Relapse back again, First of all, Both
alike (both, two together, implies union; alike, separation), Alongside
of, Next to, Opposite to, Rise up, Approve of, Continue on, Converse
together, Over again, Along with, Fainted dead away, Later on,
Latter end, Anxiety of mind, Widow woman, Appreciate in value
(appreciate means to rise in value; depreciate, to fall} , Throughout

244 LITERARY STYLE.

the whole country, Try (make) an experiment, From thence. The
introduction of a preposition after a transitive verb, once grammatical,
is now incorrect ; as in accept of, etc. In the " Jew of Malta," Marlowe
wrote, " Thus Bellamira esteems of gold." So, " I would seek unto
God," — " His servants ye are to whom ye obey."

Regalia means the emblems of royalty, and not the insignia of a
club or secret society.

The relatives that and which are used with the following dis-
criminations : —

That may refer both to persons and things ; so may whose, the
rule restricting it to persons being at variance with literary usage.

That denotes a close connection with its antecedent ; which marks
a distinct break. Hence which may stand for a whole clause or sen-
tence ; as, " At this critical moment, General Lepee was ordered to
charge with the horse grenadiers of the Guard ; which movement hav-
ing been performed," etc. Who or which is preferred with an explicit
antecedent; as, " My brother who is in Europe wrote that article."

Who or which is preferred to that when the relative is separated
from its verb or antecedent by intervening words, and made emphatic
by the separation: " There are many ladies who, were they possessed
of the means, would found such an institution."

Who or which is sometimes substituted for that to avoid tautoph-
ony and confusion: "He said that the person who accepted the
bribe," etc.

Scarcely relates to quantity, Hardly should be used in all other
cases: "Scarcely a bushel;" but, "I shall hardly reach home to-
night."

Seldom or never is inelegant. Say, Seldom if ever.

Sit and Set. — Sit is a neuter verb meaning to rest on the hips
and thighs, to occupy a seat. Set means to cause to sit, and requires
an object. Hens do not set, but sit, as in Bloomfield's " Farmer's
Boy:" "And sitting hens for constant war prepared." The farmer
sets brooding hens (places them on nests) ; then they sit. Coats and
dresses more properly sit than set. In the " Shoemaker's Holiday,"
Dekker wrote, " My coat sits not a whit the worse." To sit a horse is
an idiom ; on is understood. The sun sets in the sense of settles. Set,
verb intransitive, once meant to point out the position of; hence the
name of the hunting dog, setter.

So is preferable to as after a negative: " It is not nearly so cold
as it was."

EVERYDAY MISUSAGES. 245

Some for somewhat is colloquial : " He thought some of spending
the winter in Florida."

Somebody else's. — Good use has firmly established this form,
which, in taking the apostrophe and s immediately before the thing
possessed, follows the general rule for complexes. Somebody *s else is
equally elegant, unless the object possessed immediately follows, in
which case use the first form as a modifier. Thus : " The hat is some-
body's else ; " but always " Somebody else's hat." Whose else follows
the general rule : " Whose else can it be?"

Stop is sometimes improperly used in the sense of stay ; as, " Mr.
Jones is stopping at the Bates House." Stop means to cease to go
forward, and implies a brief arrest of motion, a momentary act;
as, " This train stops fifteen minutes at Springfield."

Such is an adjective pronoun, and is not correctly used in the sen-
tence, " Did you ever see such a beautiful vine ? " where it has the
force of the adverb so. Say, So beautiful a vine. Usage allows such
before an adjective followed by a plural : Such dangerous enemies. But
it is always better to be grammatical as well as idiomatic ; as in the
following sentence: " He finds daily cause to repent of having pro-
voked enemies so dangerous.'1'1

These kind and Those sort are everyday solecisms, arising from
the presence of a plural noun after kind and sort; as, " I don't like
these kind of gloves, show me those kind."

Though (old English thogh} means notwithstanding, in spite of
the fact that, as in the sentence, " Though I should die with thee, yet
will I not deny thee." It is incorrectly used for if in expressions like
the following : " I feel as though I were going to be sick." — " It seems
as though it would rain." If, equivalent to in case that, introduces a
conditional statement. "You look as if you held a brow of much
distraction" {Winter's Tale*), means, You look in the same manner
that you would look, supposing that you held a brow, etc. And this is
what Shakespeare intended to convey.

To-morrow is, or will be ? — A question often asked, and easily
answered by putting this one in turn, Yesterday is, or was, Tuesday ?

Transpire (literally to breathe through} means to become known,
not to happen. "It has not yet transpired who was nominated" is
correct.

Try should be followed by a verb in the infinitive : " Try to exert
yourself." Avoid the colloquialisms, "Try and do it," "Come and see

246 LITERARY STYLE.

me," imitations of classical usage. In the past, and certainly cannot
take the place of to. / tried and did it is hardly the equivalent of
/ tried to do it.

Very pleased, very satisfied, very disappointed, for -very tmich
pleased, etc., if not unexceptionable English, still have high support.

Vocation is a calling or profession ; avocation, the business which
(avocates) calls aside, or away from one's occupation, as pleasures,
etc. Alfred the Great divided the day into three parts ; viz., eight
hours for sleep, eight hours for vocations, and eight for avocations.
Modern writers often fail to make this distinction, which is observed
in the following sentence: "Heaven is his vocation j therefore he
counts all earthly employments avocations.'1''

Good writers prefer backward, afterward, \.<yward, etc., to the
collateral genitive forms in s (es), backwards, etc. In Anglo-Saxon,
the form toiveard was an adjective ; toweardes, a preposition. No
such distinction is now made.

A little ways is colloquial for a little way.

Whether should be followed by not : " I wish you to say whether
or not I may expect you." Whether or no would be ungrammatical.

Will and shall. — Will in the first person denotes promise or
determination: "I will see to it." — "Yet I'll not shed her blood
(Othello). In the second and third persons, will merely asserts
probable future occurrence. Shall in the first person has the force of
will in the second and the third, and in the second and the third it
expresses promise or command: " The note shall be paid on the first
of the month." — " Do it you shall." Shakespeare nicely discriminates
between the auxiliaries in " As You Like It:" "Therefore, put you
in your best array ; for, if you will be married to-morrow, you shall,
and to Rosalind, if you will." In indirect assertion, shall may express
mere futurity in the second and the third person; as, "He says he
shall go."

In questions, shall in the first person asks for advice, or inquires
the will of the one addressed; as, "Shall I secure reserved seats?"
In the second person, it denotes simple futurity; as, " Shall you go to
Egypt next winter?" In the third person, it has the same potential
force as in the first: "Shall this man rule over us?" (is it your
determination that he shall ?) Will in all three persons implies futu-
rity: " Will I, you, or 'The Lucania,' sail to-morrow ?"

You was is a solecism almost as old as the fashion of addressing

E VER YD A Y MISUSA GES.

a person in high station in the plural number, — a gross piece of flat-
tery implying thou and thy retinue. The verb at first was made plural
as well. You was is on a par with you is and you has, and is univer-
sally eschewed by the polite.

QUESTIONS.

Explain and illustrate the popular misuse of each of the following
words : Loan. — Less. — Let. — Lie and lay. — Locate. — Lots and
loads. — Myself. — Never. — Nice. — Mutual. — Obnoxious. — Party.
— Spoonfuls or spoonsful. — Propose. — Pulpiteer. — Regalia. — Sit
and Set. — Scarcely — Stop. — Such. — Will and shall.

Explain the incorrect or inelegant use of each of the following
locutions: Let's we see. — You are mistaken. — Most everybody. — No
one else but. — Live in a street. — He was bought all the flour he
needed. — I was surprised at John saying he would go. — Seldom or
never. — Somebody else's. — You was. State the special function of
that and of which.

The instructor will question the class in regard to the prepositions
properly used after the words in the table.

EXERCISE.

Point out inelegances and errors in the following extracts, sug-
gesting reputable substitutes : —

He was sent a coupe to take him to the Parker House. — The City Coun-
cil objected to him receiving so high a salary. — Everything betokened the
habitation of an individual of exquisite taste. — There ! I never attended the
contert on Monday evening. — Her conduct was obnoxious to everyone. — As
in some future verse I [purpose or propose] to declare.

The beauty of her flesh abashed the boy
As tho' it were the beauty of her soul.

TENNYSON.

But man delights to have his ears
Blown maggots in by flatterers.

HUDIBRAS.

She set three nights by the patient's bedside. (What did she set?
traps, her cap, milk, the table, an example, the clock, or a broken bone?) —

248 LITERARY STYLE.

He does not propose to construct a mere precis of what other men have
written. — Try and listen to me a moment. — These kind of entertainments
are not conducive to health. — He's a new beginner. — Those two chairs are
both alike. — Mutual enmities cement friendships. — I saw an old party at the
depot in a last-century beaver.

It's many times sweeter and pleasant to me ;

For though they sing nicely, they cannot like thee.

The Gentle Shepherd.

Cynicism never has, and never will, lay hold of an imaginative mind
{Hall Cains'). — It seemed to the affrighted inhabitants as if the fiends of the
air had come on the wings of the wind (Irving). — When the late war was
inaugurated, a quiet man, who had received a military education, was pursu-
ing an avocation in civil life, in a small town in Illinois {New -York Paper).
— While I haven't eulogized the gods as much as some, I have never, and
never will, defend the devil (Ingersoll). — There let him lay (Byron). — As
you and I have no common friend, I can tell you no private history (Dr.
Johnson}. — Lady William Russell and our mutual nephews and nieces were
among the number (Mrs. Grote). — They are nice and foolish (Two Noble
Kinsmen*). — My fortune, however, was not so nice (Blackmore 'j George
Bowring). — To a man in London of quiet habits, and regular ways and
periods, there scarcely can be a more desperate blow than the loss of his
landlady (Idem). — Now, in this dilemma I met George Bowring, who
kindly pressed me to stay at his house till some female arose to manage my
affairs for me (Idem'). — At last she was come to a time of life when it does
matter how the dress sits, and what it is made of, and whether the hair is
well arranged for dancing in the sunshine, and for fluttering in the moonlight
(Frida; or, the Lover's Leap).

The instructor should encourage the practice on the part of the
pupils of bringing to the class room examples of bad English heard in
conversation, or encountered in reading. These should be written on
the blackboard, and corrected (with reasons for the corrections) by
members of the class.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Dr. Fitzedward Hall's " Modern English," Professor Earle's
" Philology of the English Tongue," Oliphant's " Standard English."

UNIT OF DISCOURSE. 249

LESSON XXIII.

THE PARAGRAPH, OR UNIT OF DISCOURSE.

The triumph of modern art in writing is manifested in the structure of the
paragraph. The glory of Latin composition must be looked for in the great sen-
tence which occasionally recurs ; the glory of French or English composition, in the
subtle combination of sentences which makes the paragraph. — PROFESSOR EARLE.

Learning to write well means in large part learning to give unity and coherence
to one's ideas. It means learning to construct units of discourse, which have order
and symmetry and coherence of parts. — PROFESSORS SCOTT AND DENNEY.

A Paragraph is a group or combination of related sen-
tences, treating of one topic, and forming one step in the
development of a theme. It is simply a beautiful whole,
made beautiful by its unity of purpose, and by the coher-
ence, variety, and order of its constituent parts. A para-
graph is thus an essay in miniature.

The Laws of Paragraph Structure are unity, explicit
reference, variety, and climax. A paragraph must be an
organized body composed of dependent members ; that is,
it must express one idea (which is commonly announced
in the opening sentence), without digressions or the intro-
duction of irrelevant matter. Every sentence that is
allowed to stand in the paragraph must be so essential
to the design of the whole that its omission would be felt
as a defect.

The sentences thus become the harmonizing parts of
an harmonious combination, each imperfect in itself, but
perfect as a member of a beautiful organism. Sentences
that are separately beautiful and apposite may, in their

250 LITERARY STYLE.

relation as parts of a particular paragraph, utterly fail to
fulfill their function.

In order to learn the principles of construction, the student must
analyze the paragraphs of recognized masters, like Macaulay. In the
following, from the " History of England," the author first announces
his topic, — the resistless courage of Cromwell's Ironsides ; he then
proceeds to prove it by illustrations, ending in a climax : —

" In war this strange force was irresistible. The stubborn courage char-
acteristic of the English people was, by the system of Cromwell, at once
regulated and stimulated. Other leaders have maintained order as strict.
Other leaders have inspired their followers with zeal as ardent. But in his
camp alone the most rigid discipline was found in company with the fiercest
enthusiasm. His troops moved to victory with the precision of machines,
while burning with the wildest fanaticism of Crusaders. From the time when
the army was remodeled to the time when it was disbanded, it never found,
either in the British Islands or on the Continent, an enemy who could stand
its onset. In England, Scotland, Ireland, Flanders, the Puritan warriors,
often surrounded by difficulties, sometimes contending against threefold odds,
not only never failed to conquer, but never failed to destroy and break in
pieces, whatever force was opposed to them. They at length came to regard
the day of battle as a day of certain triumph, and marched against the most
renowned battalions of Europe with disdainful confidence. Turenne was
startled by the shout of stern exultation with which his English allies ad-
vanced to the combat, and expressed the delight of a true soldier when he
learned that it was ever the fashion of Cromwell's pikemen to rejoice greatly
when they beheld the enemy ; and the banished Cavaliers felt an emotion of
national pride when they saw a brigade of their countrymen, outnumbered
by foes and abandoned by friends, drive before it in headlong rout the finest
infantry of Spain, and force a passage into a counterscarp which had just
been pronounced impregnable by the ablest of the marshals of France."

The order here is that which best brings out and emphasizes the
idea.

The Law of Explicit Reference requires that the sev-
eral sentences, which „ it is presumed are closely related
in thought, should be knit together mechanically by such

UNIT OF DISCOURSE. 25 I

connectives as will best reflect their coherence. The bear-
ing of each sentence on what precedes must be explicit
and unmistakable.

For expressing this continuity of thought, language places at our
disposal cumulative conjunctions, conjunctive adverbs, and phrases
that add new statements (and, also, likewise, again, further, more-
over, yet another, once more, first, secondly) ; adversative conjunctions
(but, otherwise, still, nevertheless, however — else and otherwise usu-
ally connect clauses) ; alternative conjunctions (or and nor) ; illative
conjunctions, and adverbs denoting consequences (hence, therefore,
thus, accordingly) ; subordinating conjunctions, which generally con-
nect subordinate clauses, but may link a subordinate statement of suf-
ficient importance to be embodied in a separate sentence (if, for,
unless, though) ; and a variety of specific words and phrases (like in
short, on the whole, on the other hand, to return, to resume, hitherto;
the demonstratives these and those; demonstrative phrases, in this
case, under these circumstances).

Connectives are omitted when the connection is either
very distant or very close. If the ideas as expressed in
the consecutive sentences are intimately related, the
thought of the paragraph flows on uninterruptedly with-
out continuative words. In such cases, the structure of
a given sentence will often be found happily to conform
to ideas immediately preceding. For instance, words or
thoughts that close the preceding sentence, or constitute
its main subject, may be repeated, or referred to at once.

Principle of Parallel Construction. — Further, when
consecutive sentences illustrate the same idea, they should
as far as possible, though variously worded, be formed on
the same plan ; the principal subject and the principal
predicate retaining their positions throughout. This is
known as the Principle of Parallel Construction, and is
exemplified in the following : " Milton does not paint

252 LITERARY STYLE.

a finished picture, or play for a mere passive listener. He
sketches, and leaves others to fill up the outline. He
strikes the keynote, and expects his hearer to make out
the melody." (Not, " Sketches are made by him, and
the outline is left to be filled up by others.")

The following extract from Herbert Spencer's " Essay on the
Philosophy of Style " illustrates various methods of establishing
explicit reference : —

" The continuous use of these modes of expression that are alike forcible
in themselves and forcible from their associations, produces the peculiarly
impressive species of composition which we call poetry. Poetry, we shall
find, habitually adopts those symbols of thought and those methods of using
them, which instinct and analysis agree in choosing as most effective ; and
becomes poetry by virtue of doing this. On turning back to the various
specimens that have been quoted, it will be seen that the direct or inverted
form of sentence predominates in them, and that to a degree quite inadmis-
sible in prose. And not only in the frequency, but in what is termed the vio-
lence, of the inversions, will this distinction be remarked. In the abundant
use of figures, again, we may recognize the same truth. Metaphors, similes,
hyperboles, and personifications, are the poet's colors, which he has liberty
to employ almost without limit. We characterize as ' poetical ' the prose
which uses these appliances of language with any frequency ; and condemn it
as ' over florid ' or ' affected ' long before they occur with the profusion
allowed in verse. Further, let it be remarked that in brevity, — the other
requisite of forcible expression which theory points out, and emotion sponta-
neously fulfills, — poetical phraseology similarly differs from ordinary phrase-
ology. Imperfect periods are frequent; elisions are perpetual ; and many of
the minor words which would be deemed essential in prose are dispensed
with."

The italicized connectives, etc., render the paragraph coherent
and compact.

The Law of Variety requires that the sentences in a
paragraph should differ in length and structure, diction,
and rhythm, thus holding the reader's attention. A good
paragraph never consists of a succession of sentences of

UNIT OF DISCOURSE. 253

a single type. Monotony here, even if it mean uniform
brilliancy, is fatal to effect. The several sentences are
to have length and prominence according to their impor-
tance ; that is, they must conform to the law of propor-
tion, which further demands that the paragraph itself
shall precisely delineate its theme. A perfect paragraph
is one from which nothing can be taken, and to which
nothing can be added, without injury to the effect. The
number of the constituent sentences usually varies from
three to ten.

The Order of Progression is naturally from the less
important to the more important. Such order of itself
implies stimulating variety.

Relation of the Paragraph to the Composition. — What
the sentence is to the paragraph, the paragraph is to the
whole composition, — one of many closely related parts, a
substantive member of the theme. The secret of a pleas-
ing style lies largely in the graceful and logical sequence
of these units of discourse, as well as in the variety of
their length and structure.

Some subjects admit of adequate treatment in single
independent paragraphs. The writing of such " isolated
paragraphs " at present employs many artistic pens.

QUESTIONS.

Define the paragraph. Name the great laws of paragraph struc-
ture. State concisely the paragraph law of unity ; the law of explicit
reference. By what kind of words and phrases may explicit reference
be established? Illustrate your answer. When are connectives un-
necessary? Explain the principle of parallel construction.

What does the law of variety require ? Describe the effect of uni-
form brilliancy. Show how the paragraph should conform to the law
of proportion. Define a precise paragraph. What danger may be

254 LITERARY STYLE.

involved in the desire for variation ? ( The danger of becoming obscure.
Variation depends on ' ' sympathy in the writer, and cannot be worked
by rules.'1'') What is said of the isolated paragraph ? Sum up the laws
of the paragraph. (Present the subject in the first sentence. Knit each
sentence by some method of reference to the preceding sentence. End
the paragraph with an emphatic statement or summary of its subject-
matter in period or climax. Above all, let the paragraph have unity
of purpose.}

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Show in -what ways explicit reference is established in the follow-
ing extract from Matthew Arnold's essay on " The Literary Influence
of Academies : " —

" Therefore, a nation whose chief spiritual characteristic is energy will
not be very apt to set up, in intellectual matters, a fixed standard, an author-
ity, like an academy. By this it certainly escapes certain real inconveniences
and dangers, and it can at the same time, as we have seen, reach undeniably
splendid heights in poetry and science. On the other hand, some of the
requisites of intellectual work are specially the affair of quickness of mind
and flexibility of intelligence. The form, the method, the evolution, the
precision, the proportions, the relations of the parts to the whole, in an intel-
lectual work, depend mainly upon them. And these are the elements of an
intellectual work, which are really most communicable from it, which can
most be learned and adopted from it, which have, therefore, the greatest
effect upon the intellectual performance of others. Even in poetry, these
requisites are very important; and the poetry of a nation not eminent for the
gifts on which they depend will, more or less, suffer by this shortcoming. In
poetry, however, they are, after all, secondary, and energy is the first thing ;
but in prose they are of first-rate importance. In its prose literature, there-
fore, and in the routine of intellectual work generally, a nation with no par-
ticular gifts for these will not be so successful. These are what, as I have
said, can to a certain degree be learned and appropriated ; while the free
activity of genius cannot. Academies consecrate and maintain them, and
therefore a nation with an eminent- turn for them naturally establishes
academies."

Do the sentences naturally lead on to one another? Is the order
of progression from the less important to the more important? Is the
law of parallel construction illq$trated? Criticise as to variety in

UNIT OF DISCOURSE. 255

phraseology and structure. Note the length of the sentences. Point
out the force of the periods. Distinguish the loose sentences. Do
you find balance ? Prove the unity of the extract by stating its sub-
stance in a single sentence.

Criticise in like manner the annexed paragraph from Macaulay's
" Essay on the Earl of Chatham," remembering, that in the choice of
his words, the variety of his sentences, and above all, in " the group-
ing and melodious run " of his paragraphs, Macaulay is a master : —

"The most important event of this short administration was the trial of
Byng. On that subject public opinion is still divided. We think the pun-
ishment of the admiral altogether unjust and absurd. Treachery, cowardice,
ignorance amounting to what lawyers have called crassa ignorantia, are fit
objects of severe penal inflictions. But Byng was not found guilty of treachery,
of cowardice, or of gross ignorance of his profession. He died for doing
what the most loyal subject, the most intrepid warrior, the most experienced
seaman, might have done. He died for an error in judgment, an error such
as the greatest commanders — Frederic, Napoleon, Wellington — have often
committed, and have often acknowledged. Such errors are not proper
objects of punishment, for this reason, that the punishing of such errors tends
not to prevent them, but to produce them. The dread of an ignominious
death may stimulate sluggishness to exertion, may keep a traitor to his stand-
ard, may prevent a coward from running away : but it has no tendency to
bring out those qualities which enable men to form prompt and judicious
decisions in great emergencies. The best marksman may be expected to fail
when the apple which is to be his mark is set on his child's head. We can-
not conceive anything more likely to deprive an officer of his self-possession
at the time when he most needs it than the knowledge that, if the judgment
of his superiors should not agree with his, he will be executed with every cir-
cumstance of shame. Queens, it has often been said, run far greater risk
in sickness than private women, merely because their medical attendants
are more anxious. A surgeon who attended Marie Louise was altogether
unnerved by his emotions. 'Compose yourself,' said Bonaparte; 'imagine
that you are assisting a poor girl in the Faubourg St. Antoine.' This was
surely a far wiser course than that of the Eastern king in the ' Arabian Nights '
Entertainments,' who proclaimed that the physicians who failed to cure his
daughter should have their heads chopped off. Bonaparte knew mankind
well ; and, as he acted towards his surgeon, he acted towards his officers.
No sovereign was ever so indulgent to mere errors of judgment ; and it is
certain that no sovereign ever had in his service so many military men fit for
the highest commands."

256 LITERARY STYLE.

If the student will turn to Addison's " Spectator," No. 26, he will
find the paper to consist of five paragraphs, the subjects of which may
be stated as follows : —

I. Addison liked, when in a serious mood, to walk by himself in

Westminster Abbey.
II. Watches the digging of a grave.

III. Studies the tombstones and epitaphs.

IV. Notices offensive monuments.

V. The lessons which the scene suggests.

Read the essay, note how the author expands each of these sub-
jects into a paragraph, observe how paragraph leads to paragraph, and
how the whole is rounded off with a striking conclusion.

The student should analyze in this way one or two essays a week.
He will find suitable material in the magazines and reviews of the
day. By noticing how masters in the art choose their words, arrange
their matter, construct their sentences, build up their paragraphs, and
finish their essays, the learner will insensibly acquire useful literary
habits.

DAILY THEMES. — By this time, too, he must have become suffi-
ciently familiar with rhetorical principles to make the practice of writing
daily themes highly profitable. It is, therefore, recommended that
each member of the class form the habit of writing impromptu each
day a page or two upon some suggestive subject, submitting the same
to the instructor for criticism. " Cicero's motto, No day without a line,
is the first precept for a would-be author. In the second place, he
should learn to respect the criticism of his elders, even though it goes
against his own tastes " (J. Addington Sy mends) .

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.
" Paragraph Writing," by Professors Scott and Denney.

PART IV.

FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

LESSON XXIV.

THE ORIGIN OF FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.— FIGURES OF
ORTHOGRAPHY AND ETYMOLOGY.

Observe regularly the speech of man, and there is nothing almost spoken but by
figure. — DONNE'S Polydoron.

All roots, i.e., all the material elements of language, are expressive of sensuous
impressions, and of sensuous impressions only ; and all words, even the most
abstract and sublime, are derived from roots. — MAX MULLER.

DEFINITION OF STYLE. — The right choice and collocation of words ; the best
arrangement of clauses in a sentence ; the proper order of its principal and subordi-
nate propositions ; tht judicious use of simile, metaphor, and other figures of speech;
and the euphonious sequence of syllables. — HERBERT SPENCER.

A Figure (form of speech) is a deviation from the ordi-
nary mode of speaking, with a view to greater clearness,
energy, dignity, or grace ; as when, in " Romeo and
Juliet," Shakespeare transformed the colloquial phrase,
" It is sunrise," into the lines, —

" Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops."

Or in " Aurora Leigh,"- Mrs. Browning unanswerably
conveyed the sense she intended by expressing its op-
posite : —

" I have known good friends

(Very good) who hung succinctly round your neck
And sucked your breath, as cats are fabled to do
By sleeping infants. And we all have known

QUACK. RHET. — 17 ^57

FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Good critics who have stamped out poet's hope,
Good statesmen who pulled ruin on the state,
Good patriots who for a theory risked a cause,
Good kings who disemboweled for a tax,
Good Christians who sat still in easy-chairs
And damned the general world for standing up —
Now may the good God pardon all good men ! "

In each extract, common words are intentionally com-
bined so as to express meanings at variance with their
usual significations, and to express these meanings clearly,
forcibly, and agreeably. Such words are said to be used
figuratively. Where no effect is gained by deviation
from the ordinary mode of expression, the figure is super-
fluous.

The Origin of Figurative Language, which is to be met
with in almost every English sentence, must be sought
in the word-forming method of early men. This method
involved the transferring of names, attributes, or actions,
from objects to which they properly belonged to other
objects which struck the mind as having the same pecul-
iarities. Without such transfers (in Greek, metapkorai)t
no language could have progressed beyond the rudest
beginnings. Through their instrumentality, about four
hundred simple sounds of the human voice have given
being to all the Aryan or Indo-European languages,
embracing the ancient Latin and Greek, Sanskrit and
Avesta, Slavo-Teutonic and Celtic, with their hundred
derivative modern tongues.

Roots. — " After we have removed everything that is
formal, artificial, intelligible, in words," writes Max Miiller,
"there remains always something that is not the result
of grammatical art, is not intelligible ; and this we call a
root." Whence roots were derived will never be satisfac-

ORIGIN OF FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

259

torily determined, — whether they were a direct revelation
from the Deity, or were the outcome of faculties conferred
by him on man for their invention and elaboration. But
given these elements of language, with definite forms and
definite meanings, and transfers at once take place; dis-
tinct conceptions related by real or fancied resemblance
receive names from the same radical atoms, and a dress is
at length found for every sentiment of the mind.

Hail a

Thus, from material roots meaning to shine, names were formec
for sun, moon, eyes, gold, and silver, which shine literally ; Vnd for
play, joy, happiness, and love, which shine figuratively. To a single
root meaning to crumble, may be traced words denoting sickness and

260 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

death, night, old age, autumn. These are radical metaphors. They
illustrate the transference of names for the purpose of explanation.

All languages originally possessed this power of growing words
from roots. Words sprung from the same root preserved a family
likeness, as shown in the group of English scions from the Teutonic
haila (whole) on the preceding page.

A single root thus gives names to many different conceptions ; but
the transfers are unrecognized by the majority of those who employ
them, notably in such radical metaphors as contrition (ground to
pieces), detect (to unroof ) , discuss (to shake apart) , acuteness (needle
sharpness }, flatter (to stroke with the flat of the hand), ruminate (to
chew over again), dilapidate (to scatter like stones), bombast (cotton;
now, inflated language).

The Egyptian hieroglyphics furnish many interesting examples of
transfer; as, the symbolical representation of truth by an ostrich
feather, remarkable for its perfect symmetry ; of bravery, by a lion's
head ; of wisdom, by an ant ; of ingratitude, by a viper; of the adjec-
tive numerous, by a frog. Among the picture figures engraved on the
vertical columns of the obelisk in Central Park, New York, the croco-
dile signifies plundering ; the scorpion, wicked ; a pod of acacia fruit,
sweetness.

Modern Figures. — Radical metaphors are the offspring
of necessity. They are to be distinguished from poetical
metaphors, where the attribute is transferred poetically,
solely from a desire to please ; as, " rosy-fingered morn,"
" daisy " (eye of day). Such poetical metaphors occur
side by side with radical metaphors in the oldest literary
works.

Our English has lost the metaphor-making power, new
words being manufactured under laws already explained.
A figure of speech as used by an author to-day, largely
implies purpose as well as art, and must further the ends
of rhetoric by tending to instruct, please, excite, convince,
or persuade. But figures are by no means confined to
poetry or to use by the educated. They characterize the

FIGURES OF ORTHOGRAPHY. 261

speech of the vulgar. Everyone uses them because they
are preeminently natural thought forms. They vary in
quality with differences in taste.

Classification of Figures. — Figures may be classified
as Grammatical and Rhetorical. Grammatical figures are
deviations from the ordinary spelling, forms, and construc-
tion of words. Rhetorical figures are deviations from the
ordinary application of words. Any figure is rhetorical
when it represents a change that intensifies effect.

Figures of Orthography. — Deviations from the ordi-
nary spelling of words are known as Figures of Orthogra-
phy. Spelling is varie'd either to imitate a dialect or to
restore an archaic appearance.

Mime' sis (mimicry) is a figure that imitates by the
spelling the real or imaginary words of another. Its pur-
pose is the portraiture of character. The effect of this
figure is evident in the following extract from " Fitz
Adam's Story : " —

" When first I chanced the Eagle to explore,
Ezra sat listless by the open door ;
One chair careened him at an angle meet,
Another nursed his hugely-slippered feet ;
Upon a third reposed a shirt-sleeved arm,
And the whole man diffused tobacco's charm.
' Are you the landlord? ' — ' Wahl, I guess I be,'
Watching the smoke, he answered leisurely.

' Can I have lodgings here? ' once more I said.
He blew a whiff, and leaning back his head,

' You come a piece through Bailey's woods, I s'pose,
Acrost a bridge where a big swamp-oak grows?
It don't grow, neither ; it's ben dead ten year,
Nor th' ain't a livin' creetur, fur nor near,
Can tell wut killed it ; but I some misdoubt
Twas borers, there's sech heaps on 'em about.
You didn' chance to run ag'inst my son,

262 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

A long, slab-sided youngster with a gun?

He'd oughto ben back more'n an hour ago,

An' brought some birds to dress for supper — Sho !

There he comes now. Say, Obed, wut ye got?

(He'll hev some upland plover like as not.) —

Wai, Square, I guess so. Callilate to stay?

I'll ask Mis' Weeks; 'bout thet it's hern to say.' "

The description of the landlord is here instructively supplemented
by his conversation. This is not merely a presentation of the dialect
for the purpose of making known what the dialect is ; the figure is
used for rhetorical ends, to portray character, and thus give pleasure.
So mimesis is the charm of many novels and of all dialect stories.
Without such adaptation of language and style to character, Shake-
speare himself would be inconsistent and tame.

Archaism is the intentional revival of obsolete spelling,
and, by an extension of the principle, of poetic, old-fash-
ioned words. Such words are uncommon, unexpected, and
highly picturesque ; while their associations with the past,
like those of any antique, inspire interest and reverence.

Spenser's "With daffadillies dight," Whittier's " Bark-builded
wigwams," Macaulay's " I wis in all the Senate," Keats's " And the
caked snow is shuffled from the plowboy's heavy shoon," Tennyson's
" Glode over earth " and " Gat hold of the land," Conington's "Mid
these among the branching treen," — owe their effect to the "poet-
words grown obsolete." And poetry that is archaic throughout, like
" The Shepheard's Calender" and "The Faerie Queene," " The Castle
of Indolence," and " Sigurd the Volsung," correspondingly stimulate
the imagination. The following stanza from " The Castle of Indo-
lence " has the ring of old metal : —

" In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,
With woody hill o'er hill encompass'd round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,
Than whom a fiend more fell is nowhere found.
It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground ;
And there a season atween June and May,
Half prankt with Spring, with Summer half imbrown'ds

FIGURES OF ETYMOLOGY. 263

A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,
No living wight could work, ne cared even for play."

Many of the words in this poem were used by Spenser and Chaucer,
and hence possess a peculiar sacredness in the eyes of one who has
cultivated the philological sense.

In fiction, where an early period is represented, effect is secured
by faithful adherence to the archaic dialect.

Figures of Etymology are deviations from the ordi-
nary forms of words. There are seven ways in which the
form of a word may be changed ; viz., by addition to the
beginning, middle, or end ; by subtraction from the begin-
ning, middle, or end ; and by changing the order of its
letters. The Greek words that describe each of these
processes are the accepted names of the figures of ety-
mology.

Pros' thesis (prefixing) is the addition of one or more
letters at the beginning of a word ; as, tfdown for down,
fo-strown, evanished, ^painted, "&?dazed with wonder-
working light."

Epen' thesis (inserting) is addition in the middle of a
word, usually for comic or mimetic effect ; as, ye-^s (to
indicate prolonged pronunciation), Confederates.

Paragoge (par-a-go'je — leading by or beyond} is the
addition of a letter or letters at the end of a word ; as,
"But these I pass^w by" (Thomson}. — "The waves broke
ominous with pal)/ gleams " (Loivell}.

Aphaer'esis (taking away) is the omission of a letter or
letters from the beginning of a word ; as, 'neath, 'thout
(without), 'dures (endures), 'tis.

Syncope (sing'ko-pe — striking together or mid-cut) is the
elision of one or more letters from the middle of a word ;
as, e'en, ev'ry, ca'd (called), pr'ythee, vot'ries (votaries).

264 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Apocope (a-pok'o-pe — cutting off) is the omission of a
letter or letters at the end of a word ; as, tho', th', " At
Alesandr' he was " (Alexandria).

Additions and elisions like those just illustrated, while
adding picturesqueness to verse, are to be strictly avoided
in prose.

Tme'sis (cutting in two) is the wedging in of one or
more words between the parts of a compound. Each part
that is split off is thus a complete word in itself ; as,
What condition soever. To us ward, To \o.eward, " So new
zfasliioned robe " (Shakespeare). The best illustration of
tmesis in all literature is contained in a fragment of the
Latin poet Ennius, supposed to relate to the mutilation of
the Cyclops by Ulysses : " Saxo cere comminuit brum "
(he crushed his brain with a stone). The adaptation of
the sound to the sense is highly rhetorical; the mono-
syllable brunt, boldly split away from the simple cerebrum,
stands at the end of the line, and answers to the blow.

Metath'esis (putting over) is the transposition of the
letters or syllables of a word ; as in the change from the
Anglo-Saxon brid to bird, in Jhon for John, meagre for
meager.

QUESTIONS.

What is a figure ? Illustrate figures. Describe the word-forming
method of early men, and show how it explains the origin of figures.
What is a root? Of what kind of impressions are roots the expression?
Whence came roots? To what are the names of the original impres-
sions transferred? From roots meaning to shine, what words were
formed? from roots meaning to crumble? Draw a diagram illus-
trating the growth of words from the root haila. What is a radical
metaphor? Give examples of common radical metaphors. What
figures occur in the Egyptian hieroglyphics?

Explain the difference between radical and poetical metaphors.

CRITICISM. 265

How old are poetical metaphors ? What justifies a modern writer in
framing a figure of speech? Are figures confined to educated use?
Why does everyone employ them? Account for differences in their
quality.

How are figures classified? What are grammatical figures? rhe-
torical figures? Why is the spelling of words varied ? Name the two
figures of spelling. Define mimesis ; archaism. State the rhetorical
value of each. What are figures of etymology? Define and illustrate
prosthesis, epenthesis, paragoge, aphaeresis, syncope, and apocope.
What is tmesis? Has it ever been used with rhetorical effect? Sum
up the advantages of figures as you have learned them in this lesson.

EXERCISES.

The student may explain each of the following radical metaphors :
precipitate, attention (mind stretch), embarrass, propose, important,
subject, awkward, froward, angel, tribulation, idea, ardor, ponder,
exaggerate, disgust, instill, melancholy, provide, apprehend, affliction,
anxiety, liberal, stingy.

Examine the words daily used in the school and in the home, with
a view to detecting in them " signs of natural facts."

Point out the figures of orthography and etymology that occur in
the following passages, changing the figurative to plain language : —

Whilom in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth
Who ne in virtue's ways did take delight;
Ah me ! in sooth he was a godless wight,
Childe Harold was he hight.

BYRON.

" It's an outdoors, woodsy country story, 'sides bein' the heav'nliest
one that was ever telled. I read the hull Bible, as a duty, ye know. I read
the epis'les ; but somehow they don't come home to me. Paul was a great
man, a dreffle smart scholar, but he was raised in the city, I guess ; an' when
I go from the gospils into Paul's writin's, it's like goin' from the woods an'
hills an' streams o' Francony into the streets of a big city like Concord or
Manch'ster. — Fishitt1 Jimmy.

Not one eftsoons was to be found. — Ymolten1 with his syren melody
( Thomson}. — Of whom be thou ware also (2 Tim. iv. 15). — There lament

1 Kor i before the past participle is a softened form of the Teutonic £V,
once a common Saxon prefix; as, ironne (run), ycladd (clad), etc.

266 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

they the live day long (Burns'). — He sinks adown a solitary glen (Keats}.
— They grieven sore in piteous durance pent (Shenstone~). — Blythe Jenny
sees the visit's no' ill ta'en (Burns'}. — I'se tell him frankly ne'er to do't
again (Ramsay). — His rifled coffers, bursten gates, all open to the wind
(Translation of the Ci<T). — Great Bab'lon's doom. — Oh whistle! and I'll
come t'ye, my lad.

" Her hair was hyghted on hold,
With a coronal of gold ;
Was never made upon mold,
A worthelyche wyght."

If canker' d Madge our aunt
Come up the burn, she'll gie's a wicked rant.

Gentle Shepherd.

This temple sad and lone
Is all spar'd from the thunder of a war
Foughten long since by giant hierarchy.

KEATS.

It's no' the streamlet-skirted wood,

Wi' a' its leafy bow'rs,
That gars me wade, in solitude,

Among the wild-sprung flow'rs;
But aft I cast a langin' e'e,
Down frae the bank out owre the lea,
There, haply, I my lass may see

As through the broom she scours.

TANNAHILL.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

For the rhetorical effect of mimesis and archaism, read Lowell's
"The Biglow Papers'' and " Fitz Adam's Story," William Morris's
" Sigurd the Volsung," Andrew Lang's " Letters to Dead Authors,"
and Ian Maclaren's " Beside the Bonny Brier Bush."

FIGURES OF SYNTAX. 267

LESSON XXV.

FIGURES OF SYNTAX.

But for such deviations, or licenses of construction, style would be tame and
monotonous, and grammar would fetter too closely the free movements of the
mind. — PROFESSOR MACBETH.

Figures of Syntax are intentional deviations from
ordinary grammatical constructions. They are four in
number, — Ellipsis, Ple'onasm, Enallage (en-al'la-je), and
Hyper' baton, each of which has pronounced rhetorical
value.

Ellipsis (leaving out) is the omission of a word or
words necessary to the construction, but not to the mean-
ing. Grammatical ellipsis occurs in almost every English
sentence ; style would be embarrassed without it. But
when the omission implies a genuine economizing of the
reader's time and attention, and thus tends to promote
energy of expression, it rises to the dignity of a rhetorical
figure.

Shakespeare's plays abound in illustrations ; as, " Now,
the business." — " Noses, ears, and lips ! Is it possible ?
Confess ! Handkerchief ! O devil ! " (Othello). — " A
horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! " (Richard III.)
The repetition here is like sounding an alarm twice when
haste is imperative, and hence is extremely dramatic. So
in the cry of Shylock, " Why, there, there, there, there ! a
diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frank-
fort ! " If the omitted parts be supplied, the tendency to
acceleration is impeded, and energy sacrificed. It is to be

268 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

noticed that a good ellipsis is never inconsistent with
clearness ; we must always be able instantly to infer the
part omitted from the part expressed.

The omission of a whole clause or sentence is in harmony with
the psychology of this figure, and is rhetorical when a deep impression
is produced by the ellipsis. This is virtually Aposiope'sis, or the
Greek figure of Silence, and often results from strong emotion or pas-
sion ; as in Cordelia's prayer to Lear : —

" I yet beseech your majesty
(If — for I want that glib and oily art
To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend,
I'll do it before I speak) that you make known
It is no vicious blot," etc.

The ellipsis after if is readily inferred from the context : " If, as seems
likely, you will disinherit me for (because) I lack" etc.

The effectiveness of such omission may be further illustrated by
the following lines from Young : —

" The spider's most attenuated web
Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie
Of earthly bliss ; it [the spider's web] breaks at every breeze."

The poet leaves the imagination to fill out the picture. Thus omitting
a thing is sometimes the most forcible use to make of it, as has been
already made clear in connection with the philosophy of description
(P- 95)-

Art everywhere deals in Ellipsis ; the unseen is im-
agined from the visible. And so it is in nature. Many
things in the universe we know only by inference from
what is seen — notably, nearly one-half of the nearest
heavenly body, our moon. "The artist," said Schiller, "is
known by what he omits." Likewise in literature, the
true artist is revealed by his tact of ellipsis.

The pretended omission of what one is really referring to, involv-
ing the suppression of details, also adds to rhetorical effect : "I say

FIGURES OF SYNTAX. 269

nothing of the notorious profligacy of his character ; nothing of the
reckless extravagance with which he has wasted an ample fortune ;
nothing of the disgusting intemperance which has sometimes caused
him to reel in our streets ; — but I aver that he has exhibited neither
probity nor ability in the important office which he holds."

Pleonasm (more than sufficient} consists in the use of
redundant words that contribute to emphasis or general
effect. It is rhetorical repetition ; as, " Know ye that the
Lord, he is God."

Ellipsis is a peculiarly Japhetic figure ; to cut, to compress, to
shorten, is in accordance with the genius of most of the Indo-Euro-
pean tongues. But to the Semitic races, — the Hebraso-Phcenicians,
the Assyrio-Babylonians, and the Egyptians, — repetition was a great
beauty. Thus, in Solomon's Song: " Open to me, my sister, my love,
my dove, my undefiled : for my head is filled with dew, and my locks
with the drops of the night." And in the Babylonian " Prayer of the
Heart to Istar " (Venus) : —

O Istar ! Lady of Heaven ! may thy heart rest.

O Lady, Queen of Heaven ! may thy liver be magnified.

O Lady, Queen of the land of the four rivers of Erech ! may thy heart

rest.

O Lady, Queen of Babylon ! may thy liver be magnified !
O Lady, Queen of the Temple of the Resting-place of the World ! may

thy heart rest. — A. H. SAYCE.

Pleonasm conforms to the law of adaptation when it
is the utterance of strong feeling, which is not always sat-
isfied with saying a thing once or in the fewest words
possible. Emotion may be either silent or voluble. The
rhetorician portrays silent feeling by aposiopesis ; talka-
tive feeling, by pleonasm. Hence repetitions due to
intense emotion constitute true beauty.

There are Various Kinds of Repetition explained in the
names of a number of iterative figures.

2/0 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Epizeux'is (fastening together} is immediate, or almost
immediate, repetition, to secure emphasis: —

Happy, happy, happy pair !

None but the brave,

None but the brave,
None but the brave — deserves the fair.

DRYDEN.

Anaph'ora (bringing back) is the repetition of a word or
words at the beginning of successive clauses, members, or
sentences ; as, —

There are, too, who believe in Hell, and lie;
There are, too, who believe in Heaven, and fear;
There are who waste their souls in working out
Life's problem on the sands betwixt two tides.

Aurora Leigh.

This form of pleonasm is capable of imparting singular
dignity and pathos, as in these lines from " Evangeline,"
referring to the churchyard in which " the lovers are sleep-
ing : " —

" Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them,
Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever,
Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy,
Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors,
Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey ! "

Epistrophe (e-pis'tro-phe, turning to, returning] is repe-
tition at the end of successive clauses, members, or sen-
tences ; as, " When I was a child, I spake as a child, I
understood as a child, I thought as a child."

Antistrophe (an-tis'tro-phe, turning about or opposite) is
repetition in an inverse order, at the beginning and the
end of consecutive clauses, members, or sentences : —

Fare thee well ! and if forever,
Still forever fare thee well.

BYRON.

FIGURES OF SYNTAX. 2/1

But there is only a step from the sublime to the ridiculous in the
use of pleonasm. Gilfillan relates, that in a line of one of Thomson's
dramas, the heroine of the play is addressed by her lover as

" O Sophonisba ! Sophonisba O ! "

A wag in the audience at once extemporized the antistrophic remon-
strance, —

" O Jemmy Thomson ! Jemmy Thomson O I "

which made London merry for a season.

Pleonasm may attain the Level of the Dramatic. In

Marlowe's tragedy, Mephistopheles and Faustus, being
invisible, torment the Pope at Rome ; and Mephistopheles
jestingly remarks that they will be cursed with bell, book,
and candle. Whereupon Faustus —

"How? Bell, book, and candle — candle, book, and bell,
Forward and backward to curse Faustus to Hell," —

thus accommodating the swing of the words to the mo-
tion. So in the " Taming of the Shrew," Gremio pictures
the confusion at the marriage of Petruchio and Katharina
by dramatic pleonasm : —

" ' Ay, by gogs-wouns,' quoth he ; and swore so loud,
That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book :
And, as he stoop'd again to take it up,
This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff,
That down fell priest and book, and book and priest."

Enallage (exchange) is the substitution of one part of
speech or of one modification of a word (one person, num-
ber, inflection) for another. Our greatest poets have not
hesitated to declare their independence of grammatical
law when picturesqueness or other rhetorical effect was to
be gained by the deviation. Enallage is really beautiful
solecism ; its effect may be inferred from the following

2/2 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

examples: "Like old Deucalion mountain 'd o'er the
flood" (Keats). — "The summer ray russets the plain"
(Thomson}. — "A sudden /#& usurps her cheek '** ( Venus
and Adonis). — "To thee my thoughts continual climb"
(Seasons). — "I am going to see the great Perhaps "
(Rabelais 's Dying Words). — " An eternal now " (Cowper).
— " And plucks the delicatest needle out as 'twere a
rose " (Mrs. Browning).

It is to be observed that the environment conditions the beauty
of an enallage. What would be vulgar on the tongue of a newsboy
acquires a rugged charm in the verse of a Byron or the dramatic prose
of a Carlyle. Thus : " The idols are broke in the temple of Baal." -
" He has shook hands with time." — " Welcome the beggarliest truth,
so it be one, in change for the roy attest sham."

Hyperbaton (stepping over and hence out of place) is
the transposition of words. The emphasis of such trans-
position has been discussed under the head of energetic
arrangement. Some of the great epics, for instance,
begin with a statement of their themes as predicates :
the " Paradise Lost," with " Of man's first disobedience,
etc., sing, heavenly Muse ; " the " Iliad," with " Wrath
sing, Goddess ! of Achilles, son of Peleus ;" the "^Eneid,"
with —

" Arms and the man I sing who first,
By fate of Ilian realm amerced,
To fair Italia onward bore,
And landed on Lavinium's shore."

Hyperbaton as a figure is justified by agitation or con-
fusion in the speaker, who, under such circumstances,
would naturally hurry to the front the thoughts that
are foremost in his mind. Longinus explains in this
way the frequent inversions of the orator Demosthenes,

FIGURES OF SYNTAX. 273

described by a rival, ^Eschines, as " the wild beast roaring
out " his passion. The monologue of Hamlet on the mar-
riage of the queen, his mother, illustrates in its interrup-
tions, and the consequent suspension of the sense, the
rhetorical force of this figure, conveying the impression
that the thoughts of the prince are uttered on the spur of
the moment, disjointedly, and therefore naturally : —

"And yet, within a month —

Let me not think on't. — Frailty, thy name is woman ! —
A little month; or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears — why she, even she —
(O God ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer) — married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules. Within a month ;
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. — O most wicked speed !
It is not, nor it cannot come to, good:
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue ! "

Hysteron Prot'eron is a form of hyperbaton in which
what should stand last is put first. Sterne, in the satire
" Tristram Shandy," gives as the Saxon equivalent " the
cart before the horse." Rhetoricians have named such
interchange of construction Hypallage (hy-pal'la-je), of
which there is no better example than Shakespeare's line,
"His coward lips did from their color fly."

QUESTIONS.

What are figures of syntax ? Define ellipsis. How common is
grammatical ellipsis? When does grammatical omission become
rhetorical? Illustrate from Shakespeare's plays. Under what cir-
cumstances is the omission of a clause or sentence rhetorical ? Illus-
trate this principle. Explain the relation between ellipsis and art.

QUACK. RHET. — 18

274 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Define pleonasm. Of the two figures, ellipsis and pleonasm,
which is Japhetic ? which Semitic ? Illustrate pleonasm from the
Bible ; from other Oriental sources. When does such redundancy
conform to our law of adaptation ? What is aposiopesis ? Define
and illustrate epizeuxis ; anaphora ; epistrophe ; antistrophe. Can
you give a ludicrous example of antistrophe? Show how pleonasm
may attain the level of the dramatic.

What is enallage? Is it anything more than "beautiful bad
grammar"? Explain and illustrate its rhetorical force. What has
environment to do with its appropriateness? Define hyperbaton.
What makes hyperbaton truly rhetorical ? Illustrate hysteron prot-
eron.

EXERCISE.

Point out the figures of syntax that occur in the following ex-
tracts, and comment on their rhetorical value : —

I'm thinking, if aunt knew so little of sin,

What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been

And her grand-aunt — it scares me.

HOLMES.

Consider the lilies how they grow. — The spring, she is a blessed
thing, she is the mother 6f the flowers (Mary Hewitt}. — Are they Hebrews?
so am I. Are they Israelites? so am I (2 Cor. xi. 22). — Where's Harry
Blount, Fitz-Eustace, where? (Scott.} — Each smoother seems than each,
and each than each seems smoother (Faerie Queene).

For yesternight

To me, the great God Ares, whose one bliss
Is war and human sacrifice — himself
Stood out before a darkness, crying, " Thebes
Thy Thebes shall fall and perish, for I loathe
The seed of Cadmus — yet, if one of these
By his own hand — if one of these " —

My son, etc.
TENNYSON'S Tiresias.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide, wide sea.

Ancient Mariner.

FIGURES Of-' SYNTAX. 2?$

The mulberry tree was hung with blooming wreaths ;

The mulberry tree stood center of the dance,

The mulberry tree was hymned with dulcet airs,

And from his touchwood trunk the mulberry tree

Supplied such relics as devotion holds

Still sacred. COWPER'S Task.

In Chapman's translation of the "Iliad," the fight between Sarpe-
don and Patroclus is thus described : —

" Fly on each other, strike and truss, get ready

Part, meet, and then stick by,

Tug both with crooked beaks and seres, claws

Cry, fight, and fight and cry."

I cannot choose but think
That with him, I were virtuouser than you
Without him.

MRS. BROWNING.

And ye three handmaids of the Cyprian Queen,
The which doe still adorn her beautie's pride,
Help to adorn my beautifullest bride.

SPENSER'S Epithalamion.

To the land of the Hereafter (Longfellow}. — The Right Side, we find,
persists with imperturbablest tenacity ( Carlyle}. — It is better that I should
have pined away seven of my goldenest years (Lamb'). — Burns Marmion's
swarthy cheek like fire (Scott}. — Prodigious seem'd the toil (Keats'). — One
of the few, the immortal names, that were not born to die (Halleck). — For
our affairs are placed upon a razor's edge, O men of Ionia, to be treated as
freemen or slaves, yea, as fugitive slaves. Now, therefore, if ye will grapple
with hardship, — now is your time for exertion, — and your enemies will fall
before you (Speech of Dionysius the Phoccean : the transposition is intended
to convey the idea that the orator's words are not premeditated, but extorted
by the urgency of the occasion. Indicate the natural arrangement). — The
fishers also shall mourn, and all they that cast angle into the brooks shall
lament (Isa. xix. 8). — Thou hast hid their heart from understanding (Job
xvii. 4).

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Professor Macbeth's "The Might and Mirth of Literature, a
Treatise on Figurative Language ; " Longinus on the Sublime.

276 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

LESSON XXVI.

FIGURES OF RESEMBLANCE.

A metaphor is pleasant, for that it enriches our knowledge with two things at
once, — with the Truth and a similitude: And there is nothing in the whole uni-
verse from whence the Simile may not be taken. — SMITH'S Mystery of Rhetorick
Unveil' d.

An unmetaphorical style you shall in vain seek for. The difference lies here :
Some styles are lean, adust, wiry, the muscle itself seems osseous : some are even
quite pallid, hunger-bitten, and dead-looking : while others again glow in the flush
of health and vigorous self -growth, sometimes not without an apoplectic tendency. —
Sartor' Resartus.

Figures of Rhetoric Proper are intentional deviations
from the ordinary application of words, suggested by some
principle of association. Thoughts, as has been shown
(p. 50), have power to excite one another if they stand
in the relation of similarity, of contrast, of cause and
effect, of means to an end, of whole and part ; if coex-
istent or immediately successive in time ; if their objects
are adjoining in space. On these venerable principles is
logically founded the classification of rhetorical figures ;
for it is always some association that turns the thought
from its usual to its unusual signification.

Figures of rhetoric may therefore be considered under
the heads of Resemblance, Contiguity, and Contrast. The
figures of resemblance are Simile, Metaphor, and Personi-
fication.

Simile, or Poetic Comparison, declares one thing to be
like another, — directly, by stating the resemblance with
the indicators like, as, or so ; indirectly, without any such

FIGURES OF RESEMBLANCE. 2JJ

formal term. In either case, two images are brought
simultaneously before the mind. We see one in the
other ; and this is always a source of mental pleasure,
provided there be no confusion.

When simile contributes to energy as well as -to clear-
ness, it does so by meeting the requirements of economy.
Apt comparison saves the effort involved in construing
a long literal explanation. The picture presented, if ap-
propriate, is instantly realized as an interpreting instru-
mentality.

The three forms of direct simile are illustrated in the following
extracts : —

Longfellow, in "The Golden Legend," represents Prince Henry
as saying to Elsie : —

" Thy words fall from thy lips
Like roses from the lips of Angelo; and angels
Might stoop to pick them up ! "

As the moist scent of flowers, and grass, and leaves,

Fills forest dells with a pervading air

Known to the woodland nostril, so the words

Of Saturn fill'd the mossy glooms around,

Even to the hollows of time-eaten oaks,

And to the windings of the foxes' hole,

With sad, low tones.

KEATS'S Reconstruction of Hyperion.

Catullus bids his faithless Lesbia adieu in an ode which closes
with one of the most finished of classical similes : —

"Nor give that love a thought which I
So nursed for thee in days gone by,
Now by thy guile slain in an hour,
E'en as some little wilding flower,
That on the meadow's border blushed,
Is by the passing plowshare crushed."

2/8 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Indirect Similes. — By a psychological principle, the
human mind finds delight in detecting for itself the re-
semblance indicated so broadly in the foregoing figures ;
hence, if the link of comparison be suppressed, the effect
is correspondingly heightened. Thus the compiler of the
Sanskrit collection of fables known as " Hitopadesa "
(Friendly Advice), illustrates the virtue of forgiveness : —

" The good man, who thinks only of benefiting his enemy, entertains no
feelings of hostility even when in the act of being destroyed by him. The
sandal tree, at the moment of being cut down, sheds perfume on the edge of
the ax."

And Shakespeare employs a simile in the closing
couplet of Sonnet xciv., without directly indicating it : —

" For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds :
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds."

Still more beautiful are those indirect similes in which
a resemblance is pictured by the use of the comparative
degree. This form of the figure occurs in our literature
from the poetry of Chaucer to that of Tennyson, being
especially affected by the Elizabethan dramatists. Thus,
from " The Lotos-Eaters," —

" There is sweet music here that softer falls
Than petals from blown roses on the grass,
Or night-dews on still waters between walls
Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass ;
Music \hztgentlier on the spirit lies,
Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes."

The True Office of the Figure of Resemblance would
seem to be the bringing together of widely different con-
ceptions because of a perceived similarity between them.
In all active minds, groups of images, many of them

FIGURES OF RESEMBLANCE. 279

representing remote relations, keep spontaneously pre-
senting themselves. "The quick discernment of resem-
blance here," said Aristotle in his " Poetics," " is a certain
mark of genius;" and MacFarlane lays down the canon,
that " the greatest poetry results from maximum remove
with maximum similarity." The point is well illustrated
in Donne's pithy sentence, " A fly with a candle does as
a fool with money ; " or by Shakespeare's approximation
of dissociated images in these lines from " Romeo and
Juliet : "—

"O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright.
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear ;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! "

Metaphor, or Poetic Transfer, indicates the resem-
blance of two objects by applying- the name, attribute, or
act, of one directly to the other ; it is the transferring of a
name from that to which it properly belongs to another
object which strikes the mind as having the same peculi-
arities ; as in the following, from Longfellow's " Golden
Legend : " —

"The grave itself is but a covered bridge

Leading from light to light through a brief darkness."

In a passage of " The Jew of Malta," Marlowe causes
Barabas to translate a figure, thus nicely illustrating the
contrast between the plain and the ornamental dress : —

" Now will I show myself
To have more of the serpent than the dove ;
That is — more knave than fool."

Deep-rooted prejudice, unbridled passion, scattered wits, rigid
rules, fiery temper, touching scene, sharp-toothed ingratitude, seeds
of dissension, — are familiar examples of this, the commonest of all

280 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

figures. Through the facilities it offers for explanation and descrip-
tion, we have come to apply to inanimate objects the names of parts
of the human body ; as, The leg of a table, The back of a sofa, The
arm of a chair, The teeth of a comb, The eye of a needle, The tongue
of a buckle, The ears of a jar, The lip of a bottle, The face of a note,
The head of a pin, The body of an essay, The heart of an apple, The
joints of machinery, The ligaments of a language, The breast of a
wave, The ribs of an umbrella, The knees of a ship, The elbow of
a water pipe, The foot and shoulder of a mountain.

It is noticeable that the majority of metaphors are borrowed from
the sensations of vision. The sense of hearing being very unsuggest-
ive of appropriate words, the qualities of sounds are largely described
in language that literally explains the sensations of sight, smell, taste,
and touch ; as, A sweet tone, A soft voice, A sharp scream. Reversing
the process, persons born without sight fall back on hearing for their
resemblances ; as in the case of a blind man who described the feel
of red as like the blast of a trumpet, that is, harsh to the sensitive
nerves of his fingers. These illustrations prove the dependence of
language on the process of transfer.

Occasionally we meet with a new metaphor of scientific origin,
like A^foral anesthesia, Literary antinomianism. Herbert Spencer
speaks of "the white light of truth, in traversing the many-sided
transparent soul of the poet," as "refracted into iris-hued poetry."
Earl Russell regarded the House of Commons as the safety valve of
society. Such metaphors are terse, concrete, and highly energetic.

Metaphor preferred to Simile. — Of the two figures,
simile and metaphor, the latter is preferred, not only as
being more picturesque, more economical, and more con-
crete, but because the resemblance, instead of being indi-
cated directly, is implied in the language used. As in
the case of the indirect simile, the mind of the reader is
gratified by discovering the likeness for itself. When,
however, there is danger of obscurity from the use of the
metaphor alone, poets sometimes make clear the appli-
cation of their imagery by introducing an explanatory
simile. Scott, in the following lines from " Rokeby,"

FIGURES OF RESEMBLANCE. 28 1

descriptive of a morbid fancy, effectively blends these
two figures : —

" 'Tis Fancy wakes some idle thought,
To gild the ruin she has wrought ;
For, like the bat of Indian brakes,
Her pinions fan the wound she makes,
And soothing thus the dreamer's pain,
She drinks his lifeblood from the vein."

After introducing an explanatory simile in the third line,
the poet goes on to apply to his subject language which
literally describes the vampire, and which, without the
simile, would be obscure. In all such combinations, the
clearness of the simile, united to the concrete directness
of the metaphor, insures the highest effect.

Personification, or Personal Metaphor, consists in the
transfer of names, attributes, or actions, that imply life
or intelligence. Such transfer is calculated to awaken
in the mind of the reader some form of feeling toward
the object personified. " When the poet hears the storm
cloud muttering, and sees the moonlight sleeping on the
bank, he transfers his experience of human phenomena
to the cloud and the moonlight ; he personifies, draws
Nature within the circle of emotion."

Personifying attributes are illustrated in such expressions as
Green-kyrtled spring {Keats), — Glad-hearted surges {Lowell), —
Smiling gardens (Thomson), — Music-maddened Night (Swinburne),
— Weeping Fancy, Quick-eyed Love, Whispering Wind.

Personal action is transferred in the following extracts : —

Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc,
Red Battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock.

BYRON.

Glowworms began to trim their starry lamps.

Endymion.

282 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

•

Inanimate objects, when addressed as if they could understand
and reply, are personified. Thus, in the sonnet of Sir Philip Sidney : —

"With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face !
Sure, if that long-with-Love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of Love, thou feel'st a Lover's case."

Allegory (saying another thing), Parable (comparison),
and Fable, are forms of composition in which kindred
metaphors or personifications are the medium of narra-
tion. In each case, the real differs from the apparent
meaning. Perspicuity and dignity are the essentials of
these three kinds of narration, which are favorite vehicles
for conveying practical lessons on moral and religious
truth. Bunyan's " The Pilgrim's Progress " is the greatest
allegory in English ; and Spenser's " The Faerie Queene,"
in which vices and virtues are personified, is our greatest
allegorical poem.

The parables of Christ, being metaphorical, are liter-
ally false ; that is, their exterior imagery is fictitious.
But through this imagery, which was drawn from the
objects and scenes about him, — the hills and streams,
the skies and stars and storms, the fields and the flora,
of Palestine, — the figurative sense is plainly discernible.
It was easier for the masses to understand the similitude
than the abstract truth.

QUESTIONS.

Under what three heads may the figures of rhetoric be classed?
Show the relation here to Aristotle's laws of association. Which of
these laws explains the force of simile? Define simile. How many
forms of direct simile are there ? Illustrate each. According to what
psychological principle are the indirect forms of the figure preferred?
Illustrate similes without the link of comparison ; similes formed by

FIGURES OF RESEMBLANCE. 283

the use of the comparative degree. Explain the true office of the fig-
ure of resemblance. All comparisons may be divided into explanatory
and embellishing. State the value of the former (see p. 94). Show
that the latter are used, not so much for instruction and explanation
as for imaginative effect.

Define and illustrate metaphor. Show how common the figure is.
Give instances of scientific metaphors. Of the two figures, simile and
metaphor, which is preferred, and why? How do poets secure the
double effect of the two figures? Explain personification. Give ex-
amples of different forms of this figure. Are allegory, parable, and
fable, to be regarded as figures? Define each. State the essentials of
each.

EXERCISE.

Point out the figures that occur in the following extracts, discuss-
ing the rhetorical value of each figure or combination : —

The bridegroom sea

Is toying with the shore, his wedded bride ;
Retires a space to see how fair she looks,
Then, proud, runs up to kiss her.

ALEXANDER SMITH.

Oh ! thou art fairer than the evening air,
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars ;
Brighter art thou than naming Jupiter
When he appeared to hapless Semele ;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms.

From the Evocation of Helen in MARLOWE'S Faustus.

Even to foes who visit us as guests,

Due hospitality should be displayed ;

The tree screens with its leaves the man who fells it.

Mah&bh&rata.

Proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim {Shakespeare}. — All through
life there are wayside inns, where man may refresh his soul with lore {Long-
fellow'}. — Literature is a garden, books are particular views of it, and read-
ers are visitors ( Willmotf). — From the bastion'd walls, like threaded spiders,
one by one we dropt ( Tennyson). — Where no wood is, there the fire goeth
out; where there is no talebearer, the strife ceaseth (Prov. xxvi. 20). — Be-

284 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

hold, this stone shall be a witness unto us ; for it hath heard all the words of
the Lord which he spake unto us (Josh. xxiv. 27). — Give, it is like God
( Tupper*). — Personification is a sort of literary galvanism ( Colquhoun}. —
No mud can soil us but the mud we throw (Lowell'}. — Play for the cat,
tears for the mouse (Slavonic Proverb). — The ass complains of the cold
even in July ( Talmud}. — With what cracked pitchers go we to deep wells
in this world (Mrs. Browning). — Death-dumb autumn, dripping gloom
(Tennyson), — Smothering fancies (Keats}. — " Right! " he exploded,
with the condensed emphasis of a rifle (Lowell, of Landor}. — This body,
wasting away every moment, is not perceived to decay, like a jar of unbaked
clay standing in water ; its dissolution is known when it has dissolved (Hito*
padesa*),

Come back, ye friendships long departed !
That like o'erflowing streamlets started,
And now are dwindled, one by one,
To stony channels in the sun.

The Golden Legend.

Yon mossy rosebud doun the howe,

Just op'ning fresh and bonny,
Blinks sweetly neath the hazel bough,

An's scarcely seen by ony :
Sae, sweet amidst her native hills,
Obscurely blooms my Jeanie —
Mair fair an gay than rosy May,
The flower o' Arranteenie.

TANNAHILL.

Our dangers and delights are near allies ;
From the same stem the rose and prickle rise.

Aleyn.

Too popular is tragic poesie,
Straining his tiptoes for a farthing fee.

BISHOP HALL.

And what is love? It is a doll dress'd up
For idleness to cosset, nurse, and dandle.

KEATS.

To tyrant Fashion mark
The costly worship paid.

THOMSON'S Liberty.

FIGURES OF RESEMBLANCE. 285

Pines she like to the hyacinth on the path by the hilltop ;
Shepherds tread it aside, and its purple lies lost on the herbage.

SAPPHO.

The primrose, ere her time,
Peeps thro' the moss that clothes the hawthorne root.

COWPER.

One long bar

Of purple cloud, on which the evening star
Shone like a jewel on a scimiter,
Held the sky's golden gateway. Through the deep
Hush of the woods, a murmur seemed to creep,
The Schuylkill whispering in a voice of sleep —
All else was still.

WHITTIER.

The passions of youth, like unhooded hawks, fly high with musical bells
upon their jesses; and we forget the cruelty of the sport in the dauntless
bearing of the gallant bird. — LONGFELLOW'S Hyperion.

As in an army on the march, the fighting columns are placed front and
rear, and the baggage in the center, so the emphatic parts of a sentence
should be found either in the beginning or in the end, subordinate and
matter-of-course expressions in the middle ( Quoted by Minto}. — The best
of them is as a brier : the most upright is sharper than a thorn hedge ( Mic.
vii. 4). — To tithe mint and cumin {Refer to Matt, xxiii. 23). — The ancient
religions of the world were but the milk of nature, which was in due time to
be succeeded by the bread of life {Max Miiller). — All the beauties of his
pencil seem cast in the same golden mint of artistic creation {Devey, of Ten-
nyson'}. — The smallest pebble head of doubt {Keats'}. — No fountain is so
small but that heaven may be imaged in its bosom {Hawthorne}.

It is suggested that each student collect from the books daily con-
sulted striking examples of various figures, and present the same for
examination by the class.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

"The Evolution of Figures of Speech1' in "Modern Language
Notes," iii. 251 ; Dr. George C. D. Odell's " Simile and Metaphor
in the English and Scottish Ballads " (Columbia College).

286 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

LESSON XXVII.

FIGURES OF CONTIGUITY

Objects adjacent in place stand to each other in a relation of affinity. Thoughts
of the whole and the parts, of the thing and its properties, of the sign and the thing
signified, reciprocally suggest each other. Cause and effect stand in the closest
affinity ; and therefore whatever phenomena are subsumed under this relation, as
indeed under all relations, are consequently also in affinity. — SIR WILLIAM HAM-
ILTON.

Figures of Contiguity are figures based on relations
other than those of resemblance and contrast ; they com-
prise Metonymy, Vision, Apostrophe, Hyperbole, and
Exclamation.

Metonymy is the exchange of names between things
related by the " affinities " of —

I. Whole and Part, part and whole, definite and indefi-
nite number. This form of the figure is known as synec-
doche (sin-ek'do-ke, an understanding one with another, i.e.,
an indirect mode of expression). Its force lies in its more
accurate or specific presentation of the idea. If, for
instance, we say, " Busy fingers toiled on," instead of
" Busy women," the operatives are suggested in the spe-
cial act intended, and economy is secured ; so in " A fleet
of ten sail," "A village of a hundred chimneys," "All
hands to the pumps." Great concreteness is also gained
when the name of an individual is substituted for that
of the class to which he belongs ; as, " A second Daniel
come to judgment ! " This special form of name change is
called Antonoma'sia.

FIGURES OF CONTIGUITY. 287

II. Place and Product ; as, " Drown'd all in Rhenish
and the sleepy mead."

III. Place or Time and Inhabitant : "Was Milan (the
duke) thrust from Milan?" (Tempest^

And its steps well worn by the bended knees
Of one or two pious centuries,
Stands the village confessional.

LONGFELLOW.

IV. Thing and Properties ; as, " Gray hairs and youth-
ful forms, countenances blooming with health and faces
worn with suffering, beauty and talent, rank and virtue,
were rolled together to the fatal doors " (Alison], (Note
also the synecdoches and their force.)

V. Cause and Effect ; as, " Death fell in showers "
(bullets). This relation includes those of Author and
Book ; as in Wordsworth's —

"Among the hills

He gazed upon that mighty orb of song,
The divine Milton.'1'1

Of Progenitor and Posterity ; as, " Hear, O Israel ! " (de-
scendants of Israel.)

VI. Sign and Thing Signified ; as, " The pen is
mightier than the sword" (intellect than violence). — "It
had passed the lily and the snow" (youth and age —
Keats). — "There's no leaping from DelilaJts lap to Abra-
ham s bosom" (no transit from a life of sensuality to one
of eternal joy). The concrete force of metonymy is con-
spicuous in the foregoing examples.

VII. Material and Thing Made ; as, " Swiftly flies the
threaded sf eel" (the needle — Cowper). — "That^v/

must round engirt these brows of thine " (Henry VI.}.

288 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

VIII. Container and Thing Contained ; as, "The war-
whoop shall wake the sleep of the cradle (Ames). — " War-
bling woodland" (Beattie).

IX. Instrument and Agent ; as, " Even bayonets
think" (Kossut/i). — "And the good Galin Garcia, stout
lance of Aragon " (the Cid).

X. Antecedent and Consequent ; as, " Troy was, we
were Trojans," the pathetic words used by Virgil in his
description of the sack of Troy. (Compare the effect of
"Troy is no longer, the Trojan race is exterminated.")
In Matthew Arnold's " Thyrsis," a monody on the death
of his friend, Arthur Hugh Clough, occurs, the following
example of this form : — .

" He went ; his piping took a troubled sound
Of storms that rage outside our happy ground ;
He could not wait their passing, he is dead."

Metonymy is 3. commonplace as well as a poetical figure, and is
as old as metaphor ; examples of it occurring in the Egyptian picture
writing. Among the metonymies in everyday use are many like the
following : " The kettle is boiling," i.e., the water in the kettle; " The
lamp is burning;" "The bench (judge) should be incorruptible;"
"He sets a good table;" "The house was called to order;" "Red
tape," i.e., the routine of office ; " Gold is all-powerful ; " " A copy of
Virgil ; " "To catch cold " (cold is the cause of what is caught, viz.,
bronchitis) ; "A yard of alpaca " (alpaca being the name of the ani-
mal that yields the wool) ; "A copper," "A nickel," "A guinea" (origi-
nally coined from Guinea gold), "An eagle," "A sovereign," "A
Louis," "Rubbers," "Gums," " Kids" (gloves), "Glasses," " Sham-
my," " Marbles," " Sherry," " Port," " Madeira," " Cologne " (water),
"Damask," "Currant" (the Corinth berry), "Demijohn" (from
Damajahri), " Muslin" (from Moussoul}, "Vichy," — and hundreds of
others based on the relation of place and product. Even the expres-
sion, " Raise the window," hides a metonymy; a window being really
an opening for light and air, which is closed by a sash.

Striking metonymies are often expressed in adjectives joined to

FIGURES OF CONTIGUITY. 289

nouns ; as, " Nodding night " (night that causes one to nod), — " Cow-
ard swords " (swords of those who are cowardly), — " Weary way," -
" Idle bed," — "Vocal grove" (birds in the grove), — "Melancholy
darkness," — "Dizzy precipice.'' These are to be carefully distin-
guished from metaphors (see p. 279) and from personifications (see
p. 281) similar in appearance. Test them by asking questions that
will discover the relation. Thus: Is it better to regard " sleepy ser-
mon " as a personification, or as a metonymy meaning sermon that
makes the congregation sleepy ? In " slumbering trees," and " frozen
conscience," the relation is evidently that of resemblance.

Vision (of the mind's eye) describes a past or future
event as present, as actually taking place before the eyes ;
the association is obvious. The imagination here sweeps
aside all distinctions of time, and thus adds animation
to description. Even real events must be conceived as
present, and passing in our sight, before they can move
us deeply : —

Lochiel ! Lochiel ! beware of the day
When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array !
For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,
And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight.

CAMPBELL.

Apostrophe is a turning from the regular course of the
narrative to address some real or imaginary person or
object. The association is that of the absent with the
present, the diversion implying that whatever is addressed
is separate or absent from the thread of the discourse.
Thus David, having in the second Psalm denounced God's
judgments upon rebellious monarchs, turns from his ar-
raignment to address the guilty ones themselves : " Thou
shalt break them with a rod of iron ; thou shalt dash them
in pieces like a potter's vessel. Be wise now therefore,
O ye kings : be instructed, ye judges of the earth."

QUACK. RHET. — 19

2QO FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Hyperbole (hy -per' bole, a throwing beyond or passing of
bounds] is, according to Quintilian, an "elegant surpass-
ing of truth," based on the affinity between strong feeling
and exaggerated expression. " Every strong passion," says
Bain, " magnifies whatever concerns it. Love, fear, hatred,
exaggerate their several objects in proportion to their in-
tensity." The intention is not to deceive, but to render
more vivid and intelligible.

Thus Othello : -

" Ay, let her rot, and perish to-night ; for she shall not live : no, my heart
is turned to stone ; I strike it, and it hurts my hand."

And how delicate the compliment in this line from
" The Courtship of Miles Standish," —

" Every sentence began and closed with the name of Priscilla.'"

Mei'osis. — Exaggeration is one form of hyperbole;
figurative depreciation is another. The latter is known
as Meiosis (lessening). By seeming to belittle, we really
secure greater emphasis ; we forcibly express an affirma-
tive by asserting the negative of a contrary ; as, " He is
no fool." — " But with many of them God was not well
pleased " (i.e., sorely displeased). — " And thou Bethlehem,
in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes
of Juda" (meaning the greatest). Exaggeration implies
less than is expressed ; meiosis, more.

Abuse of Hyperbole. In the words of Ruskin, " exag-
geration is the vice of all bad artists, and is constantly
resorted to without any warrant of imagination." The
fifth act of Ben Jonson's " Sejanus " introduces the unscru'
pulous minister, swollen with pride and self-satisfaction,
giving utterance to this bombastic soliloquy : —

FIGURES OF CONTIGUITY. 29 1

" Great and high,

The world knows only two, that's Rome and I.
My roof receives me not ; 'tis air I tread ;
And, at each step, I feel my advanced head
Knock out a star in heaven ! "

This is ludicrous ; but the bombast of Marlowe's
" Tamburlaine " is overpowering. This tragedy culmi-
nates in the appearance of Tamburlaine on the stage,
drawn in his chariot by captive kings with bits in their
mouths. The " Scourge of God," holding the reins in his
left hand, and plying with his right a whip of wire, intro-
duces himself with the words : —

" Hollo, ye pampered jades of Asia ! "

and continues in a passage that well illustrates the majesty
of " Marlowe's mighty line : " —

" Forward, ye jades !
Now crouch, ye kings of greatest Asia,
And tremble when ye hear this Scourge will come
That whips down cities and controuleth crowns,
Adding their wealth and treasure to my store. . . .
Then shall my native city, Samarcanda,
The crystal waves of fresh Jaertis' stream,
The pride and beauty of her princely seat,
Be famous through the furthest continents. . . .
Thorough the streets with troops of conquered kings,
I'll ride in golden armor like the sun,
And in my helm a triple plume shall spring
Spangled with diamonds, dancing in the air,
To nbte me emperor of the threefold world."

Rodomontade and hyperbole are of extremely frequent occurrence
in everyday conversation and writing. Apart from all moral consid-
erations, this prevailing habit of exaggeration is most pernicious in
its effects when it becomes stereotyped into the established manner of
thinking and speaking. Persons who indulge in it seem to float at an

2Q2 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

unnatural level, where everything is magnificent, awful, splendid,
agonizing, — where immensely small feet trip heavenly waltzes ; where,
when young ladies become excruciatingly hungry, youths with divine
mustaches have been known to tender elegant bouillon, sublime chicken
salad, or heart-rending tea ; where the favored are permitted to love
apple charlotte, and adore fried potatoes ; where one is tickled to
pieces with the gorgeous costumes, and another dies a laughing at the
exquisitely ugly pug dogs. Thanks awfully is the accepted way of
expressing obligation in this circle ; and holy terror characterizes him
who transcends the offensive in his abuse of the figure.

The rhetorical hyperbole — which is the natural outlet for an over-
heated imagination, and which at its best must be grudgingly used — is
here degraded into mawkish bombast, and marks a mental defect sad
to contemplate in American young people.

Exclamation is the expression of emotion or strong
desire, often with a view to pathetic effect. With such
expression, certain sentence forms are associated : " Oh
that I had wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away,
and be at rest " (Ps. Iv. 6). — " How doth the city sit soli-
tary, that was full of people! how is she become as a
widow!" (Lam. i. I.)

The Numerous Relations on which are founded these
figures of contiguity suggest the facility with which the
human mind may be diverted from one thing to another
essentially different, in order to convey to it clearly and
forcibly, through the substituted idea, the intended im-
pression.

QUESTIONS.

On what relations are figures of contiguity based? What is the
meaning of the word metonymy? What relations justify such name
change? Define and illustrate "Synecdoche. Explain its force. Illus-
trate the relation of place and product ; of place or time and inhabit-
ant; of thing and properties; of cause and effect; of sign and thing
signified ; of material and thing made ; of container and thing con-
tained ; of instrument and agent ; of antecedent and consequent.

FIGURES OF CONTIGUITY. 293

Give instances of commonplace metonymies ; of metonymies in
adjectives. How are the latter distinguished from metaphors and
personifications? What is vision? What is apostrophe? Define
hyperbole. By what is it explained ? What is its object ? Explain the
two forms in which it occurs. Illustrate meiosis. In what ways may
hyperbole be abused? Define and illustrate exclamation.

EXERCISE.

Feint out the figures that occur in the following expressions and
sentences, explaining the rhetorical value of each : —

Lazy noon. — Stark night. — Yellow autumn wreathed with nodding corn.

— Thirsty ground. — Velvet cowslip. — Rubied lip. — Heaven-kissing hill. —
Sleepy language. — Gray-hooded Ev'n. — Swill'd insolence. — Envious Dark-
ness. — Musty morals. — Rosy-bosom'd Hours. — Marble sleep. — New-born
June. — Ivory brow. — Devouring pains. — Merry bowl. — Giddy brink. —
Frowning Fortune. — Gloomy brow. — Sullen winds. — Scowling Winter. —
Pale misery. — Innocent snow. — Dewy-tassell'd trees. — Nice-fingered Art.

— Idle flight. — Deadly rattle. — Muddy spleen. — Strong-lung'd ignorance.

— Delirious music. — Gossiping looms. — Mellow noise. — Tangled skeins of
rain. — Shrill-edged shriek. — Pure-eyed Faith. — Heartsick agony. — Moon-
struck madness. — Winged words. — Trembling contribution. — Pensive dusk.

— Thistly sorrow.

Even rocks and stones
Would split, if my heart's fire were pent within.

LANDOR.

And like a flower that cannot all unfold,
So drenched it is with tempest.

TENNYSON.

He was ; and motionless in death

As that unconscious clay,
Robber of so mighty breath,

In speechless ruin lay.

MANZONI'S Ode on the Death of Napoleon.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever {Keats), — His banner led the spears
no more amidst the hills of Spain {Hemans~). — The mountains shall drop down
new wine, and the hills shall flow with milk {Joel iii. 18). — After whom is
the king of Israel come out ? after a dead dog, after a flea ? (/ Sam. xxiv. 14).

294 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

— The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold {Byron). — 'Twas then
his threshold first received a guest (Fame!/). — The seventh man who
jumped from the Brooklyn Bridge (Dec. 8, 1892) crossed to the New- York
side in a cab. In describing what happened, the driver testified: "I looked
behind, and saw my fare standing on the iron railing." — Rubbing their
sleepy eyes with lazy wrists {Keats'). — Whose feet they hurt with fetters:
he was laid in iron (Ps. cv. 18). — But the tongue can no man tame (yas.
iii. 8). — Their feet run to evil {Prov. i. 16).

Like a tempest down the ridges
Swept the hurricane of steel.

AYTOUN'S Killiecrankie.

Then I sat and teased
The patient needle till it split the thread.

Aurora Leigh.

Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

EMERSON.

In " The Lay of the Last Minstrel'1 the poet leaves the narrative

at the opening of the fourth canto, to address the river : —

- •. '

" Sweet Teviot ! on thy silver tide

The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride

Along thy wild and willowed shore.
Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill,

All, all, is peaceful, all is still."

•

Meanwhile welcome joy, and feast,

Midnight shout, and revelry,

Tipsy dance, and jollity.

Braid your locks with rosy twine,

Dropping odors, dropping wine.

Rigor now is gone to bed,

And Advice with scrupulous head,

Strict Age, and sour Severity,

With their grave saws in slumber lie.

MILTON'S Comns.

FIGURES OF CONTRAST. 295

LESSON XXVIII.

FIGURES OF CONTRAST. — ONOMATOPOEIA. —ALLITERATION.

Contrast has always this effect, to make each of the contrasted objects appear
in the stronger light. — DR. BLAIR.

To extirpate antithesis from literature would be to destroy at one stroke about
eight tenths of all the wit, ancient and modern, now existing in the world. — COLTON.

The Figures of Contrast are Antithesis, Epigram,
Climax, Epanortho'sis, Irony (i'ro-ne), and Interrogation.

Antithesis is tJie placing of oppositcs% together, to heighten
their effect by the juxtaposition; as in these lines from
Othello: —

" But, oh ! what damned minutes tells he o'er,
Who dotes, yet doubts ; suspects, yet strongly loves."

The following passage from Ruskin's address before
the Royal Military Academy displays to advantage the
emphasis imparted by this figure : —

" Suppose that you are the best part of England ; that you who have
become the slaves ought to have been the masters, and that those who are
the masters ought to have been the slaves ! If it is a noble and whole-
hearted England whose bidding you are bound to do, it is well ; but if you
are yourselves the best of her heart, and the England you have left be but a
half-hearted England, how say you of your obedience ? You were too proud
to become shop-keepers ; are you satisfied then to become the servants of
shop-keepers ? You were too proud to become merchants or farmers ; will
you have merchants or farmers for your field-marshals ? You had no gifts
of special grace for Exeter Hall ; will you have some gifted person thereat
for your commander-in-chief ? You imagine yourselves to be the army of
England : how, if you should find yourselves at last only the police of her
manufacturing towns, and the beadles of her little Bethels ? "

Sometimes the order of the contrasted words is reversed in the
second member of the antithesis; as, " A wit with dunces, and a dunce

296 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

with wits" {Pope). This arrangement is known as Chiasmus (ki-as'-
mus, from a Greek verb meaning to mark with cross lines) ; it does
not necessarily imply antithesis in the pairs; thus, "Foretold by
prophets, and by poets sung" (Cowper^s Task).

Mere verbal opposition is never so impressive as contrast in the
approximated ideas. Herein lies the philosophy of high effect, applied
in indicating nice distinctions in the "delineation of character, in de-
scription generally, and in pathetic narration. It would be difficult
to find more impressive illustrations of contrast in the idea than the
two herewith presented : —

Look like the innocent flo-wer ,
But be the serpent under it.

Lady Macbeth.

How he doth cast a hellish light
On what a moment since seemed sweet as flowers.

MARLOWE'S Faustus.

The popularity of this figure, and its value as an aid to memory,
may be inferred from the fact that many of our old Saxon proverbs
are antithetical in form ; as, Waste not, want not, — Meddle and
muddle, — Harm watch, harm catch, — Forewarned, forearmed. Anti-
thetical parallelism, in which words answer to words, and ideas to
ideas, is also a distinctive feature of Hebrew verse, and occurs re-
peatedly in those parts of the Bible that are poetic in form, notably
the Psalms and Proverbs. Thus : —

"The lip of truth shall be established for ever:
But a lying tongue is but for a moment."

" Wealth maketh many friends ;
But the poor is separated from his neighbor."

The Excessive Use of Antithesis is an offensive man-
nerism, the tendency of which is to divert the composer's
effort from the thought to the form, and to weary the
reader by a monotonous balance structure. " One gets
tired," wrote Lowell, "of the invariable this set off by

FIGURES OF CONTRAST. 297

the inevitable that, and wishes that antithesis would let
him have a little quiet now and then."

Epigram, or Oxymo'ron (sharp silly saying), is a peculiar
kind of antithesis implying a contradiction between the
real and the apparent meaning. The paradox first occa-
sions pleasant surprise, then awakens interest, and serves
further to rivet in the memory the sense expressed in
the contradiction. Oxymoron characterizes the following :
"Banditti saints " (the Crusaders — Thomson's Liberty). —
" O known Unknown ! from whom my being sips such
darling essence" (Keats). — "There the richest was poor,
and the poorest lived in abundance" (implying that prop-
erty was common at Grand Pre — Evangeline).

His honor rooted in dishonor stood,
And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.

Elaine,

Common instances of this figure are : Pious fraud, — Conspicuous
for his absence, — Make haste slowly, — Beauty when unadorned's
adorned the most, — So good, he's good for nothing, — Out-herod
Herod (from the efforts of rival companies in the time of the Miracle
Plays to outdo one another in the presentation of King Herod).

Climax (gradation}, the rhetorical ladder, contrasts
through the medium of different degrees of importance,
placing last the most striking of any series of images.
Spencer thus explains the philosophy of the effect : " As
immediately after looking at the sun we cannot perceive
the light of a fire, while by looking at the fire first and
the sun afterward, we can perceive both ; so, after receiv-
ing a brilliant, or weighty, or terrible thought, we cannot
appreciate a less brilliant, less weighty, or less terrible
one, while by reversing the order we can appreciate
each."

298 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

An instance of intense climax occurs in " Cicero's Oration against
Verres : " " It is an outrage to bind a Roman citizen, to scourge him is
an atrocious crime, to put htm to death is almost a parricide, but to
crucify him — what shall I call it ? " The successive steps by which
the orator intended to bring his Roman hearers up to the contempla-
tion of crucifixion were nicely calculated to rouse them to the highest
pitch of indignation.

The poetical beauty of the figure is revealed in the last stanza of
Burns's " Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn : " —

" The bridegroom may forget the bride

Was made his wedded wife yestreen ;
The monarch may forget the crown

That on his head an hour has been ;
The mother may forget the child

That smiles sae sweetly on her knee ;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,

And a' that thou hast done for me ! "

The principle of rising by successive degrees applies, as has been
made evident, to the sentence, to the paragraph, and to the entire
composition. A sermon, a romance, a play, gradually gathers interest
to the denouement.

Anticlimax. — When the ideas in a series fall in im-
portance or interest, we have anticlimax, which, if inten-
tional, constitutes a figure ; if not, the faulty arrangement
already condemned. Anticlimax is often conducive to
humorous effect : —

" Then flashed the livid lightning from her eyes,
And screams of horror rend the affrighted skies.
Not louder shrieks to pitying Heaven are cast,
When husbands, or when lapdogs, breathe their last !
Or when rich china vessels, fallen from high,
In glittering dust and painted fragments lie ! "

Epanorthosis (correction}, the recalling of a statement
in order to correct or intensify it, partakes of the nature

FIGURES OF CONTRAST. 299

of climax ; as, " I labored more abundantly than they all :
yet not /, but the grace of God which was with me " (/ Cor.
xv. 10). So in " Romeo and Juliet : " "O love ! O life !
— not life, but love in death!"

Irony (literally dissimulation] expresses the reverse of
what is intended to be understood, but in such a way as
to emphasize the falsity of what it assumes to be true.
It is the "dry mock" or "mocking trope" of early
writers, and owes its force to the fact that no answer can
be made to its caustic sarcasm. Perhaps no better illus-
tration of ironical ridicule exists than Elijah's mockery of
the priests of Baal, who were endeavoring by sacrifices
and prayers to draw a manifestation of power from their
false god : " Cry aloud : for he is a god ; either he is
talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or perad-
venture he sleepeth, and must be awaked. And they
cried aloud, and cut themselves after their manner with
knives and lancets." In like manner, Micaiah bids Ahab
"go against Ramoth-gilead to battle . . . Go, and pros-
per," i.e., go and perish (7 Kings xxii. i 5).

Whittier, in " The Prisoner for Debt," cried down the existing
law with withering irony : —

" What has the gray-haired prisoner done ?
Has murder stained his hands with gore ?
Not so ; his crime's a fouler one —
God made the old man poor."

Interrogation is a rhetorical device for denying by
means of an affirmative question, and strongly affirming
by means of a negative question. It compels the answer
desired, and is appropriate to earnest speech. The con-
trast consists in the negative form with a positive mean-

300 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

ing, and vice versa. Thus : " Can the rush grow up with-
out mire? can the flag grow without water?" —"If thou
do well, shalt thou not be accepted ? " — " Is any thing
too hard for the Lord ? "

The figure is sometimes expostulatory, and indicates emotional
tension, as in "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
Occasionally it is expressive of doubt: "Will the Lord cast off for
ever? and will he be favorable no more?" In such passages as the
following from Isaiah, it has been called the " teaching question : "
" Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their win-
dows?" (implying the glory of the church in the flocking of the
Gentiles unto Christ.)

Onomatopoeia, literally name making by sound imita-
tion, is not mere melody which gratifies the ear, but har-
mony between the movement of the language employed
and the sentiments of the mental movements. The sounds
of words may represent, not only other sounds, as in Foe's
" Bells," but different kinds of motion, and every phase
of feeling or passion. Tiresome and rapid motion is imi-
tated in these lines from " Evangeline : "

"Slowly, slowly, slowly, the days succeeded each other."

" Merrily, merrily, whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances."

And Thomson thus pictures the tremulous movement of
insects : —

" Nor shall the Muse disdain
To let the little noisy summer race
Live in her lay andy?«/ter through her song."

The description of the electric storm in "The Princess" com-
bines sound with movement effect : —

ONOMATOPCEIA. 301

"And shadowing down the champaign till it strikes
On a wood, and takes, and breaks, and cracks, and splits
And twists the grain with such a roar that Earth
Reels, and the herdsmen cry."

The Highest Function of Onomatopoeia consists in the
adaptation of the sound of the words employed to the
emotion, passion, or mental state described. How skill-
fully, for instance, does Tennyson, in "The Lotos-Eaters,"
represent the dreamy, listless life of those who were
fabled to feed on the sweet forgetful fruit of the zizy-
phus : —

"Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave
To each, but whoso did receive of them,
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave
Far, far away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores ; and if his fellow spake,
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave;
And deep-asleep he seem'd, yet all awake,
And music in his ears his beating heart did make.

There is sweet music here . . .

Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.

Here are cool mosses deep,

And thro' the moss the ivies creep,

And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,

And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep."

The faculty of sound -imitation appears to have contributed little
to the building up of language. According to the mimetic hypothesis,
primitive man, as yet mute, hearing different natural sounds, imitated
them in the names by which he designated the objects that produced
them, — just as a child calls a cow a moo, or the aboriginal Indian
named the striped squirrel chip-muk, — and, finding the plan feasible,
he elaborated his whole system of language on this principle ; that
is, onomatopoeia furnished attributive roots, from which were formed
names and special verbs. Metaphor then may have completed the
process by extending to objects of sight, touch, taste, and smell, the

302 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

descriptive words obtained through onomatopoeia. But inasmuch as
comparatively few things can be represented by sound imitations, and
imitative words like hiss, moan, squawk, giggle, are not those from
which great groups have been formed, most modern thinkers reject
the onomatopoetic theory of roots.

In the " Transactions of the Philological Society for 1867," T. H.
Key endeavors to show that terms for the most abstract ideas may be
supplied on the mimetic principle. He takes the sound root kar,
heard in scratching, in filing a saw, or in clearing the throat, and in-
geniously derives from it the Latin words carere (to card wool) and
carduus (a thistle) ; the Greek ^arasso (to scratch) ; character (origi-
nally, a mark made by scratching) ; the Greek grapho (&zrapho)
and the Latin scribo (s-.fozr-ibo) , I write or make characters ; scratch
itself (s-&zr-atch) ; grate (/for-ate) ; cark (to scratch) ; and carve.
It is doubtful whether another such case can be found. Sound words
are usually not prolific.

Alliteration, the repetition of the same letter at the
beginning of words, is an old device which has lost its
regular function, but is still resorted to for certain effects.
Ancient Teutonic poetry was distinguished by alliteration.
In this alliterative verse the initial letter of the first em-
phatic and accented word in a couplet, or of its essential
part, if compound, furnished a key to that of the second
and the third. Usage required that two accented syllables
in the first line and one in the second should thus begin
with the same letter ; as in the following literal rendering
of six lines from the " Beowulf : " —

" An unwinsome wood,
Water stood under it,
Ghastly with £ore ;
It was gr'iei for all Danes,
A .right of sorrow
For the .Scylding's friends."

This principle of construction not only tended to aid
the memory, but gave to early English poetry a dignity

ALLITERA TION. 303

and grace which could not be destroyed, even by a weak

recital.

In antitheses, alliteration often emphasizes the words on which
the beat of the contrast falls. This is noticeable in many Saxon say-
ings ; as, "All's not £old that glitters,'1 — " 7/iickand //zin," — " ^ick
and span.'"1 In Sanskrit verse, alliteration is painfully frequent. In
the Finnish epic " Kalevala," it runs on vowels as well as consonants.
Even the Greek ear approved refined alliteration, as abundantly shown
in the fragments of Sappho (/J/et1 ewoi well ;;/ete welissa — neither
honey nor bee for me). Modern poets, including Shakespeare, Milton,
Scott, Poe, Swinburne, and Tennyson, have availed themselves of the
device to secure harmony of sound and often a singular dignity and
grace ; as in this line from " Marmioh : " —

"Prince, prelate, potentate, and peer."

There is a majesty in Tennyson's description of Cleopatra as
"The Queen with swarthy cheeks, and bold black eyes, brow-bound
with burning gold."

Alliteration is not to be affected in Prose, except to give
point to what is epigrammatic or antithetical. If obtru-
sively or sensationally used, as in many American news-
papers, alliteration, like everything that is vulgarized,
simply offends cultivated taste.

QUESTIONS.

Name the figures 01 contrast. Define and illustrate antithesis.
Show how the order of the contrasted words may be reversed. What
besides verbal opposition is necessary to a perfect antithesis? Illus-
trate antithesis in the idea. How are the popularity and value of
antithesis indicated? What is antithetic parallelism? Characterize
the excessive use of antithesis. Explain oxymoron, or epigram.
What is the effect of paradox. How do you account for the effect of
climax? Illustrate the climax of intensity. What is anticlimax?
Epanorthosis ?

State the meaning of irony. To what does this figure owe its
force? Give examples of irony. How is interrogation a figure of

304 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

contrast? For what purposes may interrogation be employed? De-
fine onomatopoeia. What three things may words imitate in their
sounds? Explain by illustration. State your opinion of the part
played by the imitative faculty in the process of language building.
Explain " the mimetic hypothesis." Why does it not satisfactorily
account for roots? Are onomatopoetic roots prolific? What words
are said to be derived from the sound root kar ?

Define alliteration. Give the characteristics of alliterative verse.
What poets, ancient and modern, have employed the device effect-
ively ? Formulate a rule for the use of alliteration in prose.

EXERCISE.

Point out the figures that occur in the following extracts, stating
in each case reasons for your opinion : —

These rags, this grinding is not yet so base
As was my former servitude ignoble,

Unmanly, ignominious, infamous.

MILTON.

Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes,
Men would be angels, angels would be gods ;
Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell,

Aspiring to be angels, men rebel.

POPE.

It is a shame, Mr. President, that the noble bulldogs of the administra-
tion should be wasting their precious time in worrying the rats of the opposi-
tion— Rats, did I say? Mice! mice! — JOHN RANDOLPH.

When the million applaud you, ask what harm you have done ; when
they censure you, what good. — Far fowls have fair feathers. — Thy country
silent addresses thee thus. — Cruel kindness. — Like people, like priest {//as.
iv. 9). — Too much of nothing {Aristotle). — Youth is a garland of roses ; age
is a crown of thorns ( Talmuif). — I do like them both so much, for he is so
ladylike, and she is such a perfect gentleman {Sydney Smith}. — Go on;
time is worth nothing. — Listen, young men, to an old man to whom old men
were glad to listen when he was young {Attgttslus C&sar}. — Sow an act,
and reap a habit; sow a habit, and reap a character; sow a character, and reap
a destiny. — Science moves but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point
( Tennyson}. — Feast won, fast lost ( Timon}. — Seeing I saw not, hearing not

CRITICISM. 305

I heard {Princess}. — The shrill-edged shriek of a mother divides the shud-
dering night ( Tennyson}. — During the hurly-burly of the English Civil War,
which made the bee in every man's bonnet buzz to be let forth {Lowell).
— At his touch, crowns crumbled, beggars reigned, systems vanished ( Of
Napoleon"). — Sweet Love, thou art so bitter {Swinburne}. — He is like
Chrystie, the auctioneer, who says as much in praise of a ribbon as a Raphael
{Person, of Gibbon}. — Yet poison still is poison, though drunk in gold
{Massinger}.

"Dub dub a dub, bounce! " quoth the guns with a sulphurous huff-
shuff. — PEEI.E.

The best-laid schemes o' mice and men

Gang aft agley.

BURNS'S To a Mouse.

How hast thou charmed
The wildness of the waves and rocks to this?
That thus relenting they have given thee back
To earth, to light and life, to love and me.

Mourning Bride.

Fancy is a willful, imagination a spontaneous act ; fancy, a play as
with dolls which we choose to call men and women; imagination, a percep-
tion and affirming of a real relation between a thought and some natural fact.
Fancy amuses; imagination expands and exalts. Fancy is related to color,
imagination, to form. Fancy paints; imagination sculptures. — EMERSON.

Now look ye where she lies —
That beauteous flower, that innocent sweet rose —

Torn up by ruthless violence.

Brutus in Lucrece.

I chatter over stony ways

In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,

I babble on the pebbles.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow

To join the brimming river ;
For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

TENNYSON'S The Brook.

QUACK. RHETL— 20 .

306 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Full fathom five thy father lies —
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell :
Hark 1 now I hear them — ding-dong, bell.

The Tempest.

For there some noble lord

Shall stuff his shoulders with King Richard's bunch,
Or wrap himself in Hamlet's inky cloak,
And strut, and storm, and straddle, stamp, and stare,
To show the world how Garrick did not act.

COWPER'S Task.

A birch hangs delighted,

Dipping, dipping, dipping, its tremulous hair.

LOWELL.

You have done well and like a gentleman,
And like a prince : you have our thanks for all :
And you look well too in your woman's dress:
Well have you done and like a gentleman.

Sir,

Your falsehood and yourself are hateful to us :
I trample on your offers and on you :
Begone.

The Princess.

Two fit men: Dante, deep, fierce as the central fire of the world;
Shakespeare, wide, placid, far-seeing as the sun, the upper light of the
world. Italy produced the one world-voice : we English have the honor of
producing the other. — CARLYLE.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

As a study in figures of contrast, read Pope, and Macaulay with
" his endless fire of snapping antithesis ; " for irony and satire, Swift's
" Gulliver's Travels " and " Tale of a Tub ; " for onomatopoetic effects,
Milton's " L'Allegro" and " Comus," and Collins's " Ode to the Pas-
sions ; " for illustrations of figures in Hebrew, Assyrio-Babylonian,
Chinese, Egyptian, Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin writers, Quackenbos's
" History of Ancient Literature, Oriental and Classical." Consult
Farrar's " Chapters on Language;" Collins's " Figures of Tennyson."

LAWS OF FIGURE. 307

LESSON XXIX.

LAWS OF FIGURE AND THEIR VIOLATIONS.

As there is a natural congruity between dress and the character or rank of the
person who wears it, a violation of which congruity never fails to hurt ; the same
holds precisely as to the application of figures to sentiment. The excessive or
unseasonable employment of them is mere foppery in writing. It gives a boyish air
to composition, and, instead of raising a subject, diminishes its dignity. — DR.
BLAIR.

Hyperbole, personification, apostrophe, are all the children of passion. The
feeling of the speaker or audience must make them natural, else they are ridiculous.
— PROFESSOR BASCOM.

The Laws of Figure are the Laws of Beauty. — Com-
position is not dependent on figures for all, or even the
greater part, of its beauties and merits. Sublime and
pathetic passages have been cited, in which no assistance
is derived from this source — in which plain dress sets off
the thought to the best advantage. Young writers espe-
cially should ask themselves, not whether the figurative
expression itself is striking, but whether it conveys the
meaning more forcibly than a simpler phrase. Figures
are not to be the chief object in view. If a composition
is destitute of ideas, all the figures that can be employed
will fail to render it impressive. They may dazzle a vul-
gar eye, but can never please a judicious one. What
makes a style rich is its wealth of associations.

But when figures are suggested by the subject, and
spontaneously take form in the workshop of the imagina-
tion, they are still to be employed in conformity with the
principles of Adaptation, Economy, Order, and Unity.

308 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Moderation. — To no practice does the maxim, " Art
consists in the removal of surplusage," apply with greater
force than to the habitual use of rhetorical figures.
Though they be more than mere flowers or ornaments of
speech, the reader is not to be surfeited with them. A
discourse overloaded with imagery, in the extravagant
Oriental style, suggests a mind that delights in show
rather than worth.

Appropriateness. — The law of fitness adapts the fig-
ure to the subject and the occasion. The beautiful figure
rises naturally from the subject, and is always most effect-
ive when it is not perceived to be a figure. If deliber-
ately sought out, and fastened on where it seems to fit,
with the express design of embellishing, the effect will be
to enfeeble.

A figure good in itself may be ill suited to the environment.
Some rhetoricians have contended that persons under the .influence of
emotion or passion are not likely to express themselves in figures ; but
Longinus held, that the proper time for a metaphor is when " the pas-
sions are so swollen as to hurry on like a torrent." Even depressed
feeling, like grief, seeks outlet in rhetorical figures ; and Shakespeare
is true to principle in putting the following simile in the mouth of
the wronged Queen Katharine of Aragon : —

" I am the most unhappy woman living —
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom where no pity,
No friends, no hope, no kindred weep for mes
Almost no grave allow' d me. — Like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head, and perish."

Shakespeare did not make psychological mistakes. The passions
of humanity uttered themselves through his lips. Study further the
figures that form the exclamations of Macduff, when informed of the
massacre of his wife and children by Macbeth : —

VIOLATIONS OF LAWS OF FIGURE. 309

" He has no children. — All my pretty ones?
Did you say all? — O hell-kite ! — All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop? "

This is true to nature. The commonplace imagery of his daily
experience rose naturally before MacdufTs imagination, and became
framed into his speech. Of an entirely different nature is the stupid
indifference to environment displayed by a theological student in the
following simile : " As the diamonds in the hilt of the assassin's dag-
ger light up the passage for the blade, so the divine illuminations of
love, radiating from the spirit of Jehovah, brighten the pathway of the
soul on its onward march to glory."

Again, embellishing similes are not the natural language of a per-
son engaged in his usual occupations. A gardener would hardly give
directions to his servants in the figurative phrase below : —

Go, bind thou up yond dangling apricocks,
Which, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight :
Give some supportance to the bending twigs, —
Go thou, and, like an executioner,
Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth :
All must be even in our government.

Richard II.

Overstrained Figures. — A figure carried out too far
into detail wearies the reader by violating the law of econ-
omy. Correct taste will discover a point beyond which
the weaving of metaphor on metaphor will prove a fruit-
less tax of attention, as in the following from Tamer-
lane's letter to Bajazet : —

" Where is the monarch who dares resist us? Whe^e is the potentate
who doth not glory in being numbered among our attendants ? As for thee,
descended from a Turcoman sailor, since the vessel of thy unbounded am-
bition hath been wrecked in the gulf of thy self-love, it would be proper
that thou shouldst take in the sails of thy temerity, and cast the anchor of

$IO FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

repentance in the port of sincerity and justice, which is the port of safety ;
lest the tempest of our vengeance make thee perish in the sea of the punish-
ment thou deservest."

Unmeaning Figures. — To compare things that are of
the same kind, or that closely resemble each other, is
pointless, and ineffective either to instruct or to please.
Milton neither informs nor entertains by comparing Eve's
bower to the arbor of Pomona, or Eve herself to a wood-
nymph. The following description of the fallen angels
searching for mines of gold is open to the double objec-
tion : —

"A numerous brigade hastened : as when bands
Of pioneers, with spade and pick-ax armed,
Forerun the royal camp to trench a field,
Or cast a rampart."

Far-fetched Figures are figures founded on faint resem
blance. Their effect is to distract and perplex the mind.
Shakespeare, ever bold in his interpretation of the canon
of the figure of resemblance, frequently approximates het-
erogeneous ideas : —

Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin lac V with his golden blood.

Macbeth-

But, for their spirits and souls,
This word rebellion, it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond.

Henry IV.

So Thomson wrote, "A sober calm fleeces unbounded
ether;" Ford, "Let my skin be pinched full of eyelet
holes by the bodkin of derision ; " and St. Bernard de-
scribed the tears of penitence as "the wine of angels."

VIOLA TIONS OF LA WS OF FIGURE. 3 1 1

Trite and Vulgar Figures offend against dignity. Dia-
mond eyes, raven tresses, ruby lips, alabaster necks, roses in
cheeks, enameled meads, and meandering streams, as origi-
nally employed, were beautiful ; but frequent use has
divested them of all their charms, and now they are the
distinguishing marks of empty imitators.

An old figure may be saved from triteness by a skillful
poetic touch. Tennyson, in "The Princess," describes
Lilia as "a rosebud set with little willful thorns," thus
by the addition of an epithet giving fresh life to the com-
parison of a girl to a bud. So Psyche's child " a double
April old," is a pleasing departure from the conventional
two summers.

The commonplace and vulgar find expression in metaphor, giving
us a host of inelegant figures. The very slums contribute their quota,
and the jargon of thieves is a tissue of base transfers. Writers of
repute not unfrequently sacrifice the refined to the forcible. Thus
Marlowe : —

" These dignities,

Like poison, make men swell ; this ratsbane honor,
Oh I 'tis so sweet ! they'll lick it till they burst."

Obscure Figures. — Nothing is gained by comparison to
things respecting which little is known. Local allusions,
obscure traditions, facts familiar only to those scientifi-
cally or technically educated, do not form a proper basis
of resemblance. The point of the following simile is lost
on the average reader : " Humor, when we consider the
contrariety of its effects, contempt and laughter, to that
sympathy and love often produced by the pathetic, may,
in respect of these, be aptly compared to a concave mir-
ror, when the object is placed beyond the focus ; in which
case it appears by reflection both diminished and inverted,

312 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

circumstances which happily adumbrate the contemptible
and the ridiculous." " He had as numerous an offspring
as a Greek verb," is intelligible only to classical students.
Degrading or Belittling Figures. — Comparison to the
low or trivial is a capital offense, as it degrades the
principal subject. Objects are always to be compared to
others that possess in a greater degree than themselves
the qualities in which the resemblance lies. The follow-
ing simile from the " Iliad " is obviously faulty : —

Meanwhile the troops beneath Patroclus' care

Invade the Trojans, and commence the war.

As wasps, provoked by children in their play,

Pour from their mansions by the broad highway,

In swarms the guiltless traveler engage,

Whet all their stings, and call forth all their rage:

All rise in arms, and with a general cry

Assert their waxen domes, and buzzing progeny:

Thus from the tents the fervent legion swarms,

So loud their clamors, and so keen their arms.

POPE'S Homer.

In like manner, Cowper degrades in these lines : —

" The villas with which London stands begirt,
Like a swarth Indian with his belt of beads."

Bombastic Figures. — An error opposite to the last is
that of comparing trivial things to others far exceeding
them in beauty or importance. Here the simile is likely
to degenerate into burlesque, nothing being more absurd
than to force a resemblance to what is vastly superior.
The procedure is exemplified in these lines from the
" Rape of the Lock," where the burlesque is inten-
tional : —

" Clubs, diamonds, hearts, in wild disorder seen,
With throngs promiscuous strew the level green.

VIOLA TIONS OF LA WS OF FIGURE. 3 1 3

Thus when dispersed a routed army runs,

Of Asia's troops, and Afric's sable sons.

The pierced battalions, disunited, fall

In heaps on heaps; one fate o'erwhelms them all."

Mixed Metaphor. — The commonest error in the use of
metaphor is the blending of figurative with plain lan-
guage, or the confusing mixture in one combination of
two or more different figures. In each fault there is in-
congruity, which violates the principle of adaptation.

In the sentence, — " My life is a wreck, I drift before the chilling
winds of adversity; friends, home, wealth, Tve lost them all," — the
imaginative vision fades, and the writer sinks to the level of the literal.
A wreck may drift before winds, but cannot have friends, home, and
wealth to lose. So in the following, plain statement is combined with
figure: " Boyle was the father of chemistry, and brother to the Earl
of Cork."

When a number of incongruous metaphors are thrown
together in the expression of a single idea, obscurity and
confusion are the inevitable result ; as in this extract from
" The Tempest," —

" Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,
Fall fellowly drops. — The charm dissolves apace ;
And as the morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason."

The author of the following requires us to imagine, first, that hair
is made of glass, and secondly, that glass hair can be used as a
whip : —

" Comets importing change of times and states,
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars."

314 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Professor Scherr, in one of his criticisms, writes : " Out of the
dark regions of philosophical problems, the poet suddenly lets swarms
of songs dive up, carrying far-flashing pearls of thought in their
beaks."

In cases where metaphors are massed together with-
out confusion, where there is no overlapping of images,
as in dissolving views, but a series of distinct pictures,
the rhetorical effect is marked, particularly if the figures
form a climax. Such clear combination is illustrated in
the following from " Macbeth : "

" Methought I heard a voice cry, ' Sleep no more !
Macbeth does murder sleep,' — the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravel'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast."

Catachre'sis, or beautiful mixed metaphor, applies
words in senses that are, literally, against usage, to
heighten effect. It involves a genuine abuse of meta-
phor, but an abuse that is attended with a peculiar
charm. As in the case of enallage, beauty here results
from a pleasing violation of law. Catachresis is illus-
trated in Dante's " Mute of all light ; " in Madame de
StaeTs " Architecture is frozen music ; " in Young's
" Her voice is but the shadow of a sound ; " in Keats's
" Dew-dropping melody ; " in " Romola," " As the chorus
swelled till the air seemed made of sound, little flames,
vibrating as if the sound Jiad caugJit fire, burst out be-
tween the turrets of the palace ; " and in " Cymbeline:"

" Thither write my queen,

And with mine eyes /'// drink the words you send
Though ink be made of gall."

VIOLATIONS OF LAWS OF FIGURE. 315

The student must remember that the step is an easy one from
catachresis to nonsense; thus, "Earth is but the frozen echo of the
silent voice of God." The laws of rhetoric are not Medo-Persian ;
but he who ventures to disregard them must possess a sound head
and a cultured taste.

QUESTIONS.

How far is composition dependent on figures for its effects?
Against what are young writers especially cautioned ? Can ornament
compensate for the lack of thought ? What are the laws of figures ?
State the requirements of the law of economy. What does extrava-
gance in the use of imagery indicate? How does the law of fitness
apply to the choice of figures ? Show that a good figure may have a
bad environment. Are figures out of place during the prevalence of
emotion or passion ? State the theory of Longinus, and instance the
practice of Shakespeare. Is Shakespeare infallible in psychological
questions ? Under ordinary circumstances, is he careful of his envi-
ronment ?

What is meant by overstrained figures ? Explain their effect on
the reader. Define unmeaning figures, and show why they are point-
less. On what are far-fetched figures founded ? How do they affect
the mind ? Illustrate trite figures. Why are they objectionable ?
How may an old figure be saved from the effect of triteness ? May
the commonplace and vulgar find expression in metaphor ? Criticise
the force of unrefined figures. Define and illustrate obscure figures ;
degrading figures ; bombastic figures.

Explain two forms of mixed metaphor. From what does the mix-
ture of metaphor and plain language proceed ? What inevitably
results from the blending of incongruous figures ? State the rhetorical
effect of the massing of metaphors without confusion. What is cata-
chresis ? Illustrate this abuse of metaphor. Show that the step is an
easy one from catachresis to nonsense. To what extent are the laws
of rhetoric unalterable ?

EXERCISE.

Criticise the following extracts.

Point out the figures that occur, stating which are faulty, and why.
Discuss the rhetorical force of each figure or combination, explaining
whether the propriety of the respective forms is well sustained, and

316 FIGURATIVE SP££Ctf.

noting the impression produced on the mind. Name the elements of
sublimity, picturesqueness, pathos, or general beauty, that you may
find in any of the selections, having in view the subjects and the man-
ner of expression. Distinguish between what is imaginative and what
is fanciful. Show the value of the aesthetic sense factors in every
synthesis.

When Spring bursts forth in blossoms thro* the vale,
And her wild music triumphs on the gale,
Oft with my book I muse from stile to stile;
Oft in my porch the listless noon beguile,
Framing loose numbers, till declining day
Thro' the green trellis shoots a crimson ray ;
Till the west wind leads on the twilight hoUrs,
And shakes the fragrant bells of closing flowers.

ROGERS.

There through the prison of unbounded wilds,
Wide roams the Russian exile. Naught around
Strikes his sad eye but deserts lost in snow,
And heavy loaded groves, and solid floods,
That stretch athwart the solitary vast
Their icy horrors to the frozen main ;
And cheerless towns far distant, never bless'd,
Save when its annual course the caravan
Bends to the golden coast of rich Cathay,
With news of human kind.

THOMSON'S Winter.

Then seek the bank where flowering elders crowd,
Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale
Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang
The dewy head, where purple violets lurk,
With all the lowly children of the shade.

THOMSON'S Spring.

A shower has just parenthesized the road in front of us. — May the word
which has been preached be like a nail driven in a sure place, sending 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 banners !
— He is swamped in the meshes of his argument. — Our prayers and God's
mercy are like two buckets in a well ; while one ascends, the other descends.

VIOLATIONS OF LAWS OF FIGURE.

— The germ, the dawn, of a new vein in literature, lies there. — He flung
his powerful frame into the saddle and his great soul into the cause. — Every
man has in himself a continent of undiscovered character ; happy is he who
acts the Columbus to his own soul. — This was what Mr. John Bright took
from his constant reading of Milton ; he extracted the pure honey of Eng-
lish, and left the classic flowers behind. — Tears speak louder than words.

— Dumb music. — The ice of credit thinly covers the sea of debt, and a
thaw of adversity causes him who travels^ thereon to sink. — The strong
pillar of our church has fled. — With her lily hand, Julia looped back the
raven tresses from her alabaster brow. — Truth is stranger than fiction.

'Tis Liberty alone that gives the flower
Of fleeting life its luster and perfume;
And we are weeds without it.

COWPER'S Task.

See how the river with its lucid streams

Like a pearl necklace round the mountain gleams.

KALIDASA.

Ah ! quanta laboras in Charybdi,
Digne puer meliore flamma !

HORACE.

No rock so hard but that a little wave
May beat admission in a thousand years.

TENNYSON.

Glowing like the cheeks of Freya,
Peeps the rose from out its bud.

FRITHJOF'S Saga.

O what a noble mind is here o'erthrown !
The expectancy and rose of the fair state,
The observed of all observers, quite, quite down !
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
1 That suck'd the honey of his music vows.

Ophelia.

This temper of soul keeps our understanding tight about us. — There is
a time when factions, by the vehemence of their fermentation, stun and disa-
ble one another. — Where their sincerity as to fact is doubtful, we strike
out truth by a confrontation of different accounts ; as we strike out sparks of
fire by the collision of flint and steel. — Such the pleased ear will drink with

3l8 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

silent joy. — The last example is as coherent as a string of sausages {Dr.
Hodgson}. — Ideas rejected peremptorily at the time often rankle, and bear
fruit by and by ( Charles Reade}. — Kindred kill kinsmen, kinsmen kindred

kill.

Here is a letter, lady;

The paper as the body of my friend,
And every word in it a gaping wound,
Issuing lifeblood.

Merchant of Venice.

As glorious

As is a winged messenger of heaven,
Unto the white upturned wond'ring eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy pacing clouds,
And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Romeo and Juliet.

Hast thou not heard

That haughty Spain's pope-consecrated fleet
Advances to our shores, and England's fate
Like a clipp'd guinea trembles in the scale ?

SHERIDAN'.

And the red anemones, as they wave up and down, seem to be banners
of rubies fluttering from lances of chrysolite (Mehren 's Rhetorik der Araber}.

— Dark-eyed Sleep, child of the night (Sappho}. — In this world, a man
must be either anvil or hammer (Hyperion}. — This fellow picks up wit as
pigeons pease (Love's Labor's Lost}. — The yellow moonlight sleeps on all
the hills (Seattle}. — The willow bushes looked as if they were angling with
tasseled floats of gold and silver (Lorna Doone}. — It is not a little curious
to see how the grasshopper intelligence of Voltaire skips about the prime
requisites of the epic (D. A. Wasson}. — Our Lord God doth like a printer,
who setteth the letters backwards ; we see and feel well his setting, but we
shall see the print yonder in the life to come (Luther'' s Table Talk}. —
Frosty answer ( The White Devil}. — Giddy altitude (De Quincey}. — Little-
footed China. Doubtful curls. Melissa tinged with wan. We stumbled on
a stationary voice. A plot, a plot, a plot, to ruin all (Princess}. — Golden-
tinctured wings (Nala}. — They eat up the sin of my people (Has. iv. 8). —
Every hour comes with some little fagot of God's will fastened upon its back
(F. W. Faber}. — The morals of the rulers are the rulers of the morals
(Arabic Poet}. — Mellow noise. Fog-cowled mountains (Lorna Doonc}.

— The buyer of a horse may find himself saddled with a worthless animal

VIOLATIONS OF LAWS OF FIGURE. 319

( Corn/till Magazine}. — Dead to every claim of natural affection, and blind
to your own interest, you burst through all the restraints of religion and
morality, and have for many years been feathering your nest with your mas-
ter's bottles {Lord Kenyan, in sentencing a butler convicted of stealing his
master's wine}. — If you must read, read well. Read like Toller of Ketter-
ing ; he had a tear in his voice {Lei/child).

To dive like wild fowl for salvation,
And fish to catch regeneration.

Hudibras.

The sword of anguish cleft his broken heart,
As the wild fig tree, bursting through, will part
The palace pavement.

Raghuvama.

When in midday the sickening east wind
Shifts sudden to the south, the small warm rain
Melts out the frozen incense from all flowers.

KEATS.

The sbre spot on the arm of the market, which imparted its financial
vaccine to the whole list, was Louisville & Nashville {New -York Herald).
— And Fame, on tiptoe, fain would blow her horn ( Tannakitt), — Litera-
ture is attar of roses, one distilled drop from a million of blossoms {Hig-

ginson). — Mr. A is not a practical railroad man, and, floating into

prominence on a wave of general prosperity, was left to struggle by its reces-
sion in waters too deep for him {New - York Times). — All the people saw the
thunderings, and the lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet {Exod. xx.
18). — Even the lamb, when infected by theological fanaticism, secretes a
virus in his teeth, and his bite is as deadly as a rattlesnake's {Fronde). — And
now his silence drinks up their applause ( Troilus).- — His key is so low that
his high lights are never offensive {Lowell). — I am told that several pick-
pockets are present. Let them remember that the eye of God is on them, and
that there are a number of policemen in the house {Wesley). — The com-
fortable-looking little prima donna then gathered herself together, and let
loose the cyclone of her genius and accomplishments {Chicago Paper). —
Poverty oozed in with gentle swiftness, and lay about him like a dull cloak for
the rest of his life {Morley). — Going to law is losing a cow for the sake
of a cat ( Chinese Proverb). — Colonel McClure's sensationalism has fallen flat
as a pancake upon the public ear {Bellefonte Watchman). — In style it was
a minie bullet ; everybody who heard it was struck by it {Austin Phelps).

320 FIGURATIVE SPEECH.

Homeward serenely she walked, with God's benediction upon her;
When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.

Evangeline.

Yet not for those,

Nor what the potent victor in his rage
Can else inflict, do I repent or change,
Though chang'd in outward luster, that fix'd mind,
And high disdain from sense of injur'd merit,
That with the Mightiest rais'd me to contend,
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of spirits arm'd,
. That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,

His utmost power with adverse power oppos'd
In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven,
And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?
All is not lost ; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield,
And what is else, not to be overcome ;
That glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace
With suppliant knee, and deify his power,
Who from the terror of this arm so late
Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed,
That were an ignominy and shame beneath
This downfall ; since, by fate, the strength of Gods
And this empyreal substance cannot fail ;
Since, through experience of this great event,
In arms not worse, in foresight much advanc'd,
We may with more successful hope resolve
To wage, by force or guile, eternal war,
Irreconcileable to our grand foe,
Who now triumphs, and, in th' excess of joy
Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of Heaven.

Satan to Beelzebub {Paradise Lost}.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Lord's " Characteristics and Laws of Figurative Language,"
Kames's " Elements of Criticism," Longinus on the Sublime.

PART V.

FUNCTIONS AND TECHNIC OF STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

LESSON XXX.

THE LETTER.

I should recommend anyone who wants to learn the art of composing English
to write simply and unaffectedly, and to take all the pains he can even -with a com-
mon letter, — PROFESSOR JOWETT.

From the time when I was a schoolboy, my mother's letters impressed me very
forcibly, and I used even then to try to imitate her style. In this you will see that
I had a great advantage over most lads. In all cases, however, I should say, to
boys and young men, It is worth while to take pains about the home letters. Most
boys have no other opportunity for putting their awn impressions upon paper. —
F. MARION CRAWFORD.

The Separate Forms of Prose Expression. — Lanier
pointedly remarked, that there is no book extant in any
language which gives a conspectus of all the well-marked,
widely varying, literary prose forms which have differen-
tiated themselves in the course of time, — the novel, the
sermon, the newspaper leader, the scientific essay, the
popular magazine article, the semi-scientific lecture, etc.,
each of which has its own limitations and fitnesses, quite
as well defined as the sonnet form, the ballad form, the
drama form, and the like, in verse. Part V. of the pres-
ent volume is devoted to a discussion of the principles
governing the construction of these several prose forms,
— the letter, the essay, the history and the biography, the
novel, and the sermon.

QUACK. RHET. — 21 21

322 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

A Letter is a written message or communication from
one person to another. Letter writing, or correspondence,
is one of the most important branches of composition, as it
enters so largely into the daily business of life. Few
aspire to be novelists, essayists, or historians ; but every
one, in this age, is under the necessity of conveying his
opinions or his feelings through the medium of the letter.
To do this in a refined and masterly manner is an accom-
plishment expected of every cultured person.

General Essentials and Cautions. — Ease, simplicity,
suggestion of having been unstudied, and a cordial sin-
cerity, characterize every good letter. Mechanically, legi-
bility is of first importance. A scrawl is an insult to the
receiver of the letter ; while a cramped, formless hand-
writing obscures the meaning intended to be conveyed.
When affected, illegibility is the most foolish of vices.
In many senses it does not pay

"To hold it, as your statists do,
A baseness to write fair."

Flourishes are vulgar. Underlining would be unnecessary were
every sentence constructed in accordance with the rules of energy.
Interlineations, blots and erasures, cross-lining, and abbreviations 1 of
common words, are not respectful ; they favor the impression that the
writer of the letter does not consider the person addressed of sufficient
importance to warrant the exercise of common politeness.

1 The abbreviation inst. for instant (in the present month) is permissi-
ble. Many also use prox. for proximo (in the next month), and ult. for
ultimo (in the last month) ; as, " the 6th ult." Dates, together with desig-
nations by number, are written in Arabic figures. Ordinary numbers and
quantities are expressed in words. The number of a house is indicated in
figures ; the number of a street is, in refined letters and notes, written out in
full; as, No. 451 East Twenty-seventh Street.

THE LETTER. 323

When necessary words are omitted, or opportunity for improve-
ment in wording becomes obvious, no course is left to the correspond-
ent except to rewrite. Lathrop the novelist relates that it was the
practice of his mother to make him write the simplest letter as well as
it was possible for him to do it within his powers and with the aid of
her criticism. She would oblige him to rewrite a single letter a dozen
times, until its forms and expression had been made simple, clear,
graceful, serviceable, and specially fitted to the particular purpose for
which it was intended. " My mother," he says, " taught me more in
this way than all the teachers, lecturers, and manuals, I ever encoun-
tered." Advance toward ease and correctness of expression must cer-
tainly be more rapid in the case of students who may be induced to
regard the writing of every letter as an opportunity for applying their
rhetorical knowledge.

Misspelling, false syntax, and indifference to punctuation, indicate
unpardonable carelessness. Finally, a polite letter is now written on
unruled paper (lines suggest the untrained correspondent), and always
in black ink. It is unsafe, unbusinesslike, and impolite, to write a
letter in lead pencil. Only snobs, children, and rustics, affect colored
inks. — All letters, except such as are insulting, require prompt answer.

Mechanical Plan. — There is a plan or method in
accordance with which every polite letter is constructed.
All persons of taste follow this plan ; and no brilliancy of
thought in the letter itself, no individuality of style, nor
elegance of handwriting, will compensate for disregard of
the law of order as it applies to the letter.

The diagram on the following page illustrates the
ordinary letter plan. It is considered more polite to
place the inside address below and to the left of the
signature, rather than at the beginning of the letter,
between the date and the salutation. In all
and official correspondence, however, the insic
is usually placed at the beginning.

The Date, or Heading, which should
tinctly stated, includes the address of the wf

324

STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

Salutation

the month, day of the month, and the year, of writing.

American usage approves this order; e.g., May 20, 1895,

instead of 2Oth May, 1895.

The Salutation is the greeting of respect with which

a well-ordered letter begins ; as, Sir, Dear Madam, My

Dear Doctor. Dear
Sir (plural, Gentle-
men or Dear Sirs) is
the usual salutation
in this country. Sir
is more formal, less
personal, and is large-
ly reserved for offi-
cial correspondence.

The salutation
should stand to the
left, on a line below
the date ; each adjec-
tive or noun in it is
capitalized, and a co-
lon should follow it

Date — place in full

Day of month and year

BODY

OF
LETTER

Complimentary close

Signature

Inside address

when it stands alone.

In case, however, the inside address precedes, it is cus-
tomary to place after the latter a colon, followed by a
dash, and a comma after the salutation ; as,

The Reverend A. P. Westlake, D.D.,

Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church : —
DEAR SIR,

The President of the United States is properly addressed in the
salutation of a letter as " Mr. President ; " the governor of a state, as
" Your Excellency," or plain " Sir ; " the mayor of a city, as " Sir," or
" Your Honor; " an archbishop, as " Most Reverend and Respected

THE LETTER. 325

(or Dear) Sir;" a bishop, as " Right Reverend (and Dear) Sir; "a
Protestant archdeacon, in common with all clergymen below the rank
of bishop, and with Jewish rabbis, as " Reverend Sir," or "Reverend
and Dear Sir;" a Catholic archdeacon, as " Venerable Sir." Women
at the head of religious orders or houses are saluted as " Madam," and
in the plural as " Respected Ladies."

In the case of a firm composed of men and women, the grammat-
ical rule of gender gives preference in the salutation to " Gentlemen."
This is unsatisfactory and essentially incorrect, but there is no alter-
native. The Quakers surmount the difficulty by using as a salutation,
" Esteemed Friends." Should a firm be composed of one woman and
one man, usage dispenses with the salutation, and begins the letter
directly with the address, employing " Messrs." as a pre-title*; thus,
" Messrs. Mary Pond & Co." The firm as a firm is regarded as sex-
less. 'To salute either as " Ladies " or " Gentlemen" would be mani-
festly absurd.

The Body of the Letter should begin on the line below
the salutation. If the matter is sufficiently voluminous to
cover the first page and a part or the whole of the second,
it is allowable to write on pages one and three. But if
more than two pages are to be occupied, the order should
be one, two, three, four, and not one, three, two, four, — a
confusing and disorderly arrangement.

The Complimentary Close is the formal leave taking,
and varies according to the relations existing between the
persons in correspondence and the nature of the salutation.
FaitJifully, Cordially, Sincerely, or Truly yours, may close
any but an official letter. Respectfully and Very respect-
fully imply formality, and would be out of harmony with a
familiar salutation like " Dear John."

A letter addressed to the Preside'nt of the United States should
close with " Most respectfully your obedient servant," or " I have
the honor to subscribe myself most respectfully," etc. ; a letter to a
senator, a governor, or a mayor, with " I have the honor to be (or

326 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

remain) your obedient servant;" a letter to a bishop, with " I have
the honor to be, Most Reverend Sir (archbishop}, Right Reverend Sir
(bishop), your obedient servant."

The Signature must be present on the line below the
complimentary close, must be legible, and must be the
usual name of the person affixing it. Thousands of letters
without signatures annually find their way into the Dead
Letter Office, many of them containing money. Certain
persons are affected in their signatures ; she who is uni-
versally known as Mary L. Seabury becomes on paper M.
Louise Seabury. Moreover, the receiver of a letter is
under obligation to accept the writer's signature as his
name. If a correspondent signs himself as Harry Town-
send Nixon or Fred Mather, we are not warranted in ad-
dressing him as Henry in the one case or as Frederick in
the other. Women corresponding with strangers should
always indicate their sex, as well as whether married or
single, by prefixing to their names Miss or Mrs. inclosed
in parentheses.

The Inside Address includes the name of the person
written to, with pre-title and post-title, and, as taste
directs, the place of residence. Pre-titles, with the excep-
tion of Mr., Dr., Rev., and Hon., are to be written out in
full ; the last three preferably follow this rule. The abbre-
viations Col., Gen., Capt., Pres., etc., are impolite. Cler-
gymen should be addressed as " The Reverend ; " a Jewish
rabbi, as " The Reverend Rabbi ; " women who are en-
titled to the distinction, as " The Reverend Mother Supe-
rior," " The Right Reverend Lady Abbess."

Gentlemen without professional titles are properly
addressed as " Mr." (abbreviation of the Latin magister,
meaning master) ; but " Esq." after the name is preferred

THE LETTER.

by some to " Mr." before it, although the title Esquire
is un-American and in this country meaningless. Mr.
occurs on the title-page of the First Folio, 1623, "Mr.
William Shakespeare ; " and the poet's father, on becoming
high bailiff of Stratford in 1568, was addressed as "Mr.
John Shakysper." The proper address for boys is " Mas-
ter." The plural of Mr. or Master is Messrs. (Messieurs),
the Messrs. Smith.

The feminine of Mr. or Master is Miss for an unmar-
ried woman, Mrs. for a married woman (both abbrevia-
tions of Mistress, still used in England and Scotland as a
pre-title). The plural of Miss Jones is the Misses Jones;
the plural of Mrs. Jones is the Mrs. Jones. Neither Miss
nor Mrs. can be used alone in the salutation like the
vocative Sir; in each case we must write "Madam" or
" Dear Madam " (preferable to Madame, which, except in
the case of French ladies, is an affectation).

A widow is properly addressed by her late husband's
initials or Christian name ; as, Mrs. John P. Wells. She
should adopt the same form on her visiting cards ; but for
all business purposes, as in signing a check or receipt,
custom requires her to use her own name.

Forms like the following are relinquished by all re-
fined persons to the exclusive use of the snobbish, —
Mrs. General Banner, Mrs. Senator Shoddy, Mrs. Doctor
Jones, the Reverend Mrs. Ostentation.

Post-titles must not repeat pre-titles. A college professor may
be a doctor of laws, and in such case is properly addressed as " Pro-
fessor - , LL.D. ;" but it is overdoing matters to write, "The
Reverend Doctor J. T. Westlake, LL.D., although the pre-title Doctor
may imply D.D., an entirely different title from LL.D. The ten-
dency is to be sparing in the use of post-titles, except in catalogues.

328 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

The following letter illustrates the form given on
p. 324, filled out in accordance with polite usage: —

LANCASTER, NEW HAMPSHIRE,

May 20, 1895.
GENTLEMEN :

Your favor of the I7th instant is at hand. We regret our inability
to furnish you with the information you request. The persons referred
to moved from this town to the State of Ohio about three years ago,
and have not since been heard from.

Respectfully yours,

A. H. WHITNEY.
MESSRS. W. F. OTIS & Co.

Troy, New York.

Postscripts are allowable in letters of friendship, ex-
cusable in business letters, impertinent in official letters.
A postscript may represent the height of rhetorical tact.
Cases arise in which a long letter may be written on
irrelevant matters in order to find opportunity, through
the medium of a clever postscript, to mention as an after-
thought the really important point, which could not be
brought directly to the attention of the person addressed.
Postscripts are signed only with initials.

The Superscription or Outside Address repeats the inside
address, and includes the number of the street or avenue,
the name of the post office, of the county (where neces-
sary), and of the State. "No. 343, Madison Avenue," is
English usage ; the comma is usually omitted in America.
An envelope addressed to the President of the United
States should read, "To the President, Executive Man-
sion, Washington, D.C. ; " to the governor of a state,
"To His Excellency, the Governor of ."

Folding and Sealing. — Note sheets folded once so as
to form a square, and square envelopes, are everywhere
polite. The folded sheet should be placed in the envel-

THE LETTER. 329

ope with the open edge outward. If a long envelope is
used, the sheet must be folded twice so as to fit the
envelope. When full-sized letter paper is employed, turn
up the bottom of the sheet toward the top, and crease the
fold when the reduced length of the sheet is such as to fit
the length of the envelope selected. Then fold twice in
the opposite direction, having in view the width of the
envelope. If commercial sizes are preferred, and a corre-
spondingly long envelope is required, fold the letter twice,
beginning at the bottom.

Persons of taste avoid tinted, scalloped, and scented paper, fan-
cifully shaped envelopes, and many-colored monograms. Most envel-
opes are gummed to facilitate sealing ; the use of sealing wax, however,
has again become fashionable.

Post Cards imply haste, and hence sacrifice of all for-
mality and courtesy. Those who use them, owing to the
limited space at command, omit the salutation and the
complimentary close. The date and the signature are of
course indispensable. Only the ignorant and vulgar con-
fide secrets, and write matters of personal interest, on
post cards ; only the impertinent read post cards intrusted
to them for delivery.

The Form of the Letter has been used for essays,
novels, histories, etc. ; that is, these compositions have
been divided into parts, each of which commences with
tan address to some friend of the author, or imaginary
personage, as if it had passed as an actual communica-
tion. Thus we have Russell's " History of Modern
Europe," narrated in numerous letters to his son ; Schil-
ler's "./Esthetical Letters;" Bishop Warburton's "Letters
from a Prelate to One of his Friends ; " Montesquieu's
" Persian Letters," designed to convey political instruc-

33O STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

tion ; Hamerton's " The Intellectual Life," a series of
letter essays ; Lanman's " Letters from a Landscape
Painter," containing delightful descriptions of Horicon,
Moosehead, and the Catskills ; Headley's " The Adiron-
dack," the story of the woods as he found them in 1846
to 1848, charmingly told in letters to a friend (see p. 343).

The practice of conveying information in letters began early in
English history. The so-called Paston Letters are a collection written
during the Wars of the Roses, and are invaluable for the light they
throw on the national and social conditions of the time. James
Howell, who lived under Charles I. and the Protectorate, embodied in
the form of epistles accounts of his travels on the Continent, show-
ing, according to his publisher, that " familiar letters are capable of
the highest speculations and solidest kind of knowledge." As the
English developed into a literary people, letters served as a vehicle
for the expression of feelings and opinions, until, in the time of Pope,
epistolary correspondence became an elegant art. The letters of
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu are still read as models of style in this
department. An illustration is appended : —

TO THE COUNTESS OF BUTE.
[ Proposing a learned education for her daughter.]

DEAR CHILD:

You have given me a great deal of satisfaction by your account of your
eldest daughter. I am particularly pleased to hear she is a good arithmeti-
cian ; it is the best proof of understanding. The knowledge of numbers
is one of the chief distinctions between us and the brutes. If there is any-
thing in blood, you may reasonably expect your children should be endowed
with an uncommon share of good sense. Mr. Wortley's family and mine
have produced some of the greatest men that have been born in England:
I mean Admiral Sandwich, and my grandfather, who was distinguished by
the name of Wise William [Pierrepont]. I have heard Lord Bute's father
mentioned as an extraordinary genius, though he had not many opportunities
of showing it ; and his uncle, the present Duke of Argyll, has one of the best
heads I ever knew. I will therefore speak to you as supposing Lady Mary
not only capable, but desirous, of learning: in that case by all means let her
be indulged in it. You will tell me I did not make it a part of your educa-
tion ; your prospect was very different from hers. As you had no defect
either in mind or person to hinder, and much in your circumstances to attract,

THE LETTER. 331

the highest offers, it seemed your business to learn how to live in the world,
as it is hers to know how to be easy out of it. It is the common error of
builders and parents to follow some plan they think beautiful (and perhaps it
is so), without considering that nothing is beautiful that is displaced. Hence
we see so many edifices raised that the raisers can never inhabit, being too
large for their fortunes. Vistas are laid open over barren heaths, and apart-
ments contrived for a coolness very agreeable in Italy, but killing in the north
of Britain. Thus every woman endeavors to breed her daughter a fine lady,
qualifying her for a station in which she will never appear, and at the same
time incapacitating her for that retirement to which she is destined. Learn-
ing, if she has a real taste for it, will not only make her contented, but happy
in it. No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting.
She will not want new fashions, nor regret the loss of expensive diversions, or
variety of company, if she can be amused with an author in her closet. To
render this amusement extensive, she should be permitted to learn the lan-
guages. I have heard it lamented that boys lose so many years in mere
learning of words ; this is no objection to a girl, whose time is not so
precious. She cannot advance herself in any profession, and has therefore
more hours to spare ; and, as you say her memory is good, she will be very
agreeably employed this way. There are two cautions to be given on this
subject: first, not to think herself learned when she can read Latin, or even
Greek. Languages are more properly to be called vehicles of learning than
learning itself, as may be observed in many schoolmasters, who, though per-
haps critics in grammar, are the most ignorant fellows upon earth. True
knowledge consists in knowing things, not words. I would wish her no
further a linguist than to enable her to read books in their originals, that are
often corrupted, and always injured, by translations. Two hours' application
every morning will bring this about much sooner than you can imagine, and
she will have leisure enough besides to run over the English poetry, which is
a more important part of a woman's education than it is generally supposed.
Many a young damsel has been ruined by a fine copy of verses, which she
would have laughed at if she had known it had been stolen from Mr. Waller.
I remember, when I was a girl, I saved one of my companions from destruc-
tion, who communicated to me an epistle she was quite charmed with. As
she had a natural good taste, she observed the lines were not so smooth as
Prior's or Pope's, but had more thought and spirit than any of theirs. She
was wonderfully delighted with such a demonstration of her lover's sense and
passion, and not a little pleased with her own charms, that had force enough
to inspire such elegances. In the midst of this triumph, I showed her that
they were taken from Randolph's poems, and the unfortunate transcriber was
dismissed with the scorn he deserved. To say truth, the poor plagiary was

332 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

very unlucky to fall into my hands ; that author, being no longer in fashion,
would have escaped anyone of less universal reading than myself. You
should encourage your daughter to talk over with you what she reads ; and,
as you are very capable of distinguishing, take care she does not mistake pert
folly for wit and humor, or rhyme for poetry, which are the common errors
of young people, and have a train of ill consequences. The second caution to
be given her (and which is most absolutely necessary) is to conceal whatever
learning she attains with as much solicitude as she would hide crookedness
or lameness. The parade of it can only serve to draw on her the envy, and
consequently the most inveterate hatred, of all he and she fools, which will
certainly be at least three parts in four of all her acquaintance. The use of
knowledge in our sex, besides the amusement of solitude, is to moderate the
passions, and learn to be contented with a small expense, which are the cer-
tain effects of a studious life. And it may be preferable even to that fame
which men have engrossed to themselves, and will not suffer us to share.
You will tell me I have not observed this rule myself ; but you are mistaken.
It is only inevitable accident that has given me any reputation that way. I
have always carefully avoided it, and even thought it a misfortune. The
explanation of this paragraph would occasion a long digression, which I will
not trouble you with, it being my present design only to say what I think
useful for the instruction of my granddaughter. If she has the same inclina-
tion (I should say passion) for learning that I was born with, history, geogra-
phy, and philosophy, will furnish her with materials to pass away cheerfully a
longer life than is allotted to mortals. I believe there are few heads capable
of making Sir I. Newton's calculations, but the result of them is not difficult
to be understood by a moderate capacity. Do not fear this should make her

affect the character of Lady , or Lady , or Mrs. ; those women

are ridiculous, not because they have learning, but because they have it not.
One thinks herself a complete historian, after reading Echard's "Roman His-
tory ;" another, a profound philosopher, having got by heart some of Pope's
unintelligible essays ; and a third, an able divine, on the strength of White-
field's sermons. Thus you hear them screaming politics and controversy.

It is a saying of Thucydides, ignorance is bold and knowledge reserved.
Indeed, it is impossible to be far advanced in it without being more humbled
by a conviction of human ignorance than elated by learning. At the same
time I recommend books, I neither exclude work nor drawing. I think it is
as scandalous for a woman not to know how to use a needle as for a man not
to know how to use a sword. I was once extreme fond of my pencil, and
it was a great mortification to me when my father turned off my master, hav-
ing made considerable progress for a short time I learnt. My overeagerness
in the pursuit of it had brought a weakness on my eyes that made it neces-

THE LETTER, 333

sary to leave it off ; and all the advantage I got was the improvement of my
hand. I see, by hers, that practice will make her a ready writer. She may
attain it by serving you for a secretary, when your health or affairs make it
troublesome to you to write yourself ; and custom will make it an agreeable
amusement to her. She cannot have too many for that station of life which
will probably be her fate. The ultimate end of your education was to make
you a good wife (and I have the comfort to hear that you are one); hers
ought to be to make her happy in a virgin state. I will not say it is happier,
but it is undoubtedly safer, than any marriage. In a lottery, where there are
(at the lowest computation) ten thousand blanks to a prize, it is the most
prudent choice not to venture. I have always been so thoroughly persuaded
of this truth, that, notwithstanding the flattering views I had for you (as I
never intended you a sacrifice to my vanity), I thought I owed you the justice
to lay before you all the hazards attending matrimony : you may recollect
I did so in the strongest manner. Perhaps you may have more success in the
instructing of your daughter. She has so much company at home, she will
not need seeking it abroad, and will more readily take the notions you think
fit to give her. As you were alone in my family, it would have been thought
a great cruelty to suffer you no companions of your own age, especially hav-
ing so many near relations, and I do not wonder their opinions influenced
yours. I was not sorry to see you not determined on a single life, knowing
it was not your father's intention, and contented myself with endeavoring
to make your home so easy that you might not be in haste to leave it.

I am afraid you will think this a very long and insignificant letter. I
hope the kindness of the design will excuse it, being willing to give you every
proof in my power that I am

Your most affectionate

MOTHER.

Lady Mary, Madame de Sevigne" (" the most admirable
letter writer that ever lived "), and Madame d' Arblay, are
proofs of the truth of Bulwer's saying, "A woman is the
genius of epistolary correspondence."

Later English letters that may be read by the student
with advantage are the lively, pointed, and witty produc-
tions of Horace Walpole ; the letters of Chesterfield,
" the gentleman on paper ; " the artless letters of Gray ;
the letters of Cowper, which have been characterized as
"the pure effusions of a sweet and loving soul;" and

334 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

those from the pen of Thomas Hood, "dipped alike in
the springs of laughter and the sources of tears."

The English Grammar of William Cobbett, which
Hazlitt described as " interesting as a storybook," the
author tells us he " put into the form of letters to his four-
teen-year-old son James, in order that he might be continu-
ally reminded that he was addressing persons who needed
to be spoken to with great clearness." That a subject
like grammar may be delightfully taught in this way is
evidenced in the following letter on Syntax as relating to
Articles : —

MY DEAR JAMES :

Before you proceed to my instructions relative to the employing of
Articles, you will do well to read again all the paragraphs in Letter IV. Our
Articles are so few in number, and they are subject to so little variation in
their orthography, that very few errors can arise in the use of them. But,
still, errors may arise ; and it will be necessary to guard you against them.

You will not fall into very gross errors in the use of the Articles. You
will not say, as in the erroneous passage cited by Doctor Lowth, "And I
persecuted this way unto the death," meaning death generally ; but you may
commit errors less glaring. " The Chancellor informed the Queen of it, and
she immediately sent icxthe Secretary and Treasurer." Now, it is not certain
here whether the Secretary and Treasurer be not one and the same person;
which uncertainty would have been avoided by a repetition of the Article :
" the Secretary and the Treasurer :" and you will bear in mind, that in every
sentence, the very first thing to be attended to is clearness as to meaning.

Nouns which express the whole of a species do not, in general, take the
definite Article ; as, " Grass is good for horses, and wheat for men." Yet,
in speaking of the appearance of the face of the country, we say, " The grass
looks well ; the wheat is blighted." The reason of this is that we are, in this
last case, limiting our meaning to the grass and the wheat which are on the
ground at this time. " How do hops sell ? Hops are dear ; but the hops
look promising." In this respect there is a passage in Mr. Tull which is
faulty. "Neither could weeds be of any prejudice to corn." It should be
"the corn ; " for he does not mean corn universally, but the standing corn,
and the corn amongst which weeds grow ; and therefore the definite Article
is required.

THE LETTER. 335

"Ten shillings the bushel," and like phrases, arc perfectly correct.
They mean, " ten shillings by the bushel or for the bushel." Instead of this
mode of expression, we sometimes use, "Ten shillings a bushel ;" that is to
say, ten shillings for a bushel, or a bushel at a time. Either of these modes
of expression is far preferable to per bushel ; for the per is not English, and
is, to the greater part of the people, a mystical sort of word.

When there are several nouns following the indefinite Article, care ought
to be taken that it accord with them. " A dog, cat, owl, and sparrow." Owl
requires an; and therefore the Article must be repeated in this phrase ; as,
a dog, a cat, an owl, and a sparrow.

Nouns signifying fixed and settled collections of individuals, as thousand,
hundred, dozen, score, take the indefinite Article, though they are of plural
meaning. It is a certain mass, or number, or multitude, called a score, and
so on ; and the Article agrees with these understood words, which are in the
singular.

Varieties of Letters. — The principal varieties of letters
are : —

News Letters, containing accounts of what has hap-
pened or is happening elsewhere than at the place of
publication, of physical features, natural resources, scenery,
etc. The writing of such letters has become a profession,
and they now form a feature of all leading newspapers.
Profundity is not expected, unless they treat of political,
religious, or other serious topics. They should rather
be characterized by brilliancy of thought, and an original,
striking mode of expression. Their effect may often be
increased by strokes of humor, and what is commonly
called piquancy, or a pleasing vein of sarcasm on persons
and things in general. Taste and judgment are required
for a proper selection of subjects. The space allowed,
being generally limited, should be filled to the best advan-
tage. Local gossip should be avoided ; topics of general
interest only are admitted, as in the following from the
consul at Bagdad in regard to agriculture in Babylonia : —

336 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

BAGDAD, July 7, 1894.

In ancient times, when the whole of Babylonian Mesopotamia, and the
greater portion of the tract intervening between the Tigris and the mountains
of Persia and Kurdistan, were artificially irrigated, this region held the prin-
cipal granaries of the world. Such was the fertility of the soil, that, according
to Herodotus, it yielded commonly two hundredfold, and sometimes three
hundredfold. Now agriculture, as well as all other industries, is in a
deplorable state ; and the yield of both wheat and barley is said to average
but twentyfold, — less than five bushels of the former, and not much more of
the latter, being produced per acre.

For the correctness of this statement, however, I do not like to vouch,
as on no subject is reliable information obtainable here. Indeed, a dozen
grain merchants, both Europeans and natives, of whom I made inquiry, as-
sured me that measure and weight were not consulted either in sowing or
reaping ; but an ex-robber chief, who now tills the soil, told me that on a
fidan of land he sows eight wezneh of wheat or ten of barley, from which
he reaps eight and ten toghar respectively. Now, a fidan is said to be 734
meters square, or about 135^ acres, while a wezneh is 100 kilograms, and a
toghar 20 wezneh. From these data, I figure that an acre of land produces
4.3 bushels of wheat.

Only small patches of ground close to the river banks are now culti-
vated. Seedtime is in November, and harvest time in May. The plowing
consists merely in superficial scratching with a wooden stick. As the rainfall
is insignificant, irrigation becomes necessary, and the water is raised from the
river in skins by means of a rope running over a wooden roller between two
uprights, oxen furnishing the motive power. These rollers are never lubri-
cated, and can be heard a mile away.

The grain is cut with a sickle, the blade of which is about eight inches
long, and slightly curved. The grain is piled up around a stake, and trampled
by horses tied to the stake with a long rope, so that they walk in an ever-
narrowing circle (as the rope winds around the stake), dragging after them
a box on rollers supplied with knives. This constitutes the thrashing, and
at the same time cuts the straw, which is used for cattle feed and in brick-
making. The grain is stored in artificial caves, the openings of which are
covered with earth to conceal them from robbers and tax collectors.

To prepare bread, the grain is first pounded in a large wooden mortar,
two women wielding the pestle. It is then tossed up in the air (winnowed)
several times from a basket, in order to separate the chaff from the grain,
after which it is ground in a hand mill. Some mills are moved by horse
power. No yeast is used. The flour is mixed with unfiltered river water,
which holds a large quantity of sand in suspension, not to mention other

THE LETTER. 337

impurities. The dough is then formed into cakes, and these are baked on hot
ashes in a circular mud oven open at the top. This bread is preferred to
European or American bread, not only by the Arabs, but by Europeans who
have resided here any length of time. To me it is extremely unpalatable.

Farmers are taxed ten per cent of their crops, and twenty per cent if the
crops are produced without irrigation. Vegetables are taxed similarly. Date
trees are taxed one piaster (4.4 cents) per tree, and two piasters if irrigation is
dispensed with. Other taxes must be paid every time the products are moved.

The quantity of grain exported varies greatly from year to year. In
l88c, two hundred hundredweight (373 bushels) of wheat were shipped to
England. This year the crops have been almost totally destroyed ; and there
will probably be nothing to export, though last year's crops, of which but
little has been sold, will prevent a famine.

As population increases, Irak, or Babylonia, will again become one of
the leading food-producing lands. The ancient irrigation canals can easily
be restored, and this will relieve the spring pressure of water in the rivers, and
prevent inundations. If trees were then planted along the banks of the
canals, it would probably change the climate by increasing the rainfall, and
distributing it more evenly throughout the year, which would again lower the
extreme summer heat, and equalize the temperature. With intelligent encour-
agement given to agriculture, this whole region could be reconverted into a
garden. By the aid of modern methods and machinery, thirty-two million
acres of desert and swamp lands between Mosul (ancient Nineveh) and the
Persian Gulf could be transformed into grain fields and fruit gardens more
productive than any others in the world.

Business Letters. — In business or mercantile letters,
brevity and clearness are all important. Neither writer
nor receiver of letter has time to waste on redundances
and digressions ; the former should confine himself strictly
to the business in hand, and aim at the greatest degree of
conciseness consistent with perspicuity. Ambiguous lan-
guage is likely to be interpreted to the advantage of the
person or firm addressed. Obscurity may cause embar-
rassing delay or serious mistake. Hence short sentences
without ornament are adapted to this form of letter.
Nowhere is carelessness to be more scrupulously guarded
against.

QUACK. RHET. — 22

338 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

Official Letters are such as pass between men in office,
respecting public affairs. They are always formal, and
abound in phrases of courtesy. Their style should be
firm and dignified. The tendency at present is to address
the office rather than the temporary incumbent : thus, " To
the General commanding the Armies of the United States."

Letters of Friendship, or Domestic Letters. — A good
letter of friendship bears the same relation to other kinds
of writing that familiar conversation does to the more
dignified varieties of speech. .It is, as Pope called it, "a
talk on paper." The charm of such a letter is its nat-
uralness, its freedom from stiffness and affectation. It
should be a mirror of the writer's mind, and nothing is so
likely to insure this as a conversational style. We should
write as we would speak were the friend we address sud-
denly to make his appearance, yet, of course, with more
deliberation and care. If his stay were to be brief, we
would naturally touch only on the more interesting topics ;
and so, in a letter, where we are necessarily limited, we
should give preference to those subjects that are most
important.

Writers of domestic letters are especially cautioned against diffuse-
ness, which arises from a fear that they may not have sufficient matter
to fill the sheet ; against flippancy, which results from heedlessness of
the fact that what is committed to paper is not, like conversation, for-
gotten, but is preserved, and may at any time be made public; and
against egotism. The latter cannot but be distasteful to the person
addressed, no matter how great his interest in the writer. A friend, of
course, expects from his correspondent some personal intelligence ; but
he looks for other matter along with it, and will inevitably be struck
with the bad taste of one who confines his letter to an enumeration of
his own exploits, or those of the limited circle to which he belongs.
In like manner, we should avoid filling a letter with details relating
to persons with whom the friend addressed is unacquainted.

THE LETTER. 339

Notes of Ceremony and Compliment. — A short letter is
called a note. Formal notes of invitation, acceptance,
and regret, are written in the third person, and are dated
at the bottom without signature. Thus : —

INVITATION. ACCEPTANCE.

The Reverend and Mrs.

Charles J. Kellogg present ... „ , . .

J &e> r Mrs. Baker accepts with

their compliments to Mrs. pleasure the polite invitation

Baker, and request the pleas- of ^ Reverend and Mrs.

ure of her company at the charles y Kdl for the
Rectory on Thursday evening,

^
the i6th instant, at eight

,. , No. Zl Third Street,

0 ciock- December the ninth.

No. 70 Highland A venue,

December the eighth.

Care must be taken to avoid the use of the first or
second person after the third has been employed ; as,
" Mrs. White would be happy to accept Miss Jennings' s
invitation to luncheon, but I have a previous engagement."

When one is addressed directly in the second person
as you, it is incumbent upon him to reply in the first as /.

INVITATION. REGRET.

Larchmont, New York,

September the third. September the third.

Dear Sir : My Dear Sir :

Will you do me the favor I regret that a previous

to dine with me and a few engagement will render it im-

friends to-morrow evening, possible for me to dine with

at the Century Club, at seven you to-morrow evening, as

o'clock? you kindly propose.
Very truly yours, Faithful'y yours,

GEORGE H. LYMAN. JOHN DIXON.

Col. "John Dixon. Mr. George IT. Lyman.

In the case of a dancing party, it is usual to place
the word Dancing below the invitation, on the left.

34O STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

Letters of Introduction have in view either a business
or social object. It is customary to leave them un-
sealed, and to write in the lower left-hand corner of the
envelope the word Introducing, and under it the name of
the person introduced. In a business letter of introduc-
tion, truth is of primary importance. It is false kindness
to exaggerate the merits of the bearer, or to recommend
in high terms an acquaintance but partially known.

Social letters of introduction should be written only
for those whose standing and characters are known to be
unexceptionable. The introduction by letter of an improper
person or of a social inferior is inexcusable. Business let-
ters of introduction are delivered in person ; social letters
of introduction are better sent by a servant or by mail,
always with the card of the person introduced.

Letters of Condolence are letters expressing sympathy
with persons in affliction. They are by far the most diffi-
cult of letters to write, great tact being necessary. Ill-
judged consolation, instead of healing the wound, opens it
afresh. A few simple, feeling words, are all that should
be said, and these should be said as soon as practicable.
Letters of condolence do not require answer.

The following delicately worded letter of sympathy,
written by Thomas Jefferson to John Adams on the death
of Mrs. Adams, may serve as a model : —

MONTICELLO, Nov. 13, i8i8.

The public papers, my dear frie,nd, announce the fatal event of which
your letter of October the 2Oth had given me ominous foreboding. Tried
myself in the school of affliction by the loss of every form of connection
which can rive the human heart, I know well and feel what you have lost,
what you have suffered, are suffering, and have yet to endure. The same
trials have taught me, that, for ills so immeasurable, time and silence are the
only medicine. I will not therefore by useless condolences open afresh the

THE LETTER. 34!

sluices of your grief, nor, although mingling sincerely my tears with yours,
will I say a word more where words are vain ; but it is of some comfort to
us both that the time is not very distant at which we are to deposit in the
same cerement our sorrows and suffering bodies, and to ascend in essence to
an ecstatic meeting with the friends we have loved and lost, and whom we
shall still love, and never lose again. God bless you,, and support you under

your heavy affliction.

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

Letters of Congratulation are those in which the writer
professes his joy at the success or happiness of another,
or at some event deemed fortunate for both parties or for
the community at large. They should be brief, sincere,
cordial, and to the point.

QUESTIONS.

What is a letter? State your opinion of the importance of epis-
tolary correspondence. Mention the qualities of style essential in
letter writing. Mechanically, what is of first importance? Character-
ize flourishes ; underlining; interlineations; blots and erasures. How
does Lathrop bear testimony to the value of early care in letter writing?
As what should the student regard the writing of every letter? State
the effect of letters written in lead pencil. Draw a diagram illustrating
the mechanical plan of a letter. What does the date include? How
would you characterize the omission of the date ? (As impolite.}
Should attention be called to the fact in answering ? (Always ; thus :
Yours without date is at hand.} Define and illustrate the salutation of
a letter. How should the President of the United States be addressed
in the salutation? The governor of a state? The mayor of a city?
An archbishop? A bishop ? An archdeacon ? A dean or chancellor?
( Very Reverend Sir.} A cardinal ? (Most Eminent Sir, or Most Emi-
nent and Reverend Sir.} Women at the head of religious orders ?
What is the practice in the case of a firm composed of men and
women ? In the case of a firm consisting of one man and one woman?

Define and illustrate the complimentary close. State the essen-
tials of the signature. What does the inside address include? What
pre-titles may be abbreviated? State the proper mode of addressing

a cardinal (To his Eminence, Cardinal , no titles) ; a bishop (The

Right Reverend) ; a Jewish rabbi ; any clergyman ; the dean of a

342 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

theological seminary (The Very Reverend the Dean of ) ; a judge

(The Honorable) ; the mayor of a city (To the Honorable , Mayor

of ); the Senate as a body (7<? the Honorable the Senate of the

State of , salutation, Honorable Sirs') ; a gentleman without

professional title. How are unmarried women addressed? Married
women? Widows? State your opinion of the forms, Mrs. General
Bonner, Mrs. Doctor Drugs. What principles govern the placing of
post-titles? What rhetorical value have postscripts? What is the
superscription? What letters merit answers ? In answering a letter,
what is always proper at the outset ? (To acknowledge the receipt of
the correspondent's communication.) Give directions for folding and
sealing letters. Where on the envelope should the stamp be affixed?
(/» the upper right-hand corner, with a narrow margin on each side.)
For what only may post cards be used ? Specify purposes for which the
letter form has been employed. Name some prominent letter writers.
What are news letters? What can you say of their popularity
and value? By what should they not be characterized? State the
essentials of a business letter. To what should such a letter be con-
fined? Why should not matters of friendship be mentioned in a busi-
ness letter ? (Business letters are of (en necessarily exhibited to those
who have no personal interest in the correspondents.) What is gener-
ally embodied in the opening sentence of an answer to a business
letter? (A statement of what such letter is understood to contain.)
How is it usual to begin a business letter in answer to another bearing
the same date? {Referring to yours of even date, or Yo2trs of even
date at hand.) What style is adapted to letters of friendship? Into
what errors are writers of such letters likely to fall ? Describe a note
of invitation. What is to be observed regarding the confusion of
grammatical persons in such notes ? Define letters of introduction.
What is customary with respect to such letters? What cautions are
to be observed? Explain letters of condolence, and the tact that is
necessary in writing them. What are congratulatory letters? Who
only write anonymous letters ? (The cowardly and unprincipled.)

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Write a letter to Hilton, Hughes, & Co., of New York, requesting
the firm to quote prices of spring silks.

Write a letter to the President at Washington, recommending
A B for the position of United States Consul at Leghorn.

THE LETTER. 343

Write a letter to the " Chicago Times " on the recent explorations
near Babylon (see consular reports for November, 1894) ; or on the
agricultural outlook for the State in which you live ; or on neighbor-
ing mining industries ; or on native fishes, flora, or bird-life.

Write an invitation to a silver wedding.

WTrite a note requesting the loan of a volume.

Read before the class, and criticise, the following letters : —

A LETTER FROM GOLDSMITH TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

MY DEAR FRIEND:

We had a very quick passage from Dover to Calais, which we per-
formed in three hours and twenty minutes, all of us extremely seasick,
which must necessarily have happened, as my machine to prevent sea-
sickness was not completed. We were glad to leave Dover, because we
hated to be imposed upon ; so were in high spirits at coming to Calais,
where we were told that a little money would go a great way. Upon land-
ing two little trunks, which was all we carried with us, we were surprised to
see fourteen or fifteen fellows all running down to the ship to lay their hands
upon them. Four got under each trunk, the rest surrounded and held the
hasps ; and in this manner our little baggage was conducted, with a kind of
funeral solemnity, till it was safely lodged at the customhouse. We were
well enough pleased with the people's civility till they came to be paid ;
when every creature that had the happiness of but touching our trunks with
their finger expected sixpence, and had so pretty, civil a manner of demand-
ing it, that there was no refusing them. When we had done with the porters
we had next to speak with the customhouse officers, who had their pretty,
civil way too. We were directed to the Hotel d'Angleterre, where a valet-
de-place came to offer his service, and spoke to me ten minutes before I once
found out that he was speaking English. We had no occasion for his ser-
vices, so we gave him a little money — because he spoke English, and because
he wanted it. I cannot help mentioning another circumstance. I bought a
new ribbon for my wig at Canterbury, and the barber at Calais broke it in
order to gain sixpence by buying me a new one.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

ONE OF HEADLEY'S LETTERS FROM THE ADIRONDACK.

FORKED LAKE, August. 1848.

DEAR H :

Taking Mitchell along with me, we embarked on Monday in his birch-
bark canoe for Forked and Raquette Lakes. Paddling leisurely up Long

344 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

Lake, I was struck with the desolate appearance of the settlement. Scarcely
an improvement has been made since I was last here, while some clearings
are left to go back to their original wildness. Disappointed purchasers,
lured in by extravagant statements, have given up in despondency, and left.
The best people are all going away ; and in a short time there will be nobody
left but hunters. This wilderness will be encroached upon in time ; though
it will require years to give us so crowded a population as to force settlements
into this desolate interior of the State. .

But our light canoes soon left the last clearing; and, curving round the
shore, we shot into Raquette River, and entered the bosom of the forest. As
we left the lake, I saw a northern diver some distance up the inlet, evidently
anxious to get out once more into open space. These birds (about the size
of a goose), you know, cannot rise from the water except by a long effort
and against a strong damp wind, and depend for safety entirely on diving
and swimming. At the approach of danger they go under like a duck; and
when you next see them, they are perhaps sixty rods distant, and beyond the
reach of your bullet. If cornered in a small pond, they will sit and watch
your motions with a keenness and certainty that is wonderful, and dodge the
flash of a percussion-lock gun all day long. The moment they see the blaze
from the muzzle, they dive ; and the bullet, if well aimed, will strike exactly
where they sat. I have shot at them again and again, with a dead rest ; and
those watching would see the ball each time strike in the hollow made by the
wake of the water above the creature's back. There is no killing them
except by firing at them when they are not expecting it, and then their head
and neck are the only vulnerable points. They sit so deep in the water, and
the quills on their backs are so hard and compact, that a ball seems to make
no impression on them. At least, I have never seen one killed by being shot
through the body. Such are the means of self-preservation possessed by this
curious bird, whose wild, shrill, and lonely cry on the lake at midnight, is one
of the most melancholy sounds I ever heard in the forest.

Paddling up Raquette River, we at length came to Buttermilk Falls,
around which we were compelled to carry our canoes. So in another place
we were compelled to carry them two miles, around rapids, through the
woods. Nothing can be more comical than to stand and see -a party thus
passing through the forest. First a yoke is placed across the guide's neck,
on which the boat is balanced bottom side up, covering the poor fellow down
to the shoulders, and sticking out fore and aft over the biped below in such
a way as to make him appear half human, half supernatural, or at least
entirely a»-natural. But it was no joke to me to carry my part of the freight.
Two rifles, one overcoat, one teapot, one lantern, one basin, and a piece of
pork, were my portion. Sometimes I had a change ; namely, two oars and a

THE LETTER. 345

paddle, balanced by a tin pail in place of a rifle. Thus equipped, I would
press on for a while, and then stop to see "the procession, each poor fellow
staggering under the weight he bore ; while in the long intervals appeared the
two inverted boats, walk-ing through the woods on two human legs in the
most surprising manner imaginable. Though fagged out, I could not refrain
from frequent outbursts of laughter, that made the forest ring again.

It was a relief to launch again ; and when at last we struck the river just
after it leaves Forked Lake, and gazed on the beautiful sheet of water that
was rolling and sparkling in the sunlight ahead, an involuntary shout burst
from the party. A flock of wild ducks, scared at the sound, made the water
foam as they rose at our feet, and sped away. Stemming the rapid stream
with our light prows, we were soon afloat on the bosom of the lake. The
wind was blowing directly in our teeth, making the miniature waves leap and
dance around us as if welcoming us to their home. A white gull rose from a
rock at our side ; a fishhawk screamed around her huge nest on a lofty pine
tree on the shore, as she wheeled and circled above her offspring ; a raven
croaked overhead ; the cry of loons arose in the distance — and all was wild
yet beautiful. The sun was stooping to the western mountains, whose sea of
summits was calmly sleeping against the golden heavens ; the cool breeze
stirred a world of foliage on our right ; green islands, beautiful as Elysian
fields, rose out of the water as we advanced ; the sparkling waves rolled as
merrily under as bright a sky as ever bent over the earth ; and for a moment I
seemed to have been transported into a new world. I never was more struck
by a scene in my life. Its utter wildness, spread out there where the ax of
civilization has never struck a blow, the evening, the sunset, the deep purple
of the mountains, the silence and solitude of the shores, and the cry of birds
in the distance, — combined to render it one of enchantment to me. My feel-
ings were more excited, perhaps, by the consciousness that we were without
any definite object before us, no place of rest, but sailing along looking out
for some good point of land on which to pitch our camp.

Yours truly,

J. T. HEADLEY.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

James Wood Davidson's "The Correspondent," an indispensa-
ble writing-desk companion ; Gaskell's " Compendium of Forms ; "
Payne's " Business Letter Writer and Book of Commercial Forms;"
Mrs. Dahlgren's " Etiquette of Social Life in Washington ; " Bainton's
"The Art of Authorship," a repository of letters from eminent literary
characters ; W. B. Scoone's " Four Centuries of English Letters."

346 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

LESSON XXXI.

THE ESSAY.

The essay is properly a collection of notes indicating certain aspects of a sub-
ject, rather than the orderly or exhaustive treatment of it. It is not a formal siege,
but a series of assaults, essays, or attempts. It does not pursue its theme like a
pointer, but goes hither and thither like a bird to find material for its nest, or a bee
to get honey for its comb. — New Princeton Review.

The essay writer is the lay preacher upon that vague mass of doctrine which
we dignify with the name of knowledge of life or of human nature. — Corn/iill
Magazine.

An Essay is a Composition which appeals to the Under-
standing, the faculty of comprehending, and of forming
definite conclusions. It is concerned with a particular
subject, which it treats in a manner calculated both to
interest and instruct. The essay, therefore, is a form of
Expository writing. Lord Bacon defined his essays as
"brief notes set down significantly." Minute treatment
hardly falls within the province of the essayist.

The essay assumed its modern form and importance
in the early part of the present century, through the con-
tributions of a group of witty and learned writers to the
great reviews and magazines. So popular and so neces-
sary has this literary form become, that it has been said
the number of essayists is now identical with the number
of authors.

The Style of the Essay varies with the subject, as well
as with the mood and genius of the writer, from the
familiar to the formal and the profound. The themes of
essays are largely abstract subjects, or topics connected

THE ESSAY. 347

with life and manners. Such may be treated popularly
or seriously. The style of Emerson's essays is preemi-
nently intellectual ; that is, intensely personal, broad, and
philosophical. The matter impresses more than the
manner ; the thought, more than the dress. The writer
must be a thinker to attain success in this form of essay.
Addison, Goldsmith, Christopher North (Professor John
Wilson), Matthew Arnold, and Lowell, wrote essays in a
graceful, dignified, and finished style, which is described
by the epithet literary. The popular style (in character
easily understood, and sufficiently graphic to be entertain-
ing, as in Washington Irving's " Sketch-Book ") is adapted
to the magazine article and the semiscientific lecture.

In regard to ornament, some of the styles referred to
are neat, that is, employ it in moderation ; others are
elegant, or go to the extreme of safety in the use of figure
and flower. A florid or luxuriant style is never in har-
mony.

Classification. — It may be inferred, from what has
been said, that the essay writer is allowed greater latitude
in the choice of his subject and in the manner and extent
of its treatment, than the composer in any other depart-
ment of prose. The term essay is singularly comprehen-
sive ; and a rigid classification of the compositions so
designated — critical, historical, and miscellaneous — is
hardly possible. Still, there are recognized forms, with
precise objects in view, which are described and illustrated
below.

The Editorial, or Newspaper Leader, is a short essay
presented in a newspaper or periodical, written by the
editor or one of his associates, and setting forth the posi-
tion of the paper relative to some subject of the day. Its

348 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

object may be to persuade the reader, or merely to explain
an event chronicled in the news columns. Sincerity is
of vital importance. It is through his editorial page that
the manager of a paper is empowered to shape public
opinion, and direct public progress. His influence for
good, if he be an honest, earnest, and fearless man, is
all but incalculable. No office can reflect greater honor
on the incumbent, none is charged with higher respon-
sibility, than the editorship of an American newspaper.

James Gordon Bennett, of the " New-York Herald." once said that
the highest achievement of the human intellect is a good editorial.
We append a specimen of this kind of essay from the " Herald " of
Nov. 2, 1894: —

THE CZAR IS DEAD.

Czar Alexander III. of Russia is no more. After several weeks of
intense suffering, and in the midst of events connected with the imperial
household almost tragic in their nature, the most solitary and sorrowful life
of modern times has passed away. There had been for a few days hopes
entertained that the great ruler might regain his health and strength, and
that, instead of mourning at Livadia, there would be rejoicing at the nuptial
solemnities of his son and successor, the Czarowitz. Everything was in
readiness ; and royal wedding guests were hastening to the Crimea to be
present at the ceremony, when death suddenly stepped in. As if the fates
had not already too cruelly tortured the dying Emperor, who while dying had
been compelled to put aside one son, doomed to early death, from the succes-
sion to the throne, and had seen his Empress, one of the loveliest women in
Europe, who had shared with him his high position and its terrible dangers,
stricken down, mentally shattered.

The Czar lingered long enough in life to learn that the great world
beyond the Russian Empire had at last come to judge his character and his
reign with the justice so long denied them. For years he had been com-
pelled to hear of himself as the impersonation of the harshest tyranny, of the
worst example of imperial despotism, that Russia had ever produced. Hap-
pily, the English language, which for so many years vilified and condemned
him, has during the past few weeks been used, especially in England, to
make good the grievous wrong done through it in the past. Even England,
for whom Lord Rosebery spoke the other day, finally came to acknowledge

THE ESSAY. 349

his greatness as a ruler, his ardent love of peace, his supremacy for good in
the councils of Europe, and his uprightness as a man and monarch.

Czar Alexander all through his life longed for release from the high
position the fates gave him through the death of his elder brother. After he
had become Czarowitz, he wrote a remarkable letter to M. Aksakoff, the
great Panslavist, in which he said: "The position is too brilliant for my
character, which is only contented with peace and 'family life. Court life
does not suit me, and I suffer daily at being compelled to associate with the
men at court. I cannot accustom myself to judge their miserable actions
coolly. ... In losing my brother I suffered an irreparable loss. I am not
suited for the high mission which fate has ordained for me ; for if as Czaro-
witz the burden appears unbearable, how much heavier will that be which
in the future I shall have to bear ! "

The world has learned to know how terrible was the burden of the dead
Czar, who, because of the system that he was called upon to administer, and
which he so thoroughly despised, for a period of thirteen years was never for
a day safe from the devilish machinery of the assassin. His' father, Alex-
ander II., Jiad been struck down by a Nihilist bomb at the very moment when
a ukase was ready for his signature, granting a constitution to the Empire.
And every wish of Alexander III. to grant concessions to his people was
thwarted by the hideous attempts of the so-called revolutionists to annihilate
him and the family of the Romanoffs. He might have been led ; but he
could not be driven.

In the death of Czar Alexander, the people of America sympathize
deeply with the eighty millions of Russians in their grief. Between the
United States and Russia there has been, to the surprise of the European
world, an unbroken friendship that has lasted nearly a century. In some of
the most critical periods of our history, Russia has been ready to assist us. It
was the dead Czar's father, Alexander II., who, when Napoleon threatened
to interfere during the Civil War, said to Prince Gortschakoff, his minister
of foreign affairs : " Tell the French Emperor that the people of America
have the same right to maintain a republican form of government as Euro-
peans have to choose a monarchy, and we have no right to interfere in their
affairs any more than they have to interfere in ours. And tell him further,
Prince, that if he does interfere I will strike him."

The same generous feeling toward us has been shown by the late
Emperor on more than one occasion. It is a friendship strange as it is
spontaneous, and will, we trust, last through generations of czars yet to
come, until the two peoples shall have accomplished their great missions, —
the one to plant homes and commerce and industry across a broad continent
from the Atlantic to the Pacific ; the other to bear the standard of civilization
across the breadth of Central Asia, from the Euxine to the China Sea.

350 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

The Paragraph is a miniature essay, containing a brief
exposition of some point. It has become an important
vehicle for conveying a thought in terse and readable lan-
guage (p. 249). The present tendency of the editorial is
toward the paragraph ; limited time and space compel the
expression of views in this compact form.

The following paragraph is cut from the "Homiletic
Review : " —

" Even if evils are not greater than formerly, they are more observed,
and there is a stronger determination to expose them and to get rid of them.
This is especially true respecting social and religious evils. If a London dog
wears a necklace whose diamonds are worth over twelve hundred dollars,
while poor, starving women are pleading for work at a penny an hour, the
fact is sure to be published and to excite the severest comment. The crisis
through which we are passing makes men keenly alive to the needs of the
times and the shortcomings of believers. There is a wonderful awakening to
the reality of things, and much is coming to light which formerly would not
have been observed. If the criticism of the church is severe, it is because it
is felt that a great reform is needed."

The Review is a critical essay, a scussing the merits,
defects, and faults, of some literary production. The
chief essential of a good review is impartiality ; criti-
cism is neither chronic censure nor reckless praise (see
p. 14). Nothing is gained by "puffing" an undeserving
book; great injustice may be done by the sweeping con-
demnation of what is measurably meritorious. Scorch-
ing criticism always fails to shrivel the reputation of a
really great work.

A true critic acquaints himself thoroughly with the
good qualities of a composition before pronouncing judg-
ment on the bad, regarding it as " a much shallower and
more ignoble occupation to detect faults than to discover
beauties." The latter, indeed, is the more difficult task ;

THE ESSAY. 351

it implies finer taste organs and profounder knowledge, a
wider range of sympathy, and greater freedom both from
prejudice and prepossession, than indiscriminate fault-
finding. As Dryden has justly sung, —

" Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow ;

He who would search for pearls must dive below."

Carlyle remarks as follows on the practice of review-
ing : —

" In what is called reviewing, we are aware that to the judicious crafts-
man two methods present themselves. The first and most convenient is, for
the Reviewer to perch himself resolutely on the shoulder of his Author, and
therefrom to show as if he commanded him and looked down on him by
natural superiority of stature. Whatsoever the great man says or does, the
little man shall treat with an air of knowingness and light condescending
mockery ; professing, with much covert sarcasm, that this and that other is
beyond his comprehension, and cunningly asking his readers if they compre-
hend it ! Herein it will help him mightily, if, besides description, he can
quote a few passages, which in their detached state, and taken most probably
in quite a wrong acceptation of the words, shall sound strange, and, to cer-
tain hearers, even absurd ; all which will be easy enough, if he have any
handiness in the business, and address the right audience ; truths, as this
world goes, being true only for those that have some understanding of them.
On the other hand, should our Reviewer meet with any passage, the wisdom
of which, deep, plain, and palpable to the simplest, might cause misgivings
in the reader, our Reviewer either suppresses it, or citing it with an air of
meritorious candor, calls upon his Author, in a tone of command and of
encouragement, to lay aside his transcendental crotchets, and write always
thus, and he will admire him. Whereby the reader again feels comforted ;
proceeds swimmingly to the conclusion of the ' Article,' and shuts it with a
victorious feeling, not only that he and the Reviewer understand this man,
but also that, with some rays of fancy and the like, the man is little better
than a living mass of darkness.

" In this way does the small Reviewer triumph over great Authors ; but
it is the triumph of a fool. In this way, too, does he recommend himself to
certain readers, but it is the recommendation of a parasite, and of no true
servant. The servant would have spoken truth in this case ; truth, that it
might have profited, however harsh : the parasite glozes his master with sweet

352 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

speeches, that he may filch applause, and certain ' guineas per sheet,' from
him ; substituting, for ignorance which was harmless, error which is not so.

" Is it the Reviewer's real trade to be a pander of laziness, self-conceit,
and all manner of contemptuous stupidity on the part of his readers, care-
fully ministering to these propensities, carefully fencing off whatever might
invade that fool's paradise with news of disturbance? Is he the priest of
Literature and Philosophy, to interpret their mysteries to the common man ;
as a faithful preacher, teaching him to understand what is adapted for his
understanding, to reverence what is adapted for higher understandings than
his? Or merely the lackey of Dullness, striving for certain wages, of pud-
ding or praise, by the month or quarter, to perpetuate the reign of presump-
tion and triviality on earth? If the latter, will he not be counseled to pause
for an instant, and reflect seriously whether starvation were worse or were
better than such a dog's-existence? "

The Subjoined Specimen of the Review is taken from
"The New- York Evening Post" of Dec. 28, 1894. The
student will notice how it summarizes the contents of the
work under consideration, presenting not merely a just
estimate of its ' style and technic, but at the same time
extracting much useful information for the entertainment
and instruction of the reader. When the saving of time
is an object, the contents of books may thus be quickly
reached through the medium of well-written reviews.

"'Wild Animals in Captivity; or, Orpheus at the Zoo, and Other Papers.'
By C. J. Cornish. Macmillan & Co., 1894. Pp. viii. 340. 8vo. Illus-
trated.

"The publishers present in this volume a reprint of articles which origi-
nally appeared in the ' Spectator ' and other British journals, together with
some hitherto unpublished chapters, illustrated by admirable photographs of
animals from life by Gambier Bolton, with a few reproductions of Japanese
drawings of animals. The Bolton photographs, which number a baker's
dozen, will be prized by everyone interested in wild animals. The best of
them have hardly been surpassed in their class. The Japanese sketches, how-
ever, are not especially noteworthy ; and much better ones might have been
selected from the children's storybook of Japanese fairy tales, printed in Tokio
with English text, at the instance of Professor Basil Hall Chamberlain.

" Apart from the illustrations, the book is not remarkable, being chiefly

THE ESSAY. 353

made up of sketchy papers based on observations by the author at the Zoo-
logical Gardens, Regent's Park, London. These articles, while pleasantly
written, hardly rise to the dignity of either literature or science ; though young
people unacquainted with natural history will find in them, stated with suffi-
cient accuracy, numerous facts about animals, birds, and insects, which it is
well they should know. The only parts of the book which possess any flavor
of originality are those which treat of some simple experiments on the suscep-
tibility of various animals to musical sounds, and a discussion of a few points
connected with patterns of coloration in animals.

" The author, assisted by a violinist, and later by a piccolo player, visited
a number of the cages, and noted the behavior of their inmates. The taran-
tula showed no evidence of being affected by music ; but a nest of scorpions
became violently agitated on the production of high and piercing notes.
Snakes, especially the cobras, justified their reputation in Oriental story by
marked responsiveness to and apparent interest in the sound of the violin.
Most fourfooted animals were more or less pleasantly excited by the music.
The wolves and jackals, exceptionally, showed strong dislike and fear, partly
mingled with curiosity ; and the African elephant was evidently dissatisfied
with the performance. Discords were universally received with a sudden
start, and signs of displeasure. All animals, except cobras and wolves, showed
pleasure and curiosity when listening to soft and melancholy music ; and all
exhibited extreme dislike of loud, harsh sounds. The piccolo, among the
instruments tried, met with the least approval ; while the flute and violin were
better liked. An imitation of bagpipes was enthusiastically received by the
orang-outang, — a young animal which had at first been much agitated and
somewhat alarmed by the violin.

" Much more thorough and long-continued observation and experiment
would be required to serve as an adequate basis for generalization in regard
to this branch of animal aesthetics ; but even these preliminary data have an
interest, and, as far as they go, accord very well with the popular beliefs
in regard to such matters current in the regions from which the respective
animals were obtained."

A Tract is a brief essay relating to some matter of
current concern, — religious, political, or literary, — and
seldom possessing sufficient general interest to survive
the occasion which gave it birth. Brevity and spontaneity
are its chief notes.

Tracts may be descriptive, controversial, didactic, or satirical.
The doctrines of Wyclif and other leaders of the Reformation were

QUACK. RHET. — 23

354

STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

disseminated by means of tracts. The Martin Mar-Prelate Tracts, of
1588-89 expressed the Puritan opposition to Episcopacy. In later
days, John Wesley and Hannah More circulated such essays for the
promotion of Christian knowledge; and the "Tracts for the Times"
(1833-37) taught the High-church doctrines of Edward Bouverie Pusey
and other " members of the University of Oxford." Many tract soci-
eties are now engaged in the publication and diffusion of religious
truth in the form of these brief and pointed expositions.

The Treatise is really a long, elaborate, and methodical
essay, which practically exhausts its subject. Treatises
may occupy a volume or more. They may be formal and
didactic, like the classics of Locke, Hume, and Darwin ;
or easy and simple in their style, and full of interest in
their themes, as Izaak Walton's " The Compleat Angler ;
or, the Contemplative Man's Recreation," - - a work that
raised angling to the level of an aesthetic pursuit, and
proved it to be " a school of virtues " in which men learn
lessons of wisdom, resignation, forbearance, and love, —
a work which has reached its hundredth edition, and has
influenced the style and thought of countless readers.

The treatise may take the form of the dissertation or
disquisition, both formal varieties of the essay ; the latter
being more distinctly a systematic inquiry into some
subject, implying a full examination of all the facts and
arguments bearing on it. In this case the treatise natu-
rally exhibits the various steps in the investigation by
which the facts dealt with are reached.

QUESTIONS.

Define the essay. To what does it appeal, and how should it
treat its subject? When, and through whom, did the essay assume
its modern form? In regard to style, can any uniform manner of
treatment be recommended or followed? How diverse are essay
themes? Characterize the style of Emerson's essays; the style of

THE ESSAY. 355

the essays of Addison, Christopher North, Matthew Arnold, and
Lowell. What style is adapted to the popular magazine article?
To what extent may ornament be employed by the essay writer ?

Classify essays. What is an editorial? A paragraph? A re-
view? State the chief essentials of a good review. In what spirit
should the critic approach his work? Give thev substance of Carlyle's
remarks on reviewers. How do they agree with Matthew Arnold's
conception of criticism (p. 14)? Of what subjects do tracts treat?
Are they usually fugitive? Mention some tracts having historical in-
terest. State the essential points of the treatise. How may treatises
differ in subject and style?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.
Expand into an essay the following figure of Carlyle's : —

" The ' critic fly,' if it do but alight on any plinth or single cornice of a
brave stately building, shall be able to declare, with its half-inch vision, that
here is a speck, and there an inequality ; that, in fact, this and the other indi-
vidual stone are nowise as they should be ; for all this the ' critic fly ' will be
sufficient : but to take in the fair relations of the Whole, to see the building
as one object, to estimate its purpose, the adjustment of its parts, and their
harmonious cooperation towards that purpose, will require the eye of a Vitru-
vius or a Palladio."

Write an editorial on Sunday Amusements ; an editorial on the
Annexation of Canada to the United States.

Review any recent book or report that you may have read.

Write a popular magazine article on any Vacation Trip (to Alaska,
to the North Cape, up the Nepigon, along the shore of Lake Superior,
through Oklahoma, etc.), illustrating, if possible, with photographs
of your own taking. For models of this form of the essay, consult
" Harper's Magazine " and " The Century."

Prepare a paragraph on the following literary precept from Vinet's
" Outlines of Philosophy and Literature : " " A puerility does not be-
come important because it has dropped from the pen of a great man.1'

Read the following essay on Hypnotism (by Dr. R. Osgood Ma-
son of the New-York Academy of Medicine) from the " New- York
Times," Nov. 5, 1893; note points of conformity to the principles of
expository writing ; characterize the style, the interest of the theme : —

356 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

" The phenomena of hypnotism may be viewed from two distinct stand-
points : one, that from which the physical, and especially the therapeutical,
features are most prominent ; the other, the psychical or mental aspect, which
presents phenomena no less striking, and which is especially attractive to
the more earnest students of psychology.

" There are two distinct and definite conditions in hypnotism ; namely,
(i) lethargy or the inactive stage, and (2) somnambulism or the alert stage ;
and if, in examining the subject, we make this simple division, we shall free
it from much confusion and verbiage.

" When a subject is hypnotized by any soothing process, he first experi-
ences a sensation of drowsiness, and then, in a space of time usually varying
from two to twenty minutes, he falls into a more or less profound slumber.
His breathing is full and quiet ; his pulse normal ; he is unconscious of his
surroundings ; or, possibly, he may be quiet, restful, indisposed to move, but
having a consciousness, dim and imperfect, of what is going on about him.

"This is the condition of lethargy ; and in it most subjects, but not all,
retain to a greater or less degree whatever position the hypnotizer imposes
upon them. They sleep on, often maintaining for hours what, under ordi-
nary circumstances, would be a most uncomfortable position, motionless as
a statue of bronze or stone. If, now, the hypnotized person speaks of his
own accord, or his magnetizer speaks to him and he replies, he is in the
somnambulic or alert stage. He may open his eyes, talk in a clear and ani-
mated manner ; he may walk about, and show even more intellectual acute-
ness and physical activity than when in his normal state ; or he may merely
nod assent, or answer slowly to his hypnotizer's questions. Still, he is in the
somnambulic or alert stage of hypnotism.

" The following are some of the phenomena which have been observed
in this stage. It is not necessary to rehearse the stock performances of lec-
ture-room hypnotists. While under the influence of hypnotic suggestion, a
lad, for instance, is made to go through the pantomime of fishing in an
imaginary brook ; a dignified man to canter round the stage on all fours,
under the impression that he is a pony, or watch an imaginary mousehole in
the most alert and interested manner, while believing himself a cat ; or the
subject is made to take castor oil with every expression of delight, or reject
the choicest wines with disgust, believing them to be nauseous drugs, or
stagger with drunkenness under the influence of a glass of pure water sup-
posed to be whisky. All these things have been done over and over for the
last forty years, and people have not known whether to consider them a
species of necromancy, or well-practiced tricks in which the performers were
accomplices. Or, perhaps, a few more thoughtful and better instructed
persons have looked upon them as involving psychological problems of the

THE ESSAY. 357

greatest interest, which might some day strongly influence all our systems of
mental philosophy.

" One of the most singular as well as important points in connection with
hypnotism is the rapport, or relationship, which exists between the hypnotizer
and the hypnotized subject. The manner in which the hypnotic sleep is
induced is of little importance. The important thing, if results of any kind
are to be obtained, is that rapport should be established. This relationship
is exhibited in various ways. Generally, while in the hypnotic state, the
subject hears no voice but that of his hypnotizer ; he does no bidding but
his, and receives no suggestions but from him, and no one else can awaken
him from his sleep. If another person interferes, trying to impose his influ-
ence upon the sleeping subject, or attempts to waken him, distressing and
even alarming results may appear. The degree to which this rapport exists
varies greatly in different cases ; but almost always, perhaps we should say
always, the condition exists in some degree. In some rare cases, this rapport
is of a still higher and more startling character, exhibiting phenomena so
contrary to, or rather so far exceeding, our usual experience, as to be a sur-
prise to all and a puzzle to the wisest.

" By no means the least interesting of the higher phenomena of hypno-
tism are post-hypnotic suggestions, or the fulfillment after waking of sugges-
tions impressed upon the subject when asleep. At a little gathering of ladies
and gentlemen last summer, much interest was manifested, and a general
desire to see some hypnotic experiments. Accordingly, one of the ladies,
whose good sense and good faith could not be doubted, was hypnotized, and
put into the condition of profound lethargy. After a few slight experiments,
exhibiting anaesthesia, hallucinations of taste, plastic pose, and the like, I said
to her in a decided manner : —

" 'Now I am about to awaken you. I will count five; and when I say
the word " five " you will promptly, but quietly and without any excitement,
awake. Your mind will be perfectly clear, and you will feel rested and

refreshed by your sleep. Presently you will approach Mrs. O , and will

be attracted by the beautiful shell comb which she wears in her hair, and you
will ask her to permit you to examine it.'

" I then commenced counting slowly; and at the word ' five ' she awoke,
opened her eyes promptly, looked bright and happy, and expressed herself
as feeling comfortable and greatly rested, as if she had slept through a whole
night. She rose from her chair, mingled with the company, and presently,
approaching Mrs. O , exclaimed, —

"'What a beautiful comb! Please allow me to examine it?' And,
suiting the action to the word, she placed her hand lightly on the lady's
head, examined the comb, and expressed great admiration for it ; in short,

358 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

she fulfilled with great exactness the whole suggestion. She was perfectly
unconscious that any suggestion had been made to her. She was greatly
surprised to see that she was the center of observation, and especially at the
ripple of laughter which greeted her admiration of the comb.

"To another young lady, hypnotized in like manner, I suggested that on
awaking she should approach the young daughter of our hostess, who was
present, holding a favorite kitten in her arms, and should say to her, ' What
a pretty kitten you have ! What is its name ? ' The suggestion was fulfilled
to the letter. It was only afterward that I learned that this young lady had
a very decided aversion to cats, and always avoided them if possible.

"One day when Drs. Liebault and Bernheim were together at the hospi-
tal, Dr. Liebault suggested to a hypnotized patient that when she awoke she
would no longer see Dr. Bernheim, but that she would recognize his hat,
would put it on her head, and offer to take it to him. When she awoke, Dr.
Bernheim was standing in front of her. She was asked, ' Where is Dr. Bern-
heim?' She replied, ' He is gone ; but here is his hat.' Dr. Bernheim then
said to her, ' Here I am, madam. I am not gone. You recognize me per-
fectly.' She was silent, taking not the slightest notice of him. Some one
else addressed her ; she replied with perfect propriety. Finally, when about
to go out, she took up Dr. Bernheim's hat, and put it on her head, saying she
would take it to him ; but to her Dr. Bernheim was not present.

" Suggestions for post-hypnotic fulfillment are sometimes carried out after
a considerable time has elapsed, and upon the precise day suggested. Bern-
heim, in August, 1883, suggested to S , an old soldier, while in the hyp-
notic sleep, that upon the 3d of October following, sixty-three days after the
suggestion, he should go to Dr. Liebault's house ; that he would there see
the President of the Republic, who would give him a medal. Promptly on

the day designated he went. Dr. Liebault states that S came at 12.50

o'clock. He greeted M. F , who met him at the door as he came in, and

then went to the left side of the office, without paying any attention to any-
one. Dr. Liebault continues : —

" ' I saw him bow respectfully, and heard him speak the word " Excellence."
Just then he held out his right hand, and said, " Thank your Excellence." Then I
asked him to whom he was speaking. " Why, to the President of the Republic."
He then bowed, and a few minutes later took his departure.'

"Throughout the history of hypnotism, one of its chief features has been
its power, through suggestion, to relieve suffering, and cure disease ; and at
the present day, while many physicians who are quite ignorant of its uses,
in general terms deny its practicability, few who have any real knowledge
of it are so unjust, or regardless of facts, as to deny its therapeutic effects.

TJIK KSSAY. 359

" Among the things which may be considered established are: —

" (l) The reality of the hypnotic condition.

" (2) The increased and unusual power of suggestion over the hypno-
tized subject.

" (3) Tne usefulness of hypnotism as a therapeutic agent.

" (4) The perfect reality, and natural, as contrasted with supernatural,
character of many wonderful phenomena, both physical and psychical, ex-
hibited in the hypnotic state.

" On the other hand, much remains for future study: —

" (i) The exact nature of the influence which produces the hypnotic
condition is not known.

" (2) Neither is the nature of the rapport, or peculiar relationship which
exists between the hypnotizer and the hypnotized subject, — a relationship
which is sometimes so close that the subject hears no voice but that of his
hypnotizer, perceives and experiences the same sensations of taste, touch,
and feeling, generally, as are experienced by him, and can be awakened only
by him.

" (3) Nor is it known by what peculiar process suggestion is rendered so
potent, turning, for the time being, water into wine, vulgar weeds into choi-
cest flowers, a ladies' drawing-room into a fish pond, clear skies and quiet
waters into lightning-rent storm clouds and tempest-tossed waves, laughter
into sadness, and tears into mirth.

" In dealing with the subject of hypnotism in this hasty and general way,
only such facts and phenomena have been presented as are known and
accepted by well-informed students of the subject. There are others still
more wonderful which later may claim our attention."

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Read the essays of Lord Bacon, Montaigne, Lamb, Jeffrey, De
Quincey, Macaulay (the creator of the historical essay), D'Israeli,
Carlyle, Bagehot, Matthew Arnold, Emerson, Whipple, and Lowell.

Read critically E. L. Godkin's " Reflections and Comments,
1865-1895," a series of essays on subjects which have engaged the
attention of the American people for the past thirty years.

Refer to " English Essays " in the series entitled " The Warwick
Library of English Literature" (Charles Scribners Sons).

On the style of the essay, consult Professor Hunt's " Studies in
Literature and Style."

360 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

LESSON XXXII.

NARRATIVES. -THE HISTORY.

Learn the past, and you will know the future. — CONFUCIUS.

The thing I want to see in History is not Redbook Lists, and Court Calendars,
and Parliamentary Registers, but the LIFE OF MAN : what men did, thought, suf-
fered, enjoyed ; the form, especially the spirit, of their terrestrial existence, its out-
ward environment, its inward principle ; how and what it was ; whence it proceeded,
whither it was tending. The time is approaching when the Court, the Senate, and
the Battlefield, receding more and more into the background, the Temple, the Work-
shop, and Social Hearth, will advance more and more into the foreground ; and History
will not content itself with shaping some answer to that question : How were men
taxed and kept quiet then ? but will seek to answer this other infinitely wider and
higher question : How and what were men then ? — CARLYLE.

Narratives consist, for the most part, of connected ac-
counts of the particulars of events, or of series of events.
The basis of such compositions is narration ; but into
them may also be introduced description, argument, expo-
sition, or speculation.

Narratives include Histories, Biographies, Obituaries,
Memoirs, Journals, Diaries, Anecdotes, Travels, and Voy-
ages.

A History is an orderly narration of past events. A
detached portion of history confined to some particular era
or event is known as an Historical Sketch. In a Chroni-
cle, the order of time is most conspicuous ; and Annals
are, strictly, narrations of events recorded year by year.

The proper office of the historian is to tell us the story
of the past accurately and interestingly, thus at once en-
tertaining and informing us. The qualities required are
a passion for facts and a bold imagination. In " The Dia-

NARRATIVES. — THE HISTORY. 361

mond Necklace," Carlyle remarks : " Instead of looking
fixedly at the Thing, and, first of all and beyond all, endeav-
oring to see it and fashion a living picture of it, not a
wretched politico-metaphysical abstraction of it, the histo-
rian has now other matters to look at. The Thing lies
shrouded, invisible, in thousandfold hallucinations and
foreign air-images. What did the Whigs say of it ? The
Tories ? The Priests ? The Freethinkers ? Above all, what
will my own listening circle say of me for what I say of
it? Thus is our poor historian's faculty directed mainly
on two objects, the Writing and the Writer, both of which
are quite extraneous, and the Thing Written of fares as
we see. Can it be wondered at that Histories wherein
open lying is not permitted are unromantic ? "

Very evidently the first duty of the historian is to
sift the accumulated mass of contradictory evidence in
an honest desire to arrive at the

Truth, the First Great Essential of an Historical Compo-
sition. — " Thinking to amuse my father," writes Walpole,
"after his retirement from the ministry, I once offered to
read a book of history. ' Anything but history,' said he,
' for history must be false ! ' ' The tendency of the pre-
ceding century was to make history a mere recital of
erroneous views or meaningless events ; but historians of
to-day regard the value of a narrative as consisting in its
fidelity to facts, not in its ingenious inferences from facts.
All prejudice must be laid aside by the recorder. Noth-
ing must be concealed, nothing exaggerated. All availa-
ble sources of information are to be explored; and, in
cases of doubtful or conflicting testimony, the evidence
must be carefully weighed, and truth insured at the ex-
pense of every other consideration.

362 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

The appearance of a single original document may suddenly over-
throw established opinions. At the moment Hume was sending some
sheets of his history to press, certain State Papers appeared ; and the
historian discovered in the collection what compelled him to stop the
printer, and make vital changes in his manuscript. He had been satis-
fied with the common accounts, the obvious sources of history, and is
said seldom to have arisen from his sofa to pursue obscure inquiries,
or delay the page that grew so rapidly under his charming pen. He
thus neglected the first duty of the narrator, who is under obligation to
leave no stone unturned in his search for truth.

Thus time often reverses contemporary or secondhand judgments.
Miss Strickland has shown the character of Mary Tudor to glitter with
virtues, even the greatest that ennoble humanity, — sincerity, chastity,
and mercy. And Cromwell has come to be regarded as the mightiest
intellect that ever swayed the destinies of England. In the light of
information wrung by modern science from the actual writings of the
people who settled the Valley of the Nile in prehistoric times, — in
the face of literary and scientific treasures rescued from the ruins of
the palace of Sardanapa'lus, — the ancient history of the Orient has been
recast. The contemporary records of past ages have within the last
quarter century rendered all secondhand Greek narrations worthless.

The Passion for Facts is the condition of truthfulness
in history. Carlyle was honestly possessed of the genuine
historic instinct, the true enthusiasm to know exactly what
happened. The style dominated by such a love of facts
cannot fall far short of perfection. To Macaulay, facts
appeared as "the dross of history; " but they are rather
the true metal, the gold which the narrator selects, and
artistically fashions for our delight and instruction. As
for the moral, a story well told is its own moral.

Interest, the Second Essential of Historical Composition.
— A good narrative is interesting. While events neces-
sarily constitute the great staple of history, there are other
matters — sketches of the institutions and domestic life of
the people, their distinguished men, literature, etc. — that

NARRATIVES. — THE HISTORY. 363

must be interwoven to make the fabric complete, to give
that clear idea of the condition of nations at different peri-
ods which is necessary to an appreciation of their improve-
ment and growth. Accordingly, the historian must not
confine himself to a mere account of revolutions and wars,
the rise and fall of states, but must endeavor also to show
the inner life and intellectual development of the people.

In his essay on history, Macaulay defines the perfect historian to
be "he in whose work the character and spirit of an age are exhibited
in miniature. He relates no fact, attributes no expression to his char-
acters, which is not authenticated by sufficient testimony. He shows
us the court, the camp, the senate. He shows us also the nation. He
considers no anecdote, no peculiarity of manner, no familiar saying, as
too insignificant for his notice, which is not too insignificant to illus-
trate the operation of laws, of religion, and of education, and to mark
the progress of the human mind. Men will not merely be described,
but will be made intimately known to us. The changes of manners
will be indicated, not merely by a few general phrases, but by appro-
priate images presented in every line.

"If a man such as we are supposing should write the history of
England, he would assuredly not omit the battles, the sieges, the nego-
tiations, the seditions, the ministerial changes. But with these he
would intersperse the details which are the charm of historical romances.
A truly great historian would reclaim those materials which the novel-
ist has appropriated. The early part of our history would be rich with
coloring from romance, ballad, and chronicle. We should find our-
selves in the company of knights such as those of Froissart, and of
pilgrims such as those who rode with Chaucer from the Tabard. Soci-
ety would be shown from the royal cloth of state to the den of the
outlaw, from the throne of the legate to the chimney corner where
the begging friar regaled himself. Palmers, minstrels, crusaders, the
stately monastery with the good cheer in its refectory and the high
mass in its chapel, the manor house with its hunting and hawking, the
tournament with the heralds and ladies, the trumpets and the cloth
of gold, — all would give truth and life to the representation.

" The revival of letters would not merely be described in a few
magnificent periods. We should discern in innumerable particulars

364 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

the fermentation of mind, the eager appetite for knowledge, which dis-
tinguished the sixteenth from the fifteenth century. In the Reformation
we should see, not merely a schism which changed the ecclesiastical
constitution of England and the mutual relations of the European
powers, but a moral war which raged in every family, which set the
father against the son and the son against the father, the mother
against the daughter and the daughter against the mother. Henry
would be painted with the skill of Tacitus. We should have the change
of his character from his profuse and joyous youth to his savage and
imperious old age. We should see Elizabeth in all her weakness and
in all her strength, surrounded by the handsome favorites whom she
never trusted and the wise old statesmen whom she never dismissed,
uniting in herself the most contradictory qualities of both her parents,
— the coquetry, the caprice, the petty malice, of Anne, the haughty
and resolute spirit of Henry. We have no hesitation in saying that a
great artist might produce a portrait of this remarkable woman at least
as striking as that in the novel of ' Kenilworth,1 without employing
a single trait not authenticated by ample testimony.1

" In the meantime we should see arts cultivated, wealth accu-
mulated, the conveniences of life improved. We should see towns
extended, deserts cultivated, the hamlets of fishermen turned into
wealthy havens, the meal of the peasant improved, and his hut more
commodiously furnished. We should see those opinions and feelings
which produced the great struggle against the house of Stuart slowly
growing up in the bosom of private families before they manifested
themselves in parliamentary debates.

" The instruction derived from history thus written would be of a
vivid and practical character. It would be received by the imagination
as well as by the reason. It would be not merely traced on the mind,
but branded into it."

The author of this admirable essay himself possessed
most of the attributes he here pictures as so essential ;
but sometimes his strong feelings led him to lose sight of
the cardinal virtue, — impartiality.

1 The description of Elizabeth by J. R. Green, in A Short History of the
English People, chap. vii. pp. 362-370, is a fulfillment of this prediction.

NARRATIVES. — THE HISTORY. 365

Historical Methods. — In his essay on Charlemagne,
De Quincey recognizes three modes of history, obeying
three distinct laws ; these he describes as the purely Nar-
rative, the Scenical, and the Philosophic.

The Function of the Purely Narrative Form is merely
to furnish facts, public events and their circumstances.

The Scenical Form is largely descriptive, opening a
thousand opportunities for pictures of manners and na-
tional temper in every stage of growth. Its object is, in
the words of Macaulay,—

"To make the past present ; to bring the distant near ; to place us in
the society of a great man, or on the eminence which overlooks the field of
a mighty battle ; to invest with the reality of human flesh and blood beings
whom we are too much inclined to consider as personified qualities in an alle-
gory ; to call up our ancestors before us with all their peculiarities of language,
manners, and garb ; to show us over their houses ; to seat us at their tables ;
to rummage their old-fashioned wardrobes ; to explain the uses of their ponder-
ous furniture."

Scenical histories presuppose in the reader " a general knowledge
of the great cardinal incidents," and select events with a view to pic-
turesque effects. Gibbon's " The History of the Decline and Fall of
the Roman Empire," and Carlyle's " The French Revolution," belong
to the scenical or vivid type. Burke and Macaulay possess great
descriptive power.

The Philosophic Method attempts to explain as well as
to record phenomena. "Philosophy," says De Quincey,
" or an investigation of the true moving forces in every
great train and sequence of national events, and an exhibi-
tion of the motives and the moral consequences in their
largest extent which have concurred with these events,
cannot be omitted in any history above the level of a
childish understanding."

So the historian becomes more than a mere chronicler.

366 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

In him must be united the capacity of research, the dis-
ciplined imagination which enables him to see events in
their connection, and the literary ability to present them
vividly to the reader. Events are to be regarded as part
of a reasonable plan which is manifested in them, — a
plan whose apprehension modifies the reader's view of the
present and his forecast of the future. The philosophy of
history is an attempt to read the plan of an intelligent
Providence, — to unravel the plot of the great drama that
has been played throughout the centuries.

Perhaps no historical work fulfills exclusively one of these three
different functions. The narrative and the scenical, or the narrative
and the philosophic, are often combined in a single narration ; while
Macaulay's " History of England," John Richard Green's " A Short
History of the English People," and Motley's " The Rise of the
Dutch Republic," are at once narrative, scenical, and philosophic.

Technic. — The canons of narration (p. 106) apply to
the history. The law of selection enjoins the choice
of such parts of the truth as will, when combined, most
nearly produce the effect of the whole truth, which is
necessarily too comprehensive for presentation. It is
conceivable that the narrator may, by showing nothing
but what in itself is true, convey the grossest falsehood
by his combinations. An outline scrawled in charcoal,
which seizes a few characteristic features of a face, will
give a much stronger idea of it than a bad painting con-
taining many more points of likeness.

History also has its foreground and background ; and
it is in the management of its perspective, in the care-
ful distinction between events of different ranks, that
the narrative artist is revealed, " Some events must be

NARRA TIVES. — THE HIS TOR Y. 367

represented on a large scale, others diminished. The
great majority will be lost in the dimness of the horizon ;
and a general idea of their joint effect will be given by a
few slight touches. In this respect, no writer has ever
equaled Thucydides, a master of the art of gradual dimi-
nution. At times he is concise, at times minute ; but he
never fails to contract and expand in the right place."

For the law of synchronism as it applies to history, the
student is referred to p. in. Relief from the continu-
ous pressure of detail is afforded by the introduction, at
appropriate intervals, of summaries of the particulars nar-
rated. The reader is enabled by this device to keep in
mind, without unduly straining his memory, the principal
steps of the movement, as shown in the retrospect pre-
sented by Motley at the close of the Introduction to his
history of " The Rise of the Dutch Republic : " —

" Thus, in this rapid sketch of the course and development of the Neth-
erland nation during sixteen centuries, we have seen it ever marked by one
prevailing characteristic, one master passion, — the love of liberty, the instinct
of self-government. Largely compounded of the bravest Teutonic elements,
Batavian and Frisian, the race ever battles to the death with tyranny, organ-
izes extensive revolts in the age of Vespasian, maintains a partial inde-
pendence even against the sagacious dominion of Charlemagne, refuses in
Friesland to accept the papal yoke or feudal chain, and throughout the dark
ages struggles resolutely toward the light, wresting from a series of petty
sovereigns a gradual and practical recognition of the claims of humanity.
With the advent of the Burgundian family, the power of the Commons has
reached so high a point that it is able to measure itself, undaunted, with the
spirit of arbitrary rule of which that engrossing and tyrannical house is the
embodiment. For more than a century the struggle for freedom, for civic life,
goes on ; Philip the Good, Charles the Bold, Mary's husband Maximilian,
Charles V., in turn, assailing or undermining the bulwarks raised, age after
age, against the despotic principle. The combat is ever renewed. Liberty,
often crushed, rises again and again from her native earth with redoubled
energy. At last, in the sixteenth century, a new and more powerful spirit,
the genius of religious freedom, comes to participate in the great conflict."

368 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

"Abstracts and summaries," said Swift, "have the
same use with burning glasses, — to collect the diffused
rays of wit and learning in authors, and make them point
with warmth and quickness upon the reader's imagination."

The assigning of dates gives each transaction a defi-
nite place, and links it by a vital bond to every other
transaction described. The association of events with the
first year of every century, for instance, will be found of
material aid to the memory. Thus : — -

A. D. 1700. — William III., King of England, and Stadtholder of the
United Provinces. Great advance of literature and science in England ;
Newton at the height of his glory ; Pope, writing verses at the age of twelve,
catches a glimpse of Dryden, then in the last year of his life. Fifty-seventh
year of the reign of Louis XIV. of France. Forty-second year of Aurung-
zebe's reign in Hindostan. Philip V. (House of Anjou) named King of
Spain. Genoa and Venice, republics. Charles XII. defeats Peter the Great
at Narva. Turkish power broken. English and French settlements on the
eastern coast of America. Frenchmen exploring the lower Mississippi.

The Historic Style should be marked by clearness, sim-
plicity, animation, and vigor. The narrator whose style is
dry or lifeless can never hope to gain the favor of his read-
ers. A just idea of what constitutes a good historical style
may be gathered from the following paragraph on the
style of Prescott, from the " North American Review : "

" Mr. Prescott is not a mannerist in style, and does not deal in elaborate
antithetical, nicely balanced periods. His sentences are not cast in the same
artificial mold, nor is there a perpetual recurrence of the same forms of ex-
pression, as in the writings of Johnson or Gibbon ; nor have they that satin-
like gloss for which Robertson is so remarkable. The dignified simplicity
of his style is still farther removed from any thing like pertness, smart-
ness, or affectation ; from tawdry gum flowers of rhetoric, and brass-gilt
ornaments ; from those fantastic tricks with language which bear the same
relation to good writing, that vaulting and tumbling do to walking. It is
perspicuous, flexible, and natural, sometimes betraying a want of high finish,
but always manly, always correct, never feeble, and never inflated. He does

NARRATIVES. — THE HISTORY. 369

not darkly insinuate statements, or leave his reader to infer facts. Indeed, it
may be said of his style, that it has no marked character at all. Without
ever offending the mind or the ear, it has nothing that attracts observation to
it simply as a style. It is a transparent, medium, through which we see the
form and movement of the writer's mind. In this respect, we may compare
it with the manners of a well-bred gentleman, which have nothing so peculiar
as to awaken attention, and which, from their very ease and simplicity, ena-
ble the essential qualities of the understanding and character to be more
clearly discerned."

QUESTIONS.

What are narratives ? How are narratives divided ? Define a
history; an historical sketch; chronicles; annals. State the proper
office of the historian and the qualities required for filling it success-
fully. What does Carlyle say, in "The Diamond Necklace," of the
tendency of historians ? Name the first great essential of an histori-
cal composition, and state its requirements. Show how the discovery
of original documents may overthrow established opinions ; how time
may reverse contemporary or secondhand judgments. Discuss the
condition of truthfulness in history. What is the second essential of
an historical composition? Explain historical interest. Give Macau-
lay's ideal of the historian.

Name the three historical methods. State the function of the
purely narrative form of history ; of the scenical form. Suggest illus-
trations of each. What does the philosophic method attempt? (To
unfold the philosophy which knits the history of one nation to that of
others, and exhibits the whole -under their internal connection as parts
of one process carrying on the great economy of human improvement by
many stages, in many regions, at one and the. same time. — DE QUINCE Y.)
How does the third method regard and treat events ? Define the phi-
losophy of history. What did De Quincey mean by saying, " The
study of history is the study of human nature'1? State the canons of
narration. With what peculiar force does the law of selection apply
to the history? Describe historical perspective. State the law of
synchronism. Explain the value of summaries ; of dates. Character-
ize the historic style ; the style of Prescott.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

CRITICISM OF A HISTORY. — The critic should observe first by
what arts the historian makes his narrative simple and perspicuous, —
whether he follows the order of events ; where, and with what justifica-

QUACK. RHET. —24

37O STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

tion, he departs from that order ; what provision he makes for keeping
distinct in our minds the several concurring streams of events in com-
plicated transactions ; how he shifts his scenes ; what skill he shows in
the construction of summaries ; and other minor points. His skill in
explaining events by general principles, and in deducing general les-
sons, forms a separate consideration. And still another consideration
is his scenical and dramatic skill, his word painting, plot arrangement,
and other points of artistic treatment.

With these points in mind, and assuming the canons of narration
(p. 106), write a criticism on the first volume of Gibbon's " History ol
the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire ; " of John Bach Mac-
Master's " History of the People of the United States ; " Parkman's
" Discovery of the Great West;" Dr. R. S. Maitland's "The Dark
Ages;" Carlyle's "History of Frederick the Great;" or Froude's
" The English in Ireland in the Eighteenth Century." State whether
the work selected is written in the intellectual, literary, or popular style.

Assuming that Macaulay's " History of England " is a perfect rep-
resentative of narration, induce from it the canons of historical compo-
sition. (As the student is familiar with the canons, the difficulty of
such work will be much less than it seems.)

Write an essay on the scenical method as exhibited in Prescott's
"The History of the Conquest of Mexico;1' on the philosophic
method of Hallam's " Constitutional History of England."

Write an historical sketch of the Chinese-Japanese War of 1894-
95 ; of the Venezuelan Boundary Dispute, 1895-96.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Seth and Haldane's "Essays in Philosophical Criticism;" Dal-
las's "Gay Science," vol. i. ; Carlyle's "The Diamond Necklace;"
Macaulay's essay on history; Flint's " History of the Philosophy of
History ; " Hegel's " Philosophy of History."

As models of narrative composition, other than those already
named, read, in Rawlinson's translation, the nine books of Herodotus,
the earliest and among the best of romantic historians ; as an illustra-
tion of a minute, entertaining, and trustworthy narrative, the " History
of the Jewish War," by Josephus ; and for interest of style, Rawlinson's
" Great Monarchies of the Ancient Eastern World," and Lacroix's
histories of the arts, manners, etc., of the Middle Ages.

THE BIOGRAPHY.

LESSON xxxm.

THE BIOGRAPHY. -THE OBITUARY. -MEMOIRS, JOURNALS, AND
DIARIES. —ANECDOTES. — TRAVELS AND VOYAGES.

If an individual is really of consequence enough to have his life and character
recorded for public remembrance, we have always been of opinion that the public
ought to be made acquainted with all the inward springs and relations of his charac-
ter. How did the world and man's life, from his particular position, represent them-
selves to his mind ? What, and how produced, was the effect of society on him ;
what, and how produced, was his effect on society? — CARLYLE.

In the hands of a writer of penetration, anecdotes, even should they be familiar
to us, are susceptible of deductions and inferences which become novel and impor-
tant truths. I have often found the anecdotes of an author more interesting than
his works. — D'IsRAELi.

Biography is Life-Writing. Biographies are the his-
tories of the lives of particular persons. As such, they
constitute a very essential part of history, which, without
brilliant portraitures of the men and women who have
impressed society, would be a lifeless record. Hence
Biography has been called the Soul of History.

A biography may be practically the history itself of the
period in which its subject lived ; for, in dealing with an
individual life, the biographer must necessarily touch upon
general incidents, prevailing opinions, and contemporary
literature. Carlyle declared that the best history of the
Civil War in England would be a life of Cromwell, its
chief actor ; certainly Professor Masson's " Life of John
Milton " is by far the most comprehensive account of the
Commonwealth in existence.

Biographical Methods and Technic. — A biography may
be told either in the author's own language, or largely in

3/2 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

the subject's words as derived from letters, journals, or re-
membered conversations. What has been said in regard
to the technic and style of the history applies in a great
measure to the biography. The narrator who presents
the experience of a life for the instruction of mankind
must chronicle only absolute truth. His position is one
^of vast responsibility ; for the character and the career
he delineates permanently influence public opinion. To
convey an erroneous impression is therefore immoral in
the highest degree.

Moreover, the biographer must gratify existing inter-
est in the subject of his history. A bare record of facts
will hardly fulfill this requisite. The " stiff -starched and
hollow biographies, with a skin of delusively painted wax-
work, inwardly empty, or full of rags and bran," have no
longer a circle of readers. Not only natural, mental, and
moral constitution, but environment, physical and social,
is regarded as necessary in the portraiture of a life :
" how did coexisting circumstances modify the person de-
scribed from without, and how did he modify these from
within ? With what endeavors and what efficacy did he
rule over them, with what resistance and what suffering
sink under them ? " Thus only is a correct estimate of
character reached.

Finally, a biography must not be superficial. A life
that is worth writing at all is worth writing thoroughly.
Many biographers of literary men have complained of a
dearth of incidents in the lives of their subjects; but
Longfellow in " Hyperion " has exposed the fallacy of
this position : " There are events that do not scar the
forehead of the world as battles, but change it not the
less. A successful book is as great an event as a suc-
cessful campaign."

THE BIOGRAPHY. 373

All we positively know of the character and doings of the greatest
man in the whole range of literary history, is that he was born at Strat-
ford-upon-Avon, married and had children there or in the immediate
vicinity, went to London, where he began as an actor and wrote poems
and plays, returned to Stratford, made his will, died there in 1616,
and was buried in front of the altar rails in *Holy Trinity Church.
Yet each of this man's master works, representing the greatest heights
to which dramatic power has ever climbed, is an event farther reach-
ing in its influence over human feeling, for human good, than all the
victories of modern times.

Plutarch's " Parallel Lives," a series in which the
careers of distinguished Greeks are critically contrasted
with those of equally illustrious Romans, records " the
greatest characters and most admirable actions of the hu-
man race." Shakespeare, Montaigne, Franklin, Webster,
Emerson, constantly turned to this collection of literary
portraits. The stories are told in the author's words ;
and as they are still universally admired, an extract
may be taken from the comparison of Demosthenes and
Cicero to illustrate this form of biography : —

" Omitting an exact comparison of their respective faculties in speaking,
yet thus much seems fit to be said : that Demosthenes, to make himself a
master in rhetoric, applied all the faculties he had, natural or acquired, wholly
that way ; that he far surpassed in force and strength of eloquence all his
contemporaries in political and judicial speaking, in grandeur and majesty all
the panegyrical orators, and in accuracy and science all the logicians and
rhetoricians of his day : that Cicero was highly educated, and by his diligent
study became a most accomplished general scholar in all these branches,
having left behind him numerous philosophical treatises of his own on Aca-
demic principles ; as, indeed, even in his written speeches, both political and
judicial, we see him continually trying to show his learning by the way.

" One may discover the different temper of each of them in their speeches.
For the oratory of Demosthenes was without any embellishment or jesting,
wholly composed for real effect and seriousness ; not smelling of the lamp, as
Pytheas scoffingly said, but of the temperance, thoughtfulness, austerity, and
grave earnestness, of his temper. Whereas Cicero's fondness for mockery

3/4 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

often ran him into scurrility ; and in his love of laughing away serious argu-
ments in judicial cases by jests and facetious remarks, with a view to the
advantage of his clients, he paid too little regard to what was decent, saying,
for example, in his defense of Cselius, that he had done no absurd thing in
indulging himself so freely in pleasures, it being a kind of madness not to'
enjoy the things we possess, especially since the most eminent philosophers
have asserted pleasure to be the chief good. So also we are told that when
Cicero, being consul, undertook the defense of Murena against Cato's prose-
cution, by way of bantering Cato, he made a long series of jokes upon the
absurd paradoxes, as they are called, of the Stoic sect ; so that, a loud laugh
passing from the crowd to the judges, Cato, with a quiet smile, said to those
who sat next him, ' My friends, what an amusing consul we have ! '

" Cicero was by natural temper very much disposed to mirth and pleas-
antry, and always appeared with a smiling and serene countenance. But
Demosthenes had constant care and thoughtfulness in his look, and a serious
anxiety, which he seldom, if ever, laid aside ; and therefore he was accounted
by his enemies, as he himself confessed, morose and ill-mannered.

"It is very evident, also, from their several writings, that Demosthenes
never touched upon his own praises but decently and without offense when
there was need of it, and for some weightier end, but upon other occasions
modestly and sparingly. But Cicero's immeasurable boasting of himself in
his orations argues him guilty of an uncontrollable appetite for distinction, his
cry being evermore that arms should give place to the gown, and the soldier's
laurel to the tongue. And at last we find him extolling not only his deeds
and actions, but his orations also, as well those that were only spoken as
those that were published ; as if he were engaged in a boyish trial of skill,
who should speak best, with the rhetoricians Isocrates and Anaximenes, not
as one who could claim the task to guide and instruct the Roman nation, the
" ' Soldier full-armed, terrific to the foe.'

" Moreover, the banishment of Demosthenes was infamous, upon convic-
tion for bribery ; Cicero's very honorable, for ridding his country of a set of
villains. Therefore when Demosthenes fled his country, no man regarded it ;
for Cicero's sake, the Senate changed their habit and put on mourning, and
would not be persuaded to make any act before Cicero's return was decreed.

" Cicero, however, passed his exile idly in Macedonia. But the very exile
of Demosthenes made up a great part of the services he did for his country ;
for he went through the cities of Greece, and everywhere, as we have said,
joined in the conflict on behalf of the Grecians, driving out the Macedonian
ambassadors, and approving himself a much better citizen than Themistocles
and Alcibiades did in the like fortune. After his return, he again devoted
himself to the same public service, and continued firm in his opposition to

THE BIOGRAPHY. 375

Antipater and the Macedonians. Whereas Lselius reproached Cicero in the
Senate for sitting silent when Caesar, a beardless youth, asked leave to come
forward, contrary to the law, as a candidate for the consulship ; and Brutus,
in his epistles, charges him with nursing and rearing a greater and more
heavy tyranny than that they had removed.

" Finally, Cicero's death excites our pity ; fonan old man to be misera-
bly carried up and down by his servants, flying and hiding himself from that
death which was, in the course of nature, so near at hand — and yet at last to
be murdered. Demosthenes, though he seemed at first a little to supplicate,
yet, by his preparing and keeping the poison by him, demands our admira-
tion ; and still more admirable was his using it. When the temple of the god
no longer afforded him a sanctuary, he took refuge at a mightier altar, freeing
himself from arms and soldiers, and laughing to scorn the cruelty of Antip-
ater." [Whereas Plutarch was a believer in immortality, and figured as a
moralist, he here distinctly approves suicide, which from a Christian stand-
point is cowardly and wholly unjustifiable.]

Froude's " Reminiscences of Carlyle " is a modern
example of personal biography. Carlyle imposed upon the
author the task of discriminating among his letters, with
discretion to destroy the whole or any part. These letters
were numbered by the thousand, and included such as had
been received by Carlyle himself from distinguished cor-
respondents, as well as those that embodied the frank
expression of his mind to relatives and friends. Froude
improved the opportunity to construct a most fascinating
biography. The first chapter, on Thomas Carlyle's father,
James Carlyle, a mason of Ecclefechan (ekkl-fek 'an) in
Annandale ; and the last, on the historian's wife, Jane
Welsh Carlyle, — possess special interest. Boswell's
" The Life of Dr. Samuel Johnson " is the most famous
classic of this type. — The two methods of biographical
construction are frequently combined in a single work.

Autobiography is Self -Portraiture. Egotism is the
tendency here ; but he who writes the history of his own
life must do so without self-praise. To reveal his true

376 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

self, the autobiographer must first know himself, and
this is impossible to an egotist. Vanity is apt to say too
much ; modesty, too little. Gibbon's autobiography, in
which the author inclines to underestimate his endow-
ments and acquirements, is considered a masterpiece in
this department of composition. " It is a record of expe-
riences ; and its value lies, not in the events recorded,
not in the character it describes and reveals, but in the
fact that it is a pure and harmonious picture of an indi-
vidual development."

Cardinal Newman's " Apologia pro Vita Sua," a his-
tory of his religious opinions, is unequaled as a self-
analysis.

An Obituary is a notice of a person's death, accom-
panied with a brief biographical sketch. Obituaries are
generally written by friends of the deceased, in whom,
as in the biographer, there is a natural tendency to ex-
aggerate the abilities and virtues of those whose mem-
ory they would preserve. Such exaggeration fails of its
object. It is readily detected, and in that case not only
loses its effect, but actually offends the reader. In
this, as in every other soecies of narrative, truth should
be the primary object.

Memoirs narrate facts that are the results of personal
observation. Such informal recollections, when pieced
together, may constitute a biography, or furnish inter-
esting glimpses of the men and manners of a circle
or period. Genuine memoirs deal in personalities, not
names. Candor is their great charm.

The following paragraphs are quoted, in illustration of
this form of narrative, from the oldest memoirs in exist-
ence, and from the most recent : —

MEMOIRS. 377

FROM THE "MEMOIRS OF PRINCE SANEHA" (2000 B.C.).

Prince Saneha, having conspired against the Pharaoh, Amenemhat I.,
was forced to fly from Egypt, and take sanctuary among the Bedouins. His
Memoirs, recently translated by Dr. F. C. H. Wendel, present interesting
pictures of his Arab life. Saneha tells us how, on reaching the isthmus, he
concealed himself from the soldiers stationed in the Egyptian forts. "Then
I hid in the bushes for fear the sentinels on the wall would see me. In the
night I went on, and reached the land of Peten by daybreak. As I ap-
proached Lake Qemwer, thirst came upon me, and my throat was parched ;
so I said, ' This is a foretaste of death.' Suddenly my heart took new
courage, and I arose — I had heard the lowing of a herd. I saw a Bedouin.
He gave me water, and cooked milk for me."

Then Saneha proceeds to relate how he made his way into Syria, and
was protected by the king, who gave him the hand of a daughter in mar-
riage; for the prince had heard who Saneha was, and "all his prowess,"
from Egyptians dwelling at the court. " He let me choose a tract from the
finest lands on the border of another country. This was the beautiful district
of Aaa ; there grow in it figs and grapes ; it has much wine, and is rich in
honey ; abundant are its olives ; and all kinds of fruits grow on its trees.
Wheat and barley mature there, and herds unnumbered find pasturage. And
yet greater grace he showed me in making me sheik of a tribe. Every people
against which I went, I conquered, and drove away from its pastures and
wells. I stampeded its herds, enslaved its children, plundered its stores, and
killed the people with my sword, my bow, and my wise plans." Saneha
was eventually pardoned by his sovereign, and returned to Egypt to publish
his Memoirs.

FROM GOODWIN'S "SKETCHES AND IMPRESSIONS."
BY R. OSGOOD MASON, M.D.

James W. Wallack (Sen.) is well remembered by the last generation of
theater goers as one of the most popular and cultivated actors ever seen on
the American stage.

I remember him in London from boyhood" (he was only five years my
senior) as a member of the regular company at Drury Lane Theater, where
he played with Kean, and was also stage manager when Stephen Price was
lessee. Price was also at the same time lessee of the old Park Theater, long
known as " Old Drury," in New York. Wallack was one of the handsom-
est men, both in form and feature, that ever graced the stage. His personal
appearance alone was sufficient to secure him an audience, independent of his
great talent and ability. In versatility, power artistically to represent a

378 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

wide range of characters, I doubt if he has ever been equaled ; and his
imitations of John Kemble, Munden, Betty, Mathews, Cooke, Kean, and
Incledon, were all perfection in their way. Like Charles Kemble, he was at
home and excelled in both tragedy and comedy, as well as the intermediate
class of plays.

Besides the principal Shakespearean characters, his Rolla, Rienzi, Don
Csesar de Bazan, Don Felix in " The Wonder," Dick Dashall in " My Aunt,"
and Martin Heywood in "The Rent Day," — all displayed talents of a high
order, and made him always one of the most welcome favorites, both in
England and America.

In 1822, while traveling from New York to Philadelphia, he was severely
injured by the overturning of the stagecoach. He sustained a very serious
fracture of the leg, which kept him from the stage for many months ; and it
was fully expected that he would never be able to resume many of his most
effective and favorite parts. After nearly two years he was again announced
to appear at the old Park Theater. An overwhelming audience assembled to
welcome him, and sympathize with him in his misfortune. He was to appear
in two plays. In the first he hobbled upon the stage in the character of Cap-
tain Bertram, a decrepit old sailor ; and there were audible manifestations of
sorrow and pity at seeing their old favorite so dreadfully crippled. Imagine
the surprise and shouts of delight, when in the second piece, " My Aunt," he
bounded upon the stage as Dick Dashall with all his accustomed grace and
activity.

FROM LINTON'S "THREESCORE AND TEN YEARS."
[Charles Scribner's Sons.]

I had not the same respect for Charles Dickens. For all his genius as
a novelist, I have always thought that his real vocation was as an actor of
low comedy, much as the world might have lost by the change. Warm-
hearted and sentimental, but not unselfish, he was not the gentleman. There
was no grace of manner, no soul of nobility, in him. When he and Wilkie
Collins and Wills [the editor of "Household Words"] went out, taking
Dickens's doctor with them, to eat "the most expensive dinner they could
get," it was an action that marked the Amphitryon of the feast, if not the
others also. It is an unpleasant anecdote ; but it was told me by the doctor
himself, who had to prescribe for all three next day. The doctor's fees, of
course, would be reckoned as part of the expensiveness of the dinner. Other
things I knew of Dickens make me rate him as far inferior as a man (indeed,
I would also place him as a writer) to Thackeray.

The next time I was in Concord, of course I called [on the Emersons].
The family were all away. I offered my card to the Irish servant. " And

JOURNALS AND DIARIES. 379

what will I be doing with this?" she asked as she looked at it. I said.
" Give it to Mr. Emerson when he comes home." — "I guess I'll give it to
Miss Ellen." — "I dare say that will do," I rejoined. There was no assump-
tion of style about the Emerson family ; they were simply well-bred, cul-
tured gentlefolk, not fashionable people. In his later days, Emerson's voice
failed him for lecturing, and still later and more entirely his memory of
words. His hesitation for the right word had to be met by guesses. At
Longfellow's grave, having to speak of him, very touching was the failure —
" Our dear friend, whose name at this moment I cannot recall."

The Comtesse de Re"musat's " Me"moires," on the
court of Napoleon, are the best in French. The personal
recollections of John Aubrey tell us much of Shakespeare
and his contemporaries.

Journals and Diaries are daily records of events occur-
ring within the experience or under the observation of
the persons who chronicle them. The art of keeping an
interesting journal requires special qualifications ; so that
it has been said of the journalist, as of the poet, " He is
born, not made." Some of the best journals have been
written by women, who find in this form of narrative
composition an acceptable outlet for their feelings and
confidences. The Diary of Madame d'Arblay, who has
been called "the cream of the diarists and memoir writ-
ers," is a work of absorbing interest.

Pepys and Evelyn are famous diarists of the seven-
teenth century. Pepys seems to have been possessed of
" the most extraordinary activity and the most insatiable
and miscellaneous curiosity that ever prompted the re-
searches, or supplied the pen, of a daily chronicler." His
gossiping Diary is a most valuable memorial of the domes-
tic life of his time, giving us details of the plays, concerts,
processions, fires, banquets, weddings, christenings, merry-
makings, school examinations, court scandals, fashions, etc.

380 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

An Anecdote (literally, something unpublished} is a
short narrative of a particular or detached incident con-
nected with the career of some person. It is really his-
tory in its simplest form ; and to be successful, it must be
artistically and simply told. Thus : —

ANECDOTE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

Long after the victories of Washington over the French and English had
made his name familiar to all Europe, Dr. Franklin chanced to dine with the
English and French ambassadors ; when, as nearly as the precise words can

be recollected, the following toasts were drunk : —

,
"ENGLAND — The Sun, whose bright beams enlighten and fructify the

remotest corners of the earth."

The French ambassador, filled with national pride, but too polite to dis-
pute the previous toast, drank the following: —

" FRANCE — The Moon, whose mild, steady, and cheering rays are the
delight of all nations, consoling them in darkness, and making their dreari-
ness beautiful."

Dr. Franklin then arose, and with his usual dignified simplicity said, —

"GEORGE WASHINGTON — The Joshua who commanded the Sun and
Moon to stand still, and they obeyed him."

Anecdotes and personal incidents are the life both of
biography and history, as they give peculiarly vivid views
of character and manners. The charming stories that are
ingrafted on the narrative of the world's life have been
the delight of generations, teaching more, and remembered
longer, than the bare record itself.

Travels constitute another kind of narrative. They
may be defined as an account of incidents that have hap-
pened, and observations that have been made, during a
journey ; and they form one of the most entertaining and
popular departments of literature.

While narration constitutes the basis of a book of travels, descrip-
tion is also necessarily introduced. Keen powers of observation are

VOYAGES. 381

essential to the writer. His style should be varied to suit the different
objects and incidents he is called on successively to describe, — orna-
mented or simple, sublime or sparkling with humor, as occasion may
require. To awaken interest in his readers, he should select new and
important subjects only, and exhibit them in their most striking lights.
As illustrations of this department of narration, consult Orton's
"Andes and Amazon," Paul Marcoy's "Travels," Kennan's "Tent
Life in Siberia," and Leyland's " A Holiday in South Africa."

Voyages resemble travels in every respect, except that
the incidents they relate are such as have happened in the
course of passages by water from country to country, or
during brief periods of sojourn in the lands visited.

Typical works of this class are those of Dr. Kane, Dr. Hayes,
Captain James Cook, Lieutenant Greely, and Mrs. Peary; Norden-
skjb'ld's " The Voyage of the Vega;" Melville's romantic " Typee."

QUESTIONS.

Define biography, and state its relation to history. In Carlyle's
opinion, what would be the best history of the English Civil War ?
Characterize Professor Masson's " Life of John Milton." Describe
two biographical methods. State the importance of truth ; of inter-
est ; of environment ; of mental and moral constitution. What is the
force of Othello's saying, " Speak of me as I am"? How would you
regard misrepresentation in the case of the dead? (As cowardly and
unpardonable.') It has been remarked that the departed no longer
have privacy ; their hearts, like their desks and drawers, are ran-
sacked. And Andrew Lang adds in his "Epistle to Pope:" —

"And if one rag of character they [the commentators] spare,
Comes the biographer, and strips it bare."

Can a good biography be cursory? What says Longfellow with
reference to the biographies of literary men ? Illustrate in the case of
Shakespeare. Describe Plutarch's "Parallels;" Froude's " Reminis-
cences of Carlyle." What method of construction does each illustrate?
Define autobiography, and explain the tendency of the autobiographer.

382 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

Discriminate between the self of egotism and the self of self-knowl-
edge. How does vanity err? modesty? Characterize Gibbon's auto-
biography and Newman's apology.

Define the obituary, stating the essentials of this kind of narrative.
What do memoirs narrate? What may they constitute? Name their
true subjects; their chief charm. What are journals and diaries?
Mention some noted diarists, and state the subjects of their daily
records. Why have women peculiar qualifications for this form of
narrative composition? What is an anecdote? What relation do
anecdotes bear to history ? Define travels ; voyages. What style is
appropriate to each ? Mention any books of travels or voyages.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Criticise, from all positions, the following characterization of
Warren Hastings, by Lord Macaulay : —

"With all his faults, — and they were neither few nor small, — only one
cemetery was worthy to contain his remains. In that temple of silence and
reconciliation where the enmities of twenty generations lie buried, in the
Great Abbey which has during many ages afforded a quiet resting place
to those whose minds and bodies have been shattered by the contentions of
the Great Hall, the dust of the illustrious accused should have mingled with
the dust of the illustrious accusers. This was not to be. Yet the place of
interment was not ill chosen. Behind the chancel of the parish church of
Daylesford, in earth which already held the bones of many chiefs of the
house of Hastings, was laid the coffin of the greatest man who has ever borne
that ancient and widely extended name. On that very spot probably, four-
score years before, the little Warren, meanly clad and scantily fed, had played
with the children of plowmen. Even then his young mind had revolved
plans which might be called romantic. Yet, however romantic, it is not
likely that they had been so strange as the truth. Not only had the poor
orphan retrieved the fallen fortunes of his line. Not only had he repur-
chased the old lands, and rebuilt the old dwelling. He had preserved and
extended an empire. He had founded a polity. He had administered gov-
ernment and war with more than the capacity of Richelieu. He had patron-
ized learning with the judicious liberality of Cosmo. He had been attacked
by the most formidable combination of enemies that ever sought the destruc-
tion of a single victim; and over that combination, after a struggle of ten
years, he had triumphed. He had at length gone down to his grave in the
fullness of age, in peace, after so many troubles.; in honor, after so much
obloquy.

CRITICISM. 383

"Those who look on his character without favor or malevolence will
pronounce, that in the two great elements of all social virtue, — in respect
for the rights of others and in sympathy for the sufferings of others, — he
was deficient. His principles were somewhat lax. His heart was somewhat
hard. But, while we cannot with truth describe him either as a righteous or
as a merciful ruler, we cannot regard without admiration the amplitude and fer-
tility of his intellect ; his rare talents for command, for administration, and
for controversy ; his dauntless courage ; his honorable poverty ; his fervent
zeal for the interests of the state ; his noble equanimity, tried by both ex-
tremes of fortune, and never disturbed by either."

If possible, secure from some library a copy of the "Memoirs"
of General Grant ; read a portion of it, and write a criticism on the
pages read.

Criticise also the "Memoirs of Constant, First Valet-de-Chambre
to the Emperor" (1895), embodying an account of the private life of
Napoleon, with descriptions of his family and his court, his manner
of dealing with people, his personal appearance and habits.

Look into Boswell's " Life of Johnson," with a view to testing the
force of Macaulay's statement: " Boswell is the first of biographers;
he has no second." Embody the results of your investigation in a
critique, or review of its merits.

Read any one of the biographical works of James Parton, applying
to it the principles of method and technic.

Examine Harriet Martineau's Autobiography, and write out your
opinion of its technic and general interest.

Review John Sherman's " Recollections of Forty Years in the
House, Senate, and Cabinet. An Autobiography." (Refer to " The
Review of Reviews" for December, 1895.)

Keep a diary for a week or a month, presenting the same, at the
end of the time, for criticism before the class.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Carlyle's " Life of John Sterling," his portraits and cj
general ; John Walter Cross's " Life of George
"Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott." On
cism, Dallas's " The Gay Science ; " on the ethics of ttte, art of biogra-
phy, " Contemporary Review," xliv. 76; on autobiograWo^akfomancaf,
" The Manhattan," Hi. 31 1 ; on anecdotes, " London Soo^fy," xlijy.

-?i w •->

384 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

LESSON XXXIV.

FICTION AND THE NOVEL.

Fiction is not nature, it is not character, it is not imagined history ; it is fallacy,
poetic fallacy, pathetic fallacy, a lie if you like, a beautiful lie, a lie that is at once
false and true, — false to fact, true to faith. — HALL CAINE, in the Contemporary
Review.

The perfect novel must be clean and sweet ; for it must tell its tale to all man-
kind,— to saint and sinner, pure and denied, just and unjust. It must have the magic
to fascinate, and the power to hold its reader from first to last. — F. MARION
CRAWFORD.

Fiction is the narration of imaginary incidents. Works
of fiction may be founded on facts, historical events con-
stituting their general basis ; but in such cases the details
— the conversations, characters, and scenes — are largely
the inventions of the author's imagination. As has been
shown (p. 105), description is constantly pressed into ser-
vice to construct settings for the incidents narrated, to
apparel the -characters, and to delineate manners.

Fictions may be prose or verse forms. Mrs. Brown-
ing's " Aurora Leigh " is a metrical novel ; and metrical
romances abound in our literature, from the ballads of
Edward I. to " Marmion " and " Christabel." Metrical
fiction will be discussed in the Lessons on Epic, Lyric,
and Dramatic Poetry.

The Plot of a Fiction, sometimes called the Intrigue, is
the chain of incidents on which the story is founded. A
plot must be natural, or adapted to the subject ; consistent
in all its parts ; happy in its selection of incidents inter-
esting in themselves, and calculated to bring out charac-

FICTION AND THE NOVEL. 38$

ter, or to induce or explain consequences ; and so managed
as to keep the reader in suspense until an unexpected but
probable denouement is reached.

Plots are not always single. As in the history, there may be
closely related concurrent streams of events, which the artistic writer
causes to mingle from time to time in the progress of his story, until
they finally become merged in one at the close. In Dekker1s " Shoe-
maker's Holiday," the main plot is the courtship of Rowland Lacy
(nephew to the Earl of Lincoln) and "fair-cheeked Rose" (the lord
mayor's daughter). But the episode of Jane, wife of Shoemaker
Ralph, almost deceived into marrying a rich London merchant who
falsely reports the death of her husband, is so touching as for a time
to overshadow the interest of the main plot. Beside chaste Jane, the
heroine in chief pales. At the crisis, the interwoven plots satisfactorily
blend.

Portraiture of Character. — A work of fiction not only
narrates an action, but also delineates character. Next to
a good plot, nothing is more necessary to success than
striking and lifelike character portraiture. Ben Jonson
portrayed the humors or eccentricities of his contempo-
raries, which were carefully studied out and constructed
from keen observation developed by a long period of
exercise at Smithfield and among the wherries of the
Thames. His wonderful truthfulness to nature has been
styled a "heavy-handed realism." But whether it be the
knavish servant that is personated, or the unprincipled
young master, or the swaggerer, or the simpleton, or the
jealous husband — whatever a given character says or
does invariably harmonizes with the humor assigned by
the dramatist. Individual peculiarities of disposition and
manners are always carried out.

In plots like Sir Walter Scott's, that are unfolded

QUACK. RHET. — 25

386 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

largely by dialogue, the conversations of the different per-
sonages are skillfully made to exhibit their characters.
George Eliot, on the other hand, depends chiefly on nar-
rative effects.

The Legitimate End of Fiction is threefold, — to please,
to instruct, to ennoble. Much of it has no higher object
in view than mere entertainment ; but, in the hands of
judicious writers who feel the responsibility of their call-
ing, fiction becomes an important instrument of good. It
furnishes one of the most popular channels for conveying
instruction as to the usages, fashions, laws, creeds, and
characters, of a period ; for affording insight into human
nature ; for showing the errors into which men are
betrayed by their passions ; for rendering virtue attract-
ive and vice odious, and thus influencing to good con-
duct. " Lessons of wisdom," wrote Sterne, " have never
such power over us as when they are wrought into the
heart through the groundwork of a story which engages
the passions."

It must be observed, however, that, while fiction may be an effect-
ive vehicle of ethical instruction, it is no less powerful an agent of evil
when diverted from its proper use, and made to teach a false moral, or
pander to the baser appetites. Says W. D. Howells : " If a novel
flatters the passions, and exalts them above the principles, it is poi-
sonous ; it may not kill, but it will certainly injure ; and this test will
alone exclude an entire class of fiction, of which eminent examples will
occur to all. Then the whole spawn of so-called unmoral romances,
which imagine a world where the sins of sense are unvisited by the
penalties following, swift or slow, but inexorably sure, in the real
world, are deadly poison: these do kill. The novels that merely
tickle our prejudices, and lull our judgment, or that coddle our sensi-
bilities, or pamper our gross appetite for the marvelous, are not so
fatal ; but they are innutritious, and clog the soul with unwholesome
vapors of all kinds."

FICTION AND THE NOVEL. 387

Fiction should teach Truth, should be loyal to the
motives and impulses that sway men and women ; but let
it present such aspects of truth as are moral. Fiction,
like all art, has its limitations. Much of the material
which we would exclude for moral reasons should be
excluded for aesthetic reasons. The true artist respects
the reserves of nature. When realistic novelists like
Zola, in order to produce a sensation, parade material
gathered in the cesspools of vice, we ask, aesthetically
pained, whether all the beauty in the world has been
exhausted that our imaginations must be fed with the dis-
gusting. Many things in life that are true — too true —
are excluded from art for art's sake. " Fiction," said
Joubert, "has no business to exist unless it is more beau-
tiful than reality. The monstrosities of fiction found in
the booksellers' shops have no place in literature, because
in literature the one aim of art is the beautiful. Once
lose sight of that, and you have the mere frightful reality."

Classification. — The principal forms in which fiction
appears are Novels and Tales. Tales are short, and have
little depth of plot. Stories are narrations, either true or
fictitious. Dialogues like those of Plato and Lucian, Lord
Lyttelton's " Dialogues of the Dead," and Landor's " Ima-
ginary Conversations," constitute a form of fiction which
has been used with great success.

In the Dialogues of Plato, Socrates is represented in conversation
with the quibbling Sophists. By cunningly contrived questions, which
seemed to have no bearing on the point at issue, the philosopher led
them on from admission to admission, until they suddenly found
themselves involved in absurdities. This form of reasoning has been
called Socratic. Herder's "Spirit of Hebrew Poetry" is a modern
Socratic dialogue,

388 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

The Novel deals with real life, with the everyday expe-
riences of men and women. It aims also at the delinea-
tion of social manners in the historical period to which
its characters belong. Of all the fields of art, that open
to the novelist is the broadest, admitting every possible
phase of character, and affording the greatest scope for
exciting and holding the interest of the reader by a rapid
succession of events, an involvement of interests, and the
unraveling of intricacies of plot. Skill in the invention
and management of incidents as the machinery of the
story is here a true mark of genius.

The novel addresses a wider circle of readers than
any other form of prose composition. For this reason, as
well as because it is so largely concerned with the recip-
rocal relations of human beings, it shares with the news-
paper the responsibility of being the greatest educator and
character former of the day.

History of the Novel. — The modern novel, which at
its highest Masson regards as a prose epic, represents an
evolution from the narrative poem of the ancient Egyp-
tians and Greeks. It does not begin with Richardson's
chaste Pamela in 1740, nor date from the stories that-
cluster about that elder Pamela " of high thoughts " who
graced the Arcadia of i 590. Its germ, we know, is as old
as the fictions that were composed to entertain the Pha-
raoh of the Exodus and the remoter Egyptian fairy
tales that antedate 2000 B.C. The stepping-stone to the
novel of modern times is found in the Greek romances
of the fourth century of our era ; l in the romances of

1 Notably the touching, pure-toned yEthiopica, which narrates the ad-
ventures of Theag'enes and Charicle'a, ending happily in the modern style ;
the loves of Daphnis and Chloe, ancient types of Paul and Virginia ; and

FICTION AND THE NOVEL. 389

the Arthurian cycle, and in the chansons, fabliaux or
metrical novelettes, and satires, of the age of chivalry.
Later come the outlaw romances, and finally the inimi-
table stories of Chaucer, with their stirring plots, and
portraits of actual beings belonging to real life and no
longer to dreamland, — stories which, however, had little
influence on the development of the novel in England.

During the Elizabethan era, our earliest novelists
arose, drawing their models from old epics, or from French
and Italian storybooks. The " Euphues " of Lyly, the
"Rosalynde" of Lodge, the " Arcadia" of Sir Philip Sid-
ney, the novelettes of Greene, and the realistic stories of
Nash and Dekker, who have been called the true ances-
tors of Defoe, mark the full development of the novel
in the time of Shakespeare. The thread of its progress
from Defoe to Dickens and Thackeray is so obvious as
to need no further tracing here. It began as a narrative
of adventure ; it has become " a study of character."

The Material of the Novel. — The theme of the novel
may be historical or political, philosophical or didactic
(proposing for solution, by means of incident and story,
some problem of human life), descriptive or social, or sen-
timental. These qualifiers suggest the material of which
a novel may be composed, and indicate its relative value.
The historical novels of Scott, Bulwer, Miihlbach, etc.,
give fascinating impressions of the periods pictured ; but
such subtle unions of fact and fiction are never to be
regarded as authoritative. George Eliot, the representa-
tive exponent of the subjective didactic novel, taught

the story of Leucip'pe and Cli'tophon. The Roman stories of Apule'ius
have in like manner influenced modern fiction, some of them being told over
again in the Decameron, Don Quixote, and Gil Bias.

390 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

"the possibility of moral greatness on the part of every
most commonplace man and woman." Hence her novels
are novels with a purpose, — the elevation of the reader.

The function of the descriptive novel, or the true
novel of life and manners, — represented in the works of
Dickens, Thackeray, and Hawthorne, — is to portray char-
acter. Of the frivolous and often morally loose sentimen-
tal novel, Professor Masson remarked, that " no harm will
attend its total and immediate extinction."

The Humorous and the Pathetic have each a place in
fictitious composition. The subjects of humor are the
foibles, caprices, extravagances, and weaknesses, of char-
acter ; it seeks to expose the ludicrous side, so as to
excite laughter. But humor is always genial, kindly,
humane ; never morose, cynical, or uncharitable. It im-
plies a "true conception of the beautiful and the true,
by whose light it surveys and shapes their opposites."

Wit, on the contrary, is brilliant, cutting, scornful ; it
" uses the whip of scorpions and the branding iron, stabs,
stings, tortures, corrodes, undermines." Coleridge sug-
gested the same relation between wit and humor as exists
between imaginative and fanciful poetry. In the one, the
thought or utility predominates ; in the other, the figure
or combination. Haweis characterized humor as the elec-
tric atmosphere, and wit as the flash. Thackeray defined
humor as a mixture of love and wit. Subjectively, accord-
ing to Lord Houghton, "the sense of humor is the just
balance of the faculties of man, the best security against
the pride of knowledge and the conceits of the imagina-
tion." Objectively, in the words of Professor Hunt, its
purpose is " to do good to men by adding to their rational
happiness."

FICTION AND THE NOVEL. 39!

Humor may characterize an entire work, and is often
blended with the pathetic, so that the reader is alternately
provoked to laughter, and moved to tears. In fact, these
two qualities are intensified by being presented in contrast,
as in the novels of Dickens, who is unequaled in this field.

Idealism and Realism. — The novelist may portray
persons and things as they are, or as they ought to be.
Those who picture persons and things as they are, and
whose taste too often leads to the selection of what ought
not to be for representation by their art, are known as
Realists.

The realist exhibits naked truth, regardless of the
superior claims of beauty to those of ugliness in char-
acter, in events, in scenes. To quote the words of the
ultra-realist Zola, he " opens wide windows upon nature
to see everything and to tell it all." He forces upon
the public information of a revolting character, which is
neither sought nor desired. Vasili Verescha'gin repre-
sented on his canvas the harrowing scenes of the battle-
field, painting his pictures literally with tears in his eyes,
but only to give offense to the majority of his critics,
who do not wish to know about such things, faithful
as they may be to the actual.

The idealist treats his subject imaginatively, portrays
a healthful life, avoids whatever is not estimable in char-
acter, always seeking the highest beauty or good, and
hence representing human nature as it might and should
be. If he finds vice prosperous, he does not portray that
prosperity in such colors as to reflect upon the justice
of God ; but he so exposes the moral degradation that ac-
companies it as to fill his readers with abhorrence. Thus
he lifts up the downtrodden ; he encourages the despair-

392 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

ing ; and the world is better for his having written. It
has been said that the realist is an unbeliever in God
or in man, or both ; but that the idealist must be a
believer in God, in man, and in divine justice.

" A good novel," said F. Marion Crawford, " combines romance
and reality in just proportions ; one element need not shut out the
other." And Dr. McCosh described idealism as realism "dressed
and ornamented by the mind out of its own stores." The tendency
at present is toward the romance, which represents the glories of
life as they might be. A romance is a fiction based on incidents
unfamiliar, unreal, improbable, in the course of life at the present day
— on legends or heroic exploits of bygone ages. Its plot may be
characterized by violent changes of scene and fortune ; it may even
verge on the supernatural. Dumas's "Count of Monte Cristo," and
R. L. Stevenson's " Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," are
illustrations of this kind of fiction. The best romances in the English
language are " Ivanhoe " and " Lorna Doone."

The Laws of Construction in the case of the novel are
the general laws of narration (p. 106). The principle of
unity is manifested in a single cause operating through
the various scenes, or in a single effect of many causes
converging to a crisis. The main action should be single,
and all minor actions subordinated to it. The characters
and happenings must conform to the time delineated.
Anachronisms, complicated series of adventures, the un-
due interruption of the narrative by moral reflections and
philosophical speculations, are alike prejudicial to unity.
The novels of Turgenieff are models of unity, and have
been described as perfect marble statues.

The novelist must possess a fertile imagination, keen
powers of observation, and the faculty of insight into
character. It has been said that a man who makes a
mistake in choosing a friend can never be a novelist.

FICTION AND THE NOVEL. 393

The most is to be made of characters and circumstances
by placing them in contrast, as did Hawthorne in the
"Scarlet Letter," "that stern picture with its one tender
group of lines." Industry must be accepted as a condition.
The working out of the ideas that 'suggest themselves
involves earnest thought and honest toil. Indolence, per-
functory work, or disinclination to be governed by the rules
of technic, is fatal to success. Lanier designates technic
as "the rudder of the literary artist." " He who will not
answer to the rudder shall answer to the rocks." Finally,
the writer must have a definite plan, and adhere to it.
" The concentration of the mind on the one thing that has
to be done, and a proud renunciation of all means of effect
that do not spontaneously connect themselves with it, —
these are the rare qualities that mark the man of genius."

QUESTIONS.

Define fiction. On what may works of fiction be founded? In
such cases, what are the inventions of the authors? Mention some
metrical fictions. Define fully the plot of a fiction. State rules for the
construction of a plot. Explain and illustrate interwoven plots ; por-
traiture of character. In what two ways may plots be unfolded ? What
is the legitimate end of fiction? Show that fiction may be an agent
of evil. Quote W. D. Howells on the influence of different forms of
fiction. What aspects of truth should fiction reveal?

Classify fictions. Describe the Socratic dialogue. With what
does the novel deal, and at what does it aim ? What does it admit,
and what scope does it afford? Characterize its importance as an
educator. Give a brief history of the evolution of the novel. How
varied is the novelist's material? What is humor? May it constitute
the subject of a novel? Discriminate between humor and wit. What
is the connection of humor with pathos? Explain ridicule. {When
there is an ulterior object, and the intention is to excite laughter, accom-
panied with contempt, at the expense of some person, policy, belief,
etc., humor is lost in ridicule. In the words of a German critic:
" Ridicule is like a blow with the fist ; wit, like the prick of a needle ;

394 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

irony, like the sting of a thorn; and humor, the plaster -which heals
all these wounds.'1'') To what is ridicule diametrically opposed ? (To
the pathetic. .) What writer is a master of ridicule and irony ? (Swift, .)

What two things may novelists delineate ? What does the realist
exhibit? In so doing, wherein is his taste often at fault? What is
his obligation to the public ? At what does the idealist aim ? What
does he accomplish? Are all ideals necessarily high? (" Ideals con-
sistent with the conditions of our human nature and our human life, if
they are conformed to physical and moral laws and to the government
and will of God, are ennobling. Ideals false in their theory of life and
happiness, untrue to the conditions of our actual existence, involving
discontent with real life, are the bane of all enjoyment."1' — PRESIDENT
PORTER.) May a good novel combine idealism and realism? State
the present tendency of the novel. What is a romance ? Name the
best romances in English. State the laws of construction for the novel.
How does unity apply? What further must the novelist possess?
Does adherence to technic interfere with spontaneity ?

State the advantages of moderate novel reading. (// inspires and
stimulates the imagination, the proper feeding of which faculty, from
the first dawn of thought, is favored by psychologists. Moreover, some
novels are highly instructive; others attractively teach lessons of purity
and truth.) State the dangers of excessive and indiscriminate novel
reading. (// debilitates all the mental faculties, especially the memory ;
it leads to dreaminess or irritability, and disqualifies for the duties of
everyday life.) How many novels are annually published ? {More than
a thousand.) How large a proportion of the books circulated by our
principal libraries are novels? (About seventy per cent.) What does
this indicate as to the influence of fiction in the community?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Point out the inconsistencies and improbabilities in the plot of
" The Vicar of Wakefield." Test, for probability of plot, Haggard's
" She " or " Allan Quatermain : " Crawford's " The Witch of Prague."

See whether you can discover, and express in writing, the cause of
the popularity of "Jane Eyre ; " of " The Woman in White ; " of " Silas
Marner," " Adam Bede," or " Romola : " of " The Marble Faun ; " of
" The Talisman " or " Kenilworth ; " of " The Last of the Mohicans."

Separate the two stories in " The Merchant of Venice," and show
how the plots are interwoven so as to form a single unified work of
art. Contrast the two distinct stories in Tolstoi's " Anna Karenina."

FICTION AND THE NOVEL. 395

Assuming Thackeray's " Esmond " to be, as it is, a perfect novel,
induce from it canons of method for this form of fiction.

Write an essay on the idealism of " Lorna Doone ; " on the realis-
tic element in " A Modern Instance," in Auerbach's " Auf der Hohe,"
in " Oliver Twist," or in one of Balzac's later novels.

Show how Hall Caine has reproduced a Bible story in "The
Deemster," " The Bondman," " The Scapegoat," or " The Manxman."

Prepare a miscellaneous criticism on " Wuthering Heights," " Pride
and Prejudice," " Hypatia," " Vanity Fair," one of Kipling's stories,
"Lord Ormont and his Aminta." State grounds of objection or
approval ; grasp the plan ; note the character of its execution.

Write an aesthetic judgment of "Robert Elsmere ; " of "Ben
Hur," or of Reade's " The Cloister and the Hearth." Write a moral
judgment of each. See p. 399, on the sophistry in " Robert Elsmere."

Criticise, in accordance with the principles laid down in this lesson,
Blackmore's short story, " Slain by the Doones."

Subjects for original composition : A Short Story to illustrate the
proverb, " Straws show which Way the Wind blows," or any other
saying. — The Autobiography of a Water Drop, of a Copper Penny,
of a Schoolroom, of a Bible. — Adventures in the Adirondacks, or
elsewhere. — An Imaginary Voyage to Hudson Bay, to the Antarctic
Seas. — A Tale embodying any Local Legend or Indian Tradition.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

W. D. Howells's " Criticism and Fiction;" Daniel Greenleaf
Thompson's "The Philosophy of Fiction in Literature;" Walter
Besant's "The Art of Fiction ; " Dunlop's " The History of Fiction ; "
Rowland Smith's "Greek Romances" (translations) ; Lanier's "The
English Novel and its Development ; " Masson's " British Novelists ; "
Jusserand's "The English Novel in the Time of Shakespeare;"
Anthony Trollope's Autobiography (containing the author's views on
the art of writing novels) ; William Forsytes " Novels and Novelists
of the Eighteenth Century." On the criticism of a work of fiction,
Archdeacon Farrar's article in "The Forum" for May, 1890.

" If you wish to know what humor is," said Lowell, " read ' Don
Quixote.'" Refer also to the works "of Hawthorne and Holmes for
chaste, pleasant, graceful humor; to those of Dickens and Thackeray,
for satirical humor. Test the writings of Poe with reference to the
validity of the criticism of Stedman, who spoke of the poet's " grave-
yard humor, which sends a chill down our backs."

396 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

LESSON XXXV.

THE SERMON.

A sermon is a formal religious discourse, founded on the Word of God, and
designed to save men. — DR. HERRICK JOHNSON.

Eloquence has been defined as the art of moving men by speech. Preaching
has this additional quality, that it is the art of moving men from a lower to a higher
level. It is the art of inspiring them toward a nobler manhood. — HENRY WARD
BEECHER.

Not to win admiration for one's own grace or cleverness, not to produce ser-
mons that shall be praised as masterpieces of oratory, should be the aim of one whom
God has called to preach his gospel, but so to preach that the speaker is forgotten
in the fresh views of truth, the new energy for duty, the quickened love for Christ
which his words have aroused. — DR. A. J. UPSON.

The Sermon. — An Oration is a discourse, argumenta-
tive or otherwise, intended for public delivery on some
special occasion, and written in an elevated and ener-
getic style. Orations include speeches of all kinds, and
sermons.

A Sermon is a formal address, usually having for its
subject some text or passage of Scripture, and designed
to convey religious instruction, or persuade to action in
matters of duty. The art which treats of the composition
and delivery of sermons is known as Homiletics (literally,
the art of conversation, implying the familiar tone and
style of early Christian discourses).

Preaching supposes the presentation of Bible truth
to an audience, not for -the sake of that truth, but to
impress it on the hearts and lives of men. Hence the
object of preaching is to ennoble. Well-understood prin-
ciples underlie the art. The canons of argumentation

THE SERMON. 397

apply, for the preacher's object is largely both to con-
vince and to persuade ; the canons of exposition govern
his explanations of truth ; the canons of description
empower him to picture affecting scenes ; the canons
of narration, to present with vividness and force events
of the deepest concern to humanity. Therefore the
preacher should be a master of every process of ampli-
fication and of the rules and principles of style. He
should understand all the aid that rhetoric can give him
in the way of awakening thought and purpose in his
hearers, realizing that sacred eloquence is a moral pro-
cedure, and that Christian teaching, under the guidance
of rhetorical art, accounts for our modern civilization.

The Parts of a Sermon are those already considered
as the formal divisions of a discourse (Lesson VIII.) ;
viz., the Introduction, the Proposition, the Analysis, the
Discussion, and the Conclusion. The rules of technic
there laid down apply here.

The Subject or Text (literally, woven fabric, web, of the
discourse) should involve some great and important ques-
tion that has interest both for the speaker and hearer. It
should not be outre", curious, or obscure ; little can be
made of such texts. In the words of Dr. James W.
Alexander : " The right text is the one which conies of
itself during reading and meditation ; which accompanies
you in walks, goes to bed with you, and rises with you.
On such a text, thoughts swarm and cluster like bees
upon a branch. The sermon ferments for hours and
days ; and at length, after patient waiting and almost
spontaneous working, the subject clarifies itself, and the
true method of treatment presents itself in a shape which
cannot be rejected."

398 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

The Introduction to the Sermon should be neither long,
nor elaborate, nor sensational. It is naturally the place
for the explanation of the text or for the narration of
incidents which are to be touched upon in the body of
the discourse. Allusion may be made to the occasion
of the sermon ; but any reference to the pleasure of
addressing the audience, any affectation of self-contempt,
or admission of unfitness, any such hackneyed prelimi-
naries as, " After a few introductory remarks I shall pro-
ceed to clear up the text," etc., are indications of weak-
ness or conceit.

The Division. — Those who present an analysis, or
statement of their plan, should divide it into a few strik-
ing, comprehensive heads, arranged in climax (p. 124).
"Here," says a French writer, "is a very simple means
of getting a happy division. Try to put into an inter-
rogative form the thoughts which the text raises ; the
sermon and its different heads then become the answer.
By this method the ideas will suggest themselves. Take,
for example, some of the chief texts on death and immor-
tality. Take Gen. ii. 17, 'Thou shalt surely die.' Here
the questions are : Who pronounces this aVful sentence ?
Against whom is it delivered ? Of what kind of death
does it speak ? When will it be executed ? How may it

be escaped ? "

Many eloquent preachers avoid a formal division, but do not for
that reason dispense with an orderly plan. There may be method
that is consciously perceived and felt, although attention be not called
to it formally.

The Discussion is usually of the argumentative type,
its object being to convince of the truth of the text as

THE SERMOtf. 399

explained in the Introduction, and separated in the Divi-
sion. Recourse is had. to arguments inductive and deduct-
ive, to arguments from testimony and analogy, and to
refutation of current fallacies. The order of the argu-
ments used should conform to the principles already
elucidated (pp. 124-126). The Rev. Dr. A. P. Peabody
suggests, in "The Homiletic Review," the following theo-
ries of order : —

" If your sermon is argumentative, give the foremost place to the
strongest arguments. Should you reverse this order, the feebler arguments,
while they will not be sufficient to produce conviction, will indispose those
whom you want to convince to give to the remainder a fair hearing. But if
you convince, or almost convince, them at the outset, what follows will carry
with it cumulative force, and may put on conviction its irrevocable seal.
Thus, for instance, you may have, in behalf of the proposition which you
want to prove, evidence from the very nature and necessity of the case, from
admitted facts or phenomena to which your proposition furnishes the key,
and from testimony or authority. Give first your internal evidence, which in
many cases is equivalent to mathematical demonstration, and in all ethical or
spiritual matters makes the nearest possible approach to demonstration ; then
adduce the facts or phenomena, which your proposition will explain or
account for, but which, save for the internal evidence you have presented,
might have some other explanation, and therefore should have the second
place ; and close by the authority or testimony. If I may refer to that very
illogical book, ' Robert Elsmere,' its sophistry depends on the reversion of
the order that I have specified. It is assumed that Christianity as an histori-
cal religion rests solely on testimony ; while it is in truth its own best evi-
dence, and while it also explains much in the world's history which we know
not how else to explain ; and these two grounds of evidence really sustain the
testimony.

" If, on the other hand, your prime aim is impression on the conscience or
on the emotional nature, upon grounds beyond dispute among Christian peo-
ple, you must employ at the outset your least impressive motives, persuasives,
or stimulants, take a climactic order, rise step by step, and reserve yoiirstrong-
est appeal for the last. In the former case you were building ,raOv edifice of
which the stronger members must support the feebler; in this laUgr case you
are kindling a fire which it should be your endeavor to raise fnpt^ a genial
but modest glow to a white heat." •. fc

4OO STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

If the sermon be expository in its nature, instead of an
isolated text or short passage, large portions of Scripture
are interpreted and explained in the body of the discourse
for the instruction of the congregation. This system, if
pursued, amounts to a continued exposition of the Bible,
or of one of its books, and possesses certain advantages
over the prevailing method of selecting as subjects a sen-
tence here and a word or two there.

It is the office of exposition to clear up difficulties, to
correct erroneous impressions, to afford broad views, — all
of which is agreeable and valuable to any Christian assem-
bly. The more highly educated the preacher, the more
light he will be able to throw on the text of the most
interesting of books. Moreover, he finds in the exposi-
tory method opportunity for the criticism of all phases of
character and the rebuke of all forms of error and sin,
without subjecting himself to the suspicion of singling
out individual members of his congregation for reproof or
censure. Said Henry Ward Beecher, in the " Yale Lec-
tures on Preaching : "

" You may go down to the brook under the willows, and angle for the
trout everybody has been trying to catch, but in vain. You go splashing and
tearing along. Do you think you can catch him in that way ? No, indeed.
You must begin afar off and quietly ; if need be, drawing yourself along on
the grass until you come where, through the quivering leaves, you see the
flash of the sun, and then slowly and gently you throw your line around, so
that the fly on its end falls as light as a gossamer upon the placid surface of
the brook. The trout will think, ' That is not a bait thrown to catch me,
there is nobody there ;' and he rises to the fly, takes it, and you take him.
So there are thousands of persons in the world that you will take if they do
not know that you are after them, but whom you could not touch if they sus-
pected your purpose."

In expository preaching, a particular text with formal
divisions is obviously unnecessary.

THE SERMON. 40 1

The Conclusion is the place to drive home the great
lessons of the discourse, and into it the preacher should
therefore throw his whole soul. He is not to close with a
discouraging array of inferences, showing how his subject
applies in a dozen different lines to the persons addressed.
Such applications are rather to be made during the prog-
ress of the discourse, informally, and without attracting
notice. The conclusion is rather the place for exhortation
and appeal, for persuasion.

Care is to be taken that the conclusion be not pro-
longed, under the influence of emotion, beyond the point
at which the feelings of the audience cease to respond to
those of the speaker. And above all, after an intimation
is thrown out that the discourse is about to close, and the
attention of the listeners is in consequence relaxed, the
effect of still dragging on is destructive of proper impres-
sion by an otherwise meritorious address. " A sermon,"
said Dr. Alexander, " should begin like a river, flow and
widen, and roughen and deepen, until the end ; and when it
reaches the end, it is hurt by every syllable that is added."

The Style of the Sermon. - - The preacher is under
obligation to make things plain, to turn the abstract into
the concrete, the obscure into the luminous and intelligi-
ble ; to gratify the natural desire of his hearers for variety
in his themes, and plans of treatment ; and preeminently
to see that his sermons are the sincere expression of his
convictions. In all this, his personality is to be scrupu-
lously kept in the background ; his listeners are never to
be diverted from the thought of his sermons by peculiari-
ties of style and diction, or by professional manner and
dress. Whatever in the temple of God distracts attention
from God to man and his doings, defeats the object of

QUACK. RHET. — 26

4O2 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

preaching. Simplicity is the greatest compliment the
finite being can pay to the Infinite.

A minister of the gospel should perfect for the service of the Mas-
ter a chaste and dignified prose, graced with pure and appropriate
imagery, straightforward in the expression of its thought, and honest
in its tone. The bald, plebeian, unfeeling manner on the one hand,
and on the other the schoolboy style, ablaze with the cheap dyes
of a factitious rhetoric, through which glares a texture rotten with
ignorance or misrepresentation, are alike disgusting to the refined
worshiper. It is this that is driving intellect from our churches, and
swelling the ranks of agnosticism and infidelity, — this taking the man
out of style, and putting in its place the icicle or the clown ; this
clothing of thoughts inconceivably sublime in language indescribably
belittling ; this affectation of the offensively grotesque in pronuncia-
tion, choice of words, and manner of delivery.

Naturalness and self-forgetfulness unite to make the rule of effect-
ive style and utterance ; and the way to be natural, in the words of
Dr. Upson, is "to get back to nature through the practice of the clas-
sified principles which have been derived from nature."

Illustrations, Comparisons, and Anecdotes, have great
value; but the preacher must be judicious and economi-
cal in their use, regarding them only as the means to an
end. Illustration appeals to auditors who cannot be im-
pressed by abstract truth. On account of " the hard-
ness " of men's hearts, Christ himself had recourse to
parables ; but the imagery of the parable, while perfectly
illustrative, never monopolizes the attention to the ex-
clusion of the idea. Henry Ward Beecher called illus-
tration " the window in an argument ; " it lets in light.
It is also an aid to the memory ; parables, fables, and
allegories, — so many word pictures, — are easily retained.
Illustration further implies acceptable variety, affording
opportunities for resting and entertaining the minds
addressed. The beauty and force of illustration are well

THE SERMON. 403

shown in the following extract from a sermon by Phillips
Brooks : —

" Christmas Day on one side, and Good Friday on the other, limit and
define the active working life of Jesus on the earth. Christinas marks its
beginning, and Good Friday marks its close. Standing on the height of
either of those days, we see that life of Jesus as a whole. Its numerous
details blend in one picture; and in the completeness of the work which
Jesus did we see the wholeness of what Jesus was and is forever.

"The view is not the same from the two points. It is like a landscape
seen first from the mountain of the sunrise, with all the glory and promise of
the morning on it, and seen by and by from the hill of sunset, bathed in the
tender and pathetic richness of the evening. And yet the landscape is the
same, however the color and light on it may differ. The life of Jesus is
the same, whether we anticipate it on the exultant morning of his birth, or
remember it on the calm evening of his crucifixion. It is not possible for us,
with the four Gospels in our hands and hearts, to stand by the manger of
Bethlehem, and not see the cross hovering dimly in the distance of that
opening life; impossible for us to forget that He who is just born is the
same that will be crucified some day."

Length of Sermons. — In regard to the length of a
sermon, no invariable principle can be laid down. The
importance of the theme, the interest of the treatment,
the circumstances of the occasion, and the attitude of the
audience, must determine it. A congregation is neither
to be surfeited nor starved. On general principles, the
length of successive sermons should vary, short discourses
predominating. The audience of the present day craves
a brief method ; clear, crisp statements ; and a uniform
tendency to acceleration.

QUESTIONS.

What is an oration ? a sermon ? homiletics ? preaching ? Of
what value to the preacher are the canons of argumentation ? of ex-
position ? of description ? of narration ? Why should a preacher be
a master of the principles of style ? Define the text. What should
govern its selection ? State the essentials to the introduction of a

404 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

sermon. {Brevity, clearness, deliberation, dignity, adaptedness to text.)
For what is the introduction naturally the place ? Illustrate introduc-
tions that are out of harmony. Define the division, and explain a
simple method of arriving at heads. State the two principles of order
defined by Dr. Peabody. Explain the expository method of preach-
ing, and mention its advantages. Express yourself fully in regard to
the conclusion. What do you understand by " sacred rhetoric "?

What can you say of the style of the sermon ? Describe two
styles that are out of harmony with the high calling of the preacher.
Show that " the knack in style is to write like a human being." What
should govern the length of sermons ? Summarize the essentials of
effective sermon writing.

Should a sermon be read from notes, or delivered extempore?
{Opinions differ. The sermon written to be read is more likely to have
order and literary form ; the discourse prepared for delivery without
notes, to be animated, flowing, and powerful. Had extempore speak-
ing always been the fashion, we should be without those grand collec-
tions of sermons that are the pride of the Church. ~)

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

In the criticism of a sermon, consider whether the arguments
advanced are valid and appropriate, and are arranged in the most
effective order; in descriptive and narrative portions, whether the
observations are suitable and the facts thoroughly substantiaved.
Notice the effect on your own mind of the author's reasoning, expla-
nations, and descriptions. Ascertain whether the style is forcible, or
otherwise. Test the several parts of the discourse by the essentials
that have been discussed under the head of the Introduction, etc.

Apply these rules of criticism to the following outline of a sermon
on the " Inspiration of the Bible,'' by the Rev. A. T. Pierson, D.D.,
quoted from " The Homiletic Review " for March, 1890 : —

" ' Continue them in the things them hast learned and hast been assured
of,' etc. — 2 TIM. iii. 14-17.

"The preeminence of the Word of God is the central thought here.
It claims to be the inspired and infallible Word of God ; and, again, it vindi-
cates that claim as a moral and spiritual power, able to make us wise unto
salvation, perfect, and thoroughly furnished unto all good works.

"i. The claim. All men admit that as a book it stands first. It is
THE book, as Chrysostom termed it. It is inspired. This may be said of

THE SERMON. 405

every good book, or noble work of man, in a sense. ' Paradise Lost ' or
the steam engine came of the inspiration of genius. But this is a ' God-
inbreathed ' inspiration. The figure is taken from that work at creation,
where the bodily form became instinct with life when the breath of the
Creator entered it. This is the Word of the Lord. Into the form of lan-
guage came the breath of inspiration ; and so the .element of infallibility,
distinguishing the Scriptures from all human writings. Some say, ' The
thoughts, but not the words, are inspired;' but we think in words. Words
give precision, definiteness of form and color, to thought. ' Thus saith the
Lord.' We are not sure of the thought till it is spoken, or put into exact
written words. No two words are precisely alike. Enough and sufficient,
paternal and fatherly, are not interchangeable. Burke has well said that
'words are the feet on which a sentence walks.' We cannot take words
out, and introduce others, without marring the original sense. The Word
of God is fixed.

"' This is the Judge that ends the strife
When wit and wisdom fail.'

" It is an authoritative standard. I correct my watch by the jeweler's
chronometer; but he corrects his chronometer by the sun, which for ages has
not varied a fraction of a second. We correct our course by the compass,
and we correct the compass by the polar star. Our conscience, ordinarily,
is a safe guide ; but we need to repair ' to the law and the testimony ' as an
ultimate appeal. 'Thus saith the Lord.'

" If it be objected that the recorded words of Satan are not inspired, we
reply that it is for the veracity of the narrative we argue. The words of the
deceiver are recorded for our warning and instruction. Two verses satisfy
me as to the fact of verbal inspiration. In John x. 35 it is said that ' the
Scriptur^ cannot be broken ; ' and the whole argument turns on the use of one
little word, ' God.' Still more significant is Gal. Hi. 16, where the point is
not a word alone, but the singular or plural of that word : ' Not seeds, as of
many; but as of one, and to thy seed.' These texts seem conclusive evidence
that the words, as well as the thoughts, are inspired. If you do not accept
the Bible as inspired, you really do not accept it at all. I heard of a man
who had for ten years listened to a preacher of the 'higher criticism,' who
from time to time struck out this portion of the Word as uninspired, and that
portion as not trustworthy. The hearer promptly removed book after book
from the Bible till nothing was left but the lids, which he presented to the
preacher as being all that his criticism of the canon had left for his possession.

"2. The vindication of infallible inspiration. The Bible challenges scien-
tific tests. I can say, after thirty years' daily study of the Word in the origi-
nal tongues, that my faith is absolutely unshakable. We have time to examine

406 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

the subject in but two lines. First, prophecy as a scientific test. Here are
canons of judgment just as clear and authoritative as any that guide the chem-
ist in the laboratory, or the anatomist in his dissection of human tissues.
Take these four : no man can tell what he does not know. No man can
know the future, only so far as his sagacity in using his knowledge of the past
enables him to forecast the future, as is the case with weather guesses. A
guess is but a conjecture, a half chance of fulfillment; and, finally, the addi-
tion of details diminishes in geometric ratio the chance of fulfillment. If I say
that the summer is to be hot, the probability of certainty may be represented
by one half. If I add the limiting word ' August,' the probability is one
fourth; and if I say August 15, the fraction is one eighth. The prophecy of
the destruction of Jerusalem has thirty-two details. The fraction one half
must be raised to its thirty-second power to express the fraction of a chance
of fulfillment, on grounds of human calculation. The prophecy of Nineveh
has twenty-seven, and that of Babylon thirty-five, particulars ; minute, alike
yet different, as where the drying up of a river, or the inundation by a river,
is referred to. Every detail in prophecy is matched to its accomplishment.
So with the three hundred and thirty-three particulars concerning Christ.
No one has lost its mate. There could be no contact or collusion; for an
interim of four hundred years of prophetic silence existed between Malachi
and Matthew. From the first promise in the garden, 'The seed of the
woman shall bruise his head,' to the last, — all have been fulfilled. The
family from which Jesus came, the town in which he should be born,
every detail, down to the hour when Mary was shadowed by the sacred
sorrow of her sex, was foretold by divine wisdom alone. It is therefore
impossible that the Bible is not inspired and authoritative. Christ, there-
fore, is divine. We ought to be able to give an answer to those who ask
us a reason for the hope which is within us.

"A king once asked a bishop for a proof of Christianity expressed in
a single word. His answer was ' JEW.' It is a comprehensive and conclu-
sive argument, if we review the facts of prophecy and history. They want to
return to their land. They have money enough to buy it. The one family
of the Rothschilds could buy Palestine ; but the fullness of the Gentiles is
not yet brought in. We have time but to glance at the other point.

" 3. Science and the Bible. I do not claim to be a scientist; but, after
many years of study of science and of revelation, I do affirm that there
is not a single point of conflict as to established facts. Theories of science
conflict among themselves, but real science and the Scriptures exhibit a won-
derful harmony. Who taught Moses geology ? or Jeremiah astronomy ? or
Solomon anatomy ? Other books have blundered; but the cosmogony of
Moses is scientifically correct. Before Galileo's day, men thought that
they had numbered the stars, some 3,330, though the Bible declared that

THE SERMON. 407

they could not be counted. Lord Ross's telescope shows four hundred
million. The Milky Way is a marshaling of worlds incomputable in number.
The picture in Ecclesiastes is a marvelous exhibition of scientific accuracy,
where the brain, the heart, lungs, and nervous system are referred to in the
last chapter as the bowl, wheel, pitcher, and silver cord. So, too, in the kin-
ship of light and sound demonstrated in modern science, we have a plenary
significance given to the passages which describe the' stars singing together,
the heavens telling the glory of God, and day unto day uttering speech.
Though there be no speech, no language, their line goes out through the
earth to the end of the world. They 'vibrate as a chord.' Each star has its
. note. They all sing, —

" ' The hand that made us is divine.'

" This is not poetry, but fact. Sunrise vibrates to sunset. Day speaketh
to day, and night to night. Science and inspiration are in accord. Objectors
make loud assault against the Bible. What threatens to be a shell proves to
be but a paper wad. The truth of God is invincible.

" Finally, everything depends on your personal acceptance of God's
Word. The preacher is not delivering an oration or essay when he stands in
the pulpit ; but as an ambassador of God, as though God spoke, he beseeches
men to be reconciled unto God. My field of labor in my early ministry was in
a hotbed of infidelity. Objections were offered which I never before had met,
and my feet seemed ready to slide. It was plain that I must begin anew the
study of God's Word to know the truth. I urge you to give less time to the
newspaper and novel, and more to the Scriptures. The fruit of such patient
and prayerful study is not only intellectual illumination and satisfaction of
mind, but the creation of 'a perfect man in Christ Jesus.' You are 'thor-
oughly furnished unto all good works.' The carnal life and appetites will
no longer enthrall ; covetousness and pride and selfishness will be subdued;
and your life will be transformed and transfigured by this truth that makes
one wise unto salvation. Hume confessed that he had not been a reader of
the Bible. He confessed also that he could not explain the mystery and
majesty of a true Christian character. In such radiant and commanding
exhibitions of a renewed nature during life, and in the sweet serenity of
the dying believer, are furnished evidences of the power and grace of God
which are inexplicable on any ground whatever."

TEXTS. — "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow1'
{Malt. vi. 28). Growth in the Christian life as slow and mysterious
as the lily's. Consult Drummond's " Natural Law in the Spiritual
World," p. 123. — "Come now, and let us reason together, saith

408 STANDARD PROSE FORMS.

the Lord" (Isa. i. 18). Reason as well as revelation in religion.—
" Many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep " (/ Cor.
xi. 30). Moral disease and moral anaesthesia. — " Till we all come in
the unity of the faith" (Eph. iv. 13). Church unity. — "Righteous-
ness exalteth a nation : but sin is a reproach to any people " (Prov.
xiv. 34). Corruption in the government of American cities.

Write an essay on Practical Preaching, which involves the adap-
tation both of subject and subject matter to the spiritual needs of the
audience. " A sermon equally well adapted to a hundred different
congregations, were such a thing possible, would be a sermon for
nobody." — Professor A. S. Hill.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Dr. Christlieb's "Homiletic;" Fisk's "Manual of Preaching ;"
Dr. Alexander Oliver's "What and How to Preach;" Beecher's,
Brooks's and Simpson's "Yale Lectures on Preaching;" Dr. J. A.
Broadus's "A Treatise on the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons; "
Dr. A. J. Upson's "Rhetorical Training for the Pulpit" ("The
Homiletic Review," Feb. and Mar., 1890); Dr. Shedd's " Homiletics
and Pastoral Theology;" Prof. A. S. Hill's "Our English," p. 141.

For fertility and force of illustration, read the sermons of Joseph
H ill, South, Beecher, and Moody. For characteristic treatment, and
forms of introduction and conclusion, consult the sermons of Chan-
ning, Chalmers, Spurgeon, Havveis, and Talmage ; for ingenuity and-
subtile reasoning, the theological discourses of Jonathan Edwards
(Freedom of the Will) ; for passionate fervor and dramatic power, the
addresses of George Whitefield; for imaginative effects, sweetness,
and piety, those of Jeremy Taylor; for graphic style, " Sermons on
Living Subjects," by Dr. Horace Bushnell ; for natural eloquence,
the "Sermons" of Bishop Matthew Simpson. Turn further to the
discourses of Cardinal Newman, the representative sermon writer of
the Catholic Church in English-speaking lands, and of Cardinals
Wiseman and Manning — masterpieces of religious instruction, apol-
ogy, and defence — refer also to the artistic homilies of Bishop Spal-
ding. As models of pulpit oratory, study the sermons of Phillips
Brooks. His every sentence is pregnant with thought, his every
word a forcible expression of that thought, his theme admits of no
delay, the reader is hurried to each clear conclusion through an avenue
swept of verbal obstacles.

PART VI.

POETRY AND THE PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.—
POETICAL FORMS.

LESSON XXXVI

DEFINITION AND THEORY OF POETRY.

Two things are required of the poet, — that he should rise above reality, and yet
remain within the sphere of the sensuous. — GOETHE.

Poetry is the transfiguration of life, — an imaginative representation in verse or
rhythm of whatever men perceive, feel, think, or do ; and the relative greatness of a
poet depends on the amount of life he has transfigured. — ALFRED AUSTIN.

What is Poetry? — "It seems to me," says Ruskin,
"and may seem to the reader, strange that we should
need to ask the question, What is poetry ? Here is a
word we have been using all our lives, and, I suppose,
with a very distinct idea attached to it ; and yet, when I
am called upon to give a definition of this idea, I find
myself at a pause." l But Ruskin finally reaches the con-
clusion that poetry is "the suggestion by the imagination,
in musical words, of noble grounds for the noble emo-
tions,— love, veneration, admiration, and joy, with their
opposites." That is, these emotions must be felt for noble

1 In John Lyly's comedy, Endimion, Sir Topas is made to remark :
"Dost thou know what a poet is? Why, fool, a poet is as much as one
should say — -a Poet." And Juvenal, in Satire vii. line 70, pronounces the
poet, " whose vein is not that of the common herd," to be "such a one as
I cannot embody in words, and can only feel in my soul."

409

410 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

causes, and the causes or grounds must be invented or
furnished by the imagination ; the mere expression of no-
ble emotion experienced by real persons, not being poetry.

Had there been an Evangeline, and had her career as portrayed
by Longfellow been actual, the story would have been pathetic (beau-
tiful + sad), but not poetical (beautiful + sad + "feigned"). Its
invention by the poet — who enters into the soul of the imagined exiled
woman, and creates a noble ground for her lifelong search — makes it
poetry, and gives it power to awaken in others the poetical feeling.

In like manner, Wordsworth, familiar with the story of the widow
of Penrith, gave voice to her imagined hopes and sorrowings in " The
Affliction of Margaret." Thus, in the following stanzas : —

' ' Seven years, alas ! to have received
No tidings of an only child ;
To have despaired, have hoped, believed,
And been for evermore beguiled ;
Sometimes with thoughts of very bliss !
I catch at them, and then I miss;
Was ever darkness like to this ?

" Perhaps some dungeon hears thee groan,
Maimed, mangled by inhuman men;
Or thou, upon a desert thrown,
Inheritest the lion's den;
Or hast been summoned to the deep,
Thou, thou and all thy mates, to keep
An incommunicable sleep.

"I look for ghosts; but none will force
Their way to me : 'tis falsely said
That there was ever intercourse
Between the living and the dead.
For, surely, then I should have sight
Of him I wait for day and night,
With love and longings infinite."

This power of entering into the imagined feelings of others implies
insight. It is spontaneous or involuntary. NO study of technic can
impart it. It is that in the poet which is born, not made.

DEFINITION AND THEORY OF POETRY. 411

Poetry, then, implies in the first place creation (as its
Greek name poie'sis indicates), invention, insight. Its
proper object is the communication of exalted pleasure ;
and thus it is antithetical to science, whose end is the
acquirement and dissemination of truth. Inasmuch as it
suggests noble grounds for noble emotions, poetry is
always the expression of the beautiful (see pp. 57, 58).

Poetry Concrete in Method and Diction. — Poetry must
further be concrete or specific in its expression. It is the
office of the poet to turn abstractions into concretions ;
that is, to embody universal ideas in concrete images, or,
as Shakespeare described it, to turn into shapes " the
forms of things unknown, and give to airy nothing a
local habitation and a name." Thus the poet Gray, in his
" Elegy," prefers "some Cromwell guiltless of his coun-
try's blood " to " some village dictator," securing energy
by the use of the particular instead of the general.

For this reason, poetry expresses its thought largely
through figures, which, as has been shown, owe their force
in many instances to their concreteness. All abstract
method belongs to prose.

Poetry Rhythmic in Movement. — While prose implies
intellectual and emotional life, poetry requires in addition
rhythmic life.

In the operation of each of our senses, what is actually communi-
cated to the brain is some kind of vibration, the function of such vibra-
tion being to convey through bodily organs to the mind a knowledge
of the external world. This principle has been extended into the realm
of emotional thought by Mr. Stedman, who conceives of poetic vibra-
tions as in like manner thrilling the soul. "The makers of poetry
feed on thoughts that naturally tend to move in rhythmic numbers ;
and, with this inarticulate thought rhythm, we have a verbal rhythm
that is consonant." Stedman, in accord with many critics, contends

412 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

that words are not poetry till they reach a stress that is rhythmical ;
and this agrees with Carlyle's conception of poetry as " musical
thought." A poet must be a versifier.

It is rather in the power of uttering his emotion than
in the ability to feel it, that the poet differs from ordinary
human beings. The majority of men have poetical feeling,
but lack the power of poetical expression. As Wordsworth
taught, —

" Many are the poets that are sown
By Nature ; men endowed with highest gifts,
The vision and the faculty divine ;
Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse."

"The essence of the artist," says Swinburne, "is that
he should be articulate;" the object of all art being ex-
pression. The man who is a poet " born by nature, nurst
by art," will never remain dumb.

Poetry, then, does not really become such until it finds
expression in rhythmical language, in musical words.
Hence a thought may be poetical, and yet not be poetry.

Poetry True and Serious. — To the foregoing requi-
sites, Matthew Arnold, following in the footsteps of Aris-
totle, adds, as tests for the possession of the highest
poetical quality, truth and seriousness. So far, he de-
clares, as high poetic truth and seriousness are wanting
to a poet's matter, so far also will a high poetic stamp of
diction and movement be wanting to his manner. King
Priam's prayer to Achilles for the corpse of Hector (Iliad,
xxiv.) is marked by poetic seriousness : —

" But revere the gods, O Achilles ! and pity me, remembering thy own
father; for I am even more miserable, since I have endured what no other
mortal yet endured, — to carry to my lips the hand of him who slew my son."

DEFINITION AND THEORY OF POETRY. 413

High seriousness is characteristic of Homer, Dante,
Shakespeare, and Milton. It implies spontaneity, absolute
command over passfon, "mind controlling matter, taste
mastering energy."

Truth is sincerity, and is often so beautiful and so
impressive of itself, that one of the greatest proofs of
poetic genius consists in leaving it unadorned. The
author of " Albion's England," in constructing this touch-
ing picture of fair Rosamund in the hands of the implaca-
ble queen, presents truth unembellished : —

" Fair Rosamund, surprised thus, ere thus she did expect,
Fell on her humble knees, and did her fearful hands erect:
She blushed out beauty, whilst the tears did wash her pleasing face,
And begged pardon, meriting no less of common grace.
'So far, forsooth, as in me lay, I did,' quoth she, ' withstand;
But what may not so great a King by means or force command? •
'And dar'st thou, minion,' quoth the Queen, ' thus article to me? '

With that she dashed her on the lips, so dyed double red :

Hard was the heart that gave the blow ; soft were those lips that bled.

Then forced she her to swallow down, prepared for that intent,

A poisoned potion."

This is supremely simple, and true to nature ; yet, at the
same time, it is "feigned history," copied imagination.

Poetic Diction and Style. — As to style, the poet chooses
the fewest and simplest words, and seeks to combine grace-
fulness with energy, avoiding both what is unpleasing and
what is coarse.

Poetic diction is characterized by concreteness ; by
economy, brief words and constructions being preferred ;
by picturesqueness in general, poetical epithets (as in
Thomson's " gemmy shower") being employed for their
picturesque effect, whereas rhetorical epithets must be

414 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

necessary as well as significant ; by out-of-the-common
expressions — the non-colloquial element l — and by archa-
isms ; by melody and the adaptation of sound to the sense.
Modern English — with its strong and comprehensive
Saxon monosyllables, its euphonious classical derivatives,
its wealth of phrases appropriate to the expression of
every feeling and every passion — is a language peculiarly
adapted to the purposes of poetry.

Touchstones. — It will be seen from the foregoing par-
agraphs that there exist certain touchstones, or tests, by
which the quality of any piece of verse may be determined.
In the opinion of Matthew Arnold, " there can be no more
useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to the class
of the truly excellent, and can therefore do us most good,
than to have always in one's mind lines and expressions
of the great masters, and to apply them as touchstones
to other poetry." He who would be a critic in the field of
verse must read the best poets with the closest attention,
and assiduously cultivate that love of beauty which made
them what they are. He who is to merit the name of
poet must be original and creative ; must express his
thoughts in an elevated and graceful style, spontaneously,
concretely, and in metrical language ; and, withal, must be
deeply emotional, true, and serious. This implies genius.

Only in the mind of the born poet, says Grant Allen, " arises the
conception of some touching tale or stirring lyric. Next comes the
spontaneous choice of a meter that harmonizes with the theme. Grad-

1 Worthiest poets

Shun common and plebeian forms of speech,
Every illiberal and affected phrase,
To clothe their matter ; and together tie
Matter and form with art and decency. — CHAPMAN.

DEFINITION AND THEORY OF POETRY. 415

ually he shapes his idea. He selects for every stanza and every line
the choicest words or pictures, -drawn from the inexhaustible stores
of his memory and his imagination, where he has gathered together,
as in a treasure-house, all that is glorious and beautiful in the bound-
less universe or the soul of man. The total result so obtained is an
harmonious work of art — a poem.''

QUESTIONS.

Why is it so difficult to define poetry ? To what is poetry prop-
erly antithetical ? What is poetry according to Ruskin's view? Men-
tion the noble emotions and their opposites. What causes must give
rise to them? Would indignation at being swindled out of a sum of
money be a poetical feeling? Would admiration excited by the bud-
ding of a flower? Is mere noble emotion in itself poetical? Show
that the ground for it must be invented by referring to the tale of
" Evangeline ; " to " The Affliction of Margaret." Does insight find
poetry in the commonplace ? (The commonest things possess a deep
significance; their aspects and semblances fall continuously on the soitl
of the poet, to be transfigured by his genius, and to materialize, as- so
transfigured, in those jewels of verse

"That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time
Sparkle forever.")

How does the poetry in common things differ from mere beauty ? (//
is beauty plus spirituality. .) May poetry in this sense be characteristic
of a picture, of a statue, of the human face ? (Poetical feeling may be
uttered by the Almighty in any of his works ; and it may be projected
by the art of man in visible forms, — like pictures, statues, and tem-
ples, — as well as in rhythmical words and in music.} Explain the
lines of Dr. Holmes : —

" There breathes no being but has some pretense
To that fine instinct called poetic sense."

Show that poetry is concrete in method and diction ; that it is the
office of the poet to turn abstractions into concretions. Why does
poetry largely express its thought by means of figure ? How much
truth does there seem to be in Canon Farrar's statement, " A language
without figure would of necessity be a language without poetry" ? Is
there danger that a poem may have " too much foliage and too little

416 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

solid wood," as was said of Mrs. Hemans ? Why is metrical language
a condition of poetical expression ? Prove that it is in his power of
uttering rather than of feeling his emotion, that the poet differs from
ordinary men. Discriminate between the essence and the expression
of poetry. Discuss truth and seriousness. What does each imply ?
Was Aristotle right in holding poetry to possess a higher truth than
history ? What can you say of poetic diction and style ? Give a sum-
mary of the touchstones by which the quality of any piece of verse
maybe determined. How does Stedman define poetry ? (As '•'•rhyth-
mical, imaginative language, conveying through its vibrations the in-
vention, taste, thought, passion, and insight, of the human soul."}

What is the true aim of poetry? (Not only to yield tlic purest
and noblest intellectual pleasure, but at the same time to exalt morally ;
" to awaken to the divine side of things, to bear witness to the beauty
that clothes the outer world, the nobility that lies hid in human souls ;
to call forth sympathy for downtrodden causes ; and to make men feel,
that, through all outward beauty and all pure inward affection, God
himself is addressing them. In this endeavor, poetry combines its
influences with all those benign tendencies which are working in the
world for the melioration of man and the manifestation of the king-
dom of God.'1"1 — SHAIRP.) What construction, then, will you place
on this statement of Longfellow's in "Hyperion"? — "A delicate
organization renders men of genius keenly susceptible to pain and
pleasure ; and then they idealize everything, and in the moonlight of
fancy, even the deformity of vice seems beautiful." May poetry be
made a means of degrading and depraving? (Not the highest poetry,
which, as the ally of all things pure and lofty, naturally works for
good ; which Goldsmith styled in " The Deserted Village'1'' " /he nurse
of every virtue, first to fly where sensual joys invade."} Said Principal
Shairp : " Poets who do not recognize the highest moral ideal known
to man, do, by that very act, cut themselves off from the highest artis-
tic effect. The Christian standard is the highest. Goethe made light
of it ; Shelley abjured it. Are we on that account to deny that they
rank among the great poets of the world? To this it may be replied :
first, that they could not escape some unconscious influence from the
religion that surrounded them ; secondly, that, had their prejudice
against Christianity been removed, they would have gained hardly
less as poets than as men. For lack of this it is, that there lie hidden
in the human spirit, tones the truest, the most tender, the most pro-
found, which these poets have never elicited."

DEFINITION AND l^HEORY OF POETRY. 417

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

The members of the class, after proper investigation, may state
extemporaneously from notes~ or fully in writing, why Tennyson's " In
Memoriam" is poetry; Arnold's "Thyrsis;" Milton's "Lycidas;"
Mrs. Browning's "Aurora Leigh." The accepted touchstones may
further be applied to " The Knight's Tale" of the Canterbury series.
Is Chaucer lacking in seriousness ? Test " The Clerk's Tale of Patient
Griselda;" Whittier's "Snow-Bound;" Tennyson's "The Lotos-
Eaters" and "The Day-Dream ;" Goldsmith's "The Deserted Vil-
lage ; " Poe's " The Raven ; " Bryant's " Thanatopsis," " The Crowded
Street," "To a Waterfowl" (see Dr. Alden's " Studies in Bryant") ;
Holmes's "Wind Clouds and Star Drifts," " Homesick in Heaven;"
Stoddard's " Hymn to the Sea ; " Campbell's " Gertrude of Wyoming."

When the thoughts of a writer reach that degree of imaginative
pressure at which prose will no longer contain them, nature provides
a remedy by whirling the composer into verse. Can you detect a
principle in Shakespeare's shifting from prose to verse and from verse
to prose in "Twelfth Night," " Romeo and Juliet," or "Hamlet" ?
Prose is especially adapted to the didactic, the practical, the matter of
fact, the stern. Note that it is used in the dialogues of servants and
in light conversation generally. Why does Falstaff always speak in
prose? Why, in " Julius Caesar," does Casca use prose, while Brutus
and Cassius have recourse to verse? Why does scene iii. act i of
" The Merchant of Venice," begin with prose, and rise to verse?

Answer Dr. Walcot's query, " What had Achilles been without
his Homer? " noting the power of verse to perpetuate.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Aristotle's " Poetics ; " Masson's " Theories of Poetry," in " North
British Review," August, 1853; Professor C. C. Everett's "Poetry,
Comedy, and Duty; " Professor A. S. Cook's " Touchstones of Poe-
try" and " The Art of Poetry ; " E. C. Stedman's papers on the " Na-
ture and Elements of Poetry," in "The Century," 1892; Shairp's
" Poetic Interpretation of Nature," " Aspects of Poetry," " The Aim
of Poetry;" Dr. Holmes's "Poetry: A Metrical Essay;" Professor
Dowden on " Poetical Feeling for Nature," "Contemporary Review,"
ii. 535 ; Emerson on " The Poet" and on " Poetry and Imagination ; "
Bailey's " Festus ;" Pater's " Appreciations ;" Alfred Austin's " Prince
Lucifer," p. vii. ; Raymond's " Poetry as a Representative Art."

QUACK. RHET. — 27

418 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

LESSON XXXVII.

VERSIFICATION.

The theory that versification is not an indispensable requisite of a poem seems
to have become nearly obsolete in our time. Artistic treatment determines whether
an imaginative writer is a poet or a writer of prose. Emotion is the basis of all
true poetic expression ; thoughts must be expressed in an emotional manner before
they can be brought into poetry, and this emotive expression demands style and
form. — THEODORE WATTS.

One may be a versifier without poetry. — SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

Versification is the art of expressing thought in verse,
or metrical language. It has been shown that poetical
ideas seek to utter themselves through the medium of
such language. Hence it is incumbent on both the
student and the maker of poetry to understand the prin-
ciples of versification.

Rhythm and Meter. — English verse is characterized
by rhythm, the alternation of tension and relaxation,
involving the regular recurrence of accent, or stress of
voice. A rhythmic succession of words is thus divisible
into distinct pulses or movements, appreciable by the ear ;
these are known as Measures, or Feet. Each foot, or
unit of rhythm, will be found to consist of a group of
two or three syllables, one of which is always accented.
Rhythm has to do with the character of these feet.

Meter implies the arrangement into lines of definite
numbers of feet. The number of feet in a line of verse,
therefore, determines its meter ; the kind of foot em-
ployed, the rhythm.

Rhythm, meter, and other effects of verse, depend,

SCANNING.

419

DISSYLLABIC.

{Adapted to
double move-
ment. )

for the pleasure they convey, on our enjoyment of fitness
or harmony. They are always to be adapted to the
sentiments expressed.

The Principal Feet occurring in English Verse are : —

THE IAMBUS, consisting of an unac-
cented followed by an accented syllable ; as,
to-day.

THE TROCHEE (in Greek, running, trip-
ping), consisting of an accented followed by
an unaccented syllable ; as, twinkle.

THE SPONDEE (from the Greek spondai,
a solemn treaty], consisting of two accented
syllables ; as, downright.

THE DACTYL (from the Greek daktulos,
a finger, which has one long joint and two
short ones), consisting of an accented sylla-
^e f°ll°wed by two unaccented syllables ;
as, tenderly.

THE ANAPEST (struck back), the dactyl
reversed, consisting of two unaccented syl-
lables followed by one that is accented ; as,
Isabelle.

Since, in English poetry, length or quantity depends almost entirely
on accent, it is customary to denote unaccented syllables with a breve
(^), the mark used to indicate a short syllable in Latin ; and accented
syllables, with a ma'cron (— ), which marks long syllables in Latin.
Thus the feet denned above are denoted as follows : —

TRISYLLABIC.

( Triple move-
ment. )

Iambus w — to-day.
Trochee — w twinkle.
Spondee downright.

Dactyl — u u tenderly.
Anapest ^ 0 — Isabelle.

Two short syllables have the same metrical value as one long syllable.

42O PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

Number of Feet. — A line of one measure, or foot, is
designated as Monom'eter (literally, single measure) ; a line
of two feet, as Dim'eter ; of three, as Trim'eter ; of four,
as Tetram'eter ; of five, as Pentam'eter ; of six, as Hex-
am'eter ; of seven, as Heptam'eter ; and of eight, as Oc-
tam'eter.

Lines of verse do not always contain an exact number
of feet. A line at the end of which a syllable is wanting
to complete the meter is said to be Catalectic (leaving
off}. A line in which there is a syllable over is Hyper-
catalectic. A line in which there is neither deficiency nor
redundancy is Acatalectic.

In describing verse, it is customary to take into con-
sideration the kind as well as the number of feet compos-
ing the lines, and to state whether the lines are catalectic,
acatalectic, or hypercatalectic.

Scanning is the separation of a line of verse into the
feet of which it is composed. The line

1_> \J — ^ V_>

" And pure | as gold | forev | er "

is scanned thus : And pure, iambus ; as gold, iambus ;
forev, iambus ; er, foot not completed, or syllable over.
The line is described as an iambic trimeter, hypercatalectic ;
or an iambic tetrameter, catalectic.

Verse Pure and Mixed. — A line consisting wholly
of one kind of foot is said to be Pure. The iambic and
trochaic lines illustrated on the following page in the eight
meters are pure. Verse, however, may be characterized
by a variety in the feet composing the lines. It is then
said to be Mixed. See the anapest-iambic and dactylic
hexameter lines on pp. 425, 426. Such deviation from
the standard foot of the verse is known as a Metrical

IAMBIC METERS.

421

License, as is also the addition or omission of a syllable at
the beginning of a line.

The usual grammatical licenses, — violent inversions, ellipses,
enallages, — Synaeresis (the compression of two syllables into one ;
as, dis-o-bed-yence for dis-o-be-di-ence) and Diaeresis (the separation
of a diphthong into the vowels of which it is composed), are familiar
to the pupil.

Iambic Meters. — Verse in which the characteristic or
predominant foot is the iambus, is known as Iambic. Il-
lustrations of pure iambic lines in eight meters follow: —

Iambic Monometer. Beware.

Iambic Dimeter. 1 dwelt | alone.

Iambic Trimeter. The night | tho1 clear | shall frown.

Iambic Tetrameter. The wa | ter lil | y sleeps | in pride.

Iambic Pentameter. And waste | its sweet | ness on | the des | ert air.

Iambic Hexameter. Thou sov | reign Smile | of God | Eter | nal

with | trium | phant voi | ces sing.

The great body of our English poetry is written in
iambic meters, which are both easy of construction, and
adapted to the expression of every phase of emotion. Of
these meters, the monometer and the dimeter are rarely
continued through whole poems, being better adapted to
the refrains of odes and songs. In the following lines of
Herrick's, iambic monometer is combined with trimeter
and tetrameter : —

422 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

" Fair Daffadils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon ;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon.

Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song ;
And, having pray'd together, we
Will go with you along."

The iambic dimeter also usually occurs in company
with longer lines, as in this passage from Dryden's " Song
for St. Cecilia's Day : "

" With ravished ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres."

The iambic trimeter combines in different ways with
the tetrameter to form the common and the short meter
of our hymns. (The student may select examples from
the Hymnal, and explain the combination in each case.)
Four tetrameter lines constitute long meter. Iambic te-
trameter uncombined may characterize an entire poem, as
in " The Lady of the Lake " and " Marmion." Professor
Conington effectively employed this measure in his trans-
lation of Virgil's "^Eneid." Thus : —

" Arms and the man I sing, who first,
By Fate of Ilian realm amerced,
To fair Italia onward bore,
And landed on Lavinium's shore : —
Long tossing earth and ocean o'er,
By violence of heaven, to sate
Fell Juno's unforgetting hate:

IAMBIC METERS. 423

Much labored too in battlefield,
Striving his city's walls to build,

And give his Gods a home.
Thence come the hardy Latin brood,
The ancient sires of Alba's blood,

And lofty-rampired Rome."

The iambic pentameter constitutes what is known as
the Heroic Line of English poetry. It is characterized by
dignity, and is peculiarly adapted to serious, solemn, and
sublime subjects. Hence Milton employs it in the "Para-
dise Lost ; " Cowper, in " The Task ; " Gray, in his " Elegy ; "
and Pope, in the "Essay on Man." Thus, from the latter

poem : —

— <j — —

" Lo, the poor Indian ! whose untutored mind

— — y —

Sees God in clouds, and hears him in the wind !
His soul proud Science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk, or Milky Way;
Yet simple nature to his hope has given,
Behind the cloud-topped hill, an humbler heaven."

The trochee at the beginning of the first heroic line above, fol-
lowed by the spondee in the second place, has peculiar beauty. The
spondee in the first place in the second line both fixes the attention,
and imparts dignity. The fifth line is pure.

The line of six iambuses is called the Alexandrine —
it is believed from certain French poems on the life of
Alexander the Great written in this meter. Pope illus-
trates the effect of the Alexandrine in the following lines,
often quoted to show the adaptation of sound to sense : —

" A needless Alexandrine ends the song,
That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along."

Drayton's gazetteer in verse, the " Polyolbion," was
written in tedious Alexandrine couplets, which largely
accounts for the unpopularity of a work characterized by

424 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

a pleasing variety of style and subject, and an exceptional
wealth of research.

It is the usual practice to divide the iambic heptam-
eter into alternate tetrameter and trimeter lines ; and the
octameter, into two tetrameter lines.

Trochaic Meters are appropriate to the expression of
both sprightly and tender sentiments. They are lively and
cheerful, while the iambic rhythm has a more stately and
serious flow. Illustrations follow : —

Trochaic Manometer. Splashing.
Trochaic Dimeter. Prithee | Cupid.
Trochaic Trimeter. See the | rivers | flowing.

— VJ — O — W —

Trochaic Tetrameter. Where the | hawthorn | blooms the | sweet-

est.

— >_< —

Trochaic Pentameter. Mountain | winds oh | whither | do ye I call

V-l

me?

— <^> — o — >_> — o _^,
Trochaic Hexameter. Holy | holy | holy | though the | darkness I

— w
hide thee.

— w — w — u — o

Trochaic Heptameter. Change the | nest where | in thy | wings are I

— VJ — O — VJ

fledged for | flight by | morning.

— ^ — \J — VJ — U —

Trochaic Octameter. Once up | on a | midnight I dreary | while

*-> - <~< - U - VJ

I I pondered | weak and | weary.

In " Rosamond," Addison describes the shifting modes
of love in trochaic lines as follows : —

"Turning,

Burning,
Changing,
Ranging,
Full of grief and full of love.

A NAPES TIC METERS. 425

When we love, and when we languish !

Wishes rising !

Thoughts surprising !

Pleasure courting !

Charms transporting !

Fancy viewing

Joys ensuing !
Oh the pleasing, pleasing anguish."

The Spondee is used almost exclusively to give variety
to other measures. Its effect is to retard the movement.
A good spondaic line should consist of monosyllables, as
in Pope's illustration : —

" And ten | low words | oft creep | in one | dull line."

Anapestic Meters. — The anapest is a graceful, buoyant
foot, fitted to gay and lively subjects rather than to those
that are sad. It becomes monotonous in a long poem ;
but its general effect may be preserved, and at the same
time dignity secured, by an intermixture of iambuses.
Illustrations of anapestic measures follow. The student
may scan the several selections, naming the meter, and
noting whether the lines are pure or mixed : —

There was a naughty Boy,

And a naughty Boy was he ;
He ran away to Scotland
The people for to see —

There he found

That the ground

Was as hard,

That a yard

Was as long,

That a song

Was as merry,

That a cherry

Was as red —

426 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

That a door
Was as wooden
As in England —
So he stood in his shoes
And he wonder'd,
He wonder'd,
He stood in his shoes
And he wonder'd.

KEATS.

•

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we —
Of many far wiser than we —
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.

POE.
.

'Tis the last rose of summer,

Left blooming alone ;
All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone.

MOORE.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed.

BYRON.

Dactylic Meters are used to a limited extent in Eng-
lish. Hood's " The Bridge of Sighs " is written in dac-
tylic dimeter, a peculiarly fitting measure for the subject.
Thus:-

— W W — vj w

" One more un | fortunate,

Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,

Gone to her death !
Take her up tenderly,

Lift her with care ;
Fashioned so slenderly,

Young, and so fair."

THE CMSURA. 427

Dactylic measures are seldom pure and acatalectic.
A trochee often forms the concluding foot of a line, es-
pecially in the dactylic hexameter, written in imitation of
the heroic verse of the Greek and Roman poets. Latin
and Greek hexameters closed with a spondee. Longfellow
in " Evangeline " imitates the classical measure : —

" Thus on a Sabbath morn, through the streets deserted and silent,
Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse.
Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the garden ;
And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among them." 1

The Caesura. — If the lines just quoted from "Evan-
geline " be examined, it will be seen that in each there is
a natural break or pause in the rhythm, with which there
corresponds a break also in the sense. In these lines, the
break is marked ( || ) : —

" Thus on a Sabbath morn || through the streets deserted and silent,
Wending her quiet way || she entered the door of the almshouse.
Sweet on the summer air || was the odor of flowers in the garden;
And she paused on her way || to gather the fairest among them."

The break occurs at the end of a word, sometimes
within a foot. It is called Caesura (cutting), and is distin-
guished as masculine, when it immediately follows a met-
rically accented word ; as feminine, after a metrically
unaccented word.

1 It is proper to state here, that a certain school of critics regards the
iambus and the anapest as the only rhythm-yielding feet in English ; and by
assuming the MONE (one strong syllable, usually a monosyllabic word)-, to
give variety to iambic rhythm, this school scans with ease almost every English
combination. The mone occurs in the lines : —

« Gold | gold | gold | gold

_ V_> — >-> — \J —

Bright | and yel | low, hard | and cold."

428 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

The caesural pause should not occur in the same place
in succeeding lines of the same meter. Its position is
fixed by no law, but is determined by the ear of the com-
poser. Variety requires that it should be irregularly dis-
tributed in consecutive lines, as by Milton in the following
passage from " Paradise Lost : " —

" When straight behold the throne
Of Chaos || and his dark pavilion spread
Wide o'er the wasteful deep || with him enthroned
Sat sable-vested Night || eldest of things,
The consort of his reign || and by them stood
Orcus and Ades || and the dreaded name
Of Demo-gorgon || Rumor next, and Chance
And Tumult and Confusion || all embroiled,
And Discord || with a thousand various mouths. ' '

Pope sometimes becomes monotonous by failing to vary
its position. For example,—

" True ease in writing || comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest || that have learned to dance.
'Tis not enough || no harshness gives offense ;
The sound must seem || an echo of the sense.

Its time agrees with that of the system in which it occurs. In the lines
just quoted from Hood, gold is equivalent to and cold. By making the fust
long syllable a mone, a trochaic may be converted into an iambic line, a dac-
tylic into an anapestic line. Thus

is usually scanned as two lines in trochaic tetrameter.

— vjv_i — ^ o — <_i y —

" Take | her up ten | derly, lift | her with care,"

is usually scanned as two lines in dactylic dimeter. The mass of writers on
English versification recognize the feet and meters as given in this lesson.

RHYME AND BLANK VERSE. 429

Soft is the strain || when Zephyr gently blows,
And the smooth stream || in smoother numbers flows ;
But when loud surges || lash the sounding shore,
The hoarse, rough verse || should like a torrent roar."

Much of the music of verse depends on caesuric effects. In the
English heroic line, the usual position of the caesural pause is after
the fourth or the sixth syllable ; although it may occur after the first,
second, third, fifth, or seventh, according to the effect desired. After
the fourth, it is thought to be adapted to " what is didactic or serious ;
after the fifth, to description and the expression of sentiment." The
general effect of advancing the caesura is to render the line grave and
solemn. In short measures, the position of this pause will be found
near the middle of the line.

In addition to the caesural pause, what is known as the Final Pause,
a slight suspension of the voice, marks, in reading, the ends of lines,
especially if they be rhymed.

Rhyme and Blank Verse. — Rhyme is the orderly
recurrence, in meter, of similar sounds. It is distin-
guished as Assonantal (the .correspondence in the rhyming
syllables of the vowels only) and Consonantal (the corre-
spondence not only of the vowels, but also of the final
consonants, in the rhyming syllables).

The lines —

" If she seem not so to mt,
What care I how good she be ; " —

exhibit assonantal rhyme. Consonantal rhyme, the ordi-
nary rhyme of English poetry, appears in —

" Tears on his hollow cheek
Told what no tongue could speak."

A perfect rhyme implies agreement in the sound of
the vowels of the rhyming syllables, as well as in that of
the consonants, if any, that follow them, — always without

430 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

Regard to spelling, — but a difference in the consonant
sounds that precede. Crutch rhymes with touch; burn,
with discern. A syllable cannot rhyme with itself, nor
can an unaccented rhyme with an accented syllable. The
following rhymes are therefore imperfect : —

" We go from Ilium's ruined walls z.way,
Wherever favoring fortune points the way."

" Encouraged thus, wit's Titans braved the skies
And the press groaned with licensed blaspheww. "

Rhymes in which the vowel sounds closely resemble each
other, though not perfect, are admissible. Thus : —

" Good nature and good sense must ever join;
To err is human ; to forgive, divine."

Rhymes are further distinguished as Single, Double, or
Triple, according to the number of syllables that rhyme
together. Passion and fashion are double rhymes ; jeop-
arded and shepherded are triple rhymes.

Blank Verse is unrhymed verse. In its perfect form
it is a continuous meter of iambic pentameter lines, as
in the extract from " Paradise Lost," p. 320. The Earl
of Surrey borrowed blank verse from the Italians for
his translation of the second and fourth books of the
"y£neid " (i 557) ; the authors of " Gorboduc," the earliest
English tragedy, first employed it for dramatic composition
(1561); but Christopher Marlowe, in his " Tamburlaine "
(1587), demonstrated its real capabilities, and adaptedness
to dramatic poetry. The languid, rhymeless decasyllabics
of his predecessors, with a strongly accented syllable at
the end of each verse, entirely lacked the freedom, variety

STANZAS. 431

and power, of Marlowe's "mighty line," which led up to
Shakespeare's majesty and music.1

Blank verse is the most elevated of all measures, and as such it
is the appropriate vehicle for our epic and dramatic poetry. In the
regular line, the accents are five in number ; but these may be dimin-
ished to quicken the movement. Hence, in dramatic poetry, we should
expect to find lines of five accents the exception ; and such is the case
in Shakespeare. Thus the first line below, from " Paradise Lost," has
the five regular accents ; the second, four ; the third, from Shake-
speare's " Julius Caesar," only three : —

" In adamantine chains and penal fire."
"Against the throne and monarchy of God."
"These couchings and these lowly courtesies."

In order to secure the desired rhythmic effects, the trochee, the
spondee, two short syllables, and even occasionally the anapest, may
by poetic license be substituted for the iambus ; and a syllable without
accent may be added to the line. A correct ear and a delicate taste
are essential to success in blank verse.

Stanzas. — Verse may be continuous, like much of that
written by Shakespeare, Milton, and Tennyson ; or it may
consist of a series of metrical divisions known as Stanzas.
A stanza (literally a step} is a part of a poem consisting
of a group of lines arranged according to some definite
principle of length, of metrical character, and of rhyme.
Stanzas of the same poem are in these respects supposed
to be uniform.

1 Prose, rhyme, and blank verse, were all employed by clearly drama-
tists. Occasionally, one or the other characterized an entireyptay ; nqt infre-
quently two were mixed ; and there are instances of the pre^Sjlce of all three
in the same drama. A prejudice at first existed against 'W^hymed lines.
Contemporary critics ridiculed the " bragging blank verse" dO^arlowe, and
the poet who " swaggered in drumming decasyllabons."

432 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

Two lines rhyming together constitute a Couplet, or
Distich (dis'tik} ; three lines rhyming together, a Triplet.
A couplet is not regarded as a stanza. A stanza of four
lines, rhyming alternately or otherwise, is known as a
Quatrain. A Canto consists of a number of stanzas.

Stanzas are of almost countless variety, the principles
of their formation being regulated by the taste of their
inventors. Only certain prominent forms can be here
described.

The Elegiac Stanza, as illustrated in Gray's " Elegy
Written in a Country Churchyard," is a quatrain composed
of iambic pentameter lines rhyming alternately. Thus, —

" Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,

Heaven did a recompense as largely send :
He gave to misery (all he had) a tear,

He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend."

The Tennysonian Stanza, as that of " In Memoriam "
is designated, consists of a quatrain composed of iambic
tetrameter lines in which the first rhymes with the fourth,
and the second with the third: —

" I turn to go: my feet are set

To leave the pleasant fields and farms ;
They mix in one another's arms
To one pure image of regret."

Four-line stanzas, including dactylic and anapestic quatrains, are
common among the poets. The student may select specimens for
criticism.

Five- and six-line Stanzas also occur in great variety.
The former may be illustrated by the following stanza
from Shelley's ode " To a Skylark," a trochaic quatrain
followed by an Alexandrine, "the length and weight of

STANZAS. 433

which serves to balance and tone down the joyousness
of the trochaics : " —

" Like a poet hidden

In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,

Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not."

The Chaucerian Stanza, or Rhyme Royal. — Of espe-
cial note are the stanzas formed from the Ottava Rima, or
heroic meter of the Italian poets, by Chaucer and Spenser.
The Chaucerian stanza was called the Rhyme Royal, be-
cause adopted by King James I. of Scotland. Similar
letters standing for rhymes, the following formula will
represent Boccaccio's " octave rhyme," from which it
was formed : abababcc. Chaucer omitted Boccaccio's fifth
line, thus producing a more musical combination, — abab
bcc, — three heroics each side of a middle line on which
the music of the stanza turns. The rhyme royal con-
tinued a favorite with English poets until the Elizabethan
period. The following illustration is from Shakespeare's
" Lucrece :"

" Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring,

Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers,
The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing,
What virtue breeds, iniquity devours ;
We have no good that we can say is ours,

But ill annexed opportunity

Or kills his life, or else his quality."

The Spenserian Stanza was invented by the author of
" The Faerie Oueene," who sought to give variety, dignity,
and music, to the ottava rima of Ariosto by the addition
of an Alexandrine line. How far it is an improvement on

QUACK. RHET. — 28

434 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

the original may be judged by comparing the following
from Byron's " Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," with the
ottava rima quoted below from " Don Juan : "

"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."

The Spenserian stanza, characterized by Craik as " the last new
form that has fairly established itself in the language," was adopted by
Beattie in " The Minstrel," by Thomson in " The Castle of Indo-
lence," by Burns in " The Cotter's Saturday Night," by Scott in '' The
Vision of Don Roderick," and by Shelley in " Laon and Cythna."

The Ottava Rima is illustrated from Byron's "Don
Juan." By omitting line five, it will be seen that a Chau-
cerian stanza remains. By changing the rule of rhyme in
the last four lines, and adding an Alexandrine, a Spense-
rian stanza will result : —

" 'Tis sweet to hear the watchdog's honest bark

Bay deep-mouth 'd welcome as we draw near home;

'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark
Our coming, and look brighter when we come ;

'Tis sweet to be awaken'd by the lark,

Or lull'd by falling waters ; sweet the hum

Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds,

The lisp of children, and their earliest words."

QUESTIONS.

Define versification; rhythm; meter; feet. How many syllables
are essential to a foot ? On what do the effects of verse depend for the

CRITICISM.

435

pleasure they convey ? Name the principal feet occurring in English
verse. Of what does the iambus consist? the trochee? the spondee?
the dactyl? the anapest? On what does length or quantity depend
in English verse? How are accented syllables denoted? unaccented
syllables ? How is a line of one foot designated? of two feet, etc.?
What is the meaning of catalectic? acatalectic? hypercatalectic ? Ex-
plain scanning. State the difference between pure and mixed verse.

Of the iambic meters, to what are the monometer and dimeter
adapted? Describe the combinations known as long meter, common
meter, short meter. What is the measure of " Marmion'1 ? What is
the heroic line of English poetry? To what is it adapted? Name
poets who have employed it. Describe the Alexandrine line, and
state its effect. Mention the characteristics and adaptations of tro-
chaic meters. What use has the spondee? To what are anapestic
meters fitted ? Show the advantage of introducing the iambus into
anapestic verse. Are dactylic meters common in English ? Describe
the dactylic hexameter. Who have employed it? What two are
regarded by certain critics as the only rhythm-yielding feet? Define a
mone. How is the time of a mone determined? Show how, by the
use of the mone, a trochaic may be converted into an iambic line.

Explain the caesural pause. What does variety require as regards
its distribution in consecutive lines? State the effect of the caesura in
different positions in an heroic line. What is the final pause ? Define
rhyme, and show the difference between assonantal and consonantal
rhyme. Name the conditions of a perfect rhyme. What rhymes are
admissible? What is blank verse? Give an outline of its history in
English literature. By what was the blank verse of Marlowe char-
acterized? Sum up the general advantages of blank verse.

Define a stanza ; a couplet ; a triplet ; a quatrain ; a canto. State
the composition of the elegiac stanza ; of the Tennysonian stanza.
Describe the Chaucerian stanza, and show how it was formed ; the
Spenserian stanza. What poets have employed the Spenserian stanza ?

EXERCISE.

Scan the lines in the following extracts, fully describing the meter
"in each case, and stating whether the verse is pure or mixed. Such
work will be facilitated by reading the lines aloud, and marking the
accented syllables, thus determining the rhythm. The feet in each
line may then be counted, and the meter thus ascertained.

436 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

Tanagra ! think not I forget

Thy beautifully storied streets ;
Be sure my memory bathes yet

In clear Thermodon, and yet greets
The blythe and liberal shepherd boy,
Whose sunny bosom swells with joy
When we accept his matted rushes
Upheaved with sylvan fruit ; away he bounds, and blushes.

LANDOR.

Blissful, they turned them to go : but the fair-tressed Pallas Athene

Rose, like a pillar of tall white cloud, toward silver Olympus ;

Far above ocean and shore, and the peaks of the isles and the mainland ;

Where no frost nor storm is, in clear blue windless abysses,

High in the home of the summer, the seats of the happy Immortals.

KINGSLEY.

Softly, softly, blow, ye breezes,

Gently o'er my Edwy fly !
Lo ! he slumbers, slumbers sweetly ;
Softly, zephyrs, pass him by !
My love is asleep,
He lies by the deep,
All along where the salt waves sigh.

HENRY KIRKE WHITE.

My foes with wondering eyes shall see I overprize my death.

But since ye all (for all, I hope, alike affected be,

Your wives, your children, lives and land, from servitude to free)

Are armed both in show and zeal, then gloriously contend

To win and wear the home-brought spoils of victory the end

WARNER'S Albion's England.

And yet these days of subtler air and finer

Delight,
When lovelier looks the darkness, and diviner

The light —
The gift they give of all these golden hours,

Whose urn
Pours forth reverberate rays or shadowing showers,

In turn —

CRITICISM. 437

Clouds, beams, and winds that make the live day's track

Seem living —
What were they did no spirit give them back

Thanksgiving?

SWINBURNE'S The Interpreters.

In each of the following extracts the words are misplaced, so that
there is neither rhyme nor rhythm. Arrange the first collection (from
Gay's "Black-eyed Susan") into a six-line stanza, the first four lines
of which shall be iambic tetrameters rhyming alternately, and the last
two shall constitute an iambic pentameter couplet : —

" The fleet was all moored in the Downs, the streamers in the wind
waving, when aboard came Black-eyed Susan. ' Oh ! where shall I find my
true love? Tell me, tell me true, ye jovial sailors, if among the crew sails
my sweet William.' "

Arrange the following words, which constitute Langtree's poem,
"The Albatross," into sixteen anapestic tetrameter acatalectic lines
rhyming consecutively : —

"Where in magnificence the fathomless waves toss, the wild albatross
soars, high and homeless ; unshrinking, alone, undaunted, unwearied, the
tempest his throne, his empire the ocean. When o'er the surge the wild
terrible whirlwind raves, and the hurricane hurls the mariner's dirge out, the
dark-heaving sea thou in thy glory spurnest, proud, free, and homeless, bird
of the ocean world. When the winds are at rest and in his glow the sun, and
below the glittering tide in beauty sleeps, above, triumphant, in the pride of
thy power, thou with thy mate thy revels of love art holding. Unconfined,
unfettered, untired, unwatched, in the world of the mind, like thee be my
spirit ; no leaning for earth, its flight e'er to weary, and in regions of light
fresh as thy pinions."

Restore the original order of the subjoined words, which make five
dactylic hexameter lines of Longfellow's " Evangeline:" —

^ The forest primeval still stands; but( another race dwellsj under the
shade of its branches, with other language and customs. Only a few Acadian
peasants, whose fathers wandered back from exile to their native land to die
in its bosom, linger along the shore of the misty and mournful Atlantic."

Arrange the following words into a trochaic couplet : —

43 3 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

"Leave me here, comrades, a little, while 'tis as yet early morn ; leave
me here, and sound upon the bugle horn when you want me."

Restore the following words to their order, so that they shall form
an eight-line stanza of rhyming dactylic dimeter lines : —

" This noble fray, which fame did not delay to carry to England, was
fought upon St. Crispin's Day. Oh, when with such acts shall Englishmen
fill a pen, or England breed such a King Harry again? "

The first of the following extracts is from Milton's " L' Allegro"
(the mirthful man) ; the second from " II Penseroso" (the melancholy
man). Scan the lines in each, and criticise the adaptation of the meter
to the theme.

" Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,
Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it as you go,
On the light fantastic toe;
And in thy right hand lead with thee
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ;
And, if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free."

" But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloister's pale,
And love the high-embowed roof,
With antic pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light :
There let the pealing organ blow,
To the full-voic'd quire below,
In service high and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,

CRITICISM. 439

Dissolve me into ecstasies,
And bring all heav'n before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,
The hairy gown and mossy cell,
Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every star that heav'n doth show,
And every herb that sips the dew ;
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
These pleasures, Melancholy, give,
And I with thee will choose to live."

Determine the position of the caesural pause in each of the follow,
ing lines : —

Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,
Nor the deep tract of hell; say first, what cause
Moved our grand parents, in that happy state
Favour'd of Heaven so highly, to fall off
From their Creator, and transgress his will
For one restraint, lords of the world besides ?
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt ?
The infernal Serpent ; he it was, whose guile,
Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived
The mother of mankind, what time his pride
Had cast him out from heaven, with all his host
Of rebel angels. — MILTON.

Criticise the rhymes in this extract from Butler's " Hudibras : " -

"There are no bargains driven,
Nor marriages, clapped up in heaven ;
And that's the reason, as some guess,
There is no heaven in marriages.
Two things that naturally press
Too narrowly to be at ease,
Their business there is only love,
Which marriage is not like to improve, —
Love that's too generous to abide
To be against its nature tied;

44O PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

For where 'tis of itself inclined
It breaks loose when it is confined,
And like the soul, its harborer,
Debarred the freedom of the air,
Disdains against its will to stay,
And struggles out, and flies away,
And therefore never can comply
To endure the matrimonial tie."

Criticise the following illustrations of blank verse, noting the
number and position of the accents in the lines, and the general
rhythmic effects : —

As the ample moon,

Rising behind a thick and lofty grove,

Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light,

In the green trees ; and, kindling on all sides

Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil

Into a substance glorious as her own,

Yea, with her own incorporated, by power

Capacious and serene : — like power abides

In man's celestial spirit; virtue thus

Sets forth and magnifies herself ; thus feeds

A calm, a beautiful, and silent fire,

From the incumbrances of mortal life,

From error, disappointment — nay, from guilt;

And sometimes, so relenting justice wills,

From palpable oppressions of despair.

WORDSWORTH'S The Excursion.

There often wanders one, whom better days
Saw better clad, in cloak of satin trimmed
With lace, and hat with splendid riband bound.
A serving maid was she, and fell in love
With one who left her, went to sea, and died.
Her fancy followed him through foaming waves
To distant shores, and she would sit and weep
At what a sailor suffers ; fancy too,
Delusive most where warmest wishes are,
Would oft anticipate his glad return,
And dream of transports she was not to know.
She heard the doleful tidings of his death,

CRITICISM. 441

And never smiled again. And now she roams

The dreary waste ; there spends the livelong day,

And there, unless when charity forbids,

The livelong nigflt. A tattered apron hides,

Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides, a gown

More tattered still; and both but ill conceal

A bosom heaved with never-ceasing sighs.

She begs an idle pin of all she meets,

And hoards them in her sleeve ; but needful food —

Though pressed with hunger oft, or comelier clothes,

Though pinched with cold — asks never. — Kate is crazed.

COWPER'S The Task.

Arrange the following words into an elegiac stanza : —

" Then upon our globe's last verge we shall go and view the ocean
leaning on the sky ; from thence we shall know our rolling neighbors, and
securely pry on the lunar world."

Arrange the following words into a Chaucerian stanza : —

As it is most pure, and hath the more of heavenly light in it, so every
spirit doth procure the fairer body to habit it, and so it is more fairly dight
with amiable sight and cheerful grace ; for the body doth take form of the
soul, for soul is form and doth make the body. — SPENSER.

Arrange the following words into a Spenserian stanza : —

The Warrior came haughty of heart and brow, proud as proud might be
in language and look, vaunting his fights, fame, lineage, and lordship ; yet
more proud than he was that barefoot Monk. And as climbs the ivy the
tallest tree, so he wound his toils round the loftiest soul, and subdued the
free and fierce with his spells, till, honoring his haircloth and scourge, Youth
renowned in arms, and ermined Age, kissed the ground meekly. — SCOTT.

Select illustrations of the mone, or monosyllabic foot, from Cole-
ridge's " Christabel ; " from Chaucer's poetry ; from Shakespeare.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Brewer's " Orthometry," Parsons's "English Versification," Tom
Hood's "The Rhymester," Davidson's "The Poetry of the Future,"
Rev. Samuel W. Barnum's " A Vocabulary of English Rhymes" (pub-
lished by the author at New Haven, Conn.), Professor T. R. Price's
" Construction and Types of Shakespeare's Verse," Guest's "A His-
tory of English Rhythms," Mayor's "Chapters on English Meters."

442 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

LESSON XXXVIII.

THE EPIC POEM.

Epic poetry imitates by narration ; the poet in his own person speaks as little as
possible. — ARISTOTLE.

The production of a standard epic poem has been generally considered as the
highest effort of human genius ; and so seldom has such an effort been made, that
the rarity of the occurrence alone would seem to justify the very high estimate which
has been formed of its value. — HENRY NEELE.

Poetry assumes Different Forms. " Poets must be
singers," wrote Theodore Watts; "and all singers seem
to be divided into three classes: first, the pure lyrists,
each of whom can, with his one voice, sing only one tune ;
secondly, the epic poets (save Homer), each of whom
can, with his one voice, sing several tunes ; and, thirdly,
the true dramatists, who, having many tongues, can sing
all tunes. These three kinds of poets represent three
different kinds of poetic activity : " hence, the natural
division of poetry into Epic, Lyric, and Dramatic. Each
of these forms has its distinctive features, and is con-
structed in accordance with definite principles of technic.

The Epic is the most objective form in which poetry
appears. An epic poem is a metrical narrative of out-
ward events — technically, of heroic achievements taking
place under supernatural direction — characterized by in-
tricacy of plot, the delineation of grand types of charac-
ter, descriptive effects, and the refinements of language.
It is universally regarded as the supreme creation of
man's poetic faculty ; ages being required for the pro-

THE EPIC POEM. 443

duction of a single epic genius, and few literatures boast-
ing of more than one great epic poem.

Theme of the Epic. — The word epic is from the Greek
epos, which means discourse, or tale. An epos in its widest
signification is a living tradition ; in its narrowed sense,
it is "the poetical voice of tradition." The epic poet
sings of heroes and battles remote from his day. His
theme, to be in keeping with his purpose, must be heroic
or sublime. With exact history he has nothing to do ; it
is the fables and legends of antiquity that he sifts for a
hero and an adventure.

The world of history is an actual world ; that of the
epos, an ideal world. Still, epics are to be regarded as
in a measure historically true, certainly so far as social
manners and institutions are concerned. Homer's "Iliad,"
for instance, relates facts that have received verification
at the hands of modern archaeological research. In like
manner the colossal epics of ancient India are believed
to shadow forth historic truth, — the "Ramayana" (raJi-
mak'yd-nd, "Adventures of Rama"), to be an account of
the conquest of Southern Hindostan and Ceylon by the
Aryans; and the " Mahabharata " (md-hah' bah' rd-td, "Great
War of Bharata "), to narrate the circumstances of a conflict
between two branches of an ancient royal family, and the
resulting hegemony of Delhi under the Pandava princes.

The Homeric and the Indian masterpieces — the Annals of the
Roman Ennius ; the Persian " Shahnamah " (shah-na-me,' " Book of
Kings "), having for its subject the deeds of Persian heroes and sover-
eigns from the earliest times to A.D. 636; the German " Nibelungen-
lied ""' (" Song of the Nibelungs "), which mingles the mythical with the
historical in its story of Siegfried and the hoard of the Nibelungs ; the
Spanish " Cid " 0/V/), a narrative of the exploits of Ruy Diaz de Bivar
in the Moorish wars ; and our own " Beowulf," the oldest epic in Eng-

444 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

lish, recounting the triumphs of the warrior whose name it bears over
supernatural foes — are true representatives of this poetical form.

The "yEneid" of Virgil, Milton's "Paradise Lost/1 Dante's
"Divine Comedy," Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," the " Lusiad" of
Camoens, and the " Henriade '' of Voltaire, — later compositions in
the respective literatures which they adorn, — are artificial literary epics
in imitation of remoter national poems.

In addition to these are epics compiled in modern times from
ancient national traditions. Such are the " Hiawatha,"' " The Poems
of Ossian," and the Finnish " Kalevala." The latter is the result of
an attempt by Dr. Lonnrot to reduce to unity the floating traditions
of the Finns relating to the children of the All Father and the Earth
Mother. Lonnrot spent years in Finland, wandering from cabin to
cabin, " sitting at the hearth of the peasant and the fisherman, inquir-
ing of the old man and the child, listening to their tales, and writing
down what he heard." In 1835 he published his collected legends in
the form of an epic entitled " Kalevala" (from Kava, " the Mighty
One ") , — a poem which Max Mliller regards as the fifth national epic
of the world. It is written in trochaic tetrameter, which suggested to
Longfellow the measure of " Hiawatha."

Homer's " Iliad " has for ages been regarded as the world's ideal
epic poem. It is marked by clearness, vigor, and simplicity of style ;
the simple sentence predominating over the complex, and the very
syntax being childlike in its plainness. Its meter is dactylic hexam-
eter. The types of human character it presents for our study are
among the most beautiful creations of the poetic mind.

The Aim of the Epic is not only to yield intellectual
delight by the narration of some great action, but at the
same time to impress a moral on the reader's mind. In
the case of the Greek epic, the impression was intensified
by the conviction that the doings of its heroes were con-
trolled by the will of the gods, and that, through the poet,
the Muse as a supernatural power uttered the story. The
lesson of the " Iliad " is, that strength results from unity,
and calamity waits on discord, — a lesson peculiarly adapted
to the Greeks, who were divided into small quarrelsome

THE EPIC POEM. 445

states. While the world was talking of the victory over
Troy, Homer borrowed an incident of the great war, and
made it the subject of his " Iliad," to convey the moral.

Technic ; Unity. — The great requisite of the epic
poem is unity. The subject must be one important event
to which all others are subordinated. The action must be
a perfect whole, with the distinctness and prominence of
which, episodes or secondary incidents are not to inter-
fere. The subject of the " Iliad " is the wrath of Achilles
against Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, and the events
that followed in consequence.

Episodes as necessary parts of the action are admitted
for the sake of variety and interest. Episodes that dis-
engage the attention from the main action, and rivet it on
their own special stories, however beautiful they may be in
themselves, are out of harmony. This fault is exhibited
in the episodes of the Hindoo poems, some of which are
miniature epics. The Nala episode of the " Mahabharata,"
now attainable in the translation by Professor Monier-
Williams, is recommended as an illustration unsurpassed
for pathos and tenderness of sentiment.

As the epic is a narrative, the duration of its action is
not limited, like that of the dramatic poem. We read it as
we read a history, and lay it aside at pleasure. The entire
action of the " Iliad " covers forty-seven days. Further,
the action of the epic must be probable, and must deal with
personages that are illustrious and with events that are
important. The style should be correspondingly elevated.

QUESTIONS.

Into what three classes are poets divided? Name the forms in
which poetry appears. Define an epic poem. How is it universally

446 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

regarded? What is required for its production? From what is the
word epic derived? Define the theme of the epic. In what relation
does an epic poem stand to history? State the theme of the " Iliad ; "
of the " Mahabharata ; " of the " Ramayana." Mention other epics
and their subjects. Describe the " Kalevala."

State the double aim of the epic. Mention the lesson of the
"Iliad.1' What does unity require in the action of the epic? State
the law of the episode ; the fault of the Hindoo episodes. How is the
duration of the action determined? To what extent does the epic
admit the improbable? Show how the touchstone (noble grounds for
noble emotions) applies to the epic.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Read Bryant's translation of Homer's " Iliad," and sum up the
peculiarities of the poem. Do you find natural terminations to the
story before the revenge of Achilles is completed? What time is cov-
ered by the narration? by the wrath of Achilles? Critics regard the
passage describing the parting scene between Hector and his wife
Andromache as the most beautiful in the poem ; state your opinion.

If possible, obtain a copy of the episode of Nala, and have it read
and criticised in the class.

If you are reading Virgil, criticise the plot of the " ^Cneid." Is it
consistent and probable ? Are the incidents well chosen witK refer-
ence to the mission of ^Cneas? Is the story of Dido germane to the
plot? Does the poet make it clear that the question at issue is not
merely the fate of Dido, but whether Carthage or Rome shall even-
tually rule in the Mediterranean basin? Does the episode of Dido
conform to the canon? What is the lesson of the " .<Eneid"?

Members of the class may be called upon to sum up in like man-
ner the peculiarities of any other epics mentioned in the lesson.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Dippold's "The Great Epics of Mediaeval Germany;" Porter's
translation of the "Kalevala;" Aristotle's "Poetics;" Gummere's
" Poetics ; " Herder on the Epic, " Blackwood's Magazine," xlii. 734;
Gladstone's "Studies on Homer and the Homeric Age," iii. 500;
Jebb's " Homer; " Dryden's " Discourse on Epick Poetry ; " Voltaire's
essay on " Epic Poetry ; " Bossu's " Treatise of the Epick Poem."

THE LYRIC POEM.

447

LESSON XXXIX.

THE LYRIC POEM.

In the epic, the poet effaces himself in his work ; but the lyric is subjective ; in
it the poet draws all things to himself, penetrates them with his feeling, and lets
them issue forth again thus subjectified. — HEGEL.

The novelist gives us a true picture of life ; but the poet, the truth of the soul.
— JOHN STUART MILL.

Give me the making of the national ballads, and I care not who makes
the laws. — QUOTED BY ANDREW FLETCHER in a Letter to the Marquis of
Montrose.

Lyric Poetry, as indicated by its name, was originally
sung to the accompaniment of the lyre or harp. As the
epic deals with external events, the lyric, which belongs
to a later period of culture, finds its theme among the
poet's own thoughts and emotions. The one is therefore
objective, the other subjective. Lyric poetry is the poetry
of self-expression ; love, hatred, anger, grief, hope, adora-
tion, war, revelry, are its legitimate subjects.

Unity as applied to the lyric requires that the poem be
limited to the expression of a single emotion. The meter
should be suggested by the subject, and thus harmony
secured.

Lyrics may be classified as Sacred and Secular.
Sacred lyrics include psalms and hymns, the Psalms of
David being regarded as the perfection of this kind of
poetry. Wesley's " Jesus, Lover of my Soul," is a simple
sacred lyric.

The Ode. — An ode is a lyric poem in which exalted
or enthusiastic feeling is expressed ; it has been described

448 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

as " the voice of poetry in a frenzy." Odes are either
sacred or secular, a hymn being an ode. They are char-
acterized by great variety in their metrical structure.
Those following a definite arrangement in stanzas are
called Regular ; those in which such an arrangement is
not followed, Irregular. The finest irregular ode in our
language is Wordsworth's " Intimations of Immortality,"
and second to it is Dryden's "Song for St. Cecilia's Day."
The fifth and sixth stanzas from the former are herewith
presented, showing the absence of structural law : —

" Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting :
The soul that rises with us, our life's star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar :

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God, who is our home :
Heaven lies about us in our infancy !
Shades of the prison-house begin to close

Upon the growing boy,
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows

He sees it in his joy ;
The youth, who daily farther from the east

Must travel, still is nature's priest,

And by the vision splendid

Is on his way attended ;
At length the man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day.

" Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own;
Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,
And, even with something of a mother's mind,

And no unworthy aim,

The homely nurse doth all she can
To make her foster-child, her inmate man,

Forget the glories he hath known,
And that imperial palace whence he came."

THE LYRIC POEM. 449

Regular odes are composed of successions of regular
stanzas. Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats, have left us
models of this variety. The first and fifth stanzas from
Keats's "Ode on a "Grecian Urn" are subjoined: — "

" Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,

Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express

A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme :
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape

Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?

What men or gods are these ? What maidens loth ?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?

What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

" O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede

Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed ;

Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity : Cold Pastoral !

When old age shall this generation waste,

Thou shall remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
' Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' — that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

The Elegy is a lyric characterized by the utterance of
melancholy feeling. It may be a true lyric of grief, or a
poem pervaded by a serious tone, like Gray's " Elegy in
a Country Churchyard." Shelley's " Adonais," on the
death of Keats, is by some regarded as the world's great-
est elegy. Milton's " Lycidas," commemorating the death
of his friend Edward King ; Tennyson's " In Memoriam ; "
and Matthew Arnold's " Thyrsis," in memory of the au-
thor's friend, Arthur Hugh Clough, — are noted elegiac
poems.

QUACK. RHET. — 29

450 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

Amatory Odes, or Love-Songs, are perfectly illustrated
in the erotic effusions of the Roman poets Catullus, Pro-
pertius, and Tibullus, and among the moderns in those
of Suckling, Burns, Moore, and Byron.

The Sonnet (in Italian, sonetto, "a little song") is a
lyric poem of fourteen iambic pentameter lines arranged
according to a prescribed order of rhyme, and restricted
to the expression of a single sentiment. The sonnet had
its origin in Italy, where it was carried to perfection by
Petrarch. The true or Petrarchan sonnet consists of an
octave composed of two quatrains and of a sestet com-
posed of two tercets. The subject is opened in the octave,
and the sentiment expressed in the sestet, which is divided
sharply from the octave in thought and music.

The Italian order of rhyme in the quatrains is as fol-
lows : lines I and 4, 5 and 8, rhyme together, as do lines
2 and 3, 6 and 7, according to the formula abba abba.
The tercets introduce two new rhymes ; the lines rhyming
alternately, according to the formula cd cd cd. But a
fifth rhyme was sometimes admitted by the Italian poets ;
thus, cde cde.

Mr. R. W. Gilder answers the question, What is a
sonnet ? in the following poem, the lines of which rhyme
according to the system last described : —

" What is a sonnet ? 'Tis a pearly shell a

That murmurs of the far-off murmuring sea, b

A precious jewel carved most curiously ; b

^ It is a little picture painted well. a

What is a sonnet? 'Tis the tear that fell a

From a great poet's hidden ecstasy ; b

A two-edged sword, a star, a song — ah me ! b

Sometimes a heavy-tolling funeral bell. a

THE LYRIC POEM. 451

This was the flame that shook with Dante's breath, c

The solemn organ whereon Milton played, d

H "I And the clear glass where Shakespeare's shadow falls : e

v, /• A sea this is — beware who ventureth ! c

\i J For like a fiord the narrow floor is laid d

Deep as mid-ocean to sheer mountain walls." e

In sonnet writing, great latitude is allowed in the arrangement of
the rhymes, the English sonneteers differing widely as to their number
and order. Sir Thomas Wyatt and the Earl of Surrey, who made
known this form of lyric to English readers in the reign of Henry
VIII., close with a couplet. The poet Daniel legalized the error; and
Shakespeare sought to secure in his sonnets " the sweetest of all pos-
sible arrangements in English versification" by three quatrains of
alternate rhymes, leading up to an expected couplet at the end.

The appended sonnet, xxxiii., may be studied as a specimen of
the Shakespearean structure : —

" Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy ;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace :
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all-triumphant splendor on my brow;
But, out, alack ! he was but one hour mine;
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.

Yet him for this my love no wit disdaineth;

Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth."

Milton's sonnets are peculiar in that the octave blends with the
sestet, "flows into the sestet without break of music or thought."
The intellectual subjects with which this poet deals are often incapable
of that partial separation into parts which the Petrarchan system con-
templated. Hence Milton's sonnets have been described as " English
in impetus, but Italian in structure." The Miltonic sonnet may be
illustrated by the following on the poet's blindness : —

452 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

" When I consider how my light is spent,

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide ;
' Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?'
I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, ' God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best : his state

Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.' "

The student is referred, for still other orders of rhyme, to the
sonnets of Wordsworth, Spenser, Keats, and Mrs. Browning.

A Rondeau is a poem of thirteen lines with two rhymes,
the opening words being repeated as a refrain after the
eighth line and at the end. The rondeau is described and
illustrated in the following translation by Mr. Dobson : —

" You bid me try, blue eyes, to write

A rondeau. What ! — forthwith ? — to-night ?
Reflect. Some skill I have, 'tis true;
But thirteen lines — and rhymed on two —
Refrain, as well. Ah, hapless plight !

" Still, there are five lines — ranged aright.
The Gallic bonds, I feared, would fright
My easy Muse. They did till you —
You bid me try !

" This makes them nine. The port's in sight;
'Tis all because your eyes are bright !
Now just a pair to end with ' oo ' —
When maids command, what can't we do?
Behold! the rondeau — tasteful, light —
You bid me try ! "

THE LYRIC POEM, 453

A Ballad is a short narrative poem adapted for sing-
ing, and having for its subject some interesting incident
or romantic adventure ; for example, the " Robin Hood
Ballads." It is partly epic, partly lyric, in nature.

A Ballade consists of three stanzas of seven, eight, or
ten lines, followed by a half stanza called an Envoy, the
last line of each stanza being a refrain common to all
the stanzas and to the envoy.

The Pastoral Poem, or True Idyl, originated in the rude
songs of Sicilian shepherds, which were refined and ele-
vated into a distinct poetic form by Theocritus in the third
century B.C. Whereas any poem whose subject is con-
nected with country life is classed as a pastoral, the
appropriate characters of a true poem of this type are
shepherds and shepherdesses. Such are the speakers in
the "Idyls" of Theocritus, the "Bucolics" (shepherd
poems) of Virgil, and Allan Ramsay's " The Gentle Shep-
herd," a perfect pastoral.

In the ^Cglogues (goatherd's songs) of Spenser's " Shepheard's
Calender," the characters are shepherds, and " Elisa faire" (Eliza-
beth) figures as their queen. They narrate pointed fables, discuss
important religious and political questions, chant the praises of Queen
Elizabeth, draw the character of a perfect poet, and complain of the
contempt of " pierlesse Po'esie " by the rich and great. The language
is intentionally archaic, and in places provincial.

The student is further referred to William Browne's "Britannia's
Pastorals;" Pope's " Pastorals ;" Shenstone's " A Pastoral Ballad;"
Gay's "The Shepherd's Week;" the poetry of Burns; and "the
smooth song which was made by Kit Marlowe," — sung at the request
of Piscator and his scholar by Maudlin, the milkmaid of "The Com-
pleat Angler," — "The Passionate Shepherd to his Love."

A Satirical Poem is an expression of contempt or aver-
sion for the follies, weaknesses, or sins, of men. It may
be exalted, good-natured, or bitter, in its attack; but in

454 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

any case it must be the instrument of morality. In the
hands of the Roman Juvenal, this kind of poetry was car-
ried to the heights of dignity and excellence.

Butler's " Hudibras," whose object was to satirize the
Puritans ; and Dryden's " Absalom and Achitophel," di-
rected against the Earl of Shaftesbury and his faction,
and characterized as " the first satire in the language for
masculine insight and vigor of expression," - — are illustra-
tions of the political form of this kind of poetry.

QUESTIONS.

Define lyric poetry. How does it differ from epic poetry? What
does unity require in a lyric poem? What should suggest the meter ?
How may lyrics be classified? What is an ode ? State the difference
between regular and irregular odes. Name the finest irregular English
ode ; the authors of the best regular odes. Define the elegy, and
mention typical illustrations of this form. What are amatory odes?

What is a sonnet ? Who introduced the sonnet into England ?
What is regarded as the error of the English sonneteers ? Describe
the Petrarchan structure ; the Shakespearean structure ; the Miltonic
structure. State the adaptations of each. Is a qnatorzain, or " a
fourteener," necessarily a sonnet? On what, in your opinion, depends
the ear pleasure derived from the sonnet as a metrical form? What
is the andante of a sonnet? (7/j- even, graceful movement. In music,
andante designates a movement quicker than largo, but slower than
allegretto.)

What is a rondeau? a ballad? a ballade? a pastoral or idyl?
What is the precise meaning of the word idyl? (A little picture of
rural life.) Characterize "The Shepheard's Calender" of Spenser.
Name other pastoral poems. Define the satire.

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Select melodious verse forms from the poetry of Swinburne and
Andrew Lang. For how much does form count in lyric poetry? What
would be the effect in a lyric poem of changing the meter from iambic
in one stanza to trochaic in another ? See Campbell's war lyric, " The
Battle of the Baltic." Compare with " Ye Mariners of England."

THE LYRIC POEM.

455

Contrast the following fourteen-line poems, criticising as to struc-
ture, etc. Which is a true sonnet ? Which is the more exquisite piece

of verse ?

Fourteen small broidered berries on the hem
Of Circe's mantle, each of magic gold;
Fourteen of lone Calypso's tears, that rolled
Into the sea for pearls to come to them ;
Fourteen clear signs of omen, in the gem
With which Medea human fate foretold;
Fourteen small drops, which Faustus, growing old,
Craved of the Fiend, to water Life's dry stem.
It is the pure white diamond Dante brought
To Beatrice ; the sapphire Laura wore
When Petrarch cut it sparkling out of thought;
The ruby Shakespeare hewed from his heart's core;
The dark deep emerald that Rosetti wrought
For his own soul to wear for evermore.

EUGENE LEE HAMILTON.

Cupid and my Campaspe played

At cards for kisses — Cupid paid.

He stakes his quiver, bows and arrows,

His mother's doves and team of sparrows —

Loses them too ; then down he throws

The coral of his lip, the rose

Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ;

With these, the crystal of his brow,

And then the dimple of his chin —

All these did my Campaspe win.

At last he set her both his eyes. —

She won, and Cupid blind did rise.

O Love, has she done this to thee ?

What shall, alas ! become of me ?

LYLY'S Alexander and Campaspe.

Read Shelley's " Adonais," and comment on the adaptedness of
the Spenserian stanza to the expression of such "beautiful regret."

Compare the Hebrew Psalms with the odes of Pindar ; with the
Vedic hymns (see Arrovvsmith's Translation of Kaegi's Rigveda).
Do the latter seem "nebular and unemotional" beside the Psalms?
Do the Jewish bards reach the climax of emotional song ?

456 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

As examples of the ode, read Milton's " On the Morning of
Christ's Nativity," Gray's " The Bard," Coleridge's " Ode to the
Departing Year" and "Ode to France," Collins's "Ode to Liberty"
and "The Passions," Bayard Taylor's "The National Ode." Do
the elaborate versification and the varying meters seem intended to
accommodate the transitions natural to intense feeling ? Why is not
" The Passions " a true ode ?

A Madrigal (literally, a pastoral ditty) is a short, fanciful, de-
scriptive poem, or a love song characterized by passionate utterances.
It has no distinguishing characteristics of structure. The following
song of Ben Jonson's, " To Celia," has been pronounced (by Bain)
unsurpassed as an amatory ode. Why ?

" Drink to me only with thine eyes,

And I will pledge with mine ;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise

Doth ask a drink divine :
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,

I would not change for thine.

" I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there

It could not withered be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,

And sent'st it back to me :
Since when, it grows, and smells, I swear,

Not of itself, but thee."

Compare with the madrigal, " Take, O ! take those Lips away," in
" Measure for Measure," act iv. sc. i.

What kind of a poem is "Enoch Arden" ? Its hero has been
called as great as King Arthur. Justify this criticism in a brief essay.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Tom Hood's " The Rhymester ; " Hall Caine's " Sonnets of Three
Centuries;" Leigh Hunt's "Book of the Sonnet;" Allingham's
"Book of Old Ballads;" Dobson's "Proverbs in Porcelain" and
" Vignettes in Rhyme ; " Andrew Lang's " Ballades in Blue China."

THE DRAMATIC POEM. 457

LESSON XL.

THE DRAMATIC POEM.

The drama is to epic poetry what sculpture is to historical painting. — NEELE.

Dramatic emotions are those strong feelings of the soul that harden into desire
and action. The true aim of dramatic art is not the mere representation of passion
in itself, but of passion that leads to an act. An emotion is dramatic only when it
leads to some decisive action. An action is dramatic only when it comes as the
inevitable consequence of some overwhelming emotion. — FREYTAG.

Drama (from the Greek verb drao, " I do") implies
action. In a dramatic composition, the events are not
related by the author, but are represented as actually
taking place by means of dialogue between the various
characters, who speak the poet's language as if it were
their own. In this dialogue, the whole action of the piece
is contained. A drama is so constructed as to admit of
being acted on the stage.

A Dramatic Poem is either Tragic or Comic, accord-
ing to the effects produced on the reader or spectator.
Tragedy has been described as "poetry in its deepest
earnest." It includes those compositions which represent
some great or sublime action, attended with a fatal catas-
trophe, and calculated to awaken emotions of pity or
terror. Aristotle taught that by the dramatic represen-
tation of such passions the spectator was purged from
these passions. His idea of catharsis or purification was
expressed by another Greek writer as follows : —

" For whensoe'er a man observes his fellow

Bear wrongs more grievous than himself has known,
More easily he bears his own misfortunes,"

458 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

"A virtuous man," wrote Addison, "struggling with misfortunes, is a
spectacle that gods might look upon with pleasure ; and such a pleasure it is
that one meets with in the representation of a well-written tragedy. Diver-
sions of this kind wear out of our thoughts everything that is mean and little.
They cherish and cultivate that humanity which is the ornament of our na-
ture. They soften insolence, soothe affliction, and subdue the mind to the
dispensations of Providence."

When the actions and dialogue are addressed to the
sense of the ludicrous, its subject being found among the
follies or lesser vices of society, the drama is called a
Comedy. The plot of a comedy has a happy termination.

A fragi-comedy is a play in which serious and comic
scenes are blended, the denouement being happy.

Laws of the Dramatic Poem ; the Idea. — It is in the
dramatic idea that the germ of the action of a play really
lies, not in the subject, which has been described as so
much "dead material." The transformation of this mate-
rial is effected by the poet's imagination in such a man-
ner, that " the principal event, being separated from all
accidental accompaniments, is brought into a unified con-
nection of cause and effect." The new unity resulting is
called the Idea of the drama, and it determines the one-
ness of the action, the significance of the characters, and
in fact the whole structure of the play. The idea of the
" Othello " is jealousy, excited by an outside person, and
leading to the tragic termination.

The material that is transformed into the dramatic idea may be
the invention of the poet, the subject of some novel or other piece of
literature, or of historical origin. In dealing with historical person-
ages and events, the poet is licensed to make modifications for dra-
matic effect, provided the divergence from truth be not too pronounced.
When a story falls into the hands ot a dramatist, it is subject to no such
restrictions regarding this license to alter facts as are binding on the
epic poet. Sometimes, however, in the case of an historical drama,

THE DRAMA TIC POEM.

459

the playwriter adheres strictly to authority, as did Ben Jonson in
his "Catiline" and " Sejanus," and Shakespeare in his character of
Richard III. In other dramas, the latter poet departs boldly from
historic truth, shaping his material according to his idea.

The Dramatic Action must possess Unity. The ac-
tion of a drama consists of an articulated series of events
arranged in harmony with the idea. It implies a number
of dramatic situations, on which the interest of the play
depends. This action must have unity, which requires
that but one leading train of incidents be kept in view,
and forbids the introduction of all underplots, subsidiary
actions, or episodes, except such as are closely connected
with the principal action, and are calculated to develop it.
The requirement of unity is what distinguishes the dra-
matic action from the subject which suggested the idea,
and this it is that the genius of the dramatist supplies.

" Within the limits of a dramatic action," writes Professor Ward,
"all the parts claim to be connected as contributions to a single
stream ; and upon the degree in which they are true to this purpose
their primary dramatic significance depends. The unity of action
which a drama should possess means that everything in it should
form a link in a single chain of cause and effect." Each successive
act should appear as the result of some preceding one. Thus the
separate parts of an action are joined in one artistically framed whole.

If adroitly managed, episodes may be made an addi-
tion or an ornament to the drama, as are Hamlet's .con-
versation with the players, and the gravediggers' scene in
the same tragedy. In "Henry IV." Falstaff divides the
interest with the principal characters ; but Shakespeare's
clowns have generally a close connection with the main
action, being often introduced to soften the prevailing
tragic tone of the piece.

460 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

The Action must further be Complete in itself, Prob-
able, and Important. If conceived of as complete, it will
have its cause, growth, climax, consequences, and close.
The dramatist is to regard the action not only as one, but
to treat it as a whole, displaying every incident that is
necessary to satisfy expectation.

Aristotle divided a play into five parts: I. The Protasis (intro-
duction); II. The Epitasis (the stretching to the catastrophe); III.
The Climax; IV. The Catabasis (the descent} ; V. The Catastrophe.
This implies plot development by progressive steps, and no license
can justify any material deviation from this principle. "The poet
must combine such a train of attractive particulars as in their com-
mencement awaken our feelings ; in their continuance, uphold, quicken,
and suspend them ; and in their catastrophe, lay them finally at
rest." Corresponding with the five parts of the action are the five
acts into which the dramatic poem is usually divided ; though these
five may be reduced to three, containing the beginning of the action,
the climax, and the catastrophe.

Probability implies "the consistency of the course of
the action with the conditions under which the dramatist
has chosen to carry it on, — the consistency of the action
with the characters, and of the characters with them-
selves." At the present day, the supernatural, which was
realistic to Shakespeare's audience, is virtually excluded.
Moreover, here, as in other forms of poetry, there must
be noble grounds for noble emotions. Tragedy must base
its action on motives other than low or common. The
moral coward, the man who robs or murders through cov-
etousness, is useless as the hero of a serious drama.

The Unities of Time and Place. — By Aristotle's law,
the unity of time restricted the action of a drama to "a
single revolution of the sun." The unity of place required
that the scene should not be transferred beyond the lo-

THE DRAMATIC POEM. 461

cality of the supposed action ; or, if so transferred, that
the localities should not be so distant as to render it im-
possible for the incidents to conform to the unity of time.

The unities of time and place were necessitated in the.
case of the Greek drama by the existence of the chorus,
which remained constantly on the stage, its songs having
a connection with the events represented. Change of
place, lapse of time, would therefore have been improba-
ble, if not impossible. Whereas some modern dramatists,
especially the French poets, have insisted on these unities,
— Corneille's rule of time being thirty hours, and Boileau
maintaining that " the place of action must be fixed," -
the unities of time and place are no longer looked upon
as necessary. At times they would be inconsistent with
impassioned effect, as so eloquently declared by Mrs.
Browning in " Aurora Leigh : " —

" Five acts to make a play !
And why not fifteen ? Why not ten, or seven ?
What matter for the number of the leaves,
Supposing the tree lives and grows ? Exact
The literal unities of time and place
When 'tis the essence of passion to ignore
Both time and place ? Absurd ! Keep up the fire,
And leave the generous flames to shape themselves."

QUESTIONS.

What does the word drama imply ? Describe a dramatic com-
position. State the difference between tragedy and comedy. Explain
fully the idea of catharsis. What is a tragi-comedy ? Show how
material is transformed by the poet to obtain a dramatic idea. Whence
comes the material to be transformed ? In the case of an historical
drama, how closely is the poet expected to adhere to facts ?

What is the action of a drama ? Explain unity of action; com-
pleteness of action ; probability of action ; greatness or importance of

462 PRINCIPLES OF VERSIFICATION.

action. Into how many and what parts did Aristotle divide a play ?
Is thfre any correspondence between the number of these parts and the
number of acts? By Aristotle's law, to what did the unity of time
restrict the action of a drama? What did the unity of place require ?
Why were these unities necessary in the case of the Greek drama?

SUGGESTED EXERCISES.

Read the "Prometheus Chained" of yEschylus (John Stuart
Blackie's translation). Here the strongest feelings are excited, and
the reader anxiously awaits the arrival of the catastrophe which he
hopes will end the hero's suffering. Is this expectation gratified ?
What feeling is awakened at the close of the play? Criticise the
action. Notice particularly the part played by the chorus, and explain
why this appendage could not be conceived of as transferred from
locality to locality. Is the tragedy " the sublimest ever penned " ?

Test — for verification or contradiction of Aristotle's inductions
concerning the unities of action, time, and place — any comedy of
Aristophanes or Terence, — the " Clouds," the " Birds," "The Self-
Tormentor ;" vany modern comedy, — Ben Jonson's "The Alche-
mist;" Massinger's "A New Way to Pay Old Debts;" Middleton's
" A Trick to Catch the Old One ; " "A Midsummer Night's Dream."

Apply the laws of the dramatic poem to Swinburne's tragedy of
" Locrine ; " to " Romeo and Juliet ; " to the " Medea" of Euripides ;
to " Sakoontala, or the Lost Ring," " pearl of Eastern dramatic
poetry" (Monier-Williams's metrical translation).

Discuss, from the view point of tragic satisfaction, "King (Edi-
pus" of Sophocles ; " King Lear ; " Beaumont and Fletcher's " Philas-
ter ; " Ford's " The Broken Heart ; " Middleton's " The Changeling ; "
Webster's " The Duchess of Malfy ; " Tennyson's " Harold."

Comment on the change of scene in " As You Like It."

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Freytag's " Die Technik des Dramas ; " Aristotle's " Poetics ; "
Dryden's "Essay of Dramatick Poesy;" Lessing's " Hamburgische
Dramaturgic;" Stiester's " Ueber die Katharsis in der Poetik des
Aristoteles ; " Schlegel's " Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature ; '"
Moulton's " Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist ; " Simpson-Baikie's
"The Dramatic Unities ; " " The Dramatic Canons," " Galaxy," xxiii.
396, 508; for our older plays, " The Mermaid Series-"

APPENDIX.

BESIDES the marks already described in this volume, there
are others occasionally used for different purposes, as follows : —

I. Accents, or marks placed over vowels to indicate their
pronunciation. They are three in number : —

1. The Acute Accent (') is placed over the vowel e, in some words from the

French language, to indicate that it is not silent, but has the sound of a
in cane ; as, ConJe, bal pare. Placed after a syllable, it shows that the
accent, or stress of the voice, falls thereon ; as, el'ement, pkilos'opher.

2. The Grave Accent (v) is sometimes placed over the vowel e in poetry, to

denote that it must not be suppressed in pronunciation ; as, —

" The bruised seaweed wastes away ;
Its atoms on the breezes ride."

3. The Circumflex Accent (A) really denotes a higher or acute tone followed
by a lower or grave tone in the pronunciation of the same syllable in
Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin. In Greek and Latin, it is limited to long
vowels ; as, vice versd. English lexicographers arbitrarily place the
circumflex over certain vowels to indicate previously explained sounds,
as in the Key to Pronunciation in "Webster's International Diction-
ary," cdre, 6rb, Am.

II. Emphasis Marks, used generally at the beginning
of paragraphs, to attract the special attention of the reader.
They are found in newspapers, cards, handbills, etc., but rarely
in books. They are : —

1. The Index or Hand (S3~).

2. The Asterism (»*. , «»*).

4.6?

464

APPENDIX.

III. Division Marks, which denote the commencement
of a new branch of the subject. The marks generally used
for this purpose are : —

1. The Paragraph (H), rarely found in modern books, but common in the

Bible and other old publications. The beginning of a new subject is
now indicated simply by a break; that is, by commencing on a new
line, a little to the right. The word paragraph is derived from the
Greek, and literally means a marginal note, something written near or
alongside.

2. The Section (§), the mark for which seems to be a combination of two

s's, standing for sigmim sectionis, the " sign of the section." This mark
is sometimes placed before subdivisions of books, in connection with
numbers, to facilitate reference.

IV. Reference Marks, used to connect a word or words
in the text with remarks in the margin or at the bottom of the
page on which they occur. Their names are given below,
in the order in which, by the common consent of printers, they
are introduced : —

1 . The Asterisk *

2. The Obelisk or Dagger . . t

3. The Double Dagger . . . J

4. The Section §

5. The Parallels ||

6. The Paragraph H

When more than six reference marks are required, some printers double
and treble those just enumerated. The better way, however, is to use small
figures or letters, technically called superiors, because printed in the raised,
or " superior," form ; as, 1, 2, 8, a, b, c (Roman or Italic).

V. Marks of Ellipsis, (

are used to show that letters are omitted from a word, words
from a sentence, sentences from a paragraph, or entire para-
graphs and chapters from a work ; as, —

1. " The k — g (k . . g, or k * * g) promenades the city at night in disguise."

2. " If an artist love his art for its own sake, he will delight in excellence

wherever he meets it, as well in the creations of another as in his own.

APPENDIX.

465

. . . Nor is this genuine love compatible with a craving for distinc-
tion."

In Example i, k—g, k. .g, or k**g, is used for king. It will be
observed, that, when periods or stars are thus introduced into words, there
must be one for each letter omitted. When they are used, as in Example 2,
to denote the omission of one or more sentences, a number may be em-
ployed. Three beside the regular mark of punctuation is the most approved
usage.

VI. The Brace ({) is used to connect several terms
or expressions with one to which all have a common rela-
tion; as, —

Bagatelle ^ ( trifle.

Cortege >• may be translated -^ escort.
Ennui ) ( weariness.

The brace is also sometimes employed to connect a triplet, or three
lines of poetry rhyming together, when introduced into a poem most of
whose lines rhyme in pairs or couplets ; as, —

" So slowly, by degrees, unwilling fame
Did matchless Eleonora's fate proclaim,
Till public as the loss the news became."

VII. The Diaeresis (••), placed over the second of two
contiguous vowels, shows that they do not form a diphthong,
but must be pronounced separately; as, zoology, aeronaut,
phaeton. The word is Greek, and signifies a division.

VIII. The Cedilla (a diminutive of the Spanish ceda or
zeda, from zeta, the Greek name of the letter £, corresponding
to our 0) is a mark placed under the letter c (9) standing
before a, o, or //, to show that, contrary to analogy, it has the
sound of s, and not of /•. This mark seldom occurs except
in certain French and Portuguese words not yet naturalized
in English ; as, lefon, gar f on.

IX. The Spanish Tilde (teel'da, "a tittle or iota ") is placed
over the letter « (n) to indicate that it is sounded like n followed

*V\CK. RHKT. — 30

466 APPENDIX.

by y ; as, canon (kan-yun'), senorita (sen-nyor-e'tah). Over / (/),
it indicates /y, the sound of the Spanish //, as in llano (lyah'no).

X. The Double Comma ( „ ) is used to denote that a
word is to be supplied from a line above in the space imme-
diately beneath it. Names of persons, however, are generally
repeated; as, —

Harvey Johnson, Jr., Steubenville, Ohio.
Jacob J. Johnson, Jr., ,, ,,

Sometimes inverted commas (") are preferred for this purpose.

XI. Leaders ( ) are dots placed at short intervals,

to carry the eye from words at the commencement of a line to
matter at its end with which they are connected. It is chiefly
in tables of contents and indexes of books that leaders are
required. Thus : —

PAGE

Media of Communication 13

Spoken Language 17

Written Language 20

XII. The Ca'ret ( /\), used only in manuscript, shows where
interlined words are to be introduced ; as, " No man is ex-

the

empted from A ills of life." The name of this mark is a Latin
word, meaning it is -wanting.

XIII. There are also certain characters which may with
propriety be here enumerated.

In Prices Current, Bookkeeping, etc., we meet with ^ (per), a (each),
and @ (at, to). In almanacs, treatises on astronomy, and the like, the fol-
lowing marks constantly occur : —

£ Mercury.

? Ceres.

• New Moon.

$ Venus.

$ Pallas.

I> First Quarter.

® Earth.

^ Jupiter.

O Full Moon.

$ Mars.

^l Saturn.

d Last Quarter.

jjj[ Vesta.

9 , & Uranus.

£ Conjunction.

Juno. 0, O Sun. g Opposition.

APPENDIX. 467

TECHNICAL TERMS PERTAINING TO BOOKS.

Names of Books. — A book is said to be in folio, or (as
abbreviated) fol., when the sheets of which it- is composed are
folded once, each making two leaves or four pages. The size
of a folio volume, and indeed of all the others enumerated
below, depends on that of the sheet ; but, with the same sheet,
a book of folio form is twice as large as one in quarto, and
four times the size of an octavo, as will be presently seen.
Formerly, almost all books were printed in folio ; but now,
owing to the weight of such volumes, and the difficulty of
handling them, no book is published in folio, unless a large
page is required for exhibiting illustrations, or for some similar
purpose.

A quarto or 4to volume is one whose sheets are folded
into four leaves or eight pages. An octavo or 8vo consists of
sheets divided into eight leaves or sixteen pages each ; and so
a duodecimo or i2mo, a i6mo, i8mo, 241110, 321110, 481110, and
641110, denote volumes composed respectively of sheets folded
into twelve, sixteen, eighteen, twenty-four, thirty-two, forty-eight,
and sixty-four leaves.

Kinds of Types. — There are different sizes of type, of
which the following are most used : —

POINT OLD

SYSTEM. STANDARD.

14 English, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

12 Pica, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

11 Small Pica, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

10 Long Primer, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

9 Bourgeois, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

8 Brevier, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

1 Minion, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

6 Nonpareil, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

5% Agate, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

5 Pearl, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyj.

4% Diamond, »tx»lefgb!jUmnop(jt»mr«ji.

468 APPENDIX.

Putting matter in type is technically called composing or setting up. The
amount of matter composed is estimated in ems, or squares of the type used.
The em is thus the unit of measurement, and is employed in determining the
amount of type in a column, page, or book, which is said to contain so many
thousand ems.

By leads are meant thin plates of type metal with which the lines are
sometimes separated. When these plates are employed, the matter is said to
be leaded ; when not, solid,

Italics, so called from their having been first used by
Italian printers, are letters inclined to the right, like those in
which this clause is printed ; and are indicated in manuscript by
a line drawn under the words to be italicized. They are used
for emphatic, important, and contrasted terms ; for words and
sentences introduced to illustrate rules ; sometimes for names
of newspapers, magazines, vessels, etc. ; and for words and
quotations from foreign languages, that are not naturalized.

As no more definite rule for their use can be given, the composer must
exercise his judgment in deciding when they may with propriety be employed.
It is necessary only to caution him against using them too freely. Like every-
thing else, when made familiar, they lose their effect, and, besides offending
the eye, tend rather to perplex the reader than to aid him in determining what
is really emphatic.

Running Titles, or Headlines, consist of a word or
words placed at the top of a page to show the subject of which
it treats. They are usually printed in capitals or small capitals.
Such headings, when placed over chapters and paragraphs, are
known as CAPTIONS and SUBHEADS ; and as SIDE HEADS when
commencing the first line of the paragraph to which they refer.

The first page of a book contains the title, and is therefore
styled the TITLE-PAGE. A plate facing it is known as the
FRON'TISPIECE. A small ornamental engraving sometimes found
on the title-page, and often at the commencement of chapters,
is called a VIGNETTE. This term means a little vine ; and the
engraving in question was so designated from the fact that
originally a vine, or a wreath of vine leaves, was the favorite
form of such ornaments.

EXPLANATION OF MARKS ON PROOF SHEET. 469

EXPLANATION OF MARKS ON SPECIMEN PROOF SHEET.

If it is desired to change any letters to capitals, small capitals, or Italics, the desired
change is indicated by putting under the letters to be changed three lines for capitals, two
for small capitals, or one for Italics, and writing in the margin opposite Caps., Sm. Caps.
or Ital.

Capitals or small capitals are ordered changed to common letters by drawing a line
under them, and writing in the margin /. c., an abbreviation of "lowercase," the printer's
name for the box in which the ordinary letters are kept.

To change from Italic to Roman, or from Roman to Italic, draw a. line under the words
to be changed, and write in the margin, either Ital. or Rom., as the case may be.

To correct a wrong letter, word, or mark of punctuation, draw a line through it, and
write opposite, in the margin, what is to be substituted. In the case of a single letter, the
erasure is made by a vertical line ; but in the case of two or more letters, or complete words,
a horizontal line is drawn.

Any omission (word, letter, or punctuation point) is written in the margin. A caret
shows where to introduce what is thus marked in. When there is so much omitted that
there is not room for it in the margin, it is written at the top or bottom of the page, and a
line is used to show where it is to be introduced ; or the error may be indicated by writing in
the margin, Out : see copy.

A period, when marked in, should be inclosed in a circle. Apostrophes, quotation
points, reference marks, superiors, and inferiors, should likewise be partly inclosed in a
character like a V.

The hyphen, when marked in, should appear in the form of two short horizontal lines,
and should be followed by a line nearly vertical. A dash should be placed between two such
verticals.

Attention is drawn to an inverted letter by underscoring it, and writing opposite to it
the character used in second line of proof sheet.

When it is necessary to expunge a letter or word, draw a line through it, and place in
the margin a character resembling a a of current hand, which stands for the Latin word dele
(erase).

When a letter or word should be transposed, a line is drawn around it, and carried to
the place where it should stand, and the letters tr. are placed opposite. Or the transposition
may be indicated by figures showing the desired order.

A character of an improper size or shape is noted by drawing a short line under it, and
writing in the margin -w.f., signifying wrong font. If letters that should join stand apart,
draw a curved line beneath and another above the space that separates them, and repeat both
curves in the margin. If space is wanting between two words, insert a caret where the space
should be, and in the margin opposite make a character like a music sharp. A small line
should be drawn under letters that are imperfect or dirty, and a cross like an X should be put
in the margin.

When black marks appear between words (showing that the " spaces," or blank pieces
of type are too high), attention is drawn to them by a mark like a double dagger in the margin.

To order the crooked letter of a word straightened, two parallel horizontal lines should
be put in the margin, and such letters as are out of place should be underscored; or, if this
irregularity extends through several lines, draw inclined lines in the text, as in latter part of
proof sheet. When the ends of lines are uneven, a vertical line should be drawn beside them,
and the word line be placed in the margin.

The omission of a lead is indicated by writing Lead opposite the place of omission, and
drawing a short horizontal line where it is to be inserted. The remo_val of a lead is indicated
by the dele sign, with the word Lead in the margin and a short horizontal line in the text to
indicate the place.

A new paragraph is indicated by a paragraph mark in text and margin, or the words
New par. in margin. When it is desired to combine two or more paragraphs into one, write
in the margin No break, or Run on, and draw a connecting Jine between the paragraphs.

To move a word farther to the right or left, brackets should be put in the text and mar-
gin. The right- or left-hand bracket is used, according to the direction in which the word is
to be moved.

If it is desired to retain a word which has been marked out, dots are placed beneath it,
and the word stet (let it stand) is written in the margin.

A suggestion is made by writing in the margin Qy. (an abbreviation for Query) with the
suggestion.

A line nearly vertical is put after all points in the margin, to separate the differeni
marks, and to call attention to those which are liable to be overlooked.

4/0 APPENDIX.

SPECIMEN PROOF SHEET

ILLUSTRATING MARKS USED IN CORRECTION OF ERRORS.

WILLIAM FALCONER.

William Falconer was the son of a V barber in

a I Edinburgh, knd was bo'rn in 1730. He had vary few

.«// avantages of education,- and ^went to sea^in early life) •&.

•i.e. in the Merchant service. He afterward*became mate X

wft& I of a vessel that wrecked in the Levant and was saved , /

.A v A .&

with, only two of his crew \ ihis catastrophe formed Q @?

f — 5^ ^==

^fa.1/ the subject of his poem entitled "The Shipwreck," on
\f * which his reputation as a writer' chiefly rests. Early

*/ in_ 1769, his " Marine. "Dictionary " appear"ed, which (Q/l-om. "
* — . hasbeen highly spoken of by those' capable of esti - /
$**** <»-»*. mating its merits. » /^) cyp

tf«***.g / ^ In this seam year, he embarked on the A urora but r

the vessel was never heard of after she passed the^~---^'
[ (Qr I Cape: |_the -poet L_of \he- Shipwreck^ is therefore sup. y ~*
posed to have perished by the same disaster^ he had

himself- so graphically describVL IT The subject of •/

' ' ' ' /" • ' >

:k," and its authors fate, demand our V

I -J * ~ ,

interest. If we pay respect to the / — /

how .much, more interest 'must ^

on the high and giddy fl/
mast," cherishing . the- hour wmchr^he may casually
snatch from danger and fatigue\ ^^-\.^ ' /

CORRECTED PROOF SHEET.

SPECIMEN PROOF SHEET

AS CORRECTED.

WILLIAM -FALCONER.

WILLIAM FALCONER was the son of a barber in
Edinburgh, and was born in 1730. He had very few
advantages of education, and in early life went to sea
in the merchant service. He afterward became mate
of a vessel that was wrecked in the Levant, and was
saved with only two of his crew. This catastrophe
formed the subject of his poem entitled "The Ship-
wreck," on which his reputation as a writer chiefly
rests. Early in 1769, his "Marine Dictionary" ap-
peared, which has been highly spoken of by those
capable of estimating its merits. In this same year,
he embarked on the "Aurora;" but the vessel was never
heard of after she passed the Cape: the poet of "The
Shipwreck" is therefore supposed to have perished by
the same disaster he had himself so graphically de-
scribed.

The subject of "The Shipwreck," and its author's
fate, demand our interest and sympathy. — If we pay
respect to the ingenious scholar who can produce
agreeable verses in leisure and retirement, how much
more interest must we take in the "ship boy on the
high and giddy mast," cherishing refined visions of
fancy at the hour which he may casually snatch from
danger and fatigue !

INDEX.

Accents 463

Adaptation, in the subject . . 81

of rhetoric 39

the law of beauty .... 37

Esthetic culture 17

Esthetic sense factors .... 49

^Esthetics 16, 20

Affectation 158

Allegory 282

Alliteration 302-304

Ambiguity 215

Americanisms .... 179-181

Amplification 77, 92

Anacoluthon 223

Analogy 120

Analysis 88

Anaphora 270

Anecdotes 380, 402

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle . . . 107

Anticlimax 298

Antistrophe 270

Antithesis 295-297

Aphseresis 263

Apocope 263

Apologies, literary 127

Apostrophe 289

Appendix 463

Archaism 262

Argumentation .... 116-129

Arguments 124

Association 5°

Autobiography 375

Ballad 452

Ballade 452

Barbarisms 142, 228

Beauty 36-60

audible 47

due to association . . . 50, 51

expression of 44

in character and mind . . . 57

principles of 58

visible 45

Biography 37I~376

Blank verse 429

Burden of proof 127

Cadence 221

Caesura 426

Capital letters 209

Caret 466

Catachresis 314

Cedilla 465

Circumlocution 166

Clearness 170, 213

Climax, as a figure 297

in argumentation . . 124, 126

in narration 108

Cobbett, English Grammar of . 334

Colloquialisms 157

Color 45

Comedy 457

Composition, divisions of . 82-90

process of 61-78

subject in 80, 81

473

474

INDEX.

PAGE

Conclusion 88-90

of a sermon 401

Confucius, history of .... 107
Conversation, invention by . . 66
Criticism 13, 14

Deduction 121

Definition 130-133

amplification of a . . 132, 133
essentials of a good . . . .131

Description 92-104

comparison in 94

essentials of 93

of material objects . . . 97, 98
of natural scenery . . . 98, 99

of persons 100

personal knowledge necessary

to 96

power of words in .... 92
sequence an essential of . 96, 97

subjective 101, 102

vividness in 93

Diaeresis 465

Diaries 379

Diction 136

Dignity a principle of beauty . 39

Discussion 88

Disorder 56

Dramatic poem .... 456-461

Economy 40

Editorial 347

Elegy 448

Ellipsis, as a figure .... 267

improper 172

Enallage 270

Energy I75-J77» 217

Epanorthosis 298

Epenthesis 263

Epic, the 441-445

Epigram 297

Epistrophe 270

Epithets 165

Epizeuxis 270

Essay 346-359

Exclamation 292

Exordium 82

Expletives 164

Exposition . . . . . 130-134

Fable 282

Fiction 384

Figurative speech . . .257, 258

Figures 257-320

appropriate 308

bombastic 312

classification of ... 261, 276

degrading 312

far-fetched 310

laws of 307-315

mixed 313

modern 260

obscure 311

of contiguity 286

of contrast 295

of resemblance 276

overstrained 309

trite 311

unmeaning 310

Foreign words 149

Form 46

Framework of an essay . . 72-76

essentials of 73

illustration of .... 75, 76

importance of 74

laws of 75

Good writing, how far learnable, 12
Harmony 37~39

INDEX.

475

Historical methods

PACK

... 365

History 360-370

style of 368

Humor

390

Hypallage 273

Hyperbaton 272

Hyperbole 290-292

Hysteron proteron 273

Idealism 390

Idyl 452

Imagination 27-33

compared with fancy . . 29, 305

culture of 32, 33

scientific use of 31

Imaginative ideals 30

Incongruity 42

Induction 118, 119

Interrogation 299

Introduction 82-87

of a sermon 398

omission of 86

when written 83

Intuition 117

Invention 61-68

by observation 67

by reading 64

by reflection 63

illustrated . .* 68

literary 6l

Irony 299

Italics 467

Journals 379

Judgment 116

Letter as a prose form . 321-345

Letters, business 337

news 335

of condolence 34°

PAGB

Letters, of congratulation . .341

of friendship 338

of introduction 340

official 338

Lyric, the 446-455

Malaprops jr2

Meiosis 290

Melody 178, 221

Memoirs 376

Metaphor 279-281

mixed 313

Metathesis 264

Meter 417-426

Metonymy 286-289

Mimesis . . 261

Misusages, table of . . 228-248

Narration 105-115

canons of 106

climax in 108

illustrated . . 108-110, 112-114
law of selection in .... 106
law of succession in ... 107
law of synchronism in . . . in
relation of, to description . . 106
special forms of . . . . . 114

unity in 1 12

Neologisms 145

New words 145-147

Notes of ceremony and compli-
ment 339

Novel, the 384-394

history of 388

laws of construction of . . . 392
material of 389

Obituary 376

Obscurity 171, 214

Observation, invention by . . 67
Obsolete words .... 142, 143

476

INDEX.

Ode 446-448

Onomatopoeia .... 300-302
Order, the principle of ... 39

Ottava rima 433

Oxymoron 297

Parable 282

Paragoge 263

Paragraph, laws of the . 249-253

Parentheses 206, 214

Pastoral poem 452

Pathos 58, 390

Pedantry 150

Peroration 88

Personification 281

Perspicuity 170-213

offenses against . . . . . 171

Picturesqueness 56, 57

Plagiarism 65

Pleonasm . 269

Poetry 409-416

touchstones of 414

Polysyndeton 165

Post cards 329

Proportion, an element of beauty 37

essential to an essay 73

Proposition 87

Prosthesis 263

Provincialisms 150

Punctuation 193-211

Purism 150

Purity 142, 212

Reading, as an art . . . . 64, 65

Realism 390

Reasoning 116-121

a posteriori 119

a priori 121

Reductio ad absurdum . . .124
Redundancy 164

PAGE

Refutation 121

Review 35°~353

Rhetoric, definition of ... 9

relative value of 17

sciences subsidiary to . . . 19

Rhetorical art 1 1

Rhetorical grace 222

Rhetorical laws 9» 59

Rhetorical sentences .... 184
Rhetorical study .... 14-16

Rhyme 428

Rhythm 48, 221

Rondeau 451

Roots 258-260

Rules 12

Satirical poem 452

Sentences, ambiguous. . . .215

balanced 187

clear 213

energetic 217

long 1 88

loose 185, 186

perfect 220

periodic 185

pure 212

short 190

Sermon 396-408

Simile 276-279

Slang 159-161

Solecisms 213, 228

Sonnet 449-451

Speculation 134

Stanzas 430-433

Style 135

of the sermon 401

Subject, of a sermon .... 397

of a theme 80-82

Sublimity 54

Syllogism 117

INDEX.

477

Syncope 263

Synecdoche 286

Synonyms 161-164

Taste 20-28

and imagination 28

correctness and delicacy of . 22

differences in 23

elements of 21

perversion of 24

standard of 24

universality of 23

Tautology 164

Tautophony 179

Technical terms 171

Testimony 118

Theme, natural divisions of . . 80

Tilde, the Spanish 465

Tmesis 264

Tract 353

Travels 380

Treatise 354

Types ......... 467

Unities of time and place . . 459

Unity, in variety 41

of the dramatic poem . . . 458
of the paragraph .... 249

of the sentence 223

of the subject 82

Usage, divided 139

Usage, national 1^8

polite 137

present 138

reputable 137

Variety 42

Vastness 55

Versification 417-440

Vision 289

Voyages 381

Vulgarisms 157, 158

Words 142

clear 170

concrete 177

energetic 175

equivocal 173

foreign 149

hybrid 147

. improper 157

in obsolete significations . . 143

local 150

melodious 178

new 145-147

obscure 171

obsolescent 143

obsolete 142, 143

precise 161

redundant 164

Saxon 151

tautological 164

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